Harry Potter and the Friend with Benefits

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/38291089.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con,
Underage
Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Non-Human Character(s), Padma
Patil/Harry Potter, Parvati Patil/Harry Potter, Katie Bell/Harry Potter,
Lavender Brown/Harry Potter, Susan Bones/Harry Potter, Hannah
Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott/Harry Potter, Luna
Lovegood/Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Pansy
Parkinson/Harry Potter, Tracey Davis/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Original
Character(s), Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Ron/Multi
Characters: Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley,
Original Potter Family Characters (Harry Potter), Pansy Parkinson, Ron
Weasley, Tracey Davis (Harry Potter), Daphne Greengrass, Fleur
Delacour, Lavender Brown, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Susan Bones,
Hannah Abbott, Voldemort (Harry Potter)
Additional Tags: Genderbending, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfluid Character, Gender or
Sex Swap, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Extremely Dubious
Consent, Rape/Non-con Elements, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline,
Consensual Underage Sex, Underage Sex, Age Difference, Succubi &
Incubi, Harems, Polyamory, Polyamorous Character, Character Death,
Open Relationships, Evil Plans, Futanari, SCENES OF Dark!Harry -
Rare but VERY DARK.
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-04-10 Updated: 2024-02-11 Words: 782,157 Chapters:
95/?
 Harry Potter and the Friend with Benefits
by InfiniteDragon

Summary

Harry Potter has a significant problem: he is lonely in every sense of the word, desperate for
any aid to relieve him of a number of problems. He stumbles across a ritual, in the forbidden
section of the library, that allow him to 'get what he needs'. His life and many others will
never be the same. Explicit Deviancy! Read at your own risk! Many multi pairings. These
include human-nonhuman, genderfluid, and so on. This is a repost from my own account on
FFnet, and is not stolen. Send me a PM there if you don't believe me, the author name is the
same.

Notes

I don't own the original work (the Harry Potter series), never have, and probably never will. I
do own my original characters written for this book (including Lilith), the plot as it deviates
from the original series, and so on. Don't republish without permission. That's just rude.
If you are interested in reading more of this particular fanfiction, you can find a more
complete version on FFnet. I will be posting here every two weeks (about twice as often)
until I am caught up on both sites, then it will go to monthly.
If I haven't posted and you think it's time, then pm me. I forget stuff too.
Regarding warnings: this fic should have a lot. More than I can hold. It has explicit deviancy
of many and varied sorts. Futa, noncon, genderbending, genderfluid, gender-swap,
shapeshifting, mind control, underaged sex, age differences, and all in a backdrop of
extremely open polyamory with a wide group of people. It should not, absolutely should
NOT be read by minors or those impressionable, or who would be offended by such things.
 The Newcomer

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Harry Potter and the Friend with Benefits.

Chapter 1: The Newcomer

Harry James Potter, fifteen, flipped through the pages of one of many books he should not be
reading from distractedly, only raising his eyes from the moonlit parchment every few
minutes or so when some quiet noise of the castle settling or cooling in the night made him
worry someone was coming.

Not that they could catch him, he knew, aside from, perhaps, Professor Dumbledore himself.

Only, Dumbledore was no longer in the Castle and therefore not a worry… though Harry did
worry about the aged Headmaster for entirely different reasons these days.

He was growing beyond frustrated.

With the Ministry, of course, and Dolores Umbridge in particular.

The DA, Dumbledore’s Army, (or, as Harry called it in his head, the Defense Association)
was coming along nicely, and the school year was proceeding apace, much as the Ministry
might wish it.

In just over two months, he and his closest friends would be sitting their O.W.L.s. The
completion of which, given at least three “Acceptable” grades or better, would mean that,
even if he failed to graduate from Hogwarts, he could consider himself a Hedge Wizard. In
other words, he could keep his wand, pass or fail.

Therefore, the DA was not truly a source of worry. In point of fact, Harry felt their more-
than-weekly meetings to be a great relief, since he could both help his friends survive (he
hoped) and stick it to the highly corrupt Ministry of Magic he was already coming to loath
despite being just fifteen, two full years short of adulthood.

Though, Harry thought idly, the DA causes problems of its own.

Not the clandestine nature of their meetings. The Marauder’s Map handled that well enough.

No… it was those attending the meetings.

A specific half, anyway.

Harry Potter was quite awake at three in the morning in the Hogwarts Library in hopes of
distracting himself from, yes, girls. Witches, in particular.

A few notable names, mostly in the DA, along with their faces and figures flashed unbidden
across his mind’s eye.

Hermione. Ginny. A couple of the redhead’s year-mates. Lavender. Parvati (and, of course,
her sister Padma in Ravenclaw). There were others. Many members of each house, even the
Slytherins that, by and large, despised Harry (and he felt the feeling was quite mutual) were
something to look at and admire for their physical beauty alone if nothing else, in his opinion.

Yet, Harry could not just ‘date’ or ‘romance’ or ‘woo’ or… well, anything. Sure, he fancied
more than a few. Cho Chang, for example, had been his first real crush, though any strong
thoughts for her had been crushed by their first, disastrous date to Hogsmeade.

Another page turned, Harry barely registering that the topic and chapter had changed.

Yes, girls were, indeed, the primary source of his frustration.

Because how could he trust any of them, aside from a few specific examples (Hermione
alone, really, and she was off-limits for other reasons, his other best friend, Ron, chief among
them), wanting to be with him, not his fame, or his wealth, or… whatever?

On the Summoning of Demons, Harry read, then whispered aloud, beginning to turn the page
again, “I wouldn’t mind shagging a few of the Slytherins, yeah, but I’d worry about being
knifed in the back!”

His normal speaking volume, in the hush of the late-night library, made Harry freeze for
several seconds with the page mostly turned.

Then he glanced back down at the book.

Summoning of…

Unbidden, words spoken by the person he now knew was called Bartemius Crouch, Junior
flitted through his mind. ‘You’re allowed a wand. A simple spell… to get what you need.’

“To get what I need,” Harry whispered.

He glanced down again, snorted, then let the page fall.

Another turned, his mind almost blank.

Then a third.

The fourth and fifth made him pause.

For there, sideways, almost like a pin-up he’d once spotted on Dudley’s floor, was a very,
very detailed drawing.

A female form with dragon-like wings, flaming hair, voluptuous, curvy… nude.

Succubae and Incubae, the drawing was titled.

Harry blinked.

He turned back a few pages to the start of the chapter. Then back to the pin-up.

The chapter’s headline.

The pin-up.

He snorted, snapping the book closed, then put it back on the shelf. “Yeah, right… Guess I’ll
just go have another useless wank.”

An hour later, despite doing just that, he went to bed (thankfully, it was Saturday morning)
just as horny as when he’d stolen to the library.

(O)(O)(O)

On Saturday evening, Harry had the book, which had simply refused to leave his thoughts,
open on his lap while he finished the final step of a circle, the binding and summoning spell
described just after the pinup for the summoning of such a creature.

A creature described, in the book, as a gender-morphic humanoid demon, capable of breeding

with nearly any creature, powerful, cunning, wise… and always beautiful and willing.

If he wanted a female form, it would have one. If he had wanted a male form (Harry knew he
did not, thank you very much), it would, even with the same creature.

In other words, nearly the perfect relief for his perpetually aroused state.

The circle surrounded him, his clothes discarded to the side.

Not for the ritual, though it had been recommended, but simply for, he hoped, ease of access.

The knife in his left hand slid across the palm of his right.

He hissed, though not loudly - Harry James Potter was no stranger to pain.

At once, deep crimson welled up even as he tossed the knife out of the small circle, just eight
feet across, to land in the corner of the dark stone cellar room beneath Hogwarts with a loud
clink.

This time, he did not worry for the noise, having silenced the room and given it every
protection he could. Ron had even given him an alibi, with the promise that, when the
rendezvous was finished, he would attempt to set one up with his friend, too.

As the blood finished covering his palm, he brought it down and cupped his groin, then began
to chant even as the magic of the ritual stirred him to vigorous life.

Harry was just about to groan in frustration a few minutes later, because all that seemed to
have happened was that his erection was, if anything, more painful than ever before and
perhaps spurred on by the magic of the ritual, as the room started filling with dense, pink
smoke.

Eventually, the almost cloyingly-sweet, yet still brimstone-y smell made Harry cough.

A moment later, he jumped in response to a single word.

"Master?"

He froze, with his right, bloody hand still cupping his swollen scrotum, while the left hand
tightened its grip on... no, wait, he'd thrown the knife aside, put his wand in his clothes, also
set aside... he was defenseless. Naked, literally, in a room with some unknown female.

Suddenly, Harry felt very grateful for the obscuring smoke.

"Er... Who's there?" he eventually called.

Another brief pause, then the same, soft, almost lyrical voice replied, "It's me, Master. The
one you summoned? Let me clear out the smoke... Most of these rituals are done out-of-
doors, you know."

"Er..." was all Harry could think of to say, heedless of how inane it sounded - especially
repeated - as the heavy color seemed to withdraw, condense and shrink, eventually revealing
at first a small shadow of a form just a few feet in front of him, on the opposite side of the
ritual circle.

It continued to pull inward, almost swirling down into a central point, condensing further and
further, until the last few wisps were pulled into what seemed to be the hair of a petite,
humanoid girl - though clearly not human - about two feet shorter than he was.

Harry was not, for what it was worth, a tall example of an English teenaged boy, at a mere
five-one.

She - for the being was clearly a she - had pointed, almost elven (though thankfully not
house-elven), ears, bright pink hair the exact hue of the smoke it had just, apparently,
absorbed, and a rounded, almost angelic human-like face with bright, almost cerulean-blue
eyes. A slender, graceful neck fell into narrow shoulders, from which sprouted two arms, and,
apparently, two small, black, bat-like wings which jutted out and upward about a foot in each
direction.

Her chest, bare as the rest of the figure was, was at least partially developed, though he
doubted if, were she human, more than the smallest of training bras would ever be necessary.
Not that, of course, he was an expert on the matter.

The small breasts were capped by puffy, extended areolae and nipples, and there was just
enough definition going down from there for Harry to make out the curvature of the
abdomen, a hint of waist and pelvic bone, before a bare, slitted mound separated two thicker
thighs, giving the short creature a slightly wider hip than shoulder, which was again a little
wider than the waist, before moving down to proportionally well-made but still short legs to
end in two miniature, perfect feet.

Feet which, Harry noticed, were capped with pointed, likely razor-sharp nails the same hue as
her hair.

"Er... you're... small?"

The being nodded, dazzling Harry momentarily with the sheer excitement she presented with
the gesture and the brilliance of her white teeth - two of which were, he also noted with some
trepidation, almost vampire-like in their length.

"That's right, Master! Like all Succubae, I take the form of my summoner's deepest desires!"

"I... I'm not into little kids," Harry protested, suddenly annoyed, frowning as he did so.

"Your big cock says different, Master," the creature chided, glancing downward - just below
her throat level - momentarily, "And besides - I'm not a child, I'm just young! Petite, you
might say."

"B- But you're so short! I'm short, and you're- you-"

"Mm, not short where it matters, Master," the child-like being smirked, stepping forward a
few times until she was just a few inches from him.

Instinctively, he stepped back, only to bounce off the invisible, yet perfectly there barrier
formed by the inside of the summoning circle.

Shit. Neither of us can leave until the ritual is over. Crap, crap, crap... What did I get myself
into?
"Don't feel too bad," the being shrugged, "I don't really have anything to compare it to. I'm
fully trained, and an adult by our standards, but you're my first summoning, so I've never had
a human to compare you to. And besides..."

The sultry look - altogether alien to what Harry felt should have been a child's form - she shot
upward made Harry's penis jerk in his hand, such that, only then, did he think to try and hide
it from her.

"... You should know, Master, I'm a Succubus. A demon of sorts, at least to you mortals.
There's nothing - nothing - you mortals could think of, sex-wise, that would shock me. So
you like petite girls. I might be a year younger than you, appearance-wise. I can only assume
your tastes will change as you age, like most people's do. And so, should our contract extend
to that point, I will, too. But to me, this isn't a big deal. Not at all."

Harry frowned. "C- Contract? The book didn't say-"

He trailed off. She, in turn, cast her almost glowing-blue eyes around the chamber, which was
still only lit by four candles and the remaining glow of the circle itself (a white, at least,
which kept colors almost normal, Harry knew), to see the small pile of his belongings. With a
brief squint, she eyed the book, then rolled her eyes. "Profligatory Vitalis by Luther
Profligulls. I should have known, it's a book with all the warnings and cautions after the good
stuff. We actually use that same book in our lessons on Contracts. Don't feel too bad... I'm
fair, I promise!"

"Er..."

She smiled again, "Anyway, so here's the short version. I can only stay in this world, outside
of this circle, for a short time. About an hour, tops. With a Contract, as long as you keep your
end of the deal, I can keep mine - which means I can stay. The payments - what you give me -
can be almost anything, but I know exactly what I want. It's a pretty standard thing, too, most
Succubi these days choose it."

"Let me guess," Harry frowned again, finally having found his words, "My soul? My life?"

She almost snorted, covered her tiny mouth with a small hand, giggled once, then shook her
head, making her wings jostle. "No, silly, it's semen. That whole soul-sucking, life-stealing
nonsense was your religions getting into the mix. 'All sex is bad, especially outside of
marriage'. What a crock! It's stories told to scare people off of summoning us. I mean, I can
kill. I can't remove a soul. Short of killing, anyway. But where's the fun in that? Where's the
payment? Nowhere, I tell you! I mean, I-"

Harry's frown came back. What was she going on about?

Demons - Succubi in particular - didn't take souls?

Of course, he'd been willing to maybe trade his for the benefit. That was the whole point of
the summoning! But now this tiny thing who was way too young - words to the contrary
notwithstanding - to be talking about sex at all was... was...
"-And that's why, now, we mostly just take semen. I mean, we can't breed alone, but we can
take a mortal's semen - or fluids and eggs in the case of a humanoid female and an Incubus -
and use them as building blocks for our own people."

"Wait... what?"

She, now, frowned slightly, glaring up at him before sighing, which made her wings flex far
enough up to almost bring the taloned joints together as her little shoulders rose, "Semen.
Cum. Jizz. Whatever you want to call it. Succubi need it to make more Succubi. We can 'eat'
it, absorb it into our bodies in any way it touches us - internally or externally - and use it to
get stronger. Then, when we go back home, we use the raw material - essentially blank DNA
and amino acids - to make more of us. So that's my payment. Uh... details to be worked out,
of course. I just want semen."

Harry shook his head. It couldn't be that simple, could it? There had to be... "What's the
catch?"

She shrugged. "None, really. I mean, there's no way you - even as studly as you might be for
a fifteen-year-old - could provide enough to keep me here. But, I sense teenage boys all over
this place."

"It's a school," Harry offered.

She grinned, now, all traces of annoyance gone, "Perfect. That's more than enough, then. So,
here's what I propose and feel free to offer a counter-proposal. You, as the Contractor, can use
me as you see fit, whenever, where ever. Whatever hole, whatever method, I'm your servant
until the Contract ends. Even if it's not sex-related. With me so far?"

Harry nodded, his dick, which had only just started to wilt the tiniest bit, flared back to full-
mast at the very idea of having this creature, which apparently was truly a succubus, even if
her form was not traditional, at his beck and call.

"You cannot banish me until a certain task is complete, a task of your design. This is the task
which the Contract will be made to uphold. If payment is not made in kind, I can leave - and
take you with me. Which means you'll basically be fucked dry by me and all of my kind until
there's nothing left. You won't enjoy that as much as you might think. It usually takes about
five minutes."

Harry, at first aroused even further by that idea, shuddered.

Maybe not, then.

"As far as payment itself... I want your semen, as Contractor, at least weekly. That's for my
own personal use and power. That means you have to use me, put your semen on or
preferably in me, at least once per week. Once per day is preferable, but I have the feeling
you'll have other... obligations keeping your time pretty tied up. In addition, you don't
complain when I take semen from other places in the school. Or at home, if you're there, for
as far as I can find it. A couple miles."
"Er..." Harry turned slightly green, "You mean, if I was at home, you'd... you'd, er, th-that w-
with my cousin? My uncle?"

One thin, pink eyebrow quirked up. "Not if you don't want me to, I suppose. I can skip them.
And no, I mean, if you want me to suck or fuck someone's semen out, just tell me. It is in my
nature. But I meant more just gathering what's shot out. We have ways of getting it out of
females without them even knowing, or getting it off bedsheets, or socks, or whatever else. It
doesn't have to be fresh, it's just better if it is. Tastier, I mean, and stronger, too."

Feeling slightly better about the situation, Harry nodded. "Anything else?"

She grimaced, "Well... let's see," then started tapping a dainty finger on her chin, looking
down absently near his belly-button, uncomfortably close to the tip of his member, "My
personal payment, the wider payment to keep me here and build up our world... It's your turn,
I think. Tell me, Master, what you want. Besides me, of course. What is your end goal?"

Harry frowned yet again, stymied. His first thought, of course, was help with Voldemort.

Yet this, even if she professed to be an adult, was apparently a child. He couldn't throw her
into that!

Harry started glancing around, hoping for inspiration.

"Um...," he eventually said, drawing the attention of the creature, who had started looking
around idly herself, "Any... any suggestions? I mean, I have this problem with a madman
trying to kill me, but aside from that..."

This time, the other eyebrow quirked up. "A madman, eh? Wizard-type, like you?"

Harry nodded, but shook his head immediately afterward, "Yeah, but you don't- you don't
need to get involved with that."

She shrugged again, "Your choice, I suppose. I mean, I could take him back home. Get rid of
him for good, benefit us, too."

Harry frowned again, "No... this is my fight. He- he..."

"Family?" Her voice was solemn, quiet, if still a little high and soft for his tastes.

This time, Harry nodded. "My parents."

"Bastard," she murmured, then looked up at him firmly, "Then I propose this: When he's
gone, I go. Until then, I service you as I said, including helping you against your madman.
Keep your morale up, so to speak. Or anything else you need."

This time, Harry full-on scowled. "No. You don't need to fight-"

"I didn't say fight," she raised both hands as if to ward off his anger, but did not appear at all
cowed, "I said help you. I can fight. We all can. But I can also die, and I have no intention of
doing so. If it comes down to it, then yes, I'll put my life - or more likely, my existence on
this plane - on the line for yours. It's still fair, because it's really unlikely this guy knows how
to kill a Succubus permanently, and even less so that he has the balls to do it."

Harry murmured, "I wouldn't doubt either," to himself, but she didn't appear to hear.

Instead, she reviewed, "So, I'm yours to use however you see fit until this wizard madman of
yours is dead. In return, I get your semen at least weekly, or more if I request it, up to once a
day maximum but more if you want it, for your health, because Contracts are designed, these
days, to protect us both equally, and your tacit-slash-explicit approval to gather semen from
elsewhere in my range to take back home when I go. Anything else?"

Harry thought for a moment, then asked, "Well, I mean... what are your... preferences? I
mean... I may not be experienced, but I know girls like... well, some things more than others."

"It's sweet," the little creature grinned the same dazzling one she'd used first on him, "that
you care! But I can assure you, as long as it's sex, I'll enjoy it. I am a Succubus. But I like the
same things you like, for as long as I'm here. It's partly due to the nature of Profligull's ritual,
and partly due to our nature. We like sex. All of us, in all its forms. We like our partners to
bring us pleasure, and we like to bring pleasure to our partners. Whichever works for me, I
enjoy both."

"But... er..." The more Harry thought about this, the worse - and better - it sounded. Sure, free
sex, as much as he wanted! That was great!

But... at what cost? Apparently not his soul, or his life, but... he'd all but enslaved this
creature.

"Ah, I see where you're going," she growled, then smiled again, "But let me assure you, your
own personal feelings of guilt are, in this case, entirely misplaced. When a Summoning is
performed, we choose who goes. I volunteered. So there's no slavery at all. I wanted to come.
I wanted a Contract. And the longer I'm here, Mr. Too-Much-Heart, the more I want to stay
for a while. And yes," she finished, smirking upward at him, "It's plain to see on your face.
No, I can't read minds. Not yours, because you’re still the Summoner. As a Contractor, I will
be able to. I can also read others in a fashion, if I try. It's more a combination of empathy and
reading body language, though."

"Still," Harry replied, shaking his head again, "That doesn't answer my question. What, aside
from pleasure I guess, and- and semen, do you get out of this? It could kill you!"

"The pleasure and semen are enough, I can promise you," she replied, "and as I said, it's not
very likely I'll die. The fact that, as a succubus, I will personally grow more powerful from
your semen as my Contractor is an added bonus to me. Think of it... well, you're a wizard, so
this is a magic school, right? Think of it like this: every time I get your personal semen to use
myself, it's like I'm attending a class for magic. In fact, I do actually get magic - mana - out of
it. That's used to power our growth, or our abilities beyond the normal. Flight. Actual mind-
reading - not something I've mastered yet - and so on. So I'm getting something equivalent to
an education, as well. Or levelling up in a video game, if you prefer."
That - well, those - at least made some sense to Harry, though he'd only rarely been able to
sneak a turn on Dudley's computer or consoles. "Al- Alright, then... Um... I should probably
ask what side benefits there are for me, right? If you're getting this 'training'?"

This time, she smiled even wider, then licked her lips, making Harry's cock jump again, "I'm
glad you asked, Master," she practically purred. "Because yes, I was planning on it. You want
sex. Any teenaged boy does, right? Well... I like to think that, even though this is my first
Summoning, I'm pretty good at that. But I also know how teenaged humans think. Aced my
psychology classes, you know. There's other girls out there, right? Girls you wouldn't mind
slipping that thing into," she finished, gesturing needlessly downward with her chin.

Harry blushed, but after a few seconds, nodded.

"Well, I can help you there, too. It'd be my pleasure."

"But- but I thought you wanted semen," Harry frowned.

"I do," she shrugged, this time extending and flexing her wings backward as she resumed
speaking, "But I like sex. Sex with girls, boys- to be honest, animals. Whatever. To a
succubus, it's all the same. Pleasure is pleasure. So I'll give you some experience and some
training 'on the house' so to speak by virtue of just being around and in your service. But, if
you want a side benefit, I'll go beyond just training you to be an amazing lover. I'll help you
score the girls, too. Or boys, if you want to try that out."

Harry shuddered.

"No boys, then. That's alright. Threesomes with two guys out? Just want to find out in
advance. I'm assuming two or more females is fine for you."

That question Harry had no idea how to answer. He'd never even considered it.

Wouldn't that put his genitalia within ten feet of another boys', naked and without even a
shower barrier or clothing between them?

Then again...

"Well, something to think about later, then," she shrugged once more. "Now, Master, one
more time... tell me if I messed up. If I didn't, to seal the deal, you have to kiss me, right on
the lips. With tongue. That's how we sign contracts, though it won't be finalized until we
consummate - have sex."

Harry nodded, gesturing with his still empty left hand for her to continue.

Part of him didn't know why he bothered using his still-bloody right hand to cup his
scrotum... it seemed kind of pointless, since his length extended well above his wrist.

"I, the Contractee, agree to serve you, the Contractor, in any way you so desire, explicitly
stated or implied or anywhere in between, with an emphasis on educational and sexual
methods, the former with a further emphasis on survival and the latter on enjoying said
survival, up to and including risk of planar habitation or even death, until such time as the
wizard known to the Contractor as-"

She paused.

Harry blinked, "Er, V- Voldemort."

"Voldemort," (Harry was quite pleased to see that she hadn't hesitated at all in saying the
name) "is deceased and utterly unable to further harm the Contractor. In recompense, I, the
Contractee, shall obtain from the Contractor at minimum, one full biologically produced dose
of semen from his own body weekly, and more at my request up to a maximum of one per
day for my own personal use plus any semen from the Contractor that I personally extract, as
well as the Contractor's permission to harvest semen from all suitable males within two miles
of his current location as I see fit, should the Contractor have no other duties for me to fulfill
at that time. Said harvesting shall be for the purpose of returning to the Contractee's home
plane for use there in the building up of said plane and its inhabitants. Should payment not be
made by the Contractor within any given week for the duration of the Contract, the
Contractee shall have the right, authority, and power granted by the Contractor to declare the
Contract null and void, and, in lieu of further payment, take the Contractor's body to the
Contractee's home plane for disposal as the Contractee sees fit, i.e. Final Harvesting."

The girl took a deep breath, then looked up at Harry with wide, almost innocent-seeming
eyes, "Did I miss anything?"

He inhaled, then shook his head, "No, I think that's it."

"Alright, then, my kiss, Master?"

Slowly, Harry, pulse pounding in his head for some reason, possibly the nubile, nude
demoness before him, or the weight of the magicaly binding contract he was about to agree
to, or destiny, or sheer horniness, or some combination of those, leaned forward and down.

She tilted her head slightly, licked her lips as he approached, then closed her eyes quietly.

He approached further.

Then, a mere centimeter from her lips, his nose already past the tip of hers, he stopped. "I
don't even know your name," he whispered.

"I don't know yours either, Master. True names are special to us. Kiss me."

He gulped.

She was a child...

Or an adult.

A demon.

Not human, for sure. He was about to have a kiss with a non-human.
His first, final, disastrous date with Cho Chang notwithstanding, this could be considered his
first kiss.

No, wait, before Yule.

Harry shuddered, but not with memories of just a few short months prior.

No...

It was power. Power, and lust.

Suddenly, his body froze, and for a moment, he grew terrified.

An exceedingly gentle touch occured on each of his closed eyelids. "Open your eyes,
Master," the creature whispered, from just before his face, still.

He did, but found quickly that he was still frozen otherwise.

"Don't worry, Master," she looked up at him from less than an inch away, "The Contract is
sealed. I'm on your side, I cannot harm you. I just... want to enjoy this, too." Before he could
do anything more than blink, the same feather-light touch of a single fingertip touched the
base of his cock, then the wrist of his right hand.

"Now, lesson number one," she whispered, eyes still locked on his, "It's against the law for us
to take the virginity of a human, and from that kiss I knew you were. So I'll do something
else, for now, and then we'll go find you a human to fuck. Then we can do whatever,
whenever. Okay, Master?"

He tried to nod, shake his head, anything.

After a moment of motionless Harry, she smiled, "Oops. Blink once for yes, twice for now."

He blinked.

"Good, I'm glad to have an agreeable Master. Now... Lesson number two. Sometimes, a slow,
gentle thing humans usually call making love is in order. Sometimes, it's an animalistic rut
most call fucking. This time, this first time, it'll be more like the second. We can educate you
on the rest after you've had a few proverbial cherries popped, alright, Master?"

He blinked once again.

For some reason, being all-but paralyzed made his erection even more painful, but her body
was just beyond where it still twitched. And he could do nothing, nothing at all, to relieve it!

"Lesson three," she purred after he had blinked, "Fog of Lust. Our most basic power. A wave
of our wings with some intent behind it, and we excrete pheromones - conveniently spread by
the wings, too - which make humans extremely aroused. You didn't need it, but I had to show
you. That cost me almost nothing, by the way, so no extra charge for now. I'll be keeping
track, and using my powers is one of the ways in which I can ask for extra payment from
you. Just so you know.
"Now," she inhaled, looking down, "You might've heard of a blow-job. That's what I'm gonna
do for you now, to take the edge off. Then we're gonna go find some pussy. I'll use the Fog on
her, and when she's ready, you sweep in and give her what she wants. Simple, right?"

After a moment, Harry blinked, then blinked twice more.

"So... sounds easy, but you don't want to do it?"

He blinked once.

"It's not rape, you know," she clarified, "the Fog doesn't force someone to want sex. It just
makes them horny. Well, hornier."

Harry said nothing, only tried to send a glare.

"Fine," she tapped his body, right over his heart, and Harry found himself able to move
completely again. "What's the problem," she asked, clearly a bit exasperated.

"The problem," Harry growled, "Is that it does sound like rape to me!"

"Well, it's not," the girl said firmly, "She can say no. And if she does, we'll go elsewhere.
Remember, I like what you like. Right now, the idea doesn't appeal to me at all. So find some
girl that'd probably want to do you anyway, and we'll use her. Simple. Who've you seen
eyeing you?"

Harry swallowed, partially mollified. That... did sound a little less like rape.

Only...

She heaved another exasperated sigh, then stuck her palm, fingers out, on his forehead. "Hold
still, Master..."

A moment later, an image popped into his head.

And, apparently, hers.

"Asian, huh? Lost the boyfriend... nah, too much drama to start with."

He heard the girl speak as if through a sound machine. Hazy, distorted, but understandable.

Another image.

"Oh, a ginger. Those are fiery. Drama, though, with the brother..."

Another.

"Bookworm? Maybe. Let's keep looking..."

Another.

"Ooh. Wait. Isn't she from that other House? The one you don't trust?"
Harry wrenched his forehead away from her hand, then growled, "Yes, she is. I don't even
know her name."

"She'll do," the small creature pronounced, "Blondes are fun."

"How do you know she's- that she'd be willing?" Harry asked, trying to sound firm but not
sure he pulled it off.

Slytherin or not, she was one of the best looking girls in the school, in any grade.

"A girl knows," was his only reply, "Now, I got enough out of your head that I think I know
where she'll be. And yes, that was mind-reading for real, but since I had your permission, sort
of, I could use it on you. And yes, that's gonna cost you two more loads. Today. Well,
tomorrow, since it's just about midnight."

The last was said with her cerulean, shining eyes focused somewhere over Harry's left
shoulder.

He turned quickly, but saw nothing.

The teenaged boy turned back quickly, staring wide-eyed down his chest when he felt
something warm, wet, and thick slide up the length of his shaft from the base to the tip in a
serpentine pattern.

The succubus had not even knelt, but had only bent her head low, showing him that not only
was she gifted with a pair of small wings, but a short tail, no more than two feet long, which
sprouted from just above her arse and had, apparently, been facing away from him the whole
time they'd been talking.

That was a minor detail, though, because she was licking him again, still looking upward
somehow, this time down, around his shaft with a tongue that, while forked like a snake's,
was otherwise just long.

It curled around him twice before she pulled it back, then opened her mouth wide, and sank
down.

Down, her lips moved, past the sensitive glans, and all the way down to his base.

He felt, briefly, what might have been tonsils, and the tongue end, or turn, then the back of a
throat - he thought it was, anyway - and then she bent at the waist, allowing him to sink in
further.

With a groan Harry's hands fell on her head, only then able to tell she was also graced with a
pair of thin horns that didn't even breach her bobbed hair.

He didn't try and guide her, though, for there was not enough sanity left in him to do so.

His entire dick, six and a half inches, was in the creature's mouth and throat. It was hot,
almost painfully so, quite wet, like a sauna or shower, and working him.
Tight, working him even more with the apparently prehensile tongue and swallowing action,
it was all Harry could do to process the sheer physical bliss emanating out of his new
servant's mouth and throat, into his cock, which throbbed and jerked spasmodically through
no will of his own, to his hips, which also jerked irregularly backward and forward, though
not far, in a crude emulation of what might be called 'thrusting' if one were feeling generous,
up, down, and out through the rest of his body.

Somehow, after a few seconds, Harry realized she was watching his eyes, and the thin lips of
the tiny mouth, stretched wide to fit around him, almost comically so, were curled up into a
faint smile even as his pubic hair obscured it.

Then one dainty, thin-fingered hand cupped his bloody ball-sack and gave it a tender squeeze,
and he exploded.

Harry's world turned white, his mind unable to process the sensation beyond 'too much'.

When color and shadow returned, there was an ache of emptiness in his groin that he'd never
felt before, and an intense feeling of satisfaction which filled not the emptiness, but the
remainder of Harry's body.

Only after processing those two sensations did Harry realize he was laying, quite nude, on a
stone floor in a cool room.

The only spot on him that was warm, in fact, were the front middle of his thighs.

Harry blinked his eyes into focus, then turned them down his body.

Straddling his legs, just as nude as she had been before, was the succubus, now grinning
confidently, "Enjoy that, Master? I'm hardly the first that sucked a virgin unconscious, but I
think my time might be close to a new record for that, at least."

Harry grunted, unable to find words to reply. Already, though, the nubile form on his legs, the
knowledge, the memory, of what she'd just done, coursed through him, causing blood to flow
once more 'southward', and the emptiness to begin to recede.

"Mm, didn't think that'd satisfy you, though," the creature grinned as his penis twitched then
began to swell before her, "and you do owe me two more doses... but it's time for your
virginity to be a past-tense thing. Up you get, Master."

Then her wings fluttered into motion, passing within a second to a nearly-invisible haze not
unlike a hummingbird's wings, before she lifted straight up off him, giving his turgid member
a single pat with her left hand as she did so.

She landed a few feet away, then offered a too-small hand to help Harry to his feet.

He took it reluctantly, and yelped with surprise as she hauled him, apparently without effort,
upright with just one hand.

"Looks can be deceiving, Master," she smirked once more, "I told you I was an adult. Now...
your blonde snake-girl.Your memories suggested a study group in the library. What time does
that close on a weekend?"

Harry blinked once, "Er, ten, I think. It's..."

"Nearly two, you were unconscious for over an hour," she said, grinning again, "But that's not
a problem. I'm going to assume there's basic protection against fornication. No going into
girl's dorms, things like that. Right?"

Harry, having had some experience with that, nodded once.

Unperturbed, the succubus wrapped a hand around his dick and started walking, literally
tugging him along. "Come on, then. Get dressed."

While he complied, Harry paused, looking up at his servant- though so far she'd been pretty
bossy, he realized, almost like Hermione- "What about your clothes? And your hair. No one
in the school has pink hair."

"Lesson... meh, whatever. Lesson. We call it... Invisibility. Really," she smirked at his wide-
eyed expression, "It's got a more flowery name. Incubi can't use it, only Succubi - they have
other powers, as do we, the other gender can't use - but I like the simple one."

Harry nodded, familiar with the idea. He, after all, owned a rather good Invisibility Cloak left
to him by his father.

One I should've brought with me, he thought to himself as he slipped on his shoes and put his
hand on the Room's door.

This time, even as she faded into nothing as far as his eyes were concerned, the creature
wrapped her child-like hand in his and stepped out into the hallway, pulling him along.
"Alright, Master, lead the way - to the Library first. If she's not there, we can keep looking."

While they walked, Harry was struck by something for the second time. "Well... if you don't
want me to know your name, what should I call you?"

He felt, more than heard, the nude creature shrug by the pull on his left arm. "Whatever you
want, Master. I'm your servant, remember?"

That being said, the names he whispered one after the other as they walked down the moon-
lit halls, carefully avoiding the soft patter of a patrolling Professor Sinistra's slippers, were
shot down one by one.

Until, that is, just outside the library itself. "Lilith," he tried, remembering an old, old
Christian tale.

She froze mid-step for a half a heartbeat, then he felt his arm tugged down. A moment later,
soft lips ghosted across his cheek in a kiss that left Harry's whole body tingling with renewed,
almost desperate arousal. "The name - so legend has it - of the progenitor of our species. That
works."
"Lilith it is, then," Harry found himself saying dumbly, while a part of him wondered if this
was what it was like for normal people - people not him - to be around veela.

When the door opened quietly into the silver-lit Library, the faintest of snores could be heard
from off in the stacks.

"Bingo," Lilith's voice came, "There's your little snake-girl. I figured she was the type. Go get
her, tiger. I'll be here to back you up. Before you wake her, give me a few seconds to- spread
the love."

Harry watched, full of apprehension and growing arousal. Truth be told, Harry was quite used
to just a few minutes - he suspected, though he'd never timed himself, to average about five -
of refraction time. The sheer oddity of the situation, however, no matter how much he'd
hoped, dreamed, or even planned for such an occurrence, was the only reason he could think
of for not having a raging hard-on for the entire time Lilith had been present.

Because, as he watched the small, nearly flat rear flex as she walked, apparently unnoticed by
the sleeping girl, across the main reading area of the school's library, he was quite aroused by
the demoness' form, no matter how much he was loath to admit it.

The fact that there was another object of his affect- well, lust- just a few feet beyond her,
sleeping, vulnerable...

And, apparently, one that would soon be his...

It beggared belief, even as the idea excited him beyond measure, beyond any fantasy he
might have had.

Harry watched from just inside the Library door as Lilith crept closer and closer. For a
moment, he wondered how she could claim to be 'invisible' if he could see the succubus plain
as day, and worried she would be caught.

Especially when the blonde girl snorted in her sleep and shifted, causing Harry's breath to
catch in his throat and Lilith to freeze mid-step.

But the girl merely resumed her soft breathing, so Lilith slowly put her left foot down and
continued padding on until she was just a few feet away.

Harry's erection sprung back to life from its half-mast when the pink-haired creature turned a
sultry look over her shoulder and raised a single finger to her lips in the universal sign for 'be
quiet'. A scant second later, she was shaking her head.

The teenaged wizard watched, amazed, as rose-colored dust fell from her hair down over the
succubus' shoulders, which was then wafted forward and around the girl by a few quiet, slow
flaps of the creature's short wings.

He continued to stare as Lilith stepped to the side, all the way to a table on the side of the
section next to the door where he was standing, and jumped slightly to sit on the edge. She
raised a hand to gesture, "Go ahead, Master. She'll be ready for you in... about a minute."
Harry gulped. "A- A minute?" he hissed, "But she's... I'm not sure about this."

Lilith's bright blue eyes rolled, clearly visible even in the moonlight streaming in through the
half-opened curtains. "Yes, about a minute. Two, tops. Believe me, though, at the end of two,
she'll be begging. And what's to be sure of? You want to get laid, right? She wants it, too.
From you. I'm just giving her a little... shot of courage, so to speak."

Harry swallowed, steeled his courage, then started walking, padding forward as quietly as he
could. Only then did he become cognizant that his own clothes were left back in the Room of
Requirement, along with his wand and the knife. Yet again, he was defenseless!

He was still about eight paces from the teenaged girl, suddenly frozen in fear and nerves.

She was not someone he'd ever actually conversed with, not once. Someone he'd admired
from afar for her physical beauty, but never even heard her speak.

That is, until a quiet, groaning voice stole across the otherwise silent library, "N- No, not...
not there... That's... dirty..."

Harry's eyes, as he processed the statement, apparently made while entirely unconscious,
widened. They continued as the girl's left hand (he had not noticed she was a southpaw)
dropped a quill onto the table to slip beneath it, and run the tips of her fingers gently up the
inside of her left thigh.

Then her hips shifted forward, back, and forward again. "Mm... not... well... if... if it's you..."

Harry gulped and swallowed, then cast a nervous glance back at Lilith.

She grinned, gesturing him on once more, but said nothing.

He swallowed past the lump again - it was getting more painful - before taking a few more
cautious steps forward.

"Harry," she moaned, then her eyes drifted open as he froze.

But the blonde girl did not look at him.

Instead, she glanced, bleary-eyed around the library, eyes passing directly over him and Lilith
both, before whispering, "Merlin's rock-hard cock I'm horny..."

Then she shrugged violently, pulling down her robe, before slipping off the vest beneath that
and immediately, hurriedly struggled to undo each button from her white shirt.

Once that was removed - Harry noticed she kept the silver and green tie, leaving it to hang
over her forest-green bra - the girl stood from the chair with a scrape of wood on the smooth
wooden floor, then unceremoniously shoved her skirt and panties down to her ankles in one
smooth motion.

She hit the chair again, panting, and immediately jammed her left hand between her legs,
while her right rose to cup her right breast, kneading violently through the bra.
"F- Finally," she moaned, panting even as her hands moved faster and faster, in time with her
rapid breathing.

"Now, Master," Harry jumped when Lilith's whisper sounded just below and behind his right
ear, "you are visible. If you make yourself known, she's yours. For the night, at least. If you
try and make it good for her, it likely won't be the last time. If you just take care of your own
needs... it may or may not. She wants you badly."

Before Harry could speak or make another motion, the blonde girl moaned again, louder,
"Yes, Harry... I know we're from opposite Houses, but I want you... You green-eyed stud!
Take me!"

Harry swallowed, then took three more steps as the girl furiously worked herself.

He took a minute, then, just to admire the frequent object of his lust.

For she was, he felt, worthy of admiration. As tall as he was to the inch (though admittedly
that wasn't saying much), the girl's long, golden-blonde hair fell to her waist, almost ruler-
straight, usually held back by a Slytherin-green hairband or long barrette. She was thin, but
not to the point of being gaunt, with legs that seemed to take up half of her total height, those
more muscular than the rest of her. The face was angular, with a pointed chin and almost
Romanesque nose, her eyes, he knew, were a green much darker than his own, almost brown.

Her chest, even clad by the emerald bra, was (according to Harry's, and the other fifth-year
boys in Gryffindor's estimation) the third largest and possibly the best-shaped in the year, and
in the top ten for the entire school. Her hips, though it was hard to tell from the side, he could
see were well-formed with only the hint of a hip-bone showing as she jerked in tiny motions
backward and forward on the chair.

"Did you mean it?" he asked quietly, unsure where the gumption to speak up in that most
private of moments had come from.

"Merlin, yes, I- I- what the-"

The Slytherin girl had frozen mid-word and mid-stroke, then her head spun almost
supernaturally quickly to meet his eyes. She screamed, but stifled it almost immediately.

For a moment, all he could see in her dark eyes was terror.

It horrified him to see, after the beautiful, mesmerizing sights and sounds he'd just been
treated to.

"If you meant it, I'll... I'll do it," Harry said quietly.

She swallowed. He watched her thin throat move.

But aside from panting, she made no sound, or move to cover herself.

"No one has to know," he assured her, hoping beyond hope that Lilith was not lying about her
potency, about her abilities, or about the girl in front of him. "Just you and me." And Lilith.
She's staring...

"No one...? Not- not Weasley, or Granger? Not- Dumbledore?"

Her voice was hoarse from panting and her sudden scream. Harry nodded, "No one. Just you
and me," he repeated, feeling lame for saying it again.

"Then yes," she moaned, "Yes. Merlin, for so long I've... No. No more talking!" After a
moment, the girl had stood up, pulled the bra straps from her shoulders so that they hung
loose, then pulled it down around her torso even as she stood, then turned to face him in all
her glory.

Yep, he idly thought with some part of his brain that was still partially functional, she's a
natural blonde.

The sparse hair between her legs appeared to have been trimmed regularly into a thin patch,
not that he had much to compare it to, and her breasts, free at last, hung just slightly on her
chest, the small areolae, light pink, almost invisible against her pale skin in the moonlight, a
bit to the outside, with small, but protuberant nipples.

"The table," Lilith whispered from behind him, "tell her to get on the table. It'll be more
comfortable than the chair."

Harry nodded, then glanced around. The girl's own study table was still filled with books and
what looked like a History assignment- no wonder she'd fallen asleep.

But the table next to it... He pointed, "Get on the table."

"R- Right," the girl whispered, then scrambled to obey.

Without taking his eyes off his soon-to-be conquest, Harry followed, hands twitching to grab
at the shapely rear. When he reached her, though, the Slytherin girl was already sitting on the
edge of the table, legs spread, waiting. Her eyes tracked his movements, and Harry stopped
just a step away.

"I've... I've never..."

"Me neither," she murmured, and suddenly she erupted in a light blush that covered the
whole upper half of her torso. "But I'm glad it's going to be you. Come on... I'm so horny!"

The tender tone of the first two sentences was ruined by the last, as her voice took on a
desperate, even demanding tone.

"Okay, Master," Lilith whispered again, "you can take her whenever you want. You probably
don't even need to be gentle... I gave her quite a dose. Just take some care for her needs, won't
you?"

"Er... I'm not sure where to start," he admitted, not sure if he was talking to the Slytherin or
the succubus.
"Use your tongue and hands on her breasts, first," Lilith suggested quietly, "males seem to
like that... I do, too. It feels good for females, too. Then maybe your hands on her cunt, like
she was. When you can't hold out any more, put it in. She'll be fine."

Harry tried to oblige, stepping forward once more so that his engorged penis brushed against
the girl's soft thatch of pubic hair, and started to lean forward with one hand outstretched.

He did end up getting his right hand around the girl's left breast, holding the whole of it rather
neatly, he thought, before her own left hand jumped down between them, grabbed a hold of
his penis, aimed, and then, using her legs wrapped around his waist, pulled him in with a
mighty heave.

"Uungh," she grunted, eyes grimacing shut momentarily.

Harry noticed none of that, though.

Instead, almost like when Lilith had taken him in her mouth, he saw only white.

The moment passed quickly, though, because that vague sense of unsatisfaction, that empty
hunger, came roaring back with a vengeance.

When Harry's eyes opened from the shock of being forced by the girl he was currently inside
into just that place, they were hard.

Desperate.

Needy.

Strong.

"You don't get control," he heard himself say, "I'm the Master, here."

Then his hands fell on her wrists, pulling both up over her head and then locking them in
place with his left hand, leaning forward, while his right was freed up to resume his groping
of the girl's chest.

"H- Harry... I don't care," she gasped, "Just- just move! Please!"

With a grunt, Harry complied, forcing his hips to move out of where they most wanted to be.

The pleasure was exquisite, all wet silk and heat.

Going back in doubly so.

One controlled motion was all Harry could manage before he lost all semblance of restraint.

The second thrust was wild, hammering into the girl so hard her breasts bounced.

The third and more were harder still, faster and faster, until the once-straight hair was tousled
and sweat-drenched, just like her slick, pale skin.
The only time the breasts did not bounce with the pounding he was giving the girl was when
they were in his hand or hands, for he released her own arms about ten seconds in.

But she did not fight him off. Instead, the girl wrapped one arm around his neck to steady
herself, while the other alternated between the breast he was not currently mauling and her
mouth, occasionally sticking one or two fingers in, sucking on them, then moving the hand
back to her chest. All the while, she could only desperately inhale air as he withdrew, only to
have it all driven out when he pounded back in.

"Three minutes, Master," Harry was distracted only slightly by Lilith's coo in his ear, "longer
than average, at least, and still going strong... but your virginity is lost, now. I want your
semen. If you come in her, I have to eat it out of her. So get her off and then let me finish you,
hmm? It wouldn't do to let her know about me just yet."

The succubus grinned internally. It wouldn't make much difference, in the end. She could
either alter the girl's memory of the evening to make it be Harry who had done that deed, or
just erase that part completely. But she wanted him directly.

"No," he murmured, then returned his attention to the task at hand momentarily.

The girl's eyes were starting to roll back in her head, the hand on his neck starting to slip.

"You," he slowly turned his eyes from that magnificent sight to the petite succubus at his
side, "I'm going to get her off while you get me off. Lay on the floor, I want to be in your
mouth again."

One rose-colored eyebrow quirked up, but Lilith smiled. "Alright, Master, as you command."

Without further hesitation, the succubus crawled under the table and positioned herself so she
was facing Harry, then rolled over onto her back and opened her mouth.

"Hey," Harry grunted, trying to get the girl's attention, "I'm getting close. I can't have a kid
yet, so I have to pull out."

"D- Don't- s- so close-" the girl moaned.

"I'll finish the job, don't worry," he smirked, unsure whether it was bravado or sheer
willpower to do so, but somehow, he forced himself out of the delicious embrace of her
vagina, then dropped to his knees.

A moment later, Lilith's long tongue was wrapping around him, laving all the juice left from
the girl off of him, then moving down to do the same with his scrotum, and even down the
insides of his thighs. She must have been flowing!

Then Harry looked up just in time to miss the succubus finishing that job. Instead, he leaned
forward, bringing his mouth up to the girl's blonde-haired slit, puffy and stretched wide from
arousal and his recent inhabitation, and oozing just the thinnest trail of blood. She smelled
strongly of... something, something besides iron and copper. He couldn't quite put his finger
on it, but he knew right away that while strange, he loved the odor. It was familiar, yet
unknown. Tangy, yet sweet, and a bit savory, too.

He had to taste it!

But first, Harry moaned in ecstasy as, once again, Lilith's mouth, both wetter and hotter, if
not quite as tight as the Slytherin's pussy, engulfed him up to the half-way mark before
beginning to slide up and down, with the long, strong tongue curling around to finish the job.

If the girl found the pause annoying, she made no clue as, just a moment later, Harry's tongue
found its way into the gaping hole he'd left, even while his hands sought out the tiny bud that
he suspected was the 'good spot' spoken of in hints and whispers by mostly upperclassmen.

Her body jerked as his tongue thrust in, and again when his hand found the little bud.
"Merlin, yes," she cried, voice both sultry and rough.

Must be doing something right, then, Harry found himself thinking, even while he was
distracted by the mouth on his cock below the table.

Still, he knew Lilith was going to get him off. She'd done so once already, and he was so very
close. Within just a few seconds, probably, he'd... yes, here came his orgasm now.

But the girl... he wanted there to be more!

It couldn't be just the once. He wouldn't let it!

Somehow, knowledge flew into Harry's brain that should not be there.

His tongue, obeying the imperative delivered to him by himself - and whatever else -
withdrew, moving upward, switching places with his fingers, the longest two of which
punched into the girl and curled up toward the back of the same bud, which he also knew,
somehow, to suck lightly between his lips even while running his tongue over the bulge.

Even as he grunted out his own earth-shattering orgasm into Lilith's eager mouth, the
vibrations down his tongue and the pressure from his lips, on top of the twining, seeking
fingers inside her, caused the girl before him to shriek in her own orgasmic bliss, lifting her
hips off the table, back arching up so high he feared her spine would snap, as she keened to
the ceiling of the Library.

Once again, Harry's mind filled with white.

A few seconds later, it was gone. His eyes moved down to see Lilith idly holding his half-
erect penis between two fingers while licking it clean, occasionally putting the very tip to her
lips and giving the hole a little suck. "Satisfied, Master?" she winked saucily, then gave him a
little tug before scrambling - altogether too gracefully, he felt, for such a child-like figure -
from beneath the table.

Slowly, he fought his way to his unsteady feet.

The girl was staring at him through half-lidded eyes, still breathing heavily, apparently
unashamed of her mostly naked form, which was still only covered by the bra around her
stomach, and the tie which only lay around her neck, and now tangled within the long hair.

"That was... pretty good," Harry blushed at his own moronic-sounding words.

The girl snorted quietly, "Better than 'pretty good', Potter. But you'd better not go spreading it
around, or I'll hex you so bad your grandparents will feel it."

"I won't," he promised, meaning it this time as opposed to the previous, when he still felt like
he'd mostly been saying it just to get her to agree to shag him. "I... I can't, actually. I don’t- I
don't know your name."

One blonde eyebrow quirked up. "It's Greengrass, Potter. Daphne. But don't think you can get
familiar with me. You're still a Gryffindor, and I'm still a Slytherin."

He shook his head. He knew full well how it would go for the both of them if it got out that
they had had sex.

"Master," Lilith cooed once more in his ear, "you might want to tell her to get dressed. I sense
a male approaching. If he looks in here and she's like this..."

Harry gulped. "Er, you might want to get dressed. There... could be a patrol."

Her breath hitched. Then she jerked to a sitting position. "Shit! How could I not think about
that? Shit, shit, shit... it's a good thing you pulled out, Potter, because I'm not on the potion,
either! I... shit, shit. You need to get dressed too, get out of here! I'll be fine. Go!"

Harry was already half-way out the door when she finished talking, though still just as naked.

He ran, panicked, all the way back to the Room of Requirement and was inside before he
registered Lilith's tinkling laughter following at a much more sedate pace.

As she ambled into the room, just as naked as before, Harry fought down the urge to take her
right there, just to show her. Instead, he growled, "Thanks for the warning. A bit earlier
would have been nice."

"Warning? Oh... I just said that to get her moving," Lilith smirked, "Because I want my turn."

Harry scowled, "But you just-"

"Ah, ah," Lilith raised one finger, "I used my powers, three times tonight is the price. I've
gotten two. If you think I'm being unfair, you can refuse... and I can take you back home.
That's the contract."

Harry's scowl switched to a frown almost at once. "Still, I just... twice. And the girl- Daphne.
She..."

Lilith's eyes rolled, and, with a gesture, she threw several small, flickering yellow flames
around the room to provide a little more light than the still faintly-glowing ritual circle and
his own candles, which were now burning low. "She's fine, the nearest male I felt moving
was on the other side of the Castle. She can make it back just fine, I'm sure. But, if it will
make you feel better, I'll sense her out in particular. At no extra charge."

Harry's frown deepened, but he nodded, crossing his arms across his chest, all the while
wishing the sight of the too-young-looking succubus didn't immediately make him rock-hard.

Because, despite a harrowing run and having just lost his virginity and finishing in Lilith's
mouth twice, Harry was indeed, hard once again.

But he only watched as the succubus closed her eyes and, slowly, began to spin in a circle.

After a few seconds, three-quarters of a turn, or near to it, she stopped. One dainty hand rose
about half-way to horizontal and pointed, "There. She's moving down a stairway, I think.
Stopped. Now... moving that way... down three stairs... that way now... still... turned again...
and stopped. I think she's in her room, because I can sense five other girls roughly her age in
the same area."

Harry forced himself to remember past the distraction of Lilith's body. There was Daphne, of
course. Davis, he thought, the pretty petite girl with the glasses- another he wouldn't mind
shagging. Parkinson (again, if only to humiliate her and Draco both). Bulstrode. And... those
twins, maybe?

He'd never talked to any of them except a few exchanges of insults with Pansy.

Then Lilith opened her eyes and turned toward him. "Now, my payment..."

Again, her voice was low and sultry, far too much so for the child-like form, but as she
stalked toward him, Harry found himself unable to move. Not because of whatever she had
done to paralyze him before, but because...

Damn it, he did want her. Badly.

Lilith stopped two of her own paces, perhaps one and a half of his, in front of him, and
opened her legs slightly, then raised both arms to the side, before turning slowly, giving him a
chance to just look at her.

Okay, he conceded, child-like in size, maybe, but she's clearly not. The succubus' breasts
were, as he'd seen right after she had appeared, small, but noticeably there. Those of a girl, he
guessed, between twelve and thirteen at the youngest. Her rear was more curved and shapely
than Daphne's, though not by much, but it appeared to be more because of the shorter stature.

The wings, tail, and horns - he could see one tip just poking out, noting that they were a
dusky red sort of color - didn’t throw him off at all, because the more important parts Harry
knew were all there.

If anything, her nature adds to the effect.

When she had completed her rotation, Lilith stopped and looked up at him. "You can be
gentle, or you can do it hard, like your blonde girl. Just use me."
"Use you," Harry repeated slowly, as if trying the words out. She had used that phrase several
times before, while they'd been discussing the contract.

Not 'have sex with', or 'make love to', but 'use me'.

Lilith did not respond, not even with a blink. She merely watched him.

"You want me to use you, huh?" he murmured, eyes slightly darkening with lust.

Again, she didn't answer.

"Use you like, what, a whore? A slave? Just rut on you until I'm spent, giving you nothing but
my seed?"

Lilith said nothing, but her small body gave a tiny shudder.

"Stay there, don't move," he ordered, the small movement giving him a flash of inspiration.

He slowly dropped to his knees, eyes not leaving hers. The move put his head level with her
breasts, such was the height difference, but that was enough even with their proximity.

"I see," he muttered, "you're getting wet. Dripping, in fact. You do want to be used. Tell me
the truth."

To his surprise, Lilith's nose rose slightly into the air, as if to look down at him, "So what if I
do? I'm a Succubus. We have our own kinks, too. And yes. I do."

Harry nodded, fighting the urge to grimace and grin at the same time. Somehow, he
maintained what he hoped was a neutral expression. "Soon, you and I are going to have to
have a talk about making love, too, and the merits thereof. But for now, I suppose you can
have your way... you have done me several favors tonight."

Lilith nodded, but said nothing, made no other motion.

Harry blinked, nonplussed.

"Er... were- aren't you going to get started?"

"With what, Master?" was Lilith's only reply, seemingly innocent.

Yet, despite the short time - less than an hour - he'd known her, Harry knew she was anything
but.

"Um... s- sex?"

He felt ashamed to even say it out loud like that, despite all he'd already done that evening.
And why wasn't he tired for Merlin's sake? It had to be pushing three in the morning.

"Um... what's- what's that?" she asked, coyly, then sent him a soft wink accompanied by a
blush.
Why had she done that?

It was as if she was trying to pass along a hidden meaning. But what- Oh.

Oh.

"Well, that's... a good question," Harry said, mulling the idea over.

Not that he didn't know the answer to the question. No, what he was thinking about was what
he was starting to suspect Lilith wanted.

To be used.

Like... well, he supposed like the male version of a d-dildo, whatever that might be like.

A toy for his satisfaction, not as a living thing.

A part of him, a huge part in fact, was repelled by the very idea.

Yet...

Had he not spent the better part of a week researching a ritual to get him just that? A living
fuck-toy?

Was she not right there, asking to be used as such?

"You see," he eventually said, after working out how he wanted to go about this, "when two
people love each other, they like to show it."

"Like a hug?"

He nodded, "Or a kiss. But there's more, another step I'm not sure you're old enough to take."

"I am old enough!" Lilith scowled. He could see the twinkle in her eyes, though. She was
enjoying this, far more, in fact, than he felt he was.

"I don't know," he murmured, shaking his head slightly, though his eyes never left her nude
form. "I don't think you love me, either."

"I do! I do love you, Master!"

This time, it was Harry's eyebrow that quirked up. "Do you? Well... okay. In that case, I guess
I can tell you the next step. First, let's hug, then kiss to get warmed up."

Harry stood up as he was speaking, then held open his arms as if to give a hug to a smaller
sibling.

Eagerly, Lilith stepped into his arms, pressing her face against his abdomen, supposedly
heedless of Harry's straining cock pressed against her chest between the small breasts.
After a minute of enjoying the pounding of his pulse in that member against Lilith's warm
flesh, Harry pulled away, then bent low.

Lilith turned her head upwards, eyes almost closed, and licked her lips.

Harry licked his, then bent further until their lips connected.

This time, though, they did more than just seal a contract with lip-to-lip contact.

Almost at once, his tongue fought for entrance to her small mouth (how had it even held his
cock in there, a part of him wondered); she reciprocated a moment later with her own dueling
against his.

Lilith giggled as he pulled away. "I didn't know you could kiss like that..."

Harry's eyes rolled, doubting that line very much. Still, he had a part to play... a part his dick
was committing him to. "The next step, then... kiss another part of me."

"What, like your hand?" She giggled again.

"No... here, let me show you."

His hands fell on her head, careful to mind the small, pointed horns, and pulled her head
down just a little, so it was level with his tip. "That part. Kiss it. With your tongue, like I
showed you."

"M- Master?"

"Do it."

With apparent hesitation, Lilith complied, kissing the tip like she had before, then sucking -
she groaned as Harry felt another bead of semen from his previous orgasm get pulled out of
his loins - before putting the head in and licking it like a lollipop.

"Yeah, that's the right way," Harry groaned, lost in the moment. She was the perfect height
for this, Harry decided, and knew he was already all but committed to having her do this
daily as long as he had the stamina.

Still... she had asked to be used. He was a kind master, right? "So... now, this might hurt a
little, but it will be really good for me, so try not to choke, okay? This is just the next part of
the kiss."

Lilith turned seemingly terrified eyes up at him, but did not withdraw as his hips jerked
forward, throwing his entire length down her throat.

She did gag, though he suspected that, too, was faked (or maybe he really did catch her by
surprise), before he began fucking into her mouth hard and fast, almost as fast as he'd done to
Daphne not half an hour earlier.
Still, Lilith let him for a few seconds, then her small hands came up to beat uselessly against
his thicker, stronger arms.

She gagged again, and this time, with a monumental effort, Harry pulled out, gasping, and let
go of her hands.

She coughed once, twice, three times, one hand on her throat, massaging it, while she turned
tear-ridden eyes onto him. But she said nothing.

"That was one way," Harry murmured, "for people who love each other to share affection.
Did you like it?"

Lilith shrugged noncommittally, looking away.

"Lay down on your back, then. Because that kind of kiss has two parts."

She obeyed, slowly. When she was laying spread-eagle, Harry knelt between her legs and
hitched the girl's short legs up onto his shoulders to bring her own glistening pussy - running
wet, really, because a rivulet started down her stomach as soon as the angle shifted - up to his
bent-over face. "This is something like what that felt like for me."

At once, Lilith groaned as his tongue hit her folds. Unlike with Daphne, who he'd been
desperate to get off as quickly as possible, Harry had no such illusions about his skill with the
succubus. She'd said she had never been with a human, after all, not that she'd never been
with anyone.

So he decided to take his time and learn a bit, from the small creature's reactions if nothing
else, as he licked and laved, using his hands only to hold her up against him.

It was, he decided, almost identical to Daphne's pussy in layout, only Lilith's had no hair
anywhere, and, in fact, did not have the smaller hole he suspected was for peeing.

At least, not that he could see.

Though, from here, he did note that she had a small, pink anus in the appropriate place,
though he avoided staring too long at it, feeling that it was a bit too dirty, even for him.

After several minutes of his licking, Harry watched as Lilith's breathing increased in pace,
until her dainty hands were kneading her own small breasts. Just when he felt she might be
getting close - at least, judging by her fluttering eyelids - Harry pulled away, letting her waist
drop down onto his pulsing member.

He slid back, letting her fall further toward the floor. "Are you sure," he asked quietly, "that
you love me enough for the next way to show someone you love them?"

Lilith's hooded eyes almost seemed to glare through the slits he could see for a moment, but
she nodded, giving a soft, "Mm-hm. That felt really good, Master. I can see why- why people
let the people they love do the other thing."
Harry nodded. "Alright, then. This might hurt, but I'll try to be careful if it does. Afterward,
it's supposed to feel really good. Okay?"

"Okay, Master. I'm alright if it hurts. It's for your pleasure, right?"

Harry nodded, then grabbed onto the succubus' ankles, lifting them up and then pushing
away.

They went further than he expected them to, all the way back so that her toes touched the
floor near her rosy hair, in fact, lifting the creature's hips and waist off the floor of the Room
of Requirement and giving him the perfect angle.

"Alright..." he kneed himself slightly closer, "since my hands are full, I need you to put your
hands on the part that was in your mouth, and put it in there."

"In- in where, Master?"

"In the place I was licking."

"But that's... isn't that dirty? That's what Mama said."

"It is dirty," Harry agreed, "but it's like playing in the dirt. It's fun, right? You just have to
take a bath afterward."

"O- Oh." Without another word, eyes still twinkling, Lilith's right hand slipped around his
cock from between her folded legs and guided him to her entrance. "There, Master?"

"Yes, that's just the right spot. Good girl. Now... are you ready?"

She nodded eagerly.

Without further warning, Harry let himself fall forward and down, crushing her into the stone
even as his cock slid to the base deep, deep inside her.

This time, Harry did not white out, not even for a moment.

Instead, all he could comprehend was sheer bliss that put the earlier ecstasy of orgasming, if
not to shame, than at least to a favorable comparison. Being inside Daphne was not quite as
good, either, for Lilith was tighter, warmer, wetter, if a little smoother - she did not seem to
have the same ridges, or the same number, or bumps that Daphne's vagina had.

But it was still exquisite, and he groaned.

As well, feeling the small form all but helpless beneath him (even if she was not) added
another layer to his pleasure. "Does it hurt?"

"No, Master," Lilith murmured, "It's amazing. Morrigan and Xinivrae, you're as big as any
Demon shorter than nine feet tall."
"Um... I'm not sure how I should take that," Harry admitted, before crushing his lips against
hers, and pulling out two or so inches only to plunge back in.

He continued pulsing in and out for over a minute, increasingly feeling like his mind would
shatter from the bliss he was experiencing, before he lifted his head, allowing her to respond.

"Take it as a compliment, Master, for it was intended as o-one."

That Lilith's breath had hitched with the force of the thrust he'd just delivered made Harry
smile. "Good. Now... I can keep going. But you don't want me to, do you?"

Lilith shrugged beneath him as far as her arms would go with her legs locking them in place,
and gave a little squirm of her hips against him from side to side, "Not particularly... I orgasm
when you do. I'd like it to be sooner, though, because it feels good, and because you should
get some rest. So use me like you want to. Really hit m- me hard."

That she'd started to speak in what he guessed was her normal tone, but ended in almost a
moan of need was all it took to convince Harry. He obeyed, lifting his body up so most of his
weight was resting on the girl's ankles, and drove his hips up and down, in and out, as rapidly
as he could, at least twice as hard as he'd been smashing into Daphne earlier.

Lilith's mouth opened into a silent gasp, and her own eyes flared wide, glowing slightly azure
as her back started to arch even with her legs holding her waist off the ground.

Just thirty or so strokes in, she tightened around him even as she grew wetter, and Harry
knew he was done. One, two more strokes, and he collapsed inward and down, spilling
himself as far as instinct demanded - which was all the way - inside the nubile body beneath
him.

As he did so, Lilith's eyes slammed shut and she, too, moaned in release, before collapsing
under her own weight and his, still folded in half.

When Harry came to, he was still hard inside the succubus.

In fact, he was still moving in and out, despite the smell of his own scent leaking out from
between them.

"Keep going, Master, and I'll call this one the weekly... don't- don't stop..."

Lilith's voice quavered weakly as she spoke. Harry, though, had another epiphany. He
released her legs, shifted his grip to allow him to pull her back into a more 'normal' position,
then sat up, pulling her with him to sit on his lap with him still buried almost to the hilt inside
the tiny form.

She yelped in apparent surprise as he rose, but quickly got into the stride. No sooner had he
settled on his knees than she began to bounce up and down on him while his arms snaked
their way around her back, carefully avoiding the small wings which fluttered irregularly
with the creature's movements.

"You said," he grunted, "two words I don't know. Names?"

Lilith grinned, leaned in to kiss him once again briefly, before pulling back with her arms
around his neck while she continued to ride him rapidly, "Morrigan and Xinivrae. Morrigan is
considered the 'mother' of our species, while Xinivrae is the 'father'. It's - at least I used it this
way - a term of pleasant surprise."

Harry nodded, then turned his focus to thrusting up as best he was able to meet the
downstrokes of the petite girl. She grinned in delight at his action, then pulled his head down
to suckle on one small teat, which swelled as soon as he touched it with his mouth.

Despite having no fewer than three orgasms under his belt in roughly an hour, Harry was
nearing completion again just a couple minutes later. To his surprise, though, Lilith winked,
then jumped off him, pulling from his grasp a moment before he was done.

Before he could react to the movement, though, her hands were jerking up and down on his
rod. The sheer sight boggled Harry even as she caused yet another orgasm directly.

To his surprise, though, Lilith did not take it in her mouth. Instead, she aimed him to splash
across her modest chest, where he left several ropey lines.

After he was finished, Lilith looked down, took one long finger, and drew up a part of it.
"Trust me, Master," she whispered, then began to draw, or perhaps write, on his forehead.

Harry watched, entirely confused, as she dipped into the dripping, odiferous semen again and
again, working on his forehead for over a minute, then again over each of his nipples, then, to
his further surprise - though at that point, he wondered why he felt that way - just above his
pubic hair. When she was finished, the succubus gathered up the rest in her hands, licked it
off with apparent relish, then dove down to clean his member with her mouth like she had in
the Library.

"Er, not that I'm complaining," Harry groaned, "because it's amazing, but I'm going to need
another round if you don't stop that."

In response, instead of licking, Lilith just took all of him into her mouth again and gave one
long, slow withdraw, sucking powerfully as she went.

When he fell out of her with a pop, he was, at least, only half-hard... though the process
almost finished itself again when she looked up into his eyes and licked her lips, then clearly
and audibly swallowed.

"Alright, Master, let's get you dressed - for now - and to bed."

While he complied, Harry stopped to wonder, his belt half-on. "Um... where will you sleep?"

Lilith shrugged, "I don't. If I want to pretend, I'll sleep with you - or someone else if you want
me to."

"Er... then what...?"

"Oh, I'll spend most of my nights causing erotic dreams and collecting the leavings. Um... I
know we didn't mention it in the Contract, but would you mind if I collected from the
females, too?"

Harry's brain froze at the thought of females having erotic dreams. It- it wasn't just blokes?

Then again, he had witnessed Daphne Greengrass have one not so very long ago...

"Er, I suppose not- as long as you don't hurt anyone in your gathering."

"Not on my itinerary, no. Not unless they like that sort of thing, in which case I should oblige
- within reason, of course. Right?"

Dumbly, Harry nodded.

Nothing more was said while he finished dressing, and somehow without his noticing, Lilith
materializing some semblance of a black nightie that matched her wings in shade exactly and
robes that matched his around herself, the pair left the Room of Requirement and headed up
to Gryffindor Tower.

The Fat Lady said nothing, only snored a little, as he whispered the password, but she opened
all the same, letting them step through.
 Learning Curves
Chapter Summary

On summoning a succubus for their own enjoyment, many people would keep it a secret
from family and friends. Harry even knows why one would do that.
Yet, the very morning after he summoned her, Lilith is seen by, perhaps, the person
Harry would most like to have kept her existence from: Hermione Granger.
At that point, Ron finding out is inevitable, so Harry does the only thing he can do: Try
to control the situation any way he can. Even if that means hooking up his friends, too.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 2: Learning Curves

The Common Room was half-cleaned. Literally, half of the room was spotless, while the
other had the usual day's detritus scattered about, but there were no elves in sight.

Then again, Harry knew they preferred to remain unseen. So he shrugged and crossed to the
boys dormitory. Before he stepped up, however, he turned to Lilith, "So, rules, I guess. I don't
mind if you sleep with me when you want to- it's your call- but if you're in there, you can't be
seen or heard by my roommates. Not even Ron."

"Okay," Lilith shrugged. Harry started a bit at the motion- her wings had not moved. Were
they the robe? Because now they seemed invisible, and aside from the pink hair, the
Succubus resembled nothing more than a human girl with dyed hair.

"Um... and if you are, um, g- gathering from them, I'd prefer not to know about it. Unless I
say otherwise, I guess."
"I see. Okay, I suppose," Lilith shrugged again.

Then he had another thought, forcing him to stop with a foot half-way up the first step.
"Um... another thing. My friend, Ron? He's the red-head. He... I sort of asked for his help
with tonight. An alibi. He... his end of the deal is setting up a- an encounter for him, too."

"I can't fuck a virgin," Lilith reminded him casually, giving a little shove to nudge him
onward, "It's illegal for us, remember?"

Harry blushed, having, indeed, forgotten that detail in the other more important events of the
night and early morning, but he nodded all the same, "Yeah, but... could I maybe get your
help with- well, him? Helping him out, like you did with me?"

"You want me to find some girl willing to shag him, and Fog her up? Without him knowing, I
presume?"

Harry nodded rapidly, "That'd be great. Thanks!"

"Well, I hadn't said yes, but you are my Master... and I did Contract to 'whatever you need'.
Not that I mind anyway," she prodded him again, and this time Harry started moving.

"Seriously," Lilith said as he started up, "You don't need to ask all the time. I'm your slave as
far as things go, as long as payments are made. I know you don't like the idea, but it's the
truth- it's what I Contracted for. You can just tell me to do things, and I will. Even fuck your
friend's brains out after he's not a virgin, if you want."

She'd just neglect to tell him that one law overrode the other quite firmly in their books for a
little while longer. She'd enjoyed the show too much to let it end now.

"Er..."

Harry froze mid-step. Fortunately another prod got his body moving even if his brain took a
while to catch up.

It wasn't until he was half-undressed and about to climb into his bed in his boxers that he
stopped and turned to look at his best friend.

Ron was tall, thin and gangly, but would no doubt be built like his tallest, most handsome
brother later in life. Bill was, Harry knew, the very definition of an attractive, red-headed
male. No doubt, in a few years, he could get all the feminine attention he wanted with a
minimal effort- something that would suit his friend nicely, Harry thought.

But what about now? What about his promise?

He would help, of course he would. He'd have to be blind not to see a few girls giving Ron a
look-over, and liking what they saw. Harry was even generous enough to say that some girls
he wanted, Ron could have first- and maybe Harry wouldn't take them at all.

But Lilith? His own personal fuck-toy?

Was she that, though?

He had to admit, she spoke- in diction and in tone- like someone far more mature than her
looks indicated. She was even helpful, though...

"Hey, those- that thing you did with my... stuff. What was that?"

"Runes," Lilith shrugged, pausing in her examination of the room and its occupants (She
peeked inside Neville's, Dean's, and Seamus' beds, since all of them had long-since learned to
Silence their curtains against Ron's snores). "For protection and so on."

"Er... Protection?"

She nodded absently, resuming her examination, "Well, for one, I'm supposed to help against
this mad wizard, so there's protections against Magic. Nothing super strong, I'm not powerful
enough to do more right now, but it will at least soften the blow from several of your curses
and hexes. Weaker ones will just bounce off. It's limited though, and I might have to reapply
that one if you get into trouble a lot."

"Okay, that makes sense. The others...?"

"Another that is more or less 'my mark', which tells other Succubi that you're my Master, and
that this is therefore my territory. If someone else summons a Succubus in the area, we'll have
to share- no reason to be antagonistic with a cousin of mine- but otherwise they have to stay
away. If you summon another Succubus, I am 'in charge' since I was here first."

"Er..."

"Mostly it's just to mark my territory. You'll probably never notice it. The third one is for
Stamina. You have a lot, but it will help you to have more. So you can last longer, and be
healthier while doing it. The last one is... well, for your stamina, if you get my meaning. Your
recovery time will be faster once the Rune is fully charged. Near-instantaneous unless I miss
my guess. And no, that won't wear off. Ever. If you want to go, you can keep going until you
pass out from exhaustion, so be careful."

"Um... I'm... grateful?"

"No problem," Lilith grinned, "That one's on the house, since it benefits me as much as you.
Anyway... so your friend, he's kinky."

Harry froze from sitting down again. This time, it only lasted a moment, before he resumed
the motion and put his face in his hands. "What now?"

"He wants to watch you do your female friend, and then have you watch him do it. Likes the
idea of a threesome, I guess, because that's what he's dreaming about right now."

"I didn't need to know that," Harry groaned, "Um... so you won't sleep. I guess you can go-
explore the Castle."
"That's a good euphemism, Master," Lilith smirked at his responding groan, "I'll do that...
after your tasty friend finishes up. Good night, Master. Pleasant dreams of me!"

To his surprise, despite the erection he was sporting again, Harry did, in fact, drift off rather
quickly, and sleep quite well.

Harry was unsurprised to see Neville, Dean, and Seamus gone from the dorm when he had
woken, sat up, and put on his glasses to peer around the room. That their beds were made
also indicated that the House Elves had come and gone (though Harry knew they would
check again after he and Ron had finally gotten up).

It was unusual for him to sleep till dawn, much less what his clock showed to be just after
nine in the morning. Breakfast, on any other day, would be over. Brunch was served on
Sunday, however (making it Ron's favorite day of the week, of course, since he only had to
wait an hour between breakfast, brunch, then brunch and lunch), so they would be fine.

No doubt that was why Ron was still allowing himself to sleep- he would miss breakfast only
for brunch.

He must have been up late waiting for news from Harry.

Oh well, I think I can make it up to him.

"Master," Lilith cooed from the window, making him jump.

"Shite, don't do that," he muttered, rubbing the back of his hand where he'd smacked it on the
bedpost in his start.

"Sorry, Master," Lilith's giggle told him she was anything but, "but I've gathered more than I
expected- girl juice is just as good as semen, and since you don't mind if I swing both ways...
On a side note, did you know there's a Village that has just under half of it within two miles
of your dorm? I'm going to take so much cum home it'll make the other girls sick with envy!"

"Hogsmeade," Harry groaned, "I didn't think about that. I s'pose it's fine, if you keep to the
whole 'don't hurt people to get it' thing... You aren't doing anything else, are you?"

"What? Like Fogging up the Village? No... well, yes. Of course I did. It makes gathering
faster. Is that a problem?"

Harry groaned softly, throwing himself back to lay sideways on his bed, "No, I guess not- if
it's mild. I don't want people having orgies on the street. And it's not fair if people start having
affairs or whatever."

"Oh, no," Lilith assured him, "It's much diluted over that much area. Just enough to get
people thinking about it, that's all. Maybe... a ten percent increase in Lust. Fifteen percent
right beneath me. And yes, I confirmed that was a married couple, and yes, they're gonna
have a baby. You and they are welcome."

"Er... I thought... didn't you take...?"

Lilith's eyes rolled, "Yes, I did, even from him. I don't have to take it all, and I can take the
stuff after one little swimmer's done his bit. Paranoid, much?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, "A bit, yeah. That happens when people all around you make a habit
of screwing you over."

Lilith giggled, "Well, I'll just make a habit of screwing you, or screwing over you if you
prefer. Will that help?"

One of Harry's eyes quirked open. "Um... Ron's right there."

"You remember what he dreams of?"

Harry nodded, frowning.

"He's doing it again. Worst case, he wakes up while I'm riding you, and I suck him off to
warm him up for later. Best case, you come inside me like eight times and he stays asleep so
we can do that later."

Harry's penis sprang up through his boxers on the second of Lilith's sentences, and started to
truly strain on the fourth.

Still, Harry was not quite ready for that step, though after a night that he suspected was filled
with similar dreams, he was opening up to the idea. Instead, however, he climbed back up
into the bed, on his knees, and gestured her forward to join him with a finger.

After she had complied, Harry pulled the curtains closed, silenced them, and then applied the
best locking charm he knew along with an alarm on the doorway.

"On your knees, facing away," Harry instructed. He'd heard about this, too, from the boys-
this time from Fred and George, though they had been talking to Lee Jordan at the time.

"Ooh, no foreplay, Master?" Lilith giggled again while she obeyed, then gave her little rear a
shake, still clad in the negligee and 'robes' from the previous evening.

"That depends," Harry muttered, "are you wet?"

"If you're aroused, so am I," was her reply.

His was, "In that case, no."

Then, without further preamble, Harry lifted the robes and nightie, lined himself up, and dove
straight in.

Once again, it was bliss.

This time, he did not hesitate to pound hard, hammering into the tight pussy for all he was
worth.
He wanted to get off, and get off now, and maybe have another round before brunch. That
required speed, at least this time.

... Maybe she was having a stronger effect on him than he'd thought? Before, having to get
off was something he was starting to loathe.

Now, it seemed it was his favorite thing.

Or, as Lilith started to mewl beneath him, maybe it was just that sex was so much better than
wanking.

With a firm grunt, he spilled himself into her, then immediately started thrusting again.

"Fuck yes, Master," Lilith moaned, then let her forearms collapse down onto the bed,
changing the angle enough for a different sensation to arise for Harry, too.

His hands left her hips, one curling around to grope for her clit- something he knew to be
there, just like on a regular girl, from the night before when he'd eaten her out- and the other
to grip the girl's bobbed hair, both to hold her down and to steady himself. "Fuck," he agreed,
though his was almost an unintelligible groan.

Two minutes later, he spilled himself again, just in time to catch the quiet, "Morgana's tits,
I'm sorry!"

The phrase had been uttered when his curtains had been yanked open.

Then they had been shut, leaving Harry just a glimpse of bushy brown hair.

Hermione. Oh shite...

Harry pulled out at once, but knew the damage was done. He could take his time... sort of.
"Lilith, clean me off, please."

"Yes, Master," she obeyed yet again, eagerly spinning about in his bed while he fumbled for
his wand and taking him in her mouth entirely like she had before, getting all of their
combined juices in one long, hard pull. "Thanks, Master, for the double-dose. I'll be there to
help out with your friend, but you won't see me unless you want me to reveal myself to her or
you. Just say that out loud if you do. Anything you want me to do to prove- well, things, to
her, just say it."

Then, without preamble, she faded from view, this time from him, as well.

Huh. I guess she really can be 'invisible'.

Harry hastily threw on the rest of his clothes and opened the curtains again. He was met with
Ron's sleepy face, an erection straining at his pyjamas. That, Harry was unfortunately used to,
and didn't want to comment on. "Whaz'goin'on? Her'mi'ne wuz...?"

Harry nodded, "I guess she came to get us for brunch. It's nearing ten. She, uh... saw
something."
Ron's eyes unabashedly moved down to Harry's crotch for a second, which he was
embarrassed to see was still slightly tented with a semi, before he smirked, "Heh, had to
happen sooner or later. Teach her to barge in, right? Come on, Mate. I'm gonna go eat. Let her
calm down, I say, then talk to her."

Harry nodded, but instead said, "Um, save me some. I'm gonna go try and find her."

"Suit yourself, it's your funeral," Ron shrugged as he sat up, then began to change. "Um... so
how did it go?"

Harry froze, then blushed.

Ron looked up, surprisingly alert for having just woken. "Well, huh? Who was it?"

"Er... no one you know," Harry muttered, looking away. He couldn't say it was Daphne. Aside
from having given his word (as he saw it, anyway), if Ron knew he'd lost his virginity to a
'snake'... and Lilith, for now, was right out. "But yes, it was amazing. And yes, I'm gonna
keep my end of the bargain."

Ron's eyes widened as his shirt fell to cover him. "R- Really? Bit keen, is she?"

Harry blushed again, "Er... well... the- the first one, no. The s- second one, maybe. I'm not
sure yet."

"Wow- two? At once?"

Harry shook his head quickly, "N- No. One didn't know about the other. I... look, I'll explain
it later, okay? After I've helped you out."

"I get it," Ron smirked, "Want to savor it. I got it. Brekkies it is, then. I'll see you... well,
either in the Common Room or the Library, right?"

Harry nodded. Depending on Hermione's mood, that's almost certainly where they would be.

"I'll try and bring you something if you're gonna miss it. No promises it'll make it intact."

"Thanks, Mate," Harry smiled, following his friend out of their dorm.

Two minutes after they entered the Common Room, a particular House Elf appeared in the
center of the room.

A moment later, both beds were made, the clothes were folded and cleaned, and the Elf
stopped, then gave a loud sniff. "About time, Harry Potter, Sir," before disappearing again.

Harry found Hermione not in the Common Area.

Nor, in fact, the Library.

Instead, he found her entering the Prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor. Sprinting forward, he
caught the door just as it shut on his fingers. "Ouch," he yelped, but did not withdraw his
hand.

A moment later, the door was jerked open.

There, blush growing rapidly and deeply, stood Hermione Granger. "Er- H- Harry. Sorry
about your hand. You aren't supposed to be in here, though..."

Without a verbal reply, Harry pushed his way past her, then shut the door over her protests.

"Hermione, we need to talk."

She shut her eyes, the blush deepening further, "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I should have
realized you put up the locking charm and the alarm on your door for a reason. I won't barge
in again."

Harry waited until she was done, then said, "Apology accepted," as calmly as he was able.

After several seconds, Hermione raised her head from where it had fallen and she opened one
eye, apparently unable to believe what she had just heard. "What?"

"Apology," he repeated slowly, "Accepted."

"Er... But I..."

"Caught me en flagrante delecto? Yes, you did. You apologized, I accepted. What's so hard to
believe? I like to think I'm a forgiving sort."

"Well, yes," a clearly flustered Hermione replied quickly, "maybe too forgiving, but that's
neither here nor there. I mean... It just... it never occurred to me that you might be... involved.
I hadn't heard anything, so I assumed..."

"Hermione," Harry said quietly, even as he felt what he suspected was the ghostly touch of
Lilith's tail on the small of his back, "For-giv-en. Can I explain, before you jump to more
conclusions that probably aren't any more accurate than the previous one?"

Slowly, she nodded, though she refused to look up at him. "Um... we should, er, sit down, I
suppose?"

Harry nodded, "Unless you need the loo. I can wait."

"Er, n- no," Hermione's blush returned, "I just saw you coming and..."

"Ah. Well... let's go, then. Like a plaster, right?"

With a forced giggle of her own which sounded very little like her normal light laugh,
Hermione lead the way over past the stalls and showers to the large bath, which sat empty at
the moment, then over to one of several benches that lined the outside.
After he had joined her, Harry stared up at the Mermaid briefly, wondering how anyone could
find the fish-tail attractive. Or regular, real Mer-people, for that matter.

"Um..."

Oh, right. "Sorry, I got distracted."

Hermione shot the offending stained glass a glare, making him snicker at her. "You don't have
to be offended at her," Harry said, pointing idly upward, "She doesn't interest me. Erm...
look, I'm not sure where to begin."

"How about, well, at the beginning?"

"Good idea," was Lilith's whisper into Harry's ear.

"R- Right. Well... I was looking for spells for the DA. And... I saw a- a circle. A summoning
circle. I skipped it at first, because I needed combat magic. But... well..."

Harry shuffled his feet, then moved his hands to hide his growing erection (because Lilith
was now nibbling on his ear for some reason), "I... I'm fifteen. A bloke. The Summoning was
for a- a Succubus."

Hermione gasped. "You didn't."

He nodded, "I did."

"A- And it- it worked?"

He nodded, "That's... who you saw. She goes by Lilith, but I don't think that's her real name,
since I assigned it to her, after..."

"The Hebrew Talmud, Adam's first wife, I think."

Harry nodded, "Something like that, I guess. I don't know. She said it was the progenitor of
her species."

Hermione frowned, but nodded, "Makes sense... probably a name of honor, or something."

"More than she knows," Lilith hissed into his ear, then started licking along the shell.

"A- Anyway. She... we formed a contract."

Again, Lilith whispered, "Capital-C Contract, Master."

"Er, a Contract," Harry corrected, though he didn't know if Hermione would notice the
difference, "for- for help against Voldemort, since that's what I really need. In return, she-
well, she gets... stuff."

"Please tell me," Hermione groaned, her own face falling into her hands much like his had
the previous night, "you didn't promise her your life or soul.."
"Er, no, actually," he explained, "I asked about that. She said they don't really do that
anymore. I mean, if I violate the contract, I, um, get taken to their plane and, uh, killed. But I
don't think I'll have a hard time fulfilling my end."

"What, then?" the witch asked softly, "What's the harlot demanding of you?"

"Succubus," Harry corrected automatically, without knowing how, "a Harlot is a human
prostitute, Lilith is a non-human creature. Anyway... she just wants semen. Lost of it, but the
Contract is, um, mostly for mine. Yeah."

Tell her the truth, Master, echoed, this time, directly into his mind.

"Mostly?"

Of course Hermione would catch that, Harry thought. "Er... yeah. Mostly. Apparently, as the
Contractor, my, um, s- seed, she uses personally to make herself stronger and to hold her
here. She also collects the, uh... leavings from other blokes. That she takes back home when
she goes, to... I don't know, rebuild their world. Create more of her kind. Both, maybe. I
didn't really follow that part."

Correct in essentials, Master, she thought toward him again.

"I don't suppose there's a way to cancel the contract?"

Harry thought for a moment. Had they discussed that?

He pondered for several seconds, until Lilith prompted mentally, Shall I reveal myself master,
and answer?

After another moment, Harry nodded. "Lilith, show yourself and answer, please."

She faded into view not curled around Harry like he had last felt her, dressed in a Hogwarts-
standard uniform, but one worn by a first year on the ride over, set to no House. She was
standing between them and the bath, hands behind her back as if she was giving a lecture.

Her tail waved behind her, of course, and the wings fluttered idly. "It's nice to meet you,
Miss," Lilith said sweetly.

Before she responded to the Succubus, Hermione turned one gimlet eye to Harry, "A little
girl?"

He turned bright red. "Erm..."

She sighed, "I... never mind. Later. You go by Lilith, then? I'm Hermione."

"Hi!" Lilith waved cheerfully, then returned to her 'lecture' posture. "Anyway, to answer your
question, no, the Contract cannot be canceled. It can only be either fulfilled or abrogated. If it
is abrogated, my Master will be taken to my home plane, where he will be extracted until his
death, in approximately five minutes. It will be torturous, despite any pleasure he may
experience in that brief time. If it is fulfilled, I go home happy, and he has enjoyed... well,
me, and all the benefits I bring, relatively free. It's a win-win for me and him."

"I don't see how it's remotely fair," Hermione said, "But as it seems to be in Harry's favor... I
guess I have to let it slide, no matter how much I dislike the idea. You are sworn to his safety,
yes?"

Lilith nodded, "Of course. For one, I added that to the Contract. For another, my stated
purpose here is to help him against 'the madman' no one likes to name. I can't do that if I kill
or hurt him, can I? He'd never trust me again, for one thing. And if I abrogate the Contract...
well, it's not explicitly stated, but let's just say that no Succubus has willingly done so in over
two millennia. It was not a pretty sight."

"Fine," Hermione muttered, finally looking up at Lilith to examine her properly, "Fine. I can
live with this. I think. You aren't going to go seducing other wizards, are you?"

"Well..." Harry was the one who responded. When Hermione glared sideways at him, he said,
"I'm horny all the time, Hermione. It's distracting. Part- part of what Lilith wants to do is help
me, um... relieve myself. With others."

For a moment, well, more like ten minutes, Harry thought that Hermione was going to hex
him. Or punch him.

He wasn't sure, after seeing her wallop Draco Malfoy in their third year, which would be
worse.

Instead, her glare vanished almost at once after a significant amount of time passed. "Fine.
Fine, I get it. Shag whoever you want. It's a free country, right? Just don't expect me to be one
of them. I don't like to share."

"Suit yourself," Lilith agreed at once. Harry shot her a glare, using a brief moment when
Hermione was not looking at him. She just winked back, and he heard her voice once again
in his mind, Trust me- she'll be worth the hunt, and it isn't going to be as hard as she'd like.

"Any other surprises for me?"

"W- Well... Ron..."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione groaned, throwing her hands into the air this time, "Now what?"

"He... well, he gave me an alibi last night while I summoned Lilith. And... he asked for help
setting up a... meeting. Not with her, but... someone."

Her voice was quick to return, just one single, ice-cold word, "Who?"

Left unsaid, perhaps, was the rest of the sentence, "do I have to kill?"

"Er, no one- in particular," Harry muttered, knowing that would be even worse.
"Fine," Hermione growled, the voice sounding more demonic, if you asked him, than
anything Lilith had said, "Fine. I get it. He's a boy, so he can screw around and get plaudits. If
I sleep around, I'm a whore. I get it."

"No, Hermione," Harry said placatingly, "That's not what I meant. I'm-"

Whatever he was going to say fell silent as Hermione's hand withdrew her wand. "Finish that
sentence, Harry Potter, I dare you."

Before he could say another word, Lilith's hand was covering the tip of the wand, which,
fortunately, had never quite been aimed in Harry's direction. "I'll thank you not to attack your
own best friend, Hermione," Lilith said calmly, "and no one said you were a whore. No one
said the witch my Master shagged last night was a whore, either. She was quite nice, actually,
a credit to her House. My Master is looking for sex, yes. He's not looking to abuse people or
mistreat them in any way. He is not that kind of person. And if you think so little of him...
perhaps I should ask him to remove you from his very short list of preferred people."

Harry had not moved one whit, aside from shallow, hopefully unnoticed breathing, the entire
time Hermione's wand was drawn.

But when Lilith finished speaking, he worried her defensive abilities- and perhaps the
shielding Rune- would be called into effect sooner than either had thought.

Instead, Mount Hermione settled.

"You're right. He didn't say that. I assumed. That doesn't mean I was wrong about people in
general."

"No, you weren't," Lilith agreed, "but you know what? Those people? Fuck 'em."

Harry snorted. He couldn't help himself.

Hermione shot the short Succubus a glare, "You used that phrase on purpose to distract me."

"Yes, I did," Lilith smiled, "And it worked. Listen, there's no need for wands, here. Let's talk
like the adults you both want to be and that I am. And before you argue like my Master did,
yes, I am an adult by our standards, I only took this form to appeal to my Master."

Again, Hermione shot him a gimlet eye, but he could only shrug. "I..."

"Fine," she said yet again, stowing her wand, "But I reserve the right to start hexing again if
things get heated."

"Fair enough," Lilith smiled, then settled herself cross-legged on the floor. It did not escape
Harry's notice that he could see all the way up into her robes, where she was not wearing
knickers, but that the view was hidden from Hermione by her position. "So, where I come
from, sex is basically free. Everyone enjoys it, it can't hurt anyone- we don't feel jealousy. In
fact, it was only a few hundred years ago that we understood it as an abstract concept. Even
now it's weird for us to imagine. We have 'marriages' of a sort, convenience and friendship
and all, but mostly we have sex with whoever we want to, whenever and wherever. That's just
how we are. Succubi. With me?"

Hermione nodded, "That part seems obvious enough."

"So, if my Master ordered me to have sex with you, I would. If he got jealous, I wouldn't
really get why. I could fake it, sure. But I wouldn't feel it. So as far as that emotion goes, I'm
afraid my Master will have to help you with that on his own. It's beyond my ken. The other
thing... well...

"Truth is," she continued, looking between them, "I'm new to this. Like I said last night, it's
my first Summoning. I'm hardly virginal, and I wasn't last night, but I'd never been with a
Human. And Harry's pretty good for a newbie himself- he was a virgin until the blonde girl,
then me. And yes, in that order, because it's illegal for us to take a virgin human. We consider
it unfair to humanity to steal them too young to understand. As Harry performed the ritual
himself and is nearly your own world's legal age, I was able to make do with getting him a
quick shag first, then letting him have me, instead. Still with me?"

"Yes," Hermione growled out, but didn't do more than just send a quick glare in both their
directions.

"Anyway, I'm no expert, but I'd hazard a guess based on my observations that my Master has
no living family aside from the people he calls his 'relatives', with no endearment whatsoever.
I'd also guess that he grew up starved for affection, and until last night, had all the sexual
experience of a blade of grass. Maybe less than some."

Harry blushed as Hermione looked over at him, this time wide-eyed, as if she truly had not
considered that aspect of his motivations.

"As such," Lilith continued after taking a breath, "he equates lust and love- also, teenage boy-
very much. It's totally understandable. Right?"

"I- I suppose," Hermione admitted.

"Therefore, it's also understandable that he, starved for it as he is, wants as much 'love' as he
can get. Yes?"

Hermione nodded once.

"That's why the help with getting shagged. Look, I get your beliefs. I do. We have entire
classes while we're maturing on what humans believe about sex, religion, and so on. And I'm
not saying any of it is wrong or right. That's not my place. I'd hazard a guess you're raised
Judeo-Christian or Christian, right?"

Hermione nodded again, "C of E."

"Not surprising," Lilith nodded, "Also, second most sexually corrupt religion on the planet,
for the record, beaten only by Catholicism. This 'sexual corruption'[, for the record, is by each
religion's own standards, and I'm not making any political statement about any religion, or
anything like that. All I'm saying is that your beliefs were instilled from a young age, and
may or may not actually be accurate. You ultimately have to decide for yourself what you
believe, and I will never, ever, not even if ordered by my Master, tell you what to believe. It's
not my place, and it's not his, either. But by that same token, you have no right to tell him or
me what to believe. Are we agreed on that?"

Reluctantly, Hermione muttered a quick, "Yes..."

"Alright, then. That makes things easier. Let me be up front. My Master does want to shag
you, very badly. Right now, and often after that. But he's showing great restraint, out of
respect for you. Look between his legs."

Harry groaned, but Hermione did as Lilith had said.

Her blush was immediate, and she quickly jerked her eyes away.

"Not helping, Lilith," Harry muttered.

"On the contrary, Master," she said, raising a finger briefly, "I think it is. You see how
aroused he is, yet he makes no motion toward you. He respects you a very great deal. Sure, he
wants you physically, but he also has more affection for you than anyone else on this planet,
including his 'best mate', the Ginger, if only because he has no desire to have sex with the
boy. Or see him naked. And so on."

"I get it," Hermione grumbled, "I get it. I just... it's a lot to take in, you know?"

"Sure," Lilith shrugged casually, "So, I won't ask that we be friends. I get your feelings, aside
from the jealousy, but can I at least get an admission that we're on the same side? We both
want my Master to survive while 'the madman' dies and stays dead?"

This time, Hermione did not hesitate to agree.

"Good. Then, out of respect for my Master, please do knock next time- firmly if we don't
respond- because I have the feeling I won't be the only one in his bed when he wakes up for
too much longer. Or at least, not the one there. I personally don't care if you see us fucking
like bunnies, but the other girls might. And as for that Ron bloke... if you want him to take
your virginity, you should do it soon. Because otherwise, I'm betting money, right now, on
my Master being the one."

Hermione blushed bright red yet again, and immediately started to stammer protestations.

"Suit yourself," Lilith shrugged as she fluttered her way to her feet, then reached out to tug
Harry upright, "Now, if you don't mind giving us some privacy, I need to suck my Master off
so he can walk around the halls without a tent attracting attention, and go get himself some
lunch."

If Harry had thought Hermione had left his bedroom in a hurry, it was nothing compared to
how fast she fled the Prefect's Bathroom.
She still had to have heard the moan of pleasure as Lilith began blowing him right there on
the bench.

Thankfully, he'd made it through lunch with Ron sitting beside him and an invisible Lilith
below the table teasing his cock with her tail- she refused to do more, and he didn't want to
verbalize a command to do so just then given the number of witnesses- and the two had gone
for a stroll to give Hermione more time to think about things.

They were on the far side of the lake, mostly hidden from the castle, when Ron asked, "So...
how did she take it?"

"Er..."

"Seeing you wank, of course," Ron said, unashamed as usual.

"Oh, she didn't see me wank," Harry replied before thinking about it, "She saw me shagging-
"

Then he caught himself. Shit.

"You had a girl in your bed?" Ron asked with wide eyes, not bothering to keep quiet.

"Sssh!" Harry hissed, glancing around quickly. It appeared no one had heard, however, for
the nearest two were a pair of Hufflepuff girls- Harry thought it might have been Hannah
Abbot and Susan Bones from their year- on the far side of the lake, moving the same
direction they were.

"How'd you get her out without me seeing?"

Harry's eyes rolled, "You know I said it was for a Ritual, right? A s- sex-related one?"

Ron nodded eagerly.

He's like Parvati and Lavender with gossip, I swear! "Well... It worked. I summoned a
Succubus."

"No way," Ron cried out, then quickly covered his own mouth, "R- Really? Is she hot?"

Knowing Lilith was going to hear anyway, Harry murmured, "I think so."

"Wizard. Are- are you gonna hold up to it, then? I get to shag her, too, right?"

Harry swallowed, looked around again, then pulled Ron off into the trees at the edge of the
Forest. Fortunately, the area around the lake was generally safer than even that by Hagrid's
cabin, given the Mer-people and the Giant Squid occasionally hunting for the bigger game
there. "Maybe," he demurred, "but I think first she- er, I'd, like you to get some experience.
So you can show her a good time, right?"
Ron thought for a moment, then nodded, a grin widening across his face. "So... one problem,"
he said after a moment, "Who'd want to go for me? I'm just the freckly best friend,
remember?"

"I can find someone," Harry said quickly, "In fact, I already have an idea." Since apparently
Hermione might want to...?

"No, Master," Lilith said, loud enough for only Harry to hear, "I can find someone else for
him first. You want her virginity, I'll get it for you if I can. Though it is her choice if she goes
to him first. If you can stall him for a few minutes, I will check the castle for someone
focused on him."

"Well, we can safely rule out Slytherins," Harry said with a chuckle, hoping both Ron and
Lilith heard it.

"Right, wouldn't want to shag a snake," Ron scowled darkly, then continued to pontificate on
how all of them were treacherous and evil, even while Harry's mind was drawn back to the
previous night.

A few minutes later, Lilith's voice whispered once more, "I have a few prospects. One Luna
Lovegood, a year younger, used to have a crush on him. It's faded, but she still thinks he is
very good looking. The blonde girl in your House, Lavender, wants both of you. She's still a
virgin, by the way, but has sworn a 'sister-pact' to take care of that problem by the end of the
next school year come hell or high water, with the Hindi girl she's friends with. That one is
right out for Ron, but maybe is forgiving for you. Maybe. A girl named Fay in their dorm is
also eyeing him, but has no significant interest. In the other Tower there's a girl named Eloise
Midgen that thinks highly of him, but she's the only one. Down by the kitchens there's a
couple, including that red-head across the lake. The blonde with her wouldn't mind a fling
with you, but is hung up on your friend Neville, who is also hung up on her. Your choice if
you want to step into that."

Harry shook his head, glad Ron was still waxing poetic about how much he despised
Slytherin House.

"The other Hufflepuff, Zara Valli, is a year younger, too. Cute girl, though. Oh, I missed a girl
in your house- a year up, actually. Alicia... Spinnet, I believe."

"Alicia? Huh."

Ron stopped walking. "Spinnet? Alicia Spinnet? What about her?"

"Well," Harry blushed, having not intended to say that out loud, and definitely not that way,
took a second to collect himself before saying, "Well, apparently, she'd like to be the one. To
shag you, I mean."

"Huh. Never really thought about it... I mean, I know the twins are both after Angelina, and
Katie's dating... Actually, I don't know if she's dating. Still, I... I s'pose that wouldn't be too
bad. She's cute, yeah?"
Harry nodded. He, too, had fantasized more than once about each of the three Gryffindor
Chasers, though less so, lately.

"Not sure she's interested in going out with you, mind," Harry said, "but I h- heard she'd like
a shag. Might need to keep it quiet, after. Don't kiss and tell, right?"

"Right, right," Ron said, clearly distracted while thinking about it.

It was hard not to notice when his robes started jutting out in front.

They were almost all the way around the lake, the two Hufflepuff girls the only ones still out
as a mist and drizzle had started to settle in, and they were nearing the Castle's gates, when
Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him to a stop.

"Harry... I can't. I can't do it."

"Of course you can," Harry rolled his eyes, "It's easy."

"No I can't," Ron hissed, "You saw what I was like last year. I'm terrible with witches! I'll
screw something up... I know I will!"

"No, you won't," Harry said, "because I'm going to help you. Give you some pointers, yeah?"

Ron's eyes rolled, "You just lost your own last night, don't tell me you're a master already.
Pull the other one, Harry."

"He's not," Lilith's voice said audibly, making Ron jump, "but I am. And I'll help if he wants
me to."

Only she did not look like she had when Harry had last seen her.

She was both clothed (he had seen her that way, but not fully), and... older-looking.

Not voluptuous, but more developed than he was used to, about six inches taller, and wearing
high heels instead of bare feet.

Her wings and tail were invisible, only the point of one horn- as usual, her right- was visible
to mark her non-human status.

"Er... you're- you're h-her," Ron stammered, nearly motionless, but already blushing.

Because while Lilith was clothed, it was just barely what could be called a bikini in the
muggle world, and was probably closer to a thong and micro-bikini.

"I am," she smiled invitingly, "call me Lilith. So... can you relax enough to listen, or will I
have to help you later, putting off you getting laid tonight?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Ron gulped, then visibly shook his shoulders, "I- I can r-relax. Damn,
you are hot."
"I know," she smirked, "Anyway, I can see the castle, so they can see me. Come around the
bend, back here a bit."

Ron hesitated. Surely if his mother knew he or Harry were consorting with a Succubus...

But she was right there!

Harry following without such hesitation convinced him, however, and he joined them a
moment later.

"So," she said quickly, turning around even as her scant clothing vanished, making Ron
stammer. "This is what a girl looks like. It's pretty close to what your buddy will look like, I
mirrored her form a bit. She's not shaved, but I am. You'll have to find these parts through her
hair."

Ron nodded dumbly.

What followed was a crash course on feminine anatomy, one that Harry, too, paid rapt
attention to (after all, she had promised to help turn him into a skilled or even masterful
lover), followed by another course on using that anatomy to pleasure females.

"Anyway, so that's that," Lilith said, brushing her hands even as a full Hogwarts uniform
materialized over her form, "any questions?"

Ron immediately shot his hand into the air at a speed that would make Hermione jealous.

"Yes?"

"Um... can I? With you? Like, now?"

"No," Lilith and Harry said at the same time, making Ron groan in frustration.

"A compromise, Master?" Lilith asked, looking over at Harry.

"What compromise...?"

She contacted him telepathically once more, A quick hand-job to take the edge off- more for
my world, after all-and then we tell him he only has to wait until tonight, when Miss Spinnet
is going to be hunting for a broom closet anyway?

Harry balked for a moment- he didn't want to see that- but nodded.

To Ron, though, he said, quite firmly, "She's gonna help you out. You don't get to do anything
to her she isn't doing to you. Hands off. Tonight, I have it on good authority Alicia will
actually be looking for a romp. It'll be both your lucky day. Er, night."

Without another moment's hesitation, Ron reached into his trousers and freed his own
member.

Harry made himself look long enough for a comparison, then turned away.
Ron was a little longer, but not nearly as wide. Still, judging by what Lilith thought of his,
Harry's, length, that was saying something.

"Good boy," he heard Lilith coo, then the soft squish as her knees sank into the sodden loam
at the edge of the trail.

"Blimey," he heard Ron say.

A moan.

Another.

Just a minute and a half in, Ron gave another loud groan, and Harry heard the distinct thwap
of multiple shots hitting Lilith's chest.

He turned, then, to see her chest bared, covered in thick white. Ron, apparently, had been
very pent up.

Both boys watched, mesmerized, as Lilith scooped up a bit in two fingers, tasted it, grimaced
slightly, then let the rest absorb through her skin.

"You should be aware, Ron," Lilith said as the top of her outfit reappeared, "human girls can't
do that. Make sure she's on the potion, or no sex. Even if she's willing, and even if you pull
out it's not guaranteed. Potion or no sex. Period. At least, if you want a chance at having me
later. Deal?"

Woodenly, he nodded a moment before collapsing backward in a heap. "That was... brilliant."

"You should try her blowjobs," Harry muttered, glad Ron's hearing wasn't the best.

Whenever you want, Master.

Harry and Ron did not see Hermione for the rest of the day.

Nor, in fact, did they see Alicia, though Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson were doing
homework while flirting with Fred and George Weasley, Ron's older brothers.

But at ten-fifteen, when only they and a couple older students- two boys and one girl that
Harry didn't know, each of whom were talking quietly in a corner, her hand on both of their
legs- that Lilith whispered to them both, again making Ron jump, "She's coming downstairs,
and looking for a shag. Ron, you go find a broom cupboard. I'll send her your way."

He was out the portrait hole in a flash.

"And you, Master," she whispered after he was gone, "Are going to experience a mortal girl's
mouth. Follow me."

Once again, she was tugging on his penis, fortunately moving at a more sedate pace. She
passed one closet, then another, and then a third, before stopping at the fourth, quite close to
where he knew the Ravenclaw tower entrance was.

"Um, why not the others?" he asked quietly.

"Ron's in the third, the second is occupied by two girls, and the first is filthy. Also, I suspect
Hermione will be checking the ones near the Common Room when she can't find either of
you to talk."

"Oh."

"Now, Master, please stay here... I'll return momentarily with your subject. Keep the lights
out- I have a surprise planned for you both."

Ten minutes later, the door clicked open, then shut.

Only there was someone else in the closet, breathing.

"You a boy?"

The voice was familiar, but whoever it was was hiding their actual voice somehow, probably
with a spell.

He grunted.

"Good. Keep the lights out, and I'll- I'll do what I promised."

Harry grunted again, confused. He didn't know who this person, presumably a girl, was. How
could he have made some sort of promise for favors?

A moment later, he felt fingers, small ones, on his fly, then his button.

A warm breath.

Fingers on him, pulling his rapidly hardening length out, then his trousers down.

"Bigger than I thought," the voice said.

This time, Harry said nothing, only relaxed back against the wall as soft lips began to pepper
him with kisses.

They started at the base, worked up to the top, stayed there on the head for a minute, then
slowly circled around all of him back down to the bottom. A moment after, he felt the same
tongue that had been ghosting along him begin to lick his scrotum. "Smelly... tasty."

"Fuck," Harry groaned, trying to modulate his own voice to hide it, because he didn't know a
spell to mask it.

Whoever it was continued to lick his balls while a hand stroked up and down his shaft,
occasionally switching with the other hand, while the girl began to breathe heavier.
The very dim light from beneath the door suggested she was on her knees with the other hand
between her legs.

And it was hot as hell.

Instinctively, his hand fell on her head.

A moment later, she jerked off him completely, "Hands off," the modulated voice said, "or
I'm done. No light, no touching, that was the deal. I don't know who you are, and you don't
know who I am. Period."

"S- Sorry," Harry groaned.

A few seconds passed, before the hand wrapped around his base and angled him down. A
second later, lips covered his head, then a bit further as a tongue, thick and soaking, began to
circle his head. That only lasted a few seconds, though, before the girl began to bob.

She was nowhere near as good as Lilith, but Harry knew he still wasn't going to last long,
because it was a hundred, no, a thousand times better than wanking.

With a soft gagging sound, the girl tried to deep-throat Harry, but pulled back at once,
coughed, then sank down again. She did not try to go further than she had been before.
Instead, her pace quickened, while the hand around his base began to move in time, jerking
him even as she sucked.

"Close," Harry grunted.

"Mmhmm," was the modulated reply.

"R- Really close," he warned a few seconds later, his knees starting to shake.

"Mmhaym."

Well, I tried, Harry thought, a moment before his jizz coated the inside of her mouth and
throat.

To the girl's credit, she did not pull off or away, instead laving him clean without removing
him from her mouth, then swallowed, and sucked on him until, with a slight pop, he fell out
of her mouth.

The girl stood up, adjusted her skirt as far as he could tell in the very dim light, then leaned in
to press a kiss against him.

At first, Harry recoiled at the smell, but the girl still thrust her tongue into his mouth, forcing
him to taste himself a bit. The only real benefit, as far as he saw, was the feel of her pressed
against him briefly.

"Not bad," she muttered, modulation still in effect, "I'd rate you an eight, to be honest.
Highest I've rated anyone. Leave a note in the same place if you want a repeat."
"Er..."

Then she was gone, just as quickly and quietly as she'd come.

When Harry had tucked himself away and stepped back outside, Lilith was leaning against
the wall opposite. "How was she?"

"Not- not bad," panted Harry, "not as good as you, but..."

"They never are. Not at first, anyway."

"Who...?"

"Uh, uh, Master. Not unless you order me to, and that's not fair. You enjoyed it, right? I'll say
it was a female, and not a Gryffindor, and relatively close to your own age. After that, no
more info. Figure it out yourself."

"Alright," he faux-grumbled. It wasn't like he minded, a blow-job was a blow-job as far as he

was concerned, and whoever it was had been pretty good in his inexperienced opinion.
"How's Ron doing?"

"Round one lasted about a minute... round three is going on now, but almost done."

"Three?"

She nodded, "Yeah. He's a horny one, I'll give him that. Not nearly as much as you, but
probably... top five in the Castle as far as males go. This will be his last, though, he's nearly
spent, and she's half unconscious."

"What?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, he was paying attention to my lesson," Lilith smirked as she fell into step beside him,
"and I did give her some Fog on the way down. And yes, she was already looking to get
shagged. And I Fogged him and her both after round one, to help him get back up. It's
wearing off, which is how I know they're almost done."

Harry heard just one word, "F- Fuuuuck," from a masculine voice as they passed the next
closet, and that was it.

Payment made.

From the sound of it, Alicia had been shagging for a while anyway, and therefore was of less
interest anyway. Not none, but less.

"Oi, Potter," Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, called from the couch as he passed on his
way back upstairs, "passing on a warning: Hermione's pissed. She thinks she knows where
you went, whatever that means. And now I'm going to bed."
After the slight fire-haired girl had slipped up into the girl's stairs, Lilith whispered, "More
like going to shag her wand for a few hours thinking about you. She's got it about the worst...
Almost a nymphomaniac, that one."

Harry's cock throbbed.

"Don't worry," Lilith patted him, "I'll satisfy you for now, and yes, she's on my list, too. Hell,
I want her. But have some patience, I know what I'm doing."

As they started to climb, this time with her in front so Harry could watch her pert arse (and,
coincidentally, so her tail could lazily stroke his chest), he asked, "What are you doing?
What's your goal with all this- well, with this particular order, or whatever, you seem to have
worked out?"

"Simple," Lilith shrugged, "There are girls you want to shag, and girls you want to keep
shagging. For the former, they get to be first- with the possible exception of your dear
Slytherin- to get you the experience and skills you will need to keep shagging those that come
later, despite them knowing you're shagging other girls. Human Jealousy 2350. Part of the
Psych course I aced."

Harry stumbled. "O- Oh."

"There's more to it of course, and almost unlimited variables. Hermione is on the 'keep' list,
for example, but I really don't think it'll be that hard to convince her to share, so she might
end up being a 'soon'. Others... we'll see."

When they reached his room, Lilith briefly touched a hand to Neville's, Seamus', and Dean's
foreheads before turning back to Harry. "They'll sleep through the night, dreaming of the girls
they most fancy. Now, shall we fuck?"

"Er... isn't Ron coming?"

"Probably, right about now," Lilith smirked, "but if he comes in... so what? He knows what I
am. I doubt he'll judge."

Harry still closed the door as he lay on his back, and Lilith climbed atop him to straddle him
like she'd woken him after that first glorious blow-job. Only this time, while she did slide up
and down his length a few times to lubricate him, she half-rose, aimed, and then dropped
down with him inside her.

She rode him like that, with Harry just watching her tits and hair bounce with his hands
behind his head, for several minutes until Ron came in.

Then Harry realized that somehow, without him noticing, Lilith had opened the curtains, and
Ron was staring at them.

"S-"

He had started to say sorry.

But Ron was not angry, or annoyed.

In fact, he seemed rapt.

Lilith looked over at the ginger, winked, and continued her bouncing. "I think he likes it,
Master."

Harry nodded slowly, then watched out of the corner of his eye as Ron removed a half-flaccid
penis and started to stroke it, utterly unashamed. "Best. Night. Ever," he said.

Harry could not blame him, but at the time also didn't have the heart to close the curtains
again. The damage, after all, was done, and it was just a profile, right?

"Play with her ta-tas, Harry," Ron urged from across the room.

Annoyed for a brief moment that his friend was still intruding on this moment, Harry quickly
pushed that part aside- it was an excellent idea, after all.

So his hands rose, one gentle and caressing, sliding around the nipple, while the other worked
with more force, kneading and pulling and stretching.

"Shit," Lilith murmured, and her bouncing increased in speed.

A few minutes later, she shuddered, and Harry felt himself become drenched, though her up-
and-down motion did not change.

A moment later, Ron's jizz arced across the room, flying against Lilith's right wing and back,
quickly becoming absorbed.

Then Harry, too, exploded into her with more force than he could recall, his thrusts becoming
spasmodic and uncontrolled when Lilith collapsed onto his chest.

"F- Fuck," she murmured, "First time I came first... ever. Morrigan..." She continued to pant
while Ron stared dumbfounded at the nude, nubile body on top of Harry.

After a few minutes, he said, "Bit young, eh, Mate?"

"It's the same Lilith, Ron," Harry growled, "Now go to bed."

"Right... classes tomorrow. Night."

Harry, too, drifted off with Lilith atop him, and him still inside her, though he noticed she did,
at least, close the curtains.
 Quizzical Conquests
Chapter Summary

While Harry and Ron begin to increase the circle of places they can sow their oats,
Hermione is growing increasingly fed up with their behavior- and the enemy makes their
first move.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 3: Quizzical Conquests

Harry might have hoped for a morning shag, but Lilith was nowhere to be found when he
woke up on Monday. Ron was still snoring away, but the others were stirring.

"Ah well," he muttered to himself, "Maybe I imagined it."

You didn't, Master, his servant's voice immediately sounded in his head, And good morning.
I'm sorry, I'm just a little busy... I'll definitely help you out later, if that's alright. Of course, if
you order me...

No, that's alright, Harry thought firmly, but he had no idea if that would or did work.
Something to ask the Succubus when he next saw her, at least.

Instead, stowing his morning wood away, Harry rose and started getting ready for a shower
before classes.

He needed one- even he could tell he smelled of 'boy'.

Unfortunately, his first class was History of Magic.

At least he finally got mostly caught up for the lack of sleep two nights ago.

Well, both nights, really, but one History class wouldn't make up for that.

Even worse, the next class was Double Potions. With Slytherin.

Which meant... Oh, shit.

Daphne Greengrass was in his year, and in Slytherin.

Even if that was about all he knew about her (aside from apparently wanting to shag him),
this would be... awkward, to say the least.

What did you say to someone you'd- arranged or not- watched masturbate while calling your
name, shagged on a table in a public library (even if it was at night and they were alone), and
then eaten out to finish her off?

Not to mention the whole Succubus thing.

But as he followed a quiet Hermione and a still sleepy Ron into the Potions classroom, Harry
was distracted from that thought by the presence of Umbridge.

She had already inspected Snape, hadn't she?

But she was still sitting in the back of the room, just as she had that first day, though this time
she questioned no one.

Still, Snape seemed to be in even a more foul mood than normal, for he did nothing but glare
at Harry and his friends aside from wave his wand at the blackboard and say, "Begin."

Of course, that was a marked improvement.

Even Draco, it seemed, was put off by Umbridge's presence, for he, too, did nothing but
occasionally glance scornfully at Harry. Perhaps he was on his best behavior?

But the one person he was really watching...

Appeared to take no more notice of him than normal.

She was, as usual, partnered with the Davis girl, who he suspected was her only real friend at
the school.

But Daphne did not look in his direction even once.

That was normal, though, as far as Harry could recall.

Indeed, the only abnormal things aside from Snape and Draco (and therefore the rest of the
Slytherins) being on their best behavior was the presence of Umbridge, who merely watched,
and wrote in her little notebook. She didn't even say, "Hem, hem," once.

It was weird.
Then Divination after lunch, and still there was no sign of Lilith.

At least Ron got another nap in, while Harry ignored the Centaur teacher in favor of thinking
about girls he wanted to shag first. Yes, he was thinking about it the way Lilith seemed to
want him to- shag once or twice, then done- as his 'first goes'.

The list in this room was surprisingly long, and he mulled it over (while imagining said
scenarios) for the majority of the class.

In fact, Harry did not even notice Firenze murmur that, at last, he had learned to see the stars
as they really were.

Even if Seamus, a table away, claimed he'd learned to sleep with his eyes open.

And Defense, Harry's new least-favorite class, even over Snape's Potions?

Umbridge didn't show up.

For the entire class.

On the board, in her wand-writing, were just a few words: "Chapter thirty-two. Read quietly.
You are being watched."

An hour and a half of reading, while probably not being watched closely, surrounded by
Ravenclaws, at least.

They would read if only because the books were there.

Harry frowned, opened his book, and fell promptly asleep.

He woke a while later from a nudge. Ron and Hermione were both standing over him, and
the room was otherwise empty. "You coming, Mate?" Ron said, probably for the second time
judging by their worried expresssions, "Not like you to want to hang around Umbridge's
class."

Harry closed his book and gathered it into his back quite quickly.

Fortunately, they did not see her at all.

Perhaps she was inspecting another class?

Of course, after that was dinner, for which Ron and Harry were both grateful. He was, for
some reason, famished.

"It's all the calories you're no doubt expending with your new shag-buddy," Hermione
explained in a low, displeased tone when Ron commented on Harry's sudden eating habits.

"It's not- not that much," Harry denied.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "It's still more exercise than you're used to, hence more caloric
intake. And don't talk with your mouth full, please."

Harry blushed, but swallowed. "Sorry."

After a few minutes of tense silence, Hermione said quietly, "I have to- I have to apologize to
you both. I've been a bitter hag, and I'm sorry. It's just... I... never mind."

Harry nodded, "We'll talk after the DA? Just the three of us?"

Hermione thought for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose we should. All three of us- and
prefferrably not your new friend."

"Okay," Harry shrugged, "I actually haven't seen her since last night. Not sure where she's off
to."

"No doubt shagging some-"

"Hermione," Harry growled, "Not fair, not true. She actually can't unless I tell her she can. It's
in the Contract. Think about that. Think about what she is, and how much she probably needs
that, and then think about the fact that she can only get 'that' if she asks me and I say yes, or I
tell her to."

Hermione said nothing for the remainder of the meal, and stood slightly apart from Harry
during the entire DA session.

While Cho had hung back, yet again, probably in another attempt to talk about Cedric (or,
worse, ask him for another go at going out), several glares and huffs from both of his best
friends had caused the girl to leave after the 'study group' had broken up. The members of the
DA weren't terribly concerned about being caught by Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad
any longer. As long as no one actually broke the door down- and how could they? It wasn't
there, most of the time.

He was, overall, quite pleased with the progress the members of the DA were making. Most
of their Protego shields would last against five or six of his best offensive spells, now. Not
long in a pitched battle, true, but something.

Still, when the room shifted to accommodate a cozy chat between friends, complete with
three armchairs, a tea set (steaming hot, he noticed), and a burning fireplace nearby, he had
not heard from Lilith aside from that one mental communication in the morning.

"So," Hermione began after taking a sip of her tea, "again, I have to apologize for this
morning, and yesterday, and again at lunch, Harry- and Lilith, if you can hear. That was...
rude, and uncalled-for."

Harry nodded, "Well, I accept, for my part. I kind of understand where you're coming from, I
think."

Ron nodded, "Me, too. Hey, I can have feelings!"

Both of the others shared 'a look' at their best friend's expense while he scowled, then started
laughing.

"But no, really," Ron said after a minute, voice low and soft, "I get it. Jealousy. You guys
both know- know I struggle with it. I can see it in you, Hermione. I'm not judging- bloody
hell, who am I to judge people for that? But you have to solve that problem yourself. We can't
really help you with it, because we aren't you. At least, that's what Dad said when he had a
talk with me about it this summer. Basically just said that I had to learn to deal with it, accept
it, and move on. Er, accept that things are different between me and other people, and move
on."

"Your Dad's a smart guy," Harry said. "You guys know I'd give anything for you. But I can't
give you my whole vault, because you don't want charity, either. It's hard for me, too."

Ron nodded, "But at least I don't have to be jealous about... well, this. Not really. I mean, I
wouldn't have had the sheer stones to make that deal, so Harry's the one that earned... well,
her, I guess."

"Language, Ronald," Hermione said half-heartedly, her eyes locked on the fire.

A minute or two later, she said quietly, "It's just... a bit unfair. I mean, I want to shag, too. I
think everyone does. But if I do, I get called... well, you know what. Even if I was- was in a
relationship, you know people would talk. Especially if it was with one of you."

"Sure," Ron beat Harry to the punch, "People would talk. So what? They already talk.
Lavender and Parvati heard just last week that you were shagging both of us on the side. I
told 'em it was shite, and they said they both knew, it was just gossip. And if those two don't
think you'd do something like that..."

"But I would," Hermione protested, "That's the problem! It's not like I haven't thought about
it! Witches think about s- sex quite as often as wizards, thank you! It's just a double-
standard!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You'd shag us both on the side?"

She turned scarlet immediately, head falling into her hands.

A few minutes later, she nodded once, just once.

Both Harry's and Ron's jaws dropped as they shared a glance of shock.

Hermione's head stayed down as she tried to explain through what sounded like quiet sobs,
"I'm not a- a 'scarlet woman'. I'm not. I'm just in love with two different people. Just two. No
one else. But if I choose, I lose the other, and I can't..."

"Then don't, Hermione," Harry said, just as quietly as she was speaking, if a bit more steadily,
"Don't choose one. Choose either or neither. I mean... to be honest, I'm not 'in love with you',
I think. But I do love you. You're my best friend, really smart, amazing and awesome. And
sure, I'd totally shag you now that I know for sure you want me to. But I wouldn't hurt you. I
don't think Ron would, at least not on purpose, either."

"Damn straight, and woe to anyone that tried," Ron agreed vehemently, "Even Harrykins."

"Can... can I have some time?"

"Sure," Harry said at once, "Take as long as you need. For my part, Hermione, I think my
offer will always be open. If and when you want me, I'm yours. Whether it's a 'relationship'
like Skeeter thought, or just a shag when you're in the mood, I'm game. I'd hope to have no
jealousy if or when that ended, either. I don't own you."

"M- Me, too," Ron said after a minute, actually rising from his own seat to give Hermione an
awkward pat on the shoulder, "If and when, or not. I mean... I never even thought about you
like that until about a year ago, but..."

No one needed reminding about the disastrous Yule Ball.

She hiccupped, but said nothing except, "Th- thanks. I'll be alright... I just- just need a few
minutes to clean up."

Harry and Ron shared another look, then left the room together, leaving the Marauder's Map
and his Invisibility Cloak there for her to use.

Fortunately, they made it back to the Common Room without being spotted, as it was a bit
past curfew.

The only person who seemed to notice was Alicia Spinnet, who gave Ron a wink, one which
he returned, blushing brightly.

"Guess you impressed her, Mate," Harry whispered in his friend's ear, then sent him off to
talk to the Chaser, who had been speaking to her friends.

Harry, for his part, went up to his dorm and, using the quiet, began working on homework.

Eventually, he drifted off.

Tuesday passed a bit more calmly, with no emotional scenes between Harry and his friends
upsetting things, but again, there was no sign of Lilith. Instead, all through Charms and then
Transfiguration, both double periods, he grew increasingly worried. Didn't she need daily
'feeding'? It had been two days!

He was distracted briefly during Double Care of Magical Creatures (again with the
Slytherins), when Hagrid, still cowed, no doubt, by Umbridge's now-silent presence (she
inspected nearly every class he had), finished his own discussion on the relatively tame
Cornish Pixies they'd 'tried' to cover in DADA three years earlier. Herbology, too, passed
without incident.
Until he tried to leave.

"Hem, Hem."

Harry froze, just four paces outside the door and at the back of a pack of students.

"Mr. Potter," Umbridge's sickly-sweet voice called out from just to his right, "A moment of
your time, if you please. Run along, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter will be along
shortly, after we have a... chat."

With a worried glance in his direction, both of his friends obeyed, leaving Harry on his own.

His skin crawled as she gripped his arm in a tight grip, pulling him around the greenhouses
and out of sight of the school.

"What do you want?" he growled. 'Professor' or not, he'd had just about enough of 'keeping
his head down'.

"Just you, Mr. Potter," Umbridge sighed as her form melted away, revealing the much smaller
form of Lilith. "And Xinivrae, to never have to mind-dive that horrid woman again! You
realize she actually... never mind. I don't want to scar you. Just... eww."

"Er... what?"

Lilith snorted, "Witty, Master, as always. Anyway, I've just spent the better part of two days
working on a solution to your 'High Inquisitor' problem. I've got one, but it'll take some time
to implement. In the meantime, I can run some low-key interference, help you out a little. It'll
take most of my days, though."

"And what plan is that?"

She sighed, cuddling up against him forcefully enough to push him against the greenhouse,
even as her hand snaked into his trousers, "Briefly, I took her place for two classes, then
knocked her out and started doing a mind-dive while I had an illusion of her 'inspect' some
classes, including your Potions. Hope it helped. The next phase is to utterly discredit her and
your Minister, through means which I'd rather not discuss yet. Too much could go wrong if
there's an eavesdropper."

"Alright," Harry murmured, "but if you're worried about that, how come you're..."

"Because students shag all the time," Lilith murmured, even while she climbed up him bodily
before dropping back down onto his just-revealed shaft with a content sigh, "Mm... needed
that. Fuck me quick, Master, you do have a dinner to get to, and another girl to shag after, if I
read my people right. Maybe two, to make up for missing last night."

Harry growled into her neck in response, pulling her close against him while he started
swinging his hips. But the angle was awkward for him, so after about a minute he spun about,
pushing her against the greenhouse wall instead, and started thrusting hard and fast, like he
knew she liked it.
Ten minutes later, as he was just about finished, a certain Professor walked into the
greenhouse, spotted the shock of pink hair immediately, squinted to get a better look, then
shrugged. "Ah, well. Students... haven't changed since I was a lass, heh."

Hermione rolled her eyes from her place at one of the study tables in the Gryffindor Common
Room, then said, exasperatedly, "Fine- this one time, I'll cover for you- yes, the both of you,
while you have your 'fun', but I'm not doing it again!"

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said quickly, already standing up, his homework half-done.
Ron followed a heartbeat later, his own thanks perhaps a bit less sincere-sounding, but no
doubt, just as heartfelt. Just five minutes later, they were both standing in an otherwise empty
classroom, one which, while clean, did not look like it had been used in ages. The desks were
all stacked against one wall, there was no desk or podium for a Professor, and the chalkboard
was, aside from being spotless, not equipped for use.

"You sure this is the place, Harry?" Ron asked after they had been standing there for a few
minutes, idly chatting about their plans for the evening.

Obvious ones, of course.

Harry pulled out the slip of parchment Lilith had shoved into his pocket after taking his seed
out by the greenhouses again, skimming it over once more.

Master,

Bring your ginger friend to the third unused classroom on the left side of the third floor west
corridor after eight. It will be empty, but I'll be bringing along some... companions for the
both of you. Neither knows who you will be, but I don't think either will say no. One is...
promiscuous, the other wants you, badly. I'll leave it up to you who you shag, but both might
be an option.

Don't need to mention I'll be cleaning out the girls my way later... just remember it won't
prevent pregnancy, so remind Ron that Potion or Nothing is still the rule.

I'll be there, watching, but you won't see me.

-Your Favorite

Harry grinned. She was rapidly growing that way, and not just because she was so eager for
him, physically. Aside from Hermione, he'd never met someone- at least a female- so willing
to help him out.

"Er, yeah, it's the right room," Harry said a moment later, finally remembering Ron's
question, "she did say we'd have to wait a little bit for the, uh, girls."

"Girls? More than one?" Ron asked, looking over his shoulder at Harry from where he'd been
looking out the gap in one of the windows' curtains.

"I guess," Harry replied, "Not sure how she's doing it, though. One for you, one for me."
Before Ron could say anything else, the door opened quietly. Harry could not see anyone
walk in, though he heard padded feet- more than two.

"Alright, Master," Lilith's voice filled the otherwise silent room, "two girls for you and your
friend. Their invisibility will wear off in about... a minute and a half." The door shut as she
finished speaking, but immediately Harry felt her in his mind again. The one who's going to
touch you first is the one for you. The other might take some convincing by your friend, but I
think he'll be able to bring her around.

"Er," Harry said, staring at empty air, "I guess we have to wait until we can see you, then?"

A female giggled some ways off to Harry's left, "Or not, Potter. Some privacy wouldn't go
awry though, would it?"

"Er, no," he replied, then pulled out his wand. Between the four of them, it took about a
minute for a transfigured curtain to be pulled up between the boys, separating the room, and
for two basic mattresses to join them, one on each side of the room.

Just as they finished, with Harry fully intending to add more to increase their comfort and
privacy both, he saw two forms shimmer into view.

They were not who he was expecting.

Not that he had been expecting anyone, really.

Cho Chang and one of her giggly friends?

The friend eyed Harry, then Ron, then gave a little shrug. "I suppose a dick's a dick- assuming
you know how to use it. Come on, Weasley, let's get started. You do know how to treat a lady,
right?"

"Erm, I- I guess?" was Ron's highly intelligent reply.

The older girl rolled her eyes, but gave a little wave to her friend and disappeared behind the
curtain, tugging Ron along by the arm.

Cho, on the other hand, came toward Harry hesitantly. "When I got your note," she said
quietly, more softly than he'd heard her speak since the first time they'd kissed earlier that
year, "I couldn't believe it. I thought... you'd given up on me. Then when you wrote that you
were... looking for just a one-time thing, I... I couldn't believe that, either. But it's true, isn't
it?"

Harry, erection already straining against his trousers- for Cho Chang, a petite girl of Japanese
descent- had been his very first crush, the first person he had thought of in a sexual way-
nodded once. "Yes. I'm sorry- I know it might sound harsh, but I'm not looking for a
relationship anymore. Especially not with... well... baggage."

Cho sniffed. "I understand. Still... I did fancy you. I sort of still do. So... it's alright. We can
have tonight, and then... never again, right?"
Harry nodded, "Probably not. I can't tell the future, but..."

She smiled, then stepped herself until she was over by the mattress.

She turned to face him, then, slowly reaching up one shy hand to slip off her robe, then using
both to pull up her vest and shirt, then push down her skirt.

She stood there, with one hand before her groin and the other arm awkwardly crossing under
one modest breast and up the other to rest on her shoulder, covered by her silky black hair,
and watched him silently.

He took a moment just to admire her. She really was very beautiful, possibly the best-looking
person in her year, as far as he was concerned. She was slim, but not too thin, her breasts,
clad only in a pale, almost sky-blue lacey bra with matching knickers below, were upturned
and neither too big or too small, though they looked larger on her small frame. The toned
legs, well-used to gripping a broom, suggested to Harry that they would be equally good at
wrapping around him, too.

Her lips were small and, he knew, soft and cool, while her tiny, barely freckle-specked nose
separated large, dark brown eyes.

"We do have tonight," he said quietly, then stepped toward her. He stopped without touching
the girl, though he could feel her breath against his neck as he looked down at her. When had
he gotten that much taller? Just at the beginning of the year they were the same height. Now,
he was at least four inches above her. "Do you want to be quick and rough," Harry asked after
listening to her breath pick up slightly, "or do you want to take it slow?"

Cho gave a little shrug, then let the hand on her shoulder fall, along with her dark eyes, down
to his waistband. "Erm... we do have a few hours, right? Shouldn't we... enjoy it?"

Harry nodded, "Sure."

He watched, transfixed, while Cho slowly and unsurely undid his belt, opened his trousers,
then moved up to undo his shirt buttons. She slid it open, next, peppering kisses up and down
the gap before pushing it off his shoulders as she stood the rest of the way back up. "You're
overdressed, yeah?" she smiled shyly.

Without replying, Harry finished removing the oxford shirt, then put a hand on the nearest
wall to steady himself while he removed his shoes, then pants.

When he was standing in his boxers- plain black, but at least better than the school's default
white ones- Cho, too, took a moment to look him up and down, her face turning steadily
more pink beneath the light makeup she customarily wore.

"Lay on the bed," Harry suggested. "I want to enjoy you."

Cho stepped back, eyes fixed on the erection Harry could feel peeking out through his
waistband- he would have been entirely on display if it had gone out the front, but he was too
big for that without planning it- then obeyed.
Her eyes followed him closely while Harry took a moment to listen to the heavy breathing
from across the room. Cho's friend and Ron didn't seem to be talking, but the rhythmic, wet
sound and not-quite-panting told him that they were already well into it.

Harry moved to kneel between Cho's legs, which she opened without hesitation as he
approached, but did not remove his boxers or slide her underwear aside. Instead, he put his
hands on her knees, and started caressing.

Lightly, using both fingertips and whole hands alternating at random, Harry moved up and
down her legs, from the ankle up to where the inside of her thighs met her groin. Yet, Harry
did not go higher, even when Cho let out a whimper as his hands withdrew for the third time
from that area.

He only smiled. Slowly, after working on her legs for several minutes, Harry moved upward,
watching how the girl reacted to the places he was touching her. And he was touching
everywhere except the obvious spots. He avoided Cho's crotch and breasts, but caressed her
sides, stomach, bellybutton, between the modest breasts, even beneath the strap of her bra,
but did not touch the mounds themselves.

When he was finished her exploring her tanned skin- she was tan nearly everywhere, he was
pleased to see- he awkwardly stepped up so he was straddling her stomach, and continued his
ministrations on Cho's arms, then her neck, jawline, and eventually, her face.

As his fingertips ghosted over her lips, she eagerly drew one tip in and sucked, before
gasping. "Gods, Harry," Cho moaned, "This is great, but please..."

"Please, what, Cho?" he grinned.

"Just- can we do it now? Please? It's..."

Fuck her, Master. She's so frustrated she might actually leave, or go to your friend.

"Fine," he murmured to the both of them, "but answer me this, Cho... did you like it?"

She nodded at once, "I did, I just... it's too much."

He stepped back as she spoke so he was between her legs again, then lifted her knees with his
hands before leaning down over her and resting his weight on them.

Without being asked, the slight girl positioned him with one hand and pulled her knickers
aside with the other, and he pushed in.

Only, it was not the smooth feeling he had anticipated.

No- like with Daphne, there was just the slightest resistance about half-way in.

Cho winced, but did not cry out as her hymen tore.

"Sorry, I didn't know," he whispered, lowering onto his elbows to pepper kisses, like she had
before, all over Cho's face.
"It's fine," she whispered after a moment, "Just- let me adjust, please."

Somehow, Harry forced himself to remain still from the waist down instead of pounding into
the small witch like he'd become used to.

Instead, he focused on moving his light kisses down, around Cho's neck, up to an ear, then
down again between her small breasts. Somehow, he found himself pulling her bra down
below her breasts with his lips and teeth, before resuming his kisses on the modest mounds
beneath it, then drawing one, then the other, medium-sized, dark brown nipple into this
mouth and releasing it with a pop.

He continued sucking Cho's tits for over a minute as her body slowly relaxed, then, "You- I
think it's okay if you move? Sl- slowly?"

"Yes, please..."

Harry complied, his member not softening in the slightest despite not moving, because Cho
was tighter than Daphne, tighter than even Lilith, warm and wet- and only a small part of it,
he suspected, was blood.

In, out, achingly slowly, taking three or four seconds in each direction, he moved, until Cho
started to pant much faster than he was moving.

But still he stayed slow, moving gently, until Lilith's voice in his mind said, See how her eyes
are starting to twitch, her fingers aching to move? In a minute, she'll start to play with her
breasts herself. That's your cue to speed up. Don't hit her hard, though, I can tell she's still
tender. Just go faster.

Harry nodded silently and, just a moment later as Lilith had predicted, one of Cho's hands
moved to the breast he was not currently licking and started to knead, while the other slipped
between them to start rubbing circles on her clit.

Trusting his Summons yet again, Harry began to speed up until he was moving at what he
would call a medium pace, still well below his normal, but about twice as fast as the slow
thrusting he had been doing before.

Now change the angle a little. Lift your body up but leave her down there. Maybe, after that,
lift her knees with your elbows.

Harry gave Cho's right nipple a strong lap with his tongue, then rose to his arms, then upright,
putting his hands on her stomach and hip while he continued to saw in and out.

It was a small change for him, but Cho's breathing changed at once, nearly doubling in
intensity until she was almost gasping in time with him. Her eyes fluttered closed, and did not
reopen, though the hand on her chest sought out his briefly before returning to her own.

Once it seemed she was fully comfortable, Harry hooked his arms beneath the smaller girl's
legs as Lilith had suggested, lifting them up at the crook, which took her whole hip and
abdomen off the ground.
Again, the change in angle wrought an immediate change in Cho, who started to chant
beneath her breath, "Yes, yes, yes, right there..."

Harry, too, could feel a slight difference this time, with more pressure on the back and top of
his penis than the front, along with a firmer spot that rubbed along his length at the top of
Cho's vaginal walls.

Her G-spot, Master. That's why she's enjoying it even more. Not always easy to hit like this,
but she has a large one. She'll be done soon.

"Cho," Harry grunted, "Are you... on the Potion?"

She shook her head wildly, "N- No! Gods, it's soo- soooo good!"

She had been quiet until now, but suddenly she was almost screaming in ecstasy.

Harry could feel her walls shivering around him, and the vibration was intense enough that he
barely pulled out in time before shooting his seed all over Cho's stomach and breasts.

While he caught his breath, Lilith's voice cooed into his ear quietly, "She's unconscious...
wow, Master. I knew you were pretty good, but that's impressive for a young man just three
days into his own sexual life."

"I had a good teacher, I guess," Harry murmured.

Lilith smirked as she came into view from behind him. "Don't worry," she said at his
questioning look, "I'm invisible to everyone but you, still. Since she's out, I thought I'd clean
her up the fun way. Watch this, Master."

Without another word, Lilith knelt at Cho's side then, with her long, prehensile tongue, she
began lapping the white, sticky fluid off Cho's body.

At once, Harry was rock-hard- he'd never even imagined such an erotic sight!

Lilith continued, eyes occasionally flicking up to watch him watching her, one hand holding
back the bobbed hair so she had a clear sight of him, until every last drop and dollop was
gone into her mouth. "Still tasty... but I bet there's pre-cum in there."

Harry followed her eyes down to Cho's cunt, still exposed and covered in black fur with a
trail of glistening liquid and blood down between her legs and onto the mattress.

He was still looking when most of Cho's panties were covered by rose-colored hair, and the
long, bright pink tongue slithered its way inside.

"Merlin," he exhaled, "that's hot."

With her tongue still inside Cho, who mewled in her sleep and gave a little twitch of her hips,
Lilith giggled. After a few more seconds, she withdrew and sat back up. "That, Master," she
said primly, while smacking her lips, "is how I gather juices when I have time. I like doing it
that way, and there's no complaints from those I'm pleasuring, either. I can just do it directly
if I must- it's a lot faster- but this way is more fun. Like cleaning you."

Then she moved to straddle the sleeping girl and bent low again, taking his member into her
mouth all the way down to the base.

He groaned, but Lilith did not keep sucking. Instead, she only gave the one long, hard one
he'd come to associate with just that- her cleaning his residue off.

When she sat back up, Lilith gave his todger a little, affectionate pat, and stood up, then
stepped off of Cho. "Come with me, Master. Time for more education."

Dumbly, he followed, glancing back at Cho only once.

Lilith, however, had only gone to the end of the curtain. Harry moved to follow somewhat
reluctantly, then stepped around.

Ron was still sawing away at Cho's friend's pussy, hard and fast, but not as roughly as Harry
might have, while she panted beneath him. Still, neither had said much that he could recall.

"This, Master," Lilith hissed, "is what I wanted you to see. Watch him fuck her... he's not too
bad for a teenager, either. What do you think?"

"He's my best mate," Harry said quietly, "I mean... I don't want to watch a bloke..."

"You aren't watching a bloke, Master," Lilith corrected, "you're watching a bloke and a bird
having sex. Sure, soft-core porn might just show a nude girl, but the good stuff has sex.
People watch each other screw or shag or fuck or whatever all the time. You don't need to
have a hangup about it. It's a pleasant sight, right? Makes you excited? Well... more?"

As he watched Ron's right arm switch from holding him up to start mauling the girl's breasts,
he had to admit, she was right.

Best mate or not, it was arousing.

A couple of minutes later, Ron, like Harry had, pulled himself out and shot his load all over
the girl's chest. Afterward, he rolled off and panted, naked, to lay on the side of the bed.

Just a few seconds later, he was asleep.

"She got off twice, he did twice... fair," Lilith whispered again, "but she wants more. Go get
her, Master."

He hesitated only a moment. Cho's friend was taller, older than anyone else he'd been with
(except, perhaps, Lilith), and had larger breasts, more rounded. But her own eyes were
closed, one hand furiously working her clit in a desperate attempt to finish the job herself
when he stopped next to the other mattress.

"Want me to finish you off?" he asked quietly, knowing that Ron wouldn't wake anyway.
Her eyes flew open in a panic, but a moment later, she hissed, "Shite, I forgot you two were
here. How's- how's Cho?"

"Asleep," Harry nodded in her direction, "I didn't know she was a virgin."

"You were good to her?"

Harry nodded again, "The best I could be. She seemed to enjoy it- her orgasm knocked her
right out."

Both of the older girl's eyebrows rose. "Fuck, not bad, then. Alright... if you could do that to
her and still have a bit left, we can do it, too. Just get me off, damn it, I'm still horny."

A combination, Master, of her own general lust- the reason for her promiscuity- and the dose
of Fog I gave them both. She may want a little more after you, even. We'll have to see.

That thought brought a question to Harry's mind, but he didn't dare ask, not just yet.

He had just started to position himself when the older witch sat up and turned around,
presenting her ass to him. "I like it this way the most," she explained.

"Alright," he agreed. This would, then, be the first human he'd shagged like this.

"Oh," the girl said as he pushed the tip of his dick inside her sopping channel, "you don't have
to be gentle."

"Now that," Harry said, slamming in hard, once, to make her yelp, "is something I can get
behind."

Harry grabbed her waist and pistoned in and out for several minutes, varying only his speed,
and feeling himself grow rapidly more addicted to the sound of flesh slapping together, and
watching the girl's round arse bounce as his abdomen and legs hit it.

Her gasps as he used her almost like he had Lilith, too, helped fuel Harry's lust.

But... Reach around her, Master, fondle those milk-sacks.

Harry obeyed at once- it sounded like an excellent idea. She was tall, so he had to use only
one hand while the other supported himself to reach, but Harry couldn't close a hand around
either one entirely, and they swung and jiggled in his palm every time he tried, with every
thrust.

"Sweet Morgana, yes!" the girl moaned as he started groping her.

Harry kept thrusting, switched his hands after a minute, then stood back up and, instead,
reached around her waist with one hand to search for, then rub, her clit in the same way Cho
had.

She moaned again, "F- Fuck... harder, Potter, harder."

At her urging, Harry gave her all he had with his hips, the hand beneath her blurring over the
girl's clit.

She screamed, loudly, "Eerruuuuuuuuungggh!" as she came around him, drenching Harry's
groin with her juices.

A second later, he did, too, spilling himself heedlessly into the girl, lost in the moment of his
orgasm.

She fell forward onto her chest, leaving her arse and pussy in the air, giving Harry a prime
view as her cunt twitched and flexed, then started leaking bubbly white goop.

"Er... you are on the Potion, right?"

"No, wh- you didn't. Tell me you didn't!"

Before she could protest further, Harry saw Lilith step forward, with an arm outstretched
toward the girl's head, and she fell silent. At once, she began snoring softly.

"Damage control, Master. She's asleep. I can clean her out quickly, but there's no guarantee.
Move, please."

Dumbly, he slid to the side, near Ron's ankles, while Lilith took his place. At once, her dainty
little hand slammed inside the gaping cunt with a squish. Harry's eyes bulged- that was a big
stretch!

After a few seconds, though, the hand came out, seemingly vacuuming up all of his seed as it
went.

Once that was done, Lilith exhaled in relief, then turned to him with a scowl, "I assumed you
knew better, Master. I can't get pregnant that way, but human women can. Always ask, like
your friend has to!"

"I- I mean, she- you said she was promiscuous," Harry said lamely, "I thought that meant...?"

"Assuming," she snorted derisively, "makes an- say it with me- an Ass out of U and Me. Sure,
she sleeps around- seven boys by my count, which is a lot for a tart her age- but she's been
pretty careful until now. You need to remember that you have been taught by a Succubus.
You're a good lover for your age- really good. Other girls your age aren't equipped to handle
that, and are too easy to distract. Like this girl. So you have to be the responsible one."

Harry gulped, then nodded. "I- I will. Is she...?"

Lilith sighed, glancing at the dripping pussy, then idly patted it a few times, "I don't think she
will be, but you can never be sure. Just because I don't detect any more semen doesn't mean
one spermatozoa didn't get by- and it only takes one."

Neither said anything for several minutes while Harry's lack of foresight sank in.

Eventually, he stood up and looked around. "Erm... what do we do about these three?"
Lilith shrugged, "Up to you, Master. Your friend has an alibi in you and your female friend.
The other two can cover for each other. As long as no one stumbles on them, they should be
fine. Or we can wake them up and have another round."

Harry shuddered. As much as the idea had some appeal, he suspected Cho would be tender,
and he didn't want to get his dick anywhere near the unknown girl's cunt for the time being.

"N- No... let's just cover them and lock the door from the inside."

"Alright," Lilith agreed, then stood up herself to go for the curtain.

A few slashes with claws he hadn't seen her possess until just then later, and they had three
makeshift blankets.

A few minutes later, Harry was back in his dorm bed, trying not to think about whether or not
the girl was pregnant with one of his children.

Harry Potter dreamed. He knew he did, yet knowing did not allow him to alter his dream like
it did for some.

For the dream in question did not originate in his own head.

"You see, Potter, how powerless you and your friends are. The Weasley boy, tortured to
insanity the hard way. The Granger girl, so bright, so strong, so beautiful... wasted away, a
catatonic brood-mare for my forces. A high station for a muggle-born like herself, don't you
think?"

Harry Potter roared in pain and frustration as he watched Ron's lifeless corpse rise, sightless
eyes turn to him, then Hermione, then to empty space as the Inferi he had become walked
aimlessly into a wall, and continued trying uselessly to walk through the dark stone of the
large chamber he was bound within.

Ahead of Harry on the left, opposite Ron's shambling corpse, a nude Hermione Granger lay
on a wooden table with no cushion while an endless line of faceless, hooded men stood
waiting for Draco Malfoy to finish humping his half-flaccid little prick into her, with her belly
already half-distended from, apparently, a mid-term pregnancy.

Before him, Voldemort in all his unnatural, horrific 'glory'. Pale, all-but noseless, thin of lip,
with almost glowing crimson eyes split by serpentine pupils, clad only in simple robes of the
deepest, almost smokey, fabric.

A Voldemort twirling a wand- Harry's wand- between his fingers.

"You see, Potter," Voldemort repeated, his voice just as thin and soft as ever, "I have already
won. Dumbledore is gone, unable to help you. Your friends are children, just as powerless as
you are. Your greatest weapon is mine, now, too."

And Harry, in the dream, knew it was true. Knew that Voldemort had his wand, control of his
very magic.
Harry Potter jerked awake, unaware that he was already sobbing while he shivered against
the stone walls of the Gryffindor Fifth-year Boys dorm, only the curtains protecting him from
the late-winter chill, not that he cared to notice.

With his knees drawn up to his chest as far as they could go, Harry buried his face between
them and cried, only dimly grateful for the silencing charms he had started putting up to hide
his activities.

They would do secondary duty this early morning allowing his friends and dorm-mates to
sleep a little longer without being woken by his worthless self.

Then the curtain slid open quietly, and a small, lithe form with rose-colored pink hair slipped
in before turning to close them again.

After she had done so, Lilith, just as nude as he seemed to always be when they were alone,
gently and tenderly pulled Harry back down onto his side so he was curled there on his left,
then slipped into his arms, sliding her own around his neck, too.

He hiccupped then, twice, and, in the first acknowledgement of his Summons' presence, he
rasped out at barely above a whisper, "No offense, Lilith, I'm- I'm really not in the mood."

Her sky-blue eyes glinted brightly in the reflected starlight through the window and the much
dimmer light she generated within, but the Succubus only smiled softly and pressed a quick
kiss to his lips before pulling away just far enough to whisper, "I'm sorry. I felt your pain,
heard your call, came as fast as I could... I didn't expect this. I saw what he- that pale man-
thing- showed you. It's not real, you know."

"I know," Harry hiccupped, "I know. It's just..."

"Ssh, I understand," Lilith whispered when he trailed off, pulling him tighter against herself,
"Let it go. I didn't come for sex anyway, Harry. I came to comfort you. Sure, sex can help
with that, but right now, I think what you need is a friend to hold you close. So I'm here."

"Thank you," he sobbed, and continued to weep into her hair for over an hour.

Eventually, his infrequent shifting had pushed him to the center of the bed and her nearly off
it while his crying started to abate.

Once he was more quiet than not, Lilith whispered, "Hold still, Master," then crawled over
him, subtly changing her body as she went, to spoon up against his back.

When she curled against him, she was an inch taller than he was, her chest larger, firmer, and
quite full. Her hair was long and bright, fiery red, her eyes bright green.

Had he been able to see in the dark and turned around, Harry would have been shocked and,
depending on his mood, either horrified or delighted to be looking into the face of his mother.

When she wrapped her arms around him and continued whispering reassurances and calming
words into his ear, however, Harry quickly, finally, drifted back into a dreamless, nightmare-
free sleep.
When Harry woke up again two hours later, he was already approaching orgasm.

So he barely noticed the headache his earlier weeping had caused, for a thin-fingered hand
was wrapped around his dick, stroking slowly and lightly. Judging by the heat and his
impending climax, it had been doing so for a while.

"Finally awake to enjoy it, Master?" he heard Lilith coo from behind him, even as her larger
than usual chest pressed against him.

His hips jerked forward, thrusting himself into her hand reflexively, "Merlin, yes," he
exhaled, "That's a nice way to wake up, too. I..."

"Ssh, just enjoy it, Master," she whispered, before pressing her lips against his neck, then
moving up to lick at the shell of his ear briefly. The Succubus' arm that he had been using as
a pillow moved up to tweak his left nipple while her right hand moved faster and faster on
him, until he groaned again and forced himself to roll onto his back- he'd rather not stain the
curtains or sheets.

Lilith transformed back to her regular form just in time. Her Master wasn't quite ready to be
jacked off by his mother.

Or at least, someone who looked like her.

He grunted again, prompting the tiny succubus to move as well, climbing up and bending low
to take his cock-head between her lips just as he started to spurt.

"Mm," she moaned even while continuing to jerk and pull at his urethra with her lips and
suction until he was spent and feeling quite empty.

"Thanks, Master," Lilith said with a cheerful little smile, then sat up, cross legged, leaning
against the wall near where he had been the previous night, "I needed that. Feeling... peckish,
I think you say."

"So," Harry frowned quietly, luxuriating in the satisfied feeling while trying to actually give
himself a chance to wake up slowly for once, "you... you weren't out all night collecting,
um..."

"Semen?" she teased, grinning again while leaning over to pat his half-flaccid member, "No. I
was at first, but I came back. You do remember last night, right?"

He frowned, "How could I forget?"

Lilith, in response, gave her own body a pointed look, "Well, there's one way... but seriously,
Master, you can't let him get to you. His dreams aren't real- they're intended to trick you into
surrendering. Besides, he was wrong on one major point."

"Yes, I know," Harry muttered, "he didn't get all my friends."

"No," Lilith agreed, "He did not. But that's not my point, either. Your wand isn't your greatest
weapon. You can use another wand. No, you have other tools, weapons. You have a brain. A
body. Break his face in with your forehead, or a punch, if you have to. You aren't defenseless
even if you're paralyzed, because from what I understand of your magics, you can use them
even without a wand in desperate situations. And, of course, you still have me."

Harry nodded slowly, actually taking a second to listen to what the Succubus was saying.

... Even if that was hard with her sitting there, labia wide open near his elbow, small chest on
open display.

"Erm... thanks. About- about last night," Harry eventually said softly.

"Don't mention it, Master," she replied quietly, "It's not like I hate you, or anything. We
Succubi have never hated humanity. You are our greatest allies, and have been since time
immemorial. For us, at least. We literally could not exist without you, because no other
species we know of has the right sort of DNA for us to blank and use as materials for
ourselves. Not even elves or Veela, genetically the next-closest to humans, would work.
Believe me, we've tried. And you, in particular, are a fine example of a human. It's not often
you find someone as just generally nice as you, much less as honorable."

"Honorable?" Harry snorted. "I'm not honorable. I'm using you for sex, and not just directly,
either. I might have gotten that girl- I don't even know her name- pregnant. The girl I used to
fancy last night, too. Daphne Greengrass... and that girl in the broom closet."

Lilith smiled, "Yes, honorable. None of those were unwilling, remember? Sure, you made a
mistake. But you feel bad about it. Not many teenage boys would, you know? Not even
Succubi, and we can't impregnate each other. You're a good person, Master, and I'm happy to
serve you."

Harry harrumphed, but didn't argue. Instead, he said, "You should probably put some clothes
on. I need to get dressed."

"Mm. Pity. Alright, Master," as clothes materialized- tight, form-fitting ones, but a Hogwarts
uniform sans emblem or robes- around her form. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Divination, a free period, then Double Herbology. Lunch, Transfiguration, Care of Magical
Creatures, and the once-a-week Astronomy, then after dinner, the practical for Astronomy.
Basically a double period, but with a break between them."

Lilith nodded thoughtfully as she watched Harry cancel the charms on his curtains. He, too,
saw her form shimmer briefly, which he guessed was her becoming invisible to all but him,
as he pulled them apart and started gathering his clothes for a shower.

He was a bit surprised when Lilith followed him silently, but said nothing as she stopped
outside the half-wall barrier that kept the communal shower's spray from soaking the floor of
the rest of the bathrooms and leaned aganist it with her chin on her hands against the top of
the wall- she was just tall enough to do so, he saw with amusement.

Maybe that little girl's form has its perks, he admitted in his own head.
She stayed there, dressed and watching, while he started to shower. That alone was enough to
keep Harry somewhat aroused, knowing she was watching him during what was otherwise an
intimate, solitary time (because he rose much earlier than the other boys for just that
purpose), but not enough to regain his erection.

Eventually, he asked, "So, not gonna do anything?"

She shook her head, "No, that Thomas boy and the Longbottom one are both going to wake
up soon. Thomas because Finnegan finally got some rum out of his wand last night, and he's
not able to process it as well as Finnegan, and Longbottom because he gets up early, too. Best
you aren't erect and getting sucked off by an invisible girl when they come in, right?"

"Er, yes," Harry nodded, blushing, though his cock twitched at the thought all the same.

Something which, judging by the glee on his servant's face, she had seen.

Lilith made no mention of it, though. Instead, she said, "Divination- that's the bug-eyed
professor, right? The one who predicts your daily death?"

"At least, yes," Harry nodded, "But Firenze, a Centaur, is teaching it for now since Umbridge
sacked Trelawney."

"Not much I can do in his class, then. I mean, the atmosphere's right- hot and stuffy, people
want to take things off, and it's dim, but too many people looking in all directions except
where they're supposed to. The free period I can work with. How soon do people clear out
from the class?"

Harry responded at once, "He teaches in a different room- once which looks like the
Forbidden Forest, outside. People usually leave quickly, but Lavender and Parvati are as hung
up about him- he's 'so handsome' as they are about Trelawney."

"Teenaged girls," Lilith smirked, shaking her head, "I'll see if one is willing after the class.
I'm not doing anything with Umbridge this morning. This afternoon, during Transfiguration, I
can-"

"Do nothing," Harry interrupted firmly, "I don't trust McGonogall not to be able to see or
sense you, somehow. I heard Animagi take on the improved senses of their animal forms, and
she's a cat. Her nose and ears might well hear or smell you if you are around."

"Alright," the rosette shrugged easily, "CoM, if you can sneak away, we could squeeze in a
quicky. But I think you should wait for that."

"Why?" Harry asked, "there's ample time, if it's not a dangerous creature."

"Because," Lilith smirked, "I'm planning something special, that's why. In fact, after a bit of
skullduggery on my part, I think you're going to have the time of your life, tonight. The
Astronomy Tower is where a lot of the older students go to snog, right?"

Harry nodded.
"So it's perfect."

He frowned, "For snogging? Um... there's a class tonight."

"Yes," Lilith grinned widely, "A class you will be at least an hour early for. Trust me. Head
up there straight after dinner, and you'll find out. Don't bring any... friends. Not this time. But
see what you can do to get yourself some fun during your free period, yeah? Call me if you
want me to Fog up the Divination room before class ends."

"Okay," Harry nodded, "What are you going to do in the meantime, then?"

"Establish an identity. It's annoying being invisible all the time. Only one person to talk to.
No offense."

"None taken," Harry replied at once, "You should talk to more people. Um... any ideas?"

"I'm thinking of going by Jessie," Lilith answered, "As in, Jezebel. Haven't gotten much
beyond that. I'll definitely be a Metamoprh, like your friend the Auror, though, so I can
change form in public. Maybe I'll be a relative from across the sea."

Harry frowned, but nodded. "I'll write to my Godfather, he might have some input on that.
Tonks is his cousin or something."

Lilith nodded. "Alright, Master. I'll see you in Divination, maybe, or tonight on the tower
after dinner. Maybe earlier if things go well."

Harry nodded as she faded away, then seemed to vanish just before disappearing in a tiny
puff of smoke.

Pink, of course.

Harry was intensely glad that he'd already gotten off once that morning by the time he had
entered the Divination classroom- Classroom Eleven, on the ground floor- that morning.

Simply put, it was because of a conversation he had overheard on the way there.

Two girls he did not know, one Ravenclaw, one Hufflepuff, were discussing in hushed, rapid
tones a vow to lose their respective virginities by the end of the school term.

As it was mid-April, they had about one and a half months to go. Plenty of time for him to
make a move (or two), right? Neither, he decided, were particularly attractive, but neither was
unattractive, either. A blonde (the Ravenclaw) of a sort of dishwater color with a slender
body and very full lips, and a much curvier, almost heavyset Hufflepuff with dark brown hair
and chocolate-colored eyes, similar to Hermione's.

The conversation topic alone could have aroused him to the point of being visible despite the
form-hiding robes most students still wore in the chilly Scotland mornings year-round, but at
least Lilith had taken the edge off, so to speak.
Still, no reason to waste time, right?

If Lilith wanted him to shag girls all he wanted... who was he to disagree?

It wasn't like he was in a relationship... right?

He purposefully sat a little ways away from them (near Lavender and Parvati, as it turned out,
with Seamus and Dean on the other side), with most of the students in other Houses dividing
up along those lines, only the two girls he'd overheard sitting near each other but still with
their respective Houses.

Ron came rushing in, looking disheveled, a mere moment before the tardy bell rang.

"Sorry," he gushed quietly, voice hoarse, "over- overslept. Blimey, Harry, that girl was
insatiable. Again, twice, this morning!"

The latter, at least, was whispered, thankfully.

Before Harry could reply, the quiet thud of hooves on the faux forest loam signaled their
teacher's arrival. Firenze the Centaur's deep, slow voice quickly lulled Harry into a stupor,
much as Trelawney's did, "We shall begin this morning with a study of the patterns made by
the Jovian moons..."

That, frankly, was all Harry could remember of the class the next day.

For his attention, what he could spare, was made up in the writing of a note (not taking of
notes, of course), then folding it into a paper airplane, and casting a Disillusionment Charm
on it- he'd just barely figured out how to make it work, after having seen Moody and others
perform it several times this year- before sending it on its way.

The blonde of the two girls glanced down at her handbag when Harry supposed it must have
landed, then quickly back up.

It had made just the slightest of noises, the slip of parchment, as it landed among whatever
else she had in there. But when it became visible after the class (or possibly during lunch,
he'd cast the spell as weakly as he could, so it wouldn't last too long), hopefully she would
spot it.

The remainder of his limited attention was spent admiring the profile of Lavender Brown's
ample chest through her sweater.

Harry's distraction ended the moment the bell rang, because Ron leaned over while it was still
echoing through the space-expanded chamber and hissed, "We have to talk- at least, I need to
tell you something. Privately. Not- not with, well, I guess it's alright if your new friend is
around, but I'd rather she wasn't. Not sure I can get the words out."

Harry nodded, whispered back, "She's occupied this morning, I guess. Classroom Ten should
be empty."
The two headed toward it while most of the students headed to their next elective class, and
slipped inside. Once there, Harry cast every detection spell he knew, before locking and
silencing the door, then moving up to sit on the teacher's desk facing the door, just in case.

Ron, while he was doing so, checked to make sure the windows were shut and locked,
silenced them as well, then turned to Harry, beaming. "Merlin, Harry! That girl- Cho's friend?
She let me shag her three times last night, and twice again this morning! I might be in love!"

Of course, if there was one thing Harry hoped he had learned from his burgeoning friendship
with Lilith... "That's not love, Ron, that's- how would Hermione put this... hormones. You
want to shag. I get that. She's willing, I get that, too. But you don't love her. You don't even
know her name!"

"Marietta," Ron offered at once, smirking, "she told me to yell it out this morning."

Harry's eyes rolled, "That's not really proving your point. You want to keep shagging her,
that's fine, I won't stop you. But you need to remember that she's shagged- by Lilith's count-
eight guys including you. I doubt she'd be exclusive, too."

Ron just shrugged, "Yeah, but those tits, and she's always ready. If she wants to be a slag, I
don't care, not like we're going out. I just want to shag her on the side."

One of Harry's eyebrows twitched. "On the side? Who are you thinking about mostly, then?"

Ron turned bright pink, but said nothing. Instead, he looked away, out the window and onto
the grounds, where a few students were enjoying the slowly-warming weather and the rare
sunny spring morning.

"Hermione?" Harry guessed.

Ron's blush darkened, but he said nothing again.

"Well, get in line, mate," Harry muttered, "Our best friend turned into a hottie."

At once, a great deal of tension seemed to leave Ron's shoulders. "You- you, too?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. For a while, now."

The ginger sighed, "Whew... that's a relief, thought I was the only one. After- well, after the
fiasco last year... I thought I might've lost my chance."

"You still might have," Harry pointed out, "she didn't say she reciprocated. I just said I
wouldn't say no. Only way to find out for sure is to ask. Her, not me," he hastened to clarify.
"Of course, the way she was talking after the last DA meeting, maybe both of us do. I don't
know."

Ron nodded slowly, then started working his lower lip the same way Hermione did when she
was thinking deeply about something. It made Harry smile to see, because it was not the only
habit the pair had picked up from each other.
... Did he care if Ron and Hermione got together?

No, he decided after a minute's thought on the matter, not as long as I get to have her at least
once. I'm not sure I can handle dating someone so... high-strung.

For that matter, he continued, breaking into a smile, I'm not sure Ron could, either. I mean,
clearly they fancy each other, but... an actual relationship? Still... I'd better say something.

"Look, Mate, I need to tell you something, too," Harry said quietly. "About Hermione. If- If
you two ever date, and you cheat on her? She won't take it well. At all. Frankly, I think you'd
be lucky to ever get an erection again. You with me?"

Ron paled, then nodded slowly, his whole body tense once more.

"Good. If she wants a quick romp with no strings, then it's no strings. But if there's a
relationship- you don't go breaking it up by cheating. That's not on."

"N- No," Ron hastened to reply, voice shaky, "Of course not. Violates the Wizard Code."

Harry nodded, knowing full well- as all male students of Hogwarts did before they were
thirteen- that you never violated the Wizard Code. "Right, then. So... speaking of the Code...
you should probably know that, last night when they came in, Lilith told me the girl-
Marietta- had been with seven guys, after you. It's... it's eight now."

He watched, nervously, as Ron worked to figure out what he was trying to say. Would he
explode into jealousy or anger?

It would be typical, and part of Harry felt he deserved it.

But Ron just shrugged after a couple minutes of silence, "So? She's pretty fit, right? Good
time?"

Harry nodded slowly, still waiting...

"Cho not enough?"

Harry's eyebrow quirked again, "No, Cho was fine. Gorgeous, even. I just... it was her first
time. She was tender, probably too tender for another round," he finished, not even feeling
bad for the lie. If he told his best mate he'd fucked a girl unconscious, it would not go over
well.

Mostly because he didn't want to have to try and give Ron pointers.

"So... you and Cho? Giving it another go?"

That question, asked a few minutes later, brought Harry up short.

"Um... No?"
"Good," Ron nodded sagely, turning back to the window, "'Cause she's very pretty, but she's
all wrong for you. Me and Hermione agreed on that in our third year."

Harry blinked again. "Er... what?"

With another shrug, Ron turned around and folded his arms against his chest while leaning
against the sill, "We could tell even back then- both of us. And yes, that's the only reason
Hermione told me I had the range of a teaspoon last year. Before that, she'd mentioned a
thimble."

Harry snickered, he could well imagine Hermione telling Ron that, too. But for him to have
noticed...? He must have been making moon-eyes worse than he'd thought.

"Anyway," Ron waved the matter off, "if you aren't going to, and the opportunity arises,
d'you mind if I... well, have a go?"

"At- at Cho?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

Ron nodded.

"Er... this- Ron, please, please don't take this the wrong way, but... this isn't a jealousy thing,
is it? You want to shag all the girls I do, so you don't... don't feel you're behind?"

This time, Ron let out a full-on guffaw that he had to stifle with a fist in his mouth.

Once he'd settled, the taller boy settled Harry with a firm gaze, "Mate, no. Look... I know I've
been a prat before. I like to think I'm getting past that. I don't envy you your life anymore. I
didn't last year, not really, I was just... worried. I reacted badly, out of habit, with the First
Task. I'm sorry for that, by the way. But this?"

He took a deep breath, then started staring at his shoes while continuing, "It's... It's me. Well,
look at it this way. In the last five days- six for you- I've gotten shagged eight times. Sure, it
was only two girls, but I also got wanked by an honest-to-Merlin Succubus, and got my
todger sucked on by a slag, and got to watch a Succubus shag someone. I mean, ten times is a
pretty heavy week for most blokes, right? Hasn't even been a week. I've got nothing to
complain about. Hell, Alicia and Marietta both said we can go again next week, and
Hermione- of all people- told us she'd shag us both if she thought she could get away without
rumors! Think about that, why don't you?"

Harry blinked, then spent several minutes thinking about it in the same way.

Over six days, he'd gotten an amazing blow-job from a Succubus, had sex with a virgin witch
(losing his own in the process), had his first experience performing cunnilingus on same
while said Succubus sucked him off again, then shagged the demoness, then again, then was
given fellatio by an unknown stranger, then shagged the succubus again, then... that was only
the second day!

"Alright, well, when you put it like that," Harry said sheepishly, "It does sound like we have
it pretty good."
"Spot. On. So, no, Harry, I'm not jealous. I'm ecstatic. So, again, Cho?"

"Er, I s'pose not, if she wants to," Harry said eventually, "I mean... she said she got 'my note',
but I never sent one, and Lilith told me she didn't know who we were before we got there, so
maybe she was just willing to shag anyone at that point. Er, not that you're 'just anyone'. I'm
just glad it was me."

"Har, har, Harry," Ron grumbled while smirking, "Anyway, that's brilliant. So... What do we
do about Hermione?"

Harry shrugged, "Donno. Let her decide? Probably safest."

"Yeah... what about Lilith, then?"

Harry frowned, this time. "What about her?"

"Well, you know... I want a shag. She's hot. Even that little form you were- um-"

Harry's eyebrows raised, "You mean that... yeah. Um..."

Say Yes, Master, entered his mind from nowhere, even as he felt the tip of a tail circle his
groin very lightly, but not tonight. Please.

"Er... she says yes, I s'pose," Harry complied quietly.

Ron, showing a level of astuteness that Harry really should have been expecting at this point,
said, "And you? I mean, if you don't want me to..."

A memory of Ron pounding into Marietta's pussy flashed through Harry's mind.

Seeing the more voluptuous, older Lilith's chest bounce like that...

Harry swallowed, then nodded, "It's fine. Not tonight, though."

"Wicked. Alright, I'm gonna go get my books for Herbology. Want me to grab yours, too?"

"Sure," Harry replied, surprised by the offer.

A minute later, Ron was gone.

Just a few seconds later, a scowling Daphne Greengrass walked into the room, shut the door
firmly, then re-cast many of the same spells he had to protect the door.

Only then did she turn straight toward Harry and send him a glare.

He gulped. This is not going to end well...

 Snake Charmer
Chapter Summary

An offer Harry can't refuse is just the beginning.

When a chance for a little bit of long-due payback comes his way afterward, of course
Harry is going to take it. Just a little payback... maybe teach an entire gang of Slytherins
a much-needed lesson.
One they will never forget.
It's a bit of harmless fun... Right?
Trigger Warnings for this chapter: Extremely dubious consent. I would put it as 'non' if it
was just me describing it.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 4: Snake Charmer

"My Father," Daphne said, "Has betrothed me to Theodore Nott."

Harry blinked. "Um... what?"

"Nott, Potter," she repeated firmly, leaning against the wall next to the door and crossing her
arms beneath her chest, "Theodore Nott. Weedy, thin, bit pimply, our year? Quiet. Not one of
Draco's gang, but his parents were both Death Eaters? He's the smart male Slytherin in our
year."

Harry nodded slowly. That did bring up at least a hazy image of someone... "Not Zabini?"

That one, Harry knew, had been the handsome black boy who Pansy had accused of fancying
Ginny.
She shook her head, "No, Nott. Are you even listening, or just imagining me in the Library,
again?"

He gulped, swallowed, and turned bright red. "Er, I wasn't," he groused, leaving unsaid the
'but I am now'.

She huffed, shot him another glare, then, "My mother is aware- somehow- that I am no
longer virginal. My father is furious that my dowry will be smaller, because of course, she
told him. I blame you."

Harry frowned, "I didn't rape you, did I?"

"No," she grumbled, "and I'm not accusing you of that. I just... if you weren't so... you, I
wouldn't have been interested, and then I wouldn't have said yes, alright? I'm just...just
complaining. Well, and asking for help, I suppose."

"Help?"

She nodded, "Help. You might be as thick as Draco says, you know that?"

This time, Harry full-on scowled, apparently quite harshly, for the beautiful blonde flinched
and looked away. "S- Sorry," she said quietly, "I just... I'm a little on-edge. I'm skiving off
Ancient Runes to be here, you know. That's not normal for me."

"Alright," he acknowledged, though he did not accept the apology (yet). "What help do you
think I can give you, Greengrass?"

One of her eyebrows rose, "I was under the impression you didn't know my name."

"Well, I do," Harry shrugged.

"Fine, it's not important," she waved the matter off, "As for help, I'm not sure. I'm kind of
desperate, and didn't know where else I could ask."

"Okay, well, I don't know what you need, so I'm not sure how I can help you."

"O- Oh. That. Yes, well," she blushed a bit and looked away briefly, then returned a steely
gaze toward his. "I would prefer not to marry the son of a Death Eater, one who has made it
clear that, while he thinks Draco Malfoy is an idiot, does appear to support- well, your
enemy. So help with that would be most welcome."

"Alr- er, I see," Harry replied, mulling the idea over, "I'm not sure how I can help with that,
though."

"You can't," Daphne clarified, "at least, not directly. Yesterday, it occurred to me that I might,
well, make it known about what- well, who, my, er, situation had changed with. Maybe it
would give me a reputation, lower the dowry so much that my father and Nott's father would
break off the arrangement. Make it worth neither of their while, you see."

Harry nodded, though he only felt he barely understood.

"But that wouldn't work," she continued, lurching forward off the wall and beginning to pace
the room rapidly, "because Nott thinks he fancies me. He'd just convince his father to take the
lower dowry and use that to his advantage later. Then I thought of marrying someone else."

"Woah, woah, stop right there," Harry held up a hand.

She glared at him, then continued as if he hadn't interrupted, "but that wouldn't work, because
I'm underage, and until I turn seventeen, have to do what my father wishes- and he's set the
date for the day before my birthday, when it is perfectly legal for him to do so."

Harry fell silent, but felt a bit relieved all the same. He had wanted to shag the beautiful
creature pacing angrily around the classroom, true, and still did. But marry her? He barely
knew her name!

"And, frankly, aside from perhaps you, there isn't a male between the ages of twelve and
twenty that I can tolerate. Saying nothing about marriage! So that puts everyone else right
out, I'd murder my husband before we got too far into things, I can assure you."

"Er... so..." Harry's brain had taken a sudden left-turn. "Are there... witches you'd prefer to,
um, tolerate?"

One delectable eyebrow raised, and Daphne paused mid-step. A moment later, she resumed,
though this time directly toward him. She stopped one half-foot away, glaring up at him, jaw
set. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"No," Harry hastened to reply, and not out of any fear (though she was indeed terrifying in
that moment), "I just... was curious."

"Not that it's any of your business, Potter, but yes, I prefer the intimate company of women.
So far, at any rate. The one, er, experience we shared was... adequate. I have no complaints.
However, I would prefer to remain with my current lover and not feel like I'm cheating on her
again."

Harry blinked. "O- Oh. I didn't... I'm sorry. If I had known..."

She shrugged, waving him off again, "It's not like she's angry about it- I told her that same
night when I reached our dorm. She's happy, because now she doesn't have to, as she put it,
'hold back'."

Harry was beginning to feel more and more confused.

Aside from the sudden revelations that Ron Weasley was, in fact, 'growing up', here was a
girl he'd just shagged- for her and his first times- a couple of days previously, telling him she
had already had a female lover, preferred that lover, but still had enjoyed shagging him- and
on top of that, the lover in question was happy he'd shagged her, too?

"Anyway," Daphne continued, clearly distracted, "that won't work. I don't know... interested
in offing someone for me?"

"Wha- I- no," Harry spluttered.

Only after several seconds did he realize she was giving him one amused eye. "I wasn't
serious, Potter. I don't want Nott dead, I just don't want to marry him."

"Er... look, I don't mean to sound rude, but I have to ask this," Harry said, "but I have to ask...
you're friends with Pansy, right? Parkinson?"

Daphne nodded, "Yes. All of us Slytherin fifth years are friends."

Harry frowned, "And you believe in blood purity, all that?"

The same thin, blonde eyebrow quirked up again. "I do."

"Then I can't help you," Harry shrugged, "Because I firmly don't."

"In my opinion, the two are entirely unrelated."

"Not in mine."

"So, instead of helping out someone who's clearly asking for said help," Daphne frowned
slightly, but otherwise kept her expression carefully schooled as she returned to leaning
against the wall near the classroom door, some distance away, "you are pulling out the 'I'm a
blood purist so I must be a bigot and therefore evil so I won't help you' card. Correct?"

Before he could shoot off an equally snarky reply, Harry forced himself to stop, and listen,
and think before responding.

After all, she had struck at the very core of how he, Harry, thought of himself.

"I'm sorry," he forced himself to say through clenched teeth, "you are right- the two are not
related. However, I don't want to help you, because I think that yes, you are a bigot for
believing in blood purity and I don't agree with that at all. I'm also still not sure how I can
help you."

Perhaps it was hearing the measured, though obviously angry tone he had spoken in, but all
visible signs of annoyance or frustration vanished from Daphne a moment after he had
finished speaking. Instead, she spoke slowly and clearly, taking a seat at the desk nearest the
door. "In that case, allow me to explain a few things to you, Potter, which might help you
understand my point of view. In return, at some future time I will gladly listen to yours. Who
knows, perhaps we might educate each other. But right now, I only care about why I think
you're being a right arse."

Harry tried to mirror the girl's eyebrow-lift, but wasn't sure he had pulled it off.

"My family is old. Very old, one of the oldest in Europe, much less wizarding families in
Great Britain. We are part of a group called The Sacred Twenty-Eight, and no, I didn't name it
that, thank you. It is made up of the oldest extant families in the male line, each of which can
trace their family back for more than twelve hundred years- well before the founding of
Hogwarts itself."

Harry nodded, gesturing for the girl to continue.

"As a result, there are certain... expectations placed on my family, and therefore, me. That the
line will continue. My father has no brothers. I have no brothers, and only one sister. It is not
for lack of trying, my parents assure us. This means... what, Potter?"

He blinked in surprise at the question, but had an answer fairly quickly, even if saying it still
made him blush, "You are expected to have a boy and give it your family's name, right? Even
if you marry into another family and take your husband's name? Two, if you can, and maybe
your sister, too?"

Daphne nodded, "Right. So you aren't totally uneducated in our ways- good."

That much, at least, Harry had been taught by Sirius, though he'd been guessing for most of
it. It was what made a House 'Ancient', as in 'the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black',
Sirius' family.

"So I was raised knowing from a young age two things: one, that I preferred female company
to that of males, and two, that I would have to ignore that at least enough to provide an heir
or two for my own family, and that of any husband. Or..."

Harry thought for a moment, but couldn't come up with an answer. He shrugged.

"Or," she said after a minute longer, "I provide one on my own. My lover cannot do so,
obviously, but I can provide one... out of wedlock. As long as I and my father acknowledge it
as my own child, then it is my child, and there is no chance of it being claimed by someone
else, since it is illegitimate. With me so far?"

Harry nodded, but frowned. He didn't want to father a child and give it up, either!

"So I have been raised knowing I would experience intimacy with both males and females. At
first, I found the idea of being with a man... abhorrent. However, some time during my
thirteenth year, I found myself looking at a few male individuals and wondering what it
would be like... and if it would be as bad as I had feared."

"I was one of those?"

She nodded, pinking slightly again, "Yes. Not for your fame, though I admit that has some
appeal, or your money, for while the Potters were not poor, our family is considered quite
wealthy. It was purely on your looks and general... capability which I seemed to focus on
even then.

"Now..." she sighed, "Now there is another aspect. You are young, virile, and yes, I presume
fully capable of siring children."

Harry nodded, "So far as I know, anyway. I'm not-"

She held up a hand to forestall him, "I'm not asking you to. I'm just stating what I see as facts.
Educating you on my point of view, like I said. May I continue?"

After another gesture to do so, she continued, "When I say I am obligated to do this, I mean I
am obligated. Not by magic, or vows, or some such cheesy thing like that, but simply
because I love my family and what it represents, and I don't want it to die out. I am obligated
by my own wants in this case. You want to have a family to carry on your parents' legacy, do
you not?"

This time, Harry's nod of agreement was firm, even hard.

"Obviously, that would be harder with me, but you can understand the desire, at least. But in
addition to just being a member of a Noble House, like yours- a definition for another time,
but it doesn't come with any title like I've heard the muggles use- mine is also Ancient. I have
literally twelve centuries of tradition and ancestors who I do not want forgotten. True, the
Potter family is even older than our own, but has intermingled much with muggles and
muggle-born, thus preventing it from being a pure-blood House. With me, still?"

When Harry said nothing this time, only frowned slightly at what he saw as a perfectly fine
thing that the teenage girl apparently did not, kept on. "Nott's family is also old, and he has
two brothers, one of whom already has two heirs, the oldest, while the next has one. His line
is secure. That is why-"

"Your father betrothed you," Harry interrupted, "he's willing to take the Greengrass name, or
at least give them to any sons you have."

Daphne replied, "Exactly. There's a little more to it, though. Nott's father has stipulated in the
contract that his son be allowed to take a concubine of his choosing. And, unfortunately, Nott
is one of the people aware of my preferences."

"He wants to bed you and your lover?"

Daphne's head dipped shakily, "Yes. I mean, marrying him is bad enough for me, as I can't
stand him. But imagining him with his paws- or worse- all over... It's too much. That's why I
need your help."

"Alright," Harry agreed, "But I still don't see what I can do. You've said you don't want to
have a baby yet, and I'm far too young to be a father just now."

"Right," Daphne smiled faintly, "now. But in two years, when we're in our seventh year...? If
I'm already pregnant by the end of the year, my father will hold off on any wedding plans
until he has evidence of a boy or a girl. And then he'll want proof of parentage. If I tell him I
won't give that to him, that it was not Nott's child but that it was mine and only mine... maybe
he would leave it be."

"If," Harry said, spotting one gaping hole in the plan, "that child is a male. And, if that- that
donor- is willing to waive custody. I can tell you, if it was me, I wouldn't."

Daphne sighed and closed her eyes, bowing her head toward the desk and folding her hands
together atop it. "That's why... that's why I asked you, specifically. Look, I don't know you.
Maybe I'm assuming too much, or I'm just flat-out wrong, but I picked you for this because of
who I think you are."

"Explain, please."
She swallowed, then took a deep breath. "Look, Potter, I don't fancy you. I prefer T- my
lover. But I did enjoy shagging you, quite a bit, actually. Don't get full of yourself. I'd be
happy to, er, do it again. And again, if needed. In that respect, I suppose I am asking you to
father a son or two for me- but not right now. The reason I picked you in particular to do so is
simple."

She sighed again, continuing in a quieter, almost whisper-soft voice, "I don't believe any
child should be raised without a mother and a father. I'm willing to have an illegitimate child-
a bastard- that I would claim as my own for an heir, but I am not willing to raise it without a
father. So I need someone who will allow me to keep any son- and preferably daughters- for
myself, but still be there. Financially if able, because I don't prefer to mooch off my parents,
but more as a father. Even if it's just as a 'family friend' or 'uncle'."

Harry pondered, deep and long.

But his mind kept going back, perhaps to avoid the heavier issue, to one other problem. "You
still haven't mentioned why you believe in blood supremacy."

"Not supremacy, Potter, purity," Daphne was quick to reply, "there's a difference. I don't think
me being a pure-blooded witch makes me more valuable or more powerful than your muggle-
born friend. My lover is a half-blood, you know? But it's a point of recorded fact: Magical
parents have a great deal more magical offspring."

"Which is why there are so many old families hanging on by a thread, I'm sure," Harry rolled
his eyes as he spoke.

"No, the two are... not unrelated," Daphne shook her head, "But think about it. The muggles
have this thing they call jeanatics, yes? It has to do with how people's pants change- er, no,
their- jeans. Their jeans pass from one person to the next, including how families that
intermix too much causes problems?"

Harry nodded, "That's Hermione's primary argument against blood purity."

"Well, as far as that goes," Daphne nodded, "She's right. Wizards have known that for ages
and ages. The problem with that logic is that the old families in England and Ireland, and
Scotland and Wales, all put together are so old they're all intermingled, and have been for
centuries. Magic breeds magic. True, muggle-born pop up, and it only takes one magical
parent to have magical offspring. Most half-bloods- those not born in later generations- come
from one magical parent, and most of their siblings, if not all, tend to be magical as well.
That's all well and good.

"The issue, then, is what happens when people who have been intermixing for generation
upon generation continue to do so. Sure, you get magical children- most of the time. But
Jeanatics play a part, and sometimes jeans mutate."

Harry had had enough, "It's genetics and genes," then corrected the girl's spelling, "but
otherwise, I think you have it right. Sorry- go on."
"Fine, je- genes," Daphne frowned as she fought to change habit, "can result in squibs
coming from pure families. We've known that for ages, too. And yes, we know that inter-
mixing new blood helps to keep that from happening. But we live on an island. There's only
so many of us, and it's too late."

"For now," Harry shrugged, "But why don't people just- find spouses elsewhere?"

"They do," Daphne frowned briefly, "once in a while. Nott's mother is from Finland. Vinnie's-
Vincent Crabbe- is Romanian. But it's too little, and too late. We would need to have about
twenty percent of the population marry foreign magical blood for that to work, for the next
three generations."

"Never gonna happen," Harry agreed with the unspoken statement at the end, "the society's
too set in its ways."

"Right," Daphne nodded, "including my family. But, there is hope. Remember, I like my
family- I love its traditions, and so on. My family has known about my preferences since I
was nine. They never judged me for it- just made it clear that I still had obligations, which
was fine. In some ways, the old families are far less conservative about some things than the
muggle-born would have people believe. That- well, one aspect of it- is the source of that
hope."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Concubines. Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, has one wife. No concubines. He's not rumored
to have affairs, either, though occasionally he's seen in certain seedier parts of Knockturn
Alley- innocently, I'm sure."

Both Harry and Daphne snickered a little. "He, however, is very unusual for an old, wealthy
family. True, the Malfoys are not one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but his family is old. It was
sourced in France- his great grandfather was a Frenchman who came over during the last
Crusade, or something. To be honest, I'm not sure why he doesn't have a concubine. But since
Concubines are, legally, able to produce legitimate heirs, he could have another child if he
preferred."

"Maybe it's because Draco convinced him all children would be like him," Harry said with a
smile.

This time, Daphne full-on laughed, a high, happy sound that made Harry smile again.

"Oh, that was good, Potter... I wish he'd heard it. It might even be true! A- Anyway," she had
to fight down another round of giggles, "Children of Concubines- registered, legal ones-
aren't required to be seen as legitimate, but can be. Because there are about twice as many
witches as there are wizards in the next five years and previous four- just look around if you
don't believe me- with a smaller number for the next ten after that, it's highly likely that
within the next ten years, the number of Concubines in the U.K. will spike very high. Or,
barring that, people will leave or bring in spouses from outside the country- either way, things
should work out."
"Right," Harry said, "In theory. But what about two muggle-born? Don't they have the same
high chance of magical children?"

"Yes, they do, and this is where the difference between blood supremacy and blood purity
comes in- Supremacists think they are more powerful, or more valuable, because they have
'older blood'. It's ridiculous, and I'll never argue with you about that. The standard for 'blood
purity', by the way, is three generations of magical parents, no misses. Four and up, with a
half-blood, you're still considered pure. Ten and up with a single muggle-born. Potters,
historically, have married half-bloods or muggle-born at least half the time, so they are not by
any means 'pure-blooded'. The age of the family and that so many have still been magical is
what keeps them in 'half-blood' status instead of being considered essentially muggle-born."

"Mudblood, you mean," Harry almost snarled, not missing the slightest of pauses she had
made before the last hyphenated word.

"No, I don't," Daphne countered, "I considered using that word, yes, but it's not the one that
fits best. As I said, I'm not a bigot, Potter, believe it or not. I don't think less of your
bookworm friend, or you, for your blood. It's pointless- anyone with a brain could see the two
of you could wipe out half of the school or more, including the seventh-years, in a one-on-
one fight- probably without much of a break between, either. She's too smart, and not weak,
and you're not an idiot, and really good at Defense. We remember the Tri-Wizard, you know."

"Anyway," she said, "we're getting off-topic again. Blood purity is what I think is correct.
Purity is simply this: magical parents have better odds of having magical children, period. I
don't, personally, care if my spouse is a half-blood, pure-blood, or muggle-born. I would
prefer not to marry a muggle, and that's it, because I want magical children. Is that so
wrong?"

Again, Harry forced himself to actually think about what the witch was saying. Eventually, he
sighed, "No, I don't think it's 'so wrong'. I still don't agree with a few of your underlying
ideas, but given the information you presented, I can see how you'd think the way you do."

"Good," Daphne nodded, then stood back up and started pacing again, this time much slower
and less frenetically than she had before, "Good. I'm glad I at least got you to agree to think
about it, anyway. So, here's... here's what I'm actually asking. I'm sorry if it's too much, I
won't ask again if it is, but..."

"Just spit it out," Harry suggested, "Besides, it's almost time for Herbology."

"R- Right. Sorry, it's not as easy as just saying it. Alright... here goes."

"I would like you, Potter, to provide for me- within our seventh year, if possible- one child,
which may or may not be influenced to become a male heir via potions, and possibly another
no more than two years after the birth of the first, up to and including a third child, should
one not be- viable.

"F- Furthermore," she took a deep breathe and paused mid-stride momentarily, "I would
request that you give up any legal claim of parentage to the children, allowing me to raise
them as Greengrasses with my family name, with the stipulation that you would act as a
father to them in all important respects, wherever you reside."

He stood silently leaning against the same desk for several minutes.

In fact, the next one to speak in the otherwise quiet classroom was Daphne, "Um... what do
you want out of the deal?"

"What I want?" Harry asked, shocked. "I... that's... I hadn't considered it."

"Well, I wouldn't feel right about it if you got nothing, Potter," Daphne grumbled, "So think
of something. I'd like to get to class, too."

"What is a fair trade for three children?"

"I'm not asking you to give your kids up, Potter- just do so legally, for my family. Remember,
I asked- I want- you to help raise them as your own. Hell, if nothing else, take me as a
Concubine if you want to marry Granger or something. I'm sure you could convince her."

Of that, Harry was far less sure, but... the idea did have some appeal.

After all...

"Um... I don't know anything about it," Harry eventually said, sounding unsure and nervous
even to himself, "but I'd prefer, um, the sound of the Concubine thing. Then, at least, I'd have
a reason to- to be around."

Daphne watched him for several seconds, then asked, "And you'd have no problem with me
spending most of my nights with- my lover?"

"No," Harry said at once.

"And you wouldn't ask or pressure either of us to- to join you? You'd let me do it on my
terms, and not ask her at all?"

"Yes."

"Good. It's agreed, then. You get a pure-blood concubine, I get children to carry on the family
name... and, it seems, neither of us outright hate each other."

Harry grinned, "And the sex isn't too bad either, right?"

Daphne huffed as she turned to the door, "Don't get a big head, Potter. I'm sure you're just
'average'. You just caught me on a particularly good day for it."

She was out the door long before his laughter faded.

If she only knew!

Then her head poked back in, "Oh, and my lover? She's in a similar situation. Just so you
know. No betrothal, but her parents want two heirs. You might be the one she picks, I don't
know."

As tantalizing as the thought of shagging Daphne Greengrass again was, just imagining
having children at his age- and two years older was not that long, Harry felt- left him walking
from Classroom Ten in a daze, and not a sexually satisfied one.

In fact, Harry remained 'unsatisfied', despite his efforts, until after dinner, when he skived off
playing chess with Ron or doing homework with Hermione, claiming that he wanted to get an
early start on the Astronomy practical as soon as it got dark, but while it was still at least a
little warm.

Ron gave Harry a knowing wink, before turning his attention to Dean and Seamus, instead.

Hermione, instead, gave Harry a glare. "I know what you're really doing, Harry, so don't
pretend I'm an idiot, please. You're going to meet up with your... friend."

Harry, despite his best efforts, pinked. "Er... no, I... well... I am going to meet up with her,
yeah, I s'pose," his voice dropped to a low whisper, "but I don't think she can stay long.
She's... been busy. Working on our Umbridge problem, apparently."

Hermione blinked. "Umbridge? That's- I hope she doesn't get in trouble. Or get you in
trouble. Still, that would at least explain a little of why she's been acting so oddly the last
week, wouldn't it? Alright, then... but be careful. I'll see you in an hour or so."

Harry nodded, gathered his things once more- he did, after all, need to attend the second half
of the Astronomy class after the tryst (or whatever) Lilith said she had arranged on the Tower.

When he got there, Harry was unsurprised to see several enterprising older students already
there, mostly sixth and seventh years, along with the occasional fifth year. Yet, for all the
students snogging, petting, or in one seventh-year couple's case, all-but shagging, there were
no others apparently waiting for someone.

Not wanting to be stared at for being alone, or accused of voyeurism, Harry slipped back
down the staircase to the bottom of the attic-style stairs and threw his Invisibility Cloak over
his shoulders, then climbed back up. With a quick Silencio cast on his own shoe before
stepping out, Harry slipped out into the open air and shut the trapdoor again as quietly and
quickly as possible.

Shooting another quick look around, Harry was glad to see that no one seemed to have
noticed his presence, or the door opening and closing twice without anyone entering. If they
had, maybe they had assumed whoever had come in the first time had left the second.

If he was lucky.
Instead, he watched, half-bored and half-aroused, as several people he didn't know, and a few
he did, got closer than was even vaguely allowed by school rules- especially after Ministerial
Decree Number... what was it, again? The one forbidding opposite-gender students from
holding hands or other 'fraternizing'?

"Alright Master," Lilith's voice in his ear, her actual voice, made him jump.

He was suddenly very glad for the cloak and sound-muffling spell when he yelped, too.

"They're coming up. I need you to stay quiet for now, just let things happen, okay? This is
part of my plan. If you want to enjoy yourself while watching, go ahead, but I want you to
keep your eyes open and watch. Don't interfere."

Harry swallowed. This was sounding like... something he didn't want to partake in, the way
Lilith was talking.

Then the trapdoor was thrown open before him, and the head of Draco Malfoy came into
view, quickly followed by the rest of him, and no fewer than seven other members of the
Hogwarts High Inquisitor's Inquisitorial Squad.

"This is what you had in mind?" Harry whispered.

"Yep," came Lilith's quick reply as her arms snaked around his waist to pull him slightly
against her chest with her hands splayed across his pectoral muscles, thin though they were.
"Let it play out- don't get caught. I'll distract them if you are, but stay out of their way and
they shouldn't see you."

"Alright," Harry murmured, "but watching Draco and his goons go at it isn't what I had in
mind for the evening."

"Nor I, Master," Lilith giggled.

She said nothing more as the remainder of the gathered Squad took up positions around each
couple, then drew wands.

Harry was about to move to protect the relatively innocent students when Draco's voice
shook most of them out of their distracted reverie.

"Listen up, you lot! By order of High Inquisitor Umbridge," he drawled, voice grating on
Harry's nerves more than usual with the false authority the snooty teenager had adopted, "the
Astronomy Tower is henceforth barred from student use without faculty members or the
Inquisitorial Squad present. And we aren't staying around, so you lot need to clear off."

"Says who?" a particularly burly Hufflepuff seventh-year growled from behind what Harry
thought was a sixth-year Ravenclaw who had been sitting on his lap, "You and what army?"

"Not an army," Draco sneered, gesturing at his friends, "but you should remember who you
are dealing with. Not only have each and every one of you violated that rule by not jumping
right up, you're also witnessed by eight other people violating Educational Decree Thirty-
Two. You know, the one that says you can't hold hands, or more? I'd say you all are doing far
more than that, wouldn't you?"

A moment later, there was a mad scramble as nearly every student rushed to resume a state of
full uniform dress and slip past the gathered Inquisitorial Squad, each of whom shot the
various other students a rather condescending sneer on their way by.

Only one student, that same Hufflepuff, took a little longer. When all the rest had gone, he
stopped, standing tall and vaguely threatening without being overtly so in front of the almost
as tall, still pimply blonde. "Think you're a big man, eh, Malfoy?" the Hufflepuff scoffed,
"You and your little friends? Well, I can tell you now, Umbridge won't be here much longer,
and then you'll get yours."

"Not from you," Draco sneered right back, "Because you just threatened an Inquisitorial
Squad member. That's fraternizing, breaking uniform code, being out-of-bounds, and
threats... you may as well pack up your things now. You'll be leaving in the morning."

The Hufflepuff gave a confident snort as he shouldered his way between Goyle and Malfoy.

If you had asked Harry, though, he would have said that despite his bravado, the older student
had been shaken by the last exchange.

Taking N.E.W.T.s was not impossible after Hogwarts... it was just prohibitively expensive.

"Wait," Lilith whispered a moment before Harry started to move himself, then he felt her
hands leave the soft embrace she'd held him in, and heard the quiet rustling vibration of her
hummingbird-like wings as she lifted off.

Just a few seconds later, while the Squad were still congratulating each other with several
jeers at the other student's expense, Harry caught a whiff of an aroma that reminded him of
lilacs briefly.

Slender arms slipped around him a few seconds later, and Harry watched, transfixed, as the
Slytherin students shared several pointed looks even as their conversation quieted.

Harry was starting to get nervous, wondering what was going on, when Draco looked toward
Pansy Parkinson. "Well, it does seem like a shame to waste this perfectly good Tower...
should we meet up here, after the class is over?"

She smiled, then nodded.

A few minutes later, they were gone.

"There, Master," Lilith said in her normal voice after the door had shut, "some information
for you... and some possible allies. Of course, now I can explain more of the plan. My plan,
anyway."

"Yeah," Harry frowned, more from feeling the cool spring night air after Lilith's departure
from her hold on him than anything else, "I mean, I get they're blackmailing people, or at
least being bullies, but that's hardly anything new."
"No, that isn't," Lilith grinned, "but after the class, tonight? That's when the real fun begins.
I'm going to... well, use more than the tiny dose of Fog they got this time, just to plant the
idea in their heads. And then we'll see who blackmails whom."

"Ah," Harry smiled, "I see where you're going with this... do we have time for more?"

Lilith shrugged, blinked, then shrugged again. "That depends... do you think I can get you off
in about three minutes? That's all the time we have until Professor Sinistra gets here."

Harry frowned. "You probably could..."

"Oh, I can," Lilith giggled, "But I won't. Have patience, Master. You should probably take off
your cloak, though, since you're supposed to be studying."

He had just raised his telescope to the darkened night sky when the trapdoor opened yet
again, and a surprised female voice called out, "Potter? Where's- that's odd. Usually I have to
kick students off the Tower every evening class. Today, I just find you... and you're actually
working."

Harry looked away from his telescope briefly to smile at the dark-skinned Professor, "Yeah, I
got lucky. I overheard some students grumbling about the Inquisitorial Squad kicking them
out, and just missed the Squad myself."

"Mm, perhaps that's a good thing," the serious witch said, reaching within her robes to pull
out her own advanced, expanding telescope as well, "If rumors of the rift between you and
Mr. Malfoy are to be believed."

"They are," Harry groused, "Unless there are new rumors we're bosom companions, or
something."

Professor Sinistra laughed as she tapped the telescope with her wand, causing it to leap from
her hands and expand several times in size before sprouting three legs and landing to
dominate the center of the Tower as it often did during classes.

As she worked, Harry could not help but watch the handsome woman, nor his thoughts, on
the opposite gender far more than he suspected any other boy his age's were. She is fairly
handsome. Not someone I'd normally go for, but her figure...

Harry continued to surreptitiously watch the older woman as she set up her own telescope.

Before long, other students had begun to filter up, Professor Sinistra greeting each one in
turn, until the entire class was assembled. Then, "Welcome once again, class, to the
Astronomy Practical. As we discussed last week, at Professor Firenze's request, we will be
focusing on the Jovian sub-system this week, so if you would turn your telescopes into the
area I have turned mine, you should quickly find..."

Harry did not exactly tune out the class, for he had always somewhat enjoyed star-gazing. It
was, if nothing else, a relaxing, peaceful way to spend an evening (if one were not in a class,
anyway). True, it would, perhaps, not help him in the upcoming fight against Voldemort, but
as they (mostly Hermione) said, knowledge was power.

Somehow.

But Harry focused as much as he could, and tried not to stare at the goose-bumped, pale legs
of several of the girls in the class. Many of them had switched to the spring- and fall-length
skirts (in other words, the shortest skirts the school dress code allowed) earlier in the week
given the warming weather.

Now, he suspected they were regretting it.

He, though, was no stranger to chilly nights from his time in the cupboard under the stairs
back in Little Whinging, and had always enjoyed cold more than heat anyway, so while he,
too, was foregoing the vest that many of the male students wore under their robes (and, in
fact, the robes themselves since Professor Sinistra was not exceptionally strict), and was clad
only in his slacks and Cambridge, along with the ever-present Gryffindor tie.

That was how the class passed.

Then, as everyone else was leaving near eleven, Harry heard Lilith whisper once again in his
ear, "They're already in a classroom below, waiting for you all to leave before they come up.
Your friend, the smart one, suspects something, but Ronald is keeping her occupied. He's a
decent wing-man, you know."

Harry grinned slightly, then glanced around the tower to make sure no one was watching him
before he slipped the Invisibility Cloak over his shoulders.

If anyone noticed, no one said a word or so much as glanced in his direction as the mingled
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fifth-years went, often two-by-two, down the stairs and deeper
into the castle.

Probably, he mused, they've seen me do it enough this year that it's no longer worth
mentioning.

Just a few minutes later, Gregory Goyle's large, round head peeked out of the door in the
stairwell, glanced about, then disappeared. A few seconds later, it was back, this time holding
the door open for Vincent Crabbe, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Draco
Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode, Cassius Warrington, Graham Montague, and a Sixth-year
Slytherin girl Harry did not know by name, though he had seen her around the castle often
enough to recognize her face easily.

Not that she's anything to recognize, Harry frowned slightly beneath his cloak, Bulstrode's
almost prettier, and I'm still convinced she's got Troll ancestry. She's got a chest, I'll say that,
but she's... large. Very. And that's not something I'm into, though I s'pose it's alright for some.

... At least Parkinson's alright, even if she is a complete cow.

His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet flutter of Lilith's wings as he felt her thin arms slip
around his waist from behind, one hand going to his chest while the other immediately began
fishing at his waistband for the button.

"I've already flown over them twice to dispense some Fog of Lust, once as they came up the
stairs, and again just now. Two doses plus the light one earlier should be more than we need
to get some good material," she whispered quietly in his ear, the feel of her hot, moist breath
against the back of Harry's neck making him shiver even as her hand finally popped the
button of his slacks and moved to the zipper.

"What's your plan?" he asked, just as quietly. Despite being under the cloak and knowing that
Lilith was quite invisible- he couldn't see her either, at the moment- his eyes were still roving
warily around the eight Slytherins, just in case they detected his presence.

For now, though, they were standing around in a loose circle at the center of the Astronomy
Tower, bare of all but the sockets for Professor Sinistra's heavy telescopes, and the students
and succubus themselves. Harry was almost amused at the level of nervous tension many of
them were displaying, shooting odd glances at each other while they spoke in hushed tones
about... something. Harry felt he should have heard what, but his attention was too focused
on what Lilith's right hand was doing in his slacks, which she had not yet pulled down.
Instead, she was gently massaging his member and scrotum while leaving it all quite cooped
up.

Eventually, Crabbe asked a question of Malfoy, his voice much higher and softer than Harry
had expected. It surprised Harry largely because he so rarely heard the overweight, thuggish
young man speak.

"I don't know, Crabbe," Malfoy drawled, "Why don't you think about it really hard? What do
students use the Astronomy Tower for?"

There was silence among the Slytherins for over a minute, while Warrington, Malfoy,
Parkinson, and Bulstrode started to snicker at the expense of the two stupidest people Harry
had ever met- and he grew up with Dudley and his gang- worked it out.

"We're, er," the taller, broader, and more muscular (if dumber of the two) Gregory Goyle
answered, "Gonna be doin' astonimy?"

Pansy snickered.

Malfoy literally slapped his hand over his face with a groan, "No, you idiot. Students also
come up here to enjoy themselves. So you lot have fun. Pansy... come over here, will you?"

With nary a blush, Pansy shot a confident, 'I win' sort of look at the other two girls, then took
up Draco's hand and led him, instead, over to a section of the wall near Harry, where they
immediately started kissing.

Harry watched, distracted, horrified, and amused, by the lack of skill Draco was
demonstrating. He could hardly, Harry guessed, be considered an expert, but one shouldn't
slobber that much, should they? As well, his hands were immediately awkwardly groping at
Pansy's chest and thighs, while she was attempting to fend him off just long enough to sit
down on the battlement wall.

Though, Harry was also amused to see, she wasn't trying very hard.

Their actions, though, seemed to have spurred the others on, because when Harry looked
back in their direction, both Crabbe and Goyle were staring wide-eyed at Millicent, who
shrugged, muttered, "May's well, I suppose... alright, you lugs," then started pulling up her
shirt from out of the waistband of her long skirt.

Warrington and Montague shared a glance, then looked toward the older girl. She, though,
frowned back in their direction. "No way. Maybe you, Warrington, but I'm not stooping to lay
with Montague."

A moment later, Lilith's hands whipped from Harry's pants and from beneath his shirt and she
flitted past him, still invisible.

There was another waft, this time of... cinnamon?

A moment later, the girl's eyes fogged over, and she shrugged, suddenly pink in the face.
"Well... whatever. This one time, I guess," then started removing her own uniform.

"And that's not rape how?" Harry asked quietly as soon as the succubus started fondling him
again.

"Well, for one," Lilith whispered, pausing to lick the shell of his right ear as she spoke, "She's
already been with both of them before, but is currently dating the more handsome one, so she
doesn't want to seem like she's cheating. But the ugly one is better endowed, so she's
basically just faking it to have him again. Besides- she, like you, has always wanted a
threesome. It's not uncommon, you know."

"O- Oh," Harry said, then turned his attention back to Pansy and Draco.

She was looking, judging by her expression, increasingly frustrated while the blonde boy was
growing angry.

Just as he was about to turn his attention to what Lilith was doing to him, though, Harry's
mind caught one phrase that made his entire day.

"Can't even get up? What's wrong with you?"

Pansy had hissed it quietly, but forcefully.

Draco, though, still glanced back hurriedly at the others, probably to see if anyone had
overheard. "N- Nothing," he murmured, red-faced, then turned back to the girl he was still
groping awkwardly at, "it's just... Let me change positions. Trade me."

Grumbling, Pansy complied, the two moving around each other awkwardly so that she ended
up standing between his legs, this time.
Only, as they resumed kissing and the olive-complexioned girl started reaching for Malfoy's
trousers, Harry noticed that Draco was not focused on her.

Instead, he was watching the beginnings of...

Holy shit. They really did get a good dose.

Bulstrode, to Harry's amusement, had apparently pushed Goyle onto the ground and sat, skirt
still on but riding high, on his member, for she was rising and falling on his lap rhythmically,
while her hands fumbled beneath a roll of flesh for Crabbe's own penis which, to Harry's
growing horror, she leaned forward and took into her mouth.

"How is that supposed to be arousing?" Harry whispered to his companion, who had slipped
beneath his cloak once again to resume her ministrations, though she, to his frustration, still
had not freed him.

"It isn't, for you," Lilith murmured, slipping around him to the front and standing on her toes
to press a soft, sweet-smelling kiss against his lips as she did, "But you have different
standards. The tart on the left is for you if you want her, or you can have me. I can't stay for
both, though, because I have to tend to your Umbridge problem. This is phase two, right here,
by the way. Phase three is probably going to happen tomorrow night, which I have to get to
preparations for. Phase four should be the final one, in a couple days."

"Mm," Harry murmured, "Does that mean I can have you now, and Pansy later, then?"

His arms slipped around the small form to grab at her ass, pulling the Succubus against him,
making her squeak softly as he ground his now very hard length against her chest.

"It could," Lilith murmured, her sky-blue eyes glinting in the starlight half-hidden and hazy
through the Cloak, "if I wanted you to have that much fun. I do need to get going, though. I'll
make one more pass for them to really get into it... and I'll leave it to you to claim the tart. If
you wait and watch, you should know how soon enough."

Then she was gone, leaving Harry cold and alone, erection still straining in his trousers.

Again, cinnamon filtered through the air.

A moment later, Harry finally noticed- Warrington and Montague were at either end of the
now-nude sixth-year, one hammering into her mouth and the other a dripping cunt, while
Crabbe and Goyle were now sandwiching Millicent between them, one apparently shagging
her pussy while the other took her arse.

All six teenagers were moaning or grunting in abandon, eyes glazed with lust and movements
jerky.

To his left, though, Pansy was now also lust-crazed, while Draco Malfoy...

"You still aren't hard?" Pansy growled, voice low and threatening.

"I-" was all Draco got out before inspiration struck Harry.
With a whispered word, both fell to the ground, Stunned.

He was, admittedly, curious why Malfoy hadn't been affected by Lilith's Fog of Lust. Was he
truly incapable? The others seemed to have been driven half-mad by the three doses.

Still... "Incarcerous," he murmured, pointing his wand at Pansy while imagining a certain
formation of ropes appearing from his wand.

Next, Harry turned his attention to Draco Malfoy, who, for the first time in Harry's school
career, was utterly at his mercy. Yet, all Harry felt for the boy who had once- even this year-
antagonized him so thoroughly, was pity. Still... "Maybe a lesson will do you some good," he
murmured, then cast a Disillusionment Charm on Draco, followed by a more standard
Incarcerous, a Silencing Charm, and then, "Enervate. Now, Draco, before you get all hot and
bothered- you are bound, silenced, and all-but invisible. I'm also going to be putting a
Sticking Charm under you to keep you here. Do you understand? Nod if you do."

Draco Malfoy cast his green eyes about, scowling when he saw his girlfriend bound, hands
behind her and ankles together but still mostly clothed, on the castle stones beside him, then
looked-wide-eyed at his friends in the Inquisitorial Squad and what they were doing just ten
feet or so away.

Slowly, he nodded once, fear creeping into his face for the first time all year.

Harry grinned triumphantly. "Now, you have a choice. I'm going to show Pansy what a man
can do. You can watch and take a lesson, or you can imagine it's you between Crabbe and
Goyle. Your choice." As Harry rose from his crouch in front of Draco, who he had left
slumped against the wall so he could see the whole Tower's top, he cast the promised sticking
charm.

It would hold long enough for his needs, anyway.

Moving to Pansy, he hauled her up by the waist and positioned the girl so she was leaning,
bent over the battlement. Convenient height, he thought with a grin, then put Draco and the
others largely from his mind.

They would be too distracted, anyway, even if they did notice him under the Disillusionment
he was about to put on.

As the wet egg feeling passed to Harry's legs, he slipped the cloak off and stuffed it into his
pants pocket, then finally freed his member, which jumped out in the still night air, broken
only by the grunts and moans from behind him.

Then Harry stepped up behind Pansy and, with his left hand over her bound wrists at the
small of her back, pointed and said, "Enervate."

For a moment, she was still, then started squirming. A second later, she stopped under the
probably painful pressure Harry was applying to her hands.
Masking his own voice as much as he could, Harry growled, "You feel that thing on your
arse, Parkinson?"

She whimpered, but made no other noise.

"It's kind of sad, you know. A pretty enough girl like you, mad for a boy... only he can't
satisfy you. You want to be satisfied, right? You wish he could do it?"

Slowly, Harry watched as Pansy moved her head back and forth, casting about for any sign of
Draco, or perhaps to see who he was. All she saw, with the Disillusionment spells active, was
some of her friends shagging like they hadn't a care in the world, right behind her.

She whimpered.

Harry, invisible, smiled. This feeling of power, of control... it was fun!

"Now, here's what I propose," he said, voice still carefully controlled to sound older (he
hoped), and significantly different from his normal tones. "I know you're really randy right
now. You are, aren't you? You can admit it."

Again, Pansy whimpered. This time, though, she nodded afterward, just once, a quick,
jerking movement before she put her chin on the stone and resolutely looked out over the
dark grounds and forest beyond.

"I'm going to help you with that," he murmured, softer, and using his now-free right hand,
slid the palm up the back of her right thigh to rest on what he found was a surprisingly well-
shaped, firm arse.

Pansy whimpered, softer this time, and became very still, almost like a mouse who is afraid a
cat has spotted it.

Harry grinned, then gave her rump a little, soft slap.

She jumped nearly a half-inch up, then immediately went limp again. Harry lifted his hand,
still grinning madly. How had he never noticed how much fun being in charge was? He
glanced over his shoulder to where he knew Draco was sitting, he alone able to see the boy
through his own Charm.

The blonde was, as Harry had hoped, looking back and forth between Pansy (for he could not
see Harry), and the small orgy on his left.

"Now," Harry continued as he turned back to lean low over Pansy, so that he was whispering
in her ear just close enough that she could feel his mass and weight over her, "here's my price
for helping you with your problem. You agree, and I give you an experience you've never had
before. You say no, and I leave you to your impotent boyfriend. So...

"Rule one, you do not look at me unless I tell you to. Keep your eyes forward or down, no
matter what."
Pansy whimpered, then nodded again, just like before. Was she really this submissive, or was
she too terrified of the 'unknown assailant' to fight back?

"Two, you let yourself enjoy it. Don't hold back on my account- have as many orgasms as
you want. Keep score, if you want, so you can taunt little Draco with it, later. In fact, do that,
won't you?"

Again, she nodded, though this time the girl before him didn't whimper. Instead, Harry felt
her arse push back slightly against him, grinding one cheek against his dick through her skirt
and, probably, knickers.

He only pulled away slightly. "Three, you do exactly as I say until I've had my fun... no
arguments, no hesitation."

This time, Pansy said nothing, made no motion or movement or noise whatsoever.

"Finally," Harry grinned once again at this idea he'd just had, "you never get to tell anyone
about this if you do find out who I am. Not even dearest Draco. You swear an Oath to that
effect. Can you do those things for me, Pansy? Can you do what I told you to do for a night
of ecstasy?"

He waited, for more than a minute while the brunette still lay, chest panting and heaving on
the stone wall before him. Then, her voice barely audible beneath the grunts from behind the
pair of them, she said, "I'm not on the potion."

Harry only grinned, "I wasn't planning on you needing it. Any other objections?"

"N- No... Morgana, just- just fill me up!"

"No," Harry smirked to himself, then as she stiffened in growing annoyance, he pushed once
more with the hand on her arms before letting go, "Stay there. Remember- no looking. No
moving unless I move you."

Pansy gave another whimper, but didn't try to move again, so Harry stepped back once and
moved both hands to her thighs, where the right had been previously, before he began sliding
them up. This time, though, he used only the lightest grazes of his fingertips, pausing
occasionally, and on two instances suddenly grabbing, squeezing into the soft, light-brown
flesh before moving abruptly on.

Pansy's legs were already shaking with anticipation when he reached the hem of the skirt,
which might have been regulation-length, though Harry doubted it. There, he teased the girl
further by running the same fingertips under its length but not lifting for several seconds,
before suddenly flipping it up and over her back, revealing no knickers at all- just an expanse
of paler, but still somewhat browned flesh, and a thatch of thick, dark, but unusually (to
Harrys' experience, anyway) straight pubic hair, which was already dripping with the liquid
flowing from the line of pink at the center.

"Merlin, you are randy," Harry murmured, then with a quiet sound, he slapped both cheeks,
one after the other.
Pansy yelped, but did not object. Harry glanced to Draco's location, found him still
shimmering as if invisible, though he stared now at Pansy's bare arse and twat, then
coincidentally followed his gaze to the other Slytherins.

Harry smiled- they had moved again. Now, Crabbe and Montague were enjoying the older
girl, this time with Montague at her face, and she was on her back moaning and writhing,
while Millicent struggled to take both Goyle's impressive package- Harry would guess him at
nearly two inches thick and maybe eight long- and Warrington's rather standard one into her
mouth at the same time, her eyes almost rolled back in her head with lust.

Harry delivered another pair of slaps, this time to the left cheek and directly onto Pansy's
crotch. She actually screamed, this time, but again, no one else looked in their direction. True
to her word, though, Harry did not see the girl look back to see who had abused her.

Instead, she quietly whimpered, then jerked in anticipation of pain when his hand touched her
again. This time, though, he was soft, gentle, and cupped her mound with his hand before
circling it all slowly once, twice, five times.

By the time he finished the slow circles and withdrew his hand, Pansy's groin followed it
almost instinctively before he pushed her back against the battlement. "Ah, ah. You stay
there. Wait, no... Stand up, but stay there."

She struggled to do so while bound and desperate, he guessed, for relief, but Pansy complied
without a word.

Once she was upright, Harry reached around her and grabbed at the front of her shirt, ripping
it wide open in one strong motion.

She cried out again, this time, as the night air hit her tender flesh. Over the girl's shoulder,
Harry could make out a black, lacy bra and rather full, if not large, breasts. He then moved
his shoulders up to hers and pulled the robes and ruins of the girl's shirt down to her waist,
where they caught on her bound hands. "Perfect," he muttered, then reached around again,
sliding the tips of his fingers once more down her arms from the shoulder, then forward to her
waist, then up and in until they hit the bottom edges of the girl's well-shaped chest.

"You've got nice baps, Pansy," Harry growled, remembering this time to change his voice,
then grabbed both into his hands and gave a firm squeeze. They were just small enough to fit
into his hands with a little left over on his fingertips, with a little bit of sag. Harry could feel
her nipples digging into his palms as he began to knead, more forcefully than he had with
anyone so far.

But if Pansy was in pain, she didn't show it. Instead, she fell back against him with a moan,
carefully keeping her eyes down on his invisible hands as he molested her, though her bound
hands also started seeking out more of Harry.

After a few seconds, she found it, and he, too, groaned as long, thin fingers settled around his
dick and started pumping. "Merlin, you're hard," she whispered, "If Draco ever got like this
in his life, I'd marry Weasley."
"Maybe I am Weasley," Harry growled in her ear, "with a voice-changing charm. Think of
that?"

She shuddered, but said nothing. Nor, Harry was quite amused to note, did her fingers stop.
In fact, her grip tightened slightly.

So Pansy thinks Ron's cute... I could use that later.

"But I'm not," Harry said after a second, his right hand now slipping down to pull up the front
end of her skirt, then changed his mind and just went under the top to grab at her dripping
genitals again.

She groaned lightly as soon as his hand touched her again. This continued, his left hand
working her chest while his right circled her whole cunt or slid a fingertip up and down the
girl's slit, for several minutes while the grunting behind Harry grew progressively louder and
more rapid.

Somehow, he doubted that any of them, as Fogged as they had been, had lasted more than a
few minutes, which meant this was probably round... four or so for most of them.

But he was certain Pansy had not yet had an orgasm. "Let it go," he murmured, taking a
lesson from Lilith and licking the girl's ear lightly as his hands continued to work, "That's it...
enjoy it. Feel me, enjoy the pleasure... that's it..."

A moment later, Pansy shuddered, then went limp in his arms.

Harry, had he not already had one hand around her and one in her groin, would probably have
dropped the girl. But his hold was good, so he was able to set her face-down on the
battlement once again. He gave her a thirty second count to cool off, then asked, "Has Draco
ever done anything for you? Are you a virgin?"

The girl hesitated, then shook her head. "He never has... but I'm not. I can't get him hard."

"I think it's because he likes extra... meat," Lilith whispered in Harry's ear, her hand snaking
around his neck. "I came to check on you. Good progress, Master. I'll be in your bed late
tonight. Sorry... duty calls!"

As soon as Harry knew the Succubus was gone again (how had he not noticed her presence,
then, if he could feel her leaving, he wondered idly), he repeated her first statement, then
followed it with, "Haven't you noticed? I'm pretty sure he's not eyeing the blokes, he's
looking at Millicent."

There was a quiet gasp from Harry's right, where Draco still lay.

Pansy could not have heard, for she, too, gave a shock. "Well- well if that's true," she hissed,
"we're through, because I'm not getting fat for him!"

Harry grinned. Maybe Ron had a chance, then. "I'd never ask that," Harry said softly, voice
still far too low for his normal one, "I mean, I can't say I like you, but you shouldn't change
for anyone."
"You still... made me cum," Pansy groaned, her body shuddering again in the afterglow
despite her distraction and pronouncement.

"I did," Harry agreed, hand now sliding up the inside of her thigh, "So he's never gone down
on you, or anything?"

This time, Pansy didn't hesitate. "Never... said it was disgusting, that people peed from there.
Idiot."

Knowing, as she apparently did not, that Draco had heard every word, Harry smiled widely.
"That's alright... you'll know what it's like in a moment. Just stay there- again, don't move."

Harry didn't have the heart to tell the desperate girl that he simply didn't want to be anywhere
Draco had been. He didn't even particularly care that the girl wasn't a virgin, so someone
might have had her this way, but at least it wasn't Draco.

Still, she was lust-addled enough that Harry felt he could trust her, so he, still hanging free (or
standing proudly) between the legs, knelt behind the girl and leaned in, using his hands on
her arse and thumbs to pull apart the folds giving off the powerful musk.

He leaned forward, inhaling... It smells like wet dog, sort of, but not as bad. Huh.

But he didn't dive in. Instead, his head moved a little lower to lick at the inside of her left
thigh, where most of the girl's juices still glistened.

She jumped and squirmed, but did not resist.

He continued to lap slowly upward, contemplating the taste, until he reached the girl's furry
snatch, then switched legs to move faster up the dryer side. Daphne, if I had to give her a
flavor, would have been... cherry cordial, maybe. Pansy tastes more like cream cheese. Is that
normal?

A moan and corresponding shiver from the delectable flesh (no matter Pansy's other
attributes, Harry had to consider the engorged, dusky mons and labia with the thin strip of
oozing, vibrant pink between them, all mostly hidden by her thick, dark thatch, quite
appealing) pulled Harry's attention back to the task at hand: her pleasure, then his (or,
probably, both).

Both hands still kneading at Pansy's bare rump, the thumbs of each pulling at the outer folds
of her mons just slightly, Harry leaned in, feathering the tip of his tongue in little back-and-
forth motions, alternating vertical and horizontal, up the left side of her thick, swollen lips,
then down the right.

"Shit," he heard Pansy gasp as he finished the first lap, her knees already shaking at about the
height of Harry's elbows. Her arms slid further from where they had been resting since he had
released them to grip the outside edge of the parapet wall.

Harry smiled, then repeated the motion in reverse, before sucking the lips, as much as he
could get, into his mouth and laving them both.
"Shit," Pansy repeated, almost gasping. Harry was quite happy to realize her knees had
collapsed forward into the wall as he had done so, leaving her resting on her chest and
stomach alone, her school-uniform mary janes limp on the flagstones.

"Was that another one?" he asked quietly.

"Yrs," he thought he heard through her suddenly gasping breaths.

"You must really be wanting for attention, then, if you come that fast," Harry said with a
snort, then immediately buried his face into the warm, dripping snatch. His nose dug into her
folds while his tongue immediately sought out her clit for the first time and started lashing it,
as rapidly as he could, across the sensitive bud.

Pansy literally screamed, her body suddenly convulsing against the stones.

A distantly-registered shout of, "Get 'er, Draco!" distracted Harry for a brief moment, before
he latched on once again with even greater fervor, now focusing more on lapping up the
delicious flavor of the orgasmic juices that flowed out the teenage girl.

Harry continued through no fewer than three screaming, shaking orgasms, until Pansy said,
"P- Please! S- Stop! I need- I need a break! Please!"

He backed off quickly, though he did not stop. Instead, his hands, which had fallen still due to
his oral focus, started kneading at Pansy's arse while his head pulled back enough to ask,
"Really? You don't want another mind-shattering orgasm?"

"Not- not right at the moment," Pansy gasped, and even distracted by the torrent of fluids
running down her legs, Harry could see her chest heaving beyond the olive, though pale,
flesh before him.

"Alright," he shrugged, then released her to push himself to his feet. After he had done so, he
ordered, "Stay there, don't move. Just making sure the others will leave us alone for a bit
longer."

"L- longer?" he dimly heard the girl say, but his attention was already on the small orgy and
Draco, who had somehow shimmied himself out of the sitting position Harry had left him in,
but was still bound and gagged, and disillusioned, against the wall three meters or so away.
He sauntered casually over, seeing that the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad was quite involved
yet (even if they did show signs of slowing), Millicent and the Sixth-year girl now kissing
passionately with the sixth year on top, Crabbe beneath her plowing away at the older girl's
arse, while Goyle did Millicent's, and both girls either groped at the other's chests or jerked
off Montague and Warrington.

Harry quietly cast another Sticking charm- two, actually- on Draco to hold him in place,
amused that his position now left his own body blocking any view of what Harry was about
to do to Pansy, then thought better of it, and just Stunned him. A moment later, six more
Stunners flew out, then a seventh- somehow, Goyle's weight had knocked his final shot,
against Cassius Warrington, awry.
Hopefully, in their addled state, none of them would remember that each had lost
consciousness at the same time. Or, at least, within a few seconds of each other.

"Colloportus," he whispered one more time, this spell aimed at the Astronomy Tower's door,
before turning back to Pansy. "Now, Parkinson... I'm going to give you a choice in a moment.
Tell me, how many orgasms have you had tonight?"

She hesitated a moment, then quietly, still not looking in his direction, whispered, "Seven."

"Oh?"

She nodded against the stone, flushing even more than her panting body should have been in
the cold night air, "I- I d- I did it myself, earlier. I figured Draco wouldn't..."

"Ah. Well...I don't blame you. Still, seven good orgasms."

"S- Six. The first wasn't... erm..." she confessed, the blush deepening further.

"Ah," Harry repeated, stepping forward and, using his left hand, pushed his throbbing, aching
member between the folds of the girl's arse to lay along it. She shuddered beneath him even
while his right hand gently landed on the small of her back and slid it up, over the ruins of
her vest and shirt, then onto the side of her bare right breast. "Tell me, Parkinson... what's six
good orgasms worth, then?"

She was silent for a moment, her breathing calming slightly, then she replied, "I'll- I'll let you
do it inside. One time."

"No," Harry grinned slightly, now sliding his member up and down her crack at a leisurely
pace, just enough, he hoped, to keep them both excited, "I'm not interested in becoming a
father just yet, least of all with you."

"Please," she whimpered, "I want it inside, at least once. He- the one before- never did it
inside."

"No," he repeated, firmer this time, "I'm starting to wonder if you're just a slag. I mean,
you've been with someone else, want Draco- for whatever stupid reason- and want me, too?
How many have you been with, Parkinson?"

"I swear," she whispered, urgently, "It's just you and one other. I can't- I can't say who. I took
an oath, just like for you."

"But you haven't taken any oath yet, Parkinson," Harry reminded her. "And if you want this
cock," he slapped her left cheek with it once, then put it back, this time deliberately not
stroking, "You'll take that oath now. Never, ever to reveal who I am."

"I swear on my life," she said desperately, voice needy and so quick she almost stuttered,
"that I'll never tell any living soul who gave me the best orgasms of my life on this very
night, and who I let fuck me after. Just please, do it soon!"
Harry nodded. He was hardly an expert on magical oaths, but knew them to be as binding as
could be. If she said, if she revealed that he'd had her, she would, indeed, die.

At least, that was the theory.

He leaned forward so he was over her, now bending over the parapet himself, to whisper in
her ear while his left hand, still around his base, guided himself to just the right angle.

Thankful for the Muffliato he'd remembered to put up earlier, Harry whispered, "Scream all
you want," then pushed in.

Merlin, it was brilliant.

As lubricated as the girl had been, Harry was certain that she wouldn't provide any significant
pleasure at all (not that he wasn't randy enough to get off easily himself, if he wanted). As it
was, he slid in quickly and easily, all the way to the base, making both of them release loud
moans. "Fuck," he grunted after bottoming out, then immediately started pulling out achingly
slowly.

Dully, despite the razor focus of his mind on the spots where their bodies connected, Harry
noted that she was far smoother inside than Daphne, Marietta, Cho, or Lilith had been, but
her channel was short and tight, and utterly drenched.

"All- all the way," Pansy gasped, "So far in... You're huge. Who are you?"

"You'll find out," he murmured, then started sawing in and out, leisurely at first, but with
growing speed. In and out, until he was hammering Pansy back into the parapet with every
thrust,

Just one minute in, she screamed again.

Then almost immediately after, without slowing, Harry grabbed at her elbows and, worried
she would chafe enough to bleed, used them to pull her breasts (and the rest of her body) off
the stone, lifting her into the air.

He idly wondered, while continuing to pound into her relentlessly, what her tits looked like,
swinging in the night air like they undoubtedly were.

She came again, and this time, Harry was just able to notice her vaginal walls fluttering about
him in his own growing sensitivity.

He was close.

He wanted to do it inside, he'd had permission...

But no.

Not this time.

Instead, with just a few seconds left until he would explode, Harry forced himself out
completely and, using the hold he still had on the half-upright girl, flipped her around to face
him and forced her to her knees.

"Open your mouth," he growled, voice low and deep, commanding.

With glazed over, blissed-out eyes, Pansy Parkinson obeyed at once, without hesitation.

He slammed inside, only just able to keep from forcing his whole length into her mouth and
throat- which would probably make her vomit and thus ruin his mood- and cancelled his
disillusionment charm.

He continued to thrust half-way in even as his orgasm arrived, his seed, thick and hot,
spurting forth into Pansy's mouth in a rush.

She swallowed reflexively on the first gush, tried to hold back on the second and third, her
eyes wide and focused on the half of Harry's dick she could see, then gave up as it started to
leak out around her lips and started swallowing again.

Harry roared in ecstasy the whole while, though his eyes remained locked on the girl's face.

As she continued swallowing, eventually, her dark eyes moved up to his face as the flood
slowed.

He grinned as who, exactly, he was started to register.

The grin turned into a full-on smile as the acknowledgement turned to shame and horror.

"Ah, ah," he said even as she withdrew her mouth from his dick in disgust, "remember, you
can't tell anyone."

Pansy, though, didn't attempt to do so. Instead, she scrambled further away, covering only
part of her tits and groin with her hands, and started to wretch, likely to force herself to
vomit.

"Incarcerous," he murmured lazily, hand on his wand once again, "Now, Pansy, calm down.
You won't die. Also, think about this- think about how you felt just a few seconds ago. A few
minutes ago. Yes, that was all me. I'll let you go, and you can throw up if you want, in a
minute. But for now, I need you to listen. Can you do that? I figure you still owe me, since
I'm still six orgasms up."

Her horrified expression paled almost chalk-white at once, and she grew very, very still.

"Good," he smiled, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees, still half-naked and
semi-erect, glistening dick hanging free while he idly twirled his wand in his right hand, his
eyes still locked on hers. "Now... you swore an oath. If it's that bad, tell someone, and die.
Simple solution. But I have a different point of view, and maybe a suggestion. Forget about it.
Or, no, don't forget about it- that'd be cruel- but forget this animosity you seem to have
toward me and mine. I never did anything to you, and anything I supposedly did to your
precious 'Dark Lord' I did before I could talk. So you tell me if it was really my fault. No,
what I instead want you to do is remember how good you felt just a bit ago. That's what a
'real man' can do. Leave Draco, if he can't do the job. Find someone else. Think about what
you want and need out of life, instead of what other people say you should want or need.
That's all, suggestion over."

Harry stood, then, and casually turned to get dressed, closing his trousers carefully over his
still half-engorged member. As he threw the invisibility cloak over himself once again, he
turned a final time to Pansy. "Oh, yeah, another thing- Draco was watching, for most of it. He
still never did get hard, even watching Millicent. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he's just totally
unable. Still, I suppose if he's who you really want... Finite. Finite. Finite."

Harry continued cancelling his spells, one after the other, leaving only the various Stunners in
effect along with the Silencing Charm, until even the door was unlocked. "One last thing," he
said through the gauzy cloth to the silent girl, who had only just reached out a tentative hand
to her own clothing, "I have great blackmail on all of you. Seriously, back off me and my
friends, or you'll regret it. I'm sure your precious 'Dark Lord' will be very happy to hear-
especially from me- what we just did, and how you're all very busy creating the next
generation of Pure-bloods... instead of being useful."

He gave a little chuckle as the door closed, then headed as quickly as he could while still
remaining quiet, down the stairs.

He had an appointment with a bed, and eventually, a Succubus still that evening.

Harry half-expected a scolding from Hermione when he reached the Gryffindor Common
Room.

What he found, however, was something far different.

Scattered here and there around the room were thirty-six students, ranging from fourth up
through seventh years, in eighteen pairs, occupying the couches, the larger, soft armchairs,
and in three couples, two of the thicker rugs close to the still-roaring fireplace, and two on a
table. Or, more accurately, with the boy sitting on the edge and the girl standing between his
knees.

Harry blinked, then shook his head. No one was actually naked, no one was actively
shagging, but there were a lot of hands in what McGonagall would, no doubt, call shameful
places, and which their new 'Headmistress' would probably expel people for.

Then he shook his head, too spent- for the moment- to concern himself with those involved,
aside from noting several people. Parvati Patil snogging Dean Thomas, for one. Fay Dunbar
with Seamus Finnegan. And Neville with... Alicia Spinnet.

Huh, Harry thought, I didn't think he'd ever go for her. Then again, I do know Alicia isn't that
picky about the age of people she's with... see Ron, last week.

Then he continued across the room as quietly and unobtrusively as he could, and went up the
boys-side stairs.
He had just opened the door to his dormitory room when he stopped, frozen, then shut it most
of the way again.

For on Ron's bed, he and Hermione Granger, too, were locked in a passionate embrace.

At once, Harry wanted to shut the door completely, back away, pretend he'd never seen
anything.

Yet... On the other side of that door, laying almost completely atop Ron, was Hermione
Granger, clad only in an emerald-green bra- and school-regulation skirt (and only those, or
perhaps her knickers, still). If nothing else, as long as he watched, he might see more of his
bushy-haired, yet very attractive best friend.

Slowly, the door creaked further open under the slightest pressure of his hand.

Ron glanced that way briefly, and Harry froze, but at once the ginger's right hand, which had
been resting at the small of Hermione's back, slid down, over her raised arse, and up beneath
the hem of the skirt, lifting it slightly.

She groaned, "God, Ron..." but did not tell him to stop. Instead, Harry, through the wider,
almost fully-open door, could easily make out that his best mate's other hand was fondling
Hermione's bra-clad chest, while her own hands tangled in the long, orange hair.

Their lips only separated long enough for one or the other to say something breathlessly
while they continued to grope at each other, Ron's hands more or less staying in position,
kneading gently, while Hermione writhed slowly on top of him.

Needless to say, despite just emptying himself into Pansy, Harry was rock-hard again.

It was not even a conscious decision to slip through the door and, with a very soft Silencio
cast upon his bed, to climb into it under the cloak and free himself to wank while he watched.

"Ron," Hermione eventually gasped, pulling away from their locked lips briefly, "I... are
you... sure? I mean, if I... with Harry? Too, I mean? It won't make you-"

"Merlin, no," Ron growled, "'Course it won't. I won't force you, though. If you want to be
with Harry and not..."

Harry, on the bed across the room, swallowed. Did Hermione want to be with him, more? Did
he want her to? Or did what she had said a few days previous hold true, did she really love
them both equally, want them both?

If so... how would he handle that?

Could he?

Bodies, naked and sweating beneath or before him, on their backs or knees or both, flashed
through his memory.
Daphne Greengrass. Lilith (again and again). The unknown girl in the broom closet. Cho
Chang. Marietta... whatever her last name was. And now, Pansy Parkinson.

He'd 'been with' each of them, yet still wanted Hermione just as badly as before- maybe
worse. But did he 'love her'? Of course... as friends. Perhaps a sister, maybe. But he certainly
still wanted to shag her rotten, preferably repeatedly.

That wasn't a brotherly feeling, right?

And Ron... surely, Hermione knew, rather than just suspecting, that they'd both been shagging
several people in the last week.

Did she not care?

"I do," Hermione eventually said softly, but firmly, "I want you both. If- If you'll have me,
that is. I don't care what your parents say. Or mine, for that matter. Or those... those other
girls."

Harry grinned in time with his best mate, who, despite the undress of their other best friend
atop him, gave a solemn smile, "Alright, then," Ron said, "well... as far as you want to go,
then, and no farther. You said..."

"I know," Hermione whispered, "And... no shagging. Yet. But I think I want... more. Can you
promise me you won't force it?"

"Force what, exactly?" Ron asked breathlessly, as Hermione sat up over his knees, then
started scooting down the bed.

Hermione, though, said nothing. Instead, her hands slid down Ron's bare chest, then as soon
as they reached them, slipped under the hem of his pyjamas.

"H- Hermione," Ron groaned, but she still did not stop.

Instead, she pulled up, then out, and down, freeing Ron's penis completely. But Hermione,
eyes still locked on the turgid shaft, which Harry, now that he was actually allowing himself
to look, would have put at a full seven inches and barely more than an inch in diameter,
placed her open left palm, fingers facing Ron's chin, down lightly upon it.

He gave what seemed to be an involuntary thrust of his hips, which made Hermione jump
slightly, then his eyes flickered closed, and he gave a deep, pleased sigh. "Feels nice," he
murmured, as he let a small smile spread across his face even while he relaxed back against
the pillow to give Hermione free access.

Remarkably trusting, Harry thought idly as he watched her fingers trail up and down over
Ron's member, given how they fight all the time.

But Hermione must not have been feeling very vengeful, for, with wide eyes and shallow
breaths, she continued exploring her- boyfriend? Had they, then, decided to get together more
formally, as he had suspected they might since the previous year?
Slowly, so as not to alert either of his best friends to his voyeurism, Harry's left hand started
creeping down to adjust himself in his trousers, while his right felt in the pocket of the same
for the handle of his wand. "Silencio," he whispered, as quietly as he could, trying to keep the
area of the spell only around his own bed. He did not want to risk missing Hermione's husky,
breathless voice, even if what she was saying wasn't meant for his ears.

Once the spell had fallen into place, Harry's right hand joined his left, and a moment later, his
own member was standing free and tall, hidden only by the Invisibility Cloak. He exhaled in
relief- his pants had been getting very tight lately, especially when aroused- and relaxed back
against the wall, his legs across his bed, while he watched his friends.

He didn't even notice when his own hands started tracing paths along his dick that mirrored
Hermione's across the room.

When she shifted from light tracing and prodding to wrapping her hand around the long rod
and actually stroking it from top to bottom, alternating gentle tugs and sliding, Ron gave an
actual groan of pleasure, and Harry switched to stroking himself, too.

At first, Hermione was hesitant and unsure, but she was now switching her attention rapidly
between what her hands were doing between Ron's legs and the ginger's face, which was as
blissful as Harry had ever seen it, equal to, if not surpassing, the just-shagged-out look he'd
had when Harry had been urged to shag Marietta right after Ron had fallen unconscious.

"Does that feel good?" Hermione asked, the quirk of her lip telling Harry very emphatically
that she knew it did, but wanted to hear Ron say it.

"Yeah," Ron murmured, "Feels amazing."

Then Hermione hesitated. "As... as good as your... your 'partners'?"

Harry winced, but Ron, heedless, shook his head. "'Nah. Great, but not that good, and none of
them have... well, done this. Except Lilith."

"Oh," she said quietly. But, to Harry's surprise, she didn't stop, or even show much in the way
of indignation or other negative emotion. "Does it feel as good as when she...?"

"Yeah, does actually," Ron replied, "I'm not sure... why, exactly."

One of Hermione's eyebrows, the one facing Harry, rose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, she's," he suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable, and very aware that he was
completely vulnerable to a friend with a known temper and vindictive streak, "I mean, er..."

"You mean," Hermione finished for him, and, judging by her tone, Harry felt she was telling
Ron more what he was thinking rather than asking, "that because Lilith is a succubus, you
expected her to feel better than a human girl?"

Ron nodded, weakly, after a moment's hesitation.

A moment later, Hermione did, too. Then she whispered, "Thank you for your honesty, Ron.
I'll... try to learn quickly. Let me show you part of what I've learned recently."

Then, to Harry's (and, no doubt, Ron's) immense shock, her head sank low until the bushy
curtain of her hair covered every pleasant view. But, judging from Ron's ecstatic expression,
she had just taken him into her mouth.

"Pretty sexy," Lilith whispered from outside the cloak, making Harry jump, then she lifted a
hem to start climbing inside.

Once she had, the Succubus wormed her way onto Harry's lap, his attention thoroughly
divided between watching what little he could see of Hermione sucking Ron off, and the half-
nude (which was still strange to him, since she was usually completely nude around him),
almost child-like creature climbing atop him. Then she gently pulled his hands away and
sank down onto his member, before pulling his hands underneath her arms to her small chest,
and leaned against him with a sigh, slowly pushing herself up and down his shaft with her
thighs.

"That's nice," she murmured, almost limp against him, "Good sex instead of horrible images."

Indeed, it did feel amazing, for Lilith was as tight and warm as ever, and literally dripping
with the liquids of her arousal, which Harry felt quite matched how turned on he was. But...

"How did it go?" he asked softly, turning a little more of his attention from his best friends to
the new one on his lap.

"So-so," she muttered, sounding almost disappointed, "I got everything set up, but I couldn't
execute. And I'll, unfortunately, need you or one of them," with a hand pointing at his friends,
"for the last bit, because I don't think my 'proof' will work from me. I couldn't get the
memory out for my test run."

"Er... okay?"

"Don't worry about it, Master," Lilith exhaled, now sounding quite exhausted, "Just make
love to me and then sleep. I might sleep- actually sleep- myself, as tired as I am."

"I thought you said you don't."

She shrugged, ground her tiny arse against his hips, and started lifting with a little more
vigor, which made him sigh in content pleasure as well. "I don't, but we have something
similar at least. Don't need it as often- every month or so- but we need a mental rest, if
nothing else. How was your Slytherin tart?"

"Surprisingly good shag," he answered after a moment, and was just as surprised that he
meant it. Pansy had been pretty sexy, once he'd gotten a bit of a look underneath her
conservative school robes, and eager enough before she knew it was him.

And after...
Harry grinned, "She was horrified when she found out it was my jizz in her throat, though.
Tried to spit it out, but I wouldn't let her."

"Heh," Lilith murmured, bouncing faster now, "And your friend... she ever given fellatio,
before?"

"Not to my knowledge," Harry shook his head, pinching her nipples as he looked across the
room. "I'm... pretty close."

"That's fine," she answered, "Whenever you want. I'm satisfied, until you make us climax."

"I think you should do the work, my little pet," Harry cooed into her ear, "Tired or not, you're
the Succubus."

"Am I?" she answered coyly, "Well, in that case..."

And she suddenly started writhing and panting on his lap with a great deal more energy,
moaning and gasping his name.

Across the room, Ron's hand fell on Hermione's mane, but even in his own distraction at the
sudden increase in carnal pleasure he was feeling, Harry was glad he didn't try to control their
friend's motions. "H- Hermione-" Ron said, before he started to grunt and thrust, no doubt
into her mouth.

He heard a gag, but just one, and then quiet slurping. A cough, and a wet, sticky smacking of
lips, then Hermione sat up, one hand still idly stroking the now semi-flaccid member.

"I'll... well, that wasn't too bad," Hermione said, "But I should really be getting back to my
dorm. Good night, Ron."

A moment later, she was dressed and gone, with Lilith still riding Harry hard.

Just as his orgasm approached, Ron looked across at the seemingly empty bed and smirked,
"Pervert," then rolled over and pulled the covers up, not bothering to hide his penis
otherwise.

Harry had to admit it, as his own orgasm built, that he probably was. Even if he hadn't been
before Lilith (but he had chosen, whether in a moment of weakness or not, a Succubus to
fulfill his own pleasures), he certainly was now.

The Succubus fell back against him completely, hips gyrating radically as she rose and fell,
convincing Harry that he wouldn't last much longer, either. One hand slipped down Lilith's
glistening body and pinched her tiny clit lightly, while the other continued grasping at her
equally small chest, occasionally pinching, too, at the firm nipples.

She shuddered after a few moments, then gasped, throwing her head back onto his left
shoulder, her vaginal walls starting to spasm around him.

That was more than enough to put him, only moments away regardless, into a full-on climax
that made Harry grunt and almost fall over with the uncontrollable force he found himself
thrusting up into the little body with. Once again, he nearly whited out from the pressure he
felt being released.

When he came back to himself, Harry was lying next to the nude body of the Succubus, who
still glistened as she lay on her back with a content little smile playing on her pink lips, eyes
closed, and seemingly quite shagged-out herself. Gently, so as not to jostle the bed too much,
he, too, removed his clothes, threw them into the hamper at the foot of his bed, then
remembered to shut the curtain and put up a Silencing Charm.

Ron, though, was turned away and snoring quietly, so it was likely that, as the Invisibility
Cloak had fallen off the pair of them, he had seen nothing.

She really is beautiful, Harry thought, gazing down at his summoned servant. Idly, his hand
rose to her flat belly and began to caress.

"M'tired, Master," she murmured, "but if you want another round..."

"No, that's alright," he replied quietly, glancing down at his dick. It hadn't decreased in size as
much as he might have thought, and was still wet from their combined fluids, but it wasn't
even half-erect. "I'm fine, just enjoying looking at you, wanted to feel you, too. Do you
mind?"

She shook her head, the rose-colored locks bouncing with it, "No... you can keep going."

"Alright," he murmured, then spent the majority of the next hour tracing her body's lines,
contours, and shapes. Observing, now that he had experience to compare it to, how her small
mounded breasts slid to the side around the rib cage, but not as much as the larger girl's (and
even Cho was larger in the chest, slender and petite as she was) had.

How the area above her groin had just the tiniest little heart of equally pink, curly hair at the
top of the slit, which was slightly puffy and more pink than usual from their activities, but
which still smelt of... well, him, of course, and even from the side Harry could see a little of
his white seminal fluid leaking out, showing that Lilith had not absorbed it yet, but also the
scent of bubblegum. Appropriate, I guess. Bubblegum hair, bubblegum smell.

Her dainty fingers and toes, which were delicate but a little long on her short frame, and the
way her throat worked every half-minute or so to swallow what was probably her species'
equivalent of saliva.

"Feels nice, Master," Lilith whispered as he, even through the silenced curtains heard Dean,
Seamus, and Neville come in and argue briefly before heading to bed, "There's erogenous
zones all over a woman's body."

"Oh," he said softly, "I didn't know that. So not just br- breasts and-"

She smiled, eyes still closed, and shook her head again. "No, there's literally hundreds, but
not every zone is effective on every woman. You have to explore- like you are right now- and
experiment to find out what's best for each partner, but many have certain ones in common.
The obvious ones, of course. Me... I am an erogenous zone."
He echoed her grin, but continued stroking her lightly, including, now, the occasional graze
of his fingernails. "Have you ever... no, I know you have. Sorry, stupid question. Um... do
you mind if I... taste you?"

She shook her head at once and opened her thin legs to present her flower to him. Harry
watched, fascinated, as his cum slid up from the pool beneath her, up the slit, into her gently
throbbing hole, and vanished.

"That was weird," he admitted, "but sexy as hell."

"Glad to be of service, Master," she cooed, then shifted her hips slightly.

He got the hint, and moved down to the end of the bed, then leaned down and in. He sniffed,
then dove in, getting immediately to work.

Yep, definitely bubblegum. Huh.

Unfortunately, while Harry was partially- for he felt strangely energized, even if Lilith herself
was tired- hoping to wow his servant with his new-found expertise, she did not writhe or
groan or... well, not quickly.

Instead, she only cooed and put one little hand on his head, "Feels nice..."

Twenty minutes later, Harry's tongue was about to give out. It wasn't used to this kind of
exercise at all, and especially not this much.

And he was hard, now, too!

But Lilith finally jerked silently, and her eyes flew open in a silent cry. She spurted, just a
little, of the same bubblegum flavor into his mouth, and Harry lapped it up eagerly, before
sitting up with a satisfied smile.

"Don't- get too- cocky, M- Master," Lilith smiled gently, her violet eyes turning down to him
after a few seconds, "You took a- a long time, getting me- there. But it felt great, so you are
learning."

"Thanks," he said, licking his lips and wiping his chin with his hand, "Um..."

"I said I'm always ready, Master, if you want some," Lilith replied when she followed his
eyes down to between his own legs, "so just use me. You don't have to ask, I'm never going to
say no. Unless you want to go out and find someone from downstairs, there's still several
down there, mostly asleep."

Harry thought about saying no, but...

There were a few down there he wouldn't mind...

But no, for now, it was late. "No, I think I'm just going to lay here," then crawled up beside
the succubus and pulled her tight against him, "dreaming about tomorrow."
She smiled, leaned up to press a kiss to his lips as one hand gripped his member but didn't
stroke even once, "Sometimes waiting is worth it. Good night, Master."

"Good night, Lilith."

 Ch. 5: Hermione's Study
Chapter Summary

It's finally happening. Hermione Granger is about to go 'all the way' for the first time.
If only she knew how much it would change her, she might have not been so eager.
Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley for that matter, are both very glad she is. Even if that
very willingness is only partially encouraged by a certain Succubus.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 5: Hermione's Study

He woke up earlier than he expected, but still later than usual, to the sound of Ron's call,
"Harry, get up, mate! I'm heading down to breakfast, and Hermione'll- er..."

"Be annoyed, if I'm not down soon?" he finished, smirking at what he imagined was an
exceptional amount of embarrassment over what the girl had done to Ron (especially if Ron
was right about Harry watching, which the black-haired boy had been). "Tell her to relax, I
have the whole morning off. I'll be done- er, down- in a little bit."

Ron snorted, muttered, "Yeah, done with your friend. Morning, Lilith. See you later, Harry."

Then the door shut, and the room was quiet.

Only, when Harry finally got around to opening his eyes and glancing about the still-closed
curtains (the Silencing Charm must have worn off during the night, unless Ron had learned to
cancel them finally), the Succubus was not to be seen.

Then there was a quiet knock on the door, followed immediately by a mental push, It's me,
Master- get dressed before you open the door.
Harry blinked, then threw off the covers, noting that the small divot where Lilith had been
laying when he'd finally drifted off was still there, but cool, as started hunting for clean
clothes and called out, "Just a second!"

Is there someone there, Harry attempted to ask mentally, but there wasn't a reply.

I don't know, he concluded, maybe the communication is strictly one-way. Or maybe I'm
doing it wrong.

Three minutes later, he jerked the door open, then froze.

Standing in front of him was, indeed, Lilith. It could be no one else. Except, maybe, Don't-
Call-Me-Nymphadora Tonks, an Auror and member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix
he'd met the previous summer.

At least, he hoped it was.

Because either of those two would be vastly preferable to who it looked like was there.

"Um... P- Professor Umbridge? What can I- uh... do for, well, you?"

"Hem, hem," the dumpy woman (Lilith? Still, Harry hoped!) simpered, then gave one of her
patented, sickly-sweet smiles, "Oh, just a word, Mr. Potter. May I come inside? Of course I
may- I am the Headmistress! Step aside, boy!"

And she pushed right past, forcing Harry to step quickly out of the way.

Then, against his pounding heart's better judgment, he pushed the door closed, sealing
himself in with... her.

Fortunately, no sooner had he done so than Umbridge's form melted away, down into the
adorably cute and sexy, scantily-clad Succubus he was used to.

Swaying slightly on his feet at the sudden drop in tension, Harry let out a long sigh. "Don't do
that," he growled, grateful his hand was still on the door to steady himself.

Lilith giggled, "Sorry, Master- I needed a convincing test. Since you were clearly expecting
me, your reaction was genuine, right? How was my performance?"

"Spot-on," he growled again, shaking his head, "Nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Good," Lilith said confidently, "Then Phase Three is ready to go off tonight, like I planned.
Phase Four should be right before your finals. O.W.L.s, right?"

Harry nodded, watching, as fascinated as ever, while Lilith's clothes melted away into pink
smoke, revealing her completely.

"Come on, play with me, Master- get that horrid woman out of both our heads, if you don't
mind. Then you should probably go and join your friends... and maybe study. I hear that's
important."
Harry snorted, but did as she asked, even if getting Umbridge from his mind was the primary
purpose. He stepped forward, pulling the girl close enough for her shorter arms to just reach
his zipper, then ordered, "Alright, little one... how about you show me what you've learned
about adult kisses."

"O- Oh," she suddenly went very shy, glancing up at him demurely as her violet eyes faded to
a deep, almost pine green and her pink bob changed to a single, honey-brown side-tail, "A-
Alright, Mas- Master."

Then she sank to her knees slowly, and started tugging at his fly.

Too quickly, he was free, half-erect, and she was tugging slightly, gently, with one hand while
the other still worked little fingers on the button.

Harry leaned against the door, smiling down, and groaned quietly as she took him, now
completely hard, into her tiny little mouth and started to suck.

But she only bobbed on him for a few seconds before withdrawing with a pop, then looking
up at him plaintively while she still stroked with her other hand, "How's that, Master? Did I
learn good?"

"Yes," he murmured, then glanced downward.

She, like he, must have been quite aroused at the young-looking form on her knees before
him, because there was a growing puddle between the succubus' knees. "On the bed, then,
pet. If you want more of it, you can have it."

She obeyed quickly, but only half-way, scrambling up and starting to climb up into the bed- it
was a little over knee-high for her- before Harry's longer, rapid steps brought him close
enough to grip her around the waist with both hands. "Bend over," he ordered, and at once,
she put her hands on the bed below.

A moment later, he pushed inside her dripping channel with another grunt, all the way to the
bottom. He hadn't been so deep inside the Succubus since their first, long night, and it felt as
amazing as ever. As good, in fact maybe better, than the subdued flesh of Pansy Parkinson
the night before, for all that taking her had been more an exercise in control and power than
pleasure for him.

"Ugh," Lilith grunted as he slammed home, then softer as he did it again, "Not- not so hard,
M- Master, please!"

He was gentler- just a little- on the next push, but even harder on the one after, making Lilith
squeal in delight, "Oh, M-Master!" she cried softly, "Y- Yes, harder!"

After that, Harry did not hold back, and, like he'd done and learned to appreciate those first
few times he'd had sex, he pounded into the tight hole as quickly and as hard as he could
stand to, until, less than even two minutes later, he exploded with a roar, his climax so strong
that he, too, fell to his knees, still clutching Lilith, who fell back against him, twitching, as he
did so.
"Still got it," she eventually murmured, then flipped around to start licking his scrotum,
penis, and a little from the floor- from the floor- clean, before rising up with a satisfied smirk.
Then she kissed Harry- he was glad that, this time, he couldn't taste any trace of himself- and
stood the rest of the way. "Alright, Master, you really should get going. I'm going to be out of
the castle most of the day- paperwork for my new identity- but you really should study. Try
not to focus on shagging until after dinner, if you can help it."

Harry nodded numbly, and watched his nude little servant, with a drip of his semen still
running down her leg- (for his position behind her as she'd stood had shown that she clearly
had not absorbed that particular dose) vanish from sight under her own form of invisibility,
then fluttered to the window, opened it, flew out, and closed it again.

Then he struggled to his feet, feeling rather weak-kneed- he hadn't had that rapid an orgasm
in ages, including his first one with Lilith- and tucked himself back away before freshening
up and heading down to breakfast.

A breakfast that, all told, was surprisingly normal. No one flirted with Harry (much), no one
fondled him beneath the table, no one...

Well, did much of anything, except study. Most of Gryffindor's fifth and seventh years were
busily cramming for their end-of-year exams by this point, as their O.W.L.s were literally just
around the corner: a week and a half away. Umbridge's attentions on the school had seemed
to drift, and in small part, the student body had gotten back to something approaching
normal, though each was wary about crossing any of the new Educational Decrees.

Instead, at least in Harry's classes, Umbridge was never in her DADA class, and he only
heard or saw the woman briefly- and she ignored him entirely- either leaving her classroom
or coming back, ever since Lilith had first mind-dived the woman and sent an illusion in her
place.

For that matter, he realized, is the one I'm seeing even really Umbridge? It's not like anyone
ever wants to get close enough to brush up against her. Just thinking about it makes me want
to wretch.

Harry shook his head as he headed up to his bedroom from the nearly empty Great Hall,
preparing to head for the library until lunch, and then his only two classes of the day on
Thursdays, Double Potions (as always, with Slytherin), and double History of Magic, with
Hufflepuff. A good time, in other words, to study.

Harry felt a moment of panic set in, before quashing it down. True, he hadn't been putting in
the effort Hermione, no doubt, expected of him. His parents, either, come to think of it... not
that he could say for sure, as he could barely remember them.

Would he be alright? No doubt, Umbridge or Fudge would do their best to remove him from
the school if his scores were sub-par...

Then again, did he care? As long as he got the requisite 3 O.W.L.s to keep his wand when
leaving- he'd checked very carefully with Hermione about that earlier in the year- did he
honestly care what Umbridge or Fudge did?
Harry shook his head, threw the last of his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder,
passing Dean on the way out with a nod, and skipping every other stair as he headed for the
library. No, I really don't. I can always just take my wand and head... well, to MACUSA if
nowhere else. I'm sure I can make a place for myself somewhere. Probably without even
riding on my 'fame'. If I have to.

Harry's thoughts grew slightly darker as he moved down the three floors and half-way across
the Castle, on a well-travelled path that, again because of Hermione, he felt that he could
navigate in his sleep.

There were no free tables when he arrived, but Harry was not perturbed. He could always just
check books out, no matter the disbelieving stares that Madam Pince gave him whenever he
tried. He just had to find several things.

Of course, the magic of the Hogwarts Library meant that, as long as books were not removed
from the Castle itself, a temporary spare could always be made for reading and study, so he
could find anything if he tried hard enough.

... And maybe enlisted help, though Hermione was not in the library due to her own Ancient
Runes class.

Still, as Harry made his way into the stacks, things weren't hopeless. Several Ravenclaws
were also there, including Cho if he could get her away from her friends (for help with
finding books, of course, though more, er, extracurricular activities wouldn't go amiss later),
and there were also a trio of Hufflepuffs Harry knew fairly well: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie
MacMillan, and Kevin Entwhistle, a member of Hufflepuff's Quidditch team.

... Not that he could play against him any more, so Harry was trying very hard not to care.

"Hey, gents, mind if I take a seat here?" Harry asked as he approached, indicating the seat
across from Ernie and next to Justin.

All three boys glanced up from the pages they were perusing, then shared a glance. After a
moment, Ernie announced, "Of course not, Potter. You won't find any enemies in Hufflepuff,
not anymore. Right, guys?"

Justin, who was also a member of the DA, nodded at once, immediately sliding one of his
books over to give Harry more room. Kevin hesitated, then nodded, turning his attention back
to his study.

"Thanks," Harry said, dropping his backpack in the empty chair to hold it, "Just gotta go find
a couple books. Be back in a moment."

It was almost strange, thought Harry as he stretched two and a half hours later, to be spending
time with people not just in his circle of friends, but outside his House, in Hogwarts.

Not that any of the three were annoying, or rude, or anything.

Ernie, despite being rather pompous on occasion (his announcement that he believed Harry
and Dumbledore's story about Voldemort being back earlier in the year, for example), was
quite friendly and helpful. Justin, it turned out, was descended from Muggle nobility, and was
a wealth of information about recent history, and someone who also made a point during the
summers to catch up on movies (though he was saddened that Harry had no idea about any of
them, something Justin vowed to fix if he ever had the chance). Kevin Entwhistle, it turned
out, had a sister a year younger, Annabelle, who Harry had never met. He was certainly the
shyest of the three, at least around Harry, but that wasn't all that shocking: He, alone of the
four, was not a member of Dumbledore's Army, and therefore did not know Harry as well.

Still, between the four of them, Harry felt he had made good progress on reviewing DADA
(not that he would need help there, but he was always willing to answer the others’
questions), Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Charms, something Justin found
himself reveling in as a subject.

He was feeling quite a bit less stressed about the upcoming exams going into lunch, and even
all the way through it as he, Hermione, and Ron chatted about normal school things.

Potions, however, was a different story.

The familiar- all too familiar- spike of apprehension was washed away by confusion when
Snape was not present in the classroom after the door slid quietly open to allow them in.

Instead, there was a familiar-looking woman with long, wavy dark hair, a fairly angular,
beautiful (if slightly lined by age) heart-shaped face, and...

"You," he roared, a moment behind Neville, who he had followed in.

His wand rose, right alongside his friend's- all four of them. A moment later, the few students
who'd been ahead of them in the queue into the room gasped, then followed suit.

Behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione, almost all of the fifth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors
were in an even more heightened state of confusion.

Harry, though, suddenly felt only rage.

Rage which intensified as the woman's own wand flew from deep blue robes into her left
hand and flicked.

Her eyebrow raised as his, Neville's, Ron's, Hermione's, and half of the four other student's in
the rooms wands fell to the ground at their respective feet. Before Harry could begin to
question why this woman, this woman of all people was in the castle, why this woman had
only disarmed six people with one twitch of her wand instead of killing indiscriminately,
Neville gave another roar of fury and charged.

Again, the wand flicked, the other eyebrow raised, and Neville skidded to a halt, lurching
forward on the last few inches as his feet were apparently frozen to the floor. "I will
appreciate it," the woman announced in a firm, nearly monotone voice, "If I am not attacked
each and every time you see me over the remainder of today's lesson, or any future time in
which you might see me."

"Lesson?" roared Ron, "Why would we take lessons from you, Lestrange?"

This time, the woman's eyebrows, which were still raised, lowered into a carefully-schooled
expression, but not one of fury or rage. It was only then that Harry began to think that
something might be wrong.

"For one thing, Mr... Weasley, I presume, I have not had the name of "Lestrange" in my life. I
was born Andromeda Black, and was a cousin of your friend's godfather."

Harry noticed several people around him gasp as his jaw, likewise, dropped open when the
woman's eyes unmistakably moved to Harry for a moment.

Not many people knew that Sirius Black, currently escaped non-convict (thank you very
much) of Azkaban Prison, was Harry's godfather.

Now, though, it seemed the secret was well and truly out.

"Furthermore," she continued, stowing her wand back up into what Harry suspected was a
wrist-mounted holster, "my last name is now Tonks. I believe at least you three," she gestured
to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, "are familiar with my daughter, Nymphadora."

Harry blinked. Familiar, indeed! Tonks'- er, 'Dora's' mother was this woman, who so closely
resembled...

Andromeda sighed, then pointed toward their feet, "You may as well pick up your wands and
enter- peacefully. I, like your regular instructor in this class, will tolerate no foolishness when
there is brewing to be done. It simply isn't safe. However... yes, I am the sister of two people
that some members of this class will know."

Harry followed, numb, as Neville took a seat front and center, as if to protect the other
students, while never taking his eyes off the woman. He was still glaring, though much less
hatefully than Harry might have expected.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, gesturing to Neville, then with an apologetic look, took the
place at his side. She immediately leaned over to the other boy and, while pulling out her
supplies and potions book, started whispering furiously in his ear.

Ron grunted, equally quietly, "We should split up to provide cover, if we can. Yeah?"

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. If this woman was going to attack students, it was best if they
were able to cover as many of the students as possible. Ron, then, took the right front desk
with Lavender Brown, cutting off Parvati Patil. While Parvati gave a little huff, her friend did
not seem nearly as bothered, instead flushing slightly and shooting the dark-skinned girl a
wink, which made her giggle.

Harry rolled his eyes- clearly, despite the DA's attentions, they were not aware of the possible
situation. But at least, he hoped, they could be counted on once- if- things went south.
That, though, left him sitting alone while several students entered past him, and the only open
seat in the front row belonged to...

Draco Malfoy.

Harry snorted, then dropped his bag next to the chair. "Malfoy," he smirked, remembering
quite vividly the humiliation he had scored upon the blonde boy just the previous night.

The blonde boy stiffened, not bothering to look in Harry's direction or respond verbally.
Instead, he went about preparing his own things with mechanical motions, seemingly barely
cognizant of what he was doing.

Harry's grin widened, then fell away as his attention returned- partially, for he dared not
lower his guard to Malfoy at any time- to the woman at the front of the classroom.

"Before we begin, then, just to clear up any confusion you may be experiencing. As I said
earlier, I am not Bellatrix Lestrange, though we share an unmistakable family resemblance:
she is my sister. I was disowned from the Black family for daring to ignore a betrothal
agreement and marrying the person I wanted to, a muggle-born."

Several people, including Malfoy, sneered, but Harry glanced back to see that, indeed,
Daphne Greengrass was not.

"I am related, through the Black family, to two people in this room. Still, it is somewhat
coincidental that it is those two which know who I am the best, I would think, one through
our other sister, who is his mother, and one through my daughter, who is an acquaintance of
one Mr. Potter."

"You're no aunt of mine," Draco growled nearly quietly enough not to be heard.

The woman, though, did not react with anger. Instead, one eyebrow raised again, and she
replied, "As I said, I was disowned. The blood does not lie, however, nor does the strength
and nature of my magic. I am a pure-blood as old as any, for what that is worth, and I will
brook no disrespect in my classroom. That goes for all students, of any House, between each
other, or the faculty. In return, you will each be treated as the young adults you aspire to be."

Harry swallowed, then nodded in time with most of the rest of the class.

Clearly, she had been expecting an attack of some sort to react that quickly, but this was not a
witch he wanted to cross without a plan, and it seemed that, for now at least, she was not an
enemy. Besides... Tonks had spoken well of her parents.

Did that mean, then, that they were decent folks, despite where Mrs. Tonks had come from?

He would have to assume yes, until proven otherwise, he supposed.

The class proceeded apace. Andromeda Tonks, a Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical
Maladies and Injuries by profession, was a highly skilled potion-maker and a more than
adequate teacher. So adequate, in fact, that when the class ended, the entire Gryffindor
student population of the class, and no small amount of the Slytherins, stood and clapped for
a few seconds, making the older witch blush slightly.

"Thank you, that isn't necessary," she said with a raised hand, "Now, shoo. You have other
classes to attend, I'm sure."

Herbology, another double period with the Hufflepuffs, was abuzz throughout with the news
of the probably-substitute teacher for Potions.

So much so, in fact, that half-way through the period, Professor Sprout caused her wand to
eject the same cannon-blast noise that Dumbledore was known to produce and loudly cry,
"Enough! Enough! Fine! If it's what you want to talk about, then fine! Yes, Healer Tonks is
here for a few days while Professor Snape is ill. That is the whole story! Can we please get
back to work on the review? We were on, I believe, the properties of Bubotuber Pus. Yes, of
course, Miss Granger...?"

Harry had to suppress a grin. Neville frequently gave Hermione a run for her money (or out-
did her completely) in Herbology, but he was never going to get that one, since she had
experienced the effects of undiluted pus first-hand.

When Harry made it up to his dorm, straggling after Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean, near
eleven that night, it was to find his bed cold and empty.

Unfortunately, while he would have loved to spend some time with Lilith, he just didn't have
the energy, anyway. He was asleep within moments of his head hitting the pillow.

Friday. Double History with Ravenclaw, double Charms with Ravenclaw. Lunch. Defense
Against the Dark Arts, another double lesson (with Slytherin, as usual), but this time
Umbridge was present. She said nothing, instead watching silently and pointing at the board
above her until each and every student had entered. The only other motion she made was
glancing at her magical quill, which was taking down the names of each student as they
entered in her roll.

The class was spent in dead silence aside from the turning of pages.

At least now, Harry thought to himself, I can read something more useful in peace, since she
doesn't even walk around anymore. The fat lump.

Indeed, Hexes for the Vexed was quite an entertaining read, if nothing particularly useful for
deadly combat. At least he could think of several tactical, field-control uses for some for the
spells. That was something.

Saturday, and Sunday too, were spent in twelve hour cram sessions that, once again, left
Harry exhausted. Sunday night, at least, Lilith was laying, naked but invisible to all but him,
in his bed when he crawled in. "I'm so tired," he murmured, slipping beneath the covers in
nothing but his boxers. The weather had finally warmed up enough to permit that, at least; for
Harry hated the constraining feeling of pyjamas with long sleeves or pant legs, but the castle
was just too cold, even with the fireplace and thick blankets, in the winter to do anything else.

"Rest, then, Master," she whispered, snuggling into his stomach almost like a child, "I can do
the work, if you'd like... but I do need some recharging soon. I'm a few days behind, in case
you've forgotten."

Harry yawned over her head, then rolled onto his back. "G- Go ahead... if you want."

"Oh, I do," she cooed, but did not do more than reach a hand down to lightly grasp him. "And
in fact, I will, but first I have some news. I've been busy, and fortunately have gathered
enough semen to stay here for another day or two, but after that I'll have to have yours again,
tonight will just take the edge off, so to speak."

"Okay," Harry muttered, then lifted his head just enough to kiss the smaller creature, who had
just started to move her own over his in an effort to, he guessed, straddle him.

She froze, then kissed him back fervently. More so, really, than he had the energy for. She
seemed to sense that, and backed off immediately, choosing instead to pepper his own lips
with little feather-light kisses as her right hand continued stroking him to fully erect.

Even as tired as he was, it didn't take long, because it had been days since he'd even had one.

"So," the Succubus continued between kisses as she moved down his throat and onto his
chest, punctuating each word with another kiss or two, "Umbridge is about to fall. Turns out
she hasn't been to classes in a week, which means she was stealing from Hogwarts, which
means she was stealing from the Ministry. A whole week's wages, can you imagine? What
nerve! Then, the woman's started having an affair- with a student! The scandal!"

Harry's penis started to flag at once, just from thinking about that- that thing in a sexual light
at all.

"Sorry, Master," Lilith chuckled, then her head disappeared beneath the blanket. A moment
later, he was stiffening up again, as he gasped. Lilith licked him again, then pulled half his
length into her mouth and started stroking the lower while she sucked without bobbing.

That continued for a good minute, until Harry was nearly ready to pop again, before she lifted
her head and moved up to lay down on his chest, squirming her cunt down onto his length
with a sigh. "Mm, that's good. Thanks, Master, I really needed this."

She started sliding up and down his body slowly, reveling in the sensations they were giving
each other, while Harry's hands moved up and over to her to pull them a little closer. He
really did enjoy the feel of her small, firm chest against his, and the feel of her vagina was, of
course, nearly indescribable after such a long wait. How had he made it fifteen years when,
now, it seemed just three days was interminably long?

"Anyway, we just need to get her caught, now. Shouldn't be hard. I was thinking, the first day
of your exams, for maximum fun. Sound good?"
"Sure," Harry groaned, luxuriating in the bliss she was giving him without him having to
move more than a few muscles.

"Alright, then. So... ready to finish, Master, so you can get some sleep?"

"Er..."

Now that she mentioned it, Harry wasn't sure. This was really nice, maybe they could
prolong...

He felt her vaginal walls spasm, then flutter. And they did not stop vibrating around him for
sixteen seconds, until he grunted and spilled himself into her still-squirming warmth, his eyes
nearly rolled back in his head at the sudden spike in ecstacy.

"Good job, Master," Lilith whispered, even while she moved back underneath the covers to
lick him clean, "Now, go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake."

History of Magic was, Harry decided (not for the first time), designed as a course to be failed.

At least, History as Professor Cuthbert Binns, the school's lone Ghost Professor, taught it.

Droning on about one Goblin Rebellion after another was quite bad enough, especially in
Binns' absolutely dead-pan (no pun) monotone. But the fact that the Professor was so very
out-of-touch with what was actually going on in his class that every single student, aside
from Hermione, who sat on Ron's far side from Harry, today, was usually asleep within
minutes, and slept right through the entire class period.

Even she, though, frequently struggled to stay awake for some of the more boring lectures.

Now, though, at least two other students were awake besides Hermione: Ron and himself.

Ron, for his part, seemed determined to find out exactly how far he could slide his left hand
up Hermione's right thigh before she made him stop. Currently, his pinky finger was, as far as
Harry could tell, actually underneath the lower hem of her school skirt, while Hermione was,
still red-faced, doing her level best to ignore the creeping hand, or Ron's half-victorious, half-
terrified expression, or look anywhere in Harry's direction, at all.

Not for the first time, Harry was glad that Hermione was sitting further away, though,
because he, too, was tempted to do the same.

... He just had more temptations in the room.

True, they shared the class with the other fifth-year Ravenclaws, and he wasn't known for
paying attention, but Ron and Hermione's little game had gotten him thinking once again (it
was so very difficult these days, he knew) of the fairer gender.

Mandy Brocklehurst, a solid 'maybe'. Su Li, a definite 'yes'. Morag MacDougal, 'probably'.
Lisa Turpin, another 'yes'. Padma Patil, 'absolutely'
There were others, of course, who Harry wasn't as attracted to, though not because of their
looks. Ravenclaw, as a House, tended toward bookishness as opposed to vanity, but he could
only think of one truly unattractive girl in the entire House, and his year seemed to have a
greater proportion of attractive than not.

I don't know, he found himself musing while watching Lisa cross, then uncross and re-cross
the other way, her legs, Maybe Hermione has just made me like smart girls.

Needless to say, by the end of the class, both he and Ron were quite frustrated, because that
single pinky was as far as Ron had gotten, too.

But at least he got that far, Harry thought as he followed his friends from the room.

Monday’s Potions class, since Thursday’s double period had been derailed by the appearance
of Andromeda Tonks, was Harry's first real chance to see the reactions of the 'gang' of
Slytherins that followed around Draco Malfoy to the events of the previous Wednesday night.
Pansy, Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and even the older members of the Inquisitorial Squad had
been strangely absent on Friday, and Harry was quite used to not seeing any Slytherin outside
of the library on weekends.

Not a place, he knew, any of them were likely to go if they could help it.

Even so, Harry was unsurprised to see that Millicent Bulstrode was still absent from the
class, though he was quietly amused to see Draco Malfoy, who shot him a single venomous
look then ignored him completely after he had entered the room, and both Crabbe and Goyle
looking a little green around the gills, still avoiding looking at even each other.

The small joy Harry got from that little, non-verbal interaction spiked when, once more, it
was Professor Tonks who walked into the room from the office, rather than Snape. "It
seems," the Healer said by way of introduction, "that Professor Snape's illness was worse
than had been thought at first. He will be taking a few more days, and there is a slight chance
he will not return this term."

Professor Tonks, wisely, gave half of the class time to give a single shout of joy- perhaps
she'd been expecting a 'no' or expression of worry?- before resuming, "As such, I have been
asked to remain as your teacher for the remainder of the term or until Professor Snape is fit to
return for duty. Fortunately, your brewing skills are, on average, better than Professor Snape
reported to me. This means that, including today, the remainder of our classes before your
O.W.L.s begin next week, will be spent in review."

Again, Professor Tonks paused to allow her class to express some relief. This time, even the
majority of the Slytherins, Daphne included, Harry was surprised to see (she had always done
quite well in Snape's classes), exhaled a sigh.

"So, your assignment for today: Pick any Potion you have learned from your third year- I
believe that was the 1993-1994 school year- on. Brew it, writing down in your own terms
each step as you complete it, including the why things are done the way they are. Once that is
complete, you may bring me your sample and notes, clean your workstation, and quietly
review the notes you have taken thus far this year. For your Thursday class, should I still be
your teacher at the time, you may expect a more formalized review session."

Harry blinked, smiled, then shot a quick glance to Hermione, on his right, and Ron, on his
left, who was sitting today with Neville. All three were smiling, though to his surprise,
Hermione's seemed the most strained.

He, though, didn't spare the girl more than a few thoughts, even if he was momentarily
distracted by peering down her cleavage as she'd sat much more quickly than he had. There
was a simple Potion, a fourth-year, that he'd messed up in class.

One he felt he could make more easily without Snape distracting him.

A specific type of sensory-improvement concoction, one he'd heard Hermione describe as a

'fantasy x-ray potion'.

It sounded great to him, especially if it worked the way x-ray vision seemed to in television,
rather than showing only skeletal forms and the slightest of bits of flesh.

So he leafed through his index of Magical Drafts and Potions, by Arsenius Jigger, until he
found it: "Elixir of the Piercing Gaze," he murmured, before remembering Hermione was
right next to him. She, though, did not seem to react, intent on scanning her own Invigorating
Draught.

Harry quickly turned to the appropriate page, immediately realizing why he'd messed this one
up. His distraction had kept him from realizing the instructions took up more than the two
pages. Likely, this was the first Potion they had been asked to make that had.

Fortunately, there was only a single paragraph, including adding one more ingredient, that
he'd missed on the next page. Had it been any other Professor than Snape, Harry knew, he'd
have likely received at least a Poor, rather than the Dreadful he'd been given the previous
year, for that alone.

Still, it meant it wouldn't be that difficult to brew, so Harry immediately set to work, pushing
all else out of his mind.

Yes, even Lilith.

It was worth it, he suspected.

Thirty minutes later, Harry jumped just as he finished counting the sixty-third clockwise stir
and lifted his silver stirring rod from the cauldron. "An excellent job, Mr. Potter," Professor
Tonks said from over his shoulder, "Perfect coloration, a good odor... interesting subject, but I
suppose you're of that age. Please do not attempt to use your potion within the requisite thirty
feet of myself. You will find it... unpleasant."

Harry shuddered at the amused, quiet, not threatening, yet altogether terrifying tone the older
witch had used, slapped his book shut, then quickly ladled a sample vial full, corked and
labelled it, then handed it to the Professor with a slight blush he couldn't quite force down.
"And you, Miss Granger, very good Invigorating Draught so far. Another ten minutes and I
think you'll be done. Early, even. Well done- four points to both of you."

As Hermione, still beaming (they were both still so utterly unused to earning points in
Potions, no matter how hard any Gryffindor worked), finished packing her things away and
reopening her own Potions book, she looked over at Harry and hissed quietly, "What Potion
was that, Harry? Why did Professor Tonks say what she did?"

Immediately, his blush, which had only just faded, returned full-force. "Er, N- Nothing. Don't
worry about it, Hermione," he stammered.

One eyebrow raised, and for a moment, he feared she might question him further.

Instead, the girl turned her attention back to the book, leafing through it rapidly.

With about ten minutes left, the class had grown uncommonly noisy a short while later, once
nearly everyone- all but Goyle, in fact- had finished brewing, most students using the time to
quietly quiz one another on Potions, with some, undoubtedly, gossiping.

That, of course, was when Hermione whispered, "Ron told me you saw us the other- last
weekend."

Harry froze.

He said nothing, did nothing, did not dare breathe.

This was the moment in which it could all come crashing down, he realized.

Hermione would, most likely, be furious. She would tell McGonagall. Tell her everything,
about the sex, the Succubus, why Harry's stress level had seemed to decrease while everyone
else's in their year was constantly rising... he'd be kicked out of the school.

And his wand, O.W.L.s untaken, would be snapped.

"I don't mind," she continued, and out of the corner of his eye- he dared not even look in her
direction- he saw her look toward him slowly. "I don't, it's just... I thought you'd be... jealous.
But you haven't said anything. I thought you wanted... well, me?"

The last two words were said so quietly that, even as the class began shutting their books in
preparation to leave, Harry only just made them out. "I do," he replied just as quietly.

"Then... why haven't you...? Well..."

"Done anything?" Louder, now, but still below a whisper.

She nodded, looking away and pushing her book back into the always-overloaded backpack
she carried.

Distantly, Harry noticed the straps beginning to fray, and only then realized she'd gotten a
new one each summer. It wasn't hard, once he noticed, to realize why. "I... you're busy, I'm
busy... it's O.W.L.s. I figured you'd want to study. Or, since you went to him first, you were...
satisfied. You..." Harry gulped. "You... seemed, well..."

"Satisfied?" Hermione said, turning back to look at him with a little smirk, then over his
shoulder at Ron, who was now standing. "I was."

Harry frowned, looking back at their ginger friend, who winked in response to the betrayed
glance he'd been given.

"Look, Hermione," Harry murmured, "This really isn't the best time or place to talk about it."

She sighed, "No, I suppose it's not... come on, then. Maybe in the Common Room, then."

But Harry's woes were not over that day.

Double Divination wasn't terrible, though once again he had to sit at the back of the room,
this time to avoid as much female attention as possible. If he were honest with himself, he
needed a break from girls, too, if only a small one, while he tried to think about what he
wanted to tell Hermione... and worried about what she might tell, or ask, him.

Fortunately, Neville and Ron had done a gamely job of distracting Hermione over lunch with
question after question, things she'd been only too happy to answer as they pertained to
school and their exams.

I might need to get Neville set up, too. I owe him after these last couple weeks, Harry mused
while he sought out the least-questionable table.

Double Transfiguration, once again with Slytherin, well... that was a problem.

Normally, even Malfoy did not dare do anything in McGonagall's classes, stern as she was.

This time, though, it seemed the boy had a bit more to prove.

He had waited until the end of the class, just as they were standing to leave the last class of
the day after yet another arduous lecture and review period, before acting.

There was no incantation that Harry could hear, though he had caught Draco's wand-tip
moving in his direction out of the corner of his eye.

Unfortunately, Draco, no doubt in an attempt to conceal his misdeed, had not aimed precisely,
because he had not been looking at Harry.

Instead of striking him, the nearly-invisible ripple had flown past him beneath one arm.

By the time Harry had looked behind him, the effect had passed. No one, from Hermione to
Parvati to Lavender or even Professor McGonagall herself seemed the slightest bit amiss.

So Harry could only scowl as the blonde wizard strutted from the room, swagger thoroughly
back in place after having missed several classes due to being 'ill'.
Harry shook his head, packed away his things, and carried on.

Dinner, too, was a relatively quiet affair, though Harry noticed Ron's oft-exploring hand was
getting progressively higher still up their mutual female friend's thigh.

He could only look around the room in growing frustration, though. All the students he'd
already shagged seemed exhausted. Even Daphne Greengrass, who seemed unflappable most
times, was showing signs of wear. Who could he go to for relief before bedtime...? Heading
up to his room right after dinner would be highly suspicious, so Lilith was out of the question
for now.

Then he saw her: Cho Chang.

She was not taking her N.E.W.T.S. this year, and significantly less busy than anyone else,
aside from maybe one of the Gryffindor Seekers, he had access to.

"Mm... I just remembered, I need to write a letter to Snuffles," Harry said quietly, "I'll see you
guys later," then left the Great Hall as quickly as he could.

A sharp-looking Barn Owl dropped off a reply, written in elegant, flowing cursive, twenty
minutes later.

Alright, Harry. Marietta wants you to bring your friend. Same place, eight. But it has to be
Saturday, we have Astronomy tonight, then we're alternatingly busy- we have end-of-year
exams too, you know. Sorry.

Harry frowned, then shrugged. It wasn't like he could do anything about it. Even with an
Invisibility Cloak and Lilith's help, he didn't dare go looking for a shag during a class. That
was just asking for trouble.

Still, that left him without prospects until at least an hour later, and he was still trying to
avoid Herm-

"There you are, Harry," a too-familiar voice said breathlessly, "I've been looking all over. Ron
had to go up to your room to get the Map to find you. Now can we talk?"

Harry was silent for several seconds, while he stared down the starlit corridor on the fifth
floor, two floors below the Room of Requirement, and about half-way between the
Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Tower entrances. Some forty feet or so ahead and maybe twice
that behind, a few students still moved back or forth, mostly fifth- or seventh-years trying to
squeeze in a last little bit of study before the exams.

Almost everyone else was either in their common rooms, or in the case of the younger years,
in bed. Harry had even, mostly, been on the way himself now that asking Lilith to join him
upstairs, since going to bed at this time would be seen as reasonable as opposed to unusual.

Not that he intended to sleep, of course.

"Well? What have you been doing? Can we talk?"

"Yes, Hermione, we can talk," Harry said quietly, resigning himself to his fate, "Just... not
here, okay? It's too... open. Can we go up to the Room?"

"I suppose," she said, walking up beside him at last, before holding out a familiar piece of old
parchment, neatly folded. "I already turned it off."

"Thanks," he said softly, looking longingly at the Marauder's Map for a moment before
pushing it down into a pocket of his open robes. How come he hadn't yet thought of using
that to find a likely prospect...?

Only, when they reached the room of requirement, the door was already present, and it was
slightly open. "Hold on," Harry whispered, drawing his wand as he glanced around.

Higher up, above the entrances to any one common room, there was much less foot traffic.
Dinner had ended an hour and a half earlier by the time they reached the Room's entrance,
and he saw no sign of anyone, yet...

Beside him, Hermione, too, drew her wand. "It's quiet," she whispered, looking around as
furtively as he was.

Harry nodded, then reached out a hand to slowly push the door open a little further and
looked inside.

It was dark, but he could make out the shifting orange-yellow light of one, or maybe as many
as three, candles. The light was wane and diffuse, as if shifting off more than one wall, and he
could smell... Bluebells? Or was it the less-common Wood Anemone he was smelling?
Something grassy, too, and an evening breeze.

"The Astronomy Tower?" Hermione whispered from beside him, "We didn't take a wrong
turn, did we?"

Harry shook his head, pointing wordlessly over his shoulder at the tapestry of Barnabus the
Barmey.

Agonizingly slowly, worried at any moment that this was a trap designed by Malfoy to catch
him unawares and unprotected (relatively, he knew Hermione to be no slouch as far as
spellcasting goes and plenty quick in a fight, but Ron as backup would have been nice),
Harry pushed his head through the crack.

What he saw as he entered the Room of Requirement's field of demi-reality (or so Hermione
had described it earlier in the year to one very confused Michael Corner) was... not what he
expected.

He did, in fact, see what looked like the parapet edges of the very same Astronomy Tower
he'd helped Lilith set up blackmail material , and given Pansy the shag of her life on.

Only, there were differences, too. For one, the air was, while still resembling the early spring
they were in, warmer, almost a balmy summer evening aside from the scents. And...
Honeysuckle? That wouldn't bloom for months, yet...
Perhaps it was the Astronomy Tower being represented, but Harry looked up at the stars.
They were... off, somehow, though he couldn't quite place how. The moon, too, seemed to be
in the wrong phase, less than a waning crescent when he expected a nearly-full waxing
gibbous. And voices... two of them, on a night when no one was taking Astronomy Practicals
anyway, to the best of his knowledge.

Two students, one male, one female, whispering...

Trysting.

He backed out quickly, slightly red-faced already, "You... you don't want to go in there," he
murmured to Hermione, attempting to hold her back.

But it was useless, he knew, as soon as he saw the girl's dark brown eyes roll in the dim light.
"It's fine, I'm a prefect, we'll just kick them out and..."

Reluctantly, he followed Hermione into the Room of Requirement.

What he saw as he fully entered the room was much as he expected.

They were standing on the Astronomy Tower, much as if they had left the actual door
structure, leaving them on the lower landing with just five steps between them and the top.

And on that top, on a bed that certainly did not exist on the actual Tower, were two students
Harry recognized quite well.

At once, Harry grabbed Hermione's collar and yanked downward, causing her to squeak.

Her hands flew to her mouth as she stared, horrified, dreading that one of them had heard.

In fact, there had been the briefest of moments, of pauses, before the rhythmic creaking of the
bed had resumed.

Harry knew that Hermione was as red-faced as he was. But he couldn't look away, even as he
felt her turn toward him.

On the bed were his roommate, Dean Thomas, the dark-skinned artist and Westham fan, and
below him, thin, pale legs wrapped around his waist, Ron's little sister, Ginny Weasley.
Only... again, something was off.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but...

"Ung," Dean said, drawing Hermione's attention back, but shaking Harry out of his fugue
enough to begin drawing the Invisibility Cloak out from its now-habitual pocket in his robes,
then spreading it slowly over them, "You're- so good, Gin."

"It's so big, Dean," Ginny said, somewhat woodenly, "I can't believe it fits."

Dean continued thrusting, pushing what Harry knew to be an above-average, yet not
shockingly so, erecting into the soft, pink flesh of the slight, athletic girl he'd once, until that
moment, fantasized himself about. Ginny did not move, except to rebound from Dean's
thrusts, her arms wrapped around his back and her legs around his buttocks.

"We should go," Hermione whispered, shuddering slightly beneath the Cloak as its filmy
inner surface obscured and warped the view.

"We probably should," Harry agreed, but continued, "But do you want to? I want to watch."

Somehow, Harry felt that Hermione should have objected.

Would have, certainly, objected, before the influence of Lilith into his life.

Yet... "Er... alright," Hermione whispered, then, "We should find- find a more comfortable
position, if we're going to stay and w- watch. One where we can both be covered."

Harry swallowed, but nodded. Personally, he could think of only one way to guarantee they
stayed covered, and that was by getting even closer, but... could he stay quiet?

Hermione, though, must have had something else in mind, for she grabbed Harry's hand and,
as quietly as she could, tugged him, half-upright, up the stairs and half-way around the edge
of the faux entrance to the shadowy side, far from the moonlight or candlelight from the two
candles Dean had (apparently) set up on the far parapet.

Below, Harry could see an accurate, if fuzzy, representation of the Hogsmeade Valley, which
grew progressively less distinct with each passing mile. It seemed even the Room had limits.

Hermione, though, was not looking out into the false distance. She had, instead, turned her
attention back toward the rutting pair, their heads and half of Dean's neck obscured now, at
least to Harry, by the edge of the stonework they were hidden behind. Then she sank down to
her knees before awkwardly sliding them out from beneath her to rest, knees up and slightly
spread, against the stone wall.

Harry gulped; he could clearly see, even in the dim light, Hermione's white- and blue-striped
knickers, yet she seemed either utterly unashamed, or uncaring. Indeed, all her focus was on
the way Dean's large penis continued slamming into Ginny's dripping cunt, the noises both
seemed to be making- him, grunting, her gasping- and the regularly, slowly increasing creak
of the soft-looking bed.

Harry shook his head, thinking for a moment how crazy this situation was, that he and
Hermione were watching Dean Thomas and Ginny, their friend, have sex, and not stopping it,
but...

"Whatever," he murmured under his breath, then took up a position next to Hermione,
making sure he was still below the cloak, even out to his toes.

It only just covered them now, he knew, but a whispered sticking charm- from inside the
Cloak so it would work, at least temporarily- held it against his feet, and another to the back
of his head. Just in case.
After a few seconds of listening to the coupling going on about ten feet away and Hermione's
rapid breathing, he almost jumped when she whispered, "Are- are you going to? Do you want
to? Y- You know... w- wank?"

He didn't know why he'd said it. Perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation, or the late
night, or the frustration of how very long he'd been looking and unable to find a partner, but
Harry's reply was simple, "I can think of people I'd rather do."

Hermione's flushed face, if anything, deepened. "N- Not to- tonight. I'm... I know you know
about Ron and I, but... I'm not... not ready. For more. And... I'm not sure if I..."

"Do you want to watch me wank, Hermione?" Harry whispered, interrupting what he was
sure would have been a fascinating- had it not been about him- monologue about how very
unsure Hermione was.

She gulped, then swallowed, "If- if you want to. I- I don't mind. Especially if... if I can."

"Why?" Harry asked, genuinely curious, as well as aroused, "Do you like watching, or
something?"

Hermione shrugged, "I... don't know. I walked in on my parents, once. It... I was mortified,
but fascinated. I stayed in the doorway until they noticed. They couldn't look at me for days."

Harry and Hermione both chuckled softly, glad that Dean was now grunting enough to hide it
completely (or so Harry hoped).

"If you want to," he agreed, "I'd love to watch you."

"Not- not Ginny?"

Harry shrugged, looking over at the couple for a moment, then turning back to the nearer girl,
"I'd totally shag her, she's very fit. But I don't see it working out long-term, you know? I'd
always wonder, in the back of my mind, if..."

"If she really loved you, not your- your image?"

Harry nodded.

"Well... I do," Hermione assured him, "I really do. And Ron, too."

"I don't love Ron like that," Harry quipped, hoping to lighten the tension just a little, "so don't
expect me to shag him, like, ever."

Hermione shuddered, gave Harry's shoulder a light- quiet- slap, "I hope not. The way you
two get on, you'd never have time for me if you did."

Neither said anything else.

After a few seconds of looking at each other, Hermione turned her eyes, then her face, back
toward the two on the bed.
Harry watched her, more than them, as at first hesitantly, then with sudden certainty,
Hermione's left hand moved up to fondle herself over her sweater, while the right slid up the
inside of her thigh, much like Ron's had done.

Only her hand did not stop, not until, with a shy glance in his direction, Hermione flipped the
hem up skirt up to lay against her stomach. He watched, transfixed, while the hand then
flattened against her abdomen, and slid down, fingers first, over the striped knickers to cup
what he knew very well, at this point, was her sex.

Already, even over the artificial smell of spring flowers, he could smell her.

He wasn't sure what, exactly, he was smelling, but it was truly intoxicating, almost like
Daphne's. Stronger, perhaps, than any he'd smelled except Lilith's own bubblegum aroma.

"W- Well?" she asked.

Harry jerked, then grinned. It still took him too long to pull free- his pants were entirely too
tight these days, especially when he was aroused- but eventually, he smirked when Hermione
gasped at the sight.

"You're... you're bigger than I expected."

"Er, thanks," Harry said, confidence waning slightly as she stared. "I... I haven't had any
complaints."

"Nor would you, from what I hea- er, read," Hermione murmured. "Do it... stroke it for me.
Wank, Harry. I want- I want to watch."

So he did, wrapping his right hand around the base then pumping up, down. He could barely
get his fingers around himself, he was so aroused. Yet that feeling mounted, so to speak,
when Hermione's right hand starting working slow circles into her groin. The left, too, began
moving, kneading and pawing gently at her sweater for a few seconds, before, with another
glance up at his face, tracing its way downward, then up underneath the hem of her sweater
and shirt, giving Harry a tantalizing glimpse of moon-bathed, surprisingly toned stomach as
well.

Hermione gasped lightly as her hand made contact, and when she finished, her lips were
parted slightly as she began to pant herself, though much less desperately than Ginny.

Hermione watched, too, as Harry continued to stroke, facing her more than the couple, her
eyes alternating between watching his hand pump, or his shaft as it wiggled and throbbed in
his grip, or the distant couple.

"Dean's big," Hermione whispered, glancing back to watch Harry's reaction to this statement.

"He's supposed to be, it's genetics," Harry replied. Somewhere, he'd heard that dark-skinned
men were larger on average. Maybe it was from Dean, Harry couldn't be sure. But he, too,
knew that he was a little bigger. Ron, too, was quite well endowed, maybe even longer than
Harry, if not as thick. Sometimes, showering with your friends was a pain.
It was all, until that moment, information Harry hadn't known he'd ever need, and still wished
he didn't have.

"Mm. Maybe," Hermione replied, "He's probably average then, for a dark-skinned boy. I
don't know. Yours and- and Ron's, and his, and my dad's are all... and I was little, then so I'm
sure my impression was... off."

"I can see it now," Harry smiled, imagining it even while he watched Hermione continue to
jerk herself, increasingly rapidly, "Little- what, nine-year old Hermione Granger, watching
her parents fuck."

"D- Don't say it like that," she whispered, face reddening again. "That makes it sound dirtier
than it was."

"But you liked it, didn't you? That does make it dirty, Hermione."

She swallowed, looked down. But she continued the circles. Sped them up slightly. "Maybe I
am dirty," she whispered after several seconds. "I want to suck you. Like I d- did with Ron.
C- Can I?"

"God, Hermione," Harry moaned quietly, "I thought you'd never ask."

Before she could say anything else, Harry had cast a Silencing Charm around the pair of
them, then fully freed himself, ball sack and all, from his trousers, before moving to lean
against the entrance wall.

For a moment, he wondered how any girl could see an erect penis and not laugh.

But the expression on Hermione's face told him she was thinking about anything but humor.

Instead, still beneath the Cloak, she knee-walked over and put her arms against his waist with
her hands on the stone, and leaned in. "You smell... like wood, and wax, and grass, and...
sex."

"I haven't, not since last night, and I showered this morning," he informed her, hoping the
smell wouldn't put her off. He did, indeed, bathe regularly. More-so, now.

"I like it," she murmured, then leaned in further and stuck out her tongue.

Harry's eyes rolled up as the rough, smooth surface moved across the bottom of his scrotum,
circling each testicle three times before moving up the outside of his shaft.

Now just eight feet away, Harry heard a grunt and looked up, away from Hermione, who was
also distracted.

Dean's and Ginny's feet were now aligned, with the bottoms up, and the squeaking of the bed
had increased. "Doggy," Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded.
"Hot," Hermione said.

Harry nodded again.

"I want you to come down my throat."

Harry blinked. "Er..."

Then Hermione took half of him in her mouth at once.

She gagged, coughing, on his size, but did not back up.

Instead, eyes watering even as she looked up through now-wet lashes at his face, Hermione
forced herself down his shaft, inch by inch, until her nose was buried in the flesh and curly
hair at his base.

He jerked spasmodically as she swallowed once, twice, around him, then backed off, giving a
single low gasp as she did.

The whole time, her eyes had stayed on his.

"Gods above, Hermione," Harry whispered, though he needn't have bothered. Just a few feet
away, Dean was now groaning more than not.

"I did it," Hermione, too, whispered, "I took both of you- all of both of you- the first time. It-
it took a lot of practice, but..."

"Fuckin' hot," Harry said softly, eyes locked on hers.

She grinned, then opened her mouth again while lowering her head.

This time, he watched as her lips formed around his girl, forming a tight seal, and her cheeks
withdrew as she inhaled on the back-stroke, her tongue working across, side to side, on the
up-stroke.

He watched as her chest swayed with each bob, her hair half-obscuring her face except for
the idle, barely-considered motions she made to push it out of her way.

Harry was also aware that, unlike Lilith, Hermione did not literally have a throat made for
fucking, and that, at this angle, if he pushed forward she would choke.

So as much as he wanted to, he refrained, instead settling back against the wall while
Hermione went to work on his shaft, one hand lightly atop her head, the other cupping his
scrotum, kneading it softly.

It was still, despite not daring to force himself into her, truly exquisite.

"Coming soon, Hermione," he said quietly, just seconds after Dean's loudest roar yet
announced his climax, while the last creakings of the bed foretold the couple's settling.
With wide eyes, Hermione pulled herself off, inhaled sharply, then dove back down, once
more forcing herself, inch by inch, down until he was bottomed out in her mouth.

Again, she swallowed, and it was suddenly too much.

Harry pushed forward, though he couldn't go any deeper, out of pure instinct, carrying
Hermione's head with it. Off-balance, he was forced to take a single step with each foot, into
what surely was sight of Ginny or Dean or both, with bushy-maned head equally off-balance
between his legs.

But his throbbing, pulsing dick did not care. It only cared to give Hermione exactly what
she'd asked for, a load of his semen down her throat.

Harry forced himself back quickly, hoping no one had noticed, that Hermione would not hex
him into next week, or worse.

Instead, as he allowed her to pull off him, the girl's expression was one of bliss.

He watched as she smacked her lips, licked them, showed him the barest remnants of seminal
fluid far in the back of her throat, then, still looking into her eyes, swallowed the lot. "Now,
Harry... we should get back to bed."

"No," he murmured, glancing around the corner. Fortunately, Ginny and Dean were both
facing away, she spooning into him. "Too risky. I... I want to return the favor."

She flushed, "No, I- I haven't..."

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, leaning down to grab her hands and pull her upright, "You
blew Ron first. Let me be the first to do you. Er, with my mouth."

"W- Well... alright," Hermione agreed, then spun around him to lean against the wall herself.
"Then on your knees, Harry."

"Think you're in charge now, huh?" he grinned, but obeyed all the same.

Before his knees touched the stone of the false tower, Hermione's striped knickers had done
the same, and her hands were lifting the skirt's lower edge, higher and higher.

Like Daphne, she was unshaven. Hermione, though, at least seemed to make some effort to
tame the mess of wild hair, worse even than her head's, with a comb or... something, because
he could still see the important bits, glistening and swollen with arousal. "Did you come
already?" he asked quietly.

He still wasn't sure, really, what made him ask. Why he'd wanted to know with Pansy.

Maybe he just wanted to make sure his partners were satisfied before he had his fun?

Or something less altruistic, maybe he wanted to leave them quivering messes?

"A little one," she confirmed, "before- well, when I decided I wanted to... 'blow you' as you
put it."

"Well," Harry said, "Since you've just given me one of the best orgasms of my life, I want to
try to return the favor."

"Please, do, Haarreeeeee!"

He put all he'd learned so far to work, using not just his tongue, but his lips, fingers, nose,
even his cheeks to work, far more than he had for Cho, more than he had so far for Lilith, or
Daphne. Harry laved, licked, rubbed, squirmed, and prodded for more than five minutes,
enjoying what he now identified as the taste, mild though it was, of clover honey.

Hermione squirmed, bucked her hips against his face. She keened, she wailed. Twice, he felt
her flow drastically increase against his face, until, in a brief moment's respite, he looked
down to see the dark gray of his own sweater drenched nearly black down to the belt with her
sticky fluids.

He grinned as he felt another of her orgasms approach. This would be... what, five?

Then, just as she neared her peak, he stood, "Can I put it in, Hermione?"

"P- Put what? O- Oh, I- oh, Yes, Harry, p- please!"

Perhaps it was a bit manipulative to drive her to an orgasmic frenzy before taking a girl's
virginity, Harry mused as he used his left hand to line himself up at his best friend's opening,
but it had worked well for him so far.

Then, his right hand suddenly sliding up underneath her shirt to grab the same breast she had
been kneading earlier, Harry pushed up and in, while his right hand fell against her mouth to
muffle any wail.

But Hermione did not wail.

Instead, with a wince, the only noise he could hear was a low, almost guttural, "Ugh,"
sounding almost like Dean's first grunt as he drove home.

He could feel the blood, and her other fluids, mixing. He could feel her heat, hot like an oven,
squeezing around him like a liquidy vice, feel her pulse in every throb of the flood-drenched
region. Feel her breath as her mouth fell forward to suckle wildly at the base of his neck, her
breasts, modest, neither too large or small, pressing against his own chest, felt her legs, both
of them, wrap around his waist much as Ginny's were with Dean's earlier, her weight entirely
supported by his pressure against the wall.

"Glad- glad it was you," she murmured, pulling off what Harry was sure would be a truly
epic hickey to whisper in his ear, "either would- would be great, but glad it was you. I'm-
safe- if you want- inside."

"I love you, Hermione," Harry replied into her ear, nibbling as he started to thrust, careful to
push more up than in. Unlike Pansy, he truly didn't want to hurt Hermione on the stone.
"I know," she said softly, coming back to herself slightly, enough to pull her head away and
upright, to look slightly down at him while he pumped into her depths. "I love you both. I
know it's weird. But I feel like I- like I always have."

"You're- at first," Harry confessed, "You were like a sister. One I always wanted. Then..."

"What, Harry?" Hermione whispered, "Tell me what changed."

"Puberty," he growled, staring down at her cleavage, just visible at the top, "Puberty did it.
Two years ago. I just couldn't- I didn't know what to do about it. Lilith... showed me how."

"I should thank the tart, then," Hermione whispered, "Because I've been waiting a long time
for both of you. And now... fuck it's good. That's great, Harry. Don't stop."

Harry snorted, "I can go for an hour, if you want."

"M- Maybe not that long," Hermione shuddered, pulling him tight against her for a few
seconds, "I think even one more small climax- she exhaled, panting, "might make me pass
out."

"You don't care about- about Lilith?" he asked, still, despite fucking her up against the wall,
in some ways 'just' the seventh 'conquest' he'd had since summoning the demoness, if
Hermione disapproved.

"Not- maybe a little, but- n- not right now," Hermione moaned, pulling one arm from around
his neck to tug her shirt up above her chest, giving him easier access. Like her knickers,
Harry was happy to see the bra was white and blue striped, and in fact, from what Harry had
seen, her breasts were dead-average in size, but stunningly proportioned and shaped. The one
nipple he'd freed (or had she been the one?) was light and pink, like the small areola around
it, but stiff as a rock and jutting between his fingers. He thought for a moment about suckling,
but instead leaned in to capture her lips with his, heedless that those same lips had licked off
Ron's semen a few days before, then smacked at his own mere minutes earlier.

They were Hermione's lips, so he didn't care.

Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice Harry's implication that he did, in some ways, still see
her as a sister. That might be uncomfortable.

But for him, it was a secret thrill.

"You're sure... inside?" he grunted a few seconds later.

"Gods, yes," she said, "Don't you dare pull out."

She came with him, both groaning into the other's mouth, until Harry's shaking knees could
not support him, much less both, and they slid painfully to the stone floor.

They continued to lean against each other, his hands idly working her chest, now, their
tongues dancing softly, while he, too, softened inside her then eventually, with a light plop,
fell free.
Hermione then, with a coy smile, pushed Harry onto his back then, pulling the cloak about
herself again, bent low to lick him clean, much as Lilith had done the previous day.

It was almost, Harry thought, too much. But Hermione only continued to lick their juices off
him until she was satisfied, then, staring into his eyes, swallowed it all, before giggling and
pulling her sweater back down before gesturing him to his feet. "Come on, we should get
going."

Only, they did not get far.

No sooner had the two Cloak-covered teens rounded the corner than Hermione stopped cold.

Dean was now on his back, nude, erect once more, and there was no Ginny.

"Where did she go?" Hermione whispered, "Did she- see?"

"I don't think she was here at all," Harry whispered, the pieces only just then clicking into
place, "Did you see how awkward and stiff she was? It was like... a robot Ginny, not really
her. Like the room created her as- I don't know, some kind of sex toy for Dean."

"You could use that a lot," Hermione whispered, eyes locked onto Dean's penis, her hand still
in his.

"I could," Harry admitted, "Now that I think about it, but... only if I'm desperate. It was so...
stiff. I'd probably be better off just doing it myself, even if that never works anymore."

Hermione shrugged, "Well, if you ever get really pent up, you know you can ask me, right? I
mean, I have to study, and there's apparently a war on, but... I don't want to stop. Unless..."

"No, Hermione," Harry pulled her against him, "I don't intend to stop being in love with you,
or wanting your body, or anything. No matter how much I might shag other people. You were
always the first on my list."

"Your... list? We'll have to discuss that in greater detail at some point, Harry Potter," she said
against his chest, then pulled away and started tugging him toward the door.

Only to stop a moment later, let go of his hand, and make her way to the bed.

There, gingerly, he watched as Hermione bent over, licked a bit of pre- or maybe old cum
from the tip of Dean's penis, took his head in her mouth, sucked once, and then pulled off
with a pop.

Again, she swallowed the lot before returning to Harry.

"Now," she whispered with a saucy wink, "I can say I've sucked off three boys. That's two
more than Lavender- if she asks."

"D- Damn," Harry murmured, "I can't believe..."

"That I did that in front of you?" Hermione asked shyly.

Harry shook his head, "No, that I can believe- you probably like people watching, too, if you
like to watch- but I can't believe how sexy it was."

Hermione shuddered, then immediately grabbed his hand and made for the door, "We really
need to get out of here if we plan on getting any sleep tonight, lover-boy. I'm not ready for a
threesome with Dean, quite yet."

Harry's eyebrows rose. His last shot, the last thing either said before separating in the now-
empty Gryffindor common room, was, "The idea does have some merit..."

Wednesday evening, Hermione dropped her backpack onto her bed with a huff before
glancing around the empty dorm-room. As usual, Lavender and Parvati's section of the room
was full of clutter, mostly make-up containers and loose stacks of Teen Witch Weekly or
similar rags, while Fay and Luca's were more organized but still filled with various
nicknacks, like extra brooms, beater's bats, and a cauldron that Luca had melted through with
Seamus' help the previous year. Her own area, by contrast, was neatly organized with
everything in it aside from the book she was currently reading before bed put away neatly.
The sight of it drove her mad.

But it shouldn't, Hermione frowned as she reminded herself, I like things organized. Just
because I can't decide who I love more between Ron and Harry doesn't mean I don't like
being in control of my life. I like things to go smoothly. So I like things to be organized.

Still, the girl knew something had to change, had to give. It wasn't her part of the dormitory
that was the problem, Hermione was more self-aware than to think that was actually true. No,
the need to just change things, to make a mess out of her structured life was but a symptom
of a larger issue. I'm... randy. I want to shag Ron. I want to blow Harry again. Hell... I want
to blow Dean, too, and if either Neville or Seamus asked, I probably would. I'm... How?
Why? It doesn't make any sense. I can blame it all on Lilith's influence, but it can't just be
that, can it? I know...

Hermione sighed as she dropped onto her bed and pulled her feet up to sit in nearly a lotus
position while she worked to keep her mind focused. Her eyes drifted shut as she put her
powerful mind to use. I've always been curious about sexuality, of course, and humans are
built to experience physical pleasure so of course I enjoy when they touch me, too, but...

Have I always been so... wanton?

To that, Hermione had no answer. Her first truly sexual experience of any kind had been
witnessing her parents making love, and her own curiosity had driven her to watch for several
minutes rather than push her away or give her the feeling most teens, she guessed, would
ascribe to that scenario: disgust. No, she had thought it then (and now) quite beautiful. A
demonstration of passion and physicality, but also of love and romance. Which, she reasoned,
would explain why I want to have that with Ron and Harry both, because at this point I'm
fairly certainly I'm truly in love with both of them. But that doesn't explain the... other things.

She was certainly not 'in love' with Seamus Finnegan, or Dean Thomas, or Neville
Longbottom. Yet... I have to admit, I would gladly suck them off. If they were brave enough to
do what Harry did, and drive me wild with need for more, I'd probably shag them, too. Which
would make me a slag. But I don't feel like a slag.

The girl sighed once more, then spoke out loud into the empty room, "I just don't have
enough data points. I need more information. I need... research." Decided, she stood up,
shucked her outer robes as classes were over for the day, and glanced quickly at herself in the
mirror. Not worth the bother. I know he doesn't care if I 'gussy up'. Then she snorted in self-
derisive amusement for a moment before striding from the room and back down the stairs.

She found her quarry in the common room, studying for once, and for a moment Hermione
felt affection and pride wash over her. It's even Transfiguration. Well... sorry, Ron, but I'm
going to be selfish for once. She glanced quickly at Harry, next to the red-head, then at the
taller young man in question. "Ron? Can I talk to you for a bit in private?"

He jumped at the first mention of his name and, like Harry, smiled when he saw her. "Sure,
Hermione. What's up?"

"In private," she reminded him, "Er... let's take a walk?"

She had not intended to be so unsure, but Ron didn't seem to notice. Harry had, she knew,
because he raised one eyebrow, but did nothing else aside from share a questioning look. She
kept her own face carefully neutral, hoping he would not read too much (accurate or not) into
her secrecy. "See you later, mate," Ron said casually, leaving his books where they were at
the table he and Harry were using. She couldn't help but admire him as he stretched to the
point of his back popping, then watched him for a few moments as he walked toward the
portrait-hole. "You coming?"

"Er... yes, sorry," she muttered, but couldn't help but respond mentally, I sure as hell hope
so...

Hermione did not waste time on a meandering stroll, however. Instead, she quickly took the
lead. Within five minutes, they were standing across from the tapestry of Barnabus the
Barmy. She ignored her target for a moment more as she paced back and forth, then gave him
one last, hopefully smoky-eyed look before she led the way inside without a word. Hermione
smiled as she saw what the Room had created. The image wasn't perfect, but it was very
close.

"Er... is this... your bedroom? Back home, I mean?"

Hermione nodded, "Close enough. Ron... I had sex with Harry."

She watched him, one of her best friends, someone she loved, as his face, his entire body,
seemed to wilt. It took a piece of her heart with it, but a moment later, he stood up. For the
first time in what seemed like years, Hermione did not know what he was thinking based on
his expression. It was neither angry nor sad, and she could not place what it meant. Then he
said, "You told me you wanted to keep things fair. I figured you'd, you know, use your mouth
when you went with him that night."
"And that's all I planned on doing," she whimpered softly, stepping past him to sit on the edge
of the fake bed, finding it quite as comfortable as her real one. "We... we came across two, er,
people, in the Room. They were using it first, for, uh... things. And I did do... that. But then
he, er, offered to return the favor, and with those others distracting me and... I didn't say no."

"So you shagged with others watching?"

Again, Hermione was surprised by the lack of accusation or hurt in Ron's voice, but still felt
the need to clarify, to explain, as something so powerful she could not deny it. "Er... not
exactly. He used his mouth on me. And... and he was really good. It... I came. Hard. A lot,
actually, and I..."

"I'd have done that if you asked, for sure," Ron told her flatly, "but I don't blame you for that.
It'd... be a bit hypocritical of me, after..."

Hermione looked up at him for the first time in more than a minute. "Er... I didn't think of
that," she acknowledged, "but I also didn't, well... double standards and all."

"Huh?"

"We've talked about this already," Hermione reminded him, "if a guy has a bunch of girls,
he's a 'stud', but if a girl sleeps around, she's a slag."

"Yeah, right," Ron nodded, stepping to her desk chair and sitting down facing her, "but we've
talked about other stuff, too. If you're with me and Harry, you aren't a slag, you're just... our
girlfriend. Or whatever."

She nodded slowly. This didn't make sense. Ron was the jealous type. Surely he was upset
that he hadn't been, couldn't be, her first? Even if she was jealous herself that she was neither
of her boys'. Yet, that too would be hypocritical. She wanted sex, the same as they did, but
had been too unwilling (until Harry) to provide it herself, so how could she, logically, blame
them for going elsewhere?

If I'm honest with myself, some part of me even likes the idea. My boys- my men- are so
'manly' that just one woman can't satisfy them. I... Mum would be furious if she found out
Daddy ever cheated on her, but I'm not Mum. But it would be damned hypocritical of me to
want both of them for myself, if I can't make up my mind, either.

Also... it's hard to think with Ron standing there, looking so... so... yummy.

Hermione swallowed deeply as she gave up trying to figure out the best course of action, and
let her eyes rake up and down her taller friend's body. Even clad in robes, she could tell he
was fit, lean, strong. And his cock tasted so good... even his semen tasted a bit like cream
crackers. Cream... God, I want some of it. I want him.

She swallowed again, then looked up. "Ron?"

"Hm?"
"It... it isn't fair." She wanted to continue the sentence, to explain, but... he was so distracting.
Hermione wanted to blame her lust on Lilith's appearance, for she certainly noticed a school-
wide increase in students pressing the boundaries of what was socially acceptable, much less
allowed by Umbridge's insanely-strict decrees. But she could not, not completely at any rate.
She had been having this issue since she was twelve, but with every month it had grown
incrementally more severe. Now...

"Huh? What's not fair?" Ron asked, running a hand down the back of his neck while he
continued to peer around her room, no doubt gathering far more insight into her character
than he let on. Not that anything was entirely accurate, she knew. Pulling any of the
numerous books from the bookshelves (and there were many of those) would reveal mostly
blank pages if removed by anyone but her. The Room of Requirement could only reproduce
perfect copies of things within Hogwarts' grounds, and even that had limitations, as
evidenced by the flat, robotic-like Ginny 'doll' Dean had used to get himself off on the night
she'd lost her virginity.

Hm. Well, if Ron continues being too clueless, I guess I could try that myself. But I'm not
ready to give up yet. I'll just have to... be blunt. "It's not fair... that Harry's been with me, and
you haven't. If we're going to be together, long-term, I... we should do it too, don't you
think?"

Predictably, Ron blushed deeply, his mouth suddenly falling open for a few moments before
it shut again with a clack. "Er... I mean, of- of course, if- If you want to," he stammered, "I
don't... I wouldn't want to, er, p- pressure you."

Suddenly feeling much more in control of herself thanks to Ron's own shyness, Hermione let
herself relax just a little by stretching up, making sure to arch her back in a way that
accentuated her full, but not over-large chest as she shrugged her own robes off her shoulders.
"Hmm... well, Harry and I did it a couple of days ago, and I don't feel like I'm too sore."

"So, uh... just to be clear," Ron asked as he turned to face her, eyes locked onto her school
blouse as she unbuttoned the top two, displaying a not insignificant amount of cleavage,
"you, er, mean right now, right? Like... here?"

"Right now, right here," Hermione agreed with what she hoped was a sultry, teasing smile as
she continued to unbutton, but paused half-way through once she was sure he could see her
cream-colored brassiere, "Unless... you don't want to?"

"No!" he cried, "No, I- I do. I really do. Gods, Hermione, don't you know I've fancied you for
years now?"

She grinned, "Well... your performance the other night did give me a few hints. Tell me... did
you like it when I used my mouth on you?"

He smiled too, and she giggled a bit to see the glazed look fall over his eyes as he
remembered, "Uh, yes, Hermione. Merlin, that was brilliant. I mean, you said you'd never...
done that before, but it felt so good."
"Well... I'd like to try again, if you don't mind," Hermione murmured softly, "but only to get
you... warmed up. Then... maybe you'd like to return the favor before the, uh, the- the main
event?"

He chuckled too as her words faltered on the last sentence, a blush of her own stealing
completely down the gap between both sides of her shirt, which was now fully open but still
covered her breasts. "I thought you'd never ask. Er... maybe we should start with you first,
though? I mean... I'm not sure I'll, uh... l-"

"If you don't last," Hermione interrupted, "We can always just keep going until you can
again."

"Okay!" Ron agreed at once, and burst into motion, quickly shucking every bit of his clothing
while Hermione more carefully removed hers. He pushed his boxers shamelessly down his
legs first, and Hermione again goggled at his sheer length. How exactly she'd gotten him
completely inside her mouth a few days previously boggled her mind. Just a bit longer than
Harry, if not as thick, Hermione's mind idly calculated that at least three inches had been
inside her throat itself when her lips grazed his scrotum, which currently hung down a few
inches in the increasingly hot weather.

Hermione let the bra fall carefully at first, but forced herself to appear brazen and without a
hint of shyness as she bared herself to Ron for the first time, too. Even before, when she'd
blown him in their dorm, she had kept the knickers and bra on. Now, it was just the former.
She let Ron stare for a few seconds, smirking confidently as one hand moved to his member,
already hard, and started stroking it while he gazed upon her, licking his lips hungrily. Then
she crouched, just a little, to force her knickers down around the curve of her hips and stood
tall again. "Ron? Stay there."

"Uh, huh," he muttered, seemingly barely cognizant as she stepped toward him, one of her
fake pillows in hand, and dropped it at his feet before sinking to her knees. Days before, she
had been so eager just to try it that the girl hadn't given herself time to admire the slender,
pale rod her friend sported. She pushed it against his thick thatch of red curls first, sliding her
open palm and hand against hit from bottom to top, then following gently with her tongue
washing it back and forth, then held it there as she licked back down before laving his furry
sack, too, all the way around his balls, even behind them a bit before finally angling him
down to her face.

"Fucking amazing," Ron murmured, "You're so amazing, Hermione."

"Thank you, Ron," she replied just as quietly, then took his tip into her mouth. Hermione
liked to think that her libido was quite healthy compared to most girls, and as she'd already
thought to herself, she dreamed about having sex on a regular basis, especially with Ron and
Harry. Recently, though, those particular dreams had become, if not less frequent, lesser in
proportion to the number she had of a cock in her mouth. The feminist in her might have
thought it demeaning to service a boy like that, if the same feminist didn't know full well how
much power it gave her over that same man. Nothing so crude as to bite him off- she'd never,
unless maybe it was a Death Eater who'd forced himself on her- but she could hurt him, and
she definitely controlled his pleasure. Boys, as Lavender was wont to say, would do anything
for a good blowjob.
Hermione didn't know if that was true, but it sure felt like it as her lips sealed around Ron's
dick and she sank lower, her eyes moving up to look into his which were glazed over again. I
am in complete control right now, she thought to herself, and pushed herself further. I want to
taste him again, all of him. God, I love this...

And she did. Hermione knew it deep down in the depths of her soul, knew it as deeply as that
she was a woman, that she loved magic, her family, and that she loved Ron and Harry both.

Hermione Granger absolutely loved sucking cocks.

So her tongue danced over him as she took him deeper, then released him slowly, making
sure to keep up the pressure. Heat built up in her depths, stronger than it had been at any time
except right before she had begged Harry to fuck her in another version of this very room,
and she knew that she would not forgive Ron if he left after one orgasm. But she was also not
about to just have sex with him, either. No...she wanted to taste him, fresh and hot, on her
tongue and against the back of her throat, to feel his slimy goo sliding around her mouth and
down her esophagus.

There wasn't even a question of gagging as he pushed past her tonsils again and again, and
soon Hermione, aside from the gack, gack sounds her throat made as it adjusted to his size
and released, she could hear an unsteady drip, drip as her sopping-wet pussy ran down her
left leg, but on the right simply dripped from her folds.

I- I haven't even touched myself, she realized dimly, but I'm about to cum- I'm going to cum
just from sucking Ron's dick.

His grunting tipped her over, and more by accident than design Hermione's mouth gaped
open as she arched backward, pulling most of the way off him so only the very tip of Ron's
penis was resting on her tongue when he unloaded, shooting several times into her mouth.
The heat, the smell, the flavor of it both prolonged her orgasm and made it more intense, so
that Hermione was shaking from her pelvis to her elbows as she collapsed backward onto her
arms.

She was still savoring his flavor unconsciously, swishing Ron's seed back and forth in her
mouth, swallowing it bit by bit as she felt her world spin.

It wasn't until he put her down that she realized Ron had picked her up to put her on the bed,
and she did not really return to reality fully until his lips closed around her swollen clit.

Then she shrieked, and forgot herself for several minutes as Ron's tongue lashed around her,
lapping up her copious fluid. She was still panting, "Yes, yes, yes," when he, several minutes
later, stood up again and asked a simple question.

She didn't even hear it, not really, but knew afterward that the answer would have been the
same.

All at once, the empty aching need, partially sated but also left with greater longing, was full
as Ron slammed himself into her. She cried out again as he pulled away, half-way out, then
pushed against her womb.
And Hermione was lost, just as securely as she had been when Harry had been the one
shagging her brains out against the fake wall of the astronomy tower.

Even years later, she could not fully recall the events of the next hours. What she did know
was that it was not the first or last time Ron had been inside her, but that he was still there,
snoring quietly beside her when she woke up the next day, aching, sore, and finally sated...
for now.
 Chap. 6: Triplicate
Chapter Summary

A deal is struck.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all learn a little something about each other a certain
Succubus, and themselves.
Finally, the trio become... well, one.

A/N: As usual, my blanket trigger warnings apply. There is frank discussion of sex,
boundaries, relationships, and even group sex (a small one) in this chapter. If you aren't of
age in your province, country, state, or region, best move on.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 6: Triplicate

The remainder of the week until Thursday afternoon was relaxing enough for Harry, and even
Ron somewhat, though he suspected the rest of the fifth- and seventh-years were starting to
feel the strain for real. This was the last week of review, the following Monday would be the
first day of their examinations. Each group would be combined, the fifth-years on the right of
the Great Hall and the seventh-years on the left, for the Theory examinations, and each being
called by name from the entry hall or side hall for Practicals after lunch.

He was happy to spend at least half an hour every evening just before bed with Lilith,
expanding his repertoire of positions and techniques (he was swiftly getting an appreciation
for having one of her small legs standing against his chest while he was straddling the other
as he pumped into her), though he did not have any time for trysting with anyone aside from
his newest friend.

Ron, though, seemed to be finding at least occasional relief with Hermione as the two had, on
Tuesday and Thursday evening, taken a short break from studying and come back to the
common area looking slightly disheveled and pleased with themselves simultaneously.

Harry smiled as he leaned against the wall of the dungeon hallway outside of Potions,
Hermione on his right and Ron on hers, imagining the two of them finally shagging.
Hermione probably told Ron about it. I bet he liked hearing it, too. He hasn't said anything to
me, though. I'm not jealous, either. Is that weird?

Indeed, Harry had to forcefully think of Umbridge in a bikini to quash the nascent erection
thinking about his two best friends shagging while Hermione told Ron in detail (maybe
skipping the 'tryst' they'd half-watched) about their own first sexual encounter.

As Harry trooped into the room behind the other Gryffindors, who themselves had waited
until the majority of the Slytherins were in the room already, he found himself with a
dilemma.

There were two open spots. One, perhaps predictably, was sharing a table with Neville. While
his and Ron's roommate had not melted or blown up a cauldron in more than a year, and in
fact hadn't even made a dangerous mistake at all since Healer Tonks had begun taking their
lessons the previous week, the previous four years had taught most of the class to avoid
sharing a table with him if they could. It was just too risky.

Neville, though, seemed to work better in Potions alone, at least if Snape was not around to
torment him.

The other table was sitting next to the Slytherin Ice Queen, Daphne Greengrass.

Harry tried, briefly, to suppress his grin as he sidled up to the blonde girl's table and gestured
at the empty chair. "Do you mind if I sit, Miss Greengrass?"

One light eyebrow- her left- raised. Otherwise, the girl's expression remained stoic while she
glanced at Neville's half-empty table, then around at the rest of the class, almost all of whom
were staring at the interaction, even Ron, who had been attached at the hip to Hermione since
the previous day. "If you must."

He grinned, setting his bag to the side of the table and sitting on the chair before reaching
down to pull up his cauldron and begin setting up. Before he had finished, Healer Tonks had
entered the room and begun taking roll in her normal quick, efficient, calm manner.

When she had finished, the older witch set her parchment and writing board aside and sat on
the edge of the desk, exactly as normal. "This will be your last class before your Potions
O.W.L.s. Many of you have become, no doubt due to the skill level expected of the course's
regular Professor, accustomed to a certain high standard. Many of you have begun to relax
under my own tutelage. Today, I want to impress upon you that you will need both if you
wish to excel at the delicate art of Potions brewing, or in your examinations of the subject.
Professor Snape, as you have no doubt surmised, is still indisposed. He demands excellence,
and there is nothing wrong with that. I, personally, find that I prefer a more relaxed method,
one more inclined to allowing my students to make mistakes for themselves, and learn of the
consequences thereof. Again, both will be necessary in the coming weeks."
She paused while several members of the class, Harry included, swallowed. This one class,
after all, would most likely make or break his half-formed but solidifying ambition to be an
Auror, and Snape required nothing less than an Outstanding grade for N.E.W.T.-level
students.

"As such, and as I remember my own examinations all too well, I offer you one double-
period free of assignment or even organized review. If you have questions about Potions, or
any other subject, I will answer as best I can. If you wish to brew for practice, please do so,
and I will assist as needed. Otherwise, this time is yours, though I urge you to use it
productively. Please also refrain from disrupting other students with... off-topic discussions."

Healer Tonks then stood fully and walked around the desk, casually flicking her wand-
something light-colored, thin, whippy, and rather long, at the blackboard, where the words,
"Open Review" appeared, before sitting down behind the desk and opening what looked like,
to Harry, the latest edition of The Practical Potioneer.

All around him, students nervously began talking among themselves quietly, and every once
in a while, someone would raise their hands and ask Healer Tonks a question. She answered
as easily as possible, like she had done for every other question Harry had seen asked of her,
demonstrating not only a broad and deep knowledge of several subjects (including Charms,
Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration, as well as Herbology, to Neville's
pleased surprise), but an ability to inform the asker without being condescending, snide, or
otherwise rude, as had been so often lacking in that particular classroom.

Beside him, Daphne had begun putting her cauldron away, before pulling Hexes for the Vexed
from her bag and beginning to read quietly.

With a small smile, Harry, too, put his own Potions supplies away- he figured another two
hours of work wouldn't help him at this point, anyway- and pulled out The Dark Arts
Outsmarted, before beginning to read on his own.

He had only moved one page over, though, when he was interrupted from what he had started
to think would be an unlikely source. The softest of whispers, barely audible, from the blonde
girl on his right. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

"Nothing," he replied quietly, though well above a whisper, "I just prefer sitting with
someone who won't blow up my cauldrons, that's all. You're a much better potioneer, no
matter how good a bloke Neville is otherwise."

"So this isn't an attempt to, as Tracey puts it, 'pry open my legs'?"

Harry could not suppress the slight guffaw that burst out from his chest, though he thankfully
kept it brief and somewhat-disguised as a coughing fit. When he had recovered, he hissed
back, "No. You made your position clear, that you would come to me, remember?"

"I do," Daphne replied, voice low and somewhat husky, though Harry somehow felt she
wasn't trying to be seductive, only quiet without quite whispering. "But that's not what I
meant, either. What are you playing at with Pansy and Malfoy, and the others? They- none of
them have been the same since last weekend. Malfoy won't stop muttering curses under his
breath about you, and Pansy, for once, has just been... quiet. It would make me expect she
was up to something, but she hasn't even been hanging out with the Carrow sisters, or
Bridget, or Rachel, or Millicent. She's mostly just been locked in her room."

Harry blinked, "The- I know who one of those people are, but there's two sisters in
Slytherin?"

Daphne's eyes rolled, "There's more than that, Potter. Hestia and Flora Carrow are twins. Last
year Charles and Devon Graham- another set of twins- graduated. My sister is two years
down, in Slytherin. Pansy has a brother who'll likely be in Slytherin next year."

Harry shook his head, trying to keep a blush from forming at how stupid he'd just sounded,
"S- Sorry, I didn't mean it quite that way. I didn't know there were two members of Pansy's
little gang that are sisters."

This time, Daphne shook her own, pretending to turn a page of her own book, "No, they
aren't. The Carrows are a year older, and it's more that Pansy hangs around them, when she's
not with Draco. But it seems they, at least, had a falling out- one he blames you for."

"Well, I can't confirm or deny that," Harry said, glancing around to make sure there were no
obvious eavesdroppers before lowering his voice further, though it seemed most of those
nearby were talking with their table-mates, actively in review. "I may have mentioned
something to Pansy about how moronic Malfoy could be in passing. Maybe it... pumped a
thought into her empty head or something."

Daphne's head shot toward him, slight glare included, and she hissed, even quieter, "Vacuous
though Pansy's head can occasionally be, I have a sneaking suspicion you pumped her full of
something else."

Harry felt himself pinking down to his chest. "Why would I do that?"

"Because Draco is nearly impotent, and she gets desperate? I don't know- you seem to think
you're Merlin's gift to womankind. You tell me."

"I wouldn't say that, exactly," Harry muttered, "I just... look, I don't know where you're
getting your information, but I wouldn't say it's entirely trustworthy."

"Then what would you say, Potter?" Daphne hissed, "Not even two weeks ago you come into
the library where I've snuck in for some late studying, and shag my brains out. Then I hear-
after doing some checking- you've been with Chang in Ravenclaw, apparently have some
'new friend' that's helping you 'relax' in all kinds of ways, have apparently also shagged half
of Gryffindor's females from the fourth-year up, and I'm supposed to believe you're going to
hold up your end of our bargain? Especially since you also got Pansy to break up with Draco,
apparently- according to my source- over you, and how stupid he is for continually going
after you when he always loses."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Somehow, Daphne had been very close to the truth, even in her first
statement. The rest... she didn't have the whole picture, of course, but she knew an awful lot
of what he'd been up to as far as 'extracurricular activities' went since their first encounter.
"The truth, Greengrass? The truth is, I've only been with one Gryffindor, and two
Ravenclaws, you, and two people I can't name for their safety."

"Pansy, in other words," Daphne scowled.

Harry shrugged, "If you want to believe that, fine. But the thing we discussed- our 'bargain',
as you put it- doesn't come into effect for more than a year. I don't see how it's any of your
business what I do until then. We aren't dating, are we?"

One of Daphne's eyes twitched, the stoic expression nearly crumbling completely for a
moment. "No," she hissed softly, "We are most certainly not. Look, Potter, I don't care whom
you shag, so long as you're disease-free and still able to care for what we agreed on, but I
would prefer not to be bogged down with rumors that the person I'm binding myself to after
next year doesn't already have thirty children!"

Harry blinked, leaning away from the venomous-looking girl. "I- once, Greengrass, I made a
mistake. I'm reasonably certain the girl in question is not pregnant. I have been making more
of an effort to prevent the same from happening. I am not ready to have children, damn it,
and am not a fool, no matter how much Malfoy might call me one."

For a moment, Daphne searched Harry's face. Then she murmured, voice suddenly regulated
and soft again, no longer hissing or angry, "Good," and turned forward again, looking down
to her still-open book.

Harry blinked, surprised by the sudden attitude shift, then glanced around the room.

Hermione and Ron, two tables away and across the room, were both shooting him concerned
looks, but trying to be subtle about it. No one else seemed to have even noticed, though when
he looked toward the front, Healer Tonks was clearly watching both with an amused
expression.

Damn... what does she think we were talking about, then?

In Herbology, this time more in an effort to avoid explaining what he and Daphne had been
arguing about (and possibly to avoid hearing Ron rant about him even sitting with a
Slytherin), Harry made a point of sitting with Neville. One of the first things he did with the
decreasingly-shy boy after sitting next to him in the far back right of the chamber (Harry in
the furthest corner from anyone else and the door both), was pull a small sample vial from
one pocket and surreptitiously swallow it down, before stowing the vial away again. "Sorry
about Potions, Neville, I actually did need to talk to Greengrass," he said afterward, pulling
on his dragonhide gloves.

They had been reviewing heavily in Herbology for two weeks already. This class, again their
last before the exams began, would cover things they had only started studying this year,
which included some of the most dangerous plants known to wizard-kind. Fortunately,
Neville was an expert, and Harry could trust him, in this class if no other, not to make a
mistake or let him make one for being distracted.
The class itself was relatively easy for that reason alone, and, since it was a double lesson
shared with the Hufflepuffs, a pleasant enough one. Professor Sprout was as cheerful as ever,
expounding once again on the properties of the Venomous Tentacula, Fanged Geranium
(known for eating creatures as large as a house-cat, though they were not shy about biting off
entire hands, as well), and other plants Hagrid might call entertaining or cute.

Harry, though, wasn't exactly watching the plants by the end of the class.

For his Elixir of the Piercing Gaze had begun to work.

He wasn't yet seeing through shirts, though he was hoping to get to at least that point, but
people's hair was becoming less and less opaque to his vision, and the edges of some of the
thinner leaves were starting to disappear before his eyes.

He waited, watching, looking around the room, keeping his eyes from latching on to one
target in particular lest someone see him staring, cataloguing as much as he could of the
females, glossing over the males.

And Professor Sprout. He didn't need to see that.

When the clean-up bell rang, signaling the approaching end of the lesson, Harry hurried to
pack his own things away using the simple, intent-based spell the younger Tonks had taught
him the previous summer, "Pack."

Repeating the spell for Neville's things, Harry leaned over to his quiet friend, "Listen,
Neville, I really do want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Neville protested quietly, "I'm fine."

"But I want to," Harry whispered, "Look... you don't even know how much you've been
doing for me, lately."

Neville frowned slightly, looking away. "You mean distracting Hermione while you and Ron
go find someone to shag? I'm not daft, Harry. Even Dean and Seamus know that's what you
two do when you get back late. I don't think anyone else does, but..."

"Well, yes, that," Harry whispered, "and keep it down, will you? Look, what I'm trying to say
is- I can help you, too."

Neville blinked, immediately turning scarlet, "I don't need... th- that."

"But you want it, right? I've seen you eyeing a certain Hufflepuff or two," Harry grinned,
pointedly looking toward the pair of Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot, making sure Neville
followed his gaze.

Watching his friend turn even more red was worth it alone, Harry thought. But... "Look," he
continued more quietly, "I'm not saying you have to shag her- not even sure which 'her' it is,
between the red and the blonde- but you've been watching one of them for two years, Neville.
I'm not daft, either. I'm not even saying I can work miracles. But I've also seen them glance
our way- you, me, Ron- once or twice. More. Neither of them mind the view, if you get what
I'm saying."

"I- I, you- that doesn't-" Neville sputtered, then gave up, turning half away without saying
anything, though he pulled his bag up to the shoulder and started following the rest of the
students out of the greenhouse, while Professor Sprout wished them all luck and, more
importantly, diligence.

Harry was very amused to see Neville, still red-faced, carefully watching the two girls, who
were lingering to the back of the Hufflepuff group, as they walked the well-worn path up to
the castle proper. "If nothing else," he said a minute or so after they'd left the greenhouse
behind, almost half-way to the main doors, "I can give you something to help you relax later.
Not like brain-food or anything, like the rest are peddling. This is a gift from a friend."

He held out another vial, identical to the first. "Elixir of the Piercing Gaze. No, it's not a Love
Potion of any sort. Use it, and within two hours- mine was about an hour and a half- you'll
see what it does. No harmful side-effects, though you might be... distracted, for a while. It
lasts about an hour. Don't double-up on the doses if I give you more, though, or you'll see
more than you want."

"Piercing- gaze?" Neville blinked, confused, while he took the vial of dark, hazy purple
liquid and examined it more closely, "What does it do?"

Harry smiled, "That's a secret, for now. Take it, and by the end of dinner, you'll know what I
mean when I say: Red is green, yellow is pink-striped."

Neville swallowed, then uncorked the vial and tipped it into his mouth. "Alright, Harry," he
said cautiously as he wiped his mouth and handed the empty vial back, "but if this is a
Weasley thing..."

Harry casually put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I can promise you, Neville, it's not.
Brewed it myself. Consider it a... what do they call it. A gesture of good faith? You'll get
something to enjoy- more than one, I'd wager- on your own if you wish, and I'm proving my
willingness to do more if you want. I'll see you at dinner, mate."

Then Harry lengthened his stride, barely catching up to Ron and Hermione, who were
bickering good-naturedly about something (for once), before stepping through the portrait
hole.

As he and Ron separated from their other best friend (with benefits for all, apparently) to put
their bags in their rooms until after dinner, Ron hissed down the stairs, "How come you were
sitting and arguing with Greengrass instead of Neville? You need to be careful around the
Slytherins. I thought you knew that."

Harry looked pointedly behind them at Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' best friend, who was
following them upward, and said, "I'll tell you later, it's not a big deal. Hurry, I'm hungry."

The reminder of food was all it took, as Harry had expected, for Ron to drop the subject for
the time being, and begin dashing up the several flights of stairs to their dormitory.
Once the door closed, however, Ron looked at Harry expectantly, "Well?"

Harry shrugged, letting his own bag fall to the trunk at the foot of his bed, "We were
discussing recent... events. She's under the impression I got Parkinson to break up with
Malfoy, which I might have actually done."

Whatever Ron had been expecting, that clearly wasn't it, for he let out a low whistle, "Really?
How'd you do that?"

Harry grinned, shrugging, then pulled out his wand and whispered, “Homenum Revelio”,
gesturing around the dormitory, the showers, and out into the stairwell.

Satisfied there were no hidden eavesdroppers, Harry lowered his voice just to be safe and
replied, "Proved he was damned near impotent, shagged her on the Astronomy tower in front
of him, made her beg for more in front of him..."

Ron, for a moment, shuddered in disgust. "You shagged a snake? Ick. Worse, it was
Parkinson? Eww."

Harry shrugged with a satisfied grin, "She was pretty nice under the robes, actually, really
wet, and a nice rack. It's part of Lilith's plan to get rid of Umbridge, I guess."

"Okay," Ron said, shaking his head to clear the images he must have found terribly disturbing
judging by his expression, "Alright, I guess I get that. But what about Greengrass? She's hot
as hell, yeah, but... she's one I'd actually consider dangerous, Harry. A real Slytherin, not a
ponce or a cow."

"She's also going to be my concubine in two years, and mother of three of my children,"
Harry said quietly. "Furthermore-"

"Wait, what?"

Harry sighed, "Look, it's a long story. The short version is that she needs to have kids and
wants to keep the Greengrass name going. She asked me to be the one, but doesn't want to
marry. I agreed, and both of us want me in the kids' lives- I'll be their father in every way
except in name, but I won't be her husband."

Ron let out a low whistle, "Damn. That's pretty serious, Harry. I mean... being a concubine is
serious, too. She can't betray you too easily, I guess, but that's still... watch your back. I can't
wait until you tell me what she's like in the sack, though, mate."

Harry sputtered for the briefest of moments. "What makes you think I'd- er... Why would
you..."

Ron's eyebrows rose, "Because I presume you won't let me shag her? Or she won't? I want to
at least know if she's as cold as people say, or as sexy. That's all, I guess I don't need details."

Harry snickered, "You're like a girl, you know that? Gossiping?"

Ron flushed, but protested, "It gets me randy to think about, that's all. Not you, really, but-
but another guy with a girl I fancy, or wouldn't mind being with. That's all."

"Apparently," Harry said, more calmly, "That's a common thing. I'm... I used to think I hated
the idea, but now I'm not so sure. I mean..."

"Hermione," they both said at once, then both laughed.

"That's something we'll have to talk about one of these days, Harry," Ron said, shaking his
head as he started moving for the door, "just us, then with her. I mean, I don't mind things as
they are right now, but I don't want things to get bad between any of us, you know?"

"Right," Harry agreed. "Oh, I think I forgot to tell you. Saturday night, Marietta and Cho
want to meet up with both of us again, if you're interested."

"Saturday?" Ron nodded, pausing with his hand on the door, looking up thoughtfully. "What
about Hermione?"

"Let me handle that," Harry grinned, "I have a couple of ideas. You interested?"

"Yeah, of course," Ron snorted, "Um... like last time, or...?"

Harry grimaced. "Er... I don't know. We should probably discuss that now, though. I... I
shagged Marietta, too, after you."

"I know," Ron snorted, "she told me. I don't care if you don't. But can I shag Cho, this time?"

Harry's shoulders slumped slightly in relief. Apparently, it wasn't just Hermione Ron didn't
mind sharing, but everyone. "I don't mind, if she doesn't."

"Brill," Ron grinned, then threw open the door, hurrying down to the common room to meet
up with Hermione, as usual.

An hour later, with Ron on his right, Neville on his left, and Hermione across from all three,
Harry watched with delight as Neville's eyes suddenly grew wide, and he went very, very
still, aside from the brilliant blush that he suddenly sported, all the way down to his hands.

Harry grinned, leaning over to whisper in his ear, watching the nearby Hufflepuff table, "Told
you, Susan's wearing green, and Hannah pink stripes."

Woodenly, Neville nodded.

He said nothing for the remainder of the meal, pointedly avoiding looking directly at any
female face.

Though, as he headed up to the Tower, Harry was glad to see he was trying (and mostly
successfully) hiding an erection of his own, along with a wide smile he was hiding much less
successfully.

Enjoy, mate.
No doubt, there would be closed curtains, both locked and silenced, when he arrived later.

The tables had just begun to really clear when Harry felt a familiar flutter of wings ghost
across his back before an invisible form dropped into the now-empty spot Neville had left
twenty minutes earlier.

Harry glanced around, confirming once again that there was no-one within several places of
their trio, before whispering out loud, "Hello, Lilith."

Hermione and Ron stiffened briefly, then relaxed, both their eyes glancing about to try and
find her.

She, still invisible to each of them, giggled quietly, "Hello, Master, and Master's delicious-
looking friends."

Both Ron and Hermione blushed, looked at each other, blushed further, then down at their
dessert-filled plate and book respectively.

Harry grinned, "You know she's messing with you guys, right?"

He joined the Succubus in laughing quietly when both blushes deepened further still.

"Though," Lilith purred just loud enough for them all to hear, "I do think you look good
enough to... eat. All of you."

Hermione swallowed, though Ron glanced up, suddenly half-eager, though a little nervous, as
well.

"What do you need, Lilith?" Harry asked, trying to keep her from making Hermione's blood
pressure shoot through the roof, or cause an argument with an invisible creature in the Great
Hall.

Though, now that he thought about it, maybe no one would blame her in her O.W.L. year.

"Just letting you know that I need to borrow you after dinner, say for an hour. Then I'll need...
recharging. The plan's ready to go, ahead of schedule. Once- well, once something started
happening, it happened faster than I expected. I'd still rather wait until your exams begin in
earnest, though."

"Okay," Harry agreed at once.

Nothing more was said, though Harry watched idly as a bit of food from his plate vanished
into thin air and the faint noise of chewing was heard from his other side.

After a few minutes, Hermione asked quietly, "Lilith? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, beautiful," the Succubus replied at once, "I'm willing. Er... to answer."

Hermione frowned while Ron and Harry shared a smirk and glance. Lilith clearly knew how
to get under Hermione's skin, so to speak.
Puns were highly effective, for example, even if they weren't at all subtle.

Flattery, too, if only because it unsettled the girl so.

Not least, Harry suspected, because while Hermione might not be sure, Harry knew the
demoness meant it- and far more literally than the witch probably thought.

"Well, I... I was just wondering what you were going to do when your deal with Harry is up.
You- you Contracted, right? Until Vol- V-Voldemort's defeat?"

A small arm wrapped through his while she answered, still just quietly enough for them to
hear, "I haven't any idea, yes, and yes. Probably go back home, since I won't be able to stay
indefinitely at that point."

"And... Harry couldn't summon you again?"

This time, there was a long pause, and when she answered, Lilith's voice sounded almost
unsure. "Probably not. There's a chance, of course, but of those able to take Contracts among
my people, there's perhaps five hundred. Our total population is less than thirty thousand, the
entire species. The odds alone are not good. Maybe, maybe, my Master could figure out a
way to get me in particular. It's been done before. Our records, however, no matter how far
into our history we go, have no mention of the method. It's not common, in any case. Far
more common are those wizards who choose long-term, or open-ended Contracts, like
Master, here."

"His Contract is open-ended?" Ron asked, thankfully with an empty mouth, for his plate was
suddenly empty of desserts and he did not refill it.

"Of course," Hermione whispered, glancing between Harry, Ron, and Harry's left where, he
guessed, the bright girl had sussed out the demoness was sitting, "Voldemort's defeat, or
death, or whatever. If, say, he never dies... then Lilith stays."

"Precisely," the rosette said, phasing slightly into view so Harry could watch as she blew the
girl a kiss that Hermione could not have seen due to the remaining invisibility. "There are a
few problems with that, loopholes I've thought of since then, that would allow me to get out
earlier if I wanted to, without taking Master with me if I wanted- but why would I do that? I
also have no intention of doing so, so don't worry your heads about it. I and my people are
better off if I stay for a long while."

"But don't you have family, friends, back home?" Harry asked, suddenly guilt-ridden once
again he'd ripped someone from everything and everyone they knew for his own sick
pleasure.

"Of course," Lilith shrugged, answering easily as she took another bite of his treacle tart,
"and I'll see them again. We don't age, you know? At least, not after maturity. We aren't what
you'd call 'mortal'. My lifespan- young for a Succubus- is still several times yours, and that
changes one's perspective, I think. If I spent your entire wizarding lifetime, say, two hundred
Earth years, on the outside, it'd be like spending... maybe three years in a foreign land for my
people. It's a long time, and I'll certainly miss them, but it's not like I won't see them again, or
they, me."

"But, but still..." Harry muttered, "I took you away-"

Lilith dropped a hand onto his groin, tickling him lightly, while looking up pointedly, "If you
recall, Master, and for your friends' benefit, I told you this on the night I was summoned- I
volunteered to come, to answer your call. You 'took me away' only because I wanted to come.
It wasn't a kidnapping, more like you being my taxi and now my 'boss'."

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all blinked in surprise.

"Er... how, exactly?" Harry asked.

Lilith shrugged, "Think about it. I wanted to come here, to provide 'material' for our world to
expand, to create more of my kind, et cetera. It's considered a noble thing to us, and I'll be
lauded as a hero for doing it. Not to mention, I've been quite successful so far, and we're just
getting started. You called, and provided the ritual allowing me to come, thus the taxi
service."

"And- the boss?"

Lilith looked to Hermione, smiling, and blew her another kiss for the question, "Our Contract
requires me to assist my Master in defeating- ending, killing, destroying- your Dark Lord
person, and in satisfying him sexually, and so on. There's several things. You could call it
prostitution, in a way, because I'm getting 'paid', but what I'm getting paid in is vital materials
for my world, and pleasure of my own. It's also, in a way, mercenary work. That I genuinely
like my Master is a significant bonus. That I also seem to enjoy the company of his company-
you two included- is another large side-bonus. I have no complaints about being here."

"Your world sounds like a weird place," Hermione shrugged. "Anyway, I think it's time we
went up to the Tower, Ron."

"Use the Room of Requirement," Lilith suggested, "Try something new."

"Er- I wasn't planning-" Hermione blushed.

Ron interrupted, "Sounds good. Shall we, Hermione?" Before she could respond verbally, he
took her hand across the table, over Harry's and Lilith's heads, and started leading her, arms
outstretched and practically jogging to keep up.

"H- Harry! Ron! My book!"

"I've got it," Harry called with a laugh, reaching across to close it and pick it up, tucking it
under his arm as he stood. "Alright, Lilith, lead the way."

He jumped, just slightly, when her small hand fell on his bum and started pushing him,
invisible once again, toward the doors after his friends.
Only she led him up only one flight up stairs, down two different corridors, and down three
flights into the far reaches of the dungeons of the castle before stopping at a doorway at the
end of a dark, ill-lit and rarely-used hall. "This," Lilith said, coming fully into view, and fully
clothed, for once, in clothes that most fully resembled a Hogwarts' robe for a first-year, in
size, coloration, and lack of House colors, "is where we will find Professor Snape, in the
throes of a dire illness. Master, I'll warn you now- he's not clothed. I have a barrier set up so
you won't see too much if you go only into the room as far as letting the door shut, but if you
go much further, you might see more of the old bat than you want."

"Er... do I want to know what you're doing?"

"Probably not," Lilith answered cheerfully, pushing open the door, "But you need to know for
the plan to work in case something goes wrong, so follow me. Try not to talk above a whisper
once we're inside. It might... excite him."

Indeed, Harry could plainly see the sallow, gaunt face and greasy, lanky hair of Professor
Severus Snape, plus his bare torso and arms, equally sallow and horribly pale, with both arms
shackled to the dungeon walls, stretched out from his body.

A body which twitched spasmodically, dark, glassy eyes transfixed on some point on the
other side of a simple wooden barrier that blocked the rest of him from view, but which he
could easily walk around either side.

There was literally nothing else in the room aside from a candle in each corner, of the same
style as the Great Hall. Likely, Harry knew, they were candles from the Great Hall, as the
House Elves renewed them frequently and none would ever complain if some errant student
or other absconded with a few for light in some night-time activity.

Like, for example, Fred and George Weasley. Or himself.

Among others.

Harry watched, fascinated and dismayed in equal measure, as Lilith, still wearing the guise of
a first-year student, flittered on invisible wings over to Snape and let her familiar pink
powder fall in great swathes.

After just seven seconds, Snape was grunting and groaning, straining against not just the
shackles around his wrists, but what also must have been around his waist and legs, too, for
he didn't move much. His eyes, though, remained fixed on whatever was on the far side of the
barrier, nearly unblinking, while his breathing became hoarse and ragged.

Once Lilith landed beside him once more, she pointed casually, "Don't worry, he's regularly
fed, watered, and relieved. House-Elves are useful, and they apparently can't tell what I am if
I'm dressed as a student. It's weird. He's not even capable of feeling discomfort, though he
might be cramping anyway. I've been dosing him regularly- every couple of hours- for a
week, now. He's in a horrid frenzy, but he hasn't ejaculated even once. His poor heart's about
to give out in a few days, though. It's been working pretty hard."
"Er... why?" Harry asked, genuinely confused, and disgusted. He really didn't want to know
what Snape was thinking about in his lust-frenzy, though.

"He's the bait to bring down your other teacher. And we can get rid of him, too. Sounds good,
right?"

"Er... yes, but..."

"Ah, ah, that would be telling," Lilith grinned, "Now, you should be aware that in a room one
to the left of this one is Professor and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister Dolores
Umbridge. She has been in a similar state, though for nine days instead of seven, and she's far
less healthy than Mr. Snape. Her heart is even closer to giving out, but I've been working to
keep her alive. I don't think your medi-witch has noticed any missing Potions, yet. And no, I
most certainly have not looked to see what she's interested in when aroused. I don't want to
know, either. Snape's... is surprisingly normal, all things considered, for what it's worth.

"Now, here's the basic gist: Come exam time, 'someone' will let it leak to the authorities that
these two are being... promiscuous. In public. There will be enough witnesses to corroborate.
An hour later, images and a story will appear at the offices of your paper, the Daily Prophet,
giving further evidence. The story's already written, though the pictures aren't taken, yet. This
will be a blow to them both, and maybe get Snape sacked. But Umbridge's torture isn't done,
because she's also going to be caught a little later doing something... worse."

Harry gulped and coughed, trying as hard as he could not to vomit up his dinner. "I'm.. I'm
done. You- you do your thing. I'm... I don't need help tonight."

Privately, after hearing what he just had, Harry wondered if he'd ever get an erection again.

Lilith pouted. "That's no fun... I do need a recharge soon, but I can wait a day. And don't I
deserve a reward?"

"I'll... let me get out of here, away from him and- and her, and I'll... I'll try."

"Great! I'll meet you upstairs, Master, later. You... go have fun with your friends. In the
Room, I think. They'll probably let you in."

Harry swallowed, then fled the dungeons and up into the higher reaches of the castle as fast
as he could.

Up in the Gryffindor Common Room, there were, as was more than usual these days, several
students in various stages of snogging or making out, even a few doing so while studying.

Harry was amused to note that, among them, Ginny Weasley- probably the real one- and
Dean were as involved as any while sitting in Harry's favorite chair by the fire.

Yet, he didn't stir. Instead, he headed upstairs to glance into the dormitory. It was empty, aside
from Neville's bed being pointedly silenced and locked as he'd expected, then went back
down and out of the common room.
"No sense not at least trying, I guess," Harry muttered. "Anything to get that out of my
head..."

The Room of Requirement was not there when he arrived, and he spent several minutes, and
three attempts, trying to figure out what either Ron or Hermione might have used to create
the Room before he saw the familiar door slide into existence.

"I really didn't think 'we need a place to shag in relative private' would be it," Harry muttered,
before throwing the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders, using his wand to check for
hidden watchers, and sliding into the room as quietly as he was able.

The place Harry found himself in was surprisingly familiar: a replica, in great detail, of Ron's
bedroom at the Burrow.

The activity involved was slightly less so, as Harry was reasonably sure that Hermione had
never straddled Ron like that, sitting on his face with twitching hips, while her mouth bobbed
on his naked dick, the pair of them stretched out with Ron's head on the pillows of his bed.

Despite the late hour- it was nearing ten at night- sunshine shone through the false window,
leaving the replicated attic room well-lit.

Harry's own cot was still present, though through the now-familiar clutter, he could see a thin
layer of dust, too. Ron's imagination must have created it as it would have been shortly before
Harry's arrival at the Burrow.

Harry continued to watch, feeling himself finally start to respond, for more than a minute
before he shut the door with a soft click.

At once, both of the teenagers on the bed froze.

A moment later, Ron's hips thrust upward, prodding at Hermione's cheek while her empty
mouth and stunned expression looked through Harry. "If he's here, let him watch, Hermione,"
Ron said, "you already know he's a pervert."

Harry was affronted for the barest of moments, before realizing Ron was absolutely right.

Hermione, though, was a bit more hesitant as her shocked worry changed to embarrassment,
"R- Ron, maybe we shouldn't..."

"If you want me to put it in your twat, it's gotta be in your mouth, first," Ron said sternly.

Hermione, to Harry's surprise, jerked with her whole body, immediately turning back to
licking and then sucking on Ron's head with her soft, puffy lips, while her right hand stroked
his base.

"That's a good girl," Ron moaned between lapping at Hermione's no doubt dripping cunt,
"show Harry how good you are at sucking cock."

Hermione moaned in protest, but half-way through, her body shuddered atop Ron, making
him chuckle as he hurriedly lapped up more of her juice, until she fell limp over him,
switching to licking up and down the sides and top of his shaft while she caught her breath
from the orgasm. Ron, though, was not satisfied. After giving her a few seconds to recover,
his hands left the girl's shapely, toned rump to fist into her hair and pull toward him, arching
her back, "I said, 'show Harry how good you are at sucking cock,' not 'enjoy my tongue'."

Harry swallowed, shifting nervously as Hermione glanced toward the door, down at the
twitching shaft an inch from her mouth, then the door again. "H- Harry," she said quietly,
"This- this is how good I am at sucking cock."

Then, like she had for him in the false Astronomy Tower, her lips slid down Ron's dick to
meet his scrotum, nesting in the thick, ginger hair there.

She coughed slightly as she bottomed out, but maintained the position while Ron groaned, his
own hips pushing up ever so slightly. "That's it, good girl. You've been practicing hard. Thirty
seconds."

While he spoke, Ron's hands left Hermione's hair, one to slide down her back and then slip
two fingers into her dripping cunt while his head raised again to lick at her clit. The other, the
one on Harry's side, moved to cup the slightly-swaying mound of Hermione's breast before
giving it a firm squeeze, "You've got great tits, Hermione. Show Harry your tits."

She waited, and Harry realized that, like Ron had ordered, she was holding him in her mouth,
at full penetration, for the entire thirty seconds while her face turned darker red, before
pulling off with a wet sucking sound and a loud gasp for air, before sitting up fully on Ron's
face, turning her torso toward Harry.

He watched, fascinated, penis now fully erect- or straining to be in his trousers- while
Hermione, hips gyrating against Ron's mouth, cupped and then began to massage her own
breasts, pulling her nipples gently, speaking as if to the air (not quite in his direction, but
close), "These are my tits, Harry. I like them, I think, and Ron does, too. Do you like them?"

Harry didn't really want to answer, because he didn't want to ruin the show.

But he'd been conditioned, by the Dursleys, and years of schooling, to answer direct
questions. "Fuck yeah, Hermione, they're amazing."

Both Ron and Hermione jumped, but this time, only Hermione flushed deeper.

Eyes fixed not just on Hermione's breasts, but on where Ron's mouth continued to work her
hairy groin, he could just make out Ron's smile.

"H- Harry!"

"Fuck, that's hot, Hermione," Harry murmured, shrugging off the Cloak and letting it pool
around his legs while he 'wanted' a lock, already locked, and a magically-immobile bar to
appear holding the door closed from the outside.

She was still entirely still as she watched him appear, terrified, shamed eyes watching him as
he stepped over to Ron's desk and pulled out the chair, spinning it to sit down with legs
spread, and moving one hand to grip his erection through his pants.

Ron's hand lightly slapping her arse made Hermione jump again, and she lifted herself
slightly, "R- Ron, Harry's-"

"Here, yeah," Ron said, voice amused, "Let him watch."

"B- But-" she protested, even while clambering awkwardly- Harry found it sensual all the
same- off of Ron.

"But nothing," Ron said sternly, cutting her off, "You've already told me you fantasized about
it. Well, it's a dream come true, then. You want us both, you said, and we both want you. I'm
not ready for a full-on with Harry, but I want him to watch me fuck you, make sure there's no
jealousy. Then, I'm gonna watch him do you, for the same reason. Then we can move on, if
we all still want to."

Harry grinned at Hermione's shell-shocked expression, but he waited until Ron had coaxed
her to sit on the edge of the bed, then lay back, and he lay on his side, both starkers, with his
head propped on his right arm while both looked at Harry.

Ron, it seemed, was entirely unabashed to be naked in front of his best friend, at least in this
situation (he'd always been fairly modest in the showers), while Hermione was probably
more than a little mortified, but willing to go along with displaying herself for both of them at
the same time, anyway.

"Now, Hermione," Ron said, glancing at Harry as he trailed his left fingertips up and down
first her side, then her stomach, before moving up to lightly graze and circle her breasts,
"show Harry you can suck your own tits, too."

Harry swallowed. The very idea- how had he never thought of that?

He wasn't even thinking about resisting the urge to free his erection by the time a hesitant
Hermione had lifted her left breasts and squeezed only at the top, pulling the nipple into her
mouth. She began to suckle herself with a moan, while Ron's fingers tweaked her other side,
then drifted down, so slowly, to tickle into her pubic hair and slide along the still glistening
folds. "You're damned wet, Hermione. Even more than when I was licking you. You like it
this much, being watched?"

"I, I don- I... yes," Hermione protested, then gasped, her pelvis jerking upward into Ron's
fingers on the last word.

Ron glanced at Harry and waggled his eyebrows, "Hear that, mate? She wants you to watch.
Jerk off, I'm gonna fuck her for you."

Before Harry could wrap his fingers around his throbbing length, he gasped at the sight of
Ron's long, relatively thin penis lancing into Hermione's soaking cunt. She jerked when he
was not quite fully in, then moaned. "You can take the rest," Ron grunted, then thrust in
further.
He watched most of Hermione's body, what was not covered by his best friend, tense in what
might have been pain- it was hard to tell- but she did, indeed, take all of Ron's not
inconsiderable length inside her.

He moaned, staying still for a few seconds, "So fucking tight. Merlin, Hermione... you like
that, Harry?"

"Yeah," he said breathily, hand now beating a steady rhythm on his shaft.

Umbridge and Snape aside, he could only remember being this aroused once- when he'd first
had Daphne and Lilith, under the influence of her own Fog of Lust.

Yet he had little interest in interrupting, of plumbing Hermione's depths for himself. It was
more important to see how this would play out.

Ron began moving, pumping slowly, taking four or five seconds to come almost all the way
out, then back in, where he would stay for a couple of seconds, before resuming.

Perhaps a minute in, Harry felt another presence enter the room, coming right through the
door as if it weren't there. Master. That's... nice, I'll admit, feeling what you feel. Please tell
me you'll let me have him, and her, too? She's so horny, and he's... even worse off than you. I
can't believe he hasn't finished already.

"Soon," he whispered without looking at Lilith, who he knew would be invisible, anyway.
Instead, he felt her fly up into the rafters of the fake ceiling, no doubt to diddle herself while
she watched.

It's what he would do, anyway.

What he was doing.

Ron shifted so he was more upright, pulling his feet onto the floor so he was nearly standing,
legs spread, and pulled Hermione's legs around his waist, to free his hands to grope and
caress Hermione's generous chest. His breathing was increasing, but Harry suspected that,
despite the sucking earlier, Ron was still a long way off.

Harry didn't mind, it would prolong his own fun.

In fact, he realized, he was having fun lightly stroking himself while watching Ron and
Hermione shag. He grinned- he could do this. He could let Lilith shag Ron, too. Or- maybe
anyone, like he suspected she wanted.

He might, in a few weeks, even encourage it, if he could watch, and have her after. Or before.

Ron leaned forward, now sucking and pulling at Hermione's left breast with his teeth and
lips, prodding and pinching, twisting her other nipple with his free hand, then increased his
thrusting to a rapid pace before slowing, then kept alternating between very fast and very
slow, making Hermione moan as she started to writhe beneath him, panting, "R- Ron... Ron...
f- f-fuc-fuuuuck..."
Harry looked up toward the rafters and mouthed, "Fog?"

A few seconds later, No, this is all them, echoed through his mind.

Harry grinned, then stood from the chair, continuing to stroke himself as he walked carefully
to stand on Ron's left, at the foot of the bed, for a better view of Hermione's body.

Ron glanced up from her chest, grinning, "Jealous yet, mate?"

"No," Harry said with a smile, "Though I want a turn after. You're right, Hermione is fucking
sexy."

"Hot, too, and really, really wet," Ron chuckled in reply, slipping the hand that had been at
her breast down between them, pulling it up slick with sticky, clear fluid. Then he stuck the
fingers in Hermione's mouth while she gasped.

She froze, then started licking at his fingers furiously. When he pulled them out after several
seconds, Hermione whispered, voice shaking with his thrusts and her own lust, "I- I always
wondered what... I taste pretty good."

"Like honey," Harry said.

Ron smiled, "Yeah, good honey. You close, Hermione?"

She nodded against the bed, eyes flickering to Harry standing over them both, "H- Harry, do-
do you want Ron to come in me, like- like you did? He hasn't, yet."

Harry debated for all of five seconds.

It was a complicated question, fraught with decisions.

But in the end... "I want you both to enjoy each other," he eventually said, "however you
want. I'll enjoy you, too, Hermione. No offense, Ron."

"None taken," Ron grunted, "I don't wanna shag you, either, Harry."

Then he abruptly withdrew from Hermione and flipped her over, tugging down on her hips so
her knees dangled just above the floor, and pushed back in from behind.

"F- Fuuck, Ron!" Hermione cried, "So- so deep!"

The red-head looked over at Harry, grinning madly, then gave Hermione's arse a light slap,
"Language, Hermione!"

Something about the scolding sent her over the edge.

Hermione went very, very tense, then began to tremble.

Harry heard her begin to keen, almost inaudibly high, but rising in volume and lowering in
pitch for several seconds.
The tightening of her walls was too much for Ron, as well, who grunted and, still pumping,
roared as he ejaculated wildly into Hermione's pussy.

Harry continued to stroke, hand blurring with his very light touch. He didn't want to finish
too fast, he had to enjoy Hermione, first, then probably Lilith, if he had his way.

After several seconds, Hermione fell still aside from gasping for breath, while Ron slowly
pulled his half-soft member out with a squelch, followed by several thick dripping sounds.
Harry, at once, stepped around to beside Ron, both watching as Hermione's labia, swollen and
still twitching, oozed thick, white fluid, which ran down the faux bedspread to splatter onto
the floor in an irregular puddle.

Master, ask her if she trusts you. You'll both enjoy it- you all will.

Harry did not hesitate, but glanced at Ron with a grin, still caressing, now just with his
fingertips to slow down his own arousal, while he looked down at the spent girl, "Hermione,
do you trust me?"

"'C- Course I do," she murmured, fighting to get the words out even several seconds after the
shatteringly-powerful orgasm.

Tell her to hold still, then, and just let it happen.

"Let it happen, then," Harry said, "just hold- hold still."

Only then did Harry see Lilith glide down, visible, on silent and hidden wings, to stand where
Harry had at the foot of the bed.

Only she did not look like the pixie-ish girl Harry usually enjoyed.

Instead, aside from the pink hair in a pixie cut the Succubus sported, she more resembled the
tall, buxom and curvy form Ron liked.

In fact, she looked like...

"Lavender?" he mouthed in Lilith's direction, knowing both of his friends could not see from
there.

She grinned, nodding, then walked around, as the school uniform faded to nothing, and
gently pushed Harry and Ron aside before kneeling between Hermione's still-open legs.

The dainty-looking, though larger, hands fell on Hermione's arse first, giving each a gentle
squeeze, then, without asking for further permission, Lilith dived in, giving a great lick with a
preternaturally large, pink tongue from Hermione's engorged clitoris up to her arse, gathering
a great wad of Ron's semen with it. She turned toward the red-haired boy, winked, then made
a great show of pulling the four-inch appendage into her mouth and swallowing the lot,
before diving back in with gusto.

Hermione had yelped and tried to jerk away with the first lick, but despite her focusing on
Ron, Lilith's strength was more than enough to hold her there. Her protest died in her throat
as the licking resumed, and more-so when the Succubus added first one, then two, fingers,
plunging them in and out of the gaping snatch while twisting and wiggling independently of
each other.

Ron's semi-flaccid member was already nearly fully hard again, Harry could tell without
looking, for he too was once again stroking it, their motions nearly coinciding.

Then, just as Hermione was nearing what would have probably been a truly mind-blowing
climax, Lilith backed away, hopped to her feet, and clothes reappeared once more on her
body. "All yours, Master."

"Why did you stop, you slut?" Hermione whispered, then gasped and covered her mouth with
one hand, looking over her shoulder, horrified at what she'd said.

Harry, though, smiled kindly, "Because she knows what I want, Hermione. I wanted her to
stop, because I want my turn. Are you ready?"

"W- With Ron? And- and-"

"Yes," Harry said solemnly, "Like he said, this is what we both think we need. I wasn't
jealous, but we all know- again no offense, Ron-"

"None taken."

"-That he's the one with the bigger jealousy issues. If this- if this is okay, then we'll be okay
with this."

"It makes sense," Lilith interjected before the girl could protest, "And besides- to be totally
fair, you need to see Ron shag me, too, if Master's okay with it."

With wide eyes, Hermione swallowed, then buried her face in the bedspread for a moment.
Then she pushed herself up and sat on the edge of the bed. "Al- Alright. You're right. Yes,
Harry, Lilith got me ready again. Whenever- however you want, Master."

She might have been teasing, but Harry quite enjoyed hearing that word, now, especially
from someone he was about to shag. "Then on your knee- no. Like Ron, I want your mouth
first, but I want you to be on the bed. Put your head hanging off the end."

He'd done this once with Lilith, but never with a living human.

And he already knew Hermione could take him all the other way. If she could take Ron this
way, then...

It was awkward for her to maneuver that way, but once she had Ron grinned alongside Harry,
"Damn, that's a useful position."

Harry didn't reply verbally. Instead, he looked to his right at Ron, who was casually leaning
against his dresser while jerking himself without a care for those watching, then looked
down, using his left hand to point himself downward.
The moment his head touched Hermione's lips, she opened her mouth, and he slipped in.

Her tongue, ribbed and rough, felt glorious against his overly-sensitive head, and the extra
pressure provided by the position there was even better.

But only as he fully bottomed out, passing Hermione's tonsils and going more than two
inches into her throat, did he remember he was a fair bit wider than Ron.

Hermione's throat reflexively pulsed around him as she gagged, but he, more due to his own
sudden spike in ecstasy than Lilith's lessons, stayed for a few seconds, then forced himself to
pull out, leaving Hermione to gasp.

Her eyes were watering, but she did not protest. Instead, while he watched her from above,
she opened her mouth again after several seconds. "Come in, Master."

He grinned, then pushed in slower this time, taking several seconds to fully enjoy the texture
of her cheeks as she inhaled around him, the seal of her lips, still wet and swollen, around his
shaft, the tonsils as they glided, even rougher than her tongue, and the base of the girl's uvula
as it slid along his urethra.

She swallowed, and he started to pull out, but Ron said, "Thirty seconds."

Before Harry could stop moving outward, Hermione's own hands fell on his ass, pushing him
the inch or so back in, holding him as far as she could go.

Harry groaned, almost collapsing from the pleasure, then realized it would be safer if he...
braced himself.

He did so by leaning down to fondle the girl's chest, tugging both nipples up at once,
releasing them, then going to pull both together, and apart, up and down alternatingly, then
together, before slapping the outsides of both gently so the soft flesh bounced against each
other in fascinating ripples.

"And, thirty," Ron announced.

But Harry stayed there for five more seconds, smiling as Hermione started to panic, her
throat constricting on him more and more often, tighter and tighter.

Then he jerked backward, "Thirty-five."

Hermione gasped, but Harry sank to his knees, pressing his lips to hers upside down and
whispered while she still gasped, "That was fucking amazing. You're amazing. Stand up."

He beat her to his feet, gesturing with his head and eyes for Ron to sit on the chair he'd left
facing the bed.

Ron shrugged, still stroking madly, and obeyed, leaving his long legs splayed out for balance.
Harry then sat with his knees on the edge of the bed, almost facing Ron and Lilith, who,
somehow, was not pleasuring herself, and stayed fully clothed in what Harry was coming to
call her 'adult form', leaving the girls the only ones standing in the room.
Then he guided Hermione by the waist with one hand to stand between his own outstretched
legs, one foot nearly touching Ron's, and turned her to face their friend.

"Sit on it," he commanded then, firmly. Not as stern, perhaps, as Ron had done.

Hermione, though, immediately complied, reaching a hand down to guide him into her
depths.

She sank down completely with a shudder and cry, "O- Oh!", the same hand holding his base
and lightly cupping his balls while she trembled with a minor orgasm.

"You're right, Ron," Harry said over her shoulder, still grinning, "She is wet and hot. You-
you okay so far?"

Neither Hermione nor Harry moved any further while Ron's eyes roved over the girl,
occasionally shooting glances at Harry's face, or over toward Lilith. Mostly, though, like
Harry, his eyes stayed locked on the place where their bodies joined.

Eventually, he took a deep, shuddering breath of his own, then nodded, "Yeah, I am. Fuck
him, Hermione. Ride his dick."

Harry and Hermione saw Lilith grin, then take a step back, out of Ron's line of sight as her
clothes vanished into wisps of pink smoke that rapidly faded from view.

That was all she did for a while, just allowing Hermione to get used to seeing her like this
while she started to squirm and gyrate her cunt and hips in Harry's lap.

His hands started to roam, first up and down Hermione's sides, using the backs and fronts of
his fingers and palm, then her thighs down to the knee, and even her arms, inside and out,
before snaking around to rest one over her belly while the other hovered at the bottom of her
breasts, allowing both to bounce against it, giving the girl small stabs of pleasure there, too,
with every rise and fall on his engorged member.

Harry enjoyed the strawberry smell of Hermione's shampoo as her thick hair covered his
face. After a few seconds of her bouncing on him, he leaned in to begin biting and nibbling at
her sensitive neck and ears, not caring one whit about the impeding hair.

"Are- are you okay, Ron?" Hermione gasped, one hand on Harry's thigh to steady herself, the
other now covering the hand Harry had on her stomach.

Again, Ron nodded, this time quite distracted as he continued to pump himself, the long
fingers wrapping fully around the thin shaft. "Yeah, M'fine. So hot. Fuck'm good, Hermione."

He seemed quite transfixed, in fact, so to give him a further show, Hermione's hand left
Harry's and drifted down, to start rubbing small circles on her clit as she rode against Harry.

Harry groaned as her walls tightened against him, starting to shake. He knew Hermione had
already had two orgasms or more with Ron, and once as he penetrated her. Another might
wear her out, but... He really didn't want to stop!
So he stood up, hands under her thighs, making Hermione squeak in protest and surprise,
before he deposited her back on the bed, "On your hands and knees. Ron, do you want her
facing you, or this cunt we both love?"

"Fuck, I don't care," Ron said, "Just fuck her hard, Harry!"

The raven-haired boy grinned, "Face the pillow, Hermione, now."

She hurried to obey, desperate to have him back inside her, and moaned, "Come on, Harry,
I'm with Ron- just- just do me, hard!"

"Whatever you say, Hermione," he grinned, shooting another glance at Ron, who was now
starting to twitch as he jerked himself wildly.

Then he grabbed Hermione's hips and leaned in, pushing between her thighs for a moment,
pulling out enough for his thick head to slide up her delicious canal, then pushed in as it hit
the right angle.

He and Hermione groaned as one, but this time, Harry was in no mood to let Hermione set
the pace. Instead, he leaned half-forward, reaching around to grab one of the girl's swinging
breasts- he chose the one away from Ron so he could watch them swing- and her hips with
the other, and started pounding.

Each thrust made both of her arse cheeks bounce, and Ron groaned from the chair as he
watched her entire body shake on each down-stroke.

He continued for several minutes, not letting up the pace or force while Hermione cried out,
"Harreeeey!" through another powerful orgasm that lasted at least twenty full seconds.

He was going to just keep going until he was finished, but Lilith's voice intruded on his mind
again, You're a good lover already, Master, but your friend's about to blow. If you want a
show, flip her over to face up. You'll find it worth it, I think.

Reluctantly, he slowed to give a couple of gentle pushes, then pulled out completely and,
using only his strength, flipped Hermione onto her back with a gasp. He then pulled her legs
up onto his shoulders, left then right, and slid his hips forward to begin thrusting again, with
the same vigor as before, making Hermione's breasts jiggle and shake with every thrust.

The change in angle also made Hermione begin to keen again, despite the distraction, while
Harry felt her clench, hard, around him as he continued thrusting.

Ron grunted, then jerked himself upright, taking three staggering steps toward the bed.

With his fist still pumping on his erection, Ron aimed downward and, hips convulsing along
with his dick, shot five, six, seven thick wads of cream onto Hermione, which landed on her
stomach, each breast, her left cheek, nose, and throat.

Lilith was right, Harry thought as his own climax rocketed closer, it was worth the show.
Seeing Hermione not just gasping from one orgasm after another as she squirmed around his
cock was great. Seeing her doing all that while covered in Ron's jizz was far better.

He grunted and gave one last, hard thrust as far in as he could go, emptying himself without
pulling out one whit, pulsing and flexing his own semen deep into Hermione's core.

Only as he slowly eased himself out did he realize Hermione was quite unconscious.

He, too, felt more than a little dizzy, and Ron and fallen back into the chair where he panted,
red-faced.

Lilith, still in her 'adult form' and clothed, stepped to the middle of the room and looked
around at the three humans, ending with Hermione, "I think I'll leave yours where it is,
Master- Hermione earned it. Ron... you might want to watch this."

Light brown eyes raised slightly, then with great force as Lilith scooped up the semen he'd
deposited on Hermione's cheek with her pointer finger and brought it to her lips, licking it off
with relish.

Then she leaned down, one hand behind her back and the other on the bed for balance, and
started licking at the rest. For those on Hermione's breasts, which she had saved for last, the
Succubus looked directly at Ron while she positioned her mouth over each and inhaled the
last few gobs, before smacking her lips with relish and showing him the white, sticky residue.

By the time she was finished, both boys were rock-hard again.

"I- I don't know if I can do another," Ron gasped, glancing with envy at Harry, who showed
only the basest signs of tiredness, despite it being something like midnight.

"Stamina runes," Lilith explained to Harry’s questioning look, "I need to upgrade yours,
soon- I probably can while you sleep tonight, with what I'll gather. Ron, if Master agrees, I
can give the same to you. What he has now, anyway. It can't be full strength since I'm not
Contracted to you."

"St- Stamina Runes?" Hermione weakly murmured.

"Indeed," Lilith said, sitting next to the girl's head and lightly stroking her hair, crossing the
skirt-clad legs casually, "It's one of the reasons Master lasts so long despite his relative
inexperience and age, and why he recovers so quickly. I did the base one the first night to
improve him for myself, of course, but also others. I already knew he wouldn't be happy with
just me."

Harry grimaced. "That makes me sound selfish."

"You have a fuckin' right to be, mate," Ron grumbled, though Harry was happy he could tell
any frustration wasn't directed at him, "this world's dealt you a shit hand. If you have a
Succubus who wants to get you shagged rotten to make up for it, take it. I'm not sayin' it's
right for everyone, but as long as you don't go abusing it- and it's you, so I don't think you
would- then why the hell not?"
"I can't believe I'm going to say this," Hermione said, "But I mostly agree with Ron. Just- just
be careful you aren't- well, catching things."

"On that score," Lilith said softly, "I can help. In fact, for all three of you, if you're willing,
Hermione. I'll need your own squirt- climax fluid- for your runes, Hermione, but I can protect
all three of you from whatever can affect humans- magical or not- disease-wise. You'll
literally be immune to any kind of disease."

"Er- I-" Hermione said softly, "I- I mean, I- I did enjoy- earlier, but..."

"But you aren't sure if you want a girl- even a non-human- making you orgasm?" Lilith asked
quietly.

Slowly, Hermione nodded.

"Not to worry," Lilith shrugged, clearly not offended, "You don't have to. As long as you
aren't shagging anyone but me and these two, you won't catch anything once theirs are done.
And it only takes once, forever. That kind of rune doesn't fade."

"What- what kind of runes are they?" Hermione asked, slowly coming to as her brain was
forced to engage.

"My kind," Lilith shrugged again, "The language of my people. I can teach you, maybe, but
it's of limited use without my own power- or any Succubus, really- adding to it, much like I
can't use your runes as effectively."

"Oh. Well, I'd still like to learn, if you and Harry don't mind," Hermione said, slowly levering
herself upright with a wince and a hand on her abdomen. "I think one of you left me a
present. I still feel- full."

Harry guiltily raised a hand. "S- Sorry, I didn't ask."

Hermione, to his surprise, shook her head, "It's not a risk, for me. I'm on the pill, and for
magicals, it's more effective than even the Potion. I'm not sure why."

"The- pill?" Ron asked.

"Muggle birth control," Hermione explained, "91.7% success rate, but it's 98.9999% in
magicals. Something about the Progestin, I think. It might be magical in nature. It's not really
important, though. What's important is that, for the time being, I can't become pregnant.
Probably. Best not to chance it too much, though."

Ron smiled, "So that's why. Alright. Well, don't worry about it too much- I liked spraying
you, and doing it in your mouth, too."

Hermione rolled her eyes, looking about as if to decide if she should bother covering her
nakedness now that they weren't actively copulating. In the end, though, she just sat on the
bed with her legs closed between Harry and Lilith. Harry was still partially dressed in boxers,
but his member, half-erect, still stood out, like Ron's, from his legs.
No one said anything for several seconds, until Ron yawned. "W- Well, unless we want to do
another round now- and I wouldn't mind- we should probably get to bed. I'll sleep through
History, but we have double Charms after that, and even Flitwick's become a bit of a
taskmaster."

"Boys," Hermione muttered when Harry agreed.

They were still remarkably casual with each other's state of undress while they remedied that
very situation, Lilith even handing a lightly-blushing Hermione her knickers when they had
apparently disappeared in her and Ron's initial fervor to get started- how they had landed up
in the rafters, Harry could only guess- though he had his ideas.
 Building Tension and Trust
Chapter Summary

A frank discussion about boundaries and other fun subjects, an application of Succubi
magic, and some friendly fun pave the way for more, deeper explorations for Harry and
to a lesser extent, Ron.
All of that, and a final bit of set-up, builds toward the culmination of Harry and Lilith's
revenge against their persecutor...

A/N: IMPORTANT NOTE, TRIGGER WARNINGS apply for this chapter above the
usual. It involves mentions of underaged sex, and a frank discussion of such. The views
expressed by the characters in this work of fiction are not shared by the author, the owners of
this website, and should not be taken as fact. They are simply the views of a fictional
character who lives in the author's head.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 7: Building Tension and Trust

Harry was not quite done that evening, though. Fortunately, Lilith was always willing,
because watching her kiss first Seamus, then Dean, then Neville (who was bare from the
torso up, at least, though thankfully under his blanket) was... not the hardship Harry might
have expected, but he was still not ready to see any of the rest of them shag his newest friend-
or at least, the one who was helping him the most. Has it really only been fifteen days, he
wondered to himself, seems like a lifetime, in some ways.

Yet, checking his dates mentally, it was true: just over two weeks prior, near midnight, he'd
summoned Lilith. He'd lost his virginity to Daphne mere minutes after the stroke of midnight,
and... He smiled, looking back, while Lilith gave both him and Ron a chance to change their
minds. "Ronald," she reminded them, "this Rune will be permanent, for you. It will be
invisible, but there will be some- other Succubi, those related- who will know that you are
branded. In a way, it is sort of like marking you as 'mine', though I personally lay no claim to
you beyond someone I'd like to have sex with at some point or points. But it will be flavored
with my magic, and there will be those in your world who respond well to that- and those
who disapprove. But it will work."

Ron nodded, "R- Right. So, what would I need to do then? And what does the Rune do,
exactly?"

Lilith gestured toward Harry from where she stood in the middle of the room, Harry sitting
half-dressed with pyjamas off and boxers on atop his bed with The Dark Arts Outsmarted
open next to him, though he wasn't reading very hard. "Master's Stamina Rune, right now,
allows him several benefits. Shorter refraction time- he recovers more quickly, about fifty
percent- as well as lasting longer while in the act. Sex and related acts use less energy for
him, as well as providing him a 'battery' of sorts to use in doing so. Basically, it lets him have
sex more often and for longer periods while becoming less tired. Being a Succubus, that's
where the greatest benefit lies, but it does have some effect on any consumption of physical
energy or exertion. He can run faster and farther without getting tired, for example, just not to
the extent it's altered his sexual prowess."

"And- and that's what you want to give me?"

Lilith shrugged, "If you want it. It doesn't cost me anything but some time, and as I explained
to Master earlier, I'm freed up for the next day or so. It'll take maybe... twenty minutes."

"Okay," Ron acknowledged, "And you said it takes... some of Hermione's 'juice' to do hers?
Does that mean it takes...?"

Lilith nodded once, "Yes, I'll need some of your semen. I can use what I licked off Hermione
earlier, but it's better if I can get it fresh. I'll leave that up to Master."

Harry, barely even pretending to read at that point, looked up, shooting each a measuring
gaze. Then he shrugged with one shoulder, "Do what you want to do. I don't really think of
you as a slave, you know? If you want to shag Ron, go ahead. Just come- come help me out,
after."

"I don't need to shag him, Master," Lilith purred, sending him a saucy wink that Harry found
particularly sexy, but also strangely incongruous given her all-but prepubescent form, "I'll
save that 'till you're more comfortable with the idea. There are other ways." Lilith then turned
back toward Ron, her Hogwarts-style robes vanishing into mist once more, then reached
down to tug him upright with one arm.

"Er, what are-" Ron started to ask, but Lilith put a dainty finger on his lips to silence the
teenaged boy, then lay down on the bed and patted her stomach, "Sit here, Ronald, facing my
head."

Ron obeyed, confused at first, but with a growing erection all the same. Clearly, Ron found
this aspect of Lilith, despite not being as voluptuous as he seemed to prefer, still at least a
little exciting and arousing.

Harry, too, was growing erect once more, but he was doing his best to ignore it. He really did
want to finish this chapter before bed, and it was already late. Not to mention, he also wanted
to give Ron some fun. He'd been a good friend for years, after all, and his 'best mate', despite
all the troubles between them, mostly in the last year.

Now, though, Harry was happy his friend was starting to mature, catch up almost, and realize
all the good things he had that Harry did not, like a family.

"Now," Lilith instructed once Ron was straddling her, "put that long dick between my breasts,
and use them."

Ron blinked, Harry looked up to see tiny Lilith's breasts swell to roughly Susan Bones' size,
which looked both sexy as hell and ridiculous on her body. Then, eyes wide with amazement
at the new world of possibilities that had just opened up to his fifteen-year-old mind,
complied.

At first he was hesitant and slow, but Lilith squeezing her engorged- Harry would have
guessed somewhere along the lines of an E-cup, if he had to guess- breasts together with both
hands while tweaking the nipples enraptured both of the males awake in the room.

Ron quickly started hammering away, his own hands joining Lilith's, then eventually
replacing them, as they went to work her own genitals with her and Harry's growing arousal.

Arousal which spiked when Lilith started letting her tongue dart out to caress the underside
of Ron's long penis on every upstroke, doing so for about a minute before she opened her
mouth fully to let his swollen head pass her lips.

"Merlin," Ron gasped, "Can't- can't believe how fuckin' sexy this is."

"I know," Harry answered, just as amazed to be watching it from across the room, his right
hand now squeezing his own hard-on, still inside his boxers.

Ron, despite his earlier pair of orgasms, did not last long under Lilith's exceedingly skilled
ministrations, exploding all over her breasts, neck, chin, and into her waiting mouth, too.
Lilith made quite a show of swallowing what went inside and licking more of it off her
prodigious chest, before scooping up the rest of the leavings into the palm of one hand and
gesturing with her head, "Alright, stud, off you get. Lay down on the bed- you'll need to be
nude. You'll probably also pass out, so push your blankets down to the foot so we can cover
you."

If Ron was surprised by the sudden change in Lilith's tone from wanton to business-like, he
tried not to show it, instead hurrying to obey.

If she'd just done that for me, I think I'd be doing whatever she wanted, too, Harry thought
with a smile, turning back to his book for the time being.
He was still partially listening and watching while Lilith dabbed her right pointer finger in
the still-steaming jizz and started writing with it directly above the thatch of hair, even over
the line of it, that adorned Ron's groin, whispering softly under her breath while she did so.

Within seconds, perhaps aided by the multiple orgasms, or perhaps because of Lilith's magic,
Ron was asleep.

Harry, for his part, at least finished the chapter before he sat upright and allowed his now-
flagging member (he'd stopped squeezing when Lilith had finished milking Ron for all he had
left) to flop partially out the flap of his boxers. He watched Lilith carefully in the moonlight
coming through the window and the single candle he had been reading by, admiring her
current form even as it slowly receded to her normal one.

"How come," he eventually asked in a near-whisper, despite knowing the other boys in the
room were to busy enjoying their erotic, Succubus-caused sleep and dreams to wake up for
nearly anything, "I'm so turned on by the- the younger-looking you, and Ron's not?"

Lilith shrugged in her work, re-tracing the rune for what must have been the hundredth time,
"Several reasons, I'm sure. For one, people- even Succubi- are different. I know humans
frown on physical affection- sex- with children, and I, for my part, agree. You aren't what I'd
call a child, none of you are. If there's grass on the field, play ball, is an expression we
learned from your people. There can be health risks for girls who have children too young, or
even intercourse too young, but that doesn't change what you're attracted to. Am I not
alluring, still?"

She sent a wink his way to illustrate that she knew full well the answer, making Harry blush
slightly. "Of course you are, it's just... I'm not sure why I like the younger form more. It's not
even much more, but enough I notice."

"Maybe," Lilith said carefully, "It's because you were younger when you started 'noticing'
girls, than your friend, so you were attracted to people your own age? It happens. Then you
become somewhat- fixated, I guess, is an appropriate word, though not the best one. I'm not
sure, I'm not a human boy, but that's my best guess at the moment. Or maybe you want a
younger sister-figure who isn't actually your sister- or maybe is."

Harry blushed, sputtering, "I- I- isn't that- well, w- wrong?"

Again, Lilith shrugged, resuming the rune once more, "To some people certainly. Succubi as
a race generally don't care, as I've said. I know humans have genetic issues with it, and I'm
also sure most of your societal taboos are tied up in that. But it's a fairly common fascination,
believe it or not, at least as far as fantasies go."

Harry swallowed, looking away, and said nothing until Lilith finished with Ron. The bright
flash of light over his groin when she finished caught Harry's attention, pulling him from his
thoughts, while Lilith stood and turned, facing him in all her child-like glory. "Does it bother
you, Master? Being attracted to younger-looking girls?"

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug she took as a 'definitely maybe yes', then stepped over to
him, taking her usual (for his position) place between his knees, though she took up his
hands, looking up into his face rather than start working on his shaft, "If it bothers you,
people can learn to like other things. You obviously find other forms attractive, too. Would
you prefer I stayed like this?"

Harry shrugged again, this one more a 'definitely not sure' type, and briefly looked down to
watch her watching him before he turned away, looking back toward the book without really
seeing it.

She sighed a little, then said, "Master, for what it's worth, my- admittedly imperfect, since I
am from a literal different world, but still fairly well educated- knowledge of this country's
laws and societal mores indicate that, while people of your age having sex at all is to be
frowned upon, in many ways it's a 'given thing that we don't talk about'. It's tacitly accepted.
Does it bother you to have shagged Hermione, or Daphne, or Marietta, or Cho, or even
Pansy?"

Harry shook his head, "Of course not, it's just... Well, in a way it does. I feel like I've used
them all, manipulated them, and that I'm using you."

"That's probably because you have," Lilith said quietly, "But that doesn't mean you need to
feel guilty over it. Even under the influence of the Fog of Lust- which I only used on Daphne,
for you and me both, so we could form a Contract- a person is still, in most ways, in their
'right mind'. They can think rationally, they just want to have sex a lot. Sure, that's
manipulative, in some ways, but it doesn't force them to. And you've used them for your own
pleasure, certainly. But that doesn't, again, mean you need to feel guilty. Have they not all,
each and every one, benefitted from you?"

Harry swallowed, giving another half-shrug. "I don't know... maybe. Not that one girl in- in
the closet."

Lilith raised one bubblegum eyebrow, "As I know who that person is, I can tell you she did
get her benefit. But my point is, all of them did. Think of how many orgasms you gave Pansy
Parkinson compared to the one you got. Think of how her life has already changed for the
better because of that, and what you said after. Think of how much better off this school and
its students are without Umbridge being an active presence here. Think of how much better
off your own close friends are without her troubling them, and you."

Harry frowned, but nodded. "I- I guess I... hadn't thought of that."

"I know," Lilith smiled easily, rising up to stand on her knees to press a kiss to his lips before
sinking back down, "That's because, like most teenagers, you can only see things from your
point of view. But you're learning that you are not the only person of value- or you have
already learned that, and are learning that things are often connected in ways that we cannot
expect. Or, even having started learning that lesson, you may be on the next, which is that all
our choices, actions, words, or even non-action and non-words- have consequences, not all of
which- even the vast majority of which- cannot be predicted. We simply do the best we can
with what we have, and move forward, hoping for the best."

Harry's frown deepened, though his nod was more certain this time. "Then, if that's true, if...
does that mean that people like Fudge are actually..."
Lilith shrugged, "I don't know who Fudge is, but probably, yes, he's doing what he thinks is
right. Most people- even the 'villains' like your Dark Lord- are doing what they think is 'right
and just'. It's a very rare person who is both evil and can see that they are. The very fact that
you're questioning your own morality and judgments means you are on a good path, Harry.
You are a good person. If you cannot believe me, then believe your loyal friends, like Ron
and Hermione, who have already followed you through great dangers because they, like me,
see who you are, and who you can be."

"I... I don't know what to say," Harry murmured, looking down at her again, this time with
tears falling down his face.

"Then don't," she replied quietly, "you don't have to say anything. I feel what you feel, and I
understand. But, Master, I do have one question I'd like an answer to. Would you rather fuck
me, or just cuddle?"

Harry blinked, then snorted slightly with suppressed laughter. "I think you know the answer
to that: Both!"

With a victorious grin at his altered mood, Lilith, violet eyes locked upward on his, sank her
mouth down and started licking at his head, then as he swelled back to full mast in just
seconds, took him all, spinning her head back and forth around him a few times while fully
impaled, making Harry gasp, before withdrawing.

"My tits, Master? Do you want to try that, too?"

"Hell yeah," Harry whispered.

Lilith, though, did not let him rise. Instead, she only rose a little more on her legs and leaned
in, pushing the again-fatty mounds around him. Then she leaned in, even while starting a
long, slow rise and fall, to kiss him passionately, her tongue dancing with his.

Harry had to pull away after about a minute, though, not only to gasp for air- he had yet to
master breathing through his nose if he was too distracted- but to focus on the pillowy, dry
friction around his shaft as Lilith picked up her pace, then started squeezing together harder,
or alternating which breast was moving up at any given moment. Then, like with Ron before,
she started taking his head into her mouth on her down-stroke, only letting him go with a soft
pop of pressure as she inhaled around his head.

Then she started to hum whenever he was in her mouth. His hips, in response, started jerking
forward a tiny bit, almost spasmodically, though Harry fought to resist, even while his hand
on Lilith's head subconsciously tried to urge her to go lower and lower.

But Lilith, after several seconds, grinned and ceased her breast- and mouth-based
ministrations, standing fluidly and moving over to slip behind and around him onto the bed
before casually opening her knees, bent at an angle upward, and gesturing him forward with
one finger, "Come hither, Master. I desire thee... more intimately."

Harry grinned, spinning around and pouncing at once. Once he was over his Succubus
companion, he grinned, "Who am I to disagree?" Then he plunged inward, enjoying the way
her body rocked with every thrust, her huge tits spinning in hypnotic circles.

When he was spent, several minutes later, she turned and curled into his embrace, continuing
to maintain the same form while he started to drowse. Once they were both settled and his
eyes were closed, Harry whispered in her ear, "I don't exactly think of you like a sister, you
know."

"I know," she giggled quietly, rubbing her pert bum against him, "but if you did, Master, I'd
still be eager to shag every time you were. What would you consider too young, Master?"

He thought about it for several seconds, then said, "Maybe thirteen, if they were more...
mature? Fourteen's probably alright. For now. I think if I were older, myself, I wouldn't want
someone that young. Someone I can relate to, at least. You're... special. I don't think I could
be with a human girl as young as you look."

"That's alright, then," she replied, "Think about it this way. You don't object to shagging Cho,
or Marietta, who are both a year older, correct?"

"No, I didn't mind at all."

"And a few years younger, then, wouldn't be a big deal- as long as they weren't too young to
be unhealthy?"

"Probably not," Harry admitted.

"Well," Lilith said, reaching for the hand around her waist to pull it up and press a kiss to the
inside of his palm, then clutch it to her round chest, "for what it's worth, the 'younger' me is
what I'd call the human equivalent of about thirteen. Developed, mostly, and maybe a bit
unsafe, but probably alright, if they're careful. If you don't go after anyone else that young-
looking, you're probably okay. And not any younger. Of course, as you said, when you are a
bit older, you will want to look for older companions. It's perfectly natural."

"Hm. I guess," Harry agreed, pressing his own lips to the back of her head, using his other
hand, the one at the end of the arm Lilith usually used as a pillow while he slept, to trace her
tiny horns, which were the same size as her other body.

"Would you have sex with anyone... older?" Lilith asked, just as he started to drift.

Predictably, he came back to full wakefulness while he considered. "I... I'm not sure.
Probably? It depends on who they are. Madame Rosmerta, down in Hogsmeade, Ron fancies
her physically quite a bit, but she's a bit too curvy for me, if you know what I mean. Also,
she's Hagrid's age, and that's about... fifty? Pretty, still, but too old for me."

"What about a younger, but still adult, witch? In her mid-twenties, say, and quite pretty?"

"Sure, if they were willing and not just doing it because I'm 'the Famous Harry Potter'," he
scoffed quietly, "Why?"

"Well... one more question before I answer if you don't mind, Master. What about... early
thirties?"
She could feel him stiffen slightly with his whole body, then shrug, "It'd really depend on the
person."

"Okay. As for the why...? There's a few who fancy you around here, that's all."

Harry blinked.

"That- that'd mean..."

"A teacher?"

Harry nodded.

Lilith, though, grinned, shaking her head, "No, she was... visiting, let's say. Part of my project
for Umbridge, she was here gathering evidence for us. Even with Hermione's approval, and it
took some convincing."

"How did you convince Hermione to do anything she was reluctant to?" Harry asked, smiling
to himself at the idea.

"I promised her I'd convince both of you to share her, of course," Lilith giggled, "Not exactly
a hard sell- she just didn't believe me at first that I could do it. I think she still doubted until
today."

"I don't," Harry said, "I think Ron and I are both fine with it, as long as Hermione is."

"And no jealousy with watching me and your friend? Or friends?"

"Not so far," Harry said, "Now, quit talking about it, I need to sleep, minx."

"As you command, Master. Sleep well."

He barely heard the last word, and did not notice when Lilith stood at his bedside, pushing
the stored semen from her vagina, and started scribing more runes on him, too.

Given the expression of pain he wore, even while asleep, while she scribed the second set, the
Succubus thought it best anyway.

Harry sighed, glancing around the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Once again,
Umbridge- or Lilith masquerading as Umbridge- was not present. She had been, he had
heard, for most of the other years' classes, and even for the combined Ravenclaw and
Hufflepuff double class. But, for all of the ones Harry and the other fifth-year Gryffindor and
Slytherin students shared, she was not to be found, leaving only words spelled up onto the
blackboard. Usually, the message was simply the chapter number they were expected to read,
along with, "There will be no need to talk."

The previous evening and night's events- all-but a three-way with Hermione and Ron, with
Lilith looking on and somewhat participating, followed by her 'servicing' both Ron and
himself for a set of her Runes each (and did he ever feel... invigorated)- had gone a long way
to assuaging any worry he might have felt, not least of which because now he knew, or at
least thought he did, what Lilith was planning, and knew roughly where the real Umbridge
was.

But still, things, the general situation in Great Britain and Hogwarts in general, he and his
friends specifically, were making him quite tense.

True, he had an excellent form- several, really- of stress relief somewhat handy, but this was
the last day of classes before the exams, when Lilith's plan was set to activate.

The last good chance it had, in other words, of failing spectacularly.

But she was not there. In fact, he could feel Lilith's presence, much as he had in the Room of
Requirement the previous evening, walking at a brisk waddle- somehow, he knew- down the
corridor outside.

Then the door opened as she arrived, revealing the hideous visage of Dolores Umbridge.
Ron, Hermione, and many others shuddered.

Harry did, too, though it was mostly for show. He knew it was Lilith, at least, and her real
form- her 'base form', pink hair and all, regardless of age- was beautiful to him.

"Greetings, class," 'Umbridge' said, Lilith's mimicry of the witch's sickeningly sweet
affectations now spot-on, "This is the final day of your review before your exams. I expect all
of you will have finished reading, as was scheduled, Wilbert Slinkhard's Defensive Magical
Theory last week, and spent the last week in review, as I instructed via the board?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," the class intoned dully.

Harry, while he did so too, fought to hold back a smirk. He had actually read the book, within
the first week. Had he learned anything useful?

Not particularly. How to find cover, maybe, or flee more effectively.

Only the first he was, apparently, already pretty good at, and the second... it wasn't his style.

Not really, anyway.

"Excellent. You may review chapters you feel you do not fully understand for the remainder
of the period. There will be no need to talk."

Then 'Umbridge' sat down and opened what looked like the morning's edition of the Daily
Prophet. Harry was surprised to see his own face on the cover- how had no one mentioned
that during breakfast? But before he could do too much thinking about it, he felt Lilith's voice
in his mind. Did you like my impression, Master? If you think it hard, I might be able to hear
you, now. Our bond has grown quite a bit since I arrived, and the Runes should help.

Harry frowned slightly in concentration, then 'thought' as hard as he could, It was perfect, if a
bit scary. Why'm I on the front page?
Lilith as Umbridge blinked, turning back to the front page in surprise, quickly scanning the
article. Nothing new, really. Your Minister- is that the Fudge you mentioned last night?
Anyway, he apparently is sponsoring some legislation making it illegal to claim that your
Dark Lord is back, in 'direct opposition to the spurious and just incredibly false claims by the
deranged Harry Potter'. That's all.

For several seconds, he felt like jumping up in fury and stomping down to the dungeons to
take out his anger and frustration at the article on Umbridge herself.

But, even without Lilith's voice echoing in his head to calm down, Harry felt he would have
been able, finally, to do so on his own. He quashed the emotion at first, then thought better of
it, and simply... let it go.

It's not worth it, he realized.

They aren't worth it. Hermione was right. It's simply not worth the work of being angry.
They'll get what's coming to them, though. But that doesn't mean I have to be furious over it.
Don't get mad...

Lilith's voice intruded, finishing the expression, Get even. Exactly, Master.
 Scandalous Scenarios
Chapter Summary

Scandal rocks the Wizarding World of the U.K. as Lilith's plans for a certain Senior
Undersecretary (and a Potions Professor) come to fruition.
But that is far from the least cause of Harry's problems. The O.W.L.s are looming closer
and closer, just a few more days away.
Fortunately, he has a means of dealing with most of those stresses...

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 8: Scandalous Scenarios

Perhaps predictably, Saturday for Harry and Ron, like their open period after Defense the
previous evening, was spent in mad review, late into the night like it had been on Friday. He
and Ron, though, had an appointment.

There was just one problem.

"If you want to go 'relax' for an hour, that's fine," a frenzied-looking Hermione said, glaring
at both of them from the corner table in the common room she'd claimed for herself, which
was actually bowing under the weight of her collected notes and books from the last five
years, "But you will be back by ten o'clock to finish reviewing Potions with me, or I'll- I'll cut
you off until after we get our results. Both of you."

Both boys shared a look, swallowing in apprehension. It wasn't an idle threat, Hermione did
not make those. True, both could (in theory) get 'action' elsewhere, but... this was Hermione.
"Alright, we'll be back by ten thirty," Harry said, speaking over the objection Hermione
started to make, "because it's nearly nine now, we're already late. Um... d'you want...?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Hermione flushed, "I'm..." She swallowed, glanced around, face
turning a bit pink, then whispered, "I'm a bit... a bit sore, actually. I'm fine. Go- enjoy
yourselves. But you are not done studying tonight."

"We are not done studying tonight," Ron agreed with a smile, resuming chivvying Harry out
the portrait hole.

Not that he had to push hard.

"So where are we going," Ron asked as soon as they left the small stream of fifth- and
seventh-years going to and from the library even past curfew (even Snape, they all knew,
wouldn't have stopped students as long as Madame Pince was willing to stay open for them-
usually eleven at night, they had found, for end-of-year exam studies), moving to prowling
through lesser-used hallways of the ancient castle.

"Same classroom," Harry said quietly, reaching into his pocket and unfolding the Marauder's
Map. A few seconds later, he pointed, "Look, there's Cho and Marietta. They're close, but not
there yet."

If Harry had left the map open a little longer, he might have noticed, as they walked, another
name following he and Ron.

But he had folded up his father's heirloom quickly and stowed it back away, so he saw
nothing.

Most certainly not the disillusioned person thirty or so feet back.

When the pair arrived at the disused classroom on the left-hand side of the third-floor
corridor, the closest room on the right to where they had encountered Fluffy the Cerberus in
their first year, and slipped inside without knocking.

The girls were not yet present, so Ron started working on changing the room into a similar
setup as last time, only without the intervening curtain and with the temporary beds he was
able to transfigure less than ten feet apart instead of in opposite corners of the room while
Harry checked the Map once again.

"They're almost here, looks like they got held up by Gibberd, the seventh-year Hufflepuff
Prefect."

"Is that that bloke's name?" Ron asked distractedly, aiming his wand at the ceiling's several
dozen floating candles, lighting ten or so one by one.

"I think he's the blonde one, big guy. Heavy."

"Yeah, that's the one," Ron agreed, turning then to the curtains, which, with a single wave of
his wand, he was able to close completely across the length of the room. "Alright... I think
we're ready. Are the girls-"
The door opened, and Harry smiled when he saw Cho Chang's delicate, Asian features peek
into the room. She sighed with relief, withdrew for a moment, then returned, Marietta
following behind. "Sorry we're late," Cho breathed, glancing between the two younger boys,
"We got held up."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said easily, waving her concern off, "We haven't been here
more than a couple minutes ourselves."

Marietta startled, looking around the transfigured room, "You two did all of this in just a
couple minutes?"

"Actually," Harry said, pointing at Ron, "I've been keeping an eye out for you two. Ron did it
all himself."

"Color me impressed," Marietta grinned, sizing up Ron a bit like a piece of meat. He, though,
only stood tall, grinning confidently himself. "Anyway- how do you two want to do this?
Same pairs as last time?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry smirked, hoping he came off as confidently as he was trying to, "I
thought maybe we'd trade, but... let's be blunt, here. I fully intend on shagging you both
tonight, unless you have some strong objection. You, Ron?"

"Yeah, I think that sounds great," Ron agreed, clearly eying both the tall, curvy English girl
and the slight, petite Asian with hunger.

"Er," said Cho, glancing back and forth, suddenly seeming a little worried once more. "I don't
know..."

Marietta, though, leaned down to whisper something in her friend's ear which made Cho's
porcelain skin flush violet, and she slapped her friend's arm, though even Harry could tell
there was little heat in it.

The brunette stood tall again, "Alright, she's in. So... we're still all clear this is just casual sex,
right? No strings or anything?"

Harry and Ron both nodded, followed quickly by a slightly more hesitant Cho.

"Good. So who's first?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could have a word with Cho, first, so would you mind if you
two started without us out for a minute while we talk?"

"Sure. Let's go, Weasley," Marietta said, before walking over to Ron and starting to undress
quickly.

Harry watched out of the corner of his eye while he walked to Cho and leaned in a little,
speaking quietly, "Look, if you aren't comfortable with Ron, too, that's fine. You don't have to
say yes, no matter what Marietta says or said to you. You don't have to say yes to me, either."
"I know you shagged her- after," Cho whispered back, "And it's not like I think he's
unattractive, it's just... I don't want..."

"To feel like a slag?"

She nodded quietly, trying not to look at her best friend as she pulled down Ron's trousers
and started licking his mostly-full erection to complete mast.

"Well, I can't control the way you feel," Harry said, "but a good friend of mine recently
reminded me of a few things, if you want to hear them. It might help you feel better."

Cho nodded, "What are they?"

"First, as long as you have fun, and there's no hard feelings afterward, it's not that big of a
deal unless you care for religious reasons, in which case, I don't see why we'd have done
what we did earlier."

"R- Right," Cho answered distractedly, failing further still to watch her friend as she started
to suckle on Ron's cock-head.

"Second, think of it as doing Ron a favor. He thinks you're gorgeous, like I do. Most blokes in
Hogwarts think that, and you could have your pick, mostly. But at the same time, I've heard
he's actually pretty big. You might like it yourself."

"Not as big as you," Cho murmured quietly, glancing down at Harry's own bulging crotch,
"He's a little longer, but..."

Harry shrugged, "I don't judge. That's not my point, though. He's... I'm going to be honest,
alright? Ron's... eager. He likes sex. So do I. I think you do, too. I'm not saying you have to
say yes, but I think a part of you does want to shag Ron, just to try it out, see how it's
different. Like... an experiment."

"An experiment?" Cho repeated the words, more to herself than him.

"Sure," Harry seized on the idea, grinning slightly, "To see how he measures up, say,
compared to me. Or... Cedric?"

Cho nodded, "Cedric... you're better than he was. Even that first... he was clumsy. I miss him,
but... I should move on. Right?"

Harry shrugged, "I can't answer that, Cho. I know you cared about him a lot. I also suspect
you genuinely regretted me not having the courage to ask you to the Yule Ball earlier."

"I did. I still do, in some ways. Our one date... it was a disaster. I'm sorry, I ruined it by being
over-emotional."

"No, Cho, you can't be th- no, I worded that wrong," Harry corrected, "I don't think you
should be thinking like that. It happened, it's in the past. I don't regret it, not anymore,
because I literally would not be the person I am, right now, without everything- good or bad-
that has happened to me, or the choices I made because of them. The same goes for you, too.
It was also, as Hermione pointed out to me on the day it happened, on me for being
insensitive about- well, everything. And that, I have to apologize for."

"You... well, okay, I will accept your apology, then. And yes, I'll shag Ron, too. It's an
experiment, right?"

"Sure," Harry smiled, "I want to try something new, though... have you ever shagged standing
up?

"Er..."

It turned out, as Harry leaned in and pressed both his body and his lips to the slight Asian
girl's, that she had not. Even with Lilith and the many positions she'd been educating him in,
the only person Harry had 'done the horizontal tango with vertically' was Hermione. He had
quite enjoyed it then, and the smaller form of Cho, one leg curled around his thigh, the other
pressed up against his chest while he hammered up into her dripping core over and over was,
if anything, better. "I don't get," he growled into her neck between nibbles, "how sex gets
better every single time."

"I don't care," Cho mumbled, "Oh, Merlin, Ha- Harry!"

Harry only grinned, one arm slipping around Cho's neck and the other still cupping her pert
arse while he lifted even more, stepping away from the wall. She squealed, throwing her arms
around his neck. He, though, was barely straining, and kept pushing in, out, while he walked
carefully over to the nearest bed and slowly lowered her down, never once withdrawing his
cock from her.

"How- how did you do that?" she gasped after realizing he hadn't dropped her, but had
continued shagging her relentlessly while walking several paces.

"Magic," he grunted with what he hoped was a cocky smirk, then suddenly pulled out.

Cho whined instinctively, and Harry watched with a wide smile as her hips twitched upward,
seeking to be filled once more while he pulled away. "Nope," he murmured, then leaned
down and started licking at her small breasts for a few seconds each. "I'm taking my time
with you tonight."

Only, Ron's voice from across the room reminded him, "We have to be back at ten-thirty,
remember?"

Harry frowned, debating for a moment whether it was worth it.

Cho and Marietta?

Or Hermione?

He frowned again, then shook his head. It was really no contest. "Fine," he muttered, aiming
with one hand, the other supporting him as he leaned over the smaller girl, "I guess you'll get
your wish- one fast orgasm, coming up."
The moment he bottomed out, he started flexing his dick inside her, repeating it on every in-
stroke so he swelled inside Cho's narrow channel. She was already the tightest he'd been in
aside from Lilith, being even smaller than Daphne, and she groaned ecstatically with every
pulse, until, with a cry, Harry felt his lower abdomen get sprayed with liquid while Cho
started to convulse slightly.

But he wasn't done.

Cho, though, seemed to need a chance to rest. Instead, Harry cast his gaze to Ron and
Marietta.

The ginger was pounding into the older girl doggy-style, both hands on her waist, while she,
in turn, was watching Harry and Cho. "Merlin, Potter, what did you do to her?" Marietta
gasped.

"Shagged her, that's all," he grinned, then looked up toward Ron, who was grinning wildly.
"You mind if I share her now, mate?"

"Nah, go ahead," Ron said, indicating the same with his chin. "You don't mind helping out
Harry, too, right, Marietta?"

The brunette licked her lips, eyeing Harry's throbbing erection, then shook her head.

So he walked over to the edge of the bed, the pair of them still fucking madly while they
moved over to the edge as well.

Marietta moaned in apparent relish as she took him into her mouth, letting Ron's vigorous
pounding do most of the work, while Harry leaned forward a little to grab and massage her
breasts while they swung.

Harry looked up at his best mate, who was watching his dick disappear half-way down the
girl's throat with every thrust. "Fuckin' hot," Ron mouthed.

Harry grinned, nodding, then glanced down toward the shaking arse, "Same. You like tasting
Cho's cunt on me, Marietta?"

"Mmhf-hhmmf!"

Then Harry started to move, too, gently at first, deeper and deeper. Only when Marietta
started gagging- respectably deep, but nowhere near what Hermione could take- did Harry
ease off and slowly withdraw.

With just his head inside the older girl's mouth at the end, she glared up at him through
watery eyes. He grinned cheekily and pushed back in, harder and all at once. Her eyes bulged
and she choked again, but he quickly withdrew completely. "Sorry," he lied, "Force of habit. I
know someone who can take it all, so..."

Predictably, Marietta took that as a personal challenge, again diving back onto his member
while Ron continued to plough her from behind.
By the time he was just getting close- the second Stamina Rune must have done a lot for his
ability to hold off- Ron grunted, "Inside?"

"S- No," Marietta gasped, yanking herself off of Harry, "I'm not on the Potion, remember?"

Ron shook his head, "Harry, swap me?"

Knowing what his friend intended, Harry eagerly pulled out of the girl's mouth again and
clambered up onto the bed while Ron did the opposite on the other side.

Ron pushed into Marietta's waiting, even eager, mouth at once, but Harry took a moment to
contemplate the gaping hole Ron had left him, dripping with juice much as he'd left Cho. Did
he really want to fill the spot?

Of course I do, he told himself, aiming with his left hand while the right reached around
Marietta's leg to caress her clit, then pushing back into her.

Of all the girls he'd been with, Marietta was definitely the easiest to pump into and out of,
being both the largest physically and the most mature. He also strongly suspected, since
Lilith had all-but stated it, that the girl was a bit of a slag.

Not that Harry, apparently with some sort of rune-based protection against diseases, really
cared.

He had some standards still, but Marietta, while not classically beautiful in any way, was fit
enough for his teenaged self.

Watching her gag on Ron's cock like she'd been doing on him while he filled her was, of
course, exciting as well.

Ron, though, only pumped into her throat and mouth a few times before, pulling out until just
his head was left on her tongue, he started wanking with his hand while he pumped several
dollops of cream into her.

Only, Harry was not quite done. Close, yes, but...

"Merlin," Marietta panted after swallowing down Ron's load and licking him a few times to
clean up the drippage, "Aren't you done yet, Potter? I mean... you don't need to stop, but..."

Harry responded by copying Ron and slapping Marietta's right arse cheek once, making her
yelp. "S- Sorry! Geez!"

He only continued pumping away, wondering why she hadn't responded like Hermione or
Lilith did to that sort of thing, though the girl didn't outright complain. Ron, though,
continued to massage his member, which was quickly re-hardening enough for Marietta to
start enjoying it again.

Only, as soon as she'd gotten him back to full mast, Ron smiled and turned away, walking
stark naked over to the bed where Cho lay, partially dressed with her robes both hitched up
and pulled down to rest around her waist, where Harry had left them.
"You want to watch him fuck your friend?" Harry whispered to Marietta.

"Don't care either way," Marietta sighed, lowering her chest and head to the bed and leaving
her lower regions up for Harry to continue thrusting into, "I don't get off... on that."

"What do you get off on?" Harry asked, genuinely puzzled by the answer.

"Cock," she murmured, "That's all. I like guys. Not into kinky stuff."

"Cock," Harry replied quietly, watching Ron more than Marietta as his friend started tracing
his fingertips across the now semi-conscious Cho's breasts and stomach, "You like getting
fucked, is that it? Bit of a slag, are you?"

"What's it to you, Potter?" she looked back and up at him idly without shifting more than her
head, sighing in quiet pleasure while he pumped away, "Sex is good. Better sex is better.
Experience makes better sex."

"Not arguing with that," he answered, "just curious. Not like I've got room to complain."

She snorted, "A fifth-year? How many girls have you been with? I'm guessing two: me and
Cho. That bit about a girl taking it all? Don't get me wrong, you're pretty big, Potter- bigger
than I remember, even- but that'd choke someone."

In response, Harry started flexing himself whenever he bottomed out inside Marietta, like
he'd done to Cho.

She, too, started to gasp, though after several seconds of that, she only smiled and closed her
eyes, starting to worm and shake her hips in time with his own motion, "Nice trick, but I have
some of my own. I already said you were big- maybe the biggest I've had- but I bet I've been
with more guys in the last three years than you will have girls in the next five."

Harry's left eyebrow lowered. "Somehow, I doubt that. But like I said, I'm not judging. I don't
care if you sleep around. It's not like we're in a relationship. Casual sex, like you said."

"Right," she murmured, "Now, if you don't mind, I'm getting pretty close. Fuck me, Potter."

Only too eager, Harry started hammering home once more, bottoming out two or more times
every second while Marietta's hands fisted into the transfigured blankets to keep her from
sliding off the edge of the bed.

Meanwhile, Ron had succeeded in not just waking Cho, but convincing her to allow him to
slip two fingers into the girls' tight depths while she writhed under his fingers. Harry watched
his friend's technique, hoping for a pointer or two, until, under Ron's manipulations, Cho's
slender waist and hips lifted completely from the bed as she shuddered into a quiet orgasm.

Only then did he come up closer to her head and point at his hard-on.

Cho hesitated, glancing at Marietta and Harry, before appearing to make up her mind.
Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment, but she seemed to steel herself before giving Ron
a tentative lick, then taking the first two or so inches into her mouth.

It was, Harry remembered, all she'd been able to take of him, too.

Ron still groaned, allowing his eyes to close, while she worked him for several seconds with
her lips and tongue.

Then he pulled away, and apparently unconsciously, Cho's mouth followed him for three
inches before she caught herself. Then, blushing as he knee-walked between her legs, she
opened them shyly.

Ron, like with Marietta, showed no hesitation, immediately pushing down and in.

Cho winced as he bottomed out, but slipped both legs and arms around him while his mate
began rutting at her furiously.

"Bit of- an animal, y- your friend," Marietta grunted through his own thrusts.

Harry nodded, "Maybe," but didn't slow. In fact, watching Ron shag the object of his oldest
crush made Harry even more excited, and quickly pulled his own orgasm closer.

"Do you want me inside?" he whispered, leaning down over her to grope at her breasts again.

Marietta contemplated for a moment, then said, "Not this time, Potter. Maybe next. I do like
the taste, though."

Harry nodded, leaning back up, then slowly pulled out with a soft squelch, then watched
Marietta's twat quiver and shake for a few seconds before he slipped not just one, but three
fingers into her, curling them toward the back of her clit, where Lilith had described the best,
strongest, most sensitive nerve cluster on a woman's body was.

Marietta gasped, the upper half of her body becoming stock still while he finger-fucked her.
In just ten seconds, she shrieked, then fell bonelessly to the bed, his hand caught inside her
still.

She was still dazed when Harry rolled her over and, like Ron had with Lilith the previous
evening, grabbed her D-cups and started thrusting between them.

Her own breasts were not nearly as firm as the Succubus', despite being smaller, but the
sensation and sheer eroticism of the moment had Harry grunting within just a few more
seconds.

Across the room, Ron asked Cho something. She replied, but Harry didn't care.

Instead, he only relished the sight and feeling as his own dick emptied itself between Marietta
Edgecombe's breasts and onto her chin, a single small dollop lodging itself higher, at the edge
of the girl's curly, reddish-brown hair.
"Good night, Potter," Marietta said after several seconds, "Fine, I'll admit it, you're the best
shag I've had. You happy? Just don't stop doing that."

"I can't make promises," he grinned, rising from his position astride the sixth-year, "but I'll
see what I can do." Then he stepped over to Ron and Cho, placing one hand to lightly knead
one of her breasts while Ron, panting and sweating, continued hammering her waist down
into the bed with every stroke.

Then he, too, finished, pulling himself out with a mighty heave and finishing the job with his
hand, spraying all over the outside of Cho's hair-covered groin.

"S- Sorry about the mess," he said with a lopsided smile.

Cho only grinned weakly, panting herself, "It's... fine. F- Fine..."

"Sorry, we really do need to get back," a disappointed Harry said, reluctantly pulling his hand
from Cho's tit, "hopefully we can meet up for one more before term ends, yeah? Or more?"

"Sure," Marietta, more recovered than Cho despite the double-teaming and constant effort on
her part, said as she stepped up, half-dressed and holding the rest of her robes, to the others,
"And next year, too. As long as you don't get locked up, eh, Potter?"

The joke, weak as it was, did not go over well with the two boys, who made a quick exit.

Harry had expected to see Lilith in his bed when he led Ron, half-crawling, up to the dorm at
nearly two in the morning after Hermione, herself bleary-eyed, had finally permitted them to
rest. What he had not expected was for her to be... accompanied.

But the image of the faceless female kissing his companion faded the moment the door
opened, and, stark naked and shameless, the half-visible Succubus winked at him, then
beckoned with one finger while simultaneously opening her legs.

Ron did not seem to see her, though he shot the bed a quick glance as it shifted beneath her
weight, muttered a quiet, "Night, Lilith, night, Harry," and slid into bed in his boxers before
pulling the curtains closed.

Were he not so mentally tired, Harry might have wondered how the very sight of the petite
form she had resumed could have stirred his shaft to full wakefulness at a glance, but all he
really knew was that the illusory, feminine form and Lilith snogging, naked, on his bed as he
entered was extremely arousing. The invitation, if anything, added to it.

"'M really tired," he muttered, stripping down to his boxers and slipping, without guidance,
inside her before even climbing onto the bed. Instead, he fell over her, kissing the heart-
shaped face gently as he started to thrust slowly, his weight born on the elbows on either side
of the creature's head.

"Mm, so you are," Lilith whispered into his mouth, "But you want me anyway, Master. Do
you want me to do the work tonight?"
He gave a half-hearted shrug, but still pulled out of her dripping channel before standing and
shooting her a nod, glad that it was so late and the other occupants of the dorm all had their
curtains closed, since his member was sticking, glistening with not just Lilith's fluids, several
inches out of his boxers.

He climbed up behind her, using a gesture for her to remain still, stretched out his legs with
her between them, then whispered, "Roll over, my pet."

With a saucy smile, she did just that, before using her long, sinuous tongue to clean his
scrotum, the inside of his thighs, and then work its way up his shaft. "You taste," she said
between licks, "like... the Asian, and... her friend... and me... and you. It's de.... licious."

"Glad you like it," Harry replied quietly, setting a hand on her head to push her lips toward
his tip. She opened her mouth eagerly, though she did not sink fully down, and instead began
giving him what he had started to understand was a more typical blow-job, sucking on the tip
and moving the shaft with one or both hands, though she eagerly sucked and lapped at
whatever juices remained from the earlier sessions with Cho and Marietta.

She hummed when a dollop of his own cream was pulled from where it had stopped at the
base of his penis, then sank her mouth down to deep-throat him just once before popping off
when he groaned, then asked a question, "So... the illusion. Purposeful timing?"

She shrugged guilelessly, grinning up at him with violet eyes shining, "Not really, I was just
waiting impatiently for you to feed me, Master. Thought I'd help set the mood."

"And the choice of bodies?"

"A year down, in your House, Master."

"Red hair... either Ginny, or... what was her name?"

Lilith shrugged again, not giving another hint.

"Still, the freckles... Ginny. Ron's sister. Right?"

She smiled around his cock, deep-throating him once more, briefly, as a reward.

"Mm... you setting her up, too?"

Again, she grinned, going all the way down.

"I won't say no," Harry whispered, "she's really fit, but I don't... want to screw things up with
Ron's family. Or Ron. And she's a... well, I'm worried about her motivations. With me, I
mean."

Lilith nodded, pulled off of him though she continued to stroke, "I won't expect you to,
Master. She's being... saved. Cultivated. For later, but not too much longer. As for her
motivations... who cares? She's sexy, and you can use her. More than that, once she's yours, it
won't matter anyway, she'll do anything to keep you, including let you own her in every way
that matters."
Harry thought about that for a few seconds, decided he was too tired to figure out if he even
wanted that, and turned his mind to an easier question. "And... your taste leans to women,
too?"

"I'm a Succubus, Master. I lean all ways. If humans have done it, so have we, and I like it. If
they consider it debauched- besides the maturity thing we've already discussed- I probably
do, too, and like it even more."

"Good to know," Harry said, already imagining Hermione blowing him just like Lilith was,
but with the Succubus between the girl's legs, making Hermione pant, while herself being
filled by Ron.

He needs to have her soon, I think, Harry thought.

The combined images and Lilith's amazing skills brought him to the brink.

This time, though, he resisted the urge to force her down, nor did he tell her he was getting
close.

She seemed to know anyway, though, and, with a triumphant smirk, opened her mouth wide
so he could see himself fill it with what looked like an entirely unrealistic amount of semen
considering he'd already ejaculated twice that evening.

But, as usual, watching her swallow it down made him seriously reconsider catching up on
sleep... even if it was now three in the morning.

Fortunately, Sunday was a day that Hermione considered important for an entirely different
reason: rest.

"A bit of light study is all I want either of you to do today," Hermione informed 'her boys' at
breakfast, herself with deep shadows under her eyes, "and that means no... fraternizing,
either. I can't believe we've all been so reckless lately. We're just asking for trouble, as if we
don't have enough."

"C'mon, Hermione," Ron immediately cajoled quietly, "Fraternizing, as you put it, isn't a bad
thing."

"Of course it's not," Hermione said with a hiss and a low blush, leaning in across the table to
whisper more directly to both of them, "but with Umbridge about and all the Decrees? What
about the no hand-holding? The Inquisitorial Squad, for all that they've backed off a bit
lately? It's risky. This- the exams- are their last chance this year. You know Malfoy and
Umbridge will be looking for an excuse to get rid of any of us, or all of us."

"Maybe," Harry conceded, shooting a quick glance across the hall to the Slytherin table. He
spotted Pansy Parkinson first, eating quietly- which meant not gossiping madly, for once-
with Millicent Bulstrode and... Harry thought they must be the 'Bridget and Rachel' Daphne
had mentioned before, but he couldn't name them further, or tell which witch was which.
Daphne herself, sitting with the fair-skinned, pretty girl with long, wavy black hair he thought
must have been her best friend nearby, seemed a little sullen, but mostly just tired. Clearly,
she, too, had been overstressed by studying.

Draco Malfoy, however, was not at the table as far as Harry could see.

Harry blinked, then thought, as hard as he could, "Lilith, you there?"

"Not so loud, Master. I'm here, but a little busy."

"Malfoy... you seen him?"

"Getting things set up for the big reveal, Master. I wouldn't worry about his whereabouts."

Harry shrugged, putting it from his mind. If Lilith wasn't worried, then why should he be?

"Er, Hermione, can I borrow a scrap of parchment?"

She blinked, looking up from her toast, then reached into her ever-present bag to pull some
out and a quill. "No studying," she reminded him sternly, "We all need to rest."

"I know," Harry said with a roll of his eyes and a grin, "I'm just sending a quick note."

But he did not get a chance to even begin before the doors to the Great Hall were thrown
open with a crash by no fewer than six red-robed Aurors, one of which was Tonks, marching
in a double column of three, then a single stern-faced woman wearing a monocle and bone-
white robes that Harry recognized at once, "She was at my hearing this summer- that's Susan
Bones' aunt, the director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

The great hall immediately erupted into whispers, with nearly every student of any age
explaining more or less the same things to their neighbors that Harry had to Ron and
Hermione. Within five minutes of the gruff witch whispering to Professor McGonagall up at
the half-filled staff table, she and Hagrid, apparently at McGonagall's request, were following
Madame Bones and the Aurors out of the Hall once more.

Or at least, the others were following McGonagall, who was leading the way, looking as
serious and suddenly worried as she had ever been in Harry's presence.

No sooner had the doors slammed shut than tiny Professor Flitwick, from the Staff Table,
aimed his wand at the oaken slabs, locking them quite securely with several spells. He then
aimed his wand at his throat, and with a suddenly booming though still high-pitched voice,
announced, "Attention, Students! Attention, please! It seems that the esteemed Madame
Bones of the D.M.L.E. and several Aurors have been alerted to a crime or series of crimes
taking place in the Castle this year. They are here to arrest the perpetrators, and will be given
the Castle's full cooperation. Furthermore, I would entreat you not to indulge in fruitless
speculation. Doubtless, when the Aurors' investigation is complete, we will be able to make a
formal announcement. In other words, you will know shortly after we do. Please, return to
your meals, and then your preparations for end-of-year exams."
Of course, no matter how popular Flitwick was as a teacher- and even the most bigoted
Slytherin tended to like his classes due mostly to the part-Goblin's seemingly infinite good
cheer- no force on Earth, Harry had learned early on, could stop the Hogwarts Rumor Mill.

Thus, students were discussing nothing but the pending arrest of everyone from Harry
himself, to Colin Creevey (under suspicion of taking nude photographs of several people), to
Snape (for being a git), to Umbridge (for being worse than Snape and far less flattering
things), or even Voldemort himself being in the Castle.

It was only around lunchtime, as the rumors got progressively worse, that Harry realized the
dreams he had been having for months were not occurring any more.

"The dreams," he said quietly as he, Ron, Hermione, and he suspected an invisible Lilith,
whose hand occasionally brushed against his, walked slowly around the Lake, just as many
other students were doing in a (probably vain) attempt to calm their nerves.

"What about them?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowing, "You haven't still been having them?"

Harry shook his head, "No, that's... that's it, though. I haven't been practicing my Occlumency
at all, but they haven't... I haven't had one. Not since... I mean, I've even had less regular
nightmares."

The others were silent for several minutes, the only sound being the quiet lapping of the lake
on the rocky shore, the light, cool spring breeze in the budding forest, and the crunch of their
feet against the still-frosty gravel or grasses around the lake. "Is it... could it be Lilith,
somehow?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged, "I don't really know how, but maybe?"

"It is," the Succubus said, phasing in just enough to be seen, but looking, as she had
whenever she had to appear in public so far, as a non-descript Gryffindor student, "At least, I
think so."

Harry, who alone had known she was there, was highly amused by his friend's startlement,
with Ron even going so far as to pull his wand, though he stowed it rapidly with a blush
when he realized the person showing up from nowhere and taking Harry's hand in a
comfortable grip could only be her.

"Care to explain?" Hermione said, visibly forcing her own scowl down. She did not like to be
startled.

Lilith shrugged, "There's not much to it, really. The connection that Master and your Dark
Lord seem to share is still there, I'm just a stronger, more local connection. Now that the
Contract is active, anyway. I'm sure Master could still have the dreams you've discussed, if he
wanted, but why listen to what the enemy wants you to see? It's not going to be true,
anyway."

Harry, alone, stopped walking. "Wait... he- Voldemort- wants me to dream of endless
corridors? But why?"
She shrugged again, tugging him on to catch up with Ron and Hermione, who had stopped
two and three paces ahead, "I wouldn't know, Master. I clearly recognize the place, just like
you do, but I can't place it any more than you because the only images I have are from your
and his memories. I just get snippets. Obviously, he wants something, there."

"We know this already," Ron grumbled lightly, glancing around to make sure there were no
eavesdroppers around, "They're guarding the place my Dad was attacked at Christmas. The-
the weapon."

"I'm not sure it is a weapon, exactly," Hermione interjected, "but clearly something he-
Voldemort- wants desperately. Or at least, wants Harry to get. A trap, maybe."

"It's almost certainly a trap," Lilith said, "But that doesn't mean, if we have the opportunity,
we shouldn't trip it. We just need to make sure we aren't the ones being trapped."

"In other words," Hermione said, though Harry finished, "We need allies."

"Exactly. Your study group up to the task, Master?"

Harry snorted, "Against Voldemort? No. No one is, not even all of us together. I've dueled
him, remember? It's... unreal, how fast he is. He'd kill us all in a direct fight, even probably
all at once."

"So more allies, then," Ron concluded, "Like... the Order?"

"An idea," Hermione acknowledged, "But how to convince them?"

Harry, though, grinned at the worried look on her and Ron's faces, "Bait. That's how. If I go...
what do you think they'll do?"

"Rescue you, of course," Hermione said with a grimace, "But it puts you in awful danger,
Harry. I don't like it."

He only shrugged, "Then we tell them I'm going, time it so they get there immediately after I
do. He'll want to gloat. He always does. Then, when he's just getting started, you, the D.A.,
and the Order spring the trap on him."

"Still don't like it, Mate," Ron shook his head, "But I have to admit it might work. How to get
that message across, though? The twins might be up for it..."

The four continued to discuss the rough outline of their plan for another twenty minutes as
the rounded the lake, then, with Lilith casually fading from view before entering the castle
proper once more, headed up to the Gryffindor Tower for what Hermione called 'light
review', but which turned out to be a three-hour cram session before dinner.

A dinner that was interrupted by, apparently, a nation-wide free issue of the Evening Prophet.

The headlines, if nothing else, explained exactly why.

HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR UNDER ARREST!

SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY OF THE MINISTER OF MAGIC SCANDAL!

Hermione, Ron, and Harry coughed simultaneously, each jockeying for more space at the
table to open their own copy of the Prophet.

Ron's longer arms ended up pushing a second-year further down the table, while Hermione's
commanding presence alone kept the nearby Parvati and Lavender from horning in on her
'reading space', while Harry just left his own edition rolled up and leaned in toward Ron,
reading over his arm.

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

(Warning for Younger Readers: This article may contain sensitive or disturbing material not
suitable for all eyes. Or anyone, really. We warned you. -- Daily Prophet Editorial
Department)

Tipped off by an anonymous source within the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a
force of seven Aurors including the esteemed head of the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement led a raid into our nation's most-beloved institution of learning this morning,
during the period when the majority of students were eating their morning repast.

Many of our readers will remember that the school's former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore,
had been relieved of his post and evaded arrest under suspicion of fomenting rebellion and
conspiracy to commit sedition. As such, the Aurors sought to meet with the next highest
authority in the school.

That would not be, in case it wasn't made clear by the headline, dear readers, the acting
Headmistress, Hogwarts' High Inquisitor and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of
Magic, Dolores Jane Umbridge.

Instead, Madame Bones (D.M.L.E. head) and the Auror Squad reportedly entered the castle
through the main gates and door, entered the Great Hall where several staff and the majority
of the students were in the midst of their breakfast. There, they were joined by the stern-faced
Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall (Transfiguration Professor) and the Half-Giant
Professor of Care of Magical Creatures this publication has reported on before, Rubeus
Hagrid.

The following group then made their way through the school, according to the official report,
directly to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where, under Educational Decree
#22, the Acting Headmistress had been conducting the business of both her classes and the
day-to-day running of the school.

What they found there made the original tip's information, according to one of the attending
Aurors, who spoke on condition of anonymity, look like a charge of jaywalking next to
robbing Gringott's Bank.

"It literally made me sick to see," the Auror said, "All over my new shoes and just-cleaned
robes. And my partner's, poor chap." This reporter can attest to that, as stains and residue
were still present when the Auror gave his statement to the Daily Prophet. He went on,
however.

"Anyway, we was just there on suspicion of larceny, that's all, a report that the Senior
Undersecretary had stolen something of value from the Ministry, or taken it without
permission, or sommat like that. Madame Bones wasn't too clear on the details, but she
wanted us to come personally, all six of us by name. Not normal procedure, that, but when the
boss says jump... Anyway, we get there, and things are by-the-book, you know? We check in
with the Deputy Headmistress, an' we all remember Professor McGonagall, you know? Then
she leads us straight to the DADA classroom, same one most all of us learnt in, and the
door's locked. So we get in position, and break in, and... that's when I was sick."

At this point in his tale to me, dear readers, the poor Auror was sick again, this time on my
robes. After I cleaned myself and my desk off, the Auror, who had taken a shot of good brandy
to steady his nerves, continued on.

"There was Umbridge, all right. Her and... and what's-his-name, the Potions Professor.
They... they wasn't exactly... fornicating, but it weren't no sight I'd ever want to see again, not
with 'er great rolls and stench on top, all wrigglin' and shite like that-"

Again, the Auror had to take a moment, and another shot of my brandy. Thankfully, this one
he kept down.

"An'- Snip, I think his name was, or sommat like tha', he's got his mouth on... well, you get the
idea. A compromisin' position, that's sure. Mind, it's not illegal, precisely, what they was
doin'... 'leastways, not to each other. But that poor cat... Donno how it'd ever be right again.
Professor McGonogall asked us to put the poor thing down, you know, for... for mercy."

Here, dear readers, I must beg your indulgence, despite the disclaimer I'm told will be tacked
on to the top of this article. Rest assured, I won't be adding anything... graphic. But I will say
this: The same Auror had a picture, one which he showed me.

I've seen a lot in my years writing for the Prophet and other publications, loyal readers, but I
almost lost my own lunch seeing that poor, mutilated feline corpse. It wasn't flensed, or
flayed, or even shaved. But no animal should have to suffer as that poor thing must have
done.

I have been informed, through official channels, the following about the case, most of the
statements from no less reliable a source than Madame Bones of the D.M.L.E. herself:

"Of course not, Skeeter, you know we can't and won't comment about ongoing investigations
or cases."

"Yes, there was a cat involved, and yes, it was put down for its own peace. Obliviations and
drastic healing would not have worked on that poor animal."

"Yes, we made two arrests at the school. No, I won't give you their names."

"No, we have no evidence of a student being involved at this time."

"Yes, there is still an active crime scene and investigation at the school."

"No, the investigation should in no way interfere with end-of-year examinations, O.W.L.s, or
N.E.W.T.s, aside from the Deputy Headmistress relocating the Defense Classroom for the last
week of classes and testing for those years not taking place in standardized testing."

Many of my readers will, no doubt, recognize that, for once, the D.M.L.E. was surprisingly
forthcoming with information, even aside from my anonymous source. Getting even one
statement from the notoriously tight-lipped Head of the Department is a feat, as my long-time
readers will surely remember. Getting four out of a total of six official statements is
astounding, and no doubt a testament to just how shocking this news is.

But I do not want to dwell on the crimes committed against a cat by two of Hogwarts'
teachers.

Instead, I want to get at the heart of the matter.

Why has our Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, allowed such depraved individuals that
would do such a thing to an innocent animal to walk free?

Why, indeed, would our Minister allow such individuals not only to walk free, but to teach our
beloved, too-impressionable children?

Why, furthermore, was such a depraved soul as Madame Umbridge allowed to work at the
Ministry for Magic at all?

And why, dear readers, was Dolores Jane Umbridge, apparently the instigator of this entire
scandal, allowed to work so closely, and for so long, with the Minister himself?

If this is the quality of your Senior Undersecretary, Minister Fudge, I must ask you on behalf
of all the Magical World:

What scandals are you hiding?

Harry looked up to see Hermione and Ron both staring at him, dumbstruck.

"Hole-eeey... sheeeeet..." Ron whispered.

"I... what..." Harry heard himself say, as if from a vast distance.

"Lilith," Hermione whispered softly, barely audible over the rustling of paper, and the
occasional sob- or sound of vomit hitting the flagstone floor- from the other students. "It had
to be."

Harry blinked. Without conscious thought, he stood up, mixing in with the slowly-gathering
crowd of students who were leaving the Great Hall.

Wordlessly, his best friends joined him, falling in step on either side, both looking as ashen-
faced as he felt.
Once they reached the common room, raucous cheering- not directed at them- greeted them.
Apparently, even the early eaters had gotten their Prophets as well.

Harry led the others, unnoticed and even unintentionally, up to the boys' dorm, and opened
the door.

There, sitting on his bed wearing an entirely self-satisfied expression and physically
appearing as if she were a nondescript, brown-haired fifth year student wearing Gryffindor
colors, was Lilith.

"I... you..." Harry began, then halted. What could he say?

Could he really justify yelling at the Succubus for ruining two lives?

Not to mention that poor cat!

Who knew how many lives Umbridge had ruined, including Remus', and the good attempt
she'd started to make on Harry's own?

Don't forget the Dementors in Little Whinging, the soft, cruel part of his mind reminded the
rest of him.

Harry frowned, nodded, then swallowed. "Is... was that the plan?"

Lilith's smug smile widened into one of quiet joy, "It was, Master. I honestly hadn't intended
to involve Snape quite so... firmly, but he became rather agitated when I wouldn't let him...
do what he wanted. So he escalated himself."

"And... do I want to know exactly what happened?" Hermione asked, sinking down to sit
opposite Lilith on Ron's bed, where he quickly joined her.

The Succubus shrugged, "I can give you the gruesome details if you want."

"Er, no," Harry answered for them, then started pacing, his mind racing like his Firebolt.
"Er... so... I guess Umbridge is out. What's to stop her- or the Minister, anyway- from sending
someone worse?"

"Nothing, I suppose," Lilith shrugged again, leaning back onto her elbows, stretching the
robes at her chest a little, "but that article the reporter- well, I- wrote. I don't think your
Minister will have a long term remaining in office after that. Not if politics in this world is
still how our classes describe them."

"They probably are," Hermione conceded, "they don't seem to have fundamentally changed
in quite a while. But... why the cat?"

Lilith frowned, "An innocent bystander that got caught up, unfortunately."

"A- A bystander?" Hermione gasped.

The demoness nodded, "Yes. He had been... Umbridge's. She loved that poor thing, it was all
she really loved from what I could see, aside from power, but... once Snape saw what she was
doing to it, he... took over. Sort of. And then she... took him over."

"When you say..." Ron gulped, turning green.

Lilith smirked, this time, "As I told Master the other day, I'd been keeping both of them-
using one of my abilities- in a state of extreme hyper-arousal, but without any sort of release,
for several days. Longer, in her case, nearly two weeks. I was also feeding them illusory
images to direct their thinking along certain pathways."

"Brainwashing?"

Lilith frowned at Hermione's word for it, but nodded slowly, "I suppose that's one way to
describe it, but I don't think it fits all that well."

"You use- what, some sort of lust-creating effect, like a love potion or something, feed them
images to make things worse, to direct that lust at a specific target, and you don't think
brainwashing is the proper term?"

Lilith shook her head, sitting back up, "No, I don't. I'm not washing people's brains. It was
specific, targeted psychological reconditioning, and temporary, at best. If I'd had a year, then
it might have been brainwashing."

"I- I don't see the difference," Hermione scowled.

Harry watched as the two continued to argue for several minutes, before he huffed, "It's too
late now, Hermione, and as much as I might not agree with the methods Lilith used, we did
kind of want this to happen. Right?"

"Of course we did," Ron answered for her, "It's just... I mean, you guys all know I'm no fan of
Snape or Umbridge, but this... they're going to be vilified, even if they win their trials."

Lilith gave a sad little smile, then said, "Look, Hermione, I'm going to explain something I
already tried to make clear to Master. I'm not human. I don't think like you do- though we
don't think too differently from what I can see- and I don't have the same social or ethical or
moral hang-ups about a lot of things, and not just sexual matters, either. Let me give you a
hypothetical, alright? Something to help you wrap your brain around the situation."

"Fine," Hermione groused, lunging up from Ron's bed to start pacing alongside Harry.

He, wisely, moved to join Lilith on the edge of his own bed, more to stay out of the reach of
Hermione's furious stride than anything else.

"A person is holding a wand at you, and they are saying 'Avada Ke-' at you. You have a gun,
or a wand of your own, and know a spell that can kill them first. What do you do?"

"I..." Hermione hesitated, frowning, "I'd like to think I would end them first."

"And if it was one of your friends being threatened?"

Hermione swallowed, but this time her response was immediate and firm, "I would definitely
do my best to kill the other person first."

Lilith nodded, "An existential threat poses a clear and present danger. It removes gray areas,
makes things, I'm told, pretty damned clear. If it's them or you, you pick you, of course. Most
people do."

Hermione nodded.

"This whole situation with Umbridge," Lilith continued explaining, locking eyes with the
other girl, who had stopped pacing near Neville's bed by the window, "is an existential crisis
for you three, and less so for the rest of your world, if what Master has said about your Dark
Lord is even half-true. He will kill you if you give him the chance."

"I know that," Hermione frowned, resuming the pacing, "But as much as I loathe that cow of
a woman, Umbridge is not V- Voldemort, and as Harry's godfather reminded us at the start of
the school year, the world isn't split between good people and Death Eaters."

"No, it's not," Lilith replied after a moment, "But you don't know what I saw in her mind,
Hermione. That woman wasn't just sick, she was- is- demented. She enjoys torture. She likes
power, above all, and will do anything- anything- to get more of it. And she was running this
school- a school- like a concentration camp. You're familiar enough with your world's history
to know a thing or two about those, yes? What do you think would happen when your Dark
Lord comes back into the light, makes himself known, even partially?"

Harry shook his head, answering for her, "She'd flock to him. All the Death Eaters joined him
for one of three things. Fear, a chance at wealth by serving, or a chance at power by serving.
All the strongest ones did it for the last reason."

Lilith nodded, "That's human psychology. To be honest, it's something we- my people- have
in common with yours in many ways. The biggest way we differ, there, is that we don't really
ever die of old age, and we're very hard to kill, so fear is less of an issue."

"Well, alright," Hermione conceded, "But what about Snape? I know he's a horrid teacher,
but..."

"But," Ron said, "We- at least, Harry and I- don't trust him. I know Dumbledore does, but we
still don't know why, and I, for one..."

"Snape... was someone you could probably trust," Lilith said quietly, "at least to keep you
alive. He remembers standing between you and a werewolf a couple years ago. That's the sort
of person he really is, deep down. But he was also hindering you, personally, Master. He had
to go, and I don't regret that he has."

Harry watched her face as she spoke, but the Succubus gave nothing away in her expression
except resolve and satisfaction.

"Fine," he said, looking away, "It's done, anyway. The Wizengamot can figure out what to do
with them now. They might even get a fair trial, sort of."
Ron and Hermione snorted together, "Doubtful," the ginger muttered. "A- Anyway, it's... I
hate to say this, given everything, but I'm knackered, and we have O.W.L.s tomorrow."

"Right," Hermione muttered, shaking her head, "And we need to sleep, you're absolutely
right, Ron. G- Good night, Ron, Harry. Lilith."

"Good night, Hermione," Ron said with a soft smile, a moment before Harry.

Lilith only waved as the brunette headed out the door.

"Good night, Harry, Lilith," Ron gave each a nod, then, as he changed for bed, finished,
"Don't forget the silencing charms. The others should be up soon."

"I think I'm actually turning in, too," Harry said through a yawn, forcing himself to ignore
Lilith's pout.

But as she crawled into the sheets next to him, Harry had to wonder what it was Lilith had
shown Snape to direct his frenzy.

"You should probably try and do something nice for Hermione in the next few days," he
murmured into Lilith's once again pink hair as he started to slip into unconsciousness.

"I suppose, Master," she said, "Now, sleep. I can feel how tired..."

He did not hear the rest.

 Pre-Exam Butterflies

A note (which apparently bears repeating): I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult
ratings are for a reason. My stories feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost
always graphic), and worse. The villains in my stories are typically very villainous. The
heroes are not always heroic- even if most of the time they are. Readers should expect a
blanket trigger warning on everything I write. Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex,
domination, violence, gore, and character death- including major characters- exist in many of
them. I do not condone such activities in real life, but unfortunately they are real in our
world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction fairly without including them.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 9: Pre-Exam Butterflies

While Harry was unsurprised to see Hermione looking a bit stressed the next morning at
breakfast, a quick glance around showed him that he, Ron, and Hermione were among the
very least harassed or worried-looking out of the entire fifth- and seventh-year student
bodies.

A more thorough scan revealed that Cho and Marietta, at least, were more relaxed as far as
the sixth years went, though of course, they did not have O.W.L.s to worry about, only end of
year examinations. Tests which, from all that Harry had heard, were considerably easier than
the previous year's standardized testing, and far too easy compared to the final year's.

In fact, aside from him, Ron, and Hermione, the only Gryffindor fifth-year Harry could
describe as even remotely relaxed was, to his surprise, Neville.

Of course, the boy was, like Hermione and Ron, studying frantically at the breakfast table,
trying to fit in some last-minute review for the Charms Theory written exam, which would
begin, according to the clock-face above the entrance doors, in just about fifteen minutes.

What could Harry attribute this relaxed- well, more relaxed- feeling to, compared to that of
his peers? He could attribute it to one thing, and one thing only.
You look a little tense, Master. You'll do fine, I think. Relax. Would you like a blow-job to
help?

Harry blinked, coughing. Fortunately, he had not just taken a sip of pumpkin juice, though he
wouldn't have put it past the Succubus to time her input deliberately for that effect. Er- n- no,
not right now, thanks. Maybe if there's time between the Theory and Practical, after lunch?

He had to repeat the thought again, a little more briefly but with more intent behind it, before
Lilith seemed to hear. When she did, all he heard in his mind was, Your choice, Master. You
have time for a quicky though, if you can snag a girl...

Harry swallowed, trying hard to fight down the growing bulge in his trousers. Robes or not,
that would be uncomfortably revealing if he stood up just then.

He had just gotten it back down when the daily owl deliveries resumed.

Again, there was an article in the Prophet that Hermione received, but it was merely a repeat
of the special edition from the previous night, with no new information.

Still, thinking about Snape and Umbridge- and that poor, poor cat- did the job, letting Harry
fully quell his libido before Professor McGonagall stood and, tapping her goblet for silence
with a silver spoon, called, "Students! Students, if I may have your attention! The staff would
like for you, please, to exit the Great Hall at this time. Those in the first through fourth, and
sixth, years, please return to your regularly scheduled classes. Those in the seventh year may
proceed, in an orderly fashion, to the second floor corridor on the right hand side, where staff
will give them individual instruction as to where their tests are to begin. Fifth year students
will return their bags or other school belongings, including ink and quills, to their dormitories
and return to the entry hall until you are called in for your Theory of Charms examination.
Thank you."

It was, to the best that Harry could recall, almost exactly the same information that
Dumbledore had given the fifth- and seventh-year students in the previous four years that
he'd witnessed. Doubtless, the speech had been so well-rehearsed over both his and
McGonagall's tenure, that she had little reason to review the information before handing it
out.

Still, with a great grinding of benches and shuffling of feet, he joined the vast throng heading
for the doors, his heart pounding in his chest.

He should have dedicated more time to studying.

Not shagging.

Suddenly, Harry felt woefully unprepared for what were supposed to be extremely
challenging tests.

But, ten minutes later as he sat, still breathless from dashing up to the dorm room and back
with Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville, he had little time to dwell on it.
No sooner had they, the last Gryffindors to arrive (and almost the last students, only a rather
green-looking Draco Malfoy and a furious-looking Pansy Parkinson arrived after them, the
former with a limp that Harry was overjoyed to see), than Professor McGonogall opened the
Great Hall doors and ushered them inside. "Sit in any place you like, all stations are identical.
You will use the ink and quill- and only the ink and quill- provided, each of which has been
enchanted with the strictest anti-cheating charms. Let me assure you that, as with the tests
two years from now and all of your O.W.L.s, many generations of students have gone before
you. You will not succeed where they have not, and where they succeeded, you will also fail.
The Wizarding Examinations Authority is not to be trifled with, and any cheating will be
dealt with... harshly. Do not turn over your pages until you are instructed to do so by
Professor Marchbanks."

Harry quietly joined the queue heading through the doors. It was a much more subdued affair
than the panicked rush most had left the Great Hall in just a few minutes earlier. Had they,
like he, resigned themselves to their fate?

Looking around as he passed through the doors, giving a solemn, worried nod to Professor
McGonagall, who returned it with a tight-lipped smile, Harry swallowed.

The room was nearly identically arranged to how it had appeared in Snape's memory of the
day he'd called Harry's mother a Mudblood, with only a few more desks added for the larger
class size in their year. He gave a little smile, then slipped in behind Hermione, with Ron
sliding in next to her on the right. On Harry's right sat Neville, who immediately began
gnawing on his thumbnail.

The ancient-looking witch, the eldest of the lot who had appeared the previous day, sat on the
desk that had replaced the staff table on the dais at the far end of the room. The other
examiners and Professors McGonagall, Vector and Burbage stood around the sides of the
room. A few seconds after the last student had sat down, Marchbanks stood, and in a thin,
reedy voice under the obvious effects of the sonorus charm, called, "When I say to turn your
pages over, the test begins. Your time will end at precisely eleven. Unanswered questions will
not be marked against you, but nor will they count toward your final grade. If you do not
know something, it is better to skip it than be incorrect. Cheating of any sort will not be
tolerated, and the proctors and I will have our eyes open. If you need assistance, your quill
breaks, or for any other urgent need, simply raise your hand and a proctor will assist you. If
you need a bathroom break, do the same. You are permitted one five-minute break before
lunch, which will occur at nine in the morning. You will be permitted only to use the
restrooms without escort at that time, and proctors will be preventing you from going beyond
the entrance hall restrooms. Attempting to get past them for any reasons short of life-
threatening emergencies is grounds for failing this examination."

Before Harry could even truly process how dire that threat was, she had said just three more
words: "You may begin."

He hurriedly flipped his test over, skimmed the instructions, and... exhaled in relief.

He, like Ron, knew the Levitation Charm backward and forward. With a grin, he began to
write.
By ten thirty, he was in a bit more of a bind.

There was a charm to turn paint into acid? Where had they learned that? Had he missed that
day?

The next question, too, Harry had to leave blank. Why would someone invent a charm to
expel mucous from their nose? Wasn't that what blowing it and tissues were for?

Then, Harry grinned in relief. Finally, one he could answer!

1. A) describe the wand movement, and B) the incantation, of a charm to amplify one's
voice.

Sonorous, merely touching the tip of your wand to the voice box, he wrote, then scratched it
out and reversed the order. For a moment, he wondered if that would be marked against him,
then decided that if it was, there was nothing he could do about it.

One more question... ten more minutes. Harry took a deep breath, then looked down the page.

1. A) What is the maximum radius allowed by the Silencing Charm, and B) why does that
limit exist?

Harry blinked, thought for a moment. Esoteric knowledge like that was really more
Hermione's thing, but... Something about... sound waves....?

He grinned again, and set quill to parchment. The maximum effective radius of the Silencing
Charm is fifteen feet from the point of origin, which has led to some Muggle myths or games
having such effects or spells as "Silence, 15' Radius". The reason is not magical in nature at
all. It is, according to the leading theory of the day, penned by Miranda Goshawk, that the air
molecules are stifled in that immediate area, preventing them from bouncing off each other to
carry a sound wave. Beyond 10', the effect of the spell is drastically harder to maintain due to
the level of force required with exponentially increasing volume contained, and at 15' there is
just too much motion for any human to stop with a single spell. Layering and overlapping the
spell is somewhat effective, however, though it does, according to Goshawk, have diminishing
returns.

For a moment, Harry felt inordinately proud of himself.

He had three minutes to spare, and he'd finished almost completely, only skipping three
questions total.

On four, like the last question, he'd even added extra information in an almost Hermione-
esque manner.

So he, at least, was smiling when he led Ron, Hermione, and Neville out of the Hall and into
the entrance chamber so the staff could return the usual tables for lunch.

"I can't believe I did something so stupid," Hermione muttered, "Mis-writing how the
Cheering Charm works..."
"Relax, Hermione," Ron said consolingly, putting an arm over her shoulders as he led her to
the stairs to take a seat along many of the other students, "You did fine, and you'd know it if
you'd just believe in yourself like we do."

"Don't be silly, Ron," she half-sobbed, "I'm sure I did just terribly."

"Well," Harry said with a smile, "If you did terribly, then I'm sure Ron and I are about to be
tossed out of Hogwarts."

"Don't even say that," Hermione groaned, though she did give a weak smile when Ron
laughed with him.

Knowing that she would be okay, and that Ron was, at least, resigned to whatever would
happen (he was not so invested in being an Auror as Harry was, only wanting the job because
Harry did and because 'Aurors are cool'), Harry took the chance to look around at the other
students.

Many of them were still visibly worried about their performance, and even Neville looked a
bit more worried, but his eyes stopped on Daphne Greengrass, who looked more... what was
the word? Panicked? No... but definitely more stressed than the other Slytherins. She was
standing by herself, leaning against a statue near the doors, back in a corner. And... reading?

Where, Harry wondered, was her friend?

After a moment's looking around, he spotted the dark-haired girl reading furiously herself, a
dozen or so feet away from Daphne. "I'll be right back," he murmured to Ron, then started
wending his way through the throng.

Fortunately, there was just enough cover that he was fairly certain his best friends weren't in
sight when he slipped around into the little alcove. Ron still wasn't, Harry thought, entirely on
board with him having shagged a Slytherin, future concubine or not, and he didn't want to
add fuel to the fire. Not to mention, if anyone saw the two of them talking...

It might start rumors.

Harry looked down at the book before she noticed him. Hexes for the Vexed. The same
Defense book she had reviewed last week in Potions, when they had shared a desk.
"Personally," Harry said quietly, making her jump, "I preferred The Dark Arts Outsmarted.
Hexes is a decent read, plenty of good information, but it's just offense. A good duelist or
fighter needs both offense and defense."

"What would you know about it?" Daphne asked brusquely, shooting him a glare, "And who
said you could talk to me, or that I wanted your advice?"

"Relax," Harry said, smiling, "No one is looking this way, and no one could see you past me,
since you're sitting down in the dark. I'm just a guy leaning against a statue, along, talking to
myself. No need to worry yourself."
Indeed, after the glance at her book, Harry wasn't looking at the blonde, either. Instead, he
was watching the crowd, and moving his mouth as little as possible just in case someone
really was watching.

"Fine," she grumbled, "That only answers one thing."

"I know quite a lot about Defense, actually," Harry said a little smugly, "given that everything
I ever said in Umbridge's class or in the interview for the Quibbler is true. Not to mention the
Defense group I teach."

Daphne was silent for several seconds. "That... the Inquisitorial Squad was put together,
according to Malfoy, just to find you. Unless you're lying."

"Little old me?" Harry smiled fully for what felt like the first time in weeks, "I'm honored."

"You've been a real thorn in Umbridge's side... don't suppose you had anything to do with her
'scandal'?"

Harry shrugged, "Not that I can say for sure. I might have given someone an idea, but I didn't
directly involve myself in any way."

Again, she was quiet for a few seconds. Then, just when he thought she wouldn't respond,
Daphne murmured, "Very Slytherin of you, Potter. I wouldn't have expected it. Well handled,
too, from what I can see. You'll have to... explain in more detail, sometime. Sometime not at
school."

"Maybe," he nodded, speaking softly since a Ravenclaw girl he didn't know was walking
nearby, muttering incantations to herself, "If you can make it worth my while, of course.
You're all about dealing, right? Making deals?"

She snorted, "If that's what you want to think, I suppose I can continue that way. I was mostly
just looking to hear a fascinating tale of someone being put in their place after being a raging
cow."

"Well, then, Miss Greengrass," Harry replied, "I might be more willing to oblige, then. But I
really don't know too much. Anyway, how did you do?"

"I performed adequately, of course," Daphne said with a small scowl, "How else would I do?
I'm a perfectly capable witch, thank you. While I may not be Granger, I do have a brain
between my ears."

"As you do," Harry agreed at once, "and I'm sorry if I implied otherwise. I was just... hoping
for a civil conversation that doesn't involve deals or how much we both dislike Malfoy or
Umbridge."

Whatever Daphne had been about to say got caught in her throat. Instead, she turned slightly
pink and looked down.

This time, she said nothing until Harry gave up and was a few paces away. Then, she
whispered quietly, "Dark Arts Outsmarted?"
He nodded, glancing back with a smile, then returned to his friends, just in time for lunch.

Demonstrating the same charms he had just been asked to write about was not, in Harry's
opinion, an entirely difficult proposition.

The oldest, male examiner, probably within a decade of Marchbanks herself, a very bald,
wrinkled old wizard named Tofty, had been the one to examine Harry. While Harry would
never consider himself a Charms master, he did know magic in general fairly well by that
point, and even surprised himself with the ease and confidence he felt in casting what, for the
most part, were fairly basic, simple charms. Making a teacup tap dance, while not useful, was
something they learned early in second year.

Animation charms, temporary though they were, had whiled away many an hour that year.
Color changing charms were even easier, a bit longer lasting, and had occupied hours the
previous year. Levitation, too, he had mastered at roughly the same speed as Ron. Growth
charms, though... The thought of something swelling made him think of sex.

Predictably, his cast for that spell had been a bit awry. His spell, while a correctly pronounced
engorgio charm, did not hit the duck he had been aiming at. Instead, it hit Professor Tofty's
pants.

They, again predictably, fell to the ground nearly at once. Fortunately, the older wizard was
wearing thick robes, and was quick to react. Only Harry, it turned out, saw anything
untoward.

"Mm... not to worry, Potter," Professor Tofty grumbled, "Not the first time that's happened...
only seems to happen to me, for some reason. Maybe next year I'll invest in some suspenders,
hmm? Of course, I think I said that last year, too... but your charm worked, and that's the
important thing. Maybe work on your aim. Off you go."

Harry sighed, leaning back into his favorite armchair by the fire in the Gryffindor common
room. To his right, on the couch sat Hermione and Ron, with Neville on his left. Beyond Ron,
Lavender Brown sat in the nearer of the two armchairs on the opposite side.

The only other occupants of the room at the hour, despite it being only eight in the evening,
were two seventh-years Harry did not know the name of, snogging quietly in the farthest,
darkest corner.

Hermione, stifling a yawn, spoke up, the first voice Harry had heard for more than twenty
minutes, "Alright, that's enough for me. I'm going to bed. Good night, all, and good luck to us
tomorrow."

Each of them nodded, wishing Hermione a good night, including Lavender, who had been
giving her roommate the stink-eye for days ever since she had verbally complained that she
couldn't remember half of what she'd been taught in the previous five years.

Perhaps it was a bit unfair of Hermione to cattily reply that, if Lavender had paid as much
attention to her schoolwork as her hair, clothes, or boys, she would have an easier time. As it
was, though, Harry was simply glad that the two hadn't been at each other's throats this
evening.

In fact, when Ron, then Lavender, begged off, headed for bed themselves, it was the quietest
night Harry could remember, and, despite the stress of the tests they were now fully into, he
felt more relaxed than he had in months.

True, the O.W.L. exams were very important to his, and all Hogwarts students' futures, but
really, they were just... not that challenging. Perhaps it was the lower overall stress level?

The thought made Harry blink, looking up from the Transfiguration notes Hermione had
dropped on top of Ron's, who had then dropped them on top of Harry's, before heading to
bed.

A quick glance behind him to the right showed that the seventh-year boy had his hand well
inside the other girl's robes, but neither seemed to even be aware of the two remaining fifth-
years, so he didn't think much of it. Neville, though, was mouthing along as he read through
his own notes rapidly, his lips tight.

"Hey, Neville," Harry whispered.

The other boy did not respond.

"Neville," he hissed again, this time a bit louder and more forceful. The other boy jumped,
eyes darting around wildly for a moment, before settling on Harry with a scowl.

"What, Harry?"

It was such an unfamiliar expression, aside from in the D.A., that Harry almost snapped back
out of reflex before he caught himself, and forced himself to say what he had originally
intended. "Erm... you look a bit stressed, that's all. I was wondering if there was... something
I could do. To help."

"No, thank you," his roommate sighed after staring, unseeing, at him for a few seconds, then
raking his hand through his own dark hair. "I'm... I think I'm going to go to bed. The words
are starting to run together, anyway."

"Hold on," Harry interrupted, holding up a hand to stall his friend, "No, really. I think I can
help. You... you remember that potion I gave you, right?"

Neville immediately blushed, but his exhausted expression switched to another frown, as he
glanced into the far corner. "Yeah, but I'm too tired to wait for it to kick in, and I'm not really
interested in seeing... well, whoever that is."

"I know," Harry explained, lowering his hand and leaning in, giving one more glance around
the room to be sure no one was listening, "But I... have an idea, and I think it'll help. It's a bit
more... well, tactile."

Neville frowned, shooting Harry a half-curious, half-annoyed look, "I don't know what you're
thinking, Harry, but I'm not going to wank for you, or anything. You aren't my type."
Before he could stop himself, Harry laughed, making the girl in the corner squeak-
apparently, she really had forgotten other people might be in the room. "No, no, that's not
what I..."

He waited, watching with his eyes as the older students, both blushing, gave each other a
final kiss goodnight then darted up the stairs to their respective dorms. Once they were gone
and the doors shut behind them, he leaned in, "You might've noticed I'm more relaxed, lately?
I found a... a friend. One who is willing to help with... that sort of thing. She's very pretty, and
very good at what she does."

"And who's this 'friend'," Neville asked suspiciously.

That, as well, was not an expression Harry was used to seeing on the other boy, but he had to
admit to himself that, had Neville been the one to tell Harry the same information, he would
probably react the same way. "I can't tell you," he replied quietly, "For her own protection.
You understand- she doesn't want, well..."

"A reputation as a slag?"

Harry nodded.

Neville remained tense for several seconds, then let all the air out of his lungs with a sigh,
running both hands through his now messy hair as he leaned back much as Harry had been,
eyes locked on the low fire. "I... look, I like the idea, but... I don't want to be with a slag. You
already know there's someone I..."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I get that. I really do. But I'm not asking you to make love to her, or
anything. Just... let her help you. You'll be more relaxed and less tense for the O.W.L.s
tomorrow, if nothing else."

Neville sighed again. "You and Ron both had her, yeah?"

"No," Harry said truthfully, "Well... in the way I expect she'll be helping you, yes. But so far
as I know, the only person she's been with that way has been me."

"I really don't think Hermione would agree," Neville sighed, leaning back even further and
closing his eyes, "And if she did, I..."

"It's not Hermione," Harry said when he trailed off.

Neville was quiet for a while, the only sound their own breathing and the quiet crackle of the
fire, occasionally interrupted by the whip of an owl's wing as it hunted near the window.
"And... okay, say I agree. Then what? It's too late to get a hold of anyone."

Harry fished in his pocket briefly for his D.A. coin, lifting it out to hold up for a moment.
"This isn't how I can get a hold of her," he explained, "But what if it was something like this?
And she could get here safely?"

Neville gulped. "And... then what? Where would we go? What would I have to do? How
would I... I don't know, r- repay the favor?"
Harry was the one to frown this time. "Repay? No way. This is me trying to help you out, it
doesn't need payment or repayment. I was thinking right here, since everyone else is in bed.
And no, I'm not planning on blackmailing you, or the girl. I think you know me better than
that. How...? Well, I was thinking of blindfolding you, but how about the girl being very, very
well disillusioned? You'd be able to hear, smell, feel her, but you wouldn't be able to see her."

"I don't know. It still sounds... risky. I'm not sure."

Harry nodded, "Alright. I get it. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

He stood up, packed the notes away along with their books in his bag, and started heading for
the stairs. He made it all the way to the door before Neville's voice called out, "W- Wait. I...
I'll do it. If I have your word it's safe, and- and Hannah never finds out."

"It'd be as safe as I can make it," Harry replied over his shoulder, "And I can't promise that-
but she won't find out from me, or from my friend, that I can promise."

Neville was silent for exactly three more seconds before he nodded. "O- Okay. What do I
need to do?"

"Just close your eyes and wait," Harry replied, "I'll go get her after I drop things off. I'll wake
you up- so you know it's safe- then be off to bed myself once she's here. If you fall asleep,
we'll try again tomorrow. It shouldn't take long to get her, though."

Neville nodded, immediately closing his eyes and leaning back into the armchair. Harry
noticed, as he turned back toward the door to the boy's stairs, the other boy surreptitiously
adjusting himself in his trousers. The smile didn't fade from his face while he ascended the
several flights of stairs.

Lilith was not naked on his bed when he arrived, but she was standing next to it wearing what
appeared to be a girl's nightshirt of some sort, about to climb into it. Ron, Seamus, and Dean
were all clearly asleep, because the Succubus greeted him verbally, if quietly, "Hello, Master.
You came up later than I expected."

"I know," he said just as quietly, crossing over to the small creature and pulling her into an
embrace, finishing with a brief kiss before he asked, "Do you want to go help a friend of
mine?"

Lilith blinked, then glanced around the room. "Neville?"

It was, after all, the only empty bed.

Harry nodded, "He's in the common room."

Lilith considered, then nodded, "Of course, Master. I can't have sex with him, though."

"I know, he's still a virgin," Harry replied, "I'm working on that, but I'm not sure I even want
you to. I just... he was really tense."

"And you thought of me?"

Harry nodded. "If you don't want to, it's fine, I just..."

"No, I do," the Succubus said with a smile, placing a finger against Harry's lips, "I'm happy to
help, especially since I get to keep the results. He tastes almost as good as Master. But won't
you be lonely?"

Harry shrugged, "I was thinking of going to sleep, actually. I've got Transfiguration
tomorrow, remember?"

"Alright," Lilith said with a soft shrug, "I'll come join you later, but I won't wake you up if
you're asleep, alright?"

Harry nodded, gave her another long kiss, then climbed into bed as she slipped from the
room.

Only after the door shut did he remember he'd agreed to let Neville know it was safe. He shot
out of bed as quietly as he could and dashed down the stairs, leaving the door open. He was
only going to be gone a few seconds, really, it would be fine.

Fortunately, while panting, he got to the bottom of the stairs just before Lilith touched the
other boy, and mentally commanded, "Wait!"

With one hand outstretched, Lilith paused, looking over her shoulder. What is it, Master?

"J- Just hold on. I told him you'd be invisible, for one thing. You can be invisible and solid,
right?"

She nodded.

"Do that, then. After I signal it's safe. And keep an- whatever you use to sense other people-
open. He's worried about being interrupted."

Lilith nodded once more, then turned toward Neville, letting her hand fall slowly as she
partially faded from Harry's sight, I don't sense anyone else awake in the whole Tower,
Master, except one frustrated older boy and one frustrated older girl... and your friend,
Hermione. She's enjoying herself right now, thinking of you and Ron.

Harry grinned at the idea, but didn't let himself focus on it too much. He had things to do, like
sleep. "A- Alright, Nev, it's me," he whispered from the stairs, "My friend's right in front of
you. She is invisible, but you'll be able to feel her if you reach out- try not to smack her in the
face. Enjoy."

Harry turned quickly after he finished speaking, but still caught just a glimpse of Neville's
shocked face as Lilith started freeing his erection from his trousers before he quietly shut the
door and returned to his bed.

It took him a few minutes to free his mind of the image of Neville getting a blow-job from
his pet Succubus, but in the end, he didn't really find it any more unpleasant than Ron getting
the same. He knew who she was really here for, who her Master truly was.
She called him that almost exclusively, after all. He drifted off within ten minutes total,
relaxed and ready for a good night's sleep.

Hermione groaned in frustration as she threw the blankets off of herself and sat up. She'd
always been someone who had difficulty falling asleep when she was stressed, and stress was
something she felt a lot of these days. The O.W.L.s might have been most of it, true, but she
was also conflicted about a few other major events.

Dumbledore no longer being in the school (he had still not been allowed to return, despite
Umbridge's sacking, at least not yet) was the least of her current worries. She, like all of
Harry's real friends, knew that Voldemort was out there, that he was back to full strength and
gathering followers and wealth for the coming war, while the Ministry hid its head in the
sand and actively worked to prevent people from believing that very thing.

The method of Umbridge's removal, foul a woman as she was, gave Hermione pause, too, but
she could not fault the reasoning Lilith had given her. The wicked woman had needed to go,
and while fabricating the method of her departure made Hermione wonder just how far the
Succubus would be willing to go to keep her Contract, the part of the witch that was still
proud, even a year later, of how she'd 'dealt with' Rita Skeeter found a perverse sort of joy in
Umbridge's removal and the damage to her reputation (if nothing else) that would surely
follow.

Snape... well, he may have been an expert potioneer, but Hermione knew full well that his
teaching style was abysmal, and that even if he was trustworthy, which she still maintained
due to her own faith in Dumbledore, the student body was likely far better off with Healer
Tonks as their teacher going forward.

Which left her worries down to just a few things: Ron, Harry, and herself.

Despite both boys apparently being willing to 'share' (so long as they shared the other-planar
creature, too, she knew), they could change their minds at any time if jealousy reared its
head. And if she were honest with herself, Hermione just didn't know what she would do if it
did. I really do love them both. I don't want to choose between them, not ever. But if I stay
with both, doesn't that make Skeeter's article about me last year true, in a way? Going after
Quidditch players, sure, but also leading Harry or Ron along for the other? Or that I'm a
slag if I'm putting out for both?

... Which, to be fair, I am.

Shit, how did I let myself get pulled into this?

And what should I do about it? I wish one of them was here. Or both of them... I need a hug.

The last thought was a few seconds later after Hermione realized that she'd sat up in her bed
fully with her legs crossed and a hand between them already moving in small circles, Or a
dick.
Fuck. I really have turned into a slag... but it's awfully late to sneak over there and shag one
of them. I guess it's back to the old hand...

For a moment, she debated using her wand as a dildo, now that her virginity was gone, but
decided against it. Rumors of a seventh-year trying that and severely hurting herself with a
mis-cast spell still echoed through her mind from the 'talk' they'd been given by prefects in
their third year.

Familiar fingers, long-since used to pleasuring herself like she knew most people were at her
age, melted into equally familiar folds as she leaned back on one finger and pressed two
fingers of the front hand into her hole, imagining them as one of her boy's cocks. Shit, I wish
one would just show up, right now... Hell, I'd even take Lilith eating me out again, I want to
cum so bad just so I can sleep...

She climaxed with a soft cry a few seconds later, blissfully unaware of the soft, invisible dust
that the Succubus she'd just been thinking of had been seeding her bed with for more than a
week. She had always been prone to over-analysis, stress, and anxiety over her studies. But
thanks to the Dust, and her manual relaxation techniques, Hermione got quite a good night’s
sleep for once.
 Ordinary Witches Love Sex (Too)
Chapter Summary

OWLs are upon the fifth years of Hogwarts, and the end of school draws nigh.
Harry sets several of his plans into motion, and brings another of his closest friends into
the small circle who knows about Lilith.
Mid-way through the exams, Harry even does a favor- for purely altruistic reasons- for
that same friend, while arranging even more for both of them.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 10: Ordinary Witches Love Sex (too)

Harry yawned sleepily as he devoured his eggs and toast with gusto. Hermione, this time, sat
on his right, with Ron on his left, and a sleepy-looking Neville sat across from all three, idly
stirring his hot cereal. The four of them, alone, seemed an island of calm among the
Gryffindor fifth years, the rest of whom were frantically cramming in another few minutes of
review, just like they had the previous day for Charms.

Hermione was the only one of the four still reviewing, and she was doing so at a much more
casual pace, focusing more on consuming a good breakfast than her reading.

Harry looked around the Great Hall as he finished his breakfast, mostly to take stock of how
much things had changed in the last two and a half weeks. Daphne Greengrass, at the
Slytherin table, was once again eating alone aside from the more petite, dark-haired girl, both
looking tense themselves as they poured over several books, no doubt on Transfiguration.

Draco Malfoy was staring blankly into his own bowl of hot cereal, not eating, and not
studying, but Harry thought he looked quite sick. No doubt, he had reason to, if what Harry
was starting to suspect about the other boy was true.
Pansy Parkinson, at the same table, was also surrounded by books and friends, but it seemed
like, at least, the older two twin girls were helping her study, for each surrounded the fifth-
year, pointing out this passage or that in the books each had open before them.

No one, yet, in either Ravenclaw, aside from Cho or Marietta, who were chatting quietly, or
Hufflepuff had earned Harry's attention, though he had plans to that effect (and not for lack of
trying in at least two Hufflepuff's cases). In Gryffindor, though...

But before Harry could contemplate the Chaser Trio, Gryffindor's Flying Foxes, or
Hermione, or anyone else in his own House, Professor McGonagall stood up and cast the
sonorous charm on herself to announce, "Attention, Students! The time has come to prepare
for the Transfiguration Examination for the fifth years. The procedure for all years will be
identical to that of yesterday. The fifth years will gather in the entrance hall while the staff
and examiners arrange the Great Hall, and the seventh years will proceed to the same hall as
yesterday. The remaining students will continue their regularly scheduled classes for end-of-
year exams. Thank you."

As usual, there was a great scraping of benches and rustling of clothes and shoes as the
students, en masse, hurried to obey amid a sea of suddenly much-increased tension. Ten
minutes later, Harry found a corner desk and was quickly joined by Neville, Ron, and
Hermione who took the three nearest him, to wait for the proctor- an older witch at least two
decades younger, he thought, than Madame Marchbanks- to begin the written exam.

1: Describe the changes necessary to perform a non-ferrous metallic Transfiguration to A) a

ferrous metal, B) a non-metal mineral.

Harry frowned, thinking, then started to write. This was not, he thought hopefully, something
he knew as well as Charms, and he was no Hermione, but he wasn't terrible in
Transfiguration, either, even if the theory was definitely harder for him than the practical...

"And time's up, students! Time is up! Please put down your quills and turn your examinations
back over! Time's up!"

Harry yawned, flexing his right hand to work out the kinks. Thinking back, he could
definitely have done worse. There was a moment when he had written five lines of an answer
about switching spells- defining them, essentially- where he had started writing about a
charm to switch candles off and on, before catching himself and putting in the right
definition.

He was four questions short of finishing, but felt like he'd done alright, all the same.

"So," Ron asked the group as they started moving toward the entry hall, "What's for lunch?"

The Practical Transfiguration Exam saw Harry holding his wand before Professor
Marchbanks herself. "Alright, Potter," she said, gesturing at the third and last of the animals
on the tabletop, "Simply Vanish the iguana. Relax, take your time. Don't-"
Three students to Harry's right, several people squealed as a profusion of rabbits appeared in
front of Hannah Abbot's examiner.

But Harry, using all the concentration he possessed, remained focused. Pointing the tip of his
wand at the iguana, which flicked its long tongue out even as the protruding eye tracked the
wood in his hand, he flicked it to the right while incanting, "Evanesco!" with the emphasis, as
Hermione had taught him, on the "es" syllable.

At once, the entire lizard vanished.

Marchbanks nodded, "Well, well. Excellent form and pronunciation. Your final task, then, for
bonus points... can you undo your earlier efforts?"

Harry frowned faintly, but nodded, "I think so, Professor."

"Very well. Begin with the button."

Still fighting to ignore the rabbits that were now scurrying throughout the entire Great Hall,
even between his feet, Harry pointed, this time, at the small object that had once been a snail,
resting in a little terrarium just a few inches across. "Vertiveros."

His pronunciation, this time, was not quite perfect, Harry knew, but the button did morph
quickly back into the rainbow-shelled creature, which immediately resumed sliding across
the rock it had been before, as if to flee from Harry.

"And the kiwi?"

Harry took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, taking aim once more. This spell, animate-
to-animate, had no special wand movement, but as a result, the intent and pronunciation were
paramount.. The latter was the one thing, like Ron, Harry struggled with the most in practice.
Still, he knew the word, for it was the same basic spell, with a different word, as he'd used to
turn the hedgehog into the bird in the first place. "Einafors."

To Harry's immense relief, the Kiwi did, indeed, revert back to a slightly off-colored
Hedgehog, one a little darker brown than the one that had been there when he had stepped up
to the table.

"Mm. Not quite perfect," the stern old witch said, leaning over the table with one hand on her
glasses and peering down, "But otherwise well done. And the last...?"

Here, Harry stumbled. "Er... I don't know a spell to un-vanish a creature, Professor. Sorry."

Marchbanks looked up from the table to peer into Harry's eyes for a moment. Then, to his
shock, she smiled, revealing several dark or missing teeth, "And well you shouldn't, boy.
Conjuring many animals is illegal, you know. An iguana may not be technically illegal, but
there's a reason we don't teach it until your sixth year. Alright, move along. Next!"

He blinked, nonplussed, then hurried to obey, glancing back as a scowling Blaise Zabini
came up behind him.
That could have gone much worse, he thought, while hurrying back into the steady line of
students leaving the Great Hall through the back way.

That evening was uneventful, aside from Neville pulling Harry aside on their collective way
up to Gryffindor Tower after dinner to give Harry a most heartfelt thanks for both himself,
and his 'mysterious friend', along with assurances that yes, he was feeling a lot more relaxed,
now.

The whole thing left Harry quite happy to indulge in a bit of Lilith's oral attention before he
went to bed, himself, after another semi-late night studying for Herbology.

A Herbology Exam which, afterward, Harry felt he had done reasonably well on, largely due
to the cram session led by, not Hermione, but Neville, the night before.

True, he'd gotten a small bit of his finger taken off by a fanged geranium, but he'd had worse.
Much worse, in fact, and the examiner had mended the injury down to a tiny scar before he'd
left the practical exam.

The evening, too, was enjoyable, but relatively quiet. Instead of having a late-night cram
session, Harry had, with Umbridge removed from the school, alerted everyone in the D.A. to
meet once more, in the Room of Requirement just after dinner for a long review session.

It went surprisingly smoothly, almost like the fifth or sixth meeting they'd had, once he'd
really started to get into his stride as an instructor, with each and every member- even Cho
and Marietta- attentive and giving the spells and the question-and-answer period he had
agreed to this one meeting only their full focus.

It had ended well after curfew, but Neville had the bright idea of asking the Room to create
exits just outside each House's common rooms, to at least minimize the risk of being
discovered, with everyone, especially Harry, feeling both satisfied and prepared for the
following day.

Though, watching Marietta scowl at Hermione a few times while scratching her forehead
made him wonder what was going on.

For her part, his best female friend only fought to control a smirk whenever she noticed the
older girl glaring at her.

Rather than enjoy Lilith himself- he was rather tired- Harry told Ron that he could enjoy her,
as long as he didn't wake the others up.

He never did ask what they got up to, but the broad smile on his best friend's face the next
day told Harry that, yes, he and Lilith had 'fornicated', as the paper had called it.

It was an expression that, briefly, made Hermione frown as she joined them before heading
down to breakfast, but before they got out of the common room she appeared to have pushed
those feelings aside and walked between them with her hands holding open Harry's own
borrowed copy of The Dark Arts Outsmarted.

Once they had nearly finished their breakfasts, Harry was awake enough to risk her ire... a
little. Best to be political, in his opinion. "So, Hermione... I noticed Marietta was glaring at
you a bit last night. What did she do?"

He would never accuse Hermione of being the instigator. Even if she had been, that would
just be asking for trouble- and doubtless, lower grades on his O.W.L.s.

Hermione sniffed, glancing over her shoulder to the Ravenclaw table, where, indeed, a
frowning sixth-year girl suddenly looked down at her plate. "Oh, nothing too much. She just
tried to blab to Umbridge about the D.A. She didn't, of course, because..."

Harry nodded, then whispered, "Lilith?"

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, and she told me about it the next morning. So I met Luna at the
entrance to the Ravenclaw common room and she let me in to reverse the charm and talk to
her about it. I didn't... give anything away, I think. Instead, I sort of... I might have led her to
assume, incorrectly, that the paper for the D.A. didn't only cause the word 'sneak' to appear
on her forehead in bright purple, and very painful, pimples, but also alerted me to who had
done it. After we talked about it, I undid the charm. The pain is... echoing. It'll fade, I'm sure,
as the pimples continue to heal. Probably by tomorrow they'll be gone completely."

Harry squinted over Hermione's shoulder, trying not to make it too obvious, but he could,
indeed, make out heavier than normal makeup on the older girl's face. "Huh. And... what was
she trying to tell Umbridge?"

Hermione shrugged, "About the D.A., of course. Her mum's apparently a Ministry employee,
and she urged her to go to Umbridge with concerns. I guess Marietta thought we would get in
trouble. This was all before... well, the paper."

Harry nodded, "Alright, I guess I can drop it, but... do you think we can trust her?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione conceded, "But as last night was probably our last meeting, unless
we need to do it next year, too, I don't see the point of worrying about it. It's not like she's our
friend, or anything."

"Er..."

Harry looked away, blushing slightly, to prod Ron in an attempt to get his attention away
from breakfast.

It failed, of course. Or, maybe, Ron had been listening and was only pretending to stay out of
it.

Wise of him, if so, Harry admitted to himself.

"You didn't," Hermione hissed, glaring across the table at Harry, then Ron. "Wait- both of
you?"
Harry nodded glumly.

But Hermione did not explode. Instead, she took in a hiss of anger, then let it out in a long,
slow exhale. "Fine. Fine! This is what I get for being patient, I guess. No more, not her.
She's- you know she's a total slag, don't you?"

Harry nodded, answering for both him and Ron, "Yeah... and if you don't want us to, I won't.
Ron has to decide for himself, if he's listening."

The red-head shrugged, not looking up from his plate, "If you don't want me to, I won't,
Hermione. I didn't go looking for her, if that's what you think. Neither of us did, and we didn't
know- or at least, I didn't- about her reputation until after."

Still seething, but doing so quietly, Hermione repeated, "Fine. I'll do my best to forget it.
After all, I don't have proof of her reputation. But I mean it, not with her, not again, or not
with me. I can't- Just- eww."

Harry didn't really see what Hermione was getting at, but the choice was easy, even if he felt
it a bit unfair. He would always take Hermione first in that choice, no matter what.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts examination, Harry felt he had done particularly well in.
For one thing, the questions on the written exam did not seem to have changed much since
seeing the memory, earlier in the year, of Snape's examinations. He doubted, somehow, that
anyone would really believe his answer of just how big a Basilisk could get, or would think to
wonder exactly how he knew what the venom of the creature felt like as it killed you in such
detail, but... Maybe they would.

The practical was, to him, almost a joke. The tasks they were given were not simple ones, not
by any means, but Harry knew the subject, after the last five years and especially this one,
exceedingly well.

Banishing a Boggart, for example, was almost child's play, though he was horrified to see not
the Dementor, but a recreation of Molly Weasley's fears, as revealed by another Boggart
earlier in the school year.

When he was finished, Professor Tofty leaned in quietly, glancing around the room, "And,
Potter... I heard from my good friend Madame Marchbanks that you can produce a Corporeal
Patronus...? For a few bonus points...?"

Harry smiled, leaning in conspiratorially, "I can... in fact, I can name almost twenty other
students in the fifth, sixth, and even a few in the fourth year, that can produce one, too- and a
few others that can at least produce mist."

Then, glancing about to see that yes, Marchbanks and Professor McGonagall were at least
facing in his direction, Harry thought of Lilith, of Ron, of Hermione, of Cho, yes, but also of
seeing Umbridge sacked, of the quiet joy on his parents' faces in the Mirror of Erised, and
lifted his wand, aiming for the largest clear spot in the Great Hall. "Expecto Patronum."
The white stag erupted from his wand with great force, materializing in the empty spot
accompanied by the clatter and gasping of several students, most of whom backed away. A
few, though, had seen it before, and they, unbidden by any teacher or proctor, lifted their own
wands in unison.

Within just a few seconds- no more than a few tries for anyone- the stag was joined by an
otter, a beaver, a horse, a wolfhound, a terrier, and several other animals, including a few that
burst through the partly-open door to the entrance hall a few seconds after the first wave.

"I'll... take your word for it, Mr. Potter," Professor Tofty said, wiping away a tear of joy, no
doubt feeling the effects of so many strong, powerful patronuses in the same room. "Well
done... you taught them, I take it?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I was taught by Remus Lupin."

"Lupin... werewolf?"

Before he answered the old man's question, Harry searched his eyes, hoping to divine his
intent. What he found was not hostility or caution, only, as far as he could tell, a desire for
more information. "Yes. He was friends with my parents- I think of him as an uncle."

"I know the man," Tofty said quietly, "And he's a good one. Most werewolves these days
follow a fellow named Greyback. Beast of a man, even before he was turned, I tell you. But
Lupin's a good chap. Examined him myself, years ago now, in Transfiguration and Charms.
Smart, talented. A good influence on you, I hope, to counter your father's genetics."

Harry grinned, "Well, maybe not that good an influence. He was a Marauder, too."

"That he was," Tofty said with a smile of his own, "Off you go, then, Potter. And well done,
again."

As the Stag vanished, followed by so many others, from the Great Hall, Harry's elation and
joy did not fade.

For the first time, in fact, since finding out exactly the sort of bias the wizarding world had
against werewolves and 'part humans' in general, he felt hope.

If that one old man didn't hold any bias, then... there was hope. There had to be.

Not just for defeating Voldemort, but for crushing everything he claimed to stand for.

That night, with Lilith curled into his arms, Harry Potter slept better than he could ever
remember doing before.

The next morning, Friday, Ron and Harry had a particularly relaxing morning after breakfast,
for they did not have classes or exams. Hermione, though, did, and had grown a bit snappy at
anyone who dared interrupt her study time due to 'frivolity'.

Relaxation, though, was not what held Harry's interest that morning.
No, it was, in fact, a subject he'd been focused on a lot. Girls.

Shocking, really.

Not the least of which was an invisible Lilith underneath the table next to him, giving Ron a
blow-job while Harry did his best to provide distraction and cover. Fortunately, Neville was
on the other side of Ron, so the red-head at least had some cover, while Hermione was
studying so intently for her Ancient Runes examination, which was scheduled for
immediately after breakfast with no practical, that she seemed completely oblivious, despite
the fact that Lilith's small feet must have been between Hermione's own.

The fact that Harry knew that the Succubus- being able to see her hazy, half-translucent form-
was in her petite form most favored by him while she sucked on the older-looking boy's cock
like a lollipop was not helping his own libido.

Neville, for his part, seemed equally absorbed in watching a pair of girls over at the nearby
Hufflepuff table.

A pair that Harry had expected, if he'd thought about it.

Forcing down a grin- it wouldn't do to attract attention by actually smiling during this tense
time, though Ron seemed to be getting away with it- Harry reached back and into his bag,
pulling out a scrap of parchment and quill, along with a random book, under the guise of
'studying'.

Instead, though, he wrote a quick note before passing it behind Ron and tapping Neville's
back to get his attention, the note in the same hand.

You out of the Potion, then?

Neville, quite distracted, took several prods to break his focus on the ladies of Hufflepuff, but
once he did read the note, he blushed, then nodded. Harry withdrew the parchment, scribbled
until the first note was illegible, then wrote below it, "Did you have fun with my friend?"

This time, Neville seemed to be waiting for more, because he looked back and down after the
first poke. Again, he nodded, the blush still there.

Harry grinned, then scribbled out the second part, too, and flipped the scrap over for one
final, longer message. "Wouldn't mind netting some time with one of them, myself. Need a
wingman?"

Ron's breath, between them, had started to increase in pace, a sure sign he was getting close
to release, but Hermione still seemed oblivious, as did everyone else around. Harry fought to
ignore, for now, his own raging erection, wanting to save some energy (not that he ever
lacked it, anymore, not since the 'rune upgrade') for later.

Again, Neville nodded, though instead of growing more red, his skin tone actually lost
several shades, getting a bit pale.
Rather than communicate in written form again, Harry winked past Ron, giving a subtle
gesture toward the door with his chin. "Well, I'm stuffed. You enjoy, Ron. Hermione, good
luck, not that you'll need it. Neville, see you soon, I expect."

"Yeah, see you mate," Ron said distractedly.

Hermione only waved, not looking up from her book.

Neville, though, stammered out a quick 'bye', and hurried to snag a few more bites before
following Harry from the Great Hall.

Harry, who had ducked into an alcove below the grand stairs in the entrance hall to avoid the
already-gathering students of Ancient Runes (of which there were only thirteen, according to
Hermione, not counting herself), grabbed Neville's sleeve and pulled him into the same
space, then lead him down a little-used corridor beneath the stairs, directly on from the
entrance, which would eventually take them down to the docks where the boats were kept.

Harry, though, had no need to go that far, he only needed a bit of privacy to explain his plan.

"Okay, Neville. My friend, the one you 'met' the other day? She's not human."

Neville frowned, but nodded, "I... kind of thought that. Disillusionment Charms always leave
a blur, but... unless she was using your Cloak..."

Harry shook his head, "No, she... it's a power she has. She's human-like. Has all the right
parts, if you know what I mean."

Turning pink again, Neville nodded, muttering, "Yeah, I get it."

"But," Harry said, voice low, as he pulled Neville into a long-unused classroom, "she can't
become pregnant, or whatever, because she isn't human. With me?"

Again, Neville nodded, seeming somehow relieved, despite, as far as Harry knew, never
having had sex with anyone.

"Right, so, one of her other abilities, besides being invisible, is... how can I explain this... she
makes people, or she can make people, more... excited. The muggles use the term 'horny', but
I'm not sure if that's right in the Wizarding World."

Neville immediately turned bright red, shaking his head, and hissed, "Is that what Seamus
and Dean mean every time they say it?"

Turning, embarrassingly, a little pink himself, Harry nodded. But he ignored that, plowing on,
"It's not mind control, or emotion control, or anything like that. It just makes people think
about it a bit more- and a bit more favorably. If you want, she's willing to use that ability to
get your crush- whoever it is- to, well, be with you. More, anyway, since I'm pretty sure at
least one of them checks you out on a regular basis, like I mentioned before."

Neville nodded.
"Or," Harry continued, "if that kind of manipulation- and it is manipulation, even if not
control- makes you uncomfortable, then she can also do it on someone else you'd like to be
with, but not with, long-term."

Neville didn't say anything, merely stood there looking uncomfortable. But he did not leave,
did not tell Harry never to talk about it again, or anything like that.

"In fact, I know a girl in Gryffindor who would love to have sex with you, if you're really
desperate... but she's a school broom, if you get my meaning."

"That phrase I absolutely understand," Neville grumbled, "But if there's no one else... I have
to ask, Harry. Why do you want to do this?"

Pretending to be affronted, Harry put a hand on his chest, taking a half step back, "Ah!
Wounded! My dear Longbottom, the purest of altruism, of course!"

Neville did not laugh. Instead, he frowned. "No, really. What's in it for you?"

Harry schooled his features, but moved to sit on the nearest desk before turning to face
Neville, who had stayed by the door, "Really, some of it's just so you can relax a bit and have
fun. Look... Can I be honest with you, without worrying about you thinking I'm turning Dark
or something?"

Neville snorted, "Harry, I've known you for five years. I've seen you do things, and heard of
more. I don't think you could 'Go Dark'."

Harry shook his head, and, unable to force down the slightly wistful smile that slipped in,
replied, "Yeah, well... what if I told you I summoned a demon?"

Neville blinked.

"Yeah," Harry continued, "A Succubus, specifically. Not really a 'demon' from what I can tell,
but she's definitely not from this plane of existence. That's the... friend."

Neville's knees almost buckled, forcing Harry to jump to his feet and take two steps toward
his friend, whose hand reached for the door to steady himself, looking paler than Harry had
ever seen him. "A... A Succubus? You let a Succubus... with me?"

Harry nodded, "Is... that a problem? You liked it, right?"

Neville nodded, too, but frowned, looking quite upset, "That's not the point, Harry. I... I like
my soul where it is, thanks!"

At that, Harry actually laughed, though he stifled it quickly when Neville visibly grew even
more upset, "Look, I'm sorry," he said, quite sincerely, "But you misunderstand. She's not
after your soul, or even mine. That's not part of the deal. The Contract- she says it with a
capital-C- is for two things on my end, and two things on hers. You tell me if it's a bad deal."

"Go on," Neville eventually said, slowly walking over to sit on the teacher's desk, facing
Harry.
"Right. On my end, I get her help against Voldemort- in literally every way she can provide,
be it scouting, fighting (though I'd prefer to keep her out of a fight), or even recruiting. Of
course, being a Succubus, I get sex- great sex- and as much of that as I want from her,
whenever I want."

Neville pinked again, but said nothing, only gestured for Harry to continue with one hand,
while staring at the floor between them with a look of concentration.

"She gets my semen- yes, really, that's apparently quite useful for her people and her
dimension, or whatever- whenever we have sex, sometimes when I have sex with other
people- and, she can also gather up semen from other people nearby, to take back home when
she goes. I gather it's... I don't know, really, how it works, but I think it's like, the proteins or
something that their dimension doesn't have or create, or whatever, and they need it both to
reproduce and to build things. It's a bit fuzzy.

"But," Harry continued, "There is literally nothing in the Contract that mentions my soul, or
anyone else's, at all. If I break the contract, I get taken, physically, to her world to get fucked
to death by her people. She says it takes about five minutes. If she breaks it, there's
consequences, too."

"Sounds too good to be true, Harry," Neville sighed, running a hand over his face.

"It does," Harry immediately agreed, face solemn, "But that's really all it is. Everything else
is details. I'm required to have sex with her in some fashion daily, give or take, though we've
arranged to go up to a few days if we 'bank' some. She needs it regularly to stay in this world,
I think. But aside from that... it's free sex, so far as I can tell."

Neville shook his head, "I don't know, Harry. It... something about it rubs me the wrong way.
I mean, I'm grateful you offered her, but... I don't want to accept. Not that I don't want... the
other thing, but... not from her."

"Alright," Harry agreed, shrugging, "That's fine. I can probably arrange the Gryffindor girl I
mentioned by this afternoon, if you want. Getting your Hufflepuff girl might take a little
more work, but I'll still help with that. I do kind of need to know which one to focus on,
though... because I intend to claim the other myself, at least temporarily."

Neville turned deep scarlet, almost resembling Vernon Dursley, and not with embarrassment.
Or at least, not embarrassment alone. "The Succubus not enough for you?"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Uh... not really, no. I mean, yeah, sure, but... be honest with me,
Neville. If you, being fifteen, had the opportunity to have sex with several of the prettiest
girls in Hogwarts... wouldn't you take it?"

Begrudgingly, and after more than a minute of trying to deny it, Neville grumbled out, "Yeah,
I probably would."

"That," Harry explained, "is a side benefit of having my friend- her name's Lilith- around.
You notice, lately, how everyone in the Common Room is either studying, snogging, or trying
to find someone to snog?"
"Hard to miss," Neville said.

"Well, like I said, her influence. I think her just being around makes people a bit more randy.
Haven't noticed anything myself, but... I did see you and Alicia Spinnet snogging the other
day."

Neville turned bright red, looking away, "That... she... she offered to help. I didn't say... no, in
time."

"Help with what?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Er... k... kissing..."

Harry laughed, "Well, did you like it? She a good kisser?"

Neville shrugged, mumbling something unintelligible, then nodded weakly.

Harry deliberated for a moment, then leaned in, "Want a secret?"

Confused- what could be a secret, still, with all that Harry had already revealed?- he looked
up.

"Alicia's the one I think would be happy for a shag with you."

Harry didn't need to look down to see Neville's trousers start to tent.

"Alright, look," Harry chuckled, "Here's the deal. I'm going to go talk to your crush as soon
as we're done, but I have to know- from your mouth, not my suspicions- which of the two
you are looking at. Start the ball rolling, so to speak. Then, this afternoon, you and Alicia are
going to find some private place- the Room of Requirement, if nothing else- and she'll make
a man out of you. Deal?"

"Er... s- sounds great," Neville mumbled, still scarlet, "But again... what do you get out of it?"

Grinning, but perfectly serious, Harry said, "Well, the girl you don't want in Hufflepuff is
going to get some attention from me- I'll happily shag either one- and this way, I don't annoy
a good mate of mine by stealing the virginity of the girl he wants to take it from."

"Yeah... not buying that," Neville grumbled.

Harry shrugged, "It's true, though."

"Not the whole truth."

Again, Harry grinned, then decided to let this newer, shrewder, Neville have what he was
asking for, "And, if you aren't opposed- say, neutral- I'd also like to shag the one you do want.
At least once. In return, I will also continue facilitating your- fun- with other girls, should
you choose, and leave the offer to have fun with my friend on occasion."
Neville didn't say anything for a long time, merely watched Harry as he scanned the ill-used
room.

"So... you're asking to shag my hopefully-girlfriend, while she's my girlfriend, and in return
you'll- what's the phrase Dean uses- 'hook me up' with girls to cheat on my girlfriend with?"

"Or shag her before she's your girlfriend, whichever," Harry nodded. "No pressure, though.
I'll help you get the girl anyway, because we're friends. This is just... a bonus."

"Would you shag the hopeful-girlfriend anyway, if I said no?"

That question made Harry look toward his friend sharply, "No, I would not. If you say no,
that girl is off-limits unless or until it becomes clear you aren't together and never will be. I'm
trying to be nice, here, Neville, not steal your girl. I just want to shag her, 'cause I think both
Susan and Hannah are hot."

"Well, you aren't wrong," was Neville's first response. After a few more seconds, though, he
said, "I'll think about the- that part. Hannah, though. Hannah's the one. Had a crush on her
since first year."

"Alright," Harry said, nodding, and hopping up from the desk to head for the door, "So you
want the meet-up with Alicia, right?"

Neville nodded.

"Okay. I'll get it arranged. Er... you don't stink or anything, but make sure you're clean. Have
some juice- not pumpkin juice- at lunch. Trust me."

Then he left Neville in the classroom.

A quick glance of the waiting students in the entry hall told him that the Great Hall was
currently being rearranged, because Hermione was there, but neither Susan Bones nor
Hannah Abbot were present.

He was pleasantly surprised to see Daphne there but, in the interests of protecting both their
privacy, he ignored her for the moment and went to speak briefly to his friend.

She started after he tapped her on the shoulder, looking up with a scowl which only
marginally relaxed after seeing it was him, "What, Harry?"

"You," he ordered quietly but firmly, "Are going to relax for at least half the day tomorrow.
No questions. You can start studying after lunch. No debate, either."

She appeared about to protest, but after just a moment, her shoulders slumped, and she
whispered, "Alright. You're- you're probably right. I am feeling a bit stressed."

"Right. Good luck, again, not that you'll need it. I'll see you later."

He turned to go, but her hand flew into his, making him stop and turn. She said nothing, only
looked at him firmly for a moment, before letting go, leaving a piece of parchment in his
hand.

He waited until he was half-way up the stairs before opening, only to find there were two,
one with Ron's name and one with his, each with identical writing otherwise:

Tell me whom you shagged and how, in detail, tomorrow.

There was no indicator of motive, but it was definitely Hermione's writing.

He grinned, making his way quickly up to Gryffindor Tower, and through the common room,
filled with fifth- and seventh-years who did not have electives exams at the moment, many of
whom, yes, were mid-snog, and headed up to the dorm.

There, entering without knocking (after all, it was his dorm, too), Harry shut the door and
locked it with three different charms, before turning to see Lilith, voluptuous and appearing
about nineteen again, bouncing astride an equally-nude Ron, facing the door, and him, with a
wide smile. "He's a good shag, Master, thanks for letting us have this morning."

Harry grinned at the pair, winking at Ron, before the ginger turned his attention back to
pounding up into Lilith's cunt. He watched her large breasts bounce and whirl for a moment,
before heading to his trunk and withdrawing the Marauder's Map, checking the location of a
few people- the Hufflepuffs were in their common room, and temporarily unavailable- then
deactivating it and folding the worn parchment back up before putting it away.

"Want to stay for a tag-team, Master?"

Harry looked over his shoulder at his pet, smiling, "I'd love to, but I have things to do, people
to shag... you know how it is. Enjoy- Ron, I know you wanted to give me a show, but you
might shut the curtains and silence them. Never know when someone else will come up, and
you know Lilith doesn't mind a little prank by being invisible to some people and not
others..."

Ron groaned at the distraction, but the two did follow his suggestion as he left, still smiling...
and hornier than ever.

Apparently the Stamina Rune on Ron was really helpful.

Harry followed the Map's instructions, finding Alicia reading in one of the school Library's
private study rooms, usually reserved for those at the N.E.W.T.-level, sixth year and above,
and, thankfully, alone. It would make the conversation much easier if he didn't have to make
sure Katie and Angelina weren't in on it.

He knocked on the door softly, then let himself in without waiting for her to reply, before
shutting it again and turning to face her. Alicia was, of course, reading, but not what he'd
expected- it appeared to be a muggle novel of some sort, though the cover was facing the
table. "Hi, Alicia, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted a word, if you don't mind."

His former Quidditch team-member smiled, putting a bookmark in the novel and shutting it,
"Sure, Harry. What's up? Quidditch?"
He shook his head, "Do you mind if I sit? I won't be long, but..."

"No, go ahead," she gestured to the entire room, and the five other chairs at the slightly
longer table.

He chose to sit directly across from her, on the nearest narrow end to the door, and steepled
his hands, trying to come across as serious, but unsure if it worked. "I have a proposal for
you."

One of her eyebrows rose. "Your friend Ron need another shag? I told him he could just ask
me."

Harry blinked, shaking his head automatically. That was really close, but... "Er... why do you
think I set that up?"

She rolled her eyes, "Harry, the whole team- including his brothers, even though they're
gone- think you set that up. It's obvious."

He was a bit reluctant to take the credit- or the blame- for something Lilith had done, but in
the end, decided it wasn't worth explaining in full, so he shrugged, "A- Alright. Well... no, not
him. You... I saw you snogging Neville. Neville Longbottom. The other day?"

She nodded, "Yeah, he's not too bad for a beginner."

Harry nodded, "He's- he's the one that..."

Alicia frowned, "I'm not a slag, Potter, that you can just ask to shag all your friends."

He spluttered, "N- No, I- that's not what I-"

"I mean, I will," she clarified, holding up a hand, "But I want something out of it, too."

He blinked. "Uh... what?"

"Money," the girl shrugged, "That's the usual thing. Sure, maybe it's prostitution, but that's
not illegal in our world. Gets me what I want- a good time and some spending cash. My
parents aren't wealthy, and any Quidditch team member can afford to be picky about who
they spend time with. There's other things I'd take, though."

This whole conversation had gone so sideways, so off-the-rails, so quickly that Harry was
having trouble keeping up. "Er... like- like what?"

"Gifts," she shrugged, "New clothes, a bit of jewelry- nothing too fancy- things girls like.
Neville's a decent bloke, right?"

Harry nodded, able to answer that firmly, at least, "Yeah, really good bloke. Just... shy."

Alicia gave him a faint smile, "Good blokes are fine, shy blokes are fine. I can help him with
that. It's... well, normally I'd charge extra- they tend to take a little longer just to get started-
but we're friends, so I'll give you a discount, instead. Ten galleons for an evening, say two or
three rounds, if he can go that long. Normally I'd charge fifteen."

He blinked again, still trying to catch up. "W- Wait," he waved a hand, shaking his head to
clear it of errant thoughts, "You're- you, Alicia Spinnet, Gryffindor Chaser, are an actual
prostitute? And you want me to pay you to shag my friend?"

Wondering what the hell was going on, Harry could think of nothing else to ask. It just
didn't... it didn't make sense, with all he knew about Alicia, or girls in general. Especially not
in school!

"Well," she conceded, "Not officially. I mean, I'm not registered in Knockturn Alley, or
anything, but I've shagged a few times for money, yeah. I like sex. Your friend Ron was a
freebie because he's cute, and I owed his brothers one."

"Er... just... just out of curiosity," he found himself asking, "What- what would you charge for
me?"

"You?"

He nodded.

"Not a thing. You're cute, too, and a damned good flyer. I owe you, I figure, for so many wins
in Quidditch."

He blinked.

"Why, you randy?"

Before he could even properly process the question, the honest reply came bubbling up,
"Always."

"Sweet. Me, too."

Then she stood up, crawled underneath the table, and, while there, cast a few locking charms
of her own at the door, past him. Then, apparently, she shucked her outer robe and opened her
blouse half-way down while working her way on hands and knees toward him.

He was still trying to figure out what was going on, what her intentions were, when her
mouth sank over his shaft, taking him all in one go.

Unbidden, Harry's hands fell to her head, holding her down while his hips twitched upward a
bit. She swallowed, gagged, swallowed again, but didn't try to pull off for several seconds,
her tongue laving back and forth across the underside of his cock near the base.

He even held her down for a moment after she tried to back off, though he let her go on the
second tug. There was a loud squelching, slurping sound as he popped out of the older girl's
mouth. She looked up from beneath the table at him, smiling, "Fuck, Potter, you've got a big
dick. I didn't think I could take it all, much less hold it that long. Couldn't even breathe!"
He grinned sheepishly, "Yeah... I wasn't really coming here to shag, but... if you're up for it?"

"I said I was," she smiled back, then dove down again, once more hitting his base, before
pulling back to the halfway mark and beginning to bob, one hand working his balls through
his trousers, the other pumping the rest of his shaft.

She continued blowing him for more than a minute, then without warning, pulled off and
came out from under the table. After another charm- a silencing one- at the door, she hopped
up onto the table and laid back, spreading her legs, to reveal her knickers were already
around one ankle, and her skirt free.

For a moment, he hesitated, then shrugged. Lilith had said he was disease-immune,
effectively, due to one of the Runes she'd given him, and Alicia was very willing, so... He
didn't climb up onto the table, but instead hitched his elbows behind the girl's knees and
pulled her to the edge, then stepped between her to the edge himself. "You on the Potion?"

She nodded, "Duh, yeah. You can do it inside, Potter. Special deal for you, still free. If I do
have a kid, he's mine and mine alone, and no one knows he's yours- including you."

Harry swallowed, then, lining himself up with one hand, pushed inside, the other moving up
to cup one of Alicia's breasts.

She was definitely, he decided, looser than most of the girls he'd been with, only Marietta
was even close, but it was still almost indescribable feeling her warm wetness clasp around
him while he moved with varying speed and intensity.

With the warmup of her mouth earlier, it only took Harry about five minutes to orgasm,
pumping himself deep inside the older girl while she moaned. But, with the Stamina Rune in
full effect, he never even flagged, continuing to hammer on, glad of the silencing charm,
because she was starting to moan with every thrust, and the table had developed a squeak.

Alicia didn't even seem aware he'd orgasmed, her own eyes were already rolling back in her
head, and she panted with every thrust.

Slutty girl or not, she was clearly not used to someone with an erection as large as Harry's,
and lacked a fair bit of stamina herself.

He leaned down over her, pulling on one nipple with his teeth briefly, then moved up to
whisper into her ear, "If you pass out, I'll make it look like you fell asleep reading."

"F- Fuuuuuuck," she moaned, climaxing for at least the second time, then proceeded to do
just that. The extra vibrations in her cunt forced another orgasm from Harry, though he
continued to pound away relentlessly for a few more minutes, emptying himself for a third
time in the girl's snatch.

Once he, still half-erect, pulled free, he thought, hard, "Lilith? Done with Ron for a bit? I
need some clean-up."
The response was immediate, "I'll be right there, Master. He's asleep for now... said he
wanted a quick nap."

Within thirty seconds, he could hear the sound of her whirring wings as the invisible creature
appeared in the room. "What would you like, Master?"

With a gesture, proud of his handiwork, Harry pointed at the older girl, "I want to watch you
clean her up, then I want to fuck you, too. She didn't satisfy me enough."

Lilith smiled widely, eyes glinting, "With pleasure, Master!"

The Succubus didn't take her time, immediately getting on her knees, wearing the older form
Ron preferred, then leaned in to first smell, then take a long, deep lick up the human girl's slit
before spreading it open with one hand.

The sight quickly made the half-erect dick Harry sported come to full mast, and he, only half-
consciously, stepped back toward the Succubus, who, with a glance and a wink, lifted a hand
to start wanking him off slowly, never slowing her oral cleaning of Alicia.

The teenaged girl clearly had another mind-shaking orgasm half-way through, and a fifth,
before Lilith finally pronounced, "She's as clean as I can make her, Master."

But, contrary to his express wishes, Lilith did not pounce on his cock herself. Instead, she
turned, opening her mouth, to let at least a tablespoon of his seed combined with Alicia's
juices dribble from her mouth onto his erection, then dove onto it with her mouth, too,
working the concoction back and forth.

Harry let her for a bit, enjoying the idea and the sight, before suddenly lifting the figure by
the shoulders and setting her down on the table next to Alicia, before pushing into her naked
hole. "You didn't listen," he murmured into her mouth, one hand at her hips, the other around
her throat, though gently, "so you need to be punished. But I can't decide how to do it. You
tell me what's a fair punishment, pet."

Harry didn't really know what had come over him, aside from the enjoyment of control he'd
had when using Pansy- and apparently convincing her to break up with Draco- but the feeling
was similar, and he did definitely enjoy it.

Lilith whimpered, clearly enjoying the game even as she started to writhe on his cock, "M-
Master... not having you... is the worst... torture..."

At once, he pulled out, though it took him supreme effort. "Fine. You can lay there, not
touching yourself, while I fuck her, instead."

With another whimper, Lilith lay back fully on the table next to Alicia, hands set carefully at
her sides, legs spread as if to tempt him in, and watched while he slid sideways back to the
unconscious girl and pushed back into her still-sopping channel. "You got her really wet,
pet," he whispered, looking down at the forlorn-looking Succubus, "thanks for that. Your
punishment still stands.... though you can lick her again when I'm done."
Lilith did not protest, though she did seem to almost have a tear in her eye when she nodded.

Harry continued to stare sternly either at Lilith, or happily at the way Alicia's bare chest
bounced with every thrust, until, for the sixth time, he spent himself inside the girl, who
moaned even while unconscious, having another orgasm of her own.

Once he pulled away, Harry ordered, "Clean me, quickly, then clean her, quickly. You don't
get to enjoy it."

Obediently, Lilith hastened to obey, not meeting Harry's eyes.

Once both of their genitalia were clean, Harry used his wand to re-dress the girl and levitate
her back into her chair, though he kept the knickers for himself, and used one hand to spread
the girl's legs- a particularly short person coming into the room, like a first-year, might see
her open crotch, but no one else would.

Harry exhaled, once done, and turned toward Lilith, who stood silently in the corner with her
eyes closed, a neutral expression on her face.

Suddenly, he felt terrible.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I... I didn't mean it to be mean, I just thought... you know, like a
game."

Slowly, Lilith nodded, and opened her eyes, though she was looking away and did not face
him.

He sighed, then moved over to the Succubus and pulled her into a hug, one which she did not
respond to. "No, really," he said quietly, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm not even sure what I
did."

She sniffled, then, finally, let her arms come around his waist. He was still somewhat
surprised to feel real wetness against his shirt, though he wasn't shocked to hear the hitch in
Lilith's voice when she eventually spoke, "Y- You denied me... you denied what I am.
That's... that's saying you want me to go home, Master. Saying... saying my service isn't good
enough."

He pulled away at once to look into her tear-filled eyes. She seemed not just upset, suddenly,
but crushed.

"I... I'm so sorry," he murmured, pulling her back in, "I didn't mean it that way. I really,
sincerely, thought it was just... a control game. You know, like... for sex. I'll never turn you
down if you want it, too, you know."

She sniffled, "We'd never leave your bed, and you'd starve."

He grinned, "It would be worth it, Lilith."

She slapped his back lightly, "No it wouldn't Master. Even sex isn't that good. I like you
alive. And... and I'm hungry."
"Eating several loads from Alicia, plus Ron earlier, didn't satisfy you?"

Lilith shook her head, "Others can't, Master. You can. I can feel good with them, I can even
climax, but remember, aside from pleasure, all I get from others is material to take home.
From you, I get sustenance, and pleasure, and material."

Still holding her close, he asked, "What, exactly, do you mean by 'sustenance'?"

She swallowed, he could feel it against his chest, then whispered, "I can show you... but can I
do it later, after the year gets out? When it's more private? It's... personal. Kind of."

"Sure," he said, more out of guilt for earlier than anything else. "And... you know I won't do
that again, right? If I ever- ever- ask you about punishment, it's for fun, not to hurt you. So
that's not... that's not what I want."

"I know, Master. That's..." she hiccupped, "That's why I'm still here, and didn't just... leave. I
know you didn't mean it. It still hurt."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"It's... you owe me, Master, two mind-shattering orgasms of my own before the year ends. I
know you're busy, though, so on your time, otherwise. That's your apology."

"And it'll happen," Harry agreed at once.

"Good." Then she smiled, pulling away and clearly feeling much more cheerful, though her
eyes still glistened, "Let me go with you to talk to your Hufflepuff friends. Don't worry, I
won't Fog them unless you want me to. I just want to... get to know them. I won't be visible
or talk. Then I think I'll go wake up Ronald again... I need some more fun, it's been stressful
for me, too."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry said, leaned down to kiss her even while the Succubus faded
completely from view, then left the room after glancing around to make sure things were
more or less normal-looking.

Aside from the chairs that had been moved and Alicia's face being buried in her book, all was
well. Even the smell had largely dissipated due to Lilith's work.

He was a bit shocked to learn it was already lunchtime, though... he'd been shagging Alicia
longer than he thought!

Harry found Susan and Hannah a few minutes later, between the Library and Great Hall, on
their way to the former, if he had to guess, since they were talking about studying as he
approached. Falling into step beside them, on Susan's right, he cleared his throat quietly,
"Ahem, um... excuse me, Hannah? Susan? I was..."

Both, at once, turned to look at him, though neither slowed their pace, while he blushed.
This was not as easy as he'd made it sound to Neville, or even himself. He was still rubbish at
actually talking to girls!

"Erm... s- sorry," he muttered, shaking his head, "I just... wanted a word with you two, if you
don't mind?"

"Sure, Harry," Hannah replied easily, shrugging, "We were just heading to the Library to get
an early start on Potions review. I'd hate to disappoint Healer Tonks, since, you know, she
actually teaches us things."

He grinned wryly, "I... yeah, I should probably do that, too, but... can I have just a few
minutes in private, though? With both of you."

The girls both shared a look and a faint smile between them, both turning a bit pink, as well.
It was, to his surprise, the quieter Susan Bones who answered, "Sure, Harry... did you have
any place in particular?"

He shook his head, then cast a glance up and down the busy corridor. "Uh, not- not really, no.
Any classroom would do, I s'pose, as long as it's empty."

Hannah sniffed, pointing to one at the end of the corridor, or technically in the next hall,
"There's a lot of study groups going on, we should probably just start opening doors until we
find one."

So they did, and a good thing, because it took no fewer than fifteen doors before they found
one, surprisingly close to the Library that was unoccupied, though it had several open books
on one of the large desks. "I guess this will work," Harry said, "if someone comes back, we
can move, but I don't think it'll take long. I just... wanted to talk about something."

Hannah leaned next to the door as he paced into the room, while Susan stood in front of it.
Neither, as far as he could tell, expected an attack of some sort- they were in the D.A., and
should know him better than that- but he was happy to yield the 'tactical advantage' since he
didn't want to appear threatening. Though he would hesitate to go up against the pair of them,
having seen exactly what they could do in the D.A.

Hannah was a vicious fighter, holding nothing back. He'd asked her about it quietly during
one session, and all she'd said was, "For my brother."

That was enough for him to surmise the worst.

And Susan, while socially a bit awkward, or at least quiet, was not the niece of the Head of
the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for nothing. If there was any Hufflepuff he'd
want at his back in a wand-fight, it was her. Not because she was an amazing dueler- though
she wasn't bad- but because she knew a lot about Defense, largely because of her aunt's work,
he was sure.

But that wasn't why he'd asked to talk to them, so he put the idle thoughts from his mind.
"So... I'm going to be fairly direct, if that's alright, in the interests of time. If I offend you in
any way, I'm sorry. Is- is that alright?"
The girls shared another look, but this time it was Hannah who nodded, gesturing him on
with a wave of her hand, "Go on, Harry. We're not going to bite your head off."

He grimaced, then swallowed. "Look, you two know Neville, right? Neville Longbottom, in
our year?"

Both girls grinned, nodding, and Harry was a bit relieved to see Hannah go a little pink in the
face. She nodded, "Y- Yeah... we know him."

"Well, he's a good bloke, yeah?"

"We know he is," Susan said softly.

He swallowed. This really wasn't easy, direct or not! "Erm... he... fancies one of you. Maybe
both of you. And, well, he's a good friend of mine, so I thought..."

"You'd try and be all subtle, asking for him?"

"Er... sort of," he conceded, "but-"

Hannah actually laughed, interrupting him, "You're kind of rubbish at the whole wing-man
thing, Potter. Look- you have to be more indirect, if you want to do it the 'classical' way. You
know, ask one of our other friends, like Ernie, to ask Susan to ask me, or ask me to ask Susan,
if we like him back, or something. That's how it's usually done, yeah? At least, if we were
third-years. Which we aren't."

"Er... I know that," he said, thoroughly confused by the topic shift.

"And," Hannah continued as if he hadn't spoken at all, "since we're actually fifth-years, we-
Susan and I, and I like to think most of the girls in our year- are getting closer to being
women than girls, if you get my meaning."

"Er..."

Her hazel eyes rolled as she lurched somewhat gracelessly away from the wall to pace
between him and Susan, "Look, I know you're a bit socially inept, so let me give you a few
tips. One, it's okay for you to like a girl. You don't have to say it's Neville. If you like one of
us, you can just come out and say it."

"Er, I- but Neville's-"

"Of course, I understand that can be hard for a boy- believe me, some girls find it hard, too-"
she pushed on, glancing significantly in Susan's direction, "but really, honesty is the best
policy, don't you think? Just come out and say it. You did say you were going to be direct,
right?"

Harry drew in a breath to correct her again, but Hannah seemed to still be warming up.
Fortunately, a hand from Susan on her arm got the blonde to stop mid-sentence and look to
her, then follow her eyes to Harry. She blushed, looking away, "S- Sorry. I got on a bit of a
tangent there, yeah? Er... sorry, go ahead."
Then she sat primly on the nearest desk and clasped her hands there, smiling politely up at
him in an almost Dumbledore-esque way, eyes glinting.

"Er," he began again, swallowing, "No, really, it is Neville who fancies one of you. I, er... I
think you're both very attractive young women, and I think you're both good people and
decent friends, but I... it's Neville, really, that we're having this conversation for."

"It's okay to say you like boys, Harry," Hannah said softly, expression solemn as she switched
tacts, "we won't judge- after all, we do, too."

He turned bright red, could feel the heat pulsing in his cheeks, "No, why does everyone
always think that? No! I like girls just fine, thanks! I'm just trying to get Neville into bed with
the girl he likes, alright?"

Both girls leaned back as if they'd been slapped.

Susan recovered first, though it was only to turn as deep a red as he must have been, nearly as
dark a shade as her hair. Hannah, on the other hand, gaped like a (cute) fish for a few
seconds, gulped herself, then looked down at the desk. When she spoke, it was so quiet Harry
could barely hear it over his angry breathing. "Er... sorry. I don't think you're gay, Harry, I
just... wondered."

"Don't blame her," Susan said, voice apologetic, "I... there's a group of girls in Hufflepuff
who dream about boys and... other boys. It's weird, I know, but there was a rumor going for a
bit last year about you and Weasley, so..."

Harry gagged briefly, unable to help himself. Did... "Did people really... think that? I mean,
Ron's my best mate, but..."

Hannah shrugged faintly, "Er... not really, I don't think, but you have to admit your record
with witches is... lacking."

He snorted internally, muttering quietly enough he hoped they couldn't hear, "Not so much,
lately," then threw himself down onto the teacher's desk and crossed his arms, "So.... yeah.
Back on subject, if we could. Er, no, wait, let's get this cleared up right now. No, I'm not
interested in blokes. And you can tell anyone who brings it up that I told you so, in person.
Now we can get back on subject, please."

"N- Neville?" Susan asked, eyes lowered, and a bit pink still in the face.

Harry nodded firmly, "Yes, Neville. He fancies one or both of you. Yes, I know who if not
both. My question is- would you be interested in him?"

Hannah nodded at once, Susan a bit slower and only once. She was the first to speak, though,
"If... if he didn't want Hannah, I... might have a go. He's a bit timid for- for me, but... he's c-
cute."

"Not as timid lately though," Hannah beat Harry to saying it, "I mean, have you seen him
practicing in the D.A. lately? He's got some fire now, ever since Lestrange..."
Harry nodded, "Exactly. So... you both said yes. Next question- I have one more after. If..."

He ran his hand over his face, "I... Neville's feeling... pent up, lately. Stressed. I'm sure you
can guess why."

"Most of the year are," Hannah pouted, then looked at Harry a bit quizzically, "In fact, I think
only you, Hermione, and Weasley aren't that... bad. Well, more you and Weasley. What's
going on, Potter?"

He swallowed, thought to his companion, If any time, now's it, but hold off... "We've... found
a way to pass time and relax at the same time. A... hobby."

"Gobstones?" Hannah snorted, rolling her eyes.

"No, he's talking about sex," Susan whispered, her eyes watching him closely.

Hannah gaped.

Harry gulped.

"Er..."

"You were," Hannah laughed after a moment, "You totally were! Wow, Potter- didn't know
you had it in you! Who've you been shagging? No, wait, don't tell us... we'll figure it out."

"Not Lavender or Parvati, if that's what you're implying," he grumbled, "but... yes. We have.
And yes, all three of us, and no, not- not together."

One little half-truth in there with the rest won't hurt, right...?

They sat in silence for a moment, absorbing that information, before he worked up the nerve
to really explain, "Here's my proposal. I can help you both out- arranging something. A time,
a place, in the next week- probably even this weekend- for the one of you and Neville to, er,
hook up. I think that's the muggle phrase these days. If you're interested."

Neither said anything, though Hannah's highly amused chortles cut off immediately, and both
their gazes returned to stare pointedly at him.

"Uh... Neville, though, isn't- he doesn't want a quick thing. He wants a relationship, maybe
moving a bit fast, uh, ph- physically, but... something that will last. He's apparently had this
crush for a long time."

Hannah's eyes narrowed, "It's me, isn't it? The one he fancies?"

Harry swallowed, then nodded.

She watched him silently, then nodded herself. "Alright- if it's him. Only him. I'm not a slag,
but I'm not saying the thought hasn't crossed my mind. And no promises it'll be sex, either! I
just... I wouldn't mind spending some time with him in private, seeing where it goes."
"Sounds very fair," Harry agreed at once, knowing that, if nothing else, a bit of the Fog of
Lust would encourage that sort of behavior.

Susan, though, frowned. "What's the cost, though? I mean, I know-"

She faltered when she noticed both Hannah and Harry were looking at her, "I- I mean, I
know- Neville's- he's a good guy. I know you're friends. But what do you get out of this, P-
Harry?"

He pretended nonchalance, though his body was already telling him to be anything but, and
shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't expect anything. I... I want something, but I don't expect it. I
expect to be laughed out of the room, actually, which... which is why I wanted to seal
Neville's end, first."

Hannah looked back and forth between her best friend and Harry for several seconds, then
gaped before anyone said anything, pointing between them quickly, first Harry, then Susan.

"You," he eventually said, moving his hand, palm up, in the red-head's direction, then letting
it fall. "You're very cute- I wasn't lying when I said you were both very attractive- and,
frankly, I'm randy all the time. That's what I want. Again, I don't expect anything."

Susan, though, did not immediately start laughing, or flee. Instead, she gulped, then, crimson-
faced, looked up into his face for the first time since entering the room, "And- wh- what
would I get... out of that deal, P- Harry?"

In all solemness, he answered quietly, "An amazing shag, if nothing else. I... wouldn't mind
repeating it later, I think, if you want to."

"Bit full of yourself, yeah? You're what, Potter, fifteen? Sixteen, tops?"

Harry looked toward Hannah as she spoke, then back to Susan. "I'm fifteen still. But yes. Er...
I can't offer proof, not without getting in trouble, but... there are some people I could name,
that I won't, who would vouch for it. I'm not saying it for nothing."

Then he held up his hand, the scars from his last detention with Umbridge- surprisingly
almost three weeks ago, now- still plainly visible as thin, white lines. I must not tell lies.

Hannah snorted, clearly the more sceptical, "You don't get to use that excuse for everything,
Harry. Everyone lies, even me. Merlin, even Susan lies once in a while."

He shrugged, "Still. I can promise you'll enjoy it, if you say yes. But if you don't want to,
that's fine. I... do have other options."

"A conquest on your bedpost then, Potter?"

That question from Hannah made Harry frown, but... "A- After a fashion, I suppose, but...
look, I'm not a bad guy, here. I happen to think sex is great, and I want to have sex with
Susan, or even y- er..."

"Me, too?" Hannah said, rolling her eyes, "Bit needy?"

He shrugged, forcing his back to straighten to his full height, "Yes. You're very pretty too,
okay? I'm fifteen. Seems like I want to shag everything that moves, sometimes. But I'm not
saying you aren't very pretty- both of you are. It just- makes me want it more. A lot more.

"A- Anyway, again, I'm not a bad guy. If she says no, then no harm done. I haven't told you
names, so I wouldn't go about bragging yours, either, if you say yes or no. That goes for you
and Neville, too, Hannah."

"So... what, then? You just shag and go on about your school year?"

"If that's what Susan wants," Harry agreed, "but as I've said, I'm willing to keep... keep doing
it, so to speak. I'm... not ready for a social relationship, but I do enjoy a physical relationship.
Again, if she-"

Then he turned his focus to the person he should have been talking to from the beginning, "If
you don't want to, say no. That'll be the end of it. If you say yes, I'll also arrange a time and
place- or you can, if it's secure and we won't be disturbed. It's entirely up to you, just as
Hannah's is with Neville. Neither of us would ever force the issue, so to speak."

"I don't know," Hannah threw up her arms to shoulder-height, shaking her head, "I mean, I do
like Neville, and I do want to go out with him, but that shouldn't mean you get to shag Susan.
That's just-"

"No, sorry," Harry interrupted, shaking his head, "Sorry if I didn't make it clear- you dating
Neville in any capacity and any relationship I may or may not have with Susan are entirely
different, and not at all related. You go enjoy your time with Neville, when it happens. It
won't affect me or Susan, unless she tells you about it later. I certainly won't."

Hannah sighed, shaking her head, "Sounds too good to be true, which means it probably is.
But I do trust Neville, and I mostly trust you, if only because you've been honest, as far as I
can tell. And- the D.A. too, I guess. But I... I'm in. How will you get a message to me with
the time and place?"

Harry smiled, "You leave that to me. You'll know when you get it."

Then he turned to Susan as Hannah stood, "You don't have to decide now, either, Susan. I'm
just... making my wants known. You don't have to feel any pressure to even answer me, ever.
But my- er- I guess my bed, but not literally my bed- is open, unless I'm dead or something."

"Er, th- thanks, I think," the red-head mumbled, then held the door for Hannah as she reached
it.

A moment later, both were gone.

Once the door had shut behind the retreating, madly-giggling girls, Lilith faded into view,
both hands over her own mouth to stifle what was obviously laughter. She even had tears,
once again, in her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he muttered, starting to walk toward the door himself, "You try
growing up in a cupboard, and learning social skills."

Lilith, though, showed no sympathy. After the way he'd inadvertently hurt her not an hour
previously, he couldn't say he blamed her.
 Crawling Into the Snake Pit
Chapter Summary

Actions have consequences. The 'prank' Harry played on Malfoy and many other
Slytherins, Pansy Parkinson in particular, have consequences Harry would never have
expected. In some ways, they are worse than he could have imagined. In others... well...
Having ones world-view upended in a brutal way may be harsh, but it can have
surprising results, too. Unfortunately dealing with that in the short term is rarely easy.
Thus, two Slytherins ask for Harry's help to save their friend, who they fear might just
be lost forever.
Those actions, too, have consequences. Both far-reaching and broad, deeper than any of
them could have foreseen.

I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories feature:
violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains in my
stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of the
time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write.
Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death-
including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real
life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction
fairly without including them.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 11: Crawling into the Snake Pit

With nothing better to do for the time being, Harry followed the Hufflepuffs, a few minutes
later to the Library to get in some studying. He passed the table where the two girls had
joined their friends, each flushing as he walked past though neither giggled or whispered that
he could hear, and slowly walked past the door he'd left Alicia in.
He smiled when he heard Neville's voice speaking in hushed tones. As long as they
remembered to lock the door...

He had just sat down at one of the tables with a school copy of The Potioneer's Path, a book
recommended by Healer Tonks in their last class, at the tiny unused corner of the table Ernie
Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, and a few other Hufflepuffs were claiming. They did not look
up when he greeted them, only Ernie made a noncommittal, "Hmm," sound, before re-
focusing on his study.

Opening the book, Harry looked at the introduction, when the page itself was obscured by a
scrap of yellow parchment. The handwriting on it was neat and crisp, right-slanted, and if he
were any judge, feminine.

Meet me by the statue outside the Great Hall from before. 5 minutes.

Harry faked a sigh, just in case Ernie or the others really had registered his presence, and
closed the book on the parchment. "I'm... this is too loud. I'll go read in my room."

Indeed, Madam Pince seemed to have given up on keeping the library quiet for the moment,
as there were more than thirty students inside the room, most crammed onto the study tables.

Again, Ernie made a soft grunting noise, but did not look up.

He smiled, unsure where the parchment had come from. He had not felt anyone walk by, but
had seen the scrap falling before it landed. Of course, magic was a mysterious and powerful
thing, and every first year learned the levitation charm.

The possibility of the whole thing being a trap was there, of course, but with the second half
of the Ancient Runes exam going on, he wouldn't pick the location, since any shouting would
certainly alert not just teachers, but the proctors and examiners, as well.

He had to fight his way through a small crowd of students once again, though there were
many fewer for the elective than there had been for Defense Against the Dark Arts, the last
time he'd spoken to anyone by the statue.

Of course, Harry grinned at the memory. Daphne Greengrass was, he felt, entirely too much
fun to needle while talking, if only for her haughty attitude.

Indeed, it was the statuesque blonde, standing behind the statue rather than sitting on the
base, when he arrived, adjusting his tie since a stray arm had caught him on the way through
the crowd and pulled it out of alignment. "Greengrass," he said quietly, leaning on the wall
next to her but a few feet away, lest anyone assume they were actually talking to each other.

"Potter," she murmured, lips barely moving, both their eyes scanning the crowd of slowly-
milling or chatting students, "I don't have long- my name'll be called soon for the practical.
There's a problem in the Slytherin dorms."

He blinked, "And... okay, what do you want me to do about it?"

From the corner of her eyes, he saw Daphne send him a quick glare, then leave the wall to
spin around in the little alcove and sit back on the statue so she could face him directly.
Whether it was for that purpose alone, or to hide her lips from anyone trying to read them, he
couldn't say, but he didn't mind- she was quite pretty when she was talking. Or otherwise.

And watching her while she spoke was only polite, right? As long as he didn't stare?

"It's Pansy," Daphne hissed, "She won't shut up about how she's ruined her life, and it's
distracting all of us. Since I blame you for whatever she did- or whoever she did- you get to
fix it."

"And how do you propose that I do that, if I even caused the problem in the first place?
Seems to me you're making a lot of assumptions."

"I'm not," Daphne said firmly, "You basically admitted it, remember? I'm not an idiot, Potter.
Spare me having to explain how I figured it out, it's obvious, at least to me. You created the
problem, you fix it."

"Fine, say I did," he said a little angrily, "What do you want me to do about it? I can't get into
the Slytherin's common room, for one, and I doubt I can get into the girls' dorms."

"Tracey can get you in. I'll send her a message. The- the dorms aren't a problem. I don't know
how they do things in Gryffindor Tower, but fifth-year and up are allowed to- to socialize
across gender lines in our dorms, as long as we're discrete. Just don't go into a younger year's
dorm, that will get you in a lot of trouble, even with Snape gone."

Harry frowned. "What? You can- that's not fair."

She shrugged, "It's part of Slytherin culture, Potter. Sex is a commodity to many Slytherins.
Favors, too. No, until you, I hadn't with any boy- and I haven't after, either. Look, this isn't
the point. We need you- all us fifth year girls- to do something, anything, about Pansy. She's
driving us batty. Just... talk to her, or something. Hell, shag her again. I don't care, just don't
make us keep listening to her constant whinging!"

"This is so not how I thought my day would go," he muttered, half-amused by Daphne's very
undignified snort.

"So? You'll do it?"

Reluctantly, he nodded, trusting in his Cloak and his own skills to get him out of trouble if
this did, in fact, turn out to be a trap. "Yeah, fine... when?"

"She doesn't have Runes, so she's probably in her dorm, weeping again. Tracey can get you in
and show you the one. Once you're in there with her, I'd silence her first, so she doesn't
scream, then... do whatever you have to do. Um... maybe don't kill her. If she keeps this up
until tomorrow, I'll contemplate that."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah. Um... when?"

"Now," Daphne said urgently, "They just called Goldstein, in Ravenclaw. I'm next." She
reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a small parchment airplane in a light rose
color, which quickly unfolded itself into her hand, then took flight.

"That's the message to Tracey. She'll be ready. Go, Potter. And- and I'll owe you one."

Then she was gone, leaving him slightly dumbfounded.

Girls were so confusing- first Hannah, now Daphne. What was going on?

With only a small bit of reluctance, Harry headed down toward the Slytherin common room
entrance, which he and Ron had discovered (or been shown by Penelope Clearwater, a
Ravenclaw Prefect at the time, while they had been disguised as Crabbe and Goyle through
the use of Polyjuice Potion) in their second year.

He waited outside the same empty stretch of corridor, devoid of portrait or door, where he
and Ron had gained entrance three years previously.

Nothing.

A few students occasionally passed the distant doorway up the long flight of stairs that led up
to the Entrance Hall, making the dim light in the corridor almost blink out occasionally, but
nothing was happening in the chamber he knew to be hidden within the wall opposite where
he leaned.

Harry frowned, glancing back and forth again, then pushed himself off the wall and started
heading back toward the stairs.

Just as the light winked out above him.

A pair of footsteps were jogging at a speed only brought about by long familiarity, down the
steep, narrow stone steps. He backed up at once into the corner past the stairs and made sure
the Invisibility Cloak covered him completely.

The pale-skinned, petite girl Harry most often saw eating meals with Daphne, long, wavy
dark hair swishing behind her as she turned her head side to side, having paused just past the
bottom of the stairs. She was less than a foot from him.

"Potter?" she hissed after a moment, voice low and soft, almost musical, but so quiet he
barely heard it. "Potter, are you there? I'm Tracey Davis. Are- are you there? This is really
weird... talking to someone I'm not even sure is..."

Unable to resist the temptation, Harry prodded her shoulder with one finger, then whispered
from right next to her ear, "I'm here."

The resulting scream was cut off quickly by both of the girl's hands, but her jump, landing in
a wide-legged stance, caused her to stamp on one of his feet. "Ow," he hissed, yanking his
foot from beneath hers, "I guess that's payback, though I wasn't really trying to scare you-
you just didn't know I was that close when you stopped."
Suddenly breathing heavily, the tiny girl whirled to face the apparently empty corner where
he still stood, one accusing finger pointing vaguely in his direction, "P- Please do not do that
again, Potter," she hissed, "Or it'll be the last thing you do. I've half a mind to-"

She cut off as the jabbing finger made contact with his chest. Then, looking at her hand in the
dim light for a moment, she prodded again. "You... you have an invisibility cloak?"

He nodded, then, remembering she couldn't have seen, whispered, "Yeah, and?"

"Nothing," she whispered, "Nothing. Are you here to help us with Pansy?"

"Apparently," he said nonchalantly, fighting down the sudden urge to lean forward and press
his lips- or the Cloak- against hers. He wasn't even sure why, really, though he did find the
girl attractive.

The smell, he determined after fighting the urge down a bit, It's the smell. She smells almost
like Hermione, but mixed with... jasmine, maybe, and lilacs. Yeah, that's it.

With a shake of his head, Harry slipped between the still-pointing girl and the wall, "We
going in? I'll need directions to the dorm, too."

"Right," she murmured, following him, the once-pointing finger now extended before her to
make sure she wouldn't walk into him, "The arch that leads into the girls' dorms is on the far
right, so as soon as we get inside, you make the hardest right you can and follow the wall.
Don't walk into anyone."

"I've been using the Cloak for a while, Miss Davis," he whispered as they reached the
particular blank spot, the floor marred, now that he actually looked, by thousands and
thousands of steps walking into what appeared to be solid stone kind of giving it away.

"Very well," she continued hissing, "The password is changing tonight at midnight, that's why
Daphne and I chose tonight for you to come in, so you're going to be barred after tonight,
obviously. Once you get through the arch- which arch?"

"Farthest right."

"Yes. Once there, you'll go to the fifth hall on the right, and turn in. Me and Daphne- you
know what, no. Pansy got the lucky room, she has the room at the end of the hall on the right.
You'll be out by midnight, right?"

"Long before," Harry grumbled, "I'm hoping I don't have to do more than talk to her for a few
minutes. We aren't exactly friends."

"You too, huh?"

It was the most normal, least-tense thing he'd heard Davis say.

Even saying the password, "Prima Sui," was given with a certain amount of tension in her
voice. "I'm going in, ignore what I say and do."
Then she stepped in, following just a moment behind, slipping in before the door closed.

Distantly, he was aware of Davis being called by one of the male Slytherins at a study table
on the far side of the long, low, dark-walled room, near the massive window that looked out
into the mid-depths of the lake, and her heading in that direction.

Somehow, though, he felt safer now, inside the snake-pit, as Gryffindors called it, than he had
out in the hall. Though if this were a trap or an ambush, this would be a better place.

Something about Tracey and Daphne's tones, even their word choices, suggested to the young
man that this was, in fact, exactly what they said it was: a plea for help.

So he did as Tracey had instructed, slowly moving through the crowd of students, many just
out of the day's study or during a free period, and skirting the unlit, smaller fireplace that
graced the middle of the longer wall beneath several medieval portraits of Slytherins, many
of them so famous even Harry recognized them at a glance without looking at the plaques or
name-plates beneath each.

Through the arch, the noise and bustle of more than two dozen chattering, arguing, playing,
or otherwise engaged students cut off suddenly, as if there had been a barrier of silence that
he'd walked through.

The corridor was deathly quiet, aside from Harry's own sound, tense, controlled breaths, and
the rustle of the Cloak against his clothes, the tentative rap as his first footfall hit the solid
marble floor.

Walking as quietly as possible, rolling his feet to hide the sound further, Harry walked along,
sending a quick glance down each hallway as he went, careful to avoid the edges of the
carpet that lined each off-shoot, since placards on the walls he passed designated, "First-
years, Wing A," and so on, all the way up to...

"Fifth year, Wing B. This should be it," Harry whispered to himself, glancing down at the
carpet.

Instead of the deep, emerald green the last four hallways on each side had, this one was bright
silver, almost white in the dim, faintly green light of the magically-burning torches.
Tentatively, he took a single step onto the carpet.

Nothing happened.

Slowly exhaling in relief, Harry paced, just as carefully as before, down to the very last door
on the right. There, an elegant script, almost calligraphy, really, read, "Pansy's Room," in
silver writing on some kind of dark wood, which appeared to have been hung by Pansy
herself with a sticking charm- there was no visible fastening, and no other room had a
designator like it.

He knocked tentatively with the back of his hand.

No response.
Glancing down the hall, seeing and hearing it just as empty as it had been since he'd entered
the dorms, Harry, hand covered by the Cloak, gripped the knob and turned.

Of course, it was locked. Harry frowned, then pushed the end of his wand, just the very tip,
past the cloak and whispered, "Alohomora."

It clicked, and the door swung open three inches.

No reaction that he could hear from inside.

Carefully, wand out and pointing forward from inside his father's Cloak, Harry pushed it open
slowly, prepared to jump out of the way of any incoming spell.

Again, nothing.

The dorm itself, he was surprised to see, was thoroughly normal.

Two beds, one clearly in use- it was unmade- and one piled high with books, one in each of
the farther corners, two wardrobes in the nearer ones, a dresser and a desk between them, and
an empty space between them in the middle of the room. The only other feature, aside from a
few posters, some Quidditch, and one of the Weird Sisters Harry had been introduced to at
the Yule Ball the previous year, and one of... "Florence Nightingale"?

Every Brit, so far as he knew, knew that woman's portrait. Harry had even seen this particular
one before, because it graced a history book he'd had in primary school, discussing famous
British women throughout history.

But why would Pansy Parkinson, of all people, have a picture of her on the wall?

The only other feature he could see, aside from the standard school trunk at the foot of
Pansy's bed, was a partially-ajar door between the two beds, opposite the one he'd entered
from.

He slid the door behind him closed quietly, knob turned so it wouldn't click, then crept
inward.

There was a... slight hissing, almost like a fan was blowing air, coming from beyond, and the
faintest of breezes.

And crying, he could definitely hear that, too, though it was faint and almost muffled
completely.

Slowly, he pushed the door open a bit more, stepping inside.

What he saw made him stop in his tracks.

Pansy Parkinson, yes.

But naked, covered only by thin mist and steam from a hot shower, obscured a tiny bit further
by glazed glass around the shower.
She was not cleaning herself, though, Harry could plainly see, and in fact had no clothes with
her, which meant she had walked in here nude and planned to leave that way. It made sense,
with just her in the room and a dedicated shower, but...

The stirring in his loins as he watched the girl stand beneath the water, letting it run over her
shoulders and neck, told Harry to go sit on the nearby toilet seat, which he started to do, then
thought better of it. She might just hear him sitting, or the seat clacking if he stood up. Better
to stand, just in case.

Besides, there was more steam down on the lower half of the glass barriers.

A quick glance around the bathroom showed him it was a combined shower and WC, the
toilet and sink nearest the door, with a shower opposite those, and a separate bath set into a
recess opposite the door. Not large enough for two, unfortunately, he thought, then glanced
about again. A single portrait, though no personage was present, of a farm on a hillside
graced the wall above the bath.

Slowly, he let the door shut again, back to the same just-cracked state, and turned his
attention back to the girl in the shower.

Her dark hair hung almost limp under the spray, framing her pale olive face, water dripping
from the tips and running down her slender neck, across her collarbone, and down between
and around her medium-sized, but full and firm breasts, just a shade lighter than her face due
to a little less sun, from there down a mostly-flat tummy and down into the thick marsh of
curly hair, then further down her legs.

Okay, I'll admit it, she's really pretty, he muttered in his own head, and a pretty damned good
shag, but... she's still such a cow.

Though, he was forced to admit further, Even if she hasn't been as bad lately.

The form behind the glass shuddered once.

He, too, started, hand tightening around his wand. She was still after that one jerking
movement, so... Then, again, she convulsed slightly, then both of her hands came up to her
face, covering it, as her head bowed and he heard, for the first time, a real sob.

Oh, shit. I forgot she was upset. Shit... I can't deal with crying girls. Why did I say I'd do this,
again...?

His own mind, unfortunately, supplied the answer in Ron's voice, Because you want to shag
Greengrass again, you wanker. Get in there!

Harry, though, was not so far gone as to be that stupid. At least, not without taking
precautions. A few quick spells later, some through the still-cracked doorway, before,
underneath the Cloak, he stripped off his own clothes down to nothing, then Disillusioned
himself again, before shrugging off the Cloak, too, letting it pool on the floor, and sat his
wand down.
She did not notice when he stepped, naked, into the shower stall.

Though she did when he reached out and pulled her into a tense hug.

She screamed, and loudly, but Harry was not concerned, because he'd silenced the whole
room, and locked the door, besides, and not just with one charm as she had. At once, her fists,
trapped as they were to some extent, started beating and clawing at him, but she had no
leverage, so he ignored it as best he could.

The knee she brought up between his legs was a larger threat.

His reflexes, though, luckily caught her just in time between his thighs, though it still hurt.
"Ssh, Pansy," he said, "I'm not going to hurt you. Ssh."

She froze, going statue-still for a moment, then finally looked up, eyes red-rimmed, to see
who had grabbed her in the shower. Then she blinked, frowning, "Potter? What in Merlin's
name...?"

"Ssh, let it out," he murmured, putting a hand at the back of her head to pull her back into his
arms.

"Fuck you!" she suddenly screamed, somehow getting enough of a grip to push him away,
"Fuck you, Potter! Just because- you ruined my whole life! Fuck you, get out! I never want to
see you again! I never want to hear your name again!"

He blinked, backing away so that he was in the door of the shower, but he did not retreat
completely. He'd promised to help, if he could, and that was what he intended to do. This was
just the beginning. "Look, I'm sorry. I know that doesn't-"

"Fuck your sorry!" she screamed, reaching back to hurl a shampoo bottle- glass, not plastic,
as was more common in the Wizarding world- at him. He ducked, and it shattered against the
wall above the sink.

But she didn't throw anything else. Instead, she went back to crying, covering her face. "I
really am sorry," he said quietly, "I didn't... think it would be this bad. I didn't even really
want to hurt you, at all. Draco was..."

"Draco," she scoffed, shooting him a furious glare between her fingers, "You were right! He
was fucking Umbridge, the little shit! I'm glad I didn't end up marrying that little prick!"

Harry almost hurled, right there in the shower, and all over Pansy.

That was a truly revolting thought.

Only... it didn't add up. Something was off about it, but what...?

"Okay, so- I'm confused," he said as calmly as he could, "What- or in what way- did I ruin
your life, then?"
She hiccupped, didn't say anything for a moment, then whispered accusingly, "Like you don't
know."

"I don't, though," Harry said exasperatedly, patience already wearing thin, "Seriously. I
fingered you, I licked you, I sh- using your language, I fucked you, then... what? Gave you
some damned good advice?"

"Yes!" she screamed, throwing a sudden slap, which connected with his cheek but didn't do
more than sting mightily, "You gave me some advice! Advice I took! And now- now-"

She devolved into sobbing again.

Thoroughly confused, Harry stood there for a minute or longer while she sobbed. Before he
could figure out what he wanted to ask, or say, or... whatever, she pointed weakly with her
right hand back toward the door, "There, on my- on the spare bed, the open letter. Fucking
read it, Potter, if you really don't know!"

He frowned, then stepped back and down out of the elevated shower and back into the
bedroom, dripping slightly but not caring overmuch. The carpet would be dried by air or
house-elves within the hour, he was sure. And if not... he still didn't really care.

There were more pressing things to worry about.

He cast his eyes over the books and notes, before finding something scrawled in a different,
more firm, hand.

My daughter Pansy,

I am disappointed in your tone, young lady. I am more disappointed in your words. Your
disrespect of me is one thing. Disrespect of my instructions is another.

Disrespect of our entire family is something else entirely, and something I will not tolerate.

Your intended nuptials with the Malfoy heir have already been cancelled, at your wish.

Yet, you dare to presume to still tell me, to dictate to me, how you will live? You are fifteen,
young lady, and in no position to give me demands.

In light of this disrespect, let me make a few things clear.

Your affair with your cousin ends now. You will not see him again. If you attempt to contact
him in any way, I will inform his father- my brother , Perseus, if you have forgotten- exactly
what you have been up to in what you thought were safe times and places.

You will wed the person I have painstakingly contracted you to, in haste. You will begin to
attempt courtship of this person the moment you learn his name. You will be a good
'girlfriend', and a good spouse. You will do as you are told.
You will never disrespect him, his House, me, or Mine, ever again. If you do, you will come to
regret it as a Houseless.

We, the Parkinsons, are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. We are a family old and strong.
You... you are one- one- mis-step from being nothing.

Think about what you have to lose, my daughter.

Your Father (for the time being),

Proximus Parkinson.

Post-script: I had forgotten. You will wed Theodore Nott. This is not up for debate. The date
will be the summer following your graduation.

Harry swallowed, lowering the parchment.

There... there was a lot to process, there, not least of which was that Nott was the same girl
that Daphne was supposedly contracted to.

He swallowed, then set the parchment back where he'd found it, returning, stone-faced and
apparently wooden-legged, for his knees and ankles did not seem to respond to his
commands very well.

"Er..," he began as he stepped in, then stopped. Pansy had his own wand an inch from his
nose.

Stupid, stupid, he cursed himself.

She was still backed into the shower, though his wand extended out of it, and she now had a
towel covering most of her front, held across her chest with her left hand. "Well?" she hissed,
"Did you enjoy learning all that, Potter? That the one who took my virginity was my own
cousin? That my father's about to disown me? That I have to marry Nott of all people, if I
want to keep my own family? That I'd be a second wife to Greengrass?

He staggered back. He already knew, of course. He could read. But hearing it all thrown at
him... Still, he shook his head, "I still- I still don't understand. What did you do? What did
you say?"

The wand lowered half-way, but he didn't dash forward to claim it. He didn't know where
hers was in the bedroom, either. "I... I told him I'd decide... who I married. That I was old
enough to think..." she hiccupped, "Th- Think for... myself."

The wand lowered further as she started to cry anew.

Carefully, one hand slightly outstretched to catch the thin piece of wood if it came up again,
Harry stepped forward, back into the shower, and pulled her into a hug again.
This time, Pansy melted against him, the wood clattering to the floor. Carefully, he nudged it
up onto a dryer section, away from the drain, then focused on the sobbing girl in his arms.

Why do I always make girls cry?

After several minutes of holding the crying teen, his legs were starting to get sore. He pushed
her away slightly, just enough to look down at the girl. She continued to cry, but had begun to
quiet, the great, wracking sobs decreasing to meager hiccups. "I... I don't get it, P-Potter."

Almost afraid to do so, Harry hesitated before asking, "Get what?"

"Anything! Draco and I, we- we were raised believing everything the Dark Lord said was
true. That Pure-Bloods were just somehow better. At magic, at being witches and wizards, at
following our customs, knowing how and why magic and our world work- everything."

She hiccupped again, pulling away herself to glare up at him, though not so far as to pull her
slender arms from around his waist, "Then, out of nowhere, you- you and your friends- show
up out of the blue, like you were born to disprove everything I've ever believed.

"Granger, a muggle-born of all things, probably smarter and stronger, magically, than any
witch in fifty years."

Harry was astounded to hear Pansy Parkinson, of all people, say out loud or even think such
things, but Pansy, it seemed, was just beginning her low-key diatribe.

"Even Weasley, the one who should be the strongest of the lot based on what we were taught,
is the weakest of you three by far! A mud- a muggle-born, a half-blood, and a pure-blood,
and he's the weakest!"

"Ron's not weak," Harry said quietly, watching her pert lips quiver with barely-contained
fury.

"I know he's not!" she shouted suddenly, then quieted, "I know... he's just the weakest of you
three. Don't try and deny it. Maybe it's because he's lazy, I don't know, but you and Granger
are both stronger, magically. And... and Draco..."

"I don't think Draco's weak, for what it's worth," Harry said quietly, "I just find him..."

"An ineffectual man, an ineffectual bully?"

He snorted, then nodded.

She grimaced, "I used to think he was so cool... handsome, pretty, even, and nicer to me than
almost anyone... his father and mine had a tentative agreement for us to marry. I wanted to,
then... but when he started pushing me into... things..."

"He pressured you for sex?" Harry asked quietly, ashamed that he'd basically manipulated her
into the same, all-but raped her outright, not even two full weeks previously.
"Sort of," she grimaced, tucking her head back into his chest beneath the spray, still warm
due to the magic of Hogwarts' plumbing, "He... kept asking, and once in a while I'd let him
try a bit. That night, on the- the Tower..."

He swallowed.

Her voice grew softer, almost inaudible behind the thrumming and splash of the shower, "It
was the most I let him do, because he kept telling me he just wasn't as far as he wanted to be.
That... that it'd get better. The thing is, even then, I knew..."

She sniffed, hiccupped, then asked, "If I tell you... my secret? You won't... tell anyone? You...
your friends think you're nice. A lot of students trust you. Can- can I?"

"If you have a secret, Pansy, you don't need to tell me. But if you want to, then yes, I'll keep it
as long as you want me to."

He meant it, every word. He'd already done too much to this girl, bitch that she could be. She
had not deserved what he'd done, even if she'd begged for it, at the time... She hadn't known
the whole story. How could he betray a trust and hurt her further?

She, if anything, was a victim, and the short conversation they'd had in her shower, after he'd
broken into her room, proved she was still a victim, of her upbringing, of Draco's, and in
more ways than he'd considered, himself.

"I... my cousin? The one... in the letter?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"His name's Piers. He's... well, a nice guy. I... might actually love him. I know, it's weird,
even for 'Pure-Bloods', but... he was handsome, and sweet, and he was... my first. Then my
second, and third. That summer was the only time we... and I don't know how my father
knew. Piers wouldn't have said, and I never did, but... he knew. He knows. But that whole
time, I only had two orgasms, all three times we- we did it. I didn't, the first time. But I like
him, a lot, and... I want to see him again."

She was rambling, now, the words spilling out into his chest as if they would never stop, as
endless as the water from the shower-head, "But at the same time, I don't, because of fucking
you, and fucking you, and it... Circe, Potter, I don't know how you did it. I don't know what
was going on. How you made the others..."

She shuddered against him, "Goyle, and Crabbe, and Warrington, and Montague... I mean,
sure, Goyle's got a decent... but eww. I don't know how you got them to shag like that. I don't
want to know. Milly- she says it was great, but she regrets it. Doesn't... I asked her. She said...
she doesn't hate that it happened, but... she wishes it was with other people. She's a bit of a
cow, or she can be, and I know she hates Granger, but look at it from her point of view.
Granger pinched her, for nothing! Just out-and-out pinched her shoulder while they were in
the library. And no apology, nothing. Just walked away like it was nothing, looking at her
fingers, the very same ones she'd have used."
Harry flushed. Second year... the cat-hair. Shit... he'd never once thought about how things
they'd done, their 'adventures' might really, truly look to the rest of the school. Even the
simple act of nabbing a hair from someone's robe might have actually hurt a twelve-year-old
girl.

"But Draco," she continued breathlessly, "Can't even get it up, and then I found out he was
shagging Umbridge. Ugh! No amount of political pull is worth that! You have half the
inquisitorial squad shagging like rabbits on the top of the tower under the open sky, and
Draco can't even get up, when I'm hornier than I've ever been in my life... and... and you
come up behind me. I don't know who you are. You're a stranger, for all I know. Maybe a
teacher. I know you stunned me, and bound me... did you do other spells? Because I know the
others were shagging before I got stunned."

He shook his head, whispering, "I only hit you with the ropes and the stunner, and then the
ennervate to remove it. Draco got hit with more, but nothing painful, I swear. Sticking
charms, disillusionment, and those."

"Would've deserved it if you had," she spat briefly, then sighed, the movement of her
shoulders sliding her slick chest against his, "A-Anyway... I'm tied up, very- very aroused,
and this person wakes me up from being stunned, and then starts talking to me in this husky
voice... touching me... I wanted it to be Piers, so bad. I knew it couldn't be- he goes to
Beauxbatons, and he couldn't even make it to the shortlist last year because he wasn't old
enough- but I wanted it to be.

"Only... when you started touching me, you were better. Teasing me, yes, but making me
want even more. Then... I knew, when you- when you put your mouth on me, even
disillusioned, I knew it wasn't him. But you were bigger, harder... and I wanted it so much,
I..." she sniffled again, then continued, "I came so hard. Then again, and again... I hate your
guts, Potter, for everything you've done to me and my friends. I meant it when I said you
ruined my life with that advice... but I don't... I don't regret it. Is that strange?"

"Probably," he said with a little shrug, "I mean, it sounds strange to me, at least. But I don't
think it was bad advice. Maybe you didn't follow it in the most tactful way, but... it's your life.
The only person you should worry about taking care of is you. Other people are responsible
for taking care of themselves. Sure, let your parents and the adults in your life teach you,
guide you, and so on. It's what they're for, or so I've been told. But, in the end, it's your life.
You are in charge. You make the final call, to do what they say, or do what you think you
need to."

"That sounds like anarchy," she whispered, stepping fully back into his embrace.

"It's not," he shook his head, "It's not even enlightened self-interest. That, to me, just sounds
selfish. But it's true that you can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself. We're
all better off if we have our needs met, including emotional ones. A miserable person has a
hard time making others happy. But a happy person can spread that around pretty easily."

"So you're saying I'm doomed to be miserable, because everyone around is miserable, is that
it?"
"No," he chuckled, tightening his grip slightly, "I'm saying look around a little more closely.
How do you think I got in here? How do you think I found your room- on the first try?"

She swallowed, pulling away to stare up into his face.

"You have friends who care that you're upset," he whispered quietly, "And they sent me. Yes,
knowing it would break rules, maybe get me tossed out. Maybe you. But they still sent me to
help. I didn't- I would have come, had I known, but I didn't know and couldn't have, until
they said something. Don't be mad at them. If you have to be mad, be mad at me, because
their intentions were good."

She swallowed, "Davis and Greengrass?"

He nodded.

"Cows," she said, a little sadly, but with a strange, gentle sort of smile he'd never seen before
on her normally rather hard, angular face. "I... suppose I'll let them off, this time. Since the
password changes tonight, anyway. But what about you, Potter?"

"Hmm?"

"What are... your intentions? You snuck into my room, into my shower."

He swallowed. "Well... I just wanted to help, and didn't want my clothes to get wet."

Her hands suddenly separated from their grip to firmly squeeze his arse with her left, while
her right slipped to the front and between them, down his stomach, to cup his genitals.
"And... if I questioned those intentions?" she whispered, looking up at him with dark eyes.

"I," he said just as quietly, his own hands slipping down to cup both of her rear cheeks, lifting
her off her heels just a bit, "would ask which intentions you preferred. If... if you think to get
me off guard, you will have to find a different venue. And maybe a small army."

She smiled a bit coyly, looking away, then blushed, "I... was actually just thinking of fucking
you, Potter. Look... I won't lie. You're definitely better than Piers. And... we aren't actually
together, you know? I'm not even sure I love him. I just... might. Draco... fuck him, and not in
the way he might enjoy."

Harry nodded, "Okay... so you want a shag. I have a different question for you, then, Pansy."

"What's that?" she asked, almost challengingly as she raised her chin and narrowed her lips.

This time, when he spoke, his voice was firm, "Did you want a quick one-and-done shag,
which might take me an hour, or... a bit longer?"

"I'm not asking for a relationship, if that's what you mean," she scoffed.

He grinned, shaking his head, "No... not at all. I mean, I think it'll take more than an hour for
you to make me orgasm, and you'll be quite happy by then. You get that choice... or we can
go for a few times."
She snorted, "I have a hard time believing that. I've heard some stories about teenagers in
broom closets."

"I," Harry said with a smile, "Am not a normal teenager. Choose. I have no particular plans
until tomorrow."

"You aren't staying the night," she said firmly, "But, if you have time... I've finished all the
reviewing I care to for the day. We can...prolong things, I suppose."

Harry smiled. "Brilliant. So... one more question. You ever sucked off Piers, or Draco, or
anyone else?"

"No," she murmured, then looked down at the erection growing beneath her hand. "Er...
never- never really wanted to. Um... until..."

"Now?"

She nodded, eyes fixed downward.

"You can do it," he said quietly, "I want you to try."

She glanced up, "You- you promise me you can recover before too long, if you finish...
soon?"

"I won't," he assured her, "But yes, I'll be fine to continue- and I don't need my dick to make
you happy, remember?"

She got a far-away look for a while as a little grin graced her lips, before she, dragging her
hands down his chest, then the outside of his legs, sank to her knees in the shower.

Harry watched Pansy consider him for a moment, hands on either side of his thighs, then,
with a glance he thought might have been intended to ask if he really wanted her to proceed,
slid her right hand in. The first finger and her thumb slid around the base of his cock, giving
it a little, light squeeze, then slid up half-way and let go.

She watched as he bounced back up into his chest, then his scrotum, loose from the hot water,
swinging back and forth.

Pansy repeated the motion twice, then pulled him gently down, just past horizontal, so she
could examine the back side, letting him spring back up to slap at his chest again. She almost
smiled at the sound it made, the corner of her dark lips, a shade browner than her olive skin,
quirking upward.

Then she pulled it down again with the same finger and thumb, moving up and down the
shaft at the same half-way point with it aimed more or less at her face, watching his
expression as Harry gave a little groan.

His eyes drifted closed while he fought to cement this moment in his world-view. The
Astronomy Tower, coerced in some form by the Fog of Lust Lilith had dosed Pansy and the
other Slytherins with that night, was one thing...
But in her own shower, in the Slytherin dormitories? No way, in his wildest dreams, would
Harry Potter have considered Pansy's hand on his erection with the hot water cascading down
his chest, over her head and back, licking her lips to wet them further as she leaned in. The
lips parting...

His eyes opened at the new sensation, but she had not taken him in her mouth. Instead, he
looked down to see her tongue, as dark as her lips, sliding, wide and dripping with both saliva
and water, up the underside of his shaft, from the bottom to the top.

"You taste like shower water," she giggled after passing beyond his tip.

"Can't imagine why," he said good-naturedly. It was hard to hate someone in this situation, he
was finding.

Pansy's grin became full-blown, before she leaned down to lick again, this time from tip to
base. Then, accompanied by his groan, she leaned in a little more to lick at the hollow of his
scrotum, just above his testicles, then down to the bottom, behind them, and back up, even
pulling one into her mouth gently with a bit of suction, then letting it go with a little pop that
made him shudder.

He'd never, even Lilith had not really done that, and certainly not when his testicles were so
loosely hanging, and the feeling was... not even really pleasurable, if he had to describe it, but
unique. "Do that again," he murmured.

She blinked, then complied with the other one, taking it in a little more fully into her mouth
and sucking, laving her tongue across it for a few seconds before letting go. "Fuck," he
gasped, one hand flying to the safety bar, the other to the top of the girl's head.

That was intense, and Harry didn't know even after the second time how he really felt about
it. "Now," he instructed gently, "you know what to do?"

She nodded, flushing a bit, making her skin go a bit darker, "I... yes. I know what to do, I
just..."

She stopped talking, then, without looking up at him and most definitely without the blush
fading, opened her lips, licked them again with her tongue, then parted them just slightly as
she pushed his head inside.

Pansy stayed like that while he stayed mostly still, just enjoying her learning curve, while she
licked and laved, putting a surprisingly agile tongue to use in exploring the thick cap of his
penis, before she started bobbing just past the head, about a third of the way down.

Harry, a week or two ago, might have complained that she was not going far enough, but he'd
already learned that Pansy did not have much control over her gag reflex, and...

He might just be bigger.

Lilith had said something about his becoming larger, hadn't she? From her Runes, or
something?
He blinked, wondering if it was just an illusion, but then decided that, at the moment, it didn't
really matter. Pansy was still blowing him in her shower, and that was fine.

Then her right hand started pumping the rest, while her other left his thigh to cup and caress
his balls.

He groaned again, letting her go to work, not saying anything, not guiding her actions,
nothing.

Pansy continued bobbing, occasionally stopping to lick at his balls, too, or run her tongue up
his length or down the sides of his cock for several minutes, her actions growing more and
more fervent as they went.

Eventually, she pulled off completely and, hand still pumping at him along the whole length,
looked up to ask, "Are you even close?"

Harry grinned, "I can be... but no, I said I can go an hour and I meant it. It's been about ten
minutes. Don't worry, you're doing fine. Feels great."

"My mouth is getting tired, and my knees hurt," she complained, frowning at Harry's dick.

"Stand up then," he instructed, reaching down to offer her a hand, which she reluctantly
accepted, struggling a little to rise in the somewhat crowded space.

Once she was up, he guided her beneath the spray, since the shower-head was several inches
above even his taller body, then past it to the wall beneath the faucet, her legs just on either
side of the handle, her rear just above it. "Wh- what are you doing?" she asked.

He shrugged, grinning, pushing his body against hers so that his erection was squished
between them. His hips twitched a few times without his conscious consent, making her gasp,
but he leaned in close and whispered, "I never thought I'd say this, Pansy, but I kind of want
to kiss you right now. Can I?"

She gulped and swallowed, suddenly looking quite panicked, and started to shake her head,
but what came from her mouth was, "Yes."

He smiled, then closed the distance.

Her eyes, he saw as his own closed, fluttered, then shut.

Her body moved, breasts pressed into his ribs, her arms circled his waist again, pulling him
tighter.

Her lips burned with heat against his, and when his tongue brushed across them, they parted
to allow him entry. She was a little less sure of what to do, so for the first time ever, really,
Harry took the lead in the 'French kiss', running his tongue along the inside of her lips,
against her own tongue, while her chest continued to squirm against him, and one of her legs
came up between his, while his went between hers.
As soon as his thigh hit her groin, Pansy started humping his leg, as if she couldn't help
herself. Moreso, she didn't even seem to notice, though her breathing into his mouth
quickened at once. Slowly, gently so he didn't spook the girl, Harry gathered both her hands
in his, then brought them over both their heads, leading her up and up until they touched over
the pipe leading from the wall to the shower head. Confused, she grabbed hold.

Harry smiled, "Stay," then let his fingernails trail down her glistening, wet skin on the
undersides of her arms. She shivered as he grazed over her shaved, much lighter armpits, then
down her ribs to her hips, and back up the front of her stomach to rest, fingers on outside and
thumbs on the inside, against the bottom of her full, round breasts.

She shivered again as he came to rest. Harry, though, grinned, pressing his forehead against
hers, "Tell me, Pansy... do you want me to make you scream again?"

The girl nodded.

"Tell me."

"Make- I want to climax, Potter. Make me... make me climax, so many times."

"Why? Why should I?"

She moaned, groin still sliding on his thigh, hands still holding onto the pipe as if they were
chained there, just the tips of her hard nipples sliding against his, "B- Because... I'm so randy!
I need- I need to. I need you to do it, you're so- so much b-b-etter th- than P-Piers..."

"Good," he murmured, kissing her again, then pulling away with her lower lip caught
between his for a moment, "That's good, Pansy. It's good to admit the truth, right? It feels...
nice?"

She nodded again.

"Then, because you admitted the truth- a lot today, actually- I'll make you feel good, like you
wanted. Okay?"

There was another nod, along with a faint whimper.

When he had been with her before, Harry had really only seen Pansy from the back until the
last few moments when he'd spurted into her mouth, and at that time, he'd been more above
her than anything.

She had surprisingly flawless skin, he already knew, and the time he took to examine her
front, laden with droplets of water stuck to the fine, invisible hairs on her light brown skin
along with the glistening currents where it still ran down despite most of the spray being on
Harry's back and head, obscured nothing.

In fact, he thought they enhanced the view considerably.

Trailing along her skin with his fingertips idly, not even consciously directing them, most of
his focus was on his eyes as he tried to burn the erotic image of Slytherin's resident 'queen
bitch', all but hanging from the shower-head, and whimpering for him to touch her, into his
mind.

It was, again, not something Harry had ever imagined happening, and yet...

I need to thank Lilith very personally for helping this happen.

Pansy's face, he knew, was not what some would call traditionally beautiful, though he found
it pretty all the same, with its strong, angular, almost boyish cheeks and jawline, the firm set
of her mouth and darker brown lips.

Yet, the sight of her short dark hair framing it made him want to lean in and claim her lips
again. He had to refrain, though... there were more important tasks to prioritize.

Her neck, slender and supple, like most of her body, would be unable to stand up to almost
anyone he knew in a fist fight, but she was not at all flabby. In fact, there was an undercurrent
of muscle tone that he had just the barest glimpses of on the Astronomy Tower that showed
she clearly exercised at least a little, though her ribs were still slightly visible.

His hands traced down the edges of her torso again, then back up to where they had been at
her breasts, cupping the bottom edge. This time, though, they did not stop, and slid up and
over each mound from the bottom up, up over her collarbones, coming together to slide up
the slim neck, and cup again around her jaw.

Only then did he lean it for another kiss, brief and sensual, lips just grazing against hers.
When Pansy leaned in for more, he pulled away with his own mouth quirking into a tiny grin.
"Ah, ah... Patience, Pansy..."

His hands came down again, to test the feel and heft of her round tits from below, then the
elasticity as he pushed into each side at once with the palms of his hands, adoring the way
they bounced together and separately. "I said you had nice baps, right? On the Tower?"

She nodded, whimpering again, lips slightly parted as she watched his hands move over her.

"You do," he said quietly, "Amazing, really, some of the best I've seen- and I've seen a few,
lately. Good size, good shape, color, firmness... It really would be a shame if you got fat and
they started to sag."

"I don't intend to," she replied.

He bent at the waist, mostly, watching her face carefully as he leaned forward and in, licking
the left nipple straight upward, watching as the skin, darker even than her lips, flicked up
from the wide areolae, then moved to suckle for just a moment at the right, pulling it out from
her chest as he had with her lip earlier.

"Mm, again," Pansy whispered.

He complied, smiling, glad that, for his own part, he seemed to enjoy the feeling of doing as
his lover (temporary as it might be) wished quite as much as dominating her and making her
beg. This time, though, he sucked it outward once, then moved in immediately to pull as
much of the two-inch areola into his wide mouth as he could, suckling more as a babe might,
washing over it with both the under and overside of his tongue, before letting go and moving
to the other side, repeating the process.

"Piers liked my tits, too," Pansy whispered.

"Any straight man would," Harry assured her, "Though I think it's impolite to talk about an
ex-lover or whatever while someone else is doing this... I don't mind, though. Just something
to keep in mind for the future. He might not want to hear about this evening, for example."

"Don't- don't think I'd want to tell him," she gasped as he squished her breasts together and
pulled both nipples into his mouth at once for a moment, "I- I think he'd be j-jealous of how
fucking amazing you're making me feel, Potter."

He grinned around her tits, then pulled away and stood up to make use of his hands, kneading
upward and in, mostly, and occasionally pinching or lightly twisting at her nipples, "I had a
good teacher, that's all."

"Who?" she asked, "I need- need to thank them."

"You don't know her," he assured his partner, dropping one hand from her chest to lead his
head downward while he sank to his knees, coming out from under the lower spray. "You
might meet her one day, though, if you... want to continue."

"C- Continue?" she gasped as he leaned in, immediately pulling her hooded clit into his
mouth like he had done earlier, sucking on it, too, before letting it out with a pop.

"Mm. You're beautiful, I don't want to stop. But I won't force you. I won't manipulate you
like that, either, not again. If you want me, if you want a shag, you have to tell me."

"Don't get full of yourself, Potter," Pansy gasped while his tongue started flicking in and out
between his kisses, which moved in and down her right thigh, then up the left, from the knee.
"You're good, but I can stop. I didn't ask for this one."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged.

She was silent until he reached her furry groin again, then asked quietly, "That's it? You aren't
going to argue, try to convince me?"

Harry looked up sharply, "Why would I?"

"I... someone else is putting out for you, aren't they? Someone you actually like?"

He grinned, "I'll tell you... next time. If you want me to."

Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, only groaned and fell back against the tiled wall,
her hips thrusting forward into his mouth as he dove against her in earnest. She felt like his
tongue was practically apparating back and forth around her labia, then darting deep inside
her vagina, only to come back out and circling the whole mound, then return yet again to her
folds.
Within moments, she had her first orgasm, immediately followed by another.

He didn't let up until she'd climaxed around his tongue three times, frantically pushing his
head away, "St- Stop, Stop, Potter... I... I need a break! Morgana's dripping cunt!"

He smiled, then obeyed, rising to stand before her again, though his hand flipped palm-out
and cupped her sex, one finger idly working just a single knuckle inside, "I think it's your
cunt that's dripping, Pansy."

Defiantly, she lifted her chin, "And if it is?"

"You want more?"

She held the pose for a few seconds, then dropped it, whispering contritely, "Yes, please."

To her surprise, he reached up to pull her hands from the pipe and use them to turn her to the
right, placing them on the safety bar, then moved behind her, the spray mostly falling on her
rear and back.

"You- you like it from behind," she asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Love it," he said, "But I love it from the front- and sides- too. Just seems like a convenient
position for the shower, that's all."

He didn't let her respond at once, carefully thrusting his cock, guiding with one hand,
between her legs, ripping up the valley of her pussy to bump past her clit.

She gasped, "F- Fuck... You m-missed."

"No, I didn't," Harry said with a grin, "Just teasing. Ask me for it."

"Wh- what?"

"Ask me," he clarified, "For my cock. Ask me to put it in you, Pansy. Ask me to shag you."

"No," she scoffed again, calling his bluff.

But, the moment he started to pull out and pulled his hands away from her hips, she relented,
"F- fine! Fine! Please, Potter, put your big, fat, steaming cock in my dripping pussy, and shag
me rotten, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

He stopped pulling out, the head of his penis just nudging her clit, when he leaned far over
her to whisper, "I want you to do me a quick favor, then I will. It's really easy."

"What?" she groaned, grinding her arse back against him.

He pushed back in, and, as far as he could tell, her clit rubbed somewhere around the mid-
way point of his cock. "I want you to look down, see my tip, and tell me where, exactly, it
rests on your body."
"My- my stomach," Pansy said, confused, "What's the... Merlin... I can't see my navel. I
can't..."

Harry smiled, pulled back, re-aligned, and then slid back into the girl's sopping, smooth,
piping-hot channel in one smooth motion, bottoming out against her arse.

She bit her lip, he could tell, to keep from screaming out, though he hadn't pushed in hard.

He stayed still, her walls fluttering around him. "A fourth?" he asked.

After a moment, she nodded, looking down at the floor of the shower.

"I- I feel you... all the way in," she whimpered, "It almost hurts, but..."

"I feel your cervix, too," he replied. "Fucking deep.... or deep fucking. I guess either works."

"You... you weren't that big... I don't think."

"Maybe I just didn't push in all the way," Harry grinned while saying it, "Or maybe your
memory isn't perfect. You were... a bit out of it, if I recall."

"Whatever," Pansy eventually gasped, "Are you going to move?"

With another smile, Harry pulled maybe a quarter of the way out, achingly slowly, and slid
back in. Like on the Tower, Pansy was smooth, and very, very wet, so it didn't generate much
friction in that way, but her hole, despite Harry not being her first lover, was extremely tight,
providing a sensation no one but Lilith had given him so far, and the Succubus had the unfair
advantage of being at least somewhat malleable, body-wise.

He moved in and out slowly to the half-way point several times, then gradually, every five or
six pumps, getting just a little bit faster. It took the wizard perhaps ten minutes to work all the
way up to what he considered a 'normal' speed, by which point Pansy's body had moved
closer to the wall until her cheek rested on the tile, her tits occasionally slapping against it
with his thrusts.

Then he slowed down again, pulling her by the hips back until the girl was, once again,
nearly horizontal. Then he leaned down again to reach around her and began mauling her
breasts, rough and hard, even while continuing to slowly move in and out, more and more
gentle.

Then, abruptly and without warning as Pansy started to climax again, he switched to gently
cupping her breasts, which more than filled his hands, swollen as they were with arousal,
while slamming into her from behind so hard that she squealed with every thrust, unable to
prevent the air from being forced from her lungs.

Forced to correct her feet's positions again and again, it only took a few seconds until she was
completely up against the wall, hanging on to the bar for dear life while Harry continued to
slam into her, now moving more up than forward, until only the tips of her toes were on the
floor.
She screamed again, louder, her head falling back onto his shoulder helplessly, hands going
limp, as another outrageously powerful orgasm tore through her.

Harry pulled out at once, because the spike in pleasure the vibrating pink walls of her cunt
gave him almost made him lose control.

He held her, cock straining up between her legs, forcing himself to remain still and hold the
majority of her weight while Pansy recovered.

When she had, he gently set the girl down, making sure she was stable on wobbly legs, then
reached back to turn off the water in the shower, before scooping her up in a bridal carry,
thankful yet again for Lilith's body-enhancing Runes, and taking the half-dazed, thoroughly
confused creature into her bedroom.

There, he gently lay her on the bed, not caring about how the water would affect her bed, to
let her breathe for a few seconds. "Be right back," he assured.

Her eyes, alone, tracked him when he returned, and Pansy had one hand on her chest as if to
still her breathing, the other cupping her sex, though it did not move, nesting between her
raised thighs, her feet now up on the bedspread.

Her expression, though it had been only twenty or so seconds while he gathered his clothes
and wand, was guarded and neutral.

"What?" he asked.

"You... you said an hour. It's only been maybe forty-five minutes."

Harry grinned, setting the clothing on the floor next to her bed, and pointed at his reddish,
raging hard-on. "And I'm still ready to go."

Her blue eyes widened, "You- you didn't... I thought you finished."

He shook his head, stepping across the room to stand between where he'd left her knees, "Not
yet."

She shuddered faintly. "I'm... not sure I..."

"Not up for it?"

She quivered, but nodded. "I... that was... very, um... in- intense."

"Good," he murmured with a proud little grin, "Then we can take a break, if you want. I
wouldn't mind just... talking for a bit."

She nodded, then started to sit up.

At once, he reached over and down, putting his hand over hers on the girl's chest, "No, stay...
no one will come in. I locked the door in several ways. Stay like that."
"But..."

His eyebrows raised, "You want our arrangement to be unfair...?"

"No," she protested, "It's just... I'm naked. So are you."

"And," he clarified, laying next to her on his side to let one hand rest on her flat stomach, "I
fully intend to get at least one orgasm out of you tonight, Pansy. I also fully intend to give
you at least a couple more. But you wanted a rest, right? So let's talk... and we can enjoy each
other quietly in the meantime."

"Er... al- alright," she agreed tentatively, "Though I'm not sure what we can talk about."

He shrugged with one shoulder, letting his hand trail the fingertips across her stomach in slow
circles for a bit, then brushing his knuckles along her side, exploring in a less sexual and
more sensual way than before, "Any number of things. Let's start with... the Pure-Blood
ideology."

He quickly set the hand of the arm he was leaning on over her lips to stop any protest, the
other never ceasing its own movements, which had just started to explore the closer arm, too,
"An- acquaintance of mine already explained a lot of it, from the typical Slytherin viewpoint.
I get that blood purity is actually a thing, and why it's valued. What I don't understand is your
viewpoint on it."

She shrugged idly, moving the hand over her heart to give him free reign of her chest as the
trailing fingertips worked their way back up her arm, the hand now beginning to slide over
his own chest as their skin continued to drip and dry, "I'm... not sure, not anymore. I meant
what- what I said, before. It's all... backwards, I suppose. D'you think I'd ever consent to...
this, if... I wasn't already questioning?"

"I suppose not," Harry agreed, twisting a nipple a quarter-turn, enjoying the hitch of her
breath before he went back to just trailing, "So what's so bad about muggle-borns, then?"

Another shrug, making his nails prod into her breast on the opposite side as it came back
down her torso, "I... there's a word for it, I don't know it. It's... that. Judging someone before
you know them, but not prejudice, or at least, that's not the word. Look, Potter... I already
know... it's wrong. I just don't know what... to replace it with, I suppose."

He nodded, "Alright. Well... I don't suppose it would be good if some sort of muggle
literature found its way into your possessions, right? If it got seen by your family?"

She shook her head firmly.

His hand moved up her body to gently caress her neck, then ears, and even up into the short,
black hair, tangling and twisting in it even while he rubbed at her scalp.

Pansy sighed, humming in contentment at the feeling, and actually closed her eyes. "And...
you wouldn't be interested in talking to Hermione about it? I'm sure she's much better at
explaining it than me."
"No, definitely not. I... again, I hate- hated- Granger for a long time. I don't know why,
anymore- it just seems so stupid- but I'm not ready for..."

"I understand," and he really did. Reconciliation, if it ever happened, was not easy. Could he,
Harry, ever forgive the Dursleys for how he'd been raised? Probably not.

True, there were many differences, but he understood grudges and old hatreds far better than
most.

Maybe they never would reconcile. That was on them, though.

"Alright, well... here's my take, my personal one, on what most 'muggle-borns', or muggles,
think- it could be way off base, it's just my opinion."

She nodded, his fingers still curling in her silky hair.

He used the opportunity of her eyes being closed to lean in and, not sure even why he did it,
press a light kiss to the tip of her nose. When he pulled away, she was glaring at him, but said
nothing, prompting him to grin, then drag his fingers down her face, closing her eyes again
with them, then down over her lips. The lower caught for a moment on his middle finger,
making her seem to pout. Then down her neck, where she swallowed reflexively, between her
breasts, which leaned to the side while on her back, and down, down, all the way to the hand
over her groin, which she did not move.

He stayed there, and said quietly, "My take is that everyone- man, woman, child, whether
British, Irish, Polish, German, Russian, American, Mexican, Spanish, African, Indian, or any
other country or culture, whether magical or not, pure-blood, half-blood, muggle-born, or not,
has a soul. That soul is who and what we really are, not these bodies- fascinating and
amazing as these bodies are."

He flicked her nipple out of the blue, eliciting a squeak, then went back to lightly massaging
her, doubling or tripling the pressure from the grazing he'd done before, and specifically
avoiding the major erogenous zones for the moment. "That soul, regardless of the factors I
listed or any other, is 'worth' the same amount as any other soul. You and me, me and
Hermione, you and Hermione, any of us and, say, Padma Patil in Ravenclaw, or Dumbledore,
or- ick- Dolores Umbridge."

She frowned, but didn't open her eyes, only sighing in pleasure as he continued to work and
smooth several tense muscles from her sides and shoulders, then moving down to her legs
which he worked with the same hand while they remained elevated at the knee. "What a
person does with their life affects, maybe, the value of their soul. I would prefer to keep alive
a friend, someone I trusted, than, say, Fenrir Greyback, if I ever had the choice to save one
and doom the other. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," she answered just as quietly, "But that's a subjective value judgment."

"It is," he acknowledged, "And I am a subjective person. The werewolf might think he's in
the right to do what he does- what he's famous for- and probably thinks himself justified. But
the rest of us- even Voldemort's followers-"
He paused while she shuddered at the name, but didn't otherwise respond, "-react as if he's a
monster. Because he acts like one. His choices show him to be one- not his nature. You know
Professor Lupin?"

She nodded, frowning again, "He- he was a werewolf too."

"And one of my father's best friends," Harry whispered, then raised the volume to just a low
rumble again, "And, subjectively speaking, he was a very good Defense teacher, right?"

It took Pansy a moment, but eventually she nodded, "One of the best we've had. Maybe the
best."

"Exactly," Harry said, "Being a werewolf doesn't make you evil- it's what you do that can
make you evil. Sure, many of them are vicious killers, or the stereotype wouldn't exist. But
not all of them are. My policy is to judge people by their actions. Each one, individually."

"That... sounds like a lot of work."

He grinned, moving his hand from the right thigh to the girl's chest, where he finally started
to focus on pleasing and teasing them again, to Pansy's expressed pleasure, "And it is. Work,
I mean. It takes a certain kind of work to maintain the mindset of, 'I'll get to know this person
before I decide if I like them or if they're mean or whatever'. It takes another kind of work to
keep doing that. And, when you make a mistake, it's hard to acknowledge it and apologize.
When someone else makes a mistake and harms you in some way, it's a different kind of
work- sometimes even harder- to accept an apology, or even to understand that what they did
probably wasn't intended to hurt you, even if it did."

"I'm- huh? That doesn't make sense."

Harry thought for several seconds for an analogy, and the only one he could come up with
was this, though he was a bit reluctant, "Okay, so you remember in our second year, in
Potions, when Malfoy tossed that tuber into my cauldron? You laughed, so I'm sure you saw
it...?"

She nodded, frowning.

"Well, Malfoy might have intended to hurt me in some way. Melt my cauldron, burn me or
Ron or both, get us docked points from Snape, something. But what he didn't probably
intend, was what actually happened."

The hand cupping her groin lifted to rub at the lower arm on the other side for a moment.

"Yeah," he whispered, reaching over her body to lift that arm, pressing a kiss to where he
thought the burn had been, though of course, Madame Pomfrey had left no scar. "Unintended
injury. It was just a splash, but I remember you crying. It probably hurt."

She said nothing, this time, only continued frowning.

"Millicent doesn't like Hermione in particular because she pinched her, right?"
Pansy nodded quietly.

"Well, that was unintentional. I happen to know that what Hermione was trying to do was lift
a piece of hair from her robes. She must've just missed and gotten more than she intended.

"That kind of injury happens all the time, without most people ever realizing they're doing it.
I try not to, but I'm sure I do. I... I probably hurt you very badly on the Tower. I am very
sorry. Like I said, it won't happen again. To anyone."

Pansy, though, shook her head, opening her eyes for the first time in ten minutes, "No, I... I
didn't like it at first, when I found out, but... your... what you said. I couldn't get it out of my
head, and I... this thing, with my family? It..."

She sighed, taking his hand from her chest and moving it down between her legs, "It needed
to happen. You're right. I feel it. We... can we talk later? I want you back inside me."

"Sure," Harry grinned, finally allowing himself to notice the aching, throbbing pain in his
scrotum and cock as he sat, then stood, hitching his arms at the elbow below Pansy's raised
knees and turning her bodily length-wise on the bed, then leaning down over her.

"I am on the Potion, now," she whispered from just inches below him.

He swallowed. "I... Pansy, I'm not saying no, not outright. But... this thing, whatever it is? I
can't... sorry, hold on. Let me say it right."

It was a good thing, because the sudden tightness of her beneath him suggested to Harry that
the next thing he said would either get him a great shag or a swift knee between the legs.

"I... I want to. I do. But you said you might love Piers, and I respect that. I'm not saying we're
together, or that we should be- it'd be incredibly dangerous for you if we were, for one thing-
but you need to know more before I can do that. Can you accept that?"

She frowned more, but nodded, "Fine, but if we ever- do this- shag- again, you are telling me.
If I don't cut you off forever. And then you're going to do it inside."

"You have my word," Harry replied solemnly, then pushed in and down.

Again, she moaned around him, but with less intense foreplay, did not climax immediately as
she had the last two times he'd done the same with this girl. At once, though, her arms lifted
around his neck and back, while both legs rose to curl around his thighs, pulling and holding
him toward her, though not tightly enough he could not move.

And move he started to do, slowly, as he had before, but with increasing speed.

This time, in under a minute, Pansy was squeaking again, eyes rolling back in her head
slightly, one arm now fisting into the bedspread above her head while she gasped and fought
for breath against his pounding thrusts, each peak brushing her cervix against his overly-
sensitive cock-head.

"Fuck," he moaned, "That was... quick. An hour and a half, Pansy..."

Then he, with monumental force of will, pulled out and stood up. Without consciously
deciding to, he painted white strips over her body, which glistened like pearls against the
dusky olive flesh, while Pansy moaned.

She panted there, while his penis moved to three-quarters mast and then back up the moment
he resumed watching her, covered and slick with sweat and his seed. Then, grinning almost
maliciously with a technique he'd learned from Lilith, flattened both hands and began
working the sticky fluid into her skin.

At first, she hesitated, but as it continued to absorb, she relaxed once more under his
ministrations.

"That's gross, Potter," she said, voice husky and rough, "But sexy, I guess. Feels pretty- pretty
good, actually. Still gross."

"I get it," he acknowledged, then leaned down, whispering into her mouth as he peppered her
with kisses again, "I have at least one more go in me, if you're up for it."

She groaned, "I- okay. Gently? And- and I want you to finish in my mouth. Like... like the
Tower."

"Your wish," he began with a smile, though he didn't finish the phrase. Instead, he moved
down her body quickly with kiss after kiss, licking at her clit once and then laving up the
copious amounts of cream-cheese flavored juice, before pushing back in.

As she had requested, Harry moved slowly and languidly, his hands continuing to roam,
while she had another orgasm some twenty minutes later.

He then rolled her over and slipped in from behind, only able to get half as deep with her arse
in the way, but using the change in position to massage her back, hips, side, the arse itself,
and even her thighs a bit, while he moved.

As she came again, though, Pansy had another idea. "You- you getting close, Potter?"

"I can be," he said again, "Just taking my time. Why?"

A quick glance at the clock showed him the time: a little after ten. That might be it, but Pansy
didn't seem the type to be worried about curfew, especially for him, and the next day was
Saturday. Only reviewing was likely on either student's agenda... aside from Harry's
extracurricular activities.

"My mouth isn't tired anymore."

He grinned, pulling away and out at once, then helping the girl to her feet while they
switched positions, this time with his legs hanging off the side of the bed. "You don't have
to," he reminded her.

"I want to."

He didn't even particularly care if she went for his wand, at that point, which must have been
inches from her knee. But instead, Pansy was true to her word, and climbed up onto the bed,
then knelt low over his cock and guided it into her mouth with one hand, the other holding
her hair back to give him a good view.

"Fuck," he groaned, unable to help himself from pumping up into her waiting mouth an inch
or so.

She gagged, coughing slightly, then glanced at him in reproach.

"Sorry."

She rolled her eyes, then started bobbing on him once again.

It was... different. Lilith, too, had sucked him off from the side more than once, though no
one else had. But Pansy was more hesitant, definitely less sure, and could only get a quarter
of him in her mouth without coughing.

So why did it feel so good?

In the end, Harry decided to chalk it up to one of life's great mysteries. Maybe it was because,
so far as he could tell, all blow-jobs felt good? Maybe it was the naughtiness of who was
doing it, for every reason?

He didn't really care.

Not really.

He just enjoyed Pansy Parkinson pleasuring him, for a change, with little thought for her own
reward.

Though he did make a point to reach one hand out, caress her round hind end, then slip two
fingers up and down her still-dripping slit, occasionally pushing against the bottom of her clit
while she bobbed on him.

After what, according to the girl's bedside clock, was about ten minutes, he whispered,
"Okay... now I'm close."

Pansy did not pull away. Instead, she scrunched her eyes shut and dove down, forcing a full
half of him into her throat.

He protested weakly, but the sudden increase in pressure kept him from being able to hold
back, and he grunted, dropping a hand onto her head, while the one at her cunt squeezed hard,
pulling one side wide open against the cheek of her rear, feeling like his dick was swelling a
quarter-inch with every pulse of semen it shot into Pansy's throat.

Five.

Six.
Seven.

Nine in all, each powerful shots.

With her lips sealed around him, Pansy slowly pulled back, letting him fall out, still half-
erect, with a more-than-light popping sound, then audibly gulped and swallowed the lot.

Then, without a word, she plopped down beside him on her back. "That was... interesting."

"It was amazing from where I am," he suggested.

She shrugged, "I... wouldn't mind doing it again. Maybe for Piers. You take too long to get
there, though, without a shag first. You must be getting a lot. Fame helping you out?"

At first, Harry was about to protest, but she didn't seem accusatory. In fact, the only emotion
Harry could detect in Pansy's voice was... satisfied exhaustion. "Erm, no, not really. At least,
not that I can tell."

"Whatever... I'm going to close my eyes for a minute."

"Okay," he agreed, "Let me catch my breath, and I'll..."

Then he, too, was unconscious.

Harry woke up briefly in the night, glasses askew, curled around a feminine form a little
larger than he was used to. Fumbling around a bit for the night-stand, he eventually found it-
he must have turned around in the night because it was on the opposite side from where he'd
thought- and put the spectacles down, then curled back up around the warm, slender form.

She purred a little, or at least that's what it sounded like to Harry in his sleep-addled state,
then shifted back against him. Slowly, his arm slipped around her waist. She immediately
took it up without appearing to wake herself, pulling it up so his wrist nested between full,
round breasts.

Slowly, but very contentedly, Harry drifted back to sleep.

 When the Morning Comes
Chapter Summary

It turns out those consequences have consequences, too...

Who knew?

AN: I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories
feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains
in my stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of
the time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write.
Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death-
including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real
life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction
fairly without including them.

I have been informed that my new(er) boiler plate still violates ToS... so once again I'm
changing it. No external links, and one mention of another site (which is not a pay site). If for
SOME REASON this boiler plate still has my stories hidden and / or taken down, I won't be
back. It's just not worth the stress. For those readers who've been loyal since I came back...
sorry. It's not because of you. I very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast
majority of readers.
IF, however, you LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet. Same
author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been doing
here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want to
read more, just head over there.
Again, if my stories are still hidden or taken down... I did what I could.

Chap. 12: When the Morning Comes

He awoke what felt like moments later to a blood-curdling scream.

With a start, he leapt out of bed, surprised to find himself not in his room. What's more, the
sole other occupant was not Lilith, as he'd thought in the dead of night, but a certain Pansy
Parkinson.

A nude one.

Just like him.

The weird thing was, despite the mutual vulnerability, the girl's hands immediately flew up to
her own mouth, stifling the scream, and did not immediately jump out of the bed, or Harry's
embrace.

Instead, she lay there as if paralyzed, eyes wide with shock and fear, and... something.

He had an idea, given his recent experiences, what that might be, but...

"Shit," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes to clear them and fumbling on her nightstand for his
glasses, then slipping them on and sitting upright. "Didn't mean to fall asleep..."

"You- P- Potter... my- my room-" Pansy gasped.

"Yeah," he murmured, "You don't remember yesterday, or something?"

She blinked, frowning, "Of- of course I do. I just-" then her voice changed to a low hiss as
she sent a dark look at the door, "You were supposed to go to your room, not sleep in mine!
How am I supposed to get you out of here without being caught?"

"That won't be a problem," he said, rolling himself carefully over her to reach for his clothes
and wand, then beginning to dress. "I can get out fine on my own, as long as the door from
the Common Room opens from the inside without a password."

"It does," she said, shaking her head, but made no move to get dressed with him standing
next to her bed, even if he was doing so. "It's just... someone will see."

"Disillusionment charm, and I'm pretty quiet," he murmured, "Plus, I can do a point-based
silencio on my shoes alone if I need to."

Slowly, he watched the girl relax back into her bed. Eventually, a content smile, like the one
she'd worn last night as she had drifted off, stole back onto her face as she stretched
languidly, catching his attention in full. "Mm... that was pretty amazing, last night."

"Thanks," he said quietly, "You're... pretty good, yourself."

She blinked, coming back from the stretch to ask pointedly, "Just how many lovers have you
had, anyway, if you're comparing?"

"I don't really see it as any of your business," Harry pointed out.

"Maybe not," she said with the beginnings of a scowl, "But you know how many I've had. It's
only fair."

"Appealing to a Gryffindor's sense of fair play isn't the best tactic when that appeal can get
them in trouble," Harry said with a smile. "But... let me count."

Lilith. Daphne. Cho, Marietta, Alicia, Hermione, and Pansy herself at this point. Maybe the
mystery girl from the broom closet. Have I missed anyone...? No...

"Seven, counting you," he eventually said, "Maybe eight, if you count oral-only."
"Oral-only? You've... done that thing with your mouth, on- on more?"

"Had it done to me by someone. I don't even know who."

"Weird," she scrunched up her face, "Don't think I could... enjoy it, not knowing who it was."

"You did on the Tower," he reminded her, "At least a little."

She blushed, then stretched again, "Are you going to finish soon so I can get dressed?"

His eyebrows rose, "I was hoping to enjoy the view, actually..."

"Nope. Out, or I scream."

"Silencing charms. No one came in so far."

Her own eyebrows rose, "Er... your charms lasted all night?"

He grinned, "Yep."

"Huh. Still, out, please. It's... uncomfortable."

"Alright, alright. Um... before I go, though... you don't have to act differently. I know people
will... wonder, if you do. But do try to be less... how you have been, in public, yeah? Slow
and steady."

"Fine," she agreed with a huff, "Now, out."

And out Harry went, disillusioned but not silenced, and only pulled his Cloak from his pocket
and threw it over his shoulders, maintaining the camouflaging spell just in case, before
following the small trails of students heading for a late Saturday breakfast.

Harry was gasping for air when he arrived at breakfast to a nearly-empty Great Hall. Not
because it was a long sprint from the Slytherin Common Room, but because he'd done it at a
full sprint, just to see if he could. When he arrived, only Professors Marchbanks and
McGonogall sat at the staff table, with only three students, no higher than fourth-years, all at
the Ravenclaw table.

He exhaled in relief, glancing up at the still pre-dawn light coming from the illusory sky
overhead; he'd really not been looking forward to an argument in the Great Hall about where
he'd spent the night. That was the very last thing either he or Pansy needed.

More to avoid Ron or Hermione than hunger, the increasingly promiscuous teen scarfed
down two helpings of eggs, toast, and hash browns in a manner more like Ron would have,
then dashed from the Hall, hoping to find an empty corridor to replace the Cloak of
Invisibility around his shoulders.

He was half-way up the first floor of the grand staircase when a very familiar, "Hem, hem,"
made him freeze in his tracks. No way...
Looking apprehensively in the direction of the noise, Harry was momentarily relieved to see
Ginny Weasley standing at the top of the stairs, looking imperiously down at him. Then, with
an easy grin, she started down. The red-head paused on the stair one up from him, their eyes
nearly level, and said quietly, "Ron mentioned you weren't in your bed last night, Hermione
overheard. She's in a right state- good luck."

Then she brushed past, taking the steps two at a time. Harry watched her go for a moment, a
thought he was sure came about only due to Lilith's influence crossing his mind at the sway
of her hips, visible even through the robes, as she bounded down the stairs. Maybe she's not
just a fan-girl after all. She didn't try to hold my attention or anything, just gave me a tip-off.
Huh... she's sexy, too, no doubt about it. Though Ron would probably still try to slit my throat
if I did anything about it.

With a grimace, Harry continued up to the Fat Lady's portrait, which was more open than
shut at the moment due to the near-constant stream of Gryffindors leaving their common
room, no doubt most or all woken by a shouting Hermione. "No point using the Cloak now,"
he muttered darkly, then squeezed past the fleeing students heading in the opposite direction.

He moved casually to avoid attention- a lesson learned from Sirius and the meeting in the
Hog's Head that had started Dumbledore's Army- and as a result, made it halfway around the
room to the boy's stairs before Hermione stopped shouting in Ron's direction- apparently she
hadn't been shouting at him, exactly- and fixed Harry with a cold stare.

Several interminable seconds later, she looked back to Ron, "We'll talk later."

Then she shot another glare at Harry before stalking out of the room without a word, bag
slung over her shoulder, bulging as always.

Harry sighed, replaying what his best female friend had been shouting through his head. I
don't care if your gut says he's fine, Ronald! This is Harry we're talking about! What if Death
Eaters, or Voldemort, got into the school and took him? What if he went for a walk and was
taken?

Ron, Harry knew, had tried to interject. Harry can take-

But it hadn't done much good. Hermione had continued without even pausing, I know Harry
can take care of himself, that's not the point!

It was at that moment she'd spotted him. It was only the last sentence which had kept him
from jumping into the row himself.

She really was worked up, he told himself while climbing up the stairs, But she doesn't need
to know where I am every minute of every day, right?

He shook his head as he entered the dorm room, passing a sleepy Seamus who was just
leaving the shower. "Better get a move on, Harry," the Irish boy said while wiping his hair,
clad only in his usual Quidditch-themed boxers, "Or you'll miss breakfast. Sounds like
Hermione already woke up the whole House."
"I already ate," the spectacled young wizard replied, "Woke up early," while gathering things
for his own shower.

It was probably true, he reasoned, he'd just gone back to sleep. And he had eaten, already.

Seamus Finnegan, though, was nearly as big a gossip as Lavender Brown, and Harry was in
no frame of mind to let him in on the truth. In fact, the longer he stayed in the dark, the better,
as far as Harry could tell.

Neither spoke to the other until Seamus shot a quick, "See you later," as he headed for the
door, which Harry pretended not to hear, being half-done with his own quick wash already.

Already fed and clean, Harry just stood under the water for more than an hour, thinking.

About the recent changes in his life, focusing on the now three weeks since he'd first
summoned Lilith, but also dwelling a bit on how things had changed since the letters with
elegant, emerald-green writing he now knew belonged to Professor McGonagall had begun to
arrive at his relative's house.

As the hour wore on, though, one thought kept passing fleetingly through his mind.

The experience on the Astronomy Tower was one thing, but the previous night had been a
revelation of sorts. Not so much about himself, but... people, in general, and Pansy in
particular.

How, Harry wondered, How in the world did I end up forming a real emotional connection
with Pansy Parkinson?

It was nothing he'd expected, certainly not with the advice he'd given her after ejaculating in
her mouth atop the Tower. The retching, that he had expected.

What had he expected, though?

Hoped for, maybe, a small change in behavior.

But this... this radical change?

A part of him wondered if it was real, or if the whole night had ben faked to get him
vulnerable, or to get him to spill some secret or other.

Harry's gut, however, told him differently.

Something about her body language, the way she'd stretched languidly on top of the
bedspread with a soft smile adorning her mouth that morning. Enjoyment, contentment,
pleasure... she was happy about the previous night, he was sure of it.

Her language, in word choice and tone, too, suggested to the young wizard that it wasn't all
an act. That Pansy, for whatever reason, truly did not know what to believe anymore, and was
actively searching for... something. Yes, to believe in, but also to think or feel.
Hermione's voice echoed in Harry's head with words she'd never said to him, but that might
have come from an overheard television program in his youth, "That age when young men
and women start to wonder and think about who they are. What they, themselves, believe,
outside of the shadow of their parents."

Part of him felt like it was too simplistic an answer, but he also felt quite strongly that her
adolescent changes were doing a lot to put her on the path she now seemed to be walking.

"What do I do about it, though? Nothing?"

Lilith stepped into the room in her petite form, stark naked, but did not walk around the low
wall between the door and showers, only leaning against it with arms beneath her chin across
the top, the low wall almost hiding her thin shoulders, "Do about what, Master?"

Harry sighed, struggling to both ignore that a beautiful creature watching him shower- or at
least stand under the water- and to put words to his thoughts and feelings. Once he felt
comfortable enough to begin, he explained as best he could.

Lilith listened patiently, then said, "Well, you can certainly do nothing. She- the tart- will
either backslide, reverting to how she was before, or take your words to heart for a long
while, likely ending up in a somewhat more moderate place than she is now, once she figures
herself out. That might take a decade, or a bit more."

That had not been the direction he'd expected Lilith's answer to go, but she apparently did
have a pretty good knowledge of the way people's minds worked. "And... if I do something,
instead?"

What, exactly, Harry could not say. But sitting idly by while things happened around him had
never been something he had enjoyed, or a trait he possessed naturally.

Lilith shrugged, "Depends on what you do. It sounds to me like, right now, this girl has
handed you a lot of power over herself and her future."

"I don't want power over her," Harry protested.

"Don't you?" the Succubus asked quietly, "Because I, personally, think you do, in at least
some ways. More importantly, I think you should."

Harry shook his head quickly, "I don't. I've never wanted to tell people what to do."

A rose-pink eyebrow rose, "Outside of the proverbial bedroom, you mean?"

He blushed, nodded once, but said nothing.

"Power and Control," Lilith explained quietly a moment later, "aren't necessarily bad things
to have over someone, especially yourself, of course. What matters is what you do with it.
Let me give you some examples."

Confused and intrigued, Harry shut his mouth to listen, trying to keep an open mind.
"I," she began, "have some power over you. I could, in theory, withhold access to my body.
You, presumably, don't want that, so I have power over you."

He nodded unconsciously, but did not think he understood.

"Of course, you have more power over me. You can't really withhold your bed, because the
consequences of that are bad. But you can, within reason, ask me- or order me- to do nearly
anything, and I'm obliged to obey. Not because of the Contract, though that does come into
play, but because I need and want what you, alone, can provide."

"My semen?"

"Among other things, yes," she finished with a momentary glance toward his crotch, before
returning her gaze to his, "Your Dark Lord controls people through fear and greed, mostly,
and that's 'bad', right? What most people in your position don't understand until later in life is
that most humans- and other creatures too- want to be controlled. In fact, many people need
it."

"What?"

Lilith smiled a bit sadly, "Leadership- and you are a leader, whether you want to be or not-
requires making decisions. Most everyone can decide what to wear in the morning, or what to
cook for dinner. But ask them to choose which of their children to save from a fire, and they
are suddenly paralyzed with fear. But a leader, like you, says something effective, spurring
them into action. Maybe not always the best move, or even a good one, but something. 'Save
that one, I'll get this one,' or, 'don't just stand there, grab a kid and move,' or a similar
command."

"That's a terrible choice," Harry frowned.

"But it is leadership. The tart wants to be led, because she isn't ready to make those kinds of
decisions herself. Many people never truly are, but most people learn to, at least some of the
time, throughout their lives. Still, you'd be surprised how many adults go through life just
muddling along, unaware that even their 'educated choices' are mostly just guesswork or even
more chaos than agency. Most sentient creatures are that way, including my kind, yes. But
that's part of what self-awareness is."

Harry reluctantly nodded. There was plenty of evidence for what Lilith was saying in the
arena of Britain's public opinion regarding himself, alone.

"So you, Master, have the choice of guiding that girl onto a different path. Say, a more
progressive path, one more aligned with the views shared by you and your friends. Or, you
could do something entirely different."

"Like what?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Another shrug graced the pale shoulders, "That's up to you. But before you decide anything,
consider this. Voldemort has a small army. So does your Ministry. And so, in a way, does
your Dumbledore, and I don't mean your study group."
"The Order of the Phoenix," he said.

"Sure," with another half-shrug, as if the name of the only group truly opposing Voldemort's
takeover was of no consequence, "But what do those groups all have in common?"

Harry was quiet for a bit, even shutting off the water and stepping around the wall to the
perpetually-filled shelf of dry, warm towels and beginning to dry himself.

As he lowered the towel to his waist, it hit him, "They gathered around a central figure.
Voldemort, the Minister- or maybe the Grand Warlock- and Dumbledore."

"All, apparently, people of, or positions of, power. Who else, do you think, could gather a
similar group? Someone who is fairly powerful, and already has a close-knit 'inner circle'
with a larger group who would fight for him or her without question?"

He thought about that, too, while gathering his clothes, slightly distracted by Lilith as she
pushed him gently to sit on the edge of his bed. "I... I can't think of anyone."

She smiled, "A human philosopher said something like, 'The man who does not desire to rule
it can be trusted with the world.'"

As she softly took his folded clothes and set them beside him, Harry frowned, "That sounds
cool, but it doesn't ring any bells."

"One more hint," Lilith whispered, as she sank down to her knees, with a petite hand on each
of his thighs, "I'm about to give him an amazing blow-job."

Harry could see, as his eyes widened with surprise, the inside of the Succubus' mouth morph
and change as she leaned down, the shape changing from the standard humanoid mouth and
throat with a tongue, to something deeper, lined with... a rippling, writhing, something of a
paler pink color, lighter than any part of her hair or even skin.

As her lips, twisted up into an amused, anticipatory smile, passed over the head of Harry's
swelling cock, she whispered, voice slightly muffled, "Relax, Master, and enjoy..."

Any trepidation he might have felt over the strange sight bled away in an instant as he felt
that same form, that of hundreds of tiny appendages, each a bit smaller than the nail on his
pinky finger, that each moved like small tongues that seemed to have lined her throat and the
depths of the Succubus' mouth began to massage, knead, and caress his cock-head, pulling at
him with a hundred, no, two hundred tiny, soft, warm, and wet caresses at every moment,
even while Lilith continued to sink down, down, onto him.

The last protest he might have mustered in that moment against having such a goal or
viewpoint or whatever it was that had been practically forced upon him died in ecstasy.

Lilith, he already knew, did not need to remove her mouth or his penis from her throat to
breathe (though she did, apparently, need air in some fashion), because she was perfectly
capable of breathing through her nose while keeping him fully buried inside her, lips suckling
at the base of his erection while her throat, normally, worked around his head.
Now, though, the sensation was entirely different. Not better, really, but very, very different.
Just as wet, maybe a little hotter than normal, the fluids that seemed to be excreted by the...
bumps, or whatever they were, a little stickier than saliva, but they still lubricated just as
well.

Not that she was moving much, only occasionally working her throat, which now convulsed
around his length in ring-shaped waves that gripped him tighter at about the half-way point
and pulled around all of him at once up to the tip, one wave, at least, sometimes two, moving
slowly up his length while each individual 'finger' did its own vibrato dance along his flesh,
as if to gently pull or nudge him further inside.

A part of it was just like certain creatures he had learned about in The Monster Book of
Monsters, or Hagrid's classes, particularly the suckers of the 'female' Blast-Ended Skrewts,
and it put him in mind of feeding.

Fortunately, his erection was firmly attached, and the pressure pulling on him was only barely
stronger than what Lilith normally produced while sucking him off. The largest difference,
then, was not in the type of pleasure, because each 'finger' was textured a little like the bumps
on a human's tongue, only several times larger, but in area covered. Instead of just being at
the bottom or top, or at most a third of his girth for a couple of inches, the feeling engulfed all
of him, from the half-way point up to the end, and it didn't stop.

Harry groaned, even while trying to analyze what he was feeling, and rested both hands on
Lilith's head. "Gods," he murmured, "Not- not sure what you're doing, but it's amazing."

Lilith only smiled around him, both the vibrations and pulsing waves increasing in frequency.

Just two minutes later, he was ready to pop, which he signaled by pushing Lilith's head
further down on him. She grinned again, reaching one hand beneath her chin to gently
massage his balls while he began to spurt.

Thirty seconds later, Lilith's lip-lock around his slowly-softening shaft released with a light
pop, not a single drop of his seed falling out to be licked up later, and he watched her throat
convulse a few times, regaining something closer to its normal shape, before she smiled,
opened her mouth to show him it was back to normal and 'clean', then crawled up onto the
bed, still as naked as he was, to lay across him and press a quick kiss against his mouth.

"What... what was that?" he asked after she pulled away, his hands rising to circle the little
demoness around the waist and arse.

She shrugged, kissing him again, "Little trick from our world. Mimics a creature called
extakkrithamvfflaggrothm. You liked it? They're sometimes trained to give the male- or male-
like of our species training in resisting orgasm. To increase staying power. I've, er, been told
it's quite the feeling."

"I did," he murmured, "Very... different, but great. I didn't realize you were so... capable. Of
changing your body, I mean. Also I have no idea what you just said."
She smiled, resting her head in the crook of his neck, "We can change quite a lot, actually. I
could look like anyone, if you wanted. You could make love with two Hermiones, for
example, later on. But there's so much more I can do, too. As for the name... sorry, my
language isn't very verbally compatible with your English. And... well, let's just say I'll tell
you what it means... later. Maybe I'll show you one."

"Okay, um... so, more you can do. Like...?"

He felt her smile more by the rise of her cheekbones against his jaw than anything else, but it
was evident in her voice as well when she answered, "All in good time, Master. Rest assured,
I have a lot to show you before I consider your 'education' complete. Just because you can
make me climax before you do if you try really hard doesn't mean you're a master, yet. It just
means you have potential."

"I like the sound of that," he murmured, "But..."

"No buts," she whispered, "I'm satisfied for the day... but your friends need you. If you want
me later, you can come find me, of course."

"Alright, alright," he grumbled, taking her in one arm- he was a lot stronger than he used to
be, thanks to Lilith's runes- and sitting up, then placing her on his bed while he dressed. "I'll
see you later, Lilith. And, um... looking forward to it. I- I think."

"You'll probably enjoy it all, Master," the Succubus grinned, feigning sleep already as she
faded completely from view.
 Paying Forward
Chapter Summary

Lessons learned...
And learning that helping your friends, even strangers, makes them far more disposed to
helping you, in turn.

AN: I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories
feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains
in my stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of
the time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write.
Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death-
including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real
life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction
fairly without including them.

Hopefully a new 'final-ish' note:

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Chapter specific: Due to my stories being hidden for a while, I couldn't post this one on-time.
It's the chapter that would have come out on the 9th. I do intend to release another on
Saturday, as usual.

Chap. 13: Paying Forward

A much more relaxed, though still resigned, Harry eventually caught up with Neville, Ron,
Hermione, Dean, Parvati and Lavender, while they sat in a loose circle on the lawn between
the Quidditch Pitch and Hagrid's hut.

Hermione shot him a gimlet eye as he approached, the intervening hour or two seemingly just
enough to take the edge off her anger but not remove it entirely, but said nothing as he set
down his bag at the largest empty spot between Neville and Lavender, greeting everyone
while he sat.
The witch in question, predictably, had taken charge of the Potions review session, as she
picked the book in her lap up and read off another question, "Alright, Ron, how are Aconite
and Wolfsbane alike, and how are they different?"

Harry smiled, remembering his- their- first ever Potions Class. Ron seemed to be at a loss for
the answer for a minute, until he noticed Harry's growing smirk. As if using legilimency
against him, Ron suddenly shouted, "Same! They're the same plant, so the only difference is
the name!"

"Very good, Ron," Hermione beamed, then asked, "Neville, why does a Bezoar have the
effect that it does, and for what category of things does it have that effect?"

Neville swallowed, "Um... it- it works on poisons. I don't know why, though."

"That's alright," Hermione said, "We didn't cover it in class very well. Because it has
absorbed so many stomach acids from the goat, which can be very powerful, the acidic nature
counters many Base toxins, and overpowers milder acids, while the essence of clover, a
major part of most goats' diet, acts to neutralize harmful magic. That, among other things,
gave rise to the muggle superstition about a four-leafed clover."

"Oh, Okay," Nevill nodded, jotting the information down. Harry was glad to see that he
wasn't the only one, as Parvati, Lavender, and Ron were all doing the same.

He was still a bit surprised to see Neville, who was top of their year in Herbology, not make
the connection with clover, however.

Then Hermione turned to Harry, face carefully neutral, and asked, "Why does the Draught of
Living Death require precisely thirty-seven clockwise stirs with a nine-inch crystal rod?"

Harry swallowed. No wonder she was suddenly so calm. Hermione had clearly decided to
work out her anger in other ways than shouting or hexing. "Er... magically strong numbers?
And, um... doesn't crystal- any clear crystal- signify a purifying agent or action?"

The others clapped, but Hermione frowned, muttering, "Lucky guess."

So the review continued through the morning, the mood on Hermione's end gradually
lightening as it became more and more clear that, while Harry certainly had been neglecting
his review and studies, he did sort of know what he was doing in Potions... maybe.

His own mood, though, darkened.

He was enjoying the company, and not really minding the review. Hermione's anger, while he
thought it might have been misplaced, was at least understandable.

No, the problem was that a part of him simply could not let go of what Lilith had been trying
to teach him. He understood the lesson, deep in his bones. Felt, in fact, like he'd always
understood it on some level.

But, looking around the group, he was having a truly hard time thinking in terms of 'inner
circle' and 'army'. Sure, Ron and Hermione topped the list, and if he had an inner circle of
followers, they would be in it it, maybe all of them. Even Lavender, Parvati and Seamus,
Harry could, with a stretch, call friends. He didn't want to use or manipulate them.

Neville was even closer, nearly as close a friend as his oldest two.

It's just a really cynical view, Harry's inner Hermione argued, while at the same time, a new
voice that instead sounded like Lilith pointed out, That doesn't mean it's wrong.

On their way back up to the castle for dinner, having spent a couple more hours reviewing
and then an hour 'hanging out' like the teenagers they were, speaking of nothing in particular
or anything at all of import, Harry fell back, pulling Neville along with him.

Hermione, already half-way up the stairs and dozens of feet ahead, glanced back with a faint
scowl, then carried on, leaving the rest, aside from Ron who had hurried to keep up with her,
behind. Lavender, too, paused when she reached the stairs, "You two coming?"

"We'll be right there," Harry answered quickly, hoping to forestall any further questions.

The pretty blonde shrugged, turning back and heading in. He heard, in the distance, her
greeting Padma, Parvati's twin sister in Ravenclaw, before the group followed most of the rest
of the students into the Great Hall.

When Harry turned his attention back to Neville, the other boy was pink in the face. "I know
what you're going to ask, Harry. I don't want to talk about it."

Harry only grinned, leading his friend away from the door to a secluded alcove near the base
of the stairs, but beyond the tower on the east side, out of sight of the door, where the hill
looked down over the Pitch and the Forbidden Forest. He waited until they were both out of
sight before he turned to face his fellow Gryffindor again, "It's nothing you have to be
embarrassed about. I wasn't asking for details, anyway. Just answer me this: Are you still
interested in getting to know Hannah better?"

Neville gulped, then swallowed. "Y- Yes, but... I'm... not sure I'm... r-r-ready."

The sudden return of his friend's stutter told Harry all he needed to know. Neville, for his
part, had not felt the meet-up with Alicia Spinnet had gone well the previous night. He gave a
little sigh, "Alright. Um... so when I talked to her and Susan, they did express some interest.
Hannah is very interested in you. She... well, she made it clear she wouldn't mind a romp
with me, if you didn't care."

"I do," Neville said, clearly having to force himself to say it, "But... I... I'm just not sure. I
mean, I- with Alicia- we... did it. It was nice, but... messy. And she knew what she was doing,
I could tell that much."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "I recently learned that Alicia's been with several blokes before. Not a
whole bunch, but enough to get some experience in."

"You?"
Harry blushed, nodding, "Er... just that day, in fact. Earlier. Sorry."

Neville didn't look particularly bothered, though. He only put his hands in the pockets of his
trousers and looked out over the forest and slope at Hogsmeade Village, in the distance.
"'S'alright. I don't care. It's not like I... am gonna be with her. Right?"

"Exactly," Harry said, relieved at how Neville was taking it. He suspected, somehow, that
most people wouldn't take things like that very well, "But listen, about Hannah? I want her, I
won't lie, but for me it'd be just for sex. And I know that would bother you, so I won't unless
you expressly tell me otherwise."

Neville nodded, then whispered, "Thanks for that."

"It's really not a problem," Harry assured him, "Remember, I'm not in this just for me. I can
get girls elsewhere, and I'm not out to knock up half the school or anything. Susan, though...
she wanted... well, when I explained the situation, with you and Hannah, me being the go-
between, and what I wanted- not what I expected, I made that clear- she, um... volunteered.
Does that bother you?"

Neville frowned, then shook his head. "No... I mean, if we're being really honest, I wouldn't
mind a roll with Susan Bones either, but I think her aunt would kill me, if she didn't, and
Hannah... Hannah's the one I really want. Like, forever. At least, I think she is."

Harry clapped a hand to Neville's shoulder, "Alright, then. I don't have a time or place, then,
but let me make a suggestion. First, go talk to her. Hannah. It's not as hard talking to them as
we used to think, you know? And hey, talk to Susan, too. If there's one thing I've learned
about girls lately, it's that a good way to get them to like you is to get their friends to like you,
too. Not that you have an issue with that, since Hannah all-but told me if you asked her out
she'd definitely say yes."

Neville blushed, nodding.

"And," Harry said a little quieter, "just putting this out there, I wouldn't be jealous if you
shagged Susan. Not saying you have to, but if you get in a twist, or change your mind or
something... Oh, another piece of advice."

"Hmm?"

"Maybe meet up with Alicia again. I know she's not who you want," Harry clarified, "but if
she's willing to show you the ropes... make it better for Hannah, in the meantime, isn't it
worth it?"

The other boy swallowed, but nodded, "I'll- I'll think about it. She... said she'd charge,
though."

Harry frowned, "Huh. She's more up-front with you than she was with me. If you want me to
cover it..."

"No, I can pay," Neville said, blushing again, "It's just... isn't that wrong?"
"I don't know if it is," Harry replied, "I have my own issues with the idea, but it's not like
she's forced to do it- she does it for more spending money. There's no drugs, or magic, or
manipulation, making her do it, so it's her choice. That's my take, anyway."

Again, Neville nodded, then started walking back toward the entrance of the castle, "I'll...
think about it."

Harry, to his surprise, found a note in his bag when he joined his friends, yet again, for a
much shorter review session after dinner. The lot of them, even Hermione, agreed that they
had spent enough time on Potions for the weekend. Instead, they would devote two hours,
and only two hours, with alarms set, one hour each to Care of Magical Creatures and
Astronomy.

By the time each of the students made it up to bed, Lavender and Parvati chivvying
Hermione along to 'get her beauty sleep', Harry was quite exhausted and had completely
forgotten about the note. Until, that is, he started re-sorting his books for the next day's study:
four more hours on Potions, two on History, and one on 'electives', which Hermione had
scoffed at, saying she needed at least six dedicated hours before her Arithmancy examination.

Harry closed his fist around the small note, withdrawing it from his bag as he set it down at
the foot of his bed by his trunk, then climbed into bed, boxer-clad, and pulled the curtains
shut.

Only as he unfolded it did he find out the note had apparently been written by two different
people, in two very different styles.

Mr. Potter,

I am the acquaintance you met briefly about three weeks previously. I happen to be skilled
with the voice-changing charm, if that helps jog your memory, though I hope the memory of
the events of when we met were memorable enough for you.

I am writing with a simple request: a repeat, with perhaps a little extra, if you are willing. I
will perform the same favor for you, in return for the same favor for me, and to the same
hopefully satisfying result.

If you are amenable to this, merely be in the same location at the same time Sunday evening
at seven. Please bathe in your usual manner between then and dinner, and I will do you the
courtesy of the same.

Of course, it behooves you to tell no one of the encounter, as it behooves me.

-An Acquaintance of hopefully mutual benefit

Below that half-page of parchment, in an entirely different, even neater, though less elegant
scrawl, were these words, written in deepest red:

Master,

This is, indeed, the same girl from the broom closet. I watched her deliver it, though I'm not
sure how she got in here, since she doesn't know the password, in theory. Her offer seems
sincere, for what it's worth: she was very aroused when I saw her. No, she didn't see me, or
have any idea I was there. I want her, too. Tasty... she reeks of lust. After you of course,
Master.

I might just join you, though I do have a different meeting at the same time with a friend of
yours... Hermione asked me to talk, and set that time aside. I don't know what about, and I
don't think it'd be polite for you to ask.

-Your Favorite

Harry grinned. The girl in the broom-closet hadn't been his best blow-job by far, but she was
pretty good, and he had the idea that this was still the prelude to more. Not to mention, the
mystery of finding out who the 'not Gryffindor girl relatively close to his age' was. It leant a
certain thrill to the thing...

Dreaming of mysterious women, dozens of them, touching, caressing, kissing, sucking,

licking, or riding his body filled Harry's head as he drifted to sleep.

Sunday was spent much as Hermione had planned it for the majority of the Gryffindor fifth-
years, all of them, from the 'trio' to Neville, Lavender, Parvati and Seamus, to Dean Thomas,
Faye Dunbar, and Luca Caruso, a girl he'd seen and known was in their year, but never
actually spoken to.

Breakfast, the only light spot being a quietly giggling Lilith giving simultaneous hand-jobs to
both Harry and Ron under the table. Watching Hermione's nose- and others'- wrinkle at the
smell of their leavings wafting up from beneath the table was humorous to Harry, too, though
he found it hard to keep a straight face.

Potions, for another four hours. Four hours more of Potions study and intense review.

Lunch, nothing special... Harry ate woodenly, already exhausted, despite the Stamina Rune
he sported. He was only just now learning, in earnest, that there were multiple kinds of
exhaustion in the world.

Then, just because things had been going swimmingly, two hours of review on Astronomy,
and... an hour of electives.
Which would have been rather blasé, overall, if Harry and Ron had not been invited to study
by Parvati and Lavender.

Almost reluctantly, Harry agreed, Ron following his lead, though Harry had made it clear he
needed to shower immediately after dinner, so joined them a bit later.

The time spent in the pretty girls' presence in one corner table of the Gryffindor common
room wasn't unpleasant, exactly. More... frustrating, than anything.

Totally aside from the majority of the fifth-years studying as hard as they could along with
the even more-stressed looking seventh years, most of the rest of the House seemed to be
either out enjoying the castle or grounds in the warm evening air, or in various stages of
flirting, though thankfully most of that was in the upper years.

Lavender and Parvati, for their part, seemed split between the two goals, heedless of
Hermione just two tables away.

Not that either girl could possibly know that, at least in a way, they were actually 'together'
now...

Either way, it did not stop Lavender from flirting shamelessly with Ron, and even laying it on
a little thick for Harry, or Parvati resting with her left hand on Harry's thigh while she leaned
into him to explain some concept or other about tea leaves, pressing her firm chest against his
arm, and lingering there a bit longer than was strictly necessary.

In fact, Harry found the whole thing pleasant enough that he had to whisper into Parvati's ear,
"Look, you, me, Lavender, and Ron need to... talk. But not this evening. Maybe over the
summer, if not before. Okay?"

"Sure, Harry," Parvati had whispered right back, nibbling a bit on his earlobe as she
withdrew, then blowing him a not-entirely-subtle kiss, while, across the table, Lavender
clasped Ron's hand as she laughed at something he had said- something he doubted was all
that funny- and brought it up to her chest, again, holding it for longer than was seemly.

Not that Ron was complaining, if the small grin on his face showed anything.

Not that either boy expected the 'studying' to really help their grades in the subject.

At quarter-to-seven, Harry begged off, closing up his books, "Sorry, Parvati, Lavender, I've
got a meeting with, uh, Professor- or Healer Tonks. She wanted to discuss N.E.W.T. Level
Potions... since Snape might not be here. I don't know."

Parvati sent him another tempting wink, one that tightened Harry's trousers as he threw his
books into his bag and hiked it onto his shoulder, but he wasn't about to hold off on this 'date'.

He arrived at the closet near the Ravenclaw Tower entrance at five minutes to seven, knocked
once on the door after glancing about- there was no one he could see in the hall- and slipped
inside.
"Lumos," he incanted, then immediately set to work on the small, cluttered space. The bucket
for mopping, an ancient, pitted piece of wood and rusted iron cooping, he transfigured to a
sturdy, short stool similar to the bar stools at the Leaky Cauldron. The two brooms, and five
crates of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover were Vanished, with the last
item that wasn't hanging up on higher shelves, the dirty old mop, transfigured into a fluffy,
clean, white towel.

A towel he had use for, later, if things went well.

Then again...

He grinned, transfiguring it again into a fluffy pillow instead, just as there was a tentative
knock on the door.

He stepped into the shadows behind it as the door swung open and a vaguely familiar
silhouette stepped inside, quickly shutting the door before he could really make out who it
was in the darkness. Definitely a feminine form, but beyond that...

"You a boy?"

The same words, the same modulated voice.

"Same as last time," he said hoarsely, wishing he'd learned a spell to do what she had done.

"Good. Like what you've done. I'm randy. You first, or me?"

"Erm," Harry said, a bit surprised by her brusqueness, "I... I suppose you. I'm randy too, but I
can wait."

Without another word, the girl took his hand, putting it at her waist, then held it there while
she sat on the stool and spread her legs, putting her feet on either side of the small rail he'd
crafted.

Smiling in the darkness, Harry used a foot to nudge the pillow into place for his knees, then
sank down, using his hand to judge the space.

His first couple kisses he pressed against the girl's thigh, but after that, the altered voice
growled, "No foreplay, get your mouth in there. I'm not here to kill time, I'm here to get off."

"Suit yourself," he murmured, then leaned further in, accidentally bumping his nose into her
stomach in the dark, then using that to find her core- further assisted by the heat and smell
of... ginger, he thought, coming off her. She was, indeed, randy.

"That's it," she murmured as he started licking.

He continued, using all he'd learned from Lilith, starting on the outside and working his way
in, keeping one hand on her thigh, while the other freed his own member and began to
leisurely stroke it, not enough to induce climax any time soon, just enough to feel nice.
Eventually, probably three minutes in, the girl started to breathe rapidly and one of her hands
suddenly clenched into his messy hair, the juicy lips of her twat pushing into his face and
holding there, but still quivering, until she took in one deep breath and held it, body not
moving in the slightest, for about ten seconds.

Then she gasped and relaxed backward, panting resuming, "F-fuck, that was good," she
murmured, then ordered, "Stand up."

He was half-way there when she grabbed him by the head and kissed him again, her tongue
immediately laving around his lips and into his mouth. But, the moment he started to kiss
back, she pulled away, whispering, "Your payment, same as last time. Trade me spots."

Harry, still grinning- he truly did enjoy eating pussy, even from relative strangers- spun
around the girl in close quarters to sit on the stool himself, erection already out.

Something that made her giggle when she wrapped cool fingers around it. "You seem bigger
than last time," she murmured, but didn't hesitate to sink down onto it with her mouth.

She only dropped about a third of the way down before starting to bob, using both of her
small hands to stroke the rest of him.

Again, Harry had to note that she was, indeed, skilled... but nowhere near as good as Lilith,
and even Hermione was able to deep-throat him. This girl, though, did seem significantly
curvier than his best friend, more along the size of Lilith's form as Ron preferred her.

She continued to suck and bob on his knob for several minutes, Harry's climax slowly
building, until at last she popped off, "Damn... you got some stamina, whoever you are.
Mouth's getting tired."

"We could shag," Harry offered at once, grinning in the dark again, "But no pressure."

"That's not how I work," the voice-modulated girl replied, "I'm... saving myself for someone.
Practicing."

"Alright," he conceded, "That's fair. If you can't do it, don't worry about it. There are other-"

"No," she said, throwing a hand over his mouth with surprising accuracy, "I... the deal was, I
suck you off, you eat me. Doesn't matter if my mouth's tired."

So she leaned in again, continuing to slurp and lick at his cock.

The problem, Harry thought, was that while she was good, the girl just couldn't get enough of
his apparently larger size into her mouth to really stimulate him fully. And while her hand-job
helped, it just wasn't enough to do the job quickly.

Not that he wasn't enjoying it.

"Question," he asked after several minutes, and feeling the girl wince around him once or
twice, "this guy you're saving yourself for- does he know you exist?"
She didn't answer at first, but after a few seconds, pulled off him and audibly worked her
tired jaw for a minute, still stroking him, "I... probably not."

"Then fuck 'em," he repeated Lilith's words to Hermione from the day she'd found out about
the Succubus (had he really let her find out just a day after the initial Summoning?). "I
mean..."

"That's kind of the point," the girl said, amusement clearly detectable in her voice despite the
somewhat gravelly nature of the charm she was using, "giving this guy my virginity."

"Not what I meant," he clarified as she continued stroking him, "Look... I'm not an expert in
people, or girls in particular, but if there's one thing I do know, it's that if he doesn't know you
exist- you may as well not, to him. Find someone who does know you exist. They're out
there."

"Like who?" she muttered darkly, "If you knew who I was, you wouldn't care, either, Potter."

Harry froze, then shook his head, "You obviously know who I am."

She shrugged, barely visible in the light, something he could register more through just the
feeling of motion in the air, "So? I saw you through the crack when I came in. Knew where to
look."

"Only fair I know who you are, that's all. But I don't really care."

She shook her head, "No. Not happening. This isn't about my love-life or lack thereof, either.
It's about getting your rocks off."

Without another word, she dove down again, this time fighting to get him deeper in, though
she couldn't take much.

He sighed, enjoying the sensation, but...

It might take a while.

Still, as he'd learned before, there wasn't really such a thing as a bad blow-job.

Some fifteen minutes later, when, feeling guilty for thinking of Lilith and what she'd done
with her mouth just that morning to accelerate the process, Harry climaxed in her mouth, the
girl again swapped semen-laden spit with him, then murmured, "Mm.. Nice, more fruity.
Good. Now, unless you've got some other pressing concern, I should be-"

Harry held an arm across the door, which she walked into. "I do, actually," he said quietly, "I
feel like we didn't get a fair trade. You had a good climax, yeah?"

"Yes," the girl replied guardedly, "It was pretty nice."

"Mine was kind of... meh," he admitted, "I thought the first was better."
"You're bigger," she complained, "I don't know what you did, but it's harder to do well.
Barely fits in my mouth."

"Okay," he conceded, "Fair point, but still. I want to offer something to make it fair."

"What?" she asked again, just as carefully, and he thought he might have heard a wand
whisper out of a pocket of the girl's clothes as she reached down to adjust her skirt. Her
knickers, not present, didn't need any adjusting.

"Not necessarily now," he replied carefully, "you and me shag. Next year, before Christmas
Hols. Or... you tell me your name."

His own wand was already up in the darkness, ready for a spell. Probably a stunner, or a
shield to counter whatever she did.

"Better lose the virginity to you than the name. Bye, Potter."

Then she did something with her wand- he couldn't tell what- without saying anything.

Something that made his eyes water.

Just when he reached up to clear them, she slipped by and out the door.

The only feature he caught was a pair of goggles being pulled from over the girl's eyes up
onto light hair.

Goggles for seeing in the dark, he thought, Handy. Might need to get me some of those.

Definitely tastes like ginger, fresh ginger. I'll remember her...

"You're kind of hard to figure out, you know?" Lilith asked softly as she stepped into the
small alcove toward the back of the library.

"How so?" Hermione replied just as quietly though with obvious distraction as she kept her
gaze on one of the three books open on the small table before her, "Because I've always felt I
was rather simple to understand."

"Well," the succubus answered casually, glancing about, "before we delve into my
understanding of you as a person, you asked for a private talk. Can I assume you've put up
whatever protections you can against eavesdropping?"

Hermione nodded just once before turning a page in the middle book.

Lilith shrugged, not particularly in the mood to care if some of Hermione's secrets got out if
the girl in question didn't care. Not seeing another seat- no doubt Hermione had moved the
other one to let some other student use it while encouraging the same student or students to
leave her in peace- Lilith stood a few feet away and kept out an eye, instead. "I suppose the
largest conundrum is exactly why a girl like you is so easily encouraged to do more. I know
you love them both, and that's a powerful motivator, but most women your age are more
reluctant to be so... daring."

The witch frowned, "How? What've I done that's daring? Aside from being in love with two
people, of course, which frankly I don't understand, either. I just know that I am."

"And you will do anything, so far as I can tell, to please them, including eat me out, let me
eat you out, and so on, despite being straight as an arrow."

Hermione blushed, and for the first time in the conversation, her eyes stopped moving across
one of the hand-written pages. "I... I love them. That's most of my motivation, I think. And
because I can't choose, I... have to be ready to... do whatever it takes, I suppose."

"Mm. That makes sense, I suppose. Abused as a child?"

"What?" Hermione asked sharply, looking up at Lilith, who wore Ron's older form but
dressed in a facsimile of Ravenclaw's uniform, sans the robes, "No, I wasn't abused."

"Bullied, then," Lilith decided, and smirked when Hermione drew in another breath to
protest, then let it exhale slowly without saying anything. "Don't be offended, it was an
obvious guess, and I thought it more likely than the abuse anyway. Anyone would be able to
tell that a pretty, smart girl like you who spent more time with their books than people would
be picked on. It also explains the eagerness to please- you want to keep your friends
desperately."

"I thought you said I was hard to figure out," Hermione said with a frown, "but it seems like
you know a lot."

"Guesswork, mostly, just a little actual deduction. Still doesn't explain a few things, though.
Why so far? By all accounts, Lavender Brown is one of the easiest girls in your year, yet she
has had just one cock in her mouth, and is also straight. Yet you, the bookworm, were eager
for three."

"How do you- how do you know that?" Hermione whispered quietly, turning pale.

"My Bond," Lilith answered with another shrug, "we've just started being able to speak
mentally- and you should keep that quiet, because the strategic value is considerable- but I've
been able to view his memories for a couple weeks. What Master knows, you should consider
me knowing, unless I say otherwise."

For a moment, the succubus was worried Hermione would protest, but after a few seconds
the brunette shrugged, "Useful."

"Very."

"Still, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you," Hermione said quietly, turning back to the books
though she did not start reading again. "I... when I had Ron in my mouth, that first time, I...
Well, I came. Twice, in fact. And with Harry later, too. Just... The idea of it, I suppose.
Having their penises in my mouth, knowing I was making them feel really, really good..."
The girl trailed off, and Lilith watched, amused, as she got a sort of far-away, misty cast to
her expression, along with a faint smile as she continued to describe how she felt, "Knowing
that, with Ron, if I had my way I'd soon be doing it to Harry, and knowing with him that I had
already done it to Ron. That I'd be more than happy to do it again, and again... It made me
feel... naughty is a good word I think, but in... in a good way? Mostly, though, it was knowing
it was me making them feel so good. Like... like I was of use, you know? I... I know it should
make me feel cheap, or something, but it didn't, not at all, even now. When we were younger,
Ron would just sort of... use me for my brain and my help with homework. That made me
feel cheap. But sucking his cock? That wasn't his choice, it was mine, and it wasn't him using
me. It was me rewarding him for growing up, and- and doing what I wanted to do, too.
Harry... I was just too turned on by then not to want to, but as I've said, when I did it to Ron I
already knew I would to Harry. And..."

She went quiet again, prompting Lilith to ask, "So, does it matter if it's them?"

Hermione jumped, clearly lost enough in her thoughts to have forgotten Lilith was there.
"Er... what do you mean?"

The succubus grinned widely, "I mean, you clearly enjoyed blowing Ron and Harry, and I
know from Master that you had Dean in your mouth briefly, so you've thought about him,
too. So imagine yourself with that big, black cock in your throat. Do you like that?"

The witch didn't answer verbally, but the rosette was pleased to see her swallow and pink
deeply.

"Mm... I can tell you do like the idea. Maybe you just enjoy blow-jobs? Some women do, you
know. Sex is great, but for some oral is better. You might just be one of the types who truly
enjoys it. I know I do."

"I..." Hermione frowned, looking away, "I wouldn't say it's better. But starting with one and
ending with the other is... well, amazing. I can't believe Harry made me climax taking my-
well... my f-first time. A couple of times, really."

"Ah," Lilith replied matter of factly, "that's my influence on Master. Some of it's learned skill,
some his own natural talent, but most is Master gaining access to some of my power. We
aren't just amazing lovers ourselves, there is a magical component that heightens the arousal
and sensitivity of our lovers. Because Master is Bonded with me, he has some aspect of that.
It's unlikely he'll ever not satisfy someone sexually if he sets out to. Even an inexperienced
virgin."

"That's... interesting," Hermione pronounced, "and I have been wondering about that. I quite
enjoyed being with Ron, too, though. I couldn't even say one was better, not really."

"That's because our powers don't work that way. We aren't out to ruin our Masters for
everyone else. We can get plenty of sex from them without hoarding it all, so to speak. We
help ease the pain and increase the pleasure, but it isn't a significant amount of the latter- just
enough to make sure you enjoy it. If Ronald gave you the same amount of pleasure, then he's
learned his lessons well, much like Master has."
"Lessons," Hermione snorted, "I suppose that's one word for it."

"I mean lessons, though," Lilith said with an easy laugh, "anatomy, techniques, everything a
young man- any man- needs to know to please his partner or partners. Both were... very
attentive."

"I'll bet," Hermione snickered, "Look, I should get back to studying. Thanks for... talking to
me. It eased some of my concerns over... well, Harry summoning you in the first place. But...
can I ask you something else before you go?"

"Of course. Any friend of Master’s is a friend of mine, and they don't come much closer."

"Will you... look after him? I mean, I was just... so, so worried something had happened the
other night when we couldn't find him... promise me that, even if I don't know where he's at
and he doesn't want me to know, you'll keep an eye on him?"

"That's easy," Lilith replied solemnly, "I've been doing just that, and I have no intentions of
stopping. I can't fulfill my end of the Contract if he dies, and... well, I don't want him to die.
Some of that is selfish, absolutely, because his fluids are great tasting and very powerful, but
I do genuinely like him as a person, too. You have my word- nothing will happen to him that
I can prevent. And I pretty much always know where he's at in relation to me. How far, and
his emotional state, too."

"Good, that actually makes me feel a lot better. Thank you, Lilith."

"Thank you, Hermione. If anyone in this world had summoned me besides Master, I think I'd
want it to be you. I'll see you later."

Hermione had absolutely no idea what to think or feel about the Succubus' last statement, so
she pushed all thoughts of it aside after spinning her wheels uselessly for a few minutes, and
dove back into her work. Priorities mattered, and not much was more important than the
exams, at least to her.
 An Unexpected Occurance
Chapter Summary

Plots within plots, history repeats in a fashion not yet seen. What is simple is effective,
and something terrible is coming.

AN: I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories
feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains
in my stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of
the time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write.
Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death-
including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real
life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction
fairly without including them.

Hopefully a new 'final-ish' note:

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it
on FFnet. Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what
I've been doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if
you want to read more, just head over there.

Chap. 14: An Unexpected Occurance

Monday dawned bright and warm, signalling the true arrival of spring at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately for Harry and the other fifth-years, it also heralded the arrival of the second
week of Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations.

Starting with Harry's least-favorite subject, and the one that he felt would be most likely to
doom his hopes of becoming an Auror: Potions.

Yet, it was a subject he'd studied extensively over the weekend, and he had to hope that,
without Snape there (and apparently kicked out of the school), the last few lessons he'd had
with Healer Tonks would help his grade a bit.
It wasn't like the subject itself was horrid, it was mostly the teacher.

Or that's what a rather queasy Harry told Lilith when she'd offered to shag to help him relax.
"Sorry, Lilith, I... I can't. I'm afraid I'll vomit on you. Um... this evening, when it's all over? A
consolation... er..."

"Sure, Master," Lilith had agreed sympathetically, "Whatever you need. Um..." Then she had
leaned in conspiratorially, "Your friend Ron seems less nervous... can I...?"

He nodded, and Lilith, smiling, hopped across the room, invisible wings fluttering as the
others started to rouse, and slipped between Ron's curtains, drawing them closed. He heard
her whisper, "Silence the curtains," before all sound from there cut off.

At least one of us will be able to relax...

At breakfast, all he'd been able to get down and keep his stomach calm was a single piece of
toast, without even butter.

Harry felt numb with nerves and anticipation in equal measure as he rose with the rest of the
students when Professor McGonagall again asked for them to clear the Great Hall.

The written exam was about to begin...

The first few questions, he found, were relatively easy. Hermione had even covered the exact
same subjects just Saturday: the differences and similarities between the various words for
Aconite.

Question four: Describe in detail the effects of the Polyjuice Potion.

Harry grinned. Maybe this won't be so bad after all...

The Practical, unfortunately, had not gone as well. He hadn't melted or blown up a Cauldron,
like Seamus, or a Hufflepuff boy he didn't know, but his Draught of Peace was a little off-
color, and slightly more viscous than intended.

Still, as the middle-aged wizard grading him bottled it up with a smile, Harry felt he could
certainly have done worse.

The celebratory three rounds of sex with Lilith, while Ron and Hermione spent some time in
the Room of Requirement, were enough to put Harry back in a good mood before bed.

Care of Magical Creatures wasn't a subject Harry was too worried about, either. While, in his
heart of hearts, Harry could say that Hagrid wasn't the best teacher, he really did know his
subject, and Harry had always been interested. Maybe not in the Skrewts, but... it wasn't a
boring subject, by any means.

He'd been able to accurately diagram a Bowtruckle, feed an ailing Unicorn (though for 'bonus
points', he asked the examiner, a plump little witch that looked a bit like an older version of
the substitute Care Professor, Professor Grubbly-Plank, why the Unicorn didn't just have one
of its herd touch it with a horn to heal any disease or injury),

Among the other relatively easy tasks- though Harry had to wonder how common Fire-Crabs
were as pets if they were seen as a standard for care- Harry felt the thumbs-up he gave a
nervous Hagrid who was watching from his window (this being the first class he, alone, had
taught the subject up to O.W.L. level) was well deserved.

The half-giant's beaming smile made it worth all the stress.

Wednesday afternoon even more stressful. The day had begun with the Astronomy Theory
Exam, mostly dealing with tracking star-charts over the seasons and years, but with a
significant series of questions related to the many Jovian and Saturnine moons, none of
which, he was sure, were inhabited by mice.

Then, the one he and Ron knew they were going to fail going in, with no application of the
subject in question necessary:

Divination.

An entirely practical exam, it had been scheduled this way simply because of the open slot
created by the Astronomy Practical exam being held at night.

Harry was standing next to Ron, who had been called in just moments earlier in the
apparently random order the proctors were using now, and Harry's examiner was the elderly
Professor Marchbanks herself.

The old witch had no time for wasting, she had said at the outset while he sat across from her
at the small table she occupied, then instructed him to read her fortune with cards, then tea
leaves- she had been predicted to meet a dark, soggy stranger, for which Harry felt a little
ashamed at his lack of imagination- then read her palm. It had been an honest mix-up. How
was he supposed to remember, in the heat of an all-important exam, which of the lines was
the heart and which the head? At any rate, it had lead to him predicting Professor
Marchbank's death the previous Tuesday.

All of this, though, was nothing compared to the failure of the crystal ball, where all he'd
been able to conjure up was, "Erm, I never have seen anything in a Crystal Ball, Professor."

"At least some honesty from you," Marchbanks had sniffed, "Very well, off you go."

Ron had followed disconsolately some ten minutes later, "Well, we were never going to get
that one right... making it up as we go. Should have known."

"Probably," Harry conceded, "Um... same as last night?"

Ron shrugged, "I don't know. Hermione's... she wasn't really into it. Stress. Arithmancy's
coming up..."
"Mm," Harry grunted, glancing around. He wasn't even particularly randy at the moment, but
what else was he going to do until dinner? Study for History of Magic? Right...

The problem was, most of the girls Harry would have found available were either in class if
in younger or older years, or still doing examinations.

So he sighed, "I guess I can talk to Hermione, but we do have History tomorrow... and we're
both pretty tired. Maybe an early night?"

Ron frowned, "Yeah, I s'pose... study then bed by eight. Get some rest in- last exam for us,
right?"

"Well, Astronomy's practical," Harry reminded him.

"Oh, yeah... right. Late night, shite."

"Language, Mr. Weasley, one point from Gryffindor," a harassed-looking Professor Flitwick
called as he hurried past.

Both boys sighed... it could have been worse.

The Astronomy Practical did not have anything special about it, and Harry felt he'd done
reasonably well, though he'd missed at least two moons in Ganymede and Callisto and
merely left them blank on his star-chart, unable to find either in the night sky.

Would he be docked if they were on the far side of the planet...? Hadn't his theory said at
least Ganymede was...?

In the end, Harry decided he really didn't care. Astronomy was a subject offered at N.E.W.T.
Level, but he was aware that fewer than ten students took it at each year, so Professor Sinistra
just combined both years and alternated subject matter back and forth every other year,
freeing up more time in her own schedule while still ensuring both years got the required
education.

But he wasn't exactly planning on continuing the subject. He'd rather focus on things that
might keep him alive.

Thursday was a blustery, cloudy day when Harry woke, but it promised to be clear and windy
later, judging by the thin and increasingly thinner clouds scudding across the sky at breakfast.
They had just a few more hours while one more round of elective examinations was held,
then, immediately following lunch...

For he and the other fifth-years, it was the end of examinations.

The very last one. Or, as Ron said, trying to keep the atmosphere light for the tense students
waiting while the Professors rearranged the Great Hall, "After this, the exams are History."

It had earned nothing but groans and eye-rolls, but it did help in relaxing at least Harry.
The exam was hampered, he felt, by being tired from the previous evening. Being up past
nine was no way to get plenty of rest for a mentally tiring exam the following morning.

But he persevered, doing his best to answer question after question about more than a few
Goblin Wars, the Treaty of Belgium, the Warsaw Warlock Armistice, and even the foundation
of the International Confederation of Wizards.

Until the paper landed on his desk.

Unfamiliar writing, and the sharp-eyed Professor Tofty came over at once. "What's that,
Potter? Cheating?"

"No, sir," Harry said, pointing at the thing with his quill, "I don't know who sent that, but it
doesn't look related to the exam. Look."

In fact, while the old man reached to take the scrap of parchment, Harry tried to focus on the
test still visible below it, and started scratching out another answer about the formation of the
Wizengamot in Great Britain.

Then the paper flashed with a familiar, bright blue. "What's thi-" Professor Tofty began.

"Portkey!" Harry shouted, reaching out to snatch it from the old wizard's hand. A trap! It's a-

That was as far as he got before he touched it.

Just as the paper activated, and all Harry could see was a terrified old wizard and a blur of
whirling colors.

All around the Great Hall, students gasped in shock, and not a few adults.

Professor McGonagall was the first to reach the spot, and she, as acting Headmistress,
immediately raised her wand, "Hogwarts, activate Lockdown mode!"

As the doors, windows, and gates of the castle began to close, her wand lowered, face more
stern than any of the students could remember seeing it, and started casting into empty air
where the wizards had been.

When Flitwick and Marchbanks, the proctor, arrived at the now empty desk, all the professor
had been able to determine was, "A portkey activated, taking both Professor Tofty and Mr.
Potter. I'm not sure where."

Hermione, Ron, and several other students shared a look of deepest concern, one mirrored by
most of the adults.

Harry and Professor Tofty, however, had the briefest of moments when they arrived before
two identical jets of red light hit them and they knew no more, though the spells were not
incanted at the same time.
Harry had only the time to see the streak of red light, and hear a male voice call, "There's
another-" before all he saw was darkness.

Professor Tofty, unfortunately, saw and recognized the faces of a few former students in the
light of that first, red spell, and in his old age, was not able to draw his own wand in time to
defend himself. He, too, fell to a streak of red.

When Harry regained consciousness, it was to pain. Not that of a Cruciatus curse, but the
sheer discomfort of having spent more than an hour tied in an uncomfortable position.

One he knew well, for he'd been tied that way before.

The surroundings, though, were no dark, misty graveyard outside a small countryside town.

No, Harry knew where he was. He had seen this in a dream before Lilith was summoned. He
knew exactly where he was: beyond the door he'd been dreaming of all summer and most of
the school year.

The Hall of Prophecy, in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries.

He was held upright, it seemed to his first glance, by ropes magically suspended in the air,
arms above his head, with ankles tied just as well, in the middle of a narrow hallway between
what seemed like infinitely high shelves full of dully-glowing orbs, some brighter than
others, a few that were dark, and even fewer that still had a bright glow, including one
immediately ahead on his right.

Below that one, like all the rest, sat a placard.

Harry J. Potter and the Dark Lord(?)

Given to A.P.W.B.D. by Sybill Trelawney

Shit, he thought, That's what Voldemort's been after... a fucking prophecy between and about
us. But why... why capture me and bring me here?

It wasn't a wonder to Harry who had done the deed, after all. Only one person had the motive,
and just as he'd known it was a trap from the moment the parchment had flashed blue, he'd
known who set it.

So much for ambushing him.

That was his last thought before Death Eaters, black-robed and masked, stepped out of the
shadows and darkness.

Even with mask on, Harry recognized the central, tallest figure by the long, silky, straight
blonde hair hanging down both sides of his chest. "Lucius Malfoy, what a surprise. Imperious
still holding, then, after all these years?"
At Hogwarts, Aurors had been called, the History examination finished early, with a
commensurate reduction in points possible to the time cut, nearly two hours.

The only person who seemed upset was Hermione, though that might have been because
Harry had been kidnapped under their very noses.

Why had no one warded the place against Portkeys?

That was the question on everyone's mind.

It was so simple a way to get at someone, to remove them from every protection available.

Why?

Hermione, Ron, they didn't particularly care.

Nor did the rest of the D.A., who, under Hermione's and Ron's leadership, had assembled in
the Room of Requirement.

"You might've heard," Hermione said, voice projected through a sonorous charm, "Harry's
been kidnapped from the Great Hall in the middle of our History O.W.L. We don't know
where. Our first mission is to find out, through any means necessary. If we find out, we alert
through the coins- standard emergency call- and assemble here again. Once we find out, we
go and get him. Any questions?"

Several students had paled at the simple orders, but only one hand raised, that of Marietta
Edgecomb. "My- my mum's in the- the Floo Authority. I might be able to find out if there's
been any unusual traffic, or something."

"Do it," Hermione said curtly, leaving unsaid, but saying with her eyes as clearly as she
could, that any attempted 'sneaking' would be utterly and fully forgiven if she could pull that
off.

Others slowly came forward with idea after idea, and they were sent off to follow through in
ones and twos.

Half of the D.A. was gone, then, when the situation changed suddenly, just before the bell for
dinner.

"Mr. Potter... how nice of you to join us."

"Screw you, Malfoy," Harry said sarcastically, "Or don't- I don't think you're my type. In fact,
I know you're not."

"Such arrogance," Malfoy's voice came through clearly from the hole in the mask where the
mouth was, "Yet, I don't think it will last much longer. How simply did we get you, separate
you from all but the most meager of protectors? They don't know where you are- no one is
coming for you."
Lilith? Lilith, can you hear me?

Nothing.

Nothing from the Succubus, not even the faintest glimmer of her presence in his mind,
though the connection, the Bond, was there all the same.

Lilith!

From Harry's left, behind him, floated the bleeding and broken body of Professor Tofty, who
had apparently been kicked, hit, and occasionally hexed into unconsciousness, judging by the
bleeding and few broken bones.

But he was alive, if the shuddering, gasping breaths were any indication.

That was something.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Lucius said softly, voice measured and toneless, as if he was asking for an
ice-cream sundae or something equally harmless, "You'll take that ball there- with your name,
the bright one- and hand it directly to me. If you do, you and the old man get to live. We
leave you here to recover, and we go on our way. If you don't..."

The smaller figure on Lucius' right raised a wand in an unusual grip, high over her shoulder
and angled down, almost like a pen, and said with a high, female voice, "Crucio."

Harry winced, but the spell did not hit him.

Instead, Professor Tofty screamed, a high, gurgling sound, as his body convulsed mid-air, and
not with any semblance of pleasure.

The woman lowered her wand, and at once, the old wizard's screams cut off, replaced by
gasps and whimpers.

"So, Mr. Potter," Lucius said, even quieter than before, or perhaps that was just an illusion
brought on by Tofty's screams of agony, "What will it be?"

Lilith!

Not for one moment did he believe the Death Eaters would let he or Tofty go. The old man
was a witness, if nothing else, evidence, too.

Harry... Voldemort wanted him alive, but in his grasp to kill personally.

He knew that.

There was no way to walk out of here without a fight.

Lilith, damn it!

M-st-*-r? F**r a*w-y. W-re?

The thought was staticy, far-off, and as if through layers of water and air combined, but...
something. Hall of Prophecies! I'm in the Hall of Prophecies, in the Ministry of Magic!

Apparently he'd taken too long.

Or perhaps the third figure, between the woman and Lucius in size, squat but thick, raised his
own wand, "Percusso!"

The spell caused an almost bubble-like ring of air to shoot from the wizard's wand, impacting
Harry in the stomach hard enough to throw him back two feet, where he jerked against the
ropes and swung back, grunting in pain, all the air knocked from his lungs.

"Patience, brother," Lucius said, raising a hand to the other's wrist, pushing it down, "No
need for that. Let the young hero decide for himself. Give us what we want, or watch an old
man suffer. Either way, we win."

"No sport in 'at," the thick man grumbled, but complied.

"What- too weak to grab it yourself, Malfoy?"

Harry hated to hear the pain in his own voice; he really didn't want to show weakness to these
three and who knows how many others there were in the shadows, but that spell had hurt. He
didn't think there was much damage, and nothing internal, but it felt like one of Dudley's
better punches to the gut, after he'd learned to throw a proper one.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter, I simply wish to retain my sanity, that is all. You see, the only
persons who can safely remove a prophecy recording from the shelves are those it is made to,
or made about. Even your dear Divination Teacher could not remove it, though she gave the
very prophecy in question. Isn't that interesting? You, the old fool Dumbledore, and our
master are the only ones... hence, your illustrious presence in our midst."

"And you think I'd actually give it to you?" Harry snorted with real amusement, despite the
dire situation. He'd already partially forgotten to see if Lilith had heard, but somehow, he held
hope that help was on the way... somehow. Eventually.

If nothing else, stalling for time gave him time to think of something else.

"Oh, I know you will, eventually," Lucius said, voice snide, "Sister, dear, would you...?"

"Of course, dear brother," the female said, the wand coming up in the same pose. "Crucio!"

This time, Professor Tofty's screams did not let up for several minutes, while Harry was
forced to endure the innocent old man's pain vicariously.

"So, Mr. Potter... can I call you Harry? You see, now, there's really only one choice, here.
Because we all know you'll give in. So really, he's suffering for nothing."

Harry gritted his teeth, but said nothing.

Lilith flashed into partial visibility between Ron and Hermione. She knew no one could see
her right now, only Harry could like this, but the other two could hear her, and fortunately,
now both knew her voice. "Ron, Hermione," she hissed, "I heard Master's call. He's in a... I
couldn't hear it clearly. There's interference, and distance, at work. A... A hall, I think.
Prophets. Prophet Glee? I don't know."

Hermione, mind working overdrive, blinked at the sudden voice, then immediately
whispered, "The Hall of Prophecy, in the Ministry of Magic?"

"That might be it, yes," Lilith confirmed, "It's worth a look."

Ron frowned, "How to get there, though. That's a long way off."

In the gathered students, a girl with hair as red as Ron's and even a little brighter, raised her
hand, "Um, well, there's Umbridge's Floo..."

Hermione blinked, and ripped the page off the notebook she'd been formulating plans on,
then started a new message.

A few seconds later, she stuck it to the table with a quick charm, then turned to the rest.
"Right, off we go- if anyone asks, tell them to tell a Professor in..." she checked her own
watch, "Twelve minutes from now. In fact, tell Professor McGonagall- and tell her the Bird
Watchers are needed at the Hall of Prophecies. She'll know what it means. In fact- Dennis,
that's your job. Go find Professor McGonagall, give her that message, then do what she tells
you, okay?"

"I'm going with you! I can fight," the third-year cried.

"I know you can." Ron spoke over Hermione's and his older brother, Colin's, protests, "But
right now, this is more important. Getting help from the Professors will save us if we get in
trouble saving Harry. That's you saving your brother's life, if it comes to that, alright? Go!"

The thirteen year old gulped, swallowed, then dashed from the room.

"Alright, you lot," Ron ordered, "Follow me!"

Lilith, of course, obeyed, only flying invisibly and silently above both he and Hermione. Her
Master would never forgive her if they got hurt saving him- and never forgive himself, either.

The mass of students behind them were treasured as well, but right now, it was just those two
who mattered the most.

Harry flexed his head, neck, and jaw, to work out the pain of his own Cruciatus curse. The
woman, whoever she was, was truly vicious. Professor Tofty had begun to mumble
incoherently, so she had switched to him.

But the orb still rested on the shelf.

Again, he screamed, and screamed, while knives twisted in each of his nerves, on top of their
simmering in a lake of boiling acid.

Again.

And again.

The fourth time, the woman growled, "He's got some tolerance, I have to admit."

"No matter," Lucius replied, voice still calm, while Harry gasped, "He'll give in. If nothing
else... Imperio."

Take the orb, the happy voice that washed through Harry said, You'll be so happy you did. It'll
be very nice.

Harry, though, had more than a bit of experience with this charm himself, if not casting it.
No, he repeated the phrase that had become his mantra the previous year, when the fake Mad-
Eye Moody had cast it on him repeatedly, until he could throw off the curse completely. No, I
don't think I will.

Harry's hand didn't even twitch toward the orb.

How could it?

The Death Eaters had not realized his hands were still both bound.

Harry laughed darkly- as long as they didn't think about it, he couldn't do as they wanted, not
that he would.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Hermione waited with baited breath while counting the
students coming out of the Floo in the otherwise empty Ministry of Magic atrium.

Fifteen.

Fifteen students, plus her and Ron, against an unknown force of Death Eaters.

Not good odds... but all Harry had.

Hopefully, Colin would be able to convince Professor McGonagall of the seriousness of the
situation, given what had already happened, and get aid to them as quickly as possible.

If not... they were in trouble.

The security wizard, Ron pointed out wordlessly, was not present as they passed to the line of
elevators going down into the Ministry. One more elevator ride to go... "Level ten," she
informed the group quietly, wand and eyes alert for apparating witches or wizards, "If you
see someone pop in ahead of you, stun first, question later. If it's behind- maybe see if it's a
teacher or Auror, first. Stick together, groups no smaller than five. Together completely, if we
can. Anyone know anything about the Department of Mysteries?"
No one raised a hand except Luna Lovegood, who said, "Rumor has it they're trying to bring
down the Ministry from within. I haven't seen proof today, though- only yesterday. The
situation is fluid."

Hermione didn't sigh, only gave the younger girl a firm look, "Right. Be on the lookout, and
be ready. Don't attack if you can sneak up, though. Surprise is our advantage. Stay quiet."

So, in groups of seven or eight using three lifts they moved down, down into the Ministry,
straight to the bottom.

There, of course, they were forced to split up.

All the while, Hermione's lip was worried. Almost as worried as she was.

In fact, that might have been blood...

She pushed the thought away. She'd been so cold to Harry, and what if... what if he...

No, can't think that, she told herself, pushing on, marking yet another door of the spinning
room with a flaming X.
 Battle Damage
Chapter Summary

The Battle at the Ministry. Friends and Foes alike shall fall.
This is not an easy read... because war is hell.

AN: I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories
feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains
in my stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of
the time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write.
Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death-
including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real
life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction
fairly without including them.
This particular chapter has a great deal of violence and character death, on both / all sides. It
is not pleasant to read. Friends and enemies both suffer.
Just be warned.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Chap. 15: Battle Damage

Harry grunted, then sighed out loud in visceral relief when he felt the Bond strengthen
tenfold as if cables were being wrapped around it tightly. Master, I'm here. We- Hermione,
Ron, and a few others- are in the Hall with you. What Row...?

I don't know, he thought, I can't s- see. Be careful. Probably hiding, a lot of them. Three I can
see, one- victim. Professor Tofty.

A few seconds passed, Alright, I told your friends. They seem resolved. Good trait. Be
patient- stall if you can. We're coming.

Harry, though, had had enough stalling. Knowing his friends were close, even in the same
cavernous room, gave him a strength he hadn't felt just seconds before. "You know one
reason I won't give you the damned orb?"
Lucius took off his mask, moving slowly and deliberately, then stepped up to Harry, looking
directly into his eyes in the dim light, "Why is that, Potter?"

"My hands are still tied."

The Death Eater blinked, then frowned, hissing, "Idiot..."

A wave of his wand later, Harry collapsed bonelessly to the ground. Before he could react, he
was hit with another spell, one that sliced his cheek clear through- Harry could taste blood on
the inside, and felt a familiar wash of cold air through the pain, which helped solidify, in a
weird way, his thoughts.

"Now, Potter... enough stalling. The orb, if you please."

He struggled to his feet, hand brushing across his pocket. There was no wand, of course.

Slowly, he reached for the sphere, brushing his hand across it. "Mm... how about no?"

The squat man didn't resort to a spell this time. Instead, he yanked Harry's head back by the
hair, the other pressing the wand into his carotid artery, "You'll do as yer told, boy. We're only
gettin' warmed up, see? Grab it."

"Now, now, husband," the woman cooed, "Perhaps we should play... nicer."

Husband... brother... that's Bellatrix Lestrange, which means this is Rudolphus behind me.

The information meant something, he was sure.

What, he couldn't quite tell.

The situation, not least the wand prodding his neck, were a bit distracting.

The once-gorgeous but now wasted woman who pressed her body against him were less so,
but not with out notice.

"So, little Potter boy," Bellatrix whispered into his ear through the mask, "Do you like to
play? Does the pain excite you, like it does with me?"

"Can't say it does," Harry grimaced, fighting the urge to strike physically at her or her
husband, both of them entirely too close for his comfort.

"Shame," she whispered, then, louder, "Lucius... I'm randy. Since Rudolphus can't help me
anymore, will you?"

"I don't know why you think you're still prettier than my own wife," the blonde wizard said
cruelly, "But no, I'm busy. Perhaps... perhaps in a few minutes. After we've.... gotten what we
came for."

"Mm, that sounds nice," Bellatrix cooed, running a hand down Harry's chest, "Maybe we can
play with Potter, too. Our Lord will give us a gift, yes?"
"Not my- my thing," Lucius said with a swallow as he approached the witch from behind.
Harry thought he might have felt a hand slip around her waist, between her and Harry, but he
couldn't be sure.

E- Eww...

I'm here. Master, and they're heavily dosed with Fog... not sure what else I can do and stay
hidden. Your friends are just seconds away... I think. What's the plan?

Harry frowned, hand still hovering near the orb, body aching with remembered agony
already. More... can you do more? Get Lucius and Bellatrix more distracted?

There was a brief pause, then Lilith's voice echoed in his head again, Probably. Not without
becoming visible, though. And you should know, there are a lot more of these robed folk
around than you can probably see. Fifteen, I think.

This conversation, mental rather than verbal, took just a few seconds. Harry swallowed as
Rudolphus Lestrange's wand twisted further into his neck. "Al- Alright," he murmured
quietly, not really having to fake the stress and tension in his voice.

Friends on the way or not, fifteen adult witches and wizards with a penchant for cruelty and
the Dark Arts were about to be swarmed by... some number of his friends.

It would be a slaughter, and Harry wasn't going to be on the winning side.

He had to do something drastic.

His shaking fingers closed around the ball. It was surprisingly cool despite the radiant light
coming from it, and very smooth. Yet, as he lifted, there was no problem keeping his grip.
Slowly, the hand and arm withdrew from the shelf while he felt the heft.

Just a few pounds at most, not really an effective weapon, and he didn't know how hard it
was.

In fact, the only weapon he could see... Lilith, I need a wand. Mine, if you can find it, but if
not- the one in my neck will work. Stay invisible.

He slowly turned, arms slightly spread in a hopefully-subtle attempt to get Bellatrix and
Lucius to back away, give him some room to move. Rudolphus, though, stayed on him, the
way Harry had turned meant only that his enemy's arm was no longer wrapped around his
neck, but jointed between them.

"There you go, Potter... that wasn't hard, was it? Now, if you please..."

Harry swallowed, then held out the prophecy orb over Lucius' outstretched hand.

It was at that exact moment that, as far as even Harry could detect, some unseen force yanked
the wand jabbing into Harry's neck upward, causing a painful scratch with the tip against his
jaw and cheek, then, the moment it left the wizard's grasp, spun end-over-end and down into
Harry's empty right hand.
The left hand, already outstretched, dove up and forward, the knuckles crashing into the chin
of Lucius Malfoy.

The orb absorbed some of the force, and the adult wizard most likely outweighed Harry by
thirty pounds or more, but he still staggered back from the sudden impact.

Before he could formulate any further plan, things blurred into motion for Harry, and there
was no thinking.

From his left, the wizard whose wand he'd apparently stolen grabbed for his neck with both
hands, but he was already out of reach, dashing out of Bellatrix's range, too, to shoulder-
check Lucius Malfoy.

The heavier blow knocked the blonde man, already off balance, from his feet, crashing back
into the shelf on the opposite side of the walkway, which sent several shelves full of orbs
crashing to the floor in a terrible symphony of shattering glass and dozens of solemn,
shrieking, or madly gibbering voices.

The chaos, unfortunately, was not enough.

"Incarcerous," Bellatrix lazily incanted as he dashed past.

The ropes flew around him, beginning with the ankles, leading him to crash to the floor.
"Finite!"

Harry scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, wand now turned toward the smirking
witch, who was still rubbing her free hand all over her body, as if unable to ignore her
arousal.

But it was not her that caught his eye.

It was the other masked, robed figures, eight in all, that he could see stepping out from the
shadows into the light cast by the orb he carried. Four ahead, four behind.

Shit.

Before any of them could say anything, though, spellfire erupted from further away, behind
him. Jets of red, green, yellow, violet, and more streaked into the Death Eaters behind him,
and over their shoulders.

The voices incanting those spells, despite the din, were voices he knew.

Harry turned directly toward the incoming spells, and ran into the darkness.

It was surreal, he would later recall, running through a tunnel of darkness illuminated only by
a painter's pallet of streaking light that winked in and out of existence faster than he could
track, coming from both ahead and behind, making it impossible for him to judge whether he
was making progress.
At least, with his eyes. Harry was able to tell, some thirty seconds or more later, that the
hastily-erected Protego shield behind him was failing, and that the position his friends had
taken was only feet ahead, while the sounds of the Death Eaters, most of them at least, were
receding.

He'd always been a good runner.

Then another spell cut across his shoulder from behind, opening up a gash there that would
definitely need looking at, but didn't feel lethal. He staggered once, then kept running.

As he blurred past the line of students at the end of the row of shelves, their own spell-light
illuminated in flashes the faces of Cho Chang, Anthony Goldstein, Alicia Spinnet, and
Zacharias Smith.

"Thanks," Harry called, then whirled to fight, too.

"No, Harry," Anthony said firmly, looking away from the corridor where increasing fire
continued coming in, "We've got orders from Hermione! You have to get back to the circular
room with the doors- you'll know it when you see it. That's the rally point- go! We'll hold a
few seconds, then follow!"

Before he could formulate a response, Harry had already sent three spells, one Stupefy and
two Expelliarmus charms, down the way. "No! You come with me, or-"

"Go, Harry!" Alicia cried, wincing as a spell cut into her upper left arm, making her drop her
wand and grab the gash instinctively. A moment later, though, she'd shaken her head, bent to
drop the wand, and stood back up, casting again. Between spells, though, she winked and
mouthed blowing a kiss, "Go!"

"Ten seconds, no more," he ordered, then nodded, sent another trio of spells down the
passage, then turned and ran.

Why, he could not say. He wanted to fight- needed to fight, to ensure his friends were safe.

They'd come here for him, yes, but what was the point of saving him, if they were hurt, or
killed?

He almost turned back.

The only thing that kept him from doing so was Lilith's fluttering wings above him, and the
sound of four students saying at once, "Go!" to each other, then pounding feet as the spell-
casting behind him dropped off to next to nothing.

To his right, though, far away, another group of students lit up, casting furiously into a cluster
of dark figures, again lit only by their spells and the faintest of lights from the orbs.

"Get out of here!" he yelled, hoping the students would heed him.

Praying they would, yet knowing, somehow, that several would not.
Neville, whose parents had been tortured into insanity by the Lestranges and Barty Crouch,
Jr. If he knew any of them were there, he would probably fight to the death.

Anthony Goldstein, too, had lost family.

Most of them had.

Almost every member of the D.A. had a personal score to settle with one Death Eater or
another.

He couldn't blame them for wanting to fight, but this was not why he'd taught them to.

Or at least, tried. He'd taught them to so they could live.

"Harry!"

He skidded to a halt, the familiar shock of white skin and red hair, students he knew, through
the door on his left, more than the name, caught his attention. He turned back cautiously,
stepping around the door-frame even more carefully, wand at the ready.

There were no Death Eaters in the room. Instead, there were six members of the D.A: Luna
Lovegood, Ginny and Ron Weasley, Angelina Johnson, Hermione, and Neville Longbottom.
Each had their own wands raised, aimed at him.

No... over his shoulder.

"Get in here," Ginny said after a tense moment, yanking him forward by the arm.

She was half his size, so he didn't move far, but it got Harry moving, looking around, rather
than staring at the faces of his friends. "Glad to see you," he gasped. The room was mostly
circular, with dozens of doors lining it. The one door was open, and several had large,
flaming red X's over them, six doors were unmarked, and most were covered.

"There's others-" he started, turning around back to the Hall.

"Wait," Neville said, putting a hand on his shoulder, voice tense, "Hermione said we have to
hold this position. It's our way out. We have to wait for the others, and the room spins if the
door shuts."

Harry swallowed. Lilith, you get that?

I did, Master, she mentally replied, Not sure what to make of it, though. I can feel... most of
your group is here. It's... going to be bad. They'll be slaughtered, most aren't fighting, just
dueling. The Death Eaters aren't so kind.

It was as Harry had already surmised. Dumbledore's Army was not formed of killers. They
were students. Children. The oldest among them, Angelina Johnson, was just eighteen.

He stepped through the doorway cautiously, shaking off Neville's hand, but the other boy
followed.
"They're taking too long," he said, peering down the edge of the Hall he'd just run up.

Nothing.

There was another flurry of spells from across the chamber, which started a distant cascade of
shelf after shelf.

Then, four figures, crouched low, started firing from thirty feet away in the opposite
direction.

Harry could see four adult sized shadows in the red-green light, one of which dropped at
once, while two others raised a shield for the fourth to drag back and revive the first.

"You have to-" Harry wasn't sure what he'd been about to command his friends to do.

The thought had not finished formulating it when one of the two figures who'd raised the
quick shields incanted, voice low and raspy, "Confringo."

The orange-white light streaked out, not directly at the students, but at their feet.

The floor exploded upward in slow-motion to Harry, who watched, horrified, as Anthony
Goldstein's wand, hand gripped around it but no longer attached to his arm, flew upward,
spinning rapidly. Watched the same boy's knees, closest to the point of impact, disintegrate a
moment before the front of his torso did the same.

A little further away, Zacharias Smith, the most obnoxious boy Harry knew outside of
Malfoy, screamed as Alicia Spinnet's shoe cut through his torso, leaving a bloody hole clear
through, before embedding itself into the wall a brief moment before the rest of his body
impacted the same surface with a dull, wet thwap that was immediately drowned in the sound
of the explosion.

The rest of Alicia's body hurtled past Harry, who had only just begun to duck and shield his
eyes, her own, still living, but echoing with horrible pain she had just started to realize was
there, before her neck and spine caught the edge of a shelf. Snick. Then she spun like a top,
landing in a crumpled heap several feet down the row past the door.

And Cho... beautiful Cho Chang, quiet and smart and petite, suffered the least.

She had turned to face Harry, face full of regret, of longing, as the blast pushed her entire
body through the air directly toward Harry.

Then, half-way there, a stray shard of wood from the nearby shelf streaked by. Even in slow
motion, it was just a blur as it entered the back of her head.

A head which snapped forward, chin against her neck. Time resumed normal pace, appearing
almost break-neck with the lurch forward. The momentum of the strike sent the lithe body
into a tumble which ended at Harry's feet.

He knew.
They were all dead, all four.

Anthony.

Cho.

Alicia.

Zach.

Dead- because of him.

"Potter," one of the Death Eaters growled, "The prophecy, boy."

"Don't bother," another said harshly, "Accio Pro-"

In the time it took the unknown woman to speak a single syllable, Harry's world-view
changed.

Not drastically, but enough for him to draw a conclusion.

He had not been the cause of their deaths.

They had chosen to come.

Chosen to help him, when he had been the victim.

They had done what he had always tried to do.

Help. That's all, just help.

And they'd paid the ultimate price.

Harry James Potter had not killed Zacharias Smith, Anthony Goldstein, Alicia Spinnet, or
Cho Chang.

That Death Eater had.

Rudolphus Lestrange's wand raised.

Before he knew what he was doing, spells began to leave Harry's wand in rapid succession.
"Serpensortia. Confringo. Impedimenta. Depulso. Aranea Exema. Wingardium Leviosa.
Stupefy. Lumos Solem-"

He was not speaking with rage, though he felt a great deal of it.

No, Harry Potter was not having a problem, somehow, controlling his emotions.

He was not bottling them up.

He was pushing them out with every syllable of every spell.

The snake he summoned was a massive, ten-foot reticulated python. It charged forward at his
mental command, forcing one Death Eater into a rapid retreat.

The explosion was behind them, cutting the Death Eater off, forcing him to slow as he
changed paths, the snake that much closer.

The Impediment Jinx slowed another Death Eater who had tried to run and help his
compatriot. The Banishing Charm hurled another of the wizards into the fire caused by his
explosion. He screamed, but immediately stood and rolled out of the fire.

The Spider-Killing Charm, Harry had no idea he'd even cast, and it rippled into the ground to
no effect, though the remaining Death Eater leapt out of the way to avoid it.

He was still in the air when the Levitation Charm hit his robes, lifting him up, up, and higher
still.

The moment the red jet of his stunner hit the Death Eater, he let go.

Two legs, and possibly a spine, shattered when the man hit the ground, though, stunned as he
was, no sound left the man's mouth.

The last...

Blinding white light erupted from above Harry, signalling, he hoped, that he was in the clear-
for now.

"Get out of here!" he roared, both to rally his friends toward him, and, hopefully, intimidate
the Death Eaters back.

Alicia, Cho... both girls he'd made love with in the last three weeks.

Friends.

Anthony and Zach, despite the Hufflepuff being one of the least pleasant people Harry had
ever met (and he knew the Dursleys) had a family who loved him.

Friends of his own.

Anthony, Harry knew since starting the D.A., had four siblings.

What would he tell them, tell his parents?

How could he face any of them?

Didn't Anthony have a sibling in Hogwarts, right at that moment? A younger brother or
sister?

How could Harry bare to be in the same castle as them for two more years?
"You didn't kill them," a hoarse Neville said firmly, stepping directly in front of Harry to stare
into his eyes, "Help me get- help me get them together. We should- take them back, if we
can."

Harry only shook his head, "Useless..."

"It's not useless," Ginny Weasley cried from behind him, her own voice choking with unshed
tears, "They died fighting! You just fought! Fight more, Harry! Help us!"

It was the last two words that broke Harry from his stupor.

Another door of the round room, behind him, had opened.

He whirled, wand already raising, but he had no clear shot.

Still in the doorway were Hermione, Ron, and Angelina Johnson. Probably the most mature,
experienced casters among them aside from himself, according to Hermione, those best able
to keep their heads.

Behind them, a Death Eater with the head of a screaming baby was throwing objects, but two
others cast from the far doorway of the room beyond, and it was to these that Hermione and
the others directed their fire.

He dashed forward, pushing Ginny to the side a bit, raising his wand over Hermione's head,
"Confringo!"

This time, he borrowed a book from the Death Eaters.

A shield went up immediately, blocking the two wizards from any direct impact.

His spell, aimed as he had, touched the door just above them.

It exploded, raining down debris and fire on both of their heads.

He panted, gasping, while looking around frantically.

"The others?" Hermione asked hurriedly, casting her eyes about too.

Neville shook his head, "Cho, Anthony, Zacharias and- and Alicia, they're... they're gone."

"Oh, no," Hermione sobbed, "This is all-"

The door to Neville's immediate right flew open, knocking him forward into the Hall.

This time, it was not friends who burst into the room.

Instead, it was a single Death Eater, robes on fire, though he ignored that as he retreated
backward. His hood had been knocked back, revealing a shock of thick, spiked blonde hair
cut short, though the mask was still on.
The intense spellcasting forcing the Death Eater, who was wildly casting the Killing Curse
away from the group, seemed to be coming from just two witches: Hannah Abbot and Susan
Bones.

One green light nearly ended the life of the red-headed girl, who ducked with a quiet scream.

Her friend roared, casting even faster, as the Death Eater took another step back.

Harry was not surprised by the Death Eater walking blindly into their group. His mask was
on, and likely he couldn't see them because of the narrow eye-holes.

So when he stepped back into Harry's wand, he froze briefly.

In the time it took Harry to say, "Stupefy," knocking the wizard out, four hexes from Hannah
and two from a renewed assault via Susan, had struck him.

Ducks really shouldn't be that color of puce.

Nor should they have webbed fronds instead of wings, or caterpillars for feet.

Nor the fetid odor that most reminded Harry of one of Dudley's 'used' socks.

The two girls sobbed with relief when they rejoined the others.

"Who are we still missing?" Ron asked, using his tall form- the tallest in the room, aside from
Angelina- to count heads.

Several people present began to cry silently. Harry watched, helpless, furious beyond belief
as they came to realize the same thing he had moments earlier.

Four of them had died, trying to save him.

"We have- we have to stick together," Hermione said between sobs, "Safety- safety in
numbers. Gather everyone up, and run."

Ron started naming names, "We need Colin, Dean, Katie, and Lee's group, pretty sure they
went into the room with the tank of- of brains. Lavender, Parvati, Padma, and Ernie's, I think
they went into that room with the archway, right? And- Michael Corner and Terry Boot and
Justin Finch-Fletchley, they all went..."

Angelina, perhaps the calmest of them, though she, too, was crying openly for the loss of one
of her closest friends, said, "Into- they went into the offices area. I don't- we didn't mark that
door."

Harry's heart fell, but he knew what he had to do. "Alright," he said firmly, "You all stay here.
I'm going to bring them back."

Before they could protest, he had picked a door, gestured at Hermione, and said, "Mark it,"
then stepped through. He did not have the emotional strength to protest when Ron and
Neville followed him, wands raised.
He stepped into the room that the first group must have entered, because the first thing he
noticed was a cube-shaped tank ten feet on a side filled with what looked like nothing other
than the brains of intelligent humanoids, were it not for the long tendrils of wispy, almost
jellyfish-like tentacles trailing from each of them, the tank lit softly from within by some
faint, pink light, the only source of it in the room.

A quick scan revealed no Death Eaters, and no signs of battle. The only other furniture was a
single table on the left side as they entered, which had two stacks of parchment and a self-
inking dicta-quill hovering over the blank piece of parchment between them.

"Don't hesitate," Harry murmured quietly, "And take anyone in a mask down. Don't let them
get back up."

Ron and Neville, behind Harry's back, shared a look, but nodded at each other. "Right, mate,"
the taller of the two said, "L- Lethal, or just hard to remove?"

"Don't care," Harry shook his head as he stepped forward, "But I'm not letting them kill any
more of my friends."

Ron sent a single glance backward at Hermione, who looked to be conflicted as she watched
them go. Wanting to accompany them, make sure they were safe. To stay back, guard the
others. Herself. As well, to be merciful, not to kill at their tender ages. And, at the same time,
filled with a very similar rage to what he, and Harry, must have been feeling.

A need to put them down. All of them.

Not even truly a need for revenge, but a sheer need for survival.

Neville, for his part, did not look, though he did skirt to the edge of the table and take a
moment, while Harry cautiously stepped around the other side of the tank looking up at it, to
read the topmost filled parchment. "It's... a record of memories, I think. Don't touch the tank.
If- if that's what my Gran thinks they are, they're really dangerous."

Ron's hand was yanked back at once, half-way to the glass. He swallowed, then followed
Harry toward the door, Neville catching up a moment later.

Harry opened the door with a soft click, just a crack, then listened. All was quiet. He was
about to step in, when Lilith made herself known yet again. There's someone in there, Master.
Three females and a male, one of the females is in pain. They're hiding.

Harry swallowed, sending back, No one else?

No, just those four. The adults in the area- your Death Eaters, I think- are pretty much only
sending emotions of anger and desire for control and power. They aren't afraid of you all.

"Maybe they should be," he murmured under his breath, then, a little louder, "L- Lavender?
Parvati, Padma, Terry?"

Ron's hand on his shoulder made Harry jump, "Ernie. Any of you there? It's Ron, Harry, and
Neville."
A moment later, from behind a work-desk on the far right corner, Harry could hear the word
lumos, followed at once by a single soft, white glow. "We're here, yes," one of the girls said.
Harry thought it might have been Parvati, but it was so quiet he couldn't tell.

He started leading the way across the room, his own wand still up cautiously, scanning for
threats.

Because of that, alone, Harry was able to react before the others when a door on the left side
of the room burst open with a gout of flame, four figures as tall or taller than himself clad in
black robes with masks flowing in through the now open hole, all with wands up. "Found
'em!" one hoarse, rough male voice called, "We got 'em in the 'eads office! Potter, and some
others!"

As soon as that Death Eater finished speaking, the shorter of the four, a woman with a
cracking, raspy voice, ordered, a little quieter, "Drop yer wands, you lot, or you'll all be
sorry."

Harry did not hesitate.

They were outnumbered, outgunned, certainly.

But he was not letting them hurt his friends, not again.

"Depulso Desks!"

Three of the four large pieces of sturdy wood hurtled across the room at the doorway,
crashing into the knot of Death Eaters. "Run," he shouted, then immediately returned to
sending spell after spell toward the other door.

Ron followed suit, while the black-haired boy instead hurried toward the huddled group of
now-exposed teens in the other corner behind them. "Padma, is she-"

"She'll- she'll be alright," Parvati said quickly, helping her twin to her feet, where the
Ravenclaw staggered slightly, clutching at a hastily-bandaged right arm, "Which way?"

"Out the way we came in," Neville answered, "Straight through- don't get near the tank. It's
just the next door."

"We were that close?" Ernie muttered sourly, "Should- should we stay?"

"No," Harry shouted, "Get to the others!"

Were the Death Eaters not disoriented by his opening move, Harry knew they would already
have lost, but the tangle of hands, arms, wands, and legs trying to hit Harry, Rons, and the
others through the desks which still lay half atop several of the Death Eaters and entangled
the rest were the only things helping them.

Lilith, he thought hurriedly, Can- can you do anything? Like, to k- kill them?

Her response was immediate. I was waiting for you to ask, Master. Hold tight.
A moment later, he felt her small form wrap around his, and then they vanished into a puff of
smoke.

Ron gasped, but the others didn't notice as they hurried for the door, though Neville, having
escorted them that far, turned and asked, "R- Ron? Where's Harry?"

The red-head could only shrug, "Don't know," as he continued to cast, fighting harder now
just to keep the enemy from firing back.

Harry, for his part, felt only the briefest moment of discomfort, not even really pain, as his
body expanded several thousand times, then re-compressed into its normal space in a
different location.

He took a moment to look around while Lilith released him, one hand lingering on his arse
for a moment. He was now in a large, low-ceilinged room lit by several hundred candles, four
or five on each desk which sat in long rows, split only by waist-high cubicle walls.

To his right, a blasted-open doorway barely concealed several Death Eaters, all looking in the
other direction.

His wand raised without thinking, but a soft hand on his pushed it down. Let me, Master, so I
can show you can I can do.

Harry hated it, he wanted to kill them all himself. But Lilith, as always, expressed so much
confidence in what she could do that he had to respect her wishes.

She hazed into semi-transparent existence, and he watched as her body changed. Just as semi-
clothed as before, Lilith grew taller, until she towered over him at nearly seven feet tall, long,
lanky, but curvy still, further accentuated by another joint appearing in her legs that twisted
her pelvis back, arching her chest forward even more. Bone extended from her feet until she
seemed to be walking on stilletto heels, were the pointy bits made from her own leg bones,
similar growths extending from her elbows, and the luxurious nails that created the
occasional delightful scratch on his back, too, lengthened to two-inch, razor-sharp claws. The
little wings unfurled, expanding to six feet or more each, the little joints and fingers of the
wings growing claws of their own.

Finally, a whip-handle appeared in one hand as she reached the doorway, blackened leather
from some creature that did not look like a cow or deer, from which a lash of intense purple
flame began to lick and lengthen.

The whip wrapped first around the neck of one Death Eater, whose hands rose to his neck
even as it began to burn and blacken. Lilith yanked backward, and a moment later, the head
fell from his shoulders, the body collapsing right after.

Lash of Flame... hard to do. Probably my strongest single attack. It's very tiring, and I can't
keep it up long.

Even as she finished explaining, the whole process taking but a moment as the Death Eaters
only just noticed one of their number had fallen, the flames vanished.
Lilith's form, still invisible to others, blurred into motion, faster than Harry could really
follow. A moment later, one clawed hand had wrapped around the neck of the shorter, squat
woman and began to squeeze, choking off any ability to cast spells, while her body twisted
sideways, standing on one foot while the other drove behind her and up, the bone heel
catching the hoarse, equally short Death Eater in the abdomen, and slashing downward,
opening up his intestines and even genitalia to splatter onto the stone floor.

Harry fought to keep down his bile, even as Lilith withdrew her foot and let her other hand
punch, fingers and claws extended, into the woman's gut, up underneath her ribs.

There was a burst of light from the woman's throat and mouth, and when Lilith withdrew the
hand, it was covered in smoking gore.

Flameclaw. Not nearly as strong, but if you can get a vulnerable spot, it can do a lot of
internal damage. She's dead.

Then Lilith let go, the body the third to hit the floor, though Harry thought the man she'd
eviscerated and at least partially emasculated might survive, with the help of immediate
magical healing.

And finally... Her wings enveloped, one each, the last two Death Eaters, even while she
stepped between them and pressed the palm of each hand against their chests.

Then she withdrew, and both stood there, stunned, not casting.

Over the wreck of the desks, Harry saw Ron, too, watching in horror at the carnage, and
Neville facing away, retching.

Then the Death Eaters turned toward each other, as one, and raised their wands. "She's mine,"
both growled, followed by words Harry hoped he never had to hear again. "Avada Kedavra!"

That, Master, is Chains of Lust. Essentially concentrated Fog of Lust, combined with an
imperative to follow my wishes in return for promised... favors. Obviously, I had no intention
of granting them, since my 'wishes' were to kill the one trying to take me from them.

Both bodies hit the floor at once, and Lilith's transparent body returned fully to view.

Ron, too, suddenly turned a little green with the additional viscera visible on the Succubus'
right claw, but he did not look away.

Harry, in that moment, felt that Lilith, despite being more monstrous than he had ever seen,
might just have been the most beautiful creature in the world.

"Thank you, Lilith," he said quietly, then swallowed, fighting to ignore his growing erection-
now was not the time.

"It was my pleasure, Master, Ronald, Neville."

The boy in the other room coughed, saying nothing. Ron only muttered, "Holy hell."
"Indeed," Lilith giggled, then started becoming invisible to the others again. This time, as the
others knew she was there, she continued speaking aloud, "Shall we find the rest of your
friends? Take note- that's all I can do, combat wise, for now. Succubi as a general rule are not
known for making war, after all."

"That's all," Ron muttered as he started climbing over the desks and bodies, carefully
avoiding the remains of the Death Eaters, "just takes down five Death Eaters in about three
seconds, that's all..."

Neville stood, wiping his mouth, then turned and started to follow Ron.

Harry, though, shook his head, "Neville- I'm worried about the others. Stay with them, okay?
Um... if Hermione looks worried, find a way to tell her and her alone that Lilith is with us,
alright?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Neville nodded, then turned back.

Harry turned to his summoned companion, "Can- can you sense the others?"

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then nodded, pointing vaguely to the right,
"Somewhere over there. This place, it has a lot of confusing space-warping magic. I can't get
a good feel for location, but they're over there somewhere. One girl and three boys."

"That'll be Katie, Colin, Dean, and Lee," Ron said, before setting out across the large room.
"How'd you get over here, Harry?"

"I took him," Lilith said, "through my world. Or at least, the border-world. From what I've
read and heard from Hermione, it's a little like your Apparition, but the realms of reality it
passes through are different. If I had to guess- this isn't ego- your version folds space,
requiring you to travel through a smaller dimension, bringing you to the destination space.
Ours... is the opposite. Instead, your expand to become all space, re-forming where you want
to be."

"Same effect, different method, I get it," Ron said a minute later.

Harry was glad his friend understood, because he hadn't. All he understood at that moment
was getting his friends out of there before any more of them were killed, and utterly
destroying any of Voldemort's followers he came across.

Fortunately, they did not see any other Death Eaters before they came across Katie and the
others, who were skulking as a group through a room filled with shelf upon shelf of books
written in dozens of languages Harry could not identify, some of which that did not even look
Terrestrial in origin.

"Am I glad to see you," Katie murmured as she stepped from one shelf, wand up just as his
was, then turned to say over her shoulder, "It's Harry and Ron."

Three more exhalations followed, and the others stepped out as well.

Lee immediately asked, "Where's the rest?"

Harry and Ron shared a look, "Safe. Come on, this way," the red-head said, turning back.

Harry felt it was entirely too easy.

And he should have known better.

While the disturbed-looking group, Colin, a fourth-year, the worst off as he climbed over the
pile of corpses and desks, another door on the far side of the room opened. Harry and Ron
threw themselves down below one of the desks for cover, even as Lee Jordan helped Colin
over the desks.

The voice that yelled out was deep and strong, even cruel, "Stop, you! I got 'em, off the main
work-room! Bunch of ours are dead, too! It's the ones from the west side of the Hall of
Prophecy! Hey, you, I said stop!"

Lee, panicking, almost threw the smaller boy over the last of the desk, and started scrambling
up it himself.

A splash of familiar, sickly green hit the wall right next to Lee, showering him with debris,
but he kept going.

"Run!" Harry ordered when the dark-skinned boy, best friend of Ron's twin brothers, Fred
and George, looked back in horror.

He swallowed, looking apologetic, then obeyed, chasing after the rest as they fled to the
safety of the group.

"Lilith, can you get to him safely?" he asked quietly.

Her response was quick, "Give me a few seconds, Master."

Then, he and Ron hunkered down as no fewer than seventeen, eighteen, twenty Killing
Curses started splashing around the walls and desk as the Death Eater moved closer and
closer.

Then, they were abruptly cut off with a flash of flame, the man gurgling on his own blood as
clawed hands, burning with hellfire, slashed through his throat.

Harry cautiously rolled and peeked around the desk. Nothing.

Slowly, he started to rise.

Time dilated again.

A Death Eater, tall and thin, was standing atop the desks, half-way across the room.

A lance of purple fire, thin like Lilith's flame whip had been but somehow crueler, formed
from anger and hate, straight like a laser beam, streaked toward him faster than he could
move.
No matter how much he urged his body to.

Lilith, semi-transparent, appeared between them.

The lance hit her body, and splashed away.

"Oh, o- ow..."

Then Lilith collapsed, her body returning to full visibility.

"P- Potter!" the Death Eater yelled, even louder, "He's got some kind of- of female demon
thing! Took a hit for him!"

Again, he heard, distantly, the sound of the same curse being muttered.

"Confringo," Harry roared, wand suddenly breaking free of the terror that had held him in
place, "Diffindo! Expelliarmus! Diffindo!"

The first and second spells bounced away from a hastily-erected shield, the enemy wizard
forgetting his own curse half-way through, but as he attempted to retaliate against Harry, the
shield fell.

The wand, something dark and thick, flew from his fingers in Harry's direction.

The fourth spell severed four fingers on the wand-hand, and bit deeply into the man's right
side.

Without hesitating, Harry threw himself up into a run, Ron right behind to cover him. He slid
to a halt on his knees next to Lilith, who was, to his immense relief, scowling as she lay, face-
up, on the floor with one hand over a nasty-looking burn on her right abdomen. "Bastard's
spell hurt," she said with a wince, putting a hand over the wound as she forced herself
upright.

"I... I thought he got you," Harry gasped, panting.

Lilith's angry features softened at once as she shared a look with Ron, then down at her
Master. Aside from the positions being reversed as far as height went, Harry had not seen her
looking more tender, despite the situation, "Master, I told you... it takes a lot to put me down
for good, here. The most a normal wizard could do would be sending me home early. But
thank you for worrying about me."

Harry gave a shaky grin, then looked up, glancing around.

Ron followed suit, the blood immediately freezing in his veins.

There were no fewer than fifteen Death Eaters arrayed around the room, each with wands up
and levelled.

"Shit."
He had only a few seconds to panic, though, before one, then a second, group of Death Eaters
came under fire from behind.

Within seconds, things were over.

Aurors flooded the room, even as Lilith vanished from view yet again, returning to her
normal, small form and hovering as high as she could get over Harry's head, invisible to all
but himself.

"Wands away, lads," a gruff, rough voice that Harry was most relieved to hear, ordered as the
crimson-robed wizards and witches flooded into the room, "There's a good pair. You lot
caused a lot of trouble this evenin'. Best keep your wands away, and follow my boys'
instructions, yeah?"

"R- Right, Mad-Eye," Ron said with a gulp, stowing his wand at once.
Harry was a little more hesitant- he had dealt closely with a Polyjuiced Mad-Eye Moody
before- but the sheer number of Aurors in the room and, apparently, still casting spells in
other nearby rooms convinced him this had to be the real Moody.

If not that, then the worried, haggard expression of Albus Dumbledore as he appeared in
another doorway would have done it.

"Harry- Harry, are you alright?" the Headmaster- he could think of Dumbledore as nothing
else- asked the moment he came near the teenagers.

"I'm alright," Harry answered quietly, fighting to force down his fury. It was over... wasn't it?
"Ron, you good?"

"Yeah, I'm alright, Mate," the ginger said just as tense as his friend, eyes still tracking as
many of the Aurors as they could, while they swarmed the room, checking beneath each and
every desk, in every nook and cranny, sweeping for Death Eaters.

Four of them stopped at the robed, dis-fingered man. "Your work, Potter?" one of them, a
dark-skinned, big man Harry knew to be a member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix as
well as a high-ranking Auror, asked.

He nodded.

"Good. Dolohov caused a lot of trouble in the last war. Harder to cast with no fingers, though,
eh, gentlemen?"

Two of the others chuckled.

Moody stomped away, calling out to Dumbledore, "We found the rest of 'em, as many as the
Granger girl said came, anyway. Supposing she was being honest, the kids're all accounted
for, at least."

Harry's expression fell. "S- Sir, I... I'm sorry. I..."

A part of him could not shake the feeling that this was his fault.
"Harry," the aged wizard said quietly, one wrinkled hand rising to his chin to lift it to the old
man's gaze, "I want you to listen to me very carefully. This is not your fault. Your friends
chose to come, and Voldemort's followers chose to take you. If I am correct in assuming-
forgive me- that you did not choose to come here this afternoon, then you did not choose to
get your friends injured, or..."

"You can say it," Harry said quietly, "I know they... I was there. I know they're dead."

Ron swallowed. Apparently, part of him had been unsure of that last bit as far as Alicia, Cho,
and the others had been concerned.

"Yes," Dumbledore responded solemnly, "But again, you did not do the deed, nor are you
responsible for it. That fault, sadly, lies in the end at Voldemort's feet."

Harry nodded, not even half-believing it, though a part of him knew, as he had before, that it
wasn't his fault, that what Dumbledore was saying was correct. "I know I'm not, Headmaster.
It doesn't... make me feel less guilty."

The aged wizard sighed slowly, lifting a wrinkled hand to rest on Harry's shoulder a moment,
"No... no, it does not, does it? I am glad you understand, however. You've done well, all of
you. Come with me, if you please. We'd best be on our way."

For the next few minutes, Dumbledore led he and Ron through a twisting maze of rooms
back through a half-wrecked Hall of Prophecy, through the brain chamber again (though the
doors had changed), and eventually, back through the spinning room with all the doors- the
flaming doors were no longer present- and out into the dark stone hall, then, eventually, up
the long lift to the Atrium.

There, he saw the rest of his friends, most injured in at least some way, being treated by
Aurors or the green-robed Healers, while still others questioned them for every detail of what
had transpired. The entire time, Ministry officials, some appearing more tired or hastily-
dressed than others, continuously Apparated or Flooed into the Atrium, from Department
Heads to low-ranking junior staff.

Dumbledore remained a quiet presence, deflecting attention away from Harry and Ron just
by being there, for which the young man was incredibly grateful.

Eventually, what seemed like hours later, a portly wizard wearing lime-green pinstripe robes
and carrying a matching bowler hat in both worried hands, approached, flanked by no fewer
than seven Aurors, though he waved them off as he neared the three.

"Dumbledore," he began firmly, the Minister of Magic appearing quite cross, "What, exactly,
is the meaning of this? You have no authority to call my my Aurors, or to-"

"I have not called up your Aurors, Cornelius," Dumbledore said calmly, "I only came when I
was summoned myself."

"And who summoned you, then?" the Minister asked haughtily.

"I did," Moody answered from a dozen steps away, stumping loudly toward them, "When I
got a call from 'your Aurors' that several security charms had been tripped, and that combat
spells were being cast in the Ministry, including more than a few Unforgiveable Curses. You
have a problem with that, Minister?"

The portly man blustered, but frowned, no doubt aware of the many witnesses as, around
them, nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to listen in, "I- Of course not! But who
was fighting, anyway? These children should be at Hogwarts, not here."

"And they would have been," Dumbledore answered quietly, "Had Harry Potter not been
kidnapped. Kidnapped by Death Eaters that you have repeatedly claimed are not active, right
from the Great Hall of Hogwarts."

"I- that's impossible," Fudge growled, shaking his head angrily, "You can't-"

"Make a Portkey in Hogwarts?" Dumbledore interrupted quietly, "On the contrary, with no
active Headmaster, you can. It is a safety measure for evacuation of the students should the
Headmaster be killed in an attack. As I was removed from that post, and your own substitute
has since been arrested, Hogwarts has no Headmaster. As such, a Portkey would work very
well."

"And who knew that?" Fudge cried, "You? You alone, I bet!"

"No, several people in the Department of Mysteries, and the Auror Department's ward teams
know as well," Moody growled from Dumbledore's other side, "It's not a secret, Fudge, just
because you don't know it. Besides, how do you explain the Death Eaters in the D.O.M. if
you think Harry or Dumbledore cooked all this up, hm? Explain that."

Harry glanced away from Fudge's red face to see the crowd of people around them staring,
each hanging on every word one of them said.

"Death Eaters- preposterous! There's no-"

An Auror, low-ranking judging by the insignia, from behind Fudge looked down at the robes
and mask he was carrying, shaking his head, then held them up for the crowd to see.

Harry, though, saw none of that.

Instead, all he saw was pain. All he heard was agony. All he could taste was the screaming in
his mind.

His body, bereft of his control, twisted, his face looking up toward Dumbledore's. "Kill me,
Dumbledore," he hissed, voice high and not his own. "You seek to bring me low, to destroy
the rightful ruler of this world... through this boy. Well, if you want to kill me, you'll have to
kill him, first. Do it... if you can."

Around him, Harry could only just register Fudge and even Moody springing away, the
latter's wand raising to aim between his eyes, though no spell was cast, while Dumbledore's
hands, free of any such weapon, fell to his shoulders. Reflected in the aged wizard's bright
blue eyes and spectacles, Harry could see his own were no longer green, but a deep, crimson
red, as dark as blood.

Blood that he could feel leaking from his eyes and ears.

Pounding in his veins like his life-essence wanted to escape his very body.

And so much pain.

"Kill me," Voldemort taunted again, quieter now, "Kill me, and watch your hope fade."

Magic began to gather at Moody's wand-tip, but it did not leave.

Dumbledore only stared into Harry's eyes, and said, "Harry, I know you can hear me. You are
not that monster of a person. You are stronger than he. Force him out."

Harry, though, had to do no such thing.

Because even while Dumbledore was mid-sentence, a third voice filled his head. No,
Voldemort... you cannot have him. His true bond is with me.

The pain, at once, vanished. In its place, a feeling of warmth, of belonging, of passion, of
peace, serenity and lust, warm summer evenings and cool breezes, crackling fires and hot
cocoa, mown grass, wind in his ears with a broom beneath him, or a writhing, sweating body,
and...

He shuddered, blinked.

Looking up, in Dumbledore's eyes, his own were reflecting back once more.

"He's gone," Harry murmured.

"No he's not," Moody growled, and a kaleidoscope of color shot from the retired Auror's
wand over Harry's shoulder, up into the Atrium.

There, a dark mist wearing the snake-like visage of Voldemort coiled and writhed.

It jerked to the side, the spray of colors striking the ceiling behind it, causing no visible
damage but making the endless scrolling of golden letters and runes shake and shimmer, then
cease to move, before whirling around the room once, then fleeing for the nearest elevator
shaft.

Twice more, once each from Dumbledore and Moody, the same spell lanced out, but each
time it missed at the last moment.

Then it was gone.

The Atrium, for all that it was filled with several hundred people, was deathly silent.
"Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, "I would like it if you would take your friends back to
Hogwarts, see them safely to the care of Madame Pomfrey, and then return to my office to
speak to me. Can I ask you to do that?"

Numbly, he nodded.

"In the meantime," the elder mage continued, turning toward the Minister, "I believe
Cornelius needs a few things explained to him in great detail. You may use the Floo, I am
sure the Ministry can afford it. The phrase is, 'Headmaster Dumbledore's Office'. To return,
you will merely need to inform the gargoyle that you have a meeting with me."

Fudge immediately began to splutter and protest, but a hand from Moody on the shorter
wizard quieted him quickly, even as the one-legged, grizzled veteran began to guide his
former boss away.
 Post-Traumatic Stress
Chapter Summary

The aftermath of the battle at the Department of Mysteries, which is far more than just a
single revelation in the Headmaster's office.

Chapter-specific Warning: It deals with, well, Post-Traumatic Stress (in the immediate
aftermath of trauma). So trigger warnings for that.

I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories feature:
violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains in my
stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of the
time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write.
Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death-
including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real
life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction
fairly without including them.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Chap. 16: Post-Traumatic Stress

Lilith's strong, slim arm supported Harry as he staggered up the last few of the rotating stairs
and through the heavy oak door of Dumbledore's office fifteen minutes later. It had taken a
great deal of assurance from his remaining friends, each fighting to deal with their shared
loss, pain, injury and terror in their own way, for him to be convinced to leave them with the
school's Mediwitch and follow Dumbledore's request to meet in the Headmaster's office.

His own emotions felt numb, either blocked or buried under some great weight, his body
sluggish and exhausted due to, as Madame Pomfrey had described it, adrenaline withdrawal.

With a bandage around his left arm to cover a wound he hadn't noticed receiving, and an
ointment-coated plaster affixed with a sticking charm to his left cheek for a slice from a bit
of flying debris, plus dozens of smaller injuries, Harry carefully made his way over to one of
three soft, cushioned armchairs before Dumbledore's desk and all-but fell into the middle
one.

Lilith carefully positioned herself, one hand still on the hole in her own stomach, on the edge
of the chair, and began running a soft hand through his hair.

Slowly, Harry's eyes drifted closed, but he still felt, exhausted as he was, that sleep was a
long way off yet.

He had noticed dimly that the office itself was fully repaired, each of the objects damaged in
the brief scuffle when Fudge had tried to arrest Dumbledore back in its place, the shelves
intact. Even Fawkes' perch was back in its customary location, though the Phoenix itself was
not present as far as Harry could tell. Only the quiet whirring and low puffing of the spindly
instruments on the little table near the door made any noise as they sat. Harry's mind refused
to quiet, replaying every moment of time from the instant he realized the exam paper he'd
been given was a Portkey, until the argument with his friends, lead by Hermione, about
whether he should stay and make sure the surviving members were safe, or if he should come
to the office as the Headmaster had requested.

What could he have done differently?

How had he reacted? Well, poorly? Should he have acted, at each crossroads, at all? Too, he
watched again and again as four members of Dumbledore's Army, his friends, two of them
his lovers, were blown to pieces or killed by the random shrapnel of the same blast. Watched
the Death Eaters, all four of them, fall forever to his own retaliatory barrage.

This was not like Professor Quirinus Quirrell in his first year, nor the Basilisk and Tom
Riddle's memory in his second.

He had dealt death at his hands before, but this was inarguably different. Those times, both of
them, he had been fighting to save his own life. Quirrell, in particular, had died due to...
whatever that had really been.

Riddle, he'd meant to destroy the shade, or whatever it was, by stabbing the book with the
Basilisk's own fang. Yet, it had been a shade, or something, not a real person. Even a book.

The Basilisk, for all that it had, to the best of Harry's knowledge, only been following the
instructions of its cruel master, had been a horrid monster all on its own; one that even Hagrid
would hesitate to call beautiful (though Harry knew it had possessed a certain serpentine
grace before its death).

But this... those Death Eaters had been killed because he had wanted to kill them. True, he
had what some would call justifiable cause.

His friends, after all, had been murdered just moments before, and he had no doubt that given
the chance, the rest of his friends would have been killed, or worse, too.

Harry did not notice the tears running down his cheeks soaking into his shirt, but the
Succubus did.
There was little she could do, however, and she felt no personal remorse for the five lives
she'd taken. None of their hearts had been pure, to say the least. Each of them, in their own
ways, had been cruel, mean, petty, or outright twisted, evil wizards and witches. Anathema,
in other words, to her Master, and everything he stood for.

She felt no remorse at all in ending them, and likely never would.

This is the situation that Albus Dumbledore saw when he stepped from his Floo some twenty
minutes later, though the Succubus was not visible to him. His keen eyes did notice the
depression on the soft arm of the chair and the way Harry's hair continually moved, but
chalked it up to one of his less injured friends underneath a certain very special cloak.

"My apologies for being late, Harry," he said, waving a wand to brush the soot from his
robes, before stepping around the desk. "It seems that Cornelius was a bit more intractable
than I thought, and took a little more convincing. I think you will find however that in the
coming days the stance of the Ministry and the Daily Prophet will have changed a great deal
regarding the two of us, if nothing else has come of this night's events."

"Four of my friends are dead," Harry said quietly, voice shaking, "I think plenty has changed
already, thanks."

"I am aware," Dumbledore said, folding his hands together on the desk, looking down, "I... it
is not easy to lose a student, or anyone so young. Each of the nine times it has happened on
my watch has been the stuff of nightmares for me. That four of those times have happened in
one night is... I will not sleep pleasantly for several months, I expect."

Harry looked up, eyes blankly staring in Dumbledore's direction, but he said nothing,
seeming almost unaware of what he was looking at.

The old wizard took a deep, slow breath, letting it out quietly, "Though, things could have
been worse, I suppose."

Harry's face immediately took on an expression somewhere between utter confusion and the
deepest of rages, though it softened when Dumbledore continued explaining, "We did not
lose more. Your remaining friends that went- without and in fact against the express
permission of Minerva, I should clarify- to save you are, more or less, unharmed. That Mr.
Goldstein, Mr. Smith, Miss Chang and Miss Spinnet are gone is a tragedy, yes. But I must
remain grateful that we did not lose more. And, of course, that you were brought back to us
safely."

Harry nodded woodenly, again saying nothing.

"Harry," Dumbledore asked after several minutes of quiet contemplation, "Do you know why
they took you this evening, and why to that location?"

He nodded, even while Lilith slipped the orb holding the Prophecy into his hand, "For this."

He let it fall, rolling across Dumbledore's desk, the glass on wood the only sound until it fell
from the far side into the wrinkled hand. "Just so. I take it you did not hear the Prophecy
contained in the orb, then?"

Harry shook his head.

"Would you like to?"

This time, when he looked up, Dumbledore was unsurprised to see a look of iron-hard
determination on the boy's face.

"Very well. Before I show you, allow me a moment to explain a few points. Firstly, as you
may have surmised by the plate describing this particular orb, the Prophecy in question was
made by Sybill Trelawney to myself, and is in fact the reason I chose to hire her as a
Divination Professor, despite her apparent lack of ability in the subject."

Again, Harry said nothing, merely listened as Dumbledore started twisting the lambent
sphere in his fingers, eyes fixed downward on it. "It was made to me in a room above the
Hog's Head, the very pub that my brother Aberforth runs and in which your 'D.A.' was
organized earlier this year. It concerns, obviously, two individuals: Yourself, and the being we
have come to know as Lord Voldemort."

"I figured," Harry said, voice even and tightly controlled. Dumbledore, though, could see
what Lilith could feel: Harry was slipping, his control vanishing moment by moment.

So he pressed on, deciding it best to skip several points of lesser import for the moment, "But
it was overheard in part by a Death Eater, and it was that part which caused Voldemort to
target your family. Let us watch now, and I will explain further.

To Harry's surprise, though, Dumbledore did nothing with the orb except set it quietly on his
desk atop a thick stack of papers. It rolled perhaps an inch, then fell still again, while the
Headmaster brought his own wand-tip to his head and withdrew it, pulling away a thick
strand of faintly-shimmering silver.

Something he had seen before, even earlier that year, though those had been from Snape: a
memory. "My Pensieve, if you would, Harry. I believe you know where it is kept."

Surprised by the request, Harry jumped up from the chair, narrowly avoiding dislodging
Lilith, and walked, purpose giving him energy once more, to the cabinet on the side of the
room opposite the Sorting Hat, and opened it to withdraw the stone basin, bringing it
carefully to the desk.

After the Headmaster had placed the strand of thought into the bowl, he swirled it around a
few times, then touched a combination of runes that circled the outer rim. A moment later,
out of the silvery liquid, the ghost-like form of Sybill Trelawney rose from the bowl.

Harry listened in growing horror as the prophecy was related in the same terrible, fearsome
voice he'd heard her speak in two years previously.

When it was finished, the image sank, formlessly, back into the bowl. "There you have it,
Harry. The reason Voldemort sought out you and your parents was because he knew that you,
and you alone, had the best chance to vanquish him."

"There... weren't any others?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "I'm afraid not. You know, I am sure, that your roommate and
friend, Neville Longbottom, was born a day before you. He, too, could have been the one
named in the prophecy, but for one thing: Voldemort chose you. He marked you, not Neville,
thus ensuring that you were indeed the one destined to destroy him, if anyone can."

Harry nodded. His own interpretation had led him to the same conclusion. "No- no others,
though?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore shook his head, "Many searches have been done by myself and
others. No other magical child was born near the end of July anywhere within Great Britain,
or even Europe. There had been sixteen in that last week, world-wide, and none of the parents
came close to meeting the criteria of having defied Voldemort three times."

Harry was silent, letting that information sink in. It was vague, yes, but oddly specific in how
well it defined one person- him- without naming him.

"Neville is scarred, too, though," Harry eventually said, "Emotionally, I guess."

"I would agree," Dumbledore responded after a moment, "Yet no more or less than yourself,
if in different ways. It was you alone who had the physical mark however. It is worth
mentioning that in doing so, in marking you 'as his equal', Voldemort transferred, I believe,
some powers to you. Your ability with Parseltongue, for example, could be attributed to
Voldemort."

"Like I wanted it," Harry said bitterly, "Hasn't done me a lot of good."

"Be that as it may, Harry," the Headmaster continued, as calmly as ever, "It is like any other
ability- it is how we use it that makes it more or less effective. Apparition is not useful for
much if you choose to appear inside a volcano's magma chamber, after all, but is most useful
as a method of transportation for those able to do so easily. I can conceive of ways in which
the ability to talk to snakes would be useful to you, if you wish to use it in that fashion. Still, I
believe we've wandered far from the topic I wished to discuss.

"The Prophecy fragment that Voldemort has knowledge of, I believe, excludes the lines about
him marking you as his equal, and you having power the Dark Lord knows not. Do you have
any idea what power or powers that might be?"

Harry shook his head, answering dully, "No- I'm not more powerful than him, and I don't
know any magic he doesn't. Even the- memory, or whatever it was, of Riddle in my second
year... he was just sixteen or seventeen, and knew a lot more than I did."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore conceded, "But he does not know everything. There are several
lessons you have learned, and learned well, that I believe Voldemort never could learn."

"Like what?" Harry asked scornfully.

"Like the ability to love," Dumbledore said softly. "That same power that makes you grieve
for your lost friends, to kill to protect others so they are not lost... that power is something
Voldemort will never understand."

"Fat lot of good it does!" Harry suddenly found himself yelling, "Love didn't save Cho, or
Alicia, or Zach, or Anthony!"

"No," Dumbledore replied, remaining calm even while Harry watched one hand start to drift
toward his wand, "it did not. But that power did save you as a child. I believe it was Lily's
sacrifice for you, combined with some magic I am unaware of, that protected you from
Voldemort's killing curse when you were a baby. That power of love does help to save lives.
When you fought and killed this evening, you saved more lives. You taught your friends to
fight knowing that at some point, they might have to fight to protect those they love, did you
not?"

Harry did not answer, only continued to glare at Dumbledore. In his mind, though, Lilith's
voice echoed, He is right, Master. Love is a powerful thing indeed, and far more subtle than I
think anyone realizes at your age... or mine, or his.

"Regardless, Harry, I believe that, beginning next term, you should have private lessons with
me on occasion. I was mistaken, I think, in keeping the Prophecy from you for so long, and I
think you will agree."

"I remember," Harry scowled, "I asked you in my first year. You didn't say, you told me to
ask when I was older."

"And you have done so, after a fashion," Dumbledore said with a sad smile, "so I have told
you. Understand, Harry, the only reason I did not tell you then was that you were eleven.
Were you ready, then, to hear that your life must end in death, or truly begin with the death of
another? Even now, you wrestle with the idea."

Hating to admit it, even to himself, Harry nodded, "Yeah, maybe. But still- in the years since?
Why didn't you tell me then? If I'd known in my third year, Sirius would... Pettigrew wouldn't
have escaped, and Voldemort couldn't even have come back!"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore conceded, "Though I find that endlessly tracking 'what ifs' back
through time is an exercise in futility, both because it is often too late to change the outcome,
and because we simply cannot predict the outcome of any change with certainty. Regardless,
I have come to realize that, in my desire to protect you and give you something relating to a
normal childhood, I have done you a great disservice. You are a far more mature and good
person than I had given you credit for, and for that, I apologize."

"Sure," Harry snorted, "I don't feel like it right now."

Dumbledore actually smiled faintly, though he wiped a gathering tear from one eye, "Perhaps
you simply realize, as I do, that having an emotional meltdown would not be of use, would
not bring back your friends, and would not help to hasten the downfall of Lord Voldemort."
Lilith settled once more against Harry, both silent as Dumbledore watched him. Eventually,
though, the wizened figure asked, "Harry, I will not ask you to relive what happened this
evening, but is there anything you wish to tell me? Anything you think I should know?"

For several minutes, Harry was silent, then he began speaking, "Bellatrix and Rudolphus both
used the Cruciatus Curse on me, and on Professor Tofty. I'm... pretty sure he's dead."

Dumbledore nodded, "It was confirmed, unfortunately. He will be missed, he was a personal
friend of mine, as well."

"Sorry- I'm sorry for your loss," Harry forced out, though he felt, somehow, that having
witnessed the man's death through torture at the hands of a madwoman like Bellatrix
Lestrange might have entitled him to some sympathy, instead.

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said solemnly, "Anything else?"

He nodded, describing the rest of the events in fair detail despite what Dumbledore had said
about reliving the evening once more.

Saying it all aloud was both a bit cathartic, as well as one of the hardest things he'd ever
done.

In particular, Harry had choked at describing how Cho had died with a look of sad longing in
her eyes, as if she knew she was about to die, a moment before the wood had pierced the back
of her head.

He forced himself to continue though, only glossing over how the Death Eaters that Lilith
had killed were felled, implying that it was done in the heat of battle, and he couldn't quite
recall.

When he finished though, Dumbledore was looking at him with concern. "And, at the end,
when Voldemort attempted to possess you, as we both believe he has been doing with
Nagini? How were you able to throw him out of your mind?"

For a moment, Harry warred with himself, wanting to answer, yet...

"Headmaster, I don't- I don't think I want to tell you that."

Dumbledore looked up from the Pensieve with surprise, "And why is that, Harry?"

The teenager shrugged, looking away toward the fire for a moment. "I... you have your
secrets, and I have mine."

"I see," the Headmaster replied, "Well, then might I ask what I can do to gain your trust in
this regard?"

Harry scowled back in his direction, "Well, for one, you can stop treating me like I'm your
enemy. You say I'm important, that the Prophecy means I'm the only one that can defeat him.
Fine, that's alright, I want to be the one to bring him down. But if it has to be me, then why
aren’t telling me everything?"
Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, "Harry... not all secrets are mine to tell. I
have told you all I can without telling secrets belonging to others. I have been given trust-
surely you understand that I don't wish to break that trust?"

"I understand perfectly fine, Headmaster," Harry said, then threw the same words back, "And
I have been trusted with the secrets of others, too. I can't tell you how."

"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore said softly, his shoulders still down and forward, giving the
aged Headmaster an almost defeated look., "I suppose what is important is that it was
effective. You can, I assume, duplicate the feat if Voldemort is reckless enough to try the
same thing at a later date?"

"Probably," Harry shrugged, "It- it hurt, but it wasn't hard."

Then, thinking toward his companion, Was- was it? Pushing him out?

The reply was quick and easy, Not at all. His bond with you is definitely there, but mine is
more immediate- even with its link being right there on your forehead, mine is inside your
heart and mind itself. He won't be able to get in again either, unless I let him.

"I suppose that is for the best, then," Dumbledore agreed, "Though I do wish there were some
way in which I could gain- or regain- your trust without violating promises that I have made
to others. Is there anything else you wish to tell me, then?"

"I don't think so," Harry said, "But I'd like- I'd like to attend their funerals, if- if the families
will let me."

"Of your friends? Of course," Dumbledore said solemnly, "I will forward all information to
you and arrange for a detail of Order members- I think just two- for your protection, if you
don't mind."

For a moment, Harry thought of refusing the Order members, but decided, in the end, that the
olive branch being offered- even if it was just the 'if you don't mind', since he was sure there
would be protection anyway- was acceptable. "Alright. Um... I should get to bed."

"Just so. If you have trouble sleeping, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey can supply with a-"

Harry patted one pocket of his robes, though it was empty, as he stood.

"Good night, Harry. Again, let me repeat, I am sorry for what has happened. If I could have
prevented any of it, I would have."

"I know, Professor. Good night."

Then he stepped out, back onto the staircase that now spun downward.

While he waited for it to carry him, Harry tapped his own head with his wand to cast the
disillusionment charm, and made his way not to Gryffindor Tower, but to the hospital wing.
He had some friends to visit there, for once. But all he could think about on the long walk
was that he would much rather be in the hospital wing, no matter how much he hated it there,
than to see his friends there in his stead.

(O)(O)(O)

A glance at the clock near the door as he stepped into the quiet hospital wing told Harry it
was after midnight. They had, as far as he could tell, been waiting in the Atrium for the initial
first-aid and questioning by the Aurors for a couple of hours, far longer than the actual
incident had taken. Hadn't the Portkey activated at around... was it really only four o'clock,
that same afternoon?

Harry sighed as he glanced down the long chamber. Twenty-three students, his friends, had
gone to save him.

Nineteen had come back. They had, he expected, been gathered up by the Aurors, along with
the remains of Professor Tofty and... the other four.

Those they had lost.

Harry moved quietly so as not to disturb anyone down the long row of beds, marking each
face, making sure each was breathing, as he went.

Justin. Quiet and calm, he had been the first to make room when Harry had asked for a place
to sit and study weeks earlier. One of the first five, and the first Hufflepuff, to sign the
Dumbledore's Army contract. He had a bottle of Skele-gro by his bedside, and was sleeping
peacefully, but pale.

Next to him, Ernie MacMillan, who looked relatively uninjured aside from a few scrapes, but
who slept with a grimace of pain adorning his face despite the empty dosage-glass of Draught
of Dreamless Sleep still clutched in one slack hand. Ernie, Harry knew, had been right after
Justin in signing the paper, and the very first non-Gryffindor to openly declare their support
of Harry and Dumbledore. He had also been Zacharias Smith's best friend, and the two had
been close for some reason Harry could not fathom given Zach's general ill nature toward
him. Yet... he had died to save Harry, and Harry could no longer find it in himself to care
about the small slights of the other boy.

Luna Lovegood. Harry did not know what to think of the often-spacey fourth-year girl, and
she had seemed to wander into the first meeting of the D.A. at the Hog's Head almost by
accident. But she had studied as hard as anyone in the group, and had been ahead of almost
everyone in mastering the exceptionally difficult Patronus Charm. Endlessly cheery, if a bit
odd, she alone seemed to have come through the night without an injury, though she cuddled
up in her bed with, of all things, a stuffed lobster, a faint smile stretching her thin lips.

Angelina Johnson, dark hand stretched across the gap to clasp Katie Bell's even while both
slept, minor injuries on both. By far worse, to Harry, were the tears that still leaked from both
sets of eyes. The Flying Foxes of Gryffindor had, since before Harry had come to Hogwarts,
been some of the closest-knit friends he knew of. Now, their own trio was left with two.

What would it be like, he was forced to wonder, if Ron or Hermione were taken?

How could they not hate him, even if, logically, he knew it wasn't his fault?

Harry moved on, past Terry Boot, Padma and Parvati Patil, their hands, too, clutched together
as they huddled against each other, beds scooted next to each other. Past Susan and Hannah,
their beds close but not touching, the latter with a massive bandage around her head, though
thankfully she slept peacefully- it had been a bloody mess when he'd last seen her in the
Atrium.

Michael Corner, awake but reading by a single candle, who only gave Harry a firm nod,
saying nothing, but also, thankfully, without judgment in his eyes as Harry passed, returning
the gesture.

Colin Creevey, his brother sitting by his bedside, head on his arms, fast asleep as well, with
Colin's slightly larger hand on Dennis' head.

Dean, holding out a hand for Ginny Wesley, who had turned away, both quite asleep.

Ron... staunch as ever when it counted, had done quite well, all things considered. He had
only three large wounds that needed treatment, one from a piercing hex and two others from
the shrapnel of explosive impacts or missed spells, both on the left side of his face. He, too,
had moved his bed closer to Hermione's, and the two lay together, foreheads touching along
with both her hands clutched in his larger ones.

"Madam Pomfrey wouldn't approve," a quiet voice sniffed from the next, last occupied bed.

Harry smiled sadly, continuing past his friends, "I know, but they're... close. I wouldn't keep
them apart."

"Even though you love her?"

Harry stopped mid-step as he moved toward Lavender Brown's bed, then started again with
another glance back, "Because I love her, and him. Not like- well, you know what I mean. I
want them to be happy."

"You're a good bloke, Harry," the pretty blonde said, clearly fighting back a sniffle and
rubbing her nose in the moonlight coming from the window.

There was only one more bed in the room, which Harry moved to sit on, but changed his
mind, instead taking the bedside chair next to Hermione's roommate. He shrugged, watching
the girl cry for a moment as she stared wistfully at his best friends. "I'm not sure that's the
case, sometimes."

She shook her head, wiping her eyes again, and said quietly, "No, you are. Hermione... she's
amazing, we all know she is. She deserves someone like Ron. You- you deserve someone like
her. It's sad. I mean, I'm..."
Harry swallowed. What was she trying to imply?

"I fancy- Ron. I have for a couple years, really," Lavender confessed quietly, "But seeing
them, there, like this... they deserve each other. Me... I don't know. I suppose I'll find
someone that can put up with me, eventually."

Half-consciously, but wanting nothing more in that moment to help, if he could- he'd done
quite enough harm that day- Harry tentatively reached out an arm to put it on Lavender's
shoulder. "I think you're fine the way you are. You shouldn't change for other people. Only
change if you want to."

She sniffed, "But I don't. I know I can be whiny, and I'm probably needy, and I'm into
fashion, and gossip, and I know you don't like Divination, which I do, and you don't like any
of those things. So what are you going to do about it? It's not like I can just go out with you,
instead."

Harry was a bit affronted, but knew the girl hadn't meant it quite the way it sounded. Instead,
he parsed exactly what the girl was saying- and what she was not saying. "You don't just
fancy Ron, right?"

Slowly, not looking away from his friends, she shook her head.

He sighed. This is really getting overly complicated... "I don't fancy you," he said quietly,
causing the girl to hiccup and take another deep breath, but that was the only response. "I do
think you're very pretty. But I've... Lavender, I'm not someone worth a lot of attention right
now. It isn't that I'm not interested in witches- I am- I just... I am not the 'good bloke' people
think I am."

"Yet you're here, trying to make me feel better about having to give up on fancying your best
friend. Even after I sort-of admitted that I- that I fancy you, too."

Shaking his head slowly, Harry protested, "That doesn't have much to do with it. I'm sorry,
but... look at it from my point of view. There's a madman out there with a small army who
wants me dead. There's apparently a fucking prophecy about us, too, so it has to happen one
way or the other."

Harry didn't know why, of all people, it was Lavender Brown he was spilling these secrets to,
but he had to tell someone. Her gasp of fear, even horror, at what he was saying only made
the words come out faster, with even less of a filter. "I didn't grow up in a good home. My
relatives hated me. Gave me scraps, called me 'boy' and 'freak' more than my own name,
handed me only cast-off clothes and never a single toy. I didn't have friends, because my fat
oaf of a cousin drove them all away. I didn't know what friends were like until... Ron, and
Hermione. I didn't know I could have more people I called friends until this year, with the
D.A.

"I... learned there's more to life than death. More than studying and learning, more than just
screwing around, having fun. Other people have lives, and wants, and dreams. I lost my
virginity this year, and have been with a bunch of witches now. I like it, but it kind of feels
like it's taking over my life. Then this- tonight- happens, and... I lost four friends. I just got
three of those friends, and I couldn't really call Alicia a friend outside of Quidditch until this
year, so I kind of just got her as a friend, too. And... everyone could have died. I just... I don't
think I'm worth it. I probably wasn't worth risking your lives before I became a- a murderer."

The pretty witch sat in silence, watching him speak now, as he laid out his heart, confessing
almost everything he'd been up to the last few weeks to probably the least-safe person in the
castle to do so with.

Then Lavender surprised him by sitting up in her bed, reaching out with her hands, and
pulling him bodily- or at least trying to- up into the bed. He resisted at first. "No, I- I'm not
trying-"

But she overrode him, whispering, "Harry, come into the bed. Quietly, or I'll scream for
Pomfrey. Please."

In horror at how willing she was to blackmail him, Harry complied, laying down stiff and
wooden beside her. Lavender, though, did not do anything more than put her arm beneath his
neck and head, then curl against him with her other hand on his chest. "Go to sleep,Harry,"
she whispered, "And know that people do think you are worth it. Ron and Hermione do.
Parvati does. I do. Everyone in this wing thinks you're worth it. None of us have any regrets."

She said nothing else, but when Madam Pomfrey came to check on her patients at three in the
morning, she did nothing to separate any of them, not even the patient she'd gained during the
night without her knowledge.
 Strengthened Bonds
Chapter Summary

A bit more recovery after some significant trauma, talking about what happened.
Remembering those who died at the Department of Mysteries.
And yes, some sexual healing, too.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

You could maybe also find some original stuff by searching for my other handle, Kaja
Wilder, on the interwebs. Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 17: Strengthened Bonds

Harry woke to the feeling of soft hair against his cheek, a warm, curvy body next to his, and a
surprisingly calloused finger tip against his lips. He forced himself to remain still for a
moment, trying to remember in whose bed he had ended up sleeping the previous night.

Doing that, though, immediately brought back the terrifying memories of the Department of
Mysteries. Of watching four friends be killed by a single explosion. Of death he, too, had
wrought in return.

Watching Lilith utterly annihilate a group of them herself, in some fashion bringing his 'kills'
up to eight, or eleven, depending on how you counted.

Of the short discussion with Dumbledore, including the revelation given there, that it was
either he or Voldemort, one must die.

Not that it was a particular shock to Harry, at that point, but to have the confirmation of it
both lifted and placed a terrible weight from and to Harry's shoulders.

"Good morning," a familiar, yet still surprising voice whispered from just next to his ear.
When he stayed still, trying to place it, she again whispered, "You don't have to pretend,
Harry, I know you're awake. You should get up soon, Madame Pomfrey is on the ward and
coming this way."

He blinked tired eyes, forcing them to focus painfully on the very relaxed, slightly mussed- in
a way he'd never seen her before- face and hair of Lavender Brown from just two or three
inches away. He moved to get off the bed, thankful in some inscrutable way that he was atop
the sheets and still dressed, and murmured, "I'll, just, um..."

Lavender pinked slightly, though Harry could not blame her, as the situation he'd woken in,
with his hand on her breasts over the sheets, had him blushing, too. She, though, only shook
her head, "It's alright. I don't mind. Get to the other bed, quick. She's checking on Dean right
now."

Harry swallowed, wondering why that was important, then remembered: Dean was on the
opposite side of Ron and Hermione. She was just two patients away, and the early dawn light
streaming in through the nearby window meant that they were probably all still asleep- he
had to hurry.

Tiptoeing around the end of the bed to risk a quick glance, Harry was relieved not to see the
hospital Matron in view. He moved back to the far bed and got up onto, but not into, it, trying
to relax while just a few feet away from a girl he'd just been fondling without even knowing
it. Someone definitely on his 'list', but whom he'd been holding back from at Lilith's
recommendation.

Why had she done that, though? Lavender wasn't what he would call 'his type', if he had one,
but she was very pretty, easily one of the best looking girls in the school in any year.
Wouldn't that have put her earlier on the 'list'?

He was still thinking about it while trying not to do that very thing when Madame Pomfrey
left the bed-pair of his best friends and came to the final one. A quick glance between the
beds and at the uncomfortable, even slightly red, faces of her fifteen-year-old charges had the
older witch rolling her eyes, "Really... like I didn't check on you both in the night. You've
nothing to hide I haven't already seen, and after the evening you all had, I would give anyone
the chance for some restful sleep. Even if the method used to gain it was... unusual. Good
morning, Miss Brown, Mr. Potter."

"Good Morning, Madam Pomfrey," both said simultaneously, and just as sheepishly as the
other.

The older witch only shook her head, still amused, and went on while she approached
Lavender with her wand out, "Not to mention the state of all your friends. Mr. Weasley and
Miss Granger, Mr. Thomas and Miss Weasley... I have to say, had I not known through the
rumor mill that these couples were already formed, I'd have to warn some against forming a
relationship based on traumatic events. They rarely last, and are less rarely healthy. Still, as I
know 'nothing happened' last night between you two, I'll let that warning stand as it is.

"Now, Miss Brown- any lingering discomfort? Pain?"

Lavender shook her head, now bright red, and shot a glance at Harry. "Um... I'm alright. I
think Harry needs to get checked out, though."

"I'll be the judge of both of those, if you please," Pomfrey said a bit firmly, "Now, lie back,
relax... that's it."

She passed her wand over Lavender several times, muttering incantations Harry could not
hear, then said, in a much more relaxed tone, "It seems you are correct, there's nothing off
with you aside from elevated blood pressure, which isn't anything your flush doesn't explain.
When it comes time for breakfast, you'll be free to go."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Lavender said with a smile, "The potions last night helped a
lot."

"I know, dear, I know," the Matron said with a kind smile, "That's what they're for. Now, Mr.
Potter... lay back yourself. I know you won't relax, but do try, won't you?"

As the witch scanned his body, too, it took several extra minutes for her to cast more than two
dozens spells at a multitude of small cuts, scrapes, and bruises, several of which Harry hadn't
noticed obtaining the previous night. In the end though, she clucked and shook her head,
"You, Mr. Potter, will be lucky to be here through lunch... but I suppose there's nothing too
severely wrong with you. A bit low on nutrients- but I am aware you missed dinner the
previous evening, and had a most stressful night. If you will promise you will eat a hearty
meal both for breakfast and luncheon, I can let you go with your friends. That means only
Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Miss Abbott will be staying through lunch, though I will let them go
shortly after, most likely. Do I have your word, Mr. Potter?"

"Of course, Madam Pomfrey," Harry assured her, "In fact, I'm starving. Um... I didn't see
Neville- Neville Longbottom- last night."

"Mr. Longbottom is, among all of you, possibly the least injured. Even Miss Lovegood was
hit by an unknown curse which caused the bottoms of her feet to erupt in boils, but Mr.
Longbottom had more sense than most- or at least he kept a surprisingly strong shield charm
in place for much of what I have heard was a running battle. He is, I believe, safely
ensconced in your dormitory. I had but a single scratch to mend on him."

"Good," Harry exhaled, then slipped from the bed, "At least... at least some of us came out
alright."

Before he could pass the older witch, though, she put out an arm to stop him, "One moment,
though, Mr. Potter- Harry. I am not a mind healer myself, but I am here to talk if you feel you
need someone to speak to regarding what happened. It is not your fault, but I know you have
a tendency to blame yourself. You could not have known. If fault lies with anyone in the
school, it is the person who turned your paper into a Portkey. That person... I shouldn't be the
one to tell you this, but Minerva- Professor McGonagall- believes it was Professor Tofty,
acting under the Imperius Curse. Please don't blame him. Still, if you need someone to speak
to, I am here. If you don't feel comfortable with that, I am acquainted with two very skilled
and discrete mind-healers I could put you in contact with."
Harry's first instinct was to tell her that he was fine, but a warning glance from Lavender, of
all people, made him hesitate. After a few moments he nodded, then looked firmly into
Poppy Pomfrey's eyes and said, "I didn't sleep badly last night. I'll... let you know if that
changes for more than a night or two, or if I... start to have issues."

She searched his own expression for a few seconds, then nodded, "See that you do. Now,
gather up your friends and get out of my wing. I've had enough of the lot of you for now."

Breakfast that morning was a subdued affair. Despite the O.W.L.s being over (N.E.W.T.s
were slated to continue for another week, though most of the students would be returning
home in a few days), the entire school seemed to have heard very quickly that one of their
own had been taken from inside the school itself, and that many others had gone to help save
him.

Harry, of course, was growing used to the stares and did his best to ignore them while
walking to the Gryffindor table and eating his breakfast as quietly as possible, flanked by
Ron and Hermione on each side, with Neville, Dean, Ginny, and Lavender on the opposite
side, Parvati Patil sitting next to Hermione across from her own best friend, with Lee Jordan,
Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell in their own little trio next to Ron, with the Creevey
brothers across from them.

The same pattern repeated on the Hufflepuff table, Ernie sitting next to Susan, though they
normally didn't interact much, each swarmed by their year-mates otherwise.

On the Ravenclaw table, things were a bit different. Padma, Luna, Terry, and Michael sat
alone, isolated from their peers (though at least, Harry was pleased to see, Luna was being
included in the quiet conversation with the others, not being excluded as she had been for
most of the year since he'd known her), a large swath of space at the table, on both sides,
cleared between them and any other students, as if the brave Ravenclaws had somehow
contracted a strange disease that might be contagious. Marietta, Harry was unsurprised to see,
was not present, nor the younger girl Harry thought might be Anthony's little sister.

Only the Slytherin table seemed mostly unchanged, though Harry noticed Daphne and even
Pansy sending him the occasional strange looks, the two sitting alone with Tracey Davis,
aside from all the others, though no significant gap was left between Pansy and the Carrow
twins, who, strangely, seemed in a better mood than he'd ever seen them. They were even
smiling, faintly.

It was kind of creepy, he'd never seen the sixth-years smile before.

Professor Dumbledore, for once, was wearing all-black robes, along with most of the rest of
the staff.

Those who had been attentive at the end of the previous year knew what that meant, though
Harry was doing his best to ignore it. That is, until the Headmaster stood up at the podium
and tapped his wand for silence.
"Attention, students. If I may have your attention, please. As many of you know, in recent
months our school has undergone a series of, shall we say, drastic and unnecessary changes.
These changes are being remedied as we speak. As you can see, I have returned as
Headmaster of Hogwarts, for one thing."

There was a great deal of cheering from most of the students, and even a few Slytherins gave
a polite clap.

"Of course," he spoke after a few seconds, continuing even over the clapping until it quieted,
"There have been worse events occurring in our school more recently. I speak, if any of you
do not know, of the crimes committed in this very hall last afternoon, and the subsequent loss
of four of our own.

"Harry Potter was kidnapped through no fault of his own, by means of a Portkey. That
method of transportation will no longer work in this school, so if any of you know anything
about how the charm might have been applied to Mr. Potter's paper, I would urge you to
come forward with that information, or at the least, inform whoever instructed you in doing
so that it will not work again."

Several dozen sets of eyes moved to Harry, but he was immediately grateful for the wall of
his friends who shielded him from it without thinking, while he kept his attention on
Dumbledore.

"As a result, a student organization rose to the occasion, both alerting the staff here in a most
timely fashion when they received a communication from Mr. Potter as to his location, and to
further inform the Auror Department. Aurors entered the Ministry just ten minutes after Mr.
Potter's friends in that group embarked on a most- forgive me- Gryffindor-ish plan to rescue
him themselves, as they were already mustered and raring to go.

"During the ensuing battle, Mr. Potter was, indeed, rescued, and he, too, fought bravely to
protect his friends. Unfortunately... their foes were not known for mercy towards anyone, not
even schoolchildren. Four of our own were killed last night. Do not blame Mr. Potter for their
deaths, he was not responsible. He did not ask to be taken, nor did he ask for them to come
rescue him. It is my belief that he merely wanted them to relay his location to the staff, so
that he could be rescued by those appropriately trained in doing so. Those friends of his,
gallant souls regardless of house, sacrificed themselves doing what I would hope any of us
would have the heart to do: helping a friend. So I raise my glass to them all. Cho Chang,
Alicia Spinnet, Zacharias Smith, and Anthony Goldstein. Your bravery, courage, wit, and
perseverance do honor to you, to your memory, to your family, your House, and your friends.
I pray that we, too, may live to honor you in return."

The toast was echoed by nearly all the school, and Harry was surprised to see more than
twenty Slytherins echo it, at least for some of the students as he said their names.

It appeared that those four had friends in other houses besides in the D.A.

After Dumbledore sat down, the hall was quiet for several minutes, until the great parliament
of owls bringing in the morning mail arrived.
To no one's surprise after that announcement, the Daily Prophet had a large, front-page
article. Or, more accurately, a headline twelve inches tall, a small portrait, and two lines of an
article, with more appearing on the next pages.

Potter Kidnapped by Death Eaters! Hogwarts unsafe! Death Eaters in the Department
of Mysteries! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Appears in Ministry Atrium! Aurors at a
loss!

It went on for a few more lines, but Harry stopped reading the headline, looking only at the
picture, which showed the shadow of Voldemort's soul ripping around the ceiling of the
Atrium, avoiding the jets of many-hued light shot by Moody and Dumbledore, before
whizzing away up the elevator shaft outside.

Slowly, he reached for Hermione's copy, she was only staring at it unbelievingly anyway,
then opened it after reading the first two lines.

At about four in the afternoon yesterday, Harry James Potter was kidnapped by means of a
Portkey from inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was taken, it appears,
to the rumored Hall of Prophecy deep inside the Ministry of Magic's Department of
Mysteries. There, he...

Harry dropped the paper. It would, it seemed, be a retelling of the events in some detail,
something he did not want to read. Too, it would likely mention the deaths of his friends, and
probably even the Death Eaters.

Hermione picked it up after a few seconds, the others already reading their own copies. "Tell
me if there's anything I need to know, won't you?" he murmured. She nodded, then watched
as he stood. "I'm going for a walk. No, Ron, it's alright- I just want to be alone for an hour or
so. I'll come back, I promise. If I'm not here for lunch, panic."

"Alright, mate," Ron eventually said, sitting back from his half-raised position. "If you want
company, you know where to find us. Got the map and cloak?"

"No," Harry said, "I didn't want to bring them to the exam. I'll get them before I go anywhere.
No... in fact, I'll leave my cloak. I don't mind if people see me, I just don't want to be
bothered much."

"Alright. Take care of yourself, yeah? Maybe watch out for any more exam papers."

"Har, har, Ronald," Hermione said with a scowl, though all of them could tell she was only
half serious, "I'll never hear the end of this, will I? Twenty years down the road, you'll still be
making jokes about how dangerous tests are."

Parvati leaned in at once, smiling sweetly at her roommate, "Something you need to tell us,
Hermione? Planning on being with Ron twenty years down the road, are we?"

Hermione blushed deeply, and the ensuing laughter was the perfect distraction for Harry to
slip away.
Harry wandered the castle quietly for more than an hour, occasionally speaking to an
acquaintance briefly as they passed in the halls- classes were officially over, with the
Hogwarts Express coming in a few days, after the seventh-year examinations were over, to
pick up the students- but by and large keeping to himself.

Eventually, he had the courage to ask something that had been bothering him since the
previous night in Dumbledore's office. Lilith... are you mad at me?

The response took several seconds coming, which made Harry wonder if she was, though
when it came, he wasn't so sure. No, Master, I'm not annoyed... I'm hurt. Nothing bad, it's just
that wound from last night. I'll... be fine in a day or two. I could use a recharge, though, if
you're... up for it.

He paused mid-step, then started again a moment later. I'm always up for it. Where can I find
you? I'll come to you.

In your dormitory, of course. Your friend Seamus is here, but I think he's heading down to
breakfast.

Harry passed Seamus on the way up, the Irish boy giving Harry a quick nod, "Glad you're
alright, Harry," then headed on his way.

He was surprised, on entering, to find Lilith not on his bed, but in the shower room, and still
in her battle-form from the previous night. She was standing under the spray, still adjusting
the temperature, and other than the bone coverings over her elbows and heels, utterly nude.

Watching as her larger wings beat idly, fanning the growing steam, and her lithe, tall form
flexed and moved beneath the spray as she rinsed herself off had Harry already starting to
strain in his trousers.

He quickly chucked his clothes in the dry area, not bothering to do more than set them on the
shelf, then stepped into the shower area itself. There, he hissed in worry- being in front of his
Succubus instead of on her right side let him see the hole, burned, blackened, and oozing a
yellow-green fluid similar to pus, a few inches to the right and half up or so from her navel,
which he already knew to be sensitive, but not to have the same purpose- Succubi were not
born as such, and did not have umbilical cords in the same way.

"Hello, Master," Lilith said seductively, looking down at him from a few inches over his
height. "Is it that ugly looking?"

"I won't lie," Harry said, focusing on the wound itself, "it's not pretty... but I'm surprised I
haven't seen you like... this, before. Well, there was the other night, but..."

She took his hand-waving accurately, giving a little shrug, "It's closer to my natural
appearance. We're humanoid where we come from, but actually a bit more covered. We don't
just walk around nude all the time- only most of it."

"It's sexy," Harry admitted, taking a step back to look over her again. Her normal form, for
him, was small and petite, almost child-like but with defined feminine characteristics,
whereas Ron preferred a more mature, low-twenties or maybe late-teens figure with plentiful
curves.

How Lilith appeared now, though, reminded Harry of a few pictures he'd seen of Amazon
women in a few books- tall, lean, muscular, but still exuding an almost undefinable air of
sexuality and power.

"Looks like you're ready to help me, Master," she cooed, lifting one hand to beckon him
closer.

Harry obeyed, finding it strange to reach up onto the tips of his toes to kiss his companion,
but enjoying how her large breasts pressed against his collarbones and neck, even while her
longer, nearly six-foot tail slipped up the inside of his thigh and around his left leg, while her
arms moved down to cup his arse. "How can I help?" he asked, concern evident in his voice
when he pulled away, "I don't want to hurt you... can you change to a middle form?"

She sook her head, "Not without making it worse. Shifting with an injury leaves the injury
the same size, so it would be larger on a smaller body. I... hope you don't mind helping me
like this."

"Of course I don't," he replied, "I just don't know how."

"Semen, of course," Lilith said with a wink, "I thought you'd have figured that out. On the
wound itself, strange as that sounds, is most helpful... but I can spread it around if that makes
you uncomfortable. It's just a little less effective."

Harry paused. "Um... wanking to an injury is a little weird. Okay, a lot weird."

"I'm not asking you to," Lilith giggled, leaning down for another kiss, one that made his toes
curl against the tile. "I'm asking you," she purred, "To fuck me, or something, just... ejaculate
on my stomach. That's close enough, I can do the rest."

"Oh," Harry said quietly, flushing, "I- I can do that."

Only, it turned out, that was easier said than done in the shower. Lilith was too tall for him to
enter her properly and even with her extra knee, bending far enough down was uncomfortable
with her injury, so only his tip could fit inside without standing on his toes.

After several false starts, they reached a compromise. Her hands rested on the low wall, body
bent nearly at ninety degrees, while her feet were five feet apart, giving her just the right
height for Harry to slip in from behind.

He did with a groan, and a sigh of pleasure from Lilith, then started stroking in and out while
running his hands up and down her sides and back, even playing with and stroking her silky
black tail, which he quickly found made the Succubus shudder. "Is your tail an erogenous
zone, Lilith?" he asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Her pink hair, wet and hanging down around her head from the shower, waved as she nodded,
"A strong one, Master."
He pulled it up to his mouth, then started licking even while continuing to pump in and out of
her. Lilith gasped, moaning.

Harry continued, then eventually released it, allowing her to curl the appendage around his
arm, and him to lean forward over her now bountiful, curved arse, reaching up as far as he
could to cup her swinging, pendulous breasts and maul them gently. "Getting close," he
murmured after a few more minutes.

"Alright, Master," Lilith gasped, then forced herself upright. He fell out, but she quickly
turned and fell to her knees, leaning down to take him in her mouth, where she began sucking
for all she was worth.

Harry grunted as her tongue, always skilled, flew across his frenulum for a few seconds, thick
pink lips locked around his base, then pushed her head gently away. "I- It's time."

She leaned back, then, spreading her knees to allow him to step between them.

Fighting to ignore the wound, Harry thrust between Lilith's breasts a few times, then pulled
back and angled himself down, spraying thick white semen all over, pulse after pulse,
covering both breasts and painting no fewer than seven strips on her chest, while Lilith
shuddered lightly before him.

All in all, he concluded, not the most satisfying orgasm... but fun all the same. Watching the
battle-form of his companion smile in release and pleasure as she gathered his jizz with her
hands and scooped it into the wound was less so...

But watching the wound quickly close afterward and the seeping stop, until only the faintest
of scars remained was a much better feeling.

Then, after a minute of standing there, water still spraying behind them, Lilith shifted back to
her small form. "I... think I need to rest, Master. That fight did take a lot out of me. Is that
alright?"

"Of course, Lilith," Harry said, pulling her upright and bringing her in for a gentle hug, taken
by the almost child-like form for a moment. "Whatever you need. I'll be around if you need
me, okay?"

The rest of the day was spent in mostly-quiet conversation with his friends, each of the D.A.,
whether they had participated in the battle or not, approaching Harry to speak to him
privately. The next two days, too, passed in much the same fashion. In the Gryffindor
Common Room, he would meet with Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati,
Ginny, before heading down the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. On the way, they would
be met by other surviving members of the D.A., even the remaining Ravenclaws and
Hufflepuffs.

They would not precisely circle Harry as they went, but be around or behind him as a support
and barrier to hold off some of the glares he had begun to receive. And there were glares-
several of them. Mostly from Slytherins Harry already had a problem with, but not only by
any means.

He knew why, though he hadn't discussed it with anyone but Lilith and Dumbledore.

They were relatives of the twelve lives either he or Lilith had taken that night. They had
reasons to glare. Even a month ago, Harry might have been blaming himself, too.

But speaking to his friends, to Madam Pomfrey, seeing them fight to save him and
themselves from a situation he had, this time, not walked into himself, had solidified
something inside Harry.

A realization, at least, and maybe a full and growing understanding that it was truly not his
fault.

It had been said by his friends for years, but now he was starting to believe it.

From growing up without parents, to being placed at his Aunt's house, and all of the
emotional and mental damage, not to mention the physical pain and injury that that had
brought, it all- every bit of it- ultimately stemmed from Voldemort.

Prophecy or not, Voldemort had done the deed. Made the plans, cast the spells.

But did the others feel the same?

It was Voldemort who had kidnapped Harry.

His friends had been asked by their peers- not the responsible adults he'd hoped for, though
they, too, had done what they could- to help. Most had jumped at the chance, or so Ron
continually insisted.

Which was why, in an impromptu final meeting of the remaining D.A. called at Lilith's
suggestion, Harry found himself standing in a Room of Requirement that seemed packed full
of young witches and wizards, yet felt astoundingly empty as he stood atop a desk to be seen
and heard. Only Marietta Edgecombe, of the surviving members, was not present. There were
more than two hundred students in the room, however, from every House. Even Slytherin
was represented by a small knot of students in the back. Compared to the D.A.'s original
membership, it was astonishing.

The newer attendees, Harry suspected, were here for much the same reason as they had
shown up in the Hog's Head months ago. They wanted to get the story from him, personally.

This time, though, Harry felt obliged to give at least part of it to them.

Ron and Ginny stood to his left, each atop chairs, while Hermione and an invisible Lilith
were on his right.

Those who had fought at the Ministry were at the front, Luna and Lavender at the center of
the loose half-circle.
He could see an impressive amount of the Gryffindor's cleavage and chest, but Harry pushed
his mind back on track, focusing instead on the seriousness of the moment, though he clearly
heard Lilith giggling in his mind at his reaction.

'So," the young wizard began, swallowed, and started again, "So, now you know. You've
seen, first-hand some of you, what it's like. To fight for your life. To be under threat of death,
knowing that one little mistake could be your last. That each breath is a gift. That even if you
do everything right, fight as hard as you can, harder even, the other guy, or the other side,
may just be faster. Or stronger. Or know more, or have greater numbers, or even just be
straight-out meaner than you, and you could die anyway."

Harry paused again, both to catch his breath and let that knowledge sink in. "Those who were
not at the Ministry, but are here tonight? Your lives have also been changed. We lost friends,
all of us. Some of us-" Harry looked toward the girl he thought might have been Anthony
Goldstein's younger sister in particular, "Have lost family. Now, you know what it means to
fight. There are no heroes. No one can, or will, save you. You must save yourselves, and you
may not succeed."

"We came to save you," Parvati called into the silence that followed his words.

Harry looked down into the glistening eyes of each and every member of the original D.A.,
regretting that he hadn't expressed to them personally and individually how he felt, what their
actions had meant to him. He took another breath and let it out slowly. "You're right. You did,
and I am more grateful than I can say. I'm also terrified that it might happen again. That more
friends, people I care about, will get hurt, or killed. But thank you. I am here because you
care. Still...

"Ask yourself this. Do you feel like a hero? You don't need to answer out loud. Yes, what
some of you did- and I think most of you would do- was heroic. But in the moment, were you
a hero? A heroine? Or did you make one reckless, stupid decision and then just desperately
tried to stay alive? Even if that decision was to help someone else? I'm not saying it's not
incredibly brave. But do you feel like a hero?"

Again, Harry fell quiet as he saw doubt spread.

"That," he said quietly, "is lesson number two. I don't want to minimize the sacrifice you and
our friends, our family, made. I just want you to know the cost of standing up. Of fighting.
But... there's a third lesson.

"Cho Chang, Anthony Goldstein, Alicia Spinnet, and Zacharias Smith answered the call.
They fought. They did some good, too. I don't know if it was worth it. I don't think I'm more
valuable than even one of them, much less all four. Or any of you. But they weren't fighting
just for me. They were fighting for a world they believed in- they were fighting for you. And
that is worth it. If it was you, I would fight. Some of you, I have risked my life for."

Ginny blushed, but didn't say anything, nor did Harry look particularly at her, though in his
mind he knew exactly who he was talking about.
"What it's like. What it costs. Why it's worth it. If you know the first two, and understand and
agree with the third, then all you need to know is this: pay attention. As both the real and
impostor Alastor Moody would say," and the entire group, Slytherins included, roared with
him, "Constant Vigilance!"

Harry let them settle, resuming more quietly, "So it turns out- I learned this only since the
Ministry- I have this... I suppose you could call it a connection, with Old Voldy."

Several of the people in the room gasped, looking up at thim with increasingly horrified
expressions as Harry explained, tapping his scar, "According to Professor Dumbledore,
somehow he's been sending me thoughts, images, maybe memories. He's been trying to get
me to leave the school for months. Anyway, another innocent person many of you know was
put under the Imperius Curse and forced to make a Portkey of my History exam. Two spells,
and all the security around the school was circumvented. That's why you need to stay alert
and stay vigilant. He- Professor Tofty, by the way- was tortured and killed that night. We
should remember him, too."

This time, Harry waited, breathing quietly in silence, for more than a minute while the faces
of Professor Tofty, Cho, Zacharias, Alicia, and Anthony played through his mind. Not as they
had died, but as he had known them in life, vibrant and breathing and whole, each one of
them. Happy.

"I have one more thing to tell you. It might be painful for some of you to hear." Harry
glanced, while looking over the crowd, at the knot of Slytherins in the back. "Twelve Death
Eaters died that night. I killed them, with the help of a friend of mine. A friend you don't see
standing up here, so don't pester this lot for information about who it is. They were the ones
who killed our friends, and I don't regret it. I'm sorry if doing so hurt you or your families.
But I watched these men and women cast the spells that murdered children, or would have if
they'd connected. I won't regret casting the spells that stopped them from killing the rest of
us. And that's all I have to say.

"So, for the final meeting of the D.A. this term- maybe the final meeting ever- I want you to
seek out those whose opinions you value. Talk to each other. Decide for yourselves if it's
worth it to fight. Decide if you are okay with your friends and family putting their lives on
the line for you. Know that they might do it anyway.

"I don't know if the D.A. will keep going next year. I don't think we'll need it, somehow. But
I'm open for input. Thank you." Then Harry stepped down from the desk, where he was
immediately swarmed by students. This time, though, when Ron asked in a hiss if he wanted
help escaping, he shook his head no.

Two hours later, the group of Slytherins, eight of them, approached Harry through the last
remaining students in the now cavernous-seeming Room of Requirement.

He knew most of the group by sight if not by name, and two of them, perhaps the most
surprising of the two, he knew more intimately. Harry had to hold up a hand, once again, to
stall Ron's and Ginny's overly-cautious approach, but each backed away quickly, clearly
keeping an ear and eye open.
None of the Slytherins had what he would have called a normal expression when looking at
him. Instead of disdain or outright hostility, each was carefully neutral, even guarded.

They stopped in a straight, close line a few feet away, and Daphne Greengrass, who shared
the center with Pansy, gave a little nod that might, in some circles, be called the smallest of
respectful bows.

"Mr. Potter. As you know, I am Daphne Ophelia Greengrass. You are also familiar, I believe,
with Pansy Indellise Parkinson, Millicent Thera Bulstrode, and Tracey Ann Davis, from our
year."

Harry, in turn, nodded to each girl, doing his best to keep a blush from rising as memories of
recent activities with both rushed through his mind. Then she moved to a pair of twin girls
nearly as tall as he was. Two more he'd dreamt of. "Flora and Hestia Carrow are finishing
their sixth year. Finally, Corvus Montague, a fourth-year, and Cassius Warrington, also a
sixth-year."

Harry nodded at the rest, too. He'd never interacted with most of them, aside from Warrington
on the Quidditch Pitch, but he at least knew each face. He didn't say anything, though,
leading Pansy to give Daphne a slight nudge. The blonde immediately started speaking again,
as if the entire conversation so far had been scripted, somehow, only he wasn't following his
part, forcing the others to improvise.

But Daphne's speech was still smooth, almost rehearsed, "We, the eight of us, have decided
among ourselves to support you and those aligned with you against the threat of the Dark
Lord."

In an instant that seemed, in some unfathomable way, to stretch for several minutes all
activity in the Room ceased, proving to Harry that his friends were, indeed, listening closely.

"Understand," Pansy said in the pregnant silence, "We will suffer for this. Some of us will be
disowned, or harmed. Possibly even killed. But we believe that, in this case, the possible
rewards are worth the risks. Those of us able have emptied our Trust Accounts at Gringotts
Bank, and pooled them into an account meant to support any of us whose families will object
to this course of action."

Pansy didn't say it, but he still firmly heard the implication that 'any' was probably 'all'.

Millicent, voice surprisingly soft and measured despite her sheer bulk, picked up the track,
"My family is least likely among us to react poorly, as we have sacrificed much to the Dark
Lord's cause with little in return. I believe I will be able to keep the home set aside for me
when I reach my majority, so the group of us, while crowded, will at least have a place to
stay."

Harry nodded, and Daphne picked up the conversation again, "In return for pledging our
services and information to your cause, we request all the protections that you and yours, and
Dumbledore and his Order can provide. We do not pledge to fight alongside you, as that
would likely pitch us into battle facing our own families."
Harry swallowed, heart thumping in his chest. Perhaps it was the formal speech, or maybe the
atmosphere alone, but he was suddenly quite aware of exactly what he was being offered. Not
to Dumbledore (alone, at least), but to him, first. The gravity of the Slytherin's offer made
him quake inside.

The children of politically and economically powerful Houses, Houses that were all-but
publically sworn to see him and his destroyed, breaking ranks to side with him, just as
publically.

With Dumbledore, and the Order of the Phoenix, true, but that only because Harry, himself,
was allied with them. "Lilith?"

Her response was immediate, but subdued, "I have no advice, Master. Either accepting or not
is fraught with peril. I can tell you that only one of their hearts- one of the males- is clouded
on this matter, and the rest are entirely sincere."

Harry nodded once more, more to the Succubus than those arrayed before him, and said as
formally as possible, "I accept. We'll have to set up a time, soon but over the summer, to
exchange information and discuss how best to help each other. I'll try and speak to Professor
Dumbledore before we leave the school tomorrow."

The three Slytherin girls that seemed to be in charge, Pansy, Daphne and Millicent,
exchanged looks. Millicent then reached into her pockets and withdrew a neatly-folded scrap
of parchment. "My home's call-only Floo. I will be there by Monday afternoon of next week.
If I am not, we will have to find other means of contact, and possibly assume we have been
compromised."

Daphne nodded, too, "I believe I can reach you if needed, Mr. Potter. At your- relative's
address?"

Harry's eyebrows rose, paranoia about this being a trap rising, but he said, "That's likely
where I'll be, at least until the middle of July."

"Very well," the blonde girl said, eyes flickering up and down his body twice as she spoke,
"Then I believe we will take our leave. Good Eventide, Mr. Potter."

As the group collectively gave nods or small bows and turned away, Harry had to wonder.
What, if anything, did this turn of events have to do with his bargain with Daphne, or the
more recent encounters with her? Somehow, he doubted the events would have been remotely
possible without, in some way, Lilith having entered his life.

While the young wizard's thoughts simmered, most of the rest of the D.A. left, until only
Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and of course Lilith, remained.

His two oldest friends were talking quietly in a shadowed corner, and Ginny was wiping
down the surface of the desk he'd stood on a few feet to Harry's right.

Lilith, while Harry felt her nearby, was harder to pinpoint.

Then Harry jumped, broken from his roiling thoughts, by a soft, warm hand on his elbow. "I
never thanked you, did I?" Ginny asked, voice low and a little husky.

Harry blinked, bewildered as his mind tried to shift gears. "Er, for... for what?"

The slight red-head stepped around to his front, looking up at him with soft, wet eyes. Harry
was uncomfortably aware of her proximity, almost touching him, but not quite. "For the
Chamber, my first year. The Basilisk. Tom. I... you came to save me. Your best friend's super-
annoying, pesky little sister."

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione to find both of them hand-in-hand, watching him with
amused expressions. "I don't think you're annoying."

Ginny' smouth twisted into a little grin as her eyes rolled. "Not now, when I've finally
sprouted a bit. Then, with that ill-advised Valentine, for example."

Unable to help himself, Harry shuddered, but said, "I thought it was- kind of cute, really.
Really embarrassing, but I was twelve."

Ginny nodded, voice quieting again, "I just- wanted to thank you. I... Can I be honest,
Harry?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Ginny too sent a glance over her shoulder. "Let's take a walk?"

"Sure."

After bidding his friends good night, Harry and Ginny made their way out into the relatively
balmy evening grounds. There were still a few couples here and there, taking advantage of
the mild spring weather and last few minutes of light, which was fading rapidly.

Once they were sufficiently far away from others, Lilith's subdued presence was a fair ways
back as well, the younger girl slipped her small, strong hand into his. "It was Hermione, you
know. She gave me the advice I needed. To open up, be myself. But it's kind of too late, isn't
it?"

"What do you mean?"

Ginny's reply made Harry stumble and nearly fall with its blunt delivery, "I wanted to be your
first, but you've been with Hermione already."

When Harry was safely upright, if red-faced, he could only mouth wordlessly, wondering
when the hexing would start.

Ginny, though, surprised him again by shrugging and pulling him on. "It's alright. I
understand, Hermione's amazing, and any bloke would be lucky. I'm not upset. I was for a
few days, but I'm not now. I just decided to thank you, and that I was fine if you were my
first."
He did not stumble this time, but came to a full, abrupt stop as Ginny took a few more steps.
"Er, Harry? I- is... is it that scary a thing?"

It took him a few seconds to respond, and when he did, Harry was astonished at how
difficult, yet how very easy at the same time, it was to tell her. "Well, you see... Hermione
wasn't. My first, I mean."

One flame-red eyebrow rose, the girl lit from behind by the darkening purples and faint
oranges of twilight.

Frankly, he'd never felt Ginny to be more beautiful, which made what he had to tell her even
harder. But she had to know, she deserved to know. Really, they all did. At least, those...
those who were more than just a shag for fun. And Hermione already knew, so...

One of Harry's heels twisted in the moist grass, "You- you see, a month- more now, I guess-
anyway, a little more than a month ago, I found this book. A ritual, to summon aid from
another world. And... and I was feeling really alone, and randy I guess, and I... did it. Her
name is Lilith, and she's a Succubus. Uh, she wasn't my first, either."

In the fulminating darkness, Ginny's pale skin lightened further as he spoke, but she said
nothing, the other students slowly making their way in twos back to the warm, lit castle.

"There's some law they have, or something. They can't be with- with virgins. And I was, then.
So... she used some of her powers on someone else. And she was my first. Then Lilith and..."

"You're a slag," Ginny whispered.

Then, just as he started to truly fear Ginny would slap him, scream, and reveal the whole
thing to the world at large, to reveal him for the fraud and cheat and rapist he was, she
clutched her stomach and started laughing uproariously, even doubling over.

Harry, feeling shocked and offended, protested, "Hey, it's true!"

Ginny, though, only laughed harder.

He was about to complain again when the girl suddenly leapt, still laughing, into his arms and
kissed him deeply.

On instinct alone, Harry grabbed the fourth-year, lest she fall, while she laughed. Only after
she had started to calm did Harry realize he was holding Ron' sister- his best friend's sister-
against his body by the arse, and she was still kissing him, interspersed with decreasing
giggles.

Eventually, crimson-faced, Ginny dropped her legs to the ground, turned away and took up
his hand again as she resumed following one of the many well-worn paths, one that Harry
knew would eventually take the pair around the lake.

It was in that moment that he decided, I'll never understand girls.

They were nearing the shore several minutes later when Ginny broke what, to Harry, was an
increasingly comfortable, if strange, silence, though he still wondered when she would
explode in the famous Weasley Temper.

Intead, Ginny said, "Somehow, I think a part of me knew that if I wanted to be with you, that
I'd have to share you. With the 'public', if nothing else. Your fame, your celebrity- and you
don't need to tell me you hate both, I know- but you're- you've always been, well, larger than
little old me. I just... I don't think I expected it in quite this way. But- and maybe this is
strange, but I don't really... care? Is that the right word? Mind, maybe? It's almost like
something deep inside me is telling me that, to get what I want, this is just the way it has to
be. Like you were saying earlier, 'this is the cost'? Does that make any sense at all?"

"I... don't know," Harry confessed after a few minutes, "It sounds strange, but it also makes
sense, I suppose. Only... this is my life, Ginny, until me or Voldemort is gone. Lilith is here to
stay, and I think things will continue sort of as they have. I... I don't want to sound too
forward, but you are one of the girl's I've, er..."

"Fantasized about?"

"Y- Yeah. Erm..."

"Have you wanked, thinking about me?"

Harry coughed, grateful that only the half-moon showed his doubtlessly bright blush, then
nodded, looking sheepishly at his feet.

"Brilliant," Ginny said, happiness evident in her voice. Along with... was that... pride?

"Sorry," Harry eventually muttered.

Ginny only replied, "Don't be. Tell me about them. The girls you've been with, all of them."

He stumbled again, leading her to grab his arm and giggle as she stopped him from falling
again. "What? S- Seriously?"

"No," she answered at once, "Sirius is your godfather, remember? I'm asking about you."

"Har, Har. But... Really? You won't... send Howlers, or Bat-Bogeys, or anything? Or do
anything to me?"

"'Course not," Ginny chuckled, "I just want to know what kind of girls you fancy, if I'm in
that group, too. See what company I keep. Call it personal vanity."

More surprised that the witch seemed sincere than anything else, Harry said, "Well... I
summoned Lilith. We talked, then she guided me to someone else- we both insisted it was
someone who, uh, wouldn't mind the... the influence, I guess, or the experience. It was...
Daphne Greengrass."

Ginny let out a low whistle, "She's gorgeous. She was your first, then?"
Harry nodded, "And, uh... during that, Lilith also joined in a bit with her m-mouth. Then,
back in the room she was summoned in, we finalized the Contract. That was... two or three
times. I forget, it was kind of... a blur. Umm... a girl in a broom-closet, I don't know who, and
Lilith won't say. M- Mouth again, just that. Lilith set that one up 'to get me more experience'.
Um... Cho Chang. Marietta Edgecombe. P- Pansy Parkinson."

"That cow? I can't believe she had the stones to talk to you in the D.A. much less... also, ew?"

Harry snorted, grinning, "No, she... she has a public face, and a private one, I think. And I... it
was good, but with her, Gin, it was mostly about punishing her, and Malfoy, at least at first.
She didn't even know it was me, until the end. But I gave her some things to think about, and
she did. Oh, Daphne and I have an agreement, too. I'm- I'm to father her an heir if I survive
this, and she doesn't... have another."

Ginny continued saying nothing as they kept walking, her face inscrutable. Harry wasn't sure
why he was being so open with Ginny, when up until just a few days ago she'd always
seemed like such a fan-girl more than anyone who genuinely liked him for himself, but he
wasn't lying about the dreams, either, or anything else. He just didn't need to mention how
many girls he'd fantasized about at Hogwarts. Not yet, anyway.

"A- Anyway, um... when I met with Pansy again, we talked. A lot. She's- she and Daphne,
really- are products of their environment. But both of them also really and sincerely- Lilith
can tell things like that- want to break free from where they've come from. Change. Be...
better, I guess. And I think they deserve a chance."

"Okay," Ginny agreed at once.

"And... wait, that's it? You're fine with them just after that?"

"No, not really," the girl responded after a moment, "but I trust you, and if you trust them, I'll
give them a chance."

"Er... right. Um... and... then, Hermione. Her and Ron, too, I think... I don't know if I was first
or- no, I was. Then him, the next day or two. She's..."

"In love with you both?"

He nodded.

"She's said," Ginny whispered, "When she told me you'd... been with her. She was so worried
I'd hate her, but I couldn't. I was angry, but I just couldn't hate my best friend, you know?
Like you hating Ron."

"Y- Yeah, I suppose. And... Ron's been with Lilith, too, now. And Cho, and Marietta."

"Slag," Ginny chuckled again, but that was all she said.

"Er... You don't need to tell your Mum any of this, yeah?"
"I'm not an idiot, Harry," Ginny reminded him, "And my loyalty is to my family- and you're
family. Maybe more. About Ron... well, let's just see how much he annoys me in the next few
years, shall we?"

Harry grinned. "Right, sounds fair."

"Anyway, I won't tell her about you, because unlike my overprotective brothers, I think who
they shag is their business. Is it weird for you, though, to... to share Hermione, and your
Succubus?"

Harry shrugged, "Not really. It's... I thought it would be, you know? But it's not. No, it's...
strangely sexy, I think. Maybe I'm the strange one."

Ginny smiled. "Who's next?"

Harry had to think for a moment, and when he responded, his voice was dark. "I asked a
friend- who was Ron's first, before, to get him some experience, also arranged by Lilith- to
help out another mutual friend with some experience to help him with his own love interest."

"Neville- He's a lot more confident, and not just in the D.A."

Harry didn't confirm the accurate guess, not that Ginny seemed to need it, only continuing,
"Anyway, she did help him. And I spent some time with her, later. We were friends. It- it was
Alicia."

Ginny gasped, her hand tightening in his. "Oh, Harry... I'm so sorry."

Harry, though, shook his head. "Friends... lovers, once, but I didn't... love her that way.
Friends and teammates, with one brief interlude of... benefits."

When he trailed off, Ginny asked, "Anyone else?"

"No... most of them more than once. Lilith and Hermione the most, so far, in that order. But
that's everyone."

They were nearly to Harry's favorite spot on the path, and he was not terribly surprised when
the girl stepped off of the path itself into the grass-covered glen which circled a large, mostly-
flat stone that stood as high as he was and several times his length on a side, leaving a grassy
clearing more than twenty feet to any tree, and twelve to the water's edge.

Ginny stepped close as they neared the stone, this time close enough he could feel the points
of her firm chest pressing into his. "I've told you what I'm offering, Harry. Can I thank you?
Tonight? Here?"

He swallowed, hands moving around her slim waist. He glanced around, confirming once
more that no one was lurking nearby before answering, "Even after all that, you still...?
Knowing... there will still be others after? And I will probably continue with some of the
ones I've already been with, too?"
Ginny was quiet for several minutes as her chocolate eyes, dark in the slight moonlight,
shimmered up at him. "Do you think, after- that Lilith would want me, too?"

Harry swallowed. "Well?"

There was a snort of laughter, and Lilith appeared, translucent, visible only to Harry, in a
form much like Ginny's own body, standing next to the girl. She leaned into the human's ear
and whispered, just loud enough for Harry to hear, "If I have Master's permission, I would
happily bring you to the greatest heights of pleasure, lover-girl."

Harry knew just how powerful an effect Lilith's voice and touch, amplified by her mysterious
powers, could have on someone, so though he only saw the Succubus trace one sharp
fingernail down Ginny's cheek along her jawline while she spoke, he was not terribly
surprised to see the girl gasp and shudder as her body grew weak at the knees.

"But," Lilith said softly, "That's for later. Enjoy her, Master. I'd wager that, at this point, she's
yours forever."

As Lilith faded completely from view, Harry felt her presence withdraw, eventually making
its way to the distant castle.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked again, "I mean, most people wouldn't..."

In response, Ginny stepped into him again, molding her petite, firm body against his and said,
"Harry, I've always been yours, if you want me. This... It's new, and unusual, but as long as
you're still you, then I want this. I want you."

"Alright," he replied, wanting, it seemed, the same thing she did, but also feeling the need to
try and hold back, to be responsible, or... something.

Yet, the moment he finished the single word, Ginny slipped a hand beneath his robes and
cupped his groin. Then she pulled away and smiled coyly for a moment before beginning to
unbutton her school shirt.

She didn't remove it completely, only let it hang open, revealing a pale, off-white bra with
little cherries. Harry did not have long to stare, though, as Ginny stepped into him again. This
time, her hands went to his waistband, unbuttoning his trousers, before one hand slipped up
the inside of his shirt, palm against his chest, while the other moved downward into his
boxers, to wrap cool fingers around Harry's rapidly hardening member.

"Ginny," he gasped, growing fully erect in moments under the witch's touch. Still, Harry
forced himself to hold back, to show some modicum of restraint. "What- what about Dean?"

Ginny's small hand began twisting and tugging, "We're done," she said softly, "He wanted
what I want to give to you. And he was getting pushy about it, so... So I broke it off."

"Gin," Harry sighed, "If you fancy Dean..."

To his continuing surprise, the girl started giggling. She did not cease her pulling, but through
the soft laughter said, "Harry, you daft idiot. I fancy you! I only went with Michael and Dean
because they asked, and to make you notice I was a girl."

"I already knew that. I'm not Ron."

"It's a good thing," Ginny whispered, "Because that would make this pretty awkward." Then,
still with her soft eyes on his, she sank to her knees in the grass, taking his trousers with her.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry groaned as the petite hands, both now, started stroking him in earnest.

"I can't believe how big you are," Ginny said with amazement.

Harry latched onto the statement in an effort to hold off his arousal, though his eyes remained
focused on the red-haired girl even as the rest of his senses became hyper-aware of every
sensation he was receiving. The scent of fir, oak, and ash filled his nostrils, with the more
subtle underlay of mulch, and the new grass of spring. The air itself, not just the smells it
carried, had the lingering warmth of day, but a bit of a nip from the newly-arrived night.

"Lilith... did something. She said I was of a good size before, but her magic... changed me.
Physically, mostly, but..."

"What gets me," Ginny said huskily, "is that it was you- the great, noble Harry Potter,
paragon of pure good, or whatever, who had the will and the sheer stones, to summon and
bind a Succubus. Harry Potter is naughty."

Before he could think of a response other than to deny it- which seemed altogether pointless,
given his recent activities- Ginny's mouth opened wide and she leaned in.

And it was exquisite. She could barely get his head into her little mouth, but her heat and
moist oral cavity reminded him at once how much he adored getting blowjobs, and that
Ginny, little spitfire that she was, took to the activity like she did Quidditch...

Both hands stroked his length rapidly, at varying and changing speeds, while she sucked and
pulled at his head, laved him with her tongue on top and bottom, until he groaned and his
hands fell on her head.

Then she pulled off with a pop, and looked up, shrugging her shirt the rest of the way off and
hiking her bra up over her chest, though she left it on. "Do you want to shag me, Potter? Shag
your best mate's little sister?"

"Yeah," he groaned, his own voice raspy from lust, "I do."

"Do it then," she whispered, laying back in the grass on her open shirt and lifting her knees,
inviting him between them.

He could not see beneath the skirt in the darkness, but since Lilith had gifted him her
enhancements, he'd been able to almost smell arousal, and now he was certain that was
exactly what was coming from beneath the clothing.

He didn't move, though, aside from to lazily start stroking his cock with one hand as he
looked down at her.
"W- Well? Harry?"

Her voice, confident a moment earlier, had gained a certain tremble... nerves, maybe.

"Admiring the view," he said softly, then sank to his own knees, running both his hands up
the inside of her white, creamy, lightly-freckled thighs.

Ginny's breath hitched as he reached her knickers, taking the skirt up to reveal the same
cherry-print, but not touching her core. Instead, he continued on, cupping each of her small,
up-turned, but very firm, breasts. They didn't fill his hand, but had just enough flexion that he
was able to squeeze a few inches between the thumb and fingers of each hand, which made
the girl gasp.

"Are you mine, Ginny?"

She didn't hesitate, "I am yours, Harry. Forever, like your Succubus said."

"No matter how many people I shag?"

She shook her head, "I don't care, if you shag me too. Don't stop, don't leave me, and I'll be
yours forever."

"Good. You'll shag Lilith, then, before next year's end, yeah?"

"Gods, yes," she gasped, "Succubi are hot."

"They are," he agreed, "and... you want to shag Hermione?"

Ginny blushed, "I... I've never thought about..."

"She said she's not interested in girls," Harry whispered as he leaned over the smaller girl,
shadowing her with his body, "But she watched Lilith fuck both me and Ron, and liked it.
Lilith wants her, and it seems she gets what she wants. Maybe after Hermione's been...
broken in, yeah?"

"That... that sounds fun," Ginny whispered.

"You'll shag me, first, though... will you be a slag for me, if I ask you to?"

"Anyone," Ginny gasped.

He thrust forward, some part of Lilith's influence on him guiding his cock, and he sheathed
himself to the hilt in one move.

Ginny's scream of pain was muffled by his mouth, and her secondary whimpers by two of his
fingers, which she started to suckle after several seconds.

As always, he wanted to move, fast and hard, into her virginal cunt, but this was Ginny. His
Ginny, his own.
He hadn't said it yet, but...

"You're my pet now, aren't you?" he asked quietly, "My pet, like Lilith is, only human?"

Ginny continued to whimper, but nodded, "Yes- what does she call you, Harry? Master?"

"Yes. You can call me that, too, in private. Just you, me, and her. No one else."

"Master... Gods... Master, you hurt so much... but I love it. I love you."

She whimpered again when he pulled out, but Harry had a plan, something driven by instinct
and need and maybe magic, if it had a mind of its own. He stepped over her small body,
positioning himself at her mouth. "Clean me, my pet. Clean me of your juices and blood."

She hesitated only a moment, her eyes flashing from brown to the faintest of pink for a
moment, then back, as her tongue darted out, laving around his length.

It took only a minute, but the strange mystery and eroticism of the girl licking his erection
clean of her virginal blood sent a wash of magic and power and lust through Harry such as he
hadn't felt since forming the Contract.

The moment she was finished, Harry pulsed his thick seed into her mouth once, twice, then
left a trail down her fair body as he scooted back in a hurry, and plunged once more, still
rock-hard, into Ginny's depths.

Her eyes shone pink once again as the lithe body shook under his now furious pumping, her
tiny breasts lurching less than an inch even as her body moved three times the distance with
every push.

It faded only after she orgasmed around him, a soft scream of delight and ecstasy slipping
from her gaping mouth a moment before he released again, filling her.

Slowly, he sank down onto the girl, covering her completely but not resting his weight fully
on her, lest she be smothered.

Both panted as the night breeze grew stronger, bringing a further chill to their now sweaty
bodies.

Eventually, Harry noticed that Ginny's eyes had returned to normal, and both had caught their
breath. "We should get back," he said quietly.

She nodded, leaned up to kiss him, and murmured, "That was amazing. And... I meant it,
Harry. All of it."

"I know, Pet."

"I'm glad, Master."

Harry was not surprised to see Lilith awake in his rather steamy, if dark, dorm room when he
arrived, despite it being after two.

Ron and Hermione were a bit more of a shock, the girl, clad only in her skirt, atop an equally
nude Ron, sucking on his todger while the ginger performed cunnilingus.

That they ignored Harry, who was wearing his cloak while sneaking in was one thing.

But Dean Thomas was on his own bed, curtains half-open, watching and wanking his own
impressively large cock while watching Hermione go down on Ron was quite another.

Then, as he stepped as quietly as possible toward his bed, where Lilith sat primly in
something like a leotard, wings and horns on display but visible only to him, he saw
Hermione wink.

Not at him- but at Dean.

She knew he was watching.

And she was blowing Ron anyway.

A memory came back to him- a memory of the Room of Requirement, as it duplicated the
Astronomy Tower, and how Hermione had sucked a bit of cum out of Dean's tip as he slept.

Now I can say I've sucked off three boys. That's two more than Lavender- if she asks.

Hermione's words from the first time they'd made love, or more accurately, when she'd gone
after Dean right afterward.

A few seconds later, Harry had made his decision. "Lilith, are you interested in Dean at all?"

"Of course, Master. A cock is a cock, and he's got a big one. He's not my type, exactly, but it
would be nice. A little early though, no? I thought it'd be at least next year before you let me
play with him."

"Well... I want him to think it's a dream, if you can pull that off."

"Ooh... I like where this is going. You going to enjoy Hermione, too, Master?"

"That's the plan. Think she can take both of us?"

"I'd love to find out. How would you like me to please your friend?"

"Turn into what he desires... and be invisible to Hermione and Ron?"

Her response took a few seconds, but she thought back, "I think I can do that, Master, but it'll
take a feeding tomorrow. Two, probably. I'm getting low, and it's a non-standard thing. I'll
have to mind-dive him, like I did on Umbridge. Whatever it is he really likes, it's buried
deep."
"Do it. I want to watch, though... and any way you can keep Hermione and Ron from
finishing before he does and I've had my fun?"

"That's easy."

So as she moved over to the other boy's bed and looked into his eyes for a moment, Harry
stepped silently over to Ron's bed and leaned low over first his mate's head and then
Hermione's, whispering the same thing to both, "I'm going to join you in a moment, keep
going."

Only, in Hermione's case, he added, "And Lilith is going to put Dean out- you slag."

Both had jumped slightly, the witch turning red-faced in a way she hadn't been with just Dean
watching, as if Harry knowing about it made it far more embarrassing, but neither stopped.

And Harry watched as Lilith shrunk, and shrunk.

Until she resembled a third-year, at most.

And she winked, flat-chested and clad only in little-girl panties, at Harry as she flittered on
invisible wings onto Dean's bed.

He jumped, eyes moving to hers as her weight settled.

His brown skin darkened to purple in the dim room, but before he could say anything, before
he could even stop his stroking hand, her tiny little body settled on his erection, and started
moving.

Harry watched, astounded, as the tiny, tight pussy stretched impossibly wide to accommodate
the thick erection, and as Dean fell back, helpless to control himself, to even hold back a
groan in his pleasure, likely more than he'd ever felt.

Lilith started to bounce, little body almost fairy-like, now facing her Master as she grinned
saucily, writhing her hips as she fucked herself up and down onto Dean, the whole body
moving nine inches or more up the black boy's huge dick, then back down.

Dean only lasted about forty seconds.

Harry, cock just as solid as it had been for Ginny earlier, could not blame him.

She was too young for him in this form, but watching it still had a certain dark appeal.

Then Lilith blew him a kiss as she lifted off, a little of Dean's seed dripping down her leg, as
her body morphed once again to the form Ron preferred. As she changed, the semen from the
boy she'd just shagged- clearly, he wasn't a virgin to her standards, at least- was absorbed into
the Succubus' flesh.

Then she moved over Ron's head, hovering there, not touching the bed or the wizard.

He likely didn't even know she was there.

Then Lilith winked, and Hermione, eyes locked on Dean's softening member, which dribbled
a little semen still, even while she blew Ron for all she was worth, gasped as Harry hiked one
knee up onto the bed between Ron's legs and presented his cock to her mouth.

Her eyes widened, but after a glance up at him, she opened wider still.

For a moment, Harry felt a slightly nauseous feeling as his penis touched Ron's.

Ron, too, jerked a little.

But then Hermione's mouth closed on them both, and she started moving again.

He couldn't see Ron's face to judge his reaction, but he felt his friend start pumping into
Hermione's oral cavity, thrusting slowly, where before he'd been laying still. There was a
little friction generated between them, and Harry tried hard to focus instead on what
Hermione was doing. It wasn't really difficult.

But after just a few seconds, she pulled away, and whispered, "It's too much- my mouth's
getting tired."

"Get off, then," Ron hissed, "I'll shag you."

"Shag me," Lilith replied quietly from just over him.

Hermione and Ron both froze, but after a moment, the wizard asked, "Hermione?"

"It's fine," she said a second later, "I want to watch. That's what we said, right? It's fair? No
jealousy?"

"None," Harry agreed.

So Hermione climbed off of Ron and moved over to Harry's bed, standing beside it
awkwardly, one hand over her chest and the other on her groin. It wasn't to hide herself,
though, for Harry could see both of her hands moving on herself.

Lilith became visible once more, and Hermione groaned as Ron's eyes widened, then closed
as he started licking at her, both hands sliding up the Succubus' body to fondle her tits.

"That is pretty arousing," Hermione whispered as Harry stepped across the room to join her.

"Yeah... you told Ginny we're lovers," he mentioned.

Hermione nodded, not looking away. "I was... surprised how well she took it."

"She's my pet now," Harry informed her a little quieter, "Forever, she said. Like- like Lilith is,
but a witch."

"She's a strong Sub. Um... I'll have to explain later."

"I think I get it," Harry whispered back, "Like you are- if you aren't a switch. I think that's
what Lilith called it. You're jealous right now, aren't you."

It wasn't a question.

"No, I'm not-" Hermione protested.

"Of Ron."

She swallowed, then nodded, her face darkening.

"And," Harry followed, quieter still, "You still want Dean to fuck you."

She nodded again with a little less hesitation.

"Well, he can't," Harry informed her, "But I might let you suck him sometime. Turns out he
likes... younger girls. Bit creepy. But you can shag me now, if you want."

"I do," Hermione whispered, "um..."

Harry was debating, too, but just then an idea came to him. "Put your hands on the bed, bend
over."

She obeyed at once, looking over, and sometimes under, her shoulder to watch as Lilith and
Ron switched positions, him sliding into her mouth from above, withdrawing slowly with a
look of rapture on his face, one hand angling himself downward, the other mauling a
generous breast.

Harry, meanwhile, used a hand to align himself with Hermione's slit, sliding himself up and
down it a few times for extra lubrication- it gathered quickly, for she was quite wet- before
pushing inside. As always, he felt like home the moment he did.

Not just with Hermione, though it was a powerful feeling with her, only Ginny was as strong,
but with almost everyone he'd been with.

Even Pansy.

"I shagged Pansy like this, before even you," he said quietly, "On the real Astronomy Tower
over the parapet. She came so hard, before she knew it was me- and came again as I did into
her mouth."

"You can come in my cunt instead," Hermione groaned, letting her body fall a little onto her
elbows, changing the angle again. When she landed, though, Harry grinned to see the girl's
torso and neck bent so that she could watch the two on the bed across the dorm while he
mounted her.

"I will, dirty girl," Harry assured her, "you aren't upset?"

"I hope-" Hermione gasped between thrusts, "you- gave that bitch- every- everything- she
deserved."
"I did," Harry chuckled, leaning over her and grabbing at a breast, like he had with Pansy.
"Just like this. Probably gave her burns on her tits from the stones, too. Made Draco watch-
he never even got up. Maybe he's impotent, though I guess somehow Umb... never mind."

"You- you aren't-" Hermione moaned, "Filling me up... gods, she's so pretty."

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Ron on his back again, Lilith facing them, while Ron
held her arse open with both hands.

"Yeah- so're you, you know," Harry reminded her, "We both want you, too, just as much. And
she's a Succubus."

Lilith, behind him, smiled.

"Nng... just... just want my pussy..."

"Not just," Harry hissed, leaning over and pushing her further into the bed, so her knees
collapsed under his weight, and started pounding in earnest, "Your tits, your throat and
mouth... and your brains. We love those, too, and your courage."

"But mostly the pussy," Ron called softly from across the room, making Lilith and Harry
laugh.

"Just for you," Hermione groaned, "Pussy's- only for you two... fuck... soon."

Harry, too, felt an orgasm rapidly approaching.

"On your knees, Hermione," Harry whispered, standing upright again.

She paused, but obeyed as he pulled out.

Then, as she settled, mouth opened, he pushed in, and let loose, using his hands on his best
friend's head while he forced her to deep-throat him, shooting load after load down her hot
throat.

"Pansy took it like that, too," he said quietly as he pulled out, "Only she couldn't take it all."

A bleary-eyed Hermione groaned, as she weakly climbed up onto his bed.

"Shame, Master," Lilith whispered, "She didn't come again. She was so close..."

"Well, I can fix that," Harry muttered, "Lay back, my love."

Tiredly, Hermione obeyed, this time with her knees in the air much like Ginny had done
outside, and Harry resumed his position, too.

As he pushed in again, still hard thanks to Lilith's runes, Hermione moaned.

Across the room, Ron groaned as he started pulsing his own climax into Lilith, who
shuddered and smiled, slowing her bounces as he filled her, then sliding off as it ended,
cleaning him, too, with her mouth in the same way she liked to do for Harry.

"Night," the ginger murmured, barely throwing the blanket over himself and closing the
curtains before he passed out.

Lilith had crossed the room to finger herself by the bed, smiling down as Harry fucked
Hermione.

Then the Succubus pulled, from her vagina, a little bit of white goo. "Ron's cum, Hermione,"
she whispered, showing it to the exhausted girl.

Without being asked, Hermione opened her mouth, accepting the gift, which she savored
before swallowing with a smile.

"If you want more, you have to earn it."

The witch's eyes widened along with Harry's, and both their eyes went to the hairless snatch
of the Succubus.

Hermione only hesitated for a moment, "Gods... alright. Fine, I'll eat you out... I'm so close."

With a canary-eating grin, Lilith winked once more at Harry and, still in Ron's preferred
form, climbed atop Hermione's face, looking at Harry.

He watched, then, as the girl started licking and laving, even putting her hands to work,
delving as deeply with her tongue as she could to get at Ron's seed.

Which didn't seem to be coming. Harry grinned- likely, Lilith had absorbed it, and was
tricking the girl.

Not that he minded.

"Lilith," he murmured, "Maybe Hermione would cum faster if you return the favor?"

"Good idea, Master," Lilith purred, then leaned down over the witch.

Watching the two perform cunnilingus on each other was quite enough for Harry, who filled
Hermione even as both he and Lilith made the witch scream into the rosette's cunt.

He, too, barely remembered to close the curtains, though he and Hermione were both nude
atop the blankets when he fell asleep.
 Morning Wood
Chapter Summary

Hermione finally gets some of her long-awaited conversation with Lilith, and learns to
enjoy her a bit more in the bargain.
Of course, Harry can't be left out...
Note: Oliver Wood does not appear in this chapter. lol

AN: I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories
feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains
in my stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of
the time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write.
Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death-
including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real
life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction
fairly without including them.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. I know, I know... FFnet sucks lately. I agree. But honestly,
it really does help me out when people read what I've got there, too. :)

EDIT: If you saw this on Pokemon: Truth and Lies, oops! I posted it to the wrong story by
mistake. Thanks to Bigd who pointed out the error for me. ;)

Chap. 18: Morning Wood

Hermione started awake as the bed shifted, bolting upright and reaching for her wand. A hand
intercepted her own, though, causing the panicked girl, who feared an attack after the trauma
of the previous few days, to punch out as her father had taught her. That hand, too, was
caught in another.

"Hold it, Hermione," a peaceful, soft voice made her blink and take a moment to assess the
situation before lashing out again.

What she found made her face, her whole body, heat up along with the memory of the night
before that had led her to her current position. She was lying nude, her skirt having come off
in the night somehow, alongside Harry in his dorm bed, and the hand she'd first reached for
her wand with was just an inch or so from gouging the sleeping wizard's eyes.

He, as she remembered, was naked too, and smelled strongly of sex, sweat, lust, and man.
His hair was more tousled than normal, but for once he seemed peaceful, calm, even serene
as he slept, mouth just slightly open.

The witch's other hand, curled into a decent fist though it was slackening quickly, was
extended over Harry's neck toward the slender throat of the curvaceous, twenty-something
model's body capped by rose-pink hair with deeper, almost violet eyes that she recognized as
belonging to Harry's Succubus.

"You'll wake him if you move too fast," the rosette said softly, then slowly let go of her hands
before shifting from her half-upright form to sitting cross-legged, facing both of them with
the boy supine, their heads on her left. "I was hoping we could have a minute or two to talk,
uninterrupted. Sorry if I woke you, though, that wasn't my intention. I was just going to feed
from Master."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Feed? I thought you said he was safe from you?"

"He is," Lilith replied, stifling a giggle, "I'm simply going to suck his cock... unless you
prefer the honors? He'll feed me after, if you prefer."

"S- suck... er... but he's asleep," Hermione whispered, propping herself more casually on one
arm as she gestured with her left hand down at him.

"His dick isn't," the other replied, using her own hand to point at the tent below the sheets.
"Morning wood isn't at all unusual for any man, especially a young, vigorous one like
Master."

Hermione snorted, "I suppose that's true. But I... no, I don't think I will. Somehow I think the
scent would... put me off."

"Oh?"

Hermione nodded, wrinkling her nose. "I mean, Harry doesn't smell bad, but... semen and
sweat that's sat on someone, especially in close quarters like that without airing out, can't be...
pleasant."

"Mm," the Succubus purred, pulling the blankets down to reveal the very region in question
before taking a long draw with her pert nose, "I rather think Master's musk is arousing. But
suit yourself. Still, I do want to talk, if you don't mind, first."

"Sure, I guess," Hermione replied, making no move to get up and leave, though a part of her
wondered why, or what she would do if the Succubus did start blowing her best friend with
her lying there. If she were honest with herself, the last conversation they'd had, in the library,
had surprised Hermione a great deal. Somehow, despite being an obviously sentient creature,
the studious witch had made several assumptions about the otherworldly being that she was
quickly finding did not hold water.
She had assumed, with obvious reason, that Lilith would want to hurt Harry in some way.
That's just what Succubi in myths did. They seduced men to their deaths, or the loss of their
soul, or whatever. Yet Lilith genuinely only seemed interested in fulfilling her Contract with
Harry, and having a lot of fun doing it. Another assumption with equal likelihood was that
Lilith would only be interested in sex, and ruin Harry for other women.

Yet the truth seemed to be anything but. Sexually aware, absolutely. Even sexually focused.
Yet, the creature seemed bound and determined not just to fuck everything that moved, but to
help out Harry and his friends (Hermione included, despite her own early reluctance and
caution), whether that be through advice, input, physical aid, or... stress relief. Even
Hermione could appreciate the latter, though. As cerebral as she could be, sex did feel good
in every permutation she'd experienced so far, and she was eager to explore more, whether it
be for the pleasure it brought or some depraved form of intellectual curiosity didn't seem to
matter.

Morgana, I've eaten out the Succubus and had her go down on me twice now, and it's been
amazing both times. I mean, I don't really find women attractive in general, but if Lilith is any
proof, the mouth feels about the same. And there's still something so... so erotic about it on
my end, too.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Lilith asked quietly as her hand landed on Harry's dick, trailing
just a few fingertips up and down the length.

Hermione felt herself flush again as she realized she was still naked and that the other woman
was looking more at her breasts than Harry, but pushed the thought aside. It's not like she
hasn't seen- or doesn't have- better anyway. Even if my breasts are probably my best feature.
"I... I was just thinking about you, actually. How I... was wrong about you. At least, so far."

"Wrong about me? Oh... your suspicions?"

Hermione nodded a bit sheepishly, choosing not to elaborate if Lilith wasn't going to dwell on
the details.

"Well, I'm glad to have put some of your fears to rest, then. I admit they weren't without
reason given the legends about my kind, but while I do have a few secrets still, I hope you
can trust that I truly do have Master's best interests at heart. Even if that means going against
the Contract and being sent home."

"You'd go that far?"

Lilith nodded, looking down at Harry with an almost wistful smile, "He's... come a long way
from the boy he was just a few weeks ago when he summoned me. I was fond of him then,
but now... if he could survive being surrounded by my kind forever, I'd gladly try to take him
home when I leave just to stay near him. But doing so would kill him, so that wouldn't work."

"But he would hate that- being taken away from us."

"Another reason why I wouldn't," Lilith agreed, shifting her hands to glide her whole palm
over his length, "but I admit I'm tempted even so. Most Succubi end up completely
dominating their Contractor's lives, because they simply can't handle us, even with the
benefits we bring. Imagine your normal bloke able to have sex all day, every day, and having
access to a shape-shifting woman who never gets tired of it?"

"They'd starve to death, if the dehydration doesn't get them first," Hermione said with a
laugh. Mirth that quickly faded when she looked up at Lilith's flat expression.

"Exactly. Most of the time, that's exactly what happens when we get Summoned. Master still
being alive and in good health- he's actually in far better health- after three weeks is almost a
miracle. It's not that he's made for sex, though he may as well be now. It's that he actually
exercises some self-discipline, and knows that sex isn't everything. He knows what he wants,
and he is willing to take it, but he doesn't just want one climax after the other with the most
gorgeous women he can imagine."

"That does sound pretty rare," Hermione attempted to joke again.

This time, Lilith smiled, "I've seen the minds of most every male- and female- in the castle,
and the nearby village. I can guarantee you, not one of them, even your Headmaster, could
have lasted this long if they had bound a Succubus. But Master did, and since he has, he's
proven himself a true rarity, of priceless value to us all."

"In more than one way," Hermione agreed, feeling suddenly solemn about her best friend,
"It's... nice, having someone else say out loud just how precious Harry is."

"That too. I meant to our kind specifically, though. Think about it- we need the proteins in
your bodily excretions to reproduce and to create... well, just about anything on our plane of
existence. Human, specifically, though human-like creatures can work in a pinch. Animals,
although we can get pleasure from them, are not capable of the same thing. Only human
fluids will do."

Hermione pushed the disturbing thought of zoophilia away for a moment, choosing to focus,
as usual, on the more academic question at the forefront of her mind, "How exactly does that
work?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Lilith admitted, "It's not exactly my field of study, and I'm relatively
young. Something in the genetic structure, I believe, the specific gene proteins, are something
that does not naturally occur where we live, yet are necessary for our species to procreate.
Somewhere in our distant past, we came from this world or one like it. No one is really sure
which. The first of us, according to our legends, was as mutable as I am, but not all of us are,
only a few. Maybe... ten percent of us. Of those, about half volunteer as summons after our
training is complete and we've reached 'adult' status. But that's not an exact analogue.
Technically, I'm a 'teenager' as far as age and education goes, but I've 'graduated'. A bit early,
but still graduated."

"Go on," Hermione urged, thoroughly distracted by the hand-job she was only partially
watching, turning most of her attention to watching the soft pink lips move as the succubus
continued to explain.
"That one, and maybe one other, was banished to our world, or something like that. Maybe
your world's... well, I don't know, there are some apocryphal legends or something that talk of
a mythical first wife for your Adam, before Eve, who would not submit. No official record of
her is known to exist as far as we know, but there are still stories floating around. My
personal feeling is that there's at least a grain of truth to that, and it's that being's name that
Master gave me."

"M- Harry named you Lilith?"

"Mm, hmm," the Succubus grinned happily, "and I find it quite suitable. Anyway, so Master's
seed, as the Contractor, is specifically for me. I keep all of it inside me, and its genetic
material allows me to grow in several ways. I can do more with my body- assuming smaller
or larger shapes, for example- and can use the magical essence within it to perform more
powerful effects. The main use, however, is to grow the connection between us... which
makes us both more powerful."

"How, exactly?"

"Again, I'm not sure. But I can give you a few examples. I've demonstrated for Master most
of my abilities, but I've kept them quiet for a reason outside of him. You, I trust to keep the
knowledge safe. When we first Bonded, I could sense his direction relative to me, his rough
distance, and his emotional state if he was within about a mile. Now, our bond is much
stronger, and we could speak telepathically- even if it was broken up- from here to your
Ministry, which as I understand it is almost on the other side of the country."

Hermione whistled, "Wow, I didn't know that had a limit, or that you haven't been doing so
the whole time."

Lilith nodded and grinned, "You saw Dean shoot his load last night, right?"

Hermione blushed and looked down, but whispered, "I saw it… interrupted. You were... on
him, weren't you? Invisible?"

"Sure was. Master asked me to distract him so he wouldn't notice him joining in your fun,
and I was happy to do it. But the way he asked me required a brief mind-dive, using a branch
of that same power to read his deepest dreams. That's something I can barely do even with a
recharge- which is why I'll need more than one feeding today to maintain my strength- and
something I did on Umbridge to figure out the best way to get rid of her. Nasty woman."

"Ugh. I was just getting into you wanking Harry, but now..."

"Sorry," Lilith giggled, "but anyway, that's the main purpose of Master's semen for me. That,
and keeping me here. It's the default price for the Contract, and I had to get that from him.
There's some leeway based on my willingness, but basically I require at least one load from
him every day I remain here. I can go up to about a week without it as long as the loads are
made up, and I can get some in other ways, but that's the upper limit. Fortunately, Master is
always willing and able.
"The others... yours, Ron's, Dean's, every other person in the Castle I can get fluids from- and
that's all of them, per Master's wishes now- and in the village, I store those in my body, too,
but in a different way. They're... well, not compatible. I can't, actually can not, use them to
grow myself. Because Master and I are Bonded, he is a part of me in a way, and I am a part of
him. That's why I can use his material to grow- it's almost like my Body Morphology ability
in how it works. It's literally taking him into me, making him part of me, and then... changing
that part, except it works on more than just my body."

"Huh. That makes sense, I suppose. So what happens to the other... stuff? Like... I assume
you've taken some of mine, too." Hermione wanted to feel a little squicky about discussing
her own vaginal fluids, but the memory of just how delightful Harry's big dick plunging her
depths and Lilith's tongue on her clit at the same time had made her feel pushed that to the
side quickly.

"Your honey flavor is delectable," Lilith sighed happily, switching her hand to actively
stroking Harry, though she did so slowly and casually, "And yes. It's really all the same, I
take the material- and yes, I know women don't have the same kind of genetic material as
men, and there isn't the same gene packets in it. But your eggs don't do the same thing. Don't
ask me why, I don't know. Anyway, so I take that and it basically gets broken down into
component parts and 'stored'. It doesn't take up 'space', or if it does it's so small it's
unnoticeable. It exists within us, yet not. When I return to my world, whenever that is, it will
go with me, and I'll be able to extrude it. There... those of our kind capable of such things,
and no I'm not one of them, will take that and make things out of it. Some of us, myself
included, will be given a portion to work toward creating another Succubus.

"That's fascinating," Hermione murmured, "but how does that part work? Do you... build
yourselves, or something? Assembled from the genetic material?"

"Not exactly," Lilith shook her head, "though we can. It works that way, it's just inefficient.
We... well, if we ingest enough of it and take a certain amount of time, we do eventually
absorb it like a Bond's fluids. From there, we can either make a child within us and carry it, if
we prefer, or... well, bud."

"Bud. Like... a flower?"

"Or a hydra."

"Hydra...? You cut a piece of yourself off, and it... grows into another one of you?"

"No," Lilith shook her head, "the other way around. Like a simple organism Hydra, not a
magical creature Hydra. We grow the other one attached to us, and when it's strong enough to
live on its own, we separate. Not cutting- we can all change our bodies at least a little,
enough for that. We just split apart, like a cell dividing almost."

"Weird."

"Eh. I always preferred the 'natural' way, but I've never actually done either, so... it's hard to
say."
"Could you become pregnant the normal way, if you're in a human body?"

"Actually, yes, but with conditions."

"Such as?"

"Well, it would have to be through Master. Only his seed is compatible enough with me now.
Anyone else is flat-out impossible, and even with a powerfully-Bonded pair it's very rare. If it
happens, the child will essentially be a new Succubus, but capable of Bonding as your kind
does. It's... rare, but it happens. Usually they end up being great leaders of our kind, whether
beneficent or tyrannical. Hasn't been one in a few hundred years, though. Anyway, it's not
likely to happen."

"Why not?" Hermione pressed.

"Well," Lilith shrugged, looking down at Harry's member while she composed her thoughts,
"for one, I'd need to actually look like myself, and while we're humanoid enough and carry
all the necessary parts, it's not normal for a Contractor to want to be with a Succubus that
way. Master didn't seem to mind the one time we did, but I could tell he was distracted all the
same. For another, we both have to want it. Really want it, not just say we do. And our Bond
needs to be as strong as it can possibly be, and we aren't there yet."

"How long would that take? Just for curiosity."

"Mm... at this rate? Two or three years or so. Like most things, the better you get, the stronger
you get, the more work it takes to keep advancing."

"Ah. So... How many Succubi are there in the world? Our world, I mean."

"I don't know," she admitted, "maybe a thousand? Two? There's one near where Master's
relatives live, but I don't know who, and another one somewhere in the country I've felt at a
distance. I think it's just the three of us here. Beyond that... it's just me extrapolating based on
what little I know of the population elsewhere."

"Three for the U.K... I suppose a thousand would be about right," Hermione nodded, "but I'd
be eager to learn the actual figures if you ever find out. You... you mentioned wanting... well,
if Harry hadn't been the one to summon you..."

Lilith looked up, smiling again, "Oh, when you... yes. You're smart, pretty, and friendly.
You'd be a good Mistress, too. I didn't mean anything else by it. You might even make it as
long as Master has."

Hermione snorted, "I'd like to think I have more self-discipline than Harry, thanks."

"You might, you might," Lilith admitted, "now, I'm getting hungry. Any other questions, or
can I eat?"

"No, go ahead," the brunette snorted, and lifted one knee, adjusting her position slightly to
get a better view as Lilith shifted herself downward and opened her mouth wide.
Harry woke to the increasingly-familiar feeling of a mouth on his morning condition, his first
orgasm of the day approaching rapidly.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, careful of the morning light streaming in through the windows,
though he could tell by the shade that his bed-curtains were closed, and the quiet that they
were also silenced.

It was a good thing, because whoever it was going down on him wasn't being quiet. Instead,
she slurped noisily, greedily, while bobbing about half-way down his length and back, the
lower half of his member circled by two hands.

Hands that changed shape as he opened his eyes to reveal Lilith, still in her buxom 'older'
form, his penis disappearing behind her full lips as the violet eyes looked up at him. To his
right, Harry was surprised to see Hermione, still naked as he was, in the bed, one hand idly
fingering herself while she watched Lilith at work.

"Morning," he greeted both quietly, reaching out to put his left hand atop Lilith's head
between her horns, and the other to simply rest against Hermione's waist.

"Morning," the human girl whispered, "You've been asleep for a while, so Lilith decided to
wake you up and- feed, I guess- at the same time."

The Succubus grunted in agreement as her pace increased, smiling around him. Harry
groaned softly, unable to tell for sure if he was dreaming or if his best female friend really
was in his bed, naked after having shagged the night before, pleasuring herself while
watching his pet blow him. Either way, he decided it was a pleasant way to wake up.

"We've been talking," Hermione continued, "She and I. Ron, a bit, too, but he's down to
breakfast already- it's nearing nine. The train will be here in a couple hours."

"I'm surprised you're still here, then," Harry replied, "I'd have thought you'd be making sure
you had everything packed, or at least eating."

"I can eat later," Hermione chuckled, "I woke up at six, like always. Anyway, she told me a
lot of what she's told you- not everything- about how her people... work. Like, the Contract
and everything. So I'm letting her have hers, but I'll want some soon, within the month at
least. Waiting until we meet at Headquarters is too long."

"I agree," Harry nodded, then to Lilith, "Deeper, please."

"Emth, Mffthhr."

She complied at once, sinking to the base and twisting her head to spin around him a little
while she swallowed several times.

"That's.... wow," Hermione groaned, "Don't think I'll ever be able to do that."

The increase in pleasure was just enough to tip Harry over the edge, and he pulsed several
times down Lilith's throat while the witch spoke, barely able to process what she was saying.
After his orgasm had quieted and Lilith pulled away, he said, "You're already pretty close.
Um... should we get going? I'm packed, but..."

"I made sure Ron was," Hermione shrugged as she eyed his still-hard dick, before throwing
one leg over him and settling in, groaning herself as she sheathed him inside herself, "And I
am, too. So there's almost nothing to do... except you."

As the girl started rocking her hips on him, Lilith pointed down between her legs.

Harry followed her finger, then froze momentarily at what he saw. Lilith only winked,
though, as the member- one she didn't normally have- faded away, then pointed at Hermione
and thought to him, "After I've gotten her used to me, that's for her, too. Please? I know you
both said just you and Ron, but... Shapeshifter, remember?"

Harry, most of his attention taken by the girl gyrating atop him, pulled one of Hermione's
heavy breasts into his mouth and started to suckle, the other being worked by his hand while
his other slid down her back to cup the girl's arse, took several seconds to formulate his
equally silent reply, "Yeah, I... I don't know how to feel about that. Knowing you can do that...
but... I guess it's worth trying?"

Lilith didn't reply verbally or with her mind, but instead moved position, settling between his
legs and lowering her head. A few seconds later, he felt Hermione's pace quicken, then the
Succubus' tongue slide along his base, then around his sweaty scrotum, and back up,
vanishing from his ability to sense- no doubt on Hermione- before returning a few seconds
later.

This time, Hermione didn't protest at all.

So with a Succubus licking his balls and Hermione's cunt while the witch rode him from the
top, Harry had his second orgasm of the morning several minutes later, a moment after the
witch came around him.

Only then, with the time now nearing nine-thirty, did he head for the showers, neither girl
accompanying him at his insistence. He really was hungry.
 Destiny Off the Rails

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Chap. 19: Destiny Off the Rails

By noon, the group of friends, Ron, Hermione, Harry (Lilith invisible on his lap), Ginny,
Luna, and Neville, were comfortably engaged in a game of Exploding Snap. Or more
accurately, everyone was playing but Hermione, who was reading in one corner of the train
compartment, and the Succubus.

No one but Hermione had seemed to notice Ginny's limp as she moved around, or the wince
as she hefted her trunk up for Harry to lift into the overhead compartment, but the studious
girl hadn't said anything, hadn't reacted at all except to give Harry a satisfied smirk.

A smirk which made him wonder just how much Ginny and Hermione had been sharing.

To his right, Neville was beaten to the punch by one of Ron's cards, leading the shyer boy's
hand to explode in his face.

Harry's mind wasn't on the game, however.

Instead, he was thinking- and not (solely) about girls.

What did the summer hold? Funerals, no doubt, for some of his friends. He hadn't yet gotten
an invitation, though, so maybe not?

Hermione had told him flat-out just that morning that she wanted to have sex again before the
month was out, if not earlier. Definitely before they met at the Burrow, which was usually
just before Harry's birthday at the end of July.

Ginny too, Harry wanted more of- and she'd been winking at him a lot. Even Ron had
noticed, though he didn't seem to be upset at the insinuation, if he'd even caught the meaning.

True, he had Lilith- and she was, as always, an incredible lover- but he wanted more.

On top of that, he still wanted to bring Voldemort down.

But how could he do that, stuck at the Dursleys’?

There was a knock at the door, and most of them looked up, expecting...

But it was not Draco Malfoy who opened the door, though it was a Slytherin. A first-year, by
the look of her, no older than twelve. She glanced nervously inside, then held out an
envelope. "Mr. P-Potter? An- an older girl asked me to g- give this to y-you."

Harry reached for it slowly, "Thanks, Miss...?"

But the girl squeaked as the letter, to her eyes, was snatched from her hand before he reached
it, and she bolted from the compartment door, leaving it open.

Lilith, as she closed the door, became visible to the rest. Luna, for her part, only glanced up at
the Succubus briefly, then down again at the cards, and said, "Pleased to meet you, Lady of
Dreams. I'm Luna Lovegood."

"I go by Lilith, Childe of the Moon," Lilith replied distractedly, turning the envelope over and
over in her hands, before handing it to Harry. "I'm not detecting any magic on it at all. Should
be safe."

"Thanks for checking," Harry said, then opened the envelope with his friends, aside from
Luna, who used the distraction to switch several cards in her hand with those in the stack,
which was quite against the rules.

Mr. Potter,

One more for the road? The boy's loo in your car, last stall. I'm waiting.

-The one who knows who you are.

Harry frowned. The broom-closet girl...?

Still, despite being surrounded by two- no, three, now- lovers, and with another cute (if very
spacey and loopy) girl, the thought did have some appeal... Ron aside, Harry wasn't going to
shag any of them with Neville and Luna present. Or Hermione in front of Ginny, and so on.

Even if they knew... that might be awkward.

And even if he'd already gotten off twice that morning...

"Er, I need to have a quick meeting, apparently," Harry informed everyone at once, stuffing
the note in his pocket and reaching into his robes for his Cloak. "Lilith can play for me, or
run escort, if you guys don't think it's safe."

"I think I'll go with you, Master," the Succubus said, "It's clear Miss Lovegood will win,
anyway."

"Maybe," Harry grinned, mostly at Ron's face as he tried to figure out what they knew that he
didn't.

The door slid closed behind them without protest, Lilith walking invisibly behind him.
The loo was just a few doors down, they were near the end of the car, and Harry had to get
past only a few students chatting animatedly about summer plans in the corridor to get inside.

There, he passed two more boys, including Dean, who was washing his face and looking
exhausted, to enter the last stall.

The person sitting on the toilet was not who he was expecting.

"H-"

The blonde Hufflepuff's angry glare made him fall silent before more than that got out, and
her wand quickly circled in the air as she hissed, "Silencio."

A moment later, she stood up, hurriedly shucking her robes and undoing button after button
of her blouse, before dropping it, too, and pushing her skirt down to her ankles. "Come on,
Potter. I swore to Susan I'd lose my virginity this year, and the bloke I want to do it is being
shy."

Harry watched with wide eyes and, no doubt, a shocked expression on his face as the buxom
Hannah Abbot stood, clad only in bra and knickers, in the small stall, and kicked her clothing
to the side, away from view of anyone else not looking from near the floor level- the gap
beneath the walls was only about an inch.

"I... this- I know who you mean, but-"

Hannah sighed, "Come on, don't be daft. I'm a naked girl, and I know you're randy- I can see
it."

"Of course I am," Harry protested, "But this- it's a little... sudden, don't you think? I mean,
didn't you say better we shagged than I knew... who you were?"

He had not expected Hannah to be the broom-closet girl.

He also didn't expect the girl to rush across the small space and grab him by the lapel of his
robes, pushing him violently against the door to hiss into his face, eyes wet with tears, "That
was before I almost died! Before Neville told me he fancied me, before he told me he was
scared, too! But I know you've been shagging people, and I don't want my first time with him
to be something he's scared of, so I want you to shag me, okay? Then- then, when it's him it
won't... it won't hurt, and he doesn't have to be scared."

Slowly, Harry's hands came up to Hannah's shoulders as understanding dawned. "Hannah...

look, I won't say I'm not interested- I am. You're very pretty, and obviously I see that. It's
great that you've noticed Neville fancies you, and you him. But if there's one thing I've
learned about sex recently it's... Important. If you want him, be with him."

"He won't," Hannah sobbed, "I've tried. You know, he told me about your friend? The one
that- that went down on him? To give him some practice? I went down on you- and many
other people- to get practice for him! But he won't do it, says we should wait, or I should
shag you, first! This was his idea, Potter."
Harry swallowed. That...

His brain could not process that last bit.

By the time he gave up, his pants were around his ankles, and Hannah was gulping on his
head. But he was already hard- and he had one way to prove once and for all if she was being
truthful. "No... up on the loo," he ordered, pulling Hannah up by the shoulders and pushing
her back.

He came forward with her, and aligned himself with her mouth, pushing in a few times as she
opened it, before pulling back and settling to his knees as he pushed Hannah's knees apart.

The Hufflepuff had a thin strip of blonde-white hair, thickly curled but well-trimmed- likely
that very morning- at the stop of her slit, which glistened and reeked of arousal.

Pushing the thought of the loo beneath her, just inches from his mouth, to the side, Harry
leaned in and started licking, both hands on her thighs for the moment.

It took him only a moment to decide- the taste of ginger.

It's really her. Huh. Is she telling the truth about the rest...?

Still, relieved that Hannah seemed to be truthful, Harry let himself relax, diving in and
enjoying her folds with his tongue and lips. She was fleshy, mounded more than any girl he'd
been with so far including Marietta- no doubt due to her slightly thicker figure- but well-
shaped and clean, with labia that, aroused, just peaked past her mons and a clit large enough
to peek out from the hood visibly.

A clit that he suckled on, pulling once with his lips then with just suction, before moving up
the girl's heaving stomach and chest to her large teats, half bent over her. "You should know,
Hannah," Harry said softly as his hands fell on her engorged nipples, "I'm a lot bigger than
Neville- it will hurt. He's not small, but don't judge him by me. I'm- oddly large."

"I know," she whispered, "I sucked you off, remember? That's why I picked you- I know it
won't hurt after you when Neville and I shag."

He nodded, "Also, I wouldn't say no to shagging you again sometime- as long as Neville
doesn't mind. I wouldn't want to hurt our friendship."

Hannah, too, nodded, but said nothing.

"Hike your hips forward a bit," Harry instructed, "this really isn't going to be comfortable,
but..."

The girl did as he asked, and he aligned his member with her entrance. "Last chance...? You
know it can take a while for me."

Her glare was the only answer he got.

And when Harry pushed forward, Hannah Abbot screamed. Fortunately, the muffling charm
did its job, and his hand on her mouth did the rest.

After she stopped screaming several seconds later, reduced to soft whimpers and pants,
nearly hyperventilating, Harry gently removed his hand so he could wipe her tears. "I'm
sorry," he murmured, "but you did insist."

Hannah's vaginal walls were already fluttering around him, painfully tight and liquidy from
what he knew would be a heavy amount of blood and arousal both. But he didn't move,
mindful this time that she wasn't his girl, she was one of his good friends'. The feeling of
home, too, was not present. He would not, could not, claim her and be true to Neville, true to
himself. So, gently as he could, he pulled out several minutes later, only an inch, and eased
back in. "Is that okay?"

Hannah hesitated, then nodded once, slowly. "It's... it still hurts, but not- not that bad, I
guess."

Belatedly, Harry thought, "Can you do anything for her pain, Pet?"

"On it, Master- rub her clit a few times, that will help, too."

Just as gently as before, he obeyed, using the pad of his left thumb to circle Hannah's hood,
not daring to touch the bare nerve bundle, then started easing out again, achingly slowly, then
back in after a few seconds.

Too, he felt Lilith's hand settle over his, one of her own fingers slipping between his thumb
and forefinger to touch Hannah's clitoris directly, then slid downward to touch his penis and
the edge of Hannah's channel, and withdraw.

A few seconds later, the agony on Hannah's face began to fade, and her breathing started to
even out, though it remained rapid. "That's... that's not so bad, anymore. You- you can go
faster, Potter."

Harry did so, only quickening his pace slowly, easing into a steady rhythm far slower than his
normal, but about twice as fast as he had been going, hands moving once again to the
ponderous breasts, which were capped by wide, dark areolae and nipples that were average,
but seemed smaller on the soft globes, which had a little sag.

The angle of the loo was a bit hard on Harry's knees, since he had to be on them to reach
Hannah's twat, but the eroticism of shagging one of his best friend's soon-to-be-lover in the
loo, with people likely outside just the stall, was not to be denied.

And she was tight, so very tight, and hot, and unlike Pansy, quite wrinkled inside. The ribbed
walls of her vagina clutched and pulled at Harry's erection almost like Lilith's throat and
mouth had when she'd transformed it into something resembling the creature from her world.

"You're amazing," Harry gasped, "You've got a spectacular cunt, Hannah. Neville's going to
love fucking you."
The blonde's eyes, soft, sky blue, were half-rolled back into her head as she half-sat, half-lay
on the loo, and she didn't respond verbally.

Instead, her thighs, powerful and muscley more than fatty, wrapped around his waist and
pulled him in, harder and harder, with each thrust, until he was hammering into her, and she
gasped with each thrust.

"I could- could finish soon," he said a minute or so later, the exquisite feel of her virginal
cunt- the second in two days, no less- around him bringing Harry rapidly to the end of this
round. "Where- where d'you want it?"

This time, Hannah answered immediately, "My- my mouth. Same- d-deal."

Harry nodded. Fair price for her virginity... It was fair for a round of fellatio, it was a more
than fair deal for this.

But Harry could not let her go with no climax of her own, and Hannah, for some reason,
hadn't yet done so- the pain, perhaps.

So one hand drifted down to her clit again, whizzing back and forth across it as Lilith had
taught him, even while he continued to slap into the girl, his balls crashing again and again
into her rump, the other hand supporting himself while he leaned down and started sucking
her tits with his mouth.

He'd gone from right, to left, and back before Hannah's back arched and she started to keen,
her cunt around him pulling harder than ever.

Harry grimaced, held himself still as she climaxed, then yanked free and stood up tall,
thrusting himself into Hannah's clenched mouth, forcing his way past her teeth painfully,
unable to bear holding back any longer.

Hannah choked on his cum, swallowed, then started milking the rest as her hands flew to his
arse, pulling him closer.

Once he was dry, Harry pulled himself away, half-erect, and stepped back to give Hannah
room to breathe while he gathered up his trousers and straightened his robes.

"Okay," the girl eventually said as her breathing came under control, "for that orgasm, you
don't have to taste yourself. Shit, Potter. I hope Neville's half as good as you."

"If not, you know where- and how- to find me."

She grinned, looking up at him, still nude and glistening with sweat. "That I do. Hey- you,
uh... you said you find Susan attractive, don't you?"

Harry snorted, "Every straight bloke in the Castle finds Susan attractive."

"Hm. Really?"

Harry nodded, "Really. She could have her pick."

Hannah frowned for a moment, then smiled. "Next term, I might have a deal for you. New
terms, you could say."

"Alright. Erm... you going to be okay getting out of here?"

Hannah nodded, "Eventually. I... told Neville to come find me later, so I might wait. I might
just rest a bit while I dry."

Harry grinned. "Coast clear?"

Receiving the affirmative from his Succubus, Harry double-checked his clothing and stepped
out. A glance in the mirror told him he was a bit flushed, and his robes were slightly tented,
but he'd survive.

The train pulled back into King's Cross right on schedule, and from there, after a quick threat-
match with several members of the Order of the Phoenix including Mad-Eye Moody that
Vernon Dursley very much lost, Harry was on his way back to his relatives'.

Only this time, shrunken down to literally the size of his middle finger, Lilith was resting in
the pocket of his shirt.

So, despite the tense silence and his Uncle's furious glares through the rear-view mirror the
entire way, Harry could not bring himself to be upset. This time...

He wasn't going to be alone.

Harry had made two trips into the house already, bringing his owl, Hedwig (who was quite
unhappy at how he'd been neglecting her lately) in the first trip, his recovered Firebolt racing
broom in the second, and had just shut the door behind him with a foot, his heavy school
trunk in both hands, when a thick, meaty hand fell on his shoulder.

"Boy," his uncle said, voice low and quiet, "I don't know what you're playing at, or how you
put those- those freaks at the station up to threaten me, but I will not have it, you hear me?
You'll write your little letters every three days, and send them off with your- your owl after
ten, when decent people aren't awake to see it. And I swear to you, boy, if one of them shows
up before it's time... I've got a new toy to show them. You understand?"

Harry had never watched a lot of telly growing up due to never being allowed, but he'd seen
enough to recognize the two parallel metallic tubes in his peripheral vision. Where his uncle
had gotten the double-barrelled shotgun was anyone's guess, but Harry doubted he'd come by
it legally. Nor, he knew, was it the first time he'd purchased one, since Hagrid had bent a
similar device on the night they'd met.

Vernon Dursley's closest contact with sports of any kind was his son, Dudley, who'd taken up
boxing, and snacking constantly while watching the telly. Sport-shooting, then, was right out,
and Harry knew that, even then, Her Majesty's Government required the most strict of
registrations, permits, and fees for even that limited use, and that firearms for protection, of
home or self, were strictly illegal. Furthermore, if there was one thing Vernon hated more
than Harry and 'his kind', it was giving money to the government.

Yet, as the hand left his shoulder, the twin barrels tapped him in the same spot, solidly
reminding him, just in case he'd forgotten in the last three seconds, of its existence and
proximity. Didn't he learn his lesson from Hagrid, though?

"Right," Harry said quietly, "Anything else?"

Vernon only grunted, stepping away into the living room, leaving Harry to lug the trunk up
the stairs alone.

Except, by the third step, Lilith had clambered from his pocket, invisible to all but himself,
and expanded to her full-figured adult shape behind him, then reached a hand to take one of
the handles. Harry sighed with relief as the Succubus took some of the weight- he could carry
it, but it was heavy. "Thanks," he murmured, turning to walk backwards up the stairs.

Lilith only winked saucily as she followed him and the trunk.

Once the door had shut behind them, Trunk resting at the foot of his second-hand bed, Lilith
and he looked around. Harry's room hadn't been touched, it seemed, since he'd gone to
school, and a thick layer of dust had accumulated on each surface. He was a little
embarrassed at the clutter he'd left in his haste to pack the previous summer. With Tonks'
help, he'd gotten everything essential, but there was quite a bit of mess, including some of his
old briefs laying next to the hamper.

A hamper which, unless he was much mistaken, was half-full of very smelly laundry. "Er,
sorry about the mess," he muttered to his companion, "I left in a bit of a hurry. I'll... just tidy
up, shall I?"

"Sure," Lilith said just as quietly, seeming a bit distracted, but paying attention as she could,
"This place isn't very safe yet. I mean, for you, it probably is, or your Headmaster wouldn't
put you here. But for me, it's not the best- I'll take more feeding than I did at the school, until
I can set it up as an extension of my territory. It should take a few days, tops."

Harry nodded, wrinkling his nose as the armful of laundry he'd gathered in that short time
made its way into the hamper. "There should be more, uh... extras, around. Little Whinging
has a population of something like fifteen thousand people right in the area- as close as
Hogsmeade Village was, maybe closer."

"I can feel some of them," the Succubus said with a grin, "There's plenty of energy- your
cousin's in his room, putting out some right now. Not sure I want to gather his, though."

"I didn't need to hear that," Harry complained, turning his attention to some of the old
schoolwork sitting on the rickety desk, then decided to toss the lot. He wouldn't need it after
his O.W.L. year, most likely. "My cousin wanking is not something I need to know about."

"I don't know," Lilith teased, "he's rather excited. He must have found a skin mag."
This time, Harry actually laughed, forcing himself to stop after a moment when his uncle
yelled, "Boy!"

"No, probably not. Magazines- he had a few, a couple years ago, but I stole them and he
never replaced them since he has a computer. There's a lot more, uh- material, for that sort of
thing- than there was even just ten years ago, or even five."

"Really?"

Harry nodded, "I've never been able to find much myself- only been on the 'internet' once
outside of school, before I started Hogwarts and I was just ten then- but I've heard it's
everywhere if you just look. Lots of dangers to it, viruses and computer bugs, but it's there if
you want it."

"Interesting. So... what do you do for fun?"

"Read," the young man answered, nodding toward his trunk and the small bookshelf full of
worn novels he'd collected, "I tried writing, but I don't think I have much imagination for it,
or patience. Toward the end of my stay here, I usually end up walking around the
neighborhood when I'm not doing chores."

She grunted, stepping to the bed and poking it, then stripping it of the top blanket in one
motion. Both of them coughed at the dust that threw into the air, then she dropped it
unceremoniously to the floor and flopped down onto the sheets. "Ow... no... this won't do at
all. You're getting a new bed as soon as I can arrange it."

"How d'you propose to do that?" Harry asked. He figured she could- Lilith was nothing if not
sexy, but beyond that, resourceful. She had to have a plan.

"Well, you mentioned there's a guest room?"

Harry nodded, "But I'm not sleeping on that mattress. My Aunt Marge sleeps on it."

Lilith grunted, trying to stretch luxuriously out on the thin mattress, but only half-succeeding
as she winced and started running small hands over her lithe body, over whatever passed for
clothes.

"I was also thinking," Harry said, trying to ignore the girl trying to seduce him (and
succeeding) while he continued cleaning, "Of working out a bit more over the summer.
Quidditch and your Runes are helping, I'm sure, but I wouldn't mind being in better shape
than I am now."

"It wouldn't hurt you to exercise," the Succubus agreed, putting both hands behind her head
and closing her eyes, wincing again as she continued to try and find a comfortable spot on the
mattress. It was an activity he was familiar with, but also knew was futile. "But you don't
really need it. You are pretty fit, and the strength- and stamina-enhancing Runes work in part
by making you your 'best self'. You'll see an increase in muscle mass if you work out, yes, as
that will change your 'best self' into a stronger you, but it won't be large unless you start
doing strength training specifically. But with your build... Was your father slender?"
Harry's breath, caught off-guard by the question, caught in his throat.

Still, after all these years, despite barely remembering anything but the moments before his
mother's death, the thought of them was enough to bring Harry to extremes of emotion in an
instant. Anger, that they were gone. Rage, at the man- the creature- who had taken them.
Sadness, for the lives unfulfilled. Grief, for him, personally. Longing for that connection he
would never truly have again.

It was this latter emotion that stopped Harry cold, holding his well-read copy of Quidditch
Through the Ages in one hand, and a loose sheaf of schoolwork from fourth year in the other.

"I never really knew them," he eventually said, staring blankly toward the wall, "But I
suppose subconsciously I knew what they looked like, and Hagrid- our Care of Magical
Creatures teacher, who Umbridge sacked before I summoned you last year- gave me a photo
album my first year. Here, you can look at it."

Harry turned to face Lilith briefly, shooting her a wistful smile, then set the papers in the
trash and the book on the end of the bed before opening his trunk. There, sitting in pride of
place, the center top, was the album.

Lilith took it with just the same level of reverence Harry displayed in handling it, deliberately
not commenting when her master seemed reluctant to actually let go.

She, of course, already knew what Harry's parents looked like, having taken the information
from his own mind, but acted as if she did not while opening the album. "Your mother is
beautiful."

"Thanks," Harry said, voice husky.

"And your father is very handsome. He does have a slender build. You will probably be a bit
bulkier, though, from the Runes. And you..."

"Have my mother's eyes."

Lilith smiled across the room at Harry, who was facing away again, now holding a pair of
novels in one hand, and a school book in the other. "You get that a lot, huh?"

"Every time someone sees the pictures, or meets me if they knew my parents."

"I bet it's hard, hearing that."

Harry shrugged and started working again as she flipped through the pages slowly. "It used to
be. Now it... makes me feel good, I guess."

The wizard's pace quickened, and by the time Lilith was finished with the photos, Harry was
gathering up the bedclothes for washing, his hamper-load just finishing its wash cycle
downstairs. When he returned from starting the next load, Lilith stood up from the now-bare
mattress. "So, your parents left you some money?"
Harry nodded, suddenly feeling wary, even suspicious, not that he truly felt Lilith would use
him like that. "Yeah... why?"

The Succubus grinned, her body morphing into a statuesque blonde and with a business suit
shimmering into view around her. "You can do better than this, that's all," she said softly,
gesturing around the room.

Harry sighed, "I don't want to, though. Not- not here. When I'm gone."

She crossed the room and lifted her hands to pull Harry into a hug. When she backed away,
Lilith moved her hands to his shoulders and said firmly, "Like it or not, you are a leader of
men. The clothes, they say, make the man. So consider this an exercise in self-confidence.
Also..." She looked over her shoulder for another moment, "I'm not spending a single night in
that bed with you. So if you want me next to you..."

Harry went stark white, even swaying as the blood rushed from his head. "You'd- you'd cut
me off?"

Lilith laughed, lilting and high, "Of course not! The floor, standing works, or sitting. I'm just
not sleeping there, which is what I said. Come on, get your best clothes on. Something
suitable for shopping in public."

Harry frowned but obeyed. As he dressed after a quick shower, he asked, "So what's the
plan?"

The Succubus, still appearing as a mid-twenties woman of near-stunning beauty, gave a little
shrug. "I know we'll probably have to make a few stops, but you said the old woman- Figg- a
street over has a Floo, right?"

Harry nodded. One of many conversations late at night had told the Succubus almost
everything there was to know about his life, and how he'd found out he was a Wizard- and the
events after it.

"I think we can use that to reach Diagon Alley, and from there, get you some Muggle money.
Then we can go from there, but I was intending on updating your wardrobe a bit. Nothing too
severe- just a few nicer outfits, some daywear. Things that fit. A desk, a bed. The rest can
wait, and we can have the furniture delivered."

Harry nodded, sitting on the bed to lace his trainers. "Erm... are you meeting up with me
outside, then?"

Lilith nodded, "Yeah, but-" she faded to translucency, visible only to him, "I'll be having a- a
word, you could say, with your relatives on the way out."

The first stop, then, was Dudley's room. The door slid open two inches with a creak, and
Harry was quite grateful for his cousin's bulk for the first time ever, as he could plainly see
the right lower arm pumping up and down, but didn't see anything through Dudley's girth. On
the computer monitor, two women kissed passionately, hands on each other's privates.
"Stay here, Master," Lilith whispered, then slipped through the door.

Harry frowned as the almost Swedish-looking Succubus rested a hand on his cousin's
shoulder, leaving it there for a few seconds while the large body began to jerk with obvious
orgasm. Her face was passive when she turned away and, with a gesture for Harry to move
back, left the room, shutting it quietly behind her. "He's at least interested in women, I know
you wondered. Very repressed if lesbians is the best he's seen or imagined at his age, but we
can use him."

"Er..."

"For labor, if nothing else, Master," Lilith chuckled quietly, "He's not tiny, but he's not
enough for me, thanks. Your aunt and uncle are downstairs, fortunately in separate rooms."

Indeed, Petunia Dursley was in the kitchen, wiping down the counter- already spotless- while
listening to a gardening program on the little radio she kept in there, or occasionally took
outside when she wanted to make it seem like she did most of the gardening.

She also, somehow, seemed strangely unhappy, despite not having noticed his presence.

Lilith, wings unfurling invisibly, floated over to the woman and pink dust began to waft
down.

Unlike with most of the teens Harry had seen, though, there wasn't an immediate reaction like
reaching for their genitalia, or stripping of clothes. Instead, Petunia only paused, hands
falling still, and started to breathe a little faster, more shallowly.

Lilith then, standing behind her, ran a hand around his Aunt's narrow waist to cup a breast,
making Harry shudder- he did not want to think about her in a sexual way, but at least it was
better than Dudley or Vernon.

Petunia, the moment Lilith released her, collapsed to the floor in a faint, her body twitching
slightly. Again, Lilith whispered in Harry's ear, "They haven't shagged- her and her husband-
since your cousin was born. He's too fat to get it in, apparently, and she won't do more. She's
thinking about a divorce, even, but knows she'd never survive if she did- and what would the
neighbors think? I felt bad, so I gave her a good, hard cum."

Harry groaned. "Both of them?"

Lilith shrugged, "If it makes you feel any better, your uncle isn't likely to get the same from
me any time soon- in any way."

Vernon, predictably, was watching football on the telly, stuffing his face.

Lilith didn't give him Fog of Lust. In fact, she only reluctantly touched the overweight man
on the top of his head with a single finger for a few seconds, as Vernon Dursley drifted to
sleep. Then she sighed, turning to Harry, "It's... kind of pathetic. He's gay. No interest in his
wife. More in you, in fact, not that he'd ever try anything- it's not normal. I... I was going to
make him near-impotent, like I did with Snape and he did to Draco Malfoy, but this is... just
sad. Not sure I want to, anymore."

Harry grimaced, "I don't care, can we just- go? Let's get this over with."

"Sure, Master," Lilith grinned, stepping past him to the door and opening it for him, "After
you."

Shopping with the Succubus was not quite what Harry had expected. Uncomfortable,
occasionally painful trips to the Grocer's or, rarely, clothes shopping for Dudley (always
uncomfortable, and more frequently painful), and the frantic shopping the Weasleys did for
school were what he was familiar with.

But aside from the brief pause at Gringotts to get some money from his vault and change it to
Pounds Stirling- Ms. Figg had given him no trouble for using her Floo, and even said it was
probably safe without his guard- to attend the Alley, as long as he returned before dark.

They hadn't done much shopping there, though, having returned via Knight Bus not to Ms.
Figg's, but to the Friary Guildford, a large shopping mall Harry had been to a few times with
his relatives, which was a few miles from their home.

At their first stop Lilith had purchased, for a reason Harry had not understood at the time, a
smart briefcase, a few yellow legal pads, and two clipboards along with a collection of fine
pens and a few standard pencils.

From there, one of the larger anchor stores, where she'd quickly selected a queen-sized bed,
simple in accoutrements with only a book-shelf style headboard and a low footboard, a pair
of mattresses, and two different linen sets along with a new bedspread and blankets, and a
small, but sturdy desk with locking drawers, and a comfortable office chair that swiveled,
each to be delivered at exactly 6 PM that very day- at an extra charge, of course.

Clothes, too, Lilith had kept to her word, and if anyone thought it strange that an attractive
older (but not by any means old) woman in a business suit was following a younger man
around while selecting clothes for him, and writing on a legal pad, no one said anything.

And to be honest, Harry had quite expected the many looks Lilith was getting.

The gorgeous black girl with a massive afro hairdo, a couple years older than him, that was
continually checking him out as they ate an early dinner was a bit more of a shock, but he (at
Lilith's amused insistence) left a considerable tip, along with his relative's phone number and
address.

At five, he was alone in his room when the doorbell rang.

Time to go.

He was already heading down the stairs when Vernon's angry call of, "Boy, get the door!"
echoed through the house.
That Vernon Dursley was twenty times closer shocked no one that knew him.

Harry's eyes only rolled as he opened it, winked, then turned and called, "I think it's for you,
Uncle Vernon."

With a loud grumble, Vernon Dursley rose from the creaking couch and, wiping greasy hands
on his rump from the chips he'd been munching on, approached.

There, he stopped cold, heart hammering in his chest.

Maybe he wasn't attracted to men after all, not when women could look like that.

Petunia, too, arrived a few seconds later, hands wet from washing dishes, looking a little less
unhappy than before.

"Mr. Dursley? You must be Harry, then, and... Petunia? It's a pleasure to meet you all."

The same stunning blonde, the same suit, Harry had been seeing for a few hours, only this
time, Lilith carried the pad and clipboards in her attaché, and had some (purloined, he knew)
business cards as well, one in her hand, which she offered out. "My name is Lilian Vergot,
I'm a case-worker with the CPS, and I've recently been assigned to Mr. Potter's case. He is
your... nephew, is that correct?"

Vernon Dursley spluttered, turning a gimlet eye on Harry. "I- we've never done anything to
him, and never had any work with the CPS. Not sure why you're here, Ms-"

"Vergot," Lilith said with a casual smile, "like Peugeot, my maternal grandfather was French,
his wife a Swede."

"Er, yes," Vernon said, apparent and surprising lust each time she spoke warring with his
normal dislike of strangers, the government, and Harry- or anything that might mix two or
more of those. "Yes, Vergot. I'd- I'm still not sure why you're here."

"Nothing too terribly bad, I'm sure," Lilith said, smiling over his shoulder, "As I said, I'm just
newly assigned to Mr. Potter's file, and I've come to check up on him. Won't take but a few
moments, if I could come inside...?"

Petunia, obvious jealousy of the woman's figure and looks aside, immediately jumped into
her usual role of overly-charming hostess, elbowing past her husband to gesture Lilith inside.

A few moments later, a smattering of brandy aside (I'm on duty, Mrs. Dursley! Though I
might not say no later...) and a glass of juice in hand, Lilith sat primly at the edge of the nicer
of the arm-chairs, while Harry took the other, Petunia's normal spot, and his relatives, Dudley
included (who could not hide the bulge in his pants at the sight of Lilith's current form), sat
on the couch, Petunia in the middle.

Lilith sipped at the juice and opened her attaché, pulling out the same clipboard. "So,
according to my notes, you've been fostering- never adopted- Mr. Potter, your nephew, Mrs.
Dursley, for... a little under sixteen years?"
"Fifteen," Petunia corrected, "He's been with us since Halloween- or the day after- of 'eighty-
two."

"Ah, yes, that's right," Lilith pretended to agree, "I crossed that with his birthday. Sorry- I'm
still relatively new at this. And in that time, you've- that can't be right. You've never had a
visit from CPS? Not in fifteen years?"

Vernon and Petunia shared a look, and Harry had to fight to hide smile that threatened on
seeing the sudden fear in their eyes.

"Hm... well... you don't mind if I make a quick phone call, do you? Just to my office, won't
take but a moment."

The recent cell-phone purchase, too, Harry had not understood the purpose for until now.

But he also knew that the phone was not yet activated- they were planning to do that
tomorrow- and that Lilith was faking the entire conversation. His relatives, though... "Yes,
Hi, Carly. Yes, it's me. I'm there now, yes. I've just seen a discrepancy in their paperwork.
Fifteen years, no visit, can you believe it? I know, the files are probably somewhere, but I
don't have them. N- Oh. It's one of those? Well, why didn't that get mentioned in the brief?
Ridiculous- sometimes I can't stand management. Oh, I know, dear. Thanks for spotting it,
though. That'll make things much easier. Yes, I understand, VIP client, I know, I know.
Thanks again, I'll call you when I'm able. Drinks on Saturday? Sure. I'll talk to you later."

The business card she'd already given Vernon twisted in his hands as he looked increasingly
tense. Lilith sighed and closed her case, pulling out a single blank piece of paper, slipping it
over the rest on the clipboard. "So, now I know why I've been assigned to this case. You see,
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I am a member not just of the CPS- but the WCPS. That's Wizarding
Child Protective Services. And no, I don't recommend you go for the weapon, Mr. Dursley, as
I am far faster than you- and unlike young Harry, I don't need a wand."

The lick of flame that suddenly hovered over the still-smiling woman's outstretched finger
had all three Muggles frozen in fear.

Then it winked out, and the smile with it. "I have been reminded by my friend at the office
that Mr. Potter is, in fact, a very important client. It turns out that we have been keeping a
close eye on him- and you- for some time. Your work, your livelihood, at Grunnings' is now
at stake, Mr. Dursley. The welfare of your family. You may, in fact, be looking at life in
prison for the upbringing you have bestowed upon the orphaned child of a Lord. Do I make
myself clear, Mr. Dursley?"

"He's no- he's my sister's boy, he's not a Lord!" Petunia hissed, clearly terrified and reaching,
grasping desperately, at any straw.

The smile returned to Lilith's face, this time somehow sinister, "Oh, but his father- his
'useless, layabout, drunkard' father? Philanthropy, serving his fellow man, those were James
Potter's career choices, Mr. Dursley. And when I say 'philanthropy'-" she glanced at the paper
she'd pulled out, "he gave away just under fourteen thousand pounds in the month that he
died, to charitable causes. And his only son is the boy you've been treating like a slave.
Now... now I'm here, and things will change."

Both of the adults swallowed. Dudley hadn't seemed to follow a word of the conversation, his
eyes locked on the front of Lilith's suit-coat.

Harry had to admit, it was entrancing watching the dark cloth stretch, even straining the
buttons a bit, not that she was overly 'fit' at the moment- just large.

The papers and clipboard vanished, and Lilith- Lilian- leaned back into the chair, folding her
hands together crisply. "Mr. Potter, my client, now has access to legal help- mine. I graduated
with my social work degree second, and a law degree first. He has access to his family's
wealth, some of it, in a trust fund. Legally, right now, I have the ability to see you both in jail
before day's end, and your son in foster care."

Before the Dursleys could protest, 'Lilian' raised a hand, "But, I will not. Your nephew, the
boy you despise, doesn't want you punished in that way. Instead, he wants you to be aware of,
and abide by, his wishes. One: You will not speak to him unless he speaks to you first. Two:
You will address him with a measure of respect, as you would an equal. Three: There will be
no chores. In return, he will provide his own sustenance. Four: You will provide living space
for himself, myself- I understand you have a guest room- and any friends or associates of Mr.
Potter's that he sees fit to invite here, without question, provided they provide you with the
same level of respect- they will ignore you, you ignore them. Generous, don't you think?
Five: When he reaches his majority- as a wizard, the age of seventeen- he will be gone from
your lives, forever, and any contact with him beyond that point not of his own choice will
result in the full weight of the law- magical law- coming down on you.

"Do these conditions sound fair, Mr. Dursley? Mrs. Dursley?"

Both nodded, white-faced.

"Excellent," Lilith said, standing up and taking up her attaché before offering a hand to
Vernon, who did not take it, then to Petunia, who did, hand trembling.

Then she shot a wink to Dudley, and turned to Harry. "Well, Mr. Potter, would you like to
show me my room?"

Harry barely held back the laughter as his door shut behind him. Lilith, body morphing back
to its norm as she did so, collapsed into his arms, giggling madly into his chest. "That- that
was brilliant," Harry gasped after he'd caught his breath.

And, true to their word, cowed for now, no one said a word as six burly men arrived a short
while later, carted Harry's- well, the Dursley's- old furniture from his room, and then moved
the boxes containing the newer furniture up and assembled each piece, leaving Harry only to
make his bed and load the clothing back inside the dresser before turning in the much
smaller-seeming space to his rosette friend again.
A friend that winked, then sank to her knees and started fumbling for his trousers, form once
again, as it had been for the movers, the blonde 'WCPS worker'.

As 'Lilian' took his hardening member into her mouth with a groan, Harry fell back against
his doorway, helpless before the onslaught. Lilian, it turned out, was insatiably horny,
however, and quickly moved from just bobbing at the tip to deep-throating him for all she
was worth, then undoing her blouse and tit-fucking Harry to completion before licking his
seed, what little had escaped her mouth, off her glorious breasts with her Succubus' long
tongue. "Thanks," she murmured, "I was hungry. Now, Master- you need your sleep. I'm
going to go start setting up my new territory, okay?"

Harry groaned, satisfied, then slipped, half-dressed, into the new bed.

He was asleep in moments.

Reminder, I have a DISCORD at https://discord.gg/DcwWWDYA . And if you want more of

the same content you're reading here, all stories (so far) are posted ahead on FFnet under the
same author name!
 I know who you did last Summer
Chapter Summary

Yet another boring summer on Privet Drive...

Or not.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Chap. 20: I know who you did last Summer

Over the next few days and then two weeks, Harry's life at Number Four changed drastically.
Some changes, like having a lot more fun and less stress in his life due to Lilith's presence, he
could have predicted. Other changes... less so.

Vernon was gone more often than not, even when not at work, and when he was, the man
spent more time in his room than watching the telly.

Dudley, it turned out, was quite grateful for Harry having literally saved his soul, and as
Harry had started to run in the mornings, had politely asked his cousin to join him. He'd even
helped with manual labor, as Lilith had suggested, moving out more of the Dursleys' old
furniture, like the worn dresser, for the replacement.

But it was his Aunt who had seen the most profound change.

Not one Harry was particularly surprised to see, but one that horrified and delighted him at
the same time.

She'd started cheating on her husband, not that their marriage was anything great.

He'd come home, Lilith invisibly floating behind him, early from a run to find her bent over
the kitchen table, Mr. Number Nine spearing into her.

Neither had noticed as he'd gone by, so Harry had just kept going, the sounds of his grunts
and her moans echoing up the stairs.
Seeing Dudley, red-faced and wanking on a rather average (maybe slightly smaller) dick
through the cracked doorway, clearly listening in, was a bit more than Harry wanted, too, but
he somehow found himself winking at his cousin and passing into his own room.

Unfortunately, both had rather crushed his libido for the moment, because he'd gotten used to
an hour or so of shagging the Succubus after his morning run. Something about the older,
more mature form of his 'case worker' being on her knees before him, or bent over, or riding
him like a horse, really did it for Harry, though he couldn't say if she was more fun that way
than 'normal'.

An hour and ten minutes later, summer homework finally finished (weeks earlier than his
usual last-minute rush with Ron), Harry decided that enough was enough, and stood up,
crossed to his door, and stepped across the hall to knock on Dudley's door.

Lilith was reading, apparently a pastime she'd developed while he was 'out' if she wasn't
joining him on his bed, able to help quickly if he needed it.

But Dudley, it seemed, had finally grown past any feelings of aggression toward Harry.
Having been caught rubbing one out while listening to his mother cheat on his father, though,
might have changed things, so he was being careful.

"Come in," Dudley grunted.

Harry pointedly sniffed as he stood in the doorway, grinning rather cockily at his still much-
bigger cousin, and leaned against the door. "So... you saw, you heard. Gonna tell your dad?"

Dudley frowned, still red-faced, but shook his head, eventually saying slowly, "Not my
business, is't?"

Harry shrugged, "Probably not. She hasn't been happy in a while, and I'm pretty sure your
dad's more into buggery, if you get what I mean."

Dudley frowned, but shrugged himself.

"So... you ever been with a girl?"

Harry knew quite well that he hadn't, thanks to Lilith, but watching his cousin's still-rounded
face turn scarlet from embarrassment was worth it. "'Course I 'ave," Dudley lied.

Harry laughed, "Right. Well, turns out I know a few people. Some're pretty fit, some might be
interested. Not witches, either. People around here."

That was one of the largest changes.

Like Hogwarts had when Lilith had staked her claim, people in Little Whinging, Surrey, had
become more... open.

Much more.
More desperate for sexual release, and more willing to leave behind any morals or ethics that
kept them from it.

Not that Harry considered either morality or ethical decisions a bad thing, but that was what
he'd seen.

"Er... r- really? 'Round here, local girls?"

Harry nodded, wracking his brain for a name, "Uh... Jill? Number- twelve, I think, down the
way? She's eyed you once or twice this year when we've been out."

Jill was a girl that Harry had eyed once, but discarded as a prospect. Pretty, but her sister,
Penny, was prettier by far and a year older.

"Bit young, yeah?"

"You're fifteen, she's fifteen now, I think."

Dudley frowned, but nodded. "Yeah... too bad, though. That case-worker you got..."

Harry laughed, looked over his shoulder and leaned in conspiriatorily, "She's fuckin' amazing
in bed."

Dudley laughed, hard, "Right, Potter, right. Pull t'other one."

Lilith, in a display of perfect timing that told Harry she'd been listening the whole time,
called, "It's true."

Dudley stammered, but said nothing.

"Anyway," Harry said with another shrug, "Let me know if you want me to set it up."

"Er, y- yeah," his cousin said quickly, before he'd even crossed the landing again, "I- I do."

"Right. I'll talk to her tomorrow, then."

And that was it, the first set in the neighborhood.

Penny had been mowing the lawn, in a crop-top and too-short shorts, when Harry had jogged
by. In the back, the first time, in the front, the second and third.

Each time, Lilith had given her a dose of Fog, just a little.

On the third, he stopped to talk.

Penny was tall, taller than he was, a bit on the slender side, with blonde pigtails that reminded
him of Hannah, and a light smattering of freckles, with a cute face and moderately curvy
breasts, but no arse to speak of and thin legs.

They'd shagged in her back yard, him pounding into her with her back against the house.
After another dose of Fog in her room while the girl's parents shagged in the living room,
uncaring that their daughters- both of them- were in the house, one with a strange, half-
dressed boy. Even less caring, it seemed, that he was the 'neighborhood delinquent'.

Then, while Penny practiced giving a blow-job for the first time (not a talent she possessed,
unfortunately for Harry, though she was enthusiastic and eager), while he sat at the edge of
her bed, he called Dudley on his new cell phone, and told him to come over.

Harry answered the door, not even close to sated despite having emptied himself into Penny
twice (she was on the pill, she said), having caught a bit of Lilith's Fog of Lust, and ushered
his cousin inside.

Dudley stopped, mouth gaping, as Mrs. Number Twelve bounced on her husband's lap openly
on the couch, thin, saggy breasts flopping, both heedless of his presence, lost in their
pleasure.

The fifteen year old Jill was in her room, Harry knew, watching porn herself, unwilling to
watch him and her sister, or her parents go at it.

"So," Harry said quietly to Dudley after he'd been able to get his attention away, "If Jill isn't
up for it, Penny might be. She wasn't a virgin, and I've about worn her out, but she might be
okay for you."

Dudley nodded, following dumbly upstairs.

Harry knocked at Jill's door, and slipped inside.

The younger girl was working her twat furiously, eyes fixed on the screen.

"Jill," he said softly.

"Hm?"

Feeling slightly guilty that she was so worked up, but knowing that she still had some ability
to say no, Harry asked, "My cousin's got a hard-on if you want to lose that pesky virginity.
Right now."

Jill looked away, first to Harry, then Dudley, who stood nervously behind him, half-hidden by
the door frame and Harry himself.

His cousin had lost a lot of weight, and was now fairly fit.

Jill's eyes widened, and she smiled.

"Right- I'll leave you to it," Harry said, stepping out and closing the door.

Back in Penny's room, the human girl was spread-eagled, naked as the day she was born,
with some of Harry's seed still leaking from her.
And Lilith was standing over her, grinning in her Lilian form, still clothed. "Well done,
Master. Dudley will be happy with these two- both sisters will be willing with him for a
while, and even the mother won't say no. The father- he's likely going to have a heart attack
by the end of summer, poor fellow. He'll go out happy, though."

Harry nodded. Sad news, but it did happen all the time, and she was right about the happy
part.

He, though, was still horny.

Lilith smiled, the familiar business suit vanishing as Lilian's body bent over the bed. A
curiosity fell over him. Lilith's anus had been small, puckered and pink, as if it was never
used for what a Hunan's was. Lilian's was small, puckered, and a faint brown, though still
appeared to be quite clean.

"You ever done anal?" he asked quietly, while Lilian started licking his semen out of the
exhausted Penny's cunt.

The Succubus grinned, and looked over her shoulder, "Try it. I don't need lube, but human
girls probably do. Spit, at least."

Still, he was a bit weirded out by the idea, so Harry pushed into Lilian's dripping cunt first,
revelling in the sensation. Every form the Succubus took was different and, presumably, the
proper one for the body she mirrored as far as genitalia. Which meant that, if there was a
stunning blonde woman out there that Lilith was the twin of, this is what fucking her from
behind would feel like.

And it was amazing, truly, her channel a bit curved backward to fit him more naturally this
way, soft and clutching at him needily.

But he pulled out after a few strokes, now determined.

His cock dripping with her own juice, Harry lined himself up at the star and started to push.
Not gently, but slowly, determinedly.

He didn't stop until his thighs met Lilian's rump, and she gasped. "Fuck... been a while,"
'Lilian' groaned, "You can move, though. Forgot how different it was."

To Harry, it didn't seem all that different. Tighter, just as warm, a little dryer.

Different, but not terribly so.

But it still felt amazing as he started to pump.

But knowing that he was plowing into the arse of an older woman, his own 'legal counsel'
and 'CPS worker', and how much she seemed to enjoy it leant a little extra fuel to his fire, and
Harry reached down around her with one hand to grab and squeeze a swinging D-cup breast,
the other to work at the hooded clit.
He pounded in for five full minutes before he was done, and emptied himself into Lilith's
body once again. Then she turned around, licking her lips free of Penny's juices, which she
shared with Harry, then sank to her knees again to clean him with her mouth.

If she was disgusted to be cleaning him after that, the Succubus did not show it.

A couple minutes later, he stuck his head into Jill's room.

Both she and Dudley were nude on the girl's bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Harry heard them talking quietly. Neither seemed upset, but nor were they quite sated.

"Let's leave them to it," he murmured, heading downstairs.

He took a moment as they left the pair, not bothering to have Lilian disappear (as people had
seen her arriving) to examine Mrs. Number Twelve, but he quickly pushed her from his mind
either. Not an unattractive woman, but she was far older than he preferred.

When he arrived at the Dursleys, he tossed an off-hand, "You could at least charge them and
make some pocket money," to his aunt, knowing full well how offended she would be, but
also knowing she couldn't really do anything about it.

Not without making things worse, anyway.

Over the next week two other girls, Sunny Delmakher from Wisteria Walk, another blonde,
and Chelsea Widdington, a red-head from the other end of Magnolia Crescent joined his little
club. The former was a fourteen year old, the 'real' neighborhood delinquent, who had
apparently been charging for blowjobs for more than a year, though Harry had been the one
to take her virginity (and for free, no less), while Chelsea was a college student home for the
summer who just wanted to have some fun, and didn't mind doing it with a younger man.

Or, as he learned toward the end of the summer, an older one, too.

Then Hermione's first letter arrived, surprisingly late.

Harry,

Miss you! We've been on Barbados, in the Caribbean. You should totally visit- but wear
sunscreen, I'm so burned! It was hot, but I'm back in the U.K. We'll be home by Thursday. I
want to visit- can I? You know why. I've been really lonely. Ron's said his parents are
planning on having us since mid-July, so we'll have time before your birthday too, but sooner
is better, don't you think?

Sorry, I don't have a lot of time to write, I've been very distracted lately. I blame you and your
new friend(s). Mum and Dad have rekindled their romance, and I think it's because of the
new friend, too, but I'm not sure I want to know how. Maybe something I did. Turns out I have
a sibling on the way, though they won't be here for about eight more months- Mum just found
out last week.
Dad's over the moon too, of course, and so am I. We need to find a faster way to talk!

Yours,

Hermione

Hedwig hooted. Harry grinned looking at the cell sitting on his desk, half-charged. "Can you
make it to Hermione's tonight, girl?"

The owl barked once, and held out her leg, waiting patiently on one foot while Harry,
grinning at Lilith, dashed out a phone number and a quick message, then sent her on her way.

June twentieth saw Harry stepping off the Knight Bus in a sleepy neighborhood with large
houses and small yards.

"There, Master," Lilith, once again dressed as Lilian, said over his shoulder, "185."

A few seconds later, he stopped knocking as the door was flung open and a brunette, wavy-
haired missile struck him.

If Lilith hadn't been ready, Hermione would have likely knocked both of them off the stoop.

"Mum, Dad, you remember Harry," Hermione grinned, pulling him along by the arm through
the living room, which Harry only had time to notice was tastefully decorated, clean, but
nowhere near as antiseptic as the Dursleys'.

Nor did she wait for a reply.

Before he knew what was happening, Harry had been pulled through a kitchen, up a narrow
stairway, and down a short hall into a bookshelf-lined bedroom, the door shutting behind the
three of them.

Before saying another word to Harry, Hermione turned to Lilian, already having been
apprised of the situation regarding her, and asked, "Can you give my parents some of your...
passion juice? I wasn't kidding, they've rekindled things- not that they were bad- but I want
them distracted for at least an hour."

"Sure," Lilith said with a grin, "Um... would you like me to stay there, or rejoin you?"

Left unsaid was 'am I shagging your parents, or you'.

Harry, at least, understood that part, but wasn't sure how he felt about it. Lilith had never
claimed not to be 'gathering seed' for her people in a more active way, but she'd never talked
about shagging people without Harry's presence or direct permission, either.
And this was Hermione's parents.

The girl, though, chewed on her lower lip, eying the blonde, "Um... Maybe... stay there? If- if
you don't think they'd, uh... mind? They've never hinted to me about wanting um- another."

Lilith shrugged, "They don't even have to remember it- or they'll think they were dreaming,"
and slipped from the room, closing the door.

Then Hermione's clothes started hitting the door, down to her knickers, and she threw herself
on the bed, spreading her knees wide. "Come on, come on, Harry!"

He grinned, but didn't move quickly at all as he undressed, forcing his best friend to huff and
start diddling herself while she watched him.

And he took his time, grateful for the rapid change the Runes had given him with the
workout, and amused at how desperate Hermione was.

He stepped over her slowly, too, and positioned himself at the edge of the bed, where her feet
were still on the floor. She looked up at him expectantly, "I don't need foreplay, Harry- just do
me. Later, we can enjoy it. I'm so randy."

Indeed, Harry could tell from the smell, the sight of the juices dripping down her (they'd
dried on her leg, too, he saw), and the feeling he got from her.

Something new he would have to explore later.

"Your parents know?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, "Suspect, I think, in dad's case. I told Mum... About both of you."

One eyebrow raised as he sheathed himself smoothly.

Hermione's back arched and she sighed, eyes rolling back in her head. "Yeeasssss..... so
good..."

He started moving slowly, fingers trailing on her body, unwilling to just fuck her hard despite
Hermione's expressed wishes. She was home. His home. Ron's, too, he supposed- but unlike
the girls he'd been shagging lately, she belonged to him. It wasn't just for fun.

He, too, belonged to her.

Hermione's hips began to buck, rising and falling in time with his thrusts, adding a new
sensation to his motions.

"You've had more practice," she murmured, "and- not just Lilith?"

Harry shook his head, and told her the names of Penny, Jill, Chelsea, and Sunny, leaving out
their last names.
"Man-whore," Hermione teased, hands now starting to fondle her breasts, "Gods you feel
good inside me, Harry."

"I'm your man-whore," he acknowledged, "and you're my- I don't know what to call it.
Home? Love? I think I do love you, Hermione, and not just as a friend down to shag. But I
still..."

"I know," the girl replied softly, eyes opening to find his while they moved together, "It's
alright, you don't have to explain. It's who you are now. Maybe that will change later, maybe
it won't- Gods you feel good! But you're still -ah- you. I knew the moment I saw you in the
window."

He laughed, "It's only been a few weeks- how could I change that fast?"

She shrugged. "I... I've changed."

He slowed, but continued moving.

"Other boys," she murmured, "I've- I've done things. Sucked them. I shagged one, but felt
guilty after. I couldn't- help it."

"Don't," Harry said, surprising himself, "if you want someone, enjoy it. I don't- I'm not upset
about it."

"I'm a whore," Hermione murmured, "and you and Ron won't want -uh- me anymore, since
I'm... I'm not just for you."

He laughed softly, moving faster, leaning down low over her to suckle on her neck and
earlobe, then whispered, "We'll always want you. I will, at least. Look, Hermione- I think of
you as 'home'. Being with you... it's amazing, special. Ginny, too. Lilith. And I hate to say it,
but Pansy, too. The others... it's just for fun. There's no meaning behind it, but it feels nice,
and it's fun. If you want to have fun with another bloke, who'm I to say no?"

When he rose to his elbows to look into her eyes, they were glistening with tears. "You- mean
it?"

He nodded, moving faster still, "I will always want to be with you. Hell, Hermione... as long
as you aren't shagging Malfoy or Voldemort or something, do what you want. You've earned
it, as far as I'm concerned."

Hermione nodded, but said nothing. Slowly, her hands moved around his neck, holding him
close as his first climax neared.

"Inside," she said as he started to tense, "still on the pill."

He groaned, exploded, and the world went white, like it had the first few times with Lilith
and Daphne.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione was now gyrating her hips atop him, when Harry asked, "Tell
me about him. The bloke you shagged."
Hermione froze.

"It- it was my dad," she whispered.

Harry blinked, and his cock throbbed.

Slowly, Hermione started to move again, hesitant.

But Harry was still hard, despite his confusion.

"Go on...?"

Hermione shrugged face red, "It was late, we were in Barbados. He was drunk, came into the
wrong hotel room. I was randy... it'd been a few weeks by this point. Thought I was Mum. I
couldn't... say no."

"Does he know?"

Hermione shook her head, still moving. "Nor Mum. I- I think that's what... got them going
again, now that I think of it. I told you- I told you I was a whore."

Harry's eyes closed, and he sat up, pulling Hermione against him while she continued to
move, now bouncing slowly on his (somehow even harder) cock. "You fucked your own
father."

She nodded.

"You liked it?"

She shrugged, "It was... alright. Not you, or Ron."

"Would you do it again?"

She shook her head.

"Then that's it," Harry said softly, "It was a spur of the moment decision. Maybe not a good
one, maybe not a bad one, I don't know. I all-but rape people on a regular basis, Hermione,
even if they're begging for it. I'm not one to judge people for their weird sexual exploits."

"And you still want me?"

In response, Harry orgasmed inside her again.

And again, this time in her mouth.

Harry woke from a light doze and threw on his clothes again, careful to leave Hermione
sleeping. She was quite worn out, emotionally exhausted from her confessions, and he knew
she needed it.
Downstairs, he found Lilith just settling herself, facing Harry and away from Mr. Granger, on
the older man's erection, Mrs. Granger sitting, with lidded eyes, between his legs, licking her
lips.

Seemingly stoned out of his mind, or at least that's what Harry assumed people were like
when very high, Mr. Granger groaned, then looked over the Succubus at Harry, "Your case-
worker's a nice lady, Harry."

"Very nice," Mrs. Granger agreed, now leaning in to lick at her husband's scrotum and
Lilian's cunt both while her fingers worked between her legs.

Harry groaned. He was satisfied (for now), but... his erection returned with a vengeance.

"Er... m- may I?"

He didn't know why he'd asked- Lilith would've been happy to take care of him.

But Mrs. Granger looked up and over her shoulder, then shifted position onto her hands and
knees, still licking her husband and Lilian both while presenting herself to him.

Her husband grunted, "Go on, then," his hands mauling Lilian's large, round breasts eagerly,
but his eyes watching as Harry moved behind his wife and lowered himself to his own knees.

Am I doing this? Am I shagging Hermione's mother after- after doing her three times, while
Mrs. Granger is going- you know what? Fuck it.

Harry ran a hand along his length, stroking a few times to make sure he was back up to full,
the other spreading Mrs. Granger's snatch open. It glistened with her juices and some
remnants of Mr. Granger's own semen that Lilith had missed, and seemed ready to accept
him.

He lined up, and pushed in.

Not nearly as tight as her daughter, Mrs. Granger was still quite healthy for her age, and felt
very nice, a bit warmer, very wet. Harry sighed as he moved. The sheer ridiculousness of the
situation would have him finishing soon, but he may as well enjoy it while he could, right?

Lilith, on the couch, twisted to kiss Mr. Granger, then lifted a tit to his mouth, and started
suckling on the other nipple herself. Mrs. Granger had begun to pant, one hand furiously
working her slit and clit, the other now cupping and kneading her husband's balls, "Fuck her
hard, dear," she gasped.

At once, Mr. Granger sped up, making the Succubus bounce rapidly on his dick.

"I'm- I'm on the pill," Lilith lied, "and I'm clean- are- are you?"

Mr. Granger grunted a 'yes'. "Never- been with anyone but my wife."

Not quite true, Harry knew.

"Me- neither, until Harry," Mrs. Granger sighed.

Lilian suddenly grinned, "My employer can decide- where can he do it, sir?"

Harry's eyes widened.

Not only had Lilith asked him a question he didn't want to be asked- he preferred her to
decide- but Hermione had just stepped into the living room door, clad in sweatpants and a
pyjama top.

He couldn't stop moving, already too close to want to, inside her mother.

Lilith, it seemed, had no intention of ceasing her own writhing atop the girl's father.

Hermione, though, did not make an outward sign that she was horrified, only stood and
watched, a little sleepily.

"You can do it in her mouth," Harry said.

Mr. Granger grunted.

A few seconds later, Lilith had joined Mrs. Granger on her hands and knees before the couch,
both of them accepting two or three squirts each of rather thin seminal fluid in their mouths.

Mr. Granger, when he was finished, collapsed limply to the couch once more.

Lilith sat up, quite nude and still as Lilian, beside him shooting a grin over her shoulder at
Hermione, who rolled her eyes while she continued to watch Harry plow her mother from
behind.

Mrs. Granger shifted forward a little forcing Harry to follow her- he did so with a further
deepening to his blush on instinct- to clean her husband's dick completely with her mouth, in
a most Lilith-like way.

That was enough, and Harry grunted.

Too, Mrs. Granger's vaginal walls shuddered and quivered around him, adding to his pleasure
as she milked him for all he was worth, continuing to bounce back against him even as he
filled her womb.

It wasn't like she could become pregnant again, right?

"Feels great," Mrs. Granger said, sinking slowly to the floor, her head between her husband's
thighs, a rather stupefied, yet pleased, grin on her face.

Two minutes later, both parents were fully asleep.

"Okay," Hermione said, "Harry, we need to talk." Then she turned upstairs again.

He gulped.
"Go on, lover boy," 'Lilian' snickered, "I'll clean up and get these two in bed, then set about
making them think it's all just a dream they had after a particularly erotic night- a celebration
of the new baby."

A few minutes later, after cleaning up in a loo downstairs, Harry trudged back up to
Hermione's room.

She was still in the pyjama set, sitting at her desk, reading.

"A surprise! Hermione, reading," he tried to tease.

But her look back was all seriousness. "So... was this revenge, Harry?"

He swallowed, "Er... no?"

"I feel like I would deserve it if it was."

"It wasn't," Harry said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "I... I went down for a drink,
that's all, I swear. And I saw them, and I... reacted. I don't know why I did it."

"You shagged my mum. With my dad watching. Right after I told you I- what I'd done. That's
not revenge?"

"No," Harry insisted, repeating the gesture with both hands this time, "I... it was... sexy, I
guess, and I got hard and she was there... and that was as far as I thought. I asked, and she...
presented."

Hermione and Harry were both quiet for a long time, and he heard both of her parents
stumble, one after the other a few minutes apart, likely guided by Lilith in each other's guise,
up into their bedroom. Then, eventually, she asked quietly, almost plaintively, "Is this your
life now, Harry? Our life? Just... shagging everybody, all the time, with no thought of
consequences?"

"It... seems to be, yeah," the wizard found himself saying.

Lilith, in her own normal body- his favored one, anyway- slipped into the room and said
quietly, "Generally, when a Succubus enters a Contractor's life, there are changes. Often, like
this. Not always, but often. Some of the greatest lovers of your world's history have been
Contractors- it's how they got their skills, if nothing else. Venus of Milo, inspiration for your
famous sculpture, Aphrenas, the woman who the Greeks thought of as the goddess
Aphrodite, they were both Succubae. It happens. You don't have to be part of it, and it doesn't
have to be like that, but it usually is. At least, while he's under Contract."

"I want him in my life," Hermione said desperately, half-sobbing, half shrieking, "I- I just
don't know if I can..."

Lilith grew slightly, taking on a slender woman's form with long, silky red hair a little darker
than any of the Weasleys' he was familiar with, wearing tasteful but fashionable clothing, and
folded Hermione into a hug, leaning just a little to reach the younger girl in the chair- the
form wasn't very tall. "I know you do, dear," she said quietly, "but yes, this is what it'll be
like. Not everyone- Master has quite good taste, your mother's a fine looking woman. But
he'll bond more. That's what he was referring to when he said you were 'home', and likely,
most of you will want him for the rest of your lives, and he, you. You can live without him.
It'll be hard, if you choose to, but it can be done. Easier, as time passes. Or... you can accept
what his life has become. He'll likely have sex with your friends. Your enemies, if he wants
to. You. Me. And he'll have a lot. Not every waking moment- but a few times a day, probably,
for the rest of his life, at the least the duration of the Contract. The Runes I've placed will not
fade in a century or more of life. Maybe never."

Hermione hiccupped. "I..."

Harry swallowed, but said nothing. This was her decision, it always would be. Ron would be
happy (probably) with her, and she him, if that's what she wanted.

And if she was happy, so was he.

Even if the thought left a pit of aching darkness in his chest.

"I would like some time to think," Hermione said, "I know you've only gotten here... but can I
see you at the- at Headquarters, wherever that is, and we can talk more then?"

Harry nodded, standing at once, feeling and fearing that it was over between them, at least
romantically and sexually. "Of course, Hermione."

"Wait," Lilith said quietly, "One thing. Hermione, your mother and father love you. They love
your unborn sibling. They don't know that Harry was there, for what it's worth- but if you
bring it up, they'll likely remember everything. I can't guarantee it, and I'm not saying this to
force you to keep it quiet. I just want you informed, so you can make the best decision for
you and your family, whatever that is. Okay?"

Slowly, Hermione nodded as Lilith returned to Lilian's form, then pulled away.

"Harry," the girl called quietly as he moved to shut the door behind him. "I... I'm not saying
no. I don't hate you, and I'm not mad at you. It was... unexpected. I just want to think things
over, okay?"

He nodded.

He could understand that feeling.

"Better get dressed," Harry murmured to Lilith, who was plunging a new toy- a plastic dildo,
recently purchased online- into and out of her body while looking avidly on as his cousin
shagged Jill across the hall, "Dumbledore will be here, soon."

"Right, Master," she said distractedly, shuddering into a minor orgasm, by the look of it, as if
on command, before tucking the still-dripping device into his trunk and shrinking down,
down, until she was the size of his pinky, and becoming invisible on top of that, leaving him
to shut down the new computer and gather up the last few things.
He'd peen packing for hours, it felt like, and the new space-expanded trunk would hold
almost everything he possessed.

All but the PC, which he was gifting to- of all people- his cousin.

It had an impressive porn collection already, thanks to Lilith, but also a few viruses that
would need cleaning before too long.

The 'confrontation' with Hermione had thrown a few things about Harry's life into stark relief,
and he'd been busy the last couple of weeks since. Letters, many of them, had gone out, most
returned, by owl.

The more traditional mail service, too, had been busy delivering things the burgeoning 'e-
commerce' community could provide, including the new computer.

Lilith, thanks to a well-placed blowjob and a not-inconsiderable bribe, now had an actual, if
inappropriately obtained, legal right to the care of Harry Potter, including his finances, if
necessary.

But the majority of the physical possessions were in his trunk already, leaving only the
clothes Harry was wearing, his wand, his owl (safely on her way to the Burrow), and a
mostly-finished copy of Nicomachean Ethics that Lilith had suggested. Her own copy, she
said, was back 'at home' and unreachable, but she guessed the translation was probably still
relatively close to the original.

The last item was the hand-written note, just a few lines, in a familiar, spidery, but graceful
hand.

Twelve sharp.

The clock dinged downstairs.

There was a crack of Apparition.

Harry stood up, closed the book and set it into the trunk, then closed and locked it, too, before
moving with it in hand- Lilith had the other side, visible and appearing once more as Lilian-
to the landing. "Bye, Jill, bye Duds. Keep in touch if you want, just remember I can't use the
phone at school."

Both of the other teenagers grunted, not interrupting their love-making.

Harry, too, had been with Jill once, now- for fun, because both she and Penny had been home
but Dudley was away at his own birthday party without them- but found the girl rather plain
overall, so hadn't been back.

The door being open was a more recent thing- his parents, both of them, had now seen
Dudley actively engaged with the neighbor, but neither had room to complain.

In fact, Vernon had recently moved out- to the hospital, where he was suffering from rather
severe heart disease.
He hadn't had an infarction, yet, but the doctors were worried, and diabetes, undetected until
recently, would likely claim both feet and maybe a hand soon.

Petunia...

She sat, sprawled on the couch in a nightie, a cigarette, recently finished, still lingering on the
new ashtray. She'd picked that habit up within the last week, fortunately, because Harry found
he didn't like the smell.

Her current lover was passed out on the bed upstairs in her room, and Harry was glad to see
that she had, at least, starting accepting 'gifts'. Someone had to pay the bills.

If Dumbledore was surprised not to be invited in when Harry opened the door, he didn't show
more than a blink. He did, however, say while following Harry and Lilith down the walk, "I
had expected to meet with your relatives briefly, Harry. And I don't believe I've met your
companion."

Harry nodded, "Both true, I guess? Sorry, I have to change the plan. Where are we headed?"

At the end of the walk, the aged wizard gave his beard a single stroke, "To the village where
a friend of mine resides. I seek to fill the position of Potions Master at Hogwarts- a position I
believe you are aware needs filling, and I suspect you know why."

Harry gave a little smile, but otherwise stayed serious, business-like.

In fact, his dress was not what the old Headmaster had expected, either.

Like the pretty young woman Dumbledore had been most surprised to see exit with Harry,
she was wearing a modern muggle business suit, the wizard's a dark charcoal gray with white
pinstriping. He even wore a matching fedora. Not a style old enough for Dumbledore's tastes,
but one he remembered from years past.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, "I suppose the questions and answers may wait a little longer.
May I apparate us...? I shall forward your trunk to the Burrow. You have said you wish to
visit, correct?"

Harry nodded again, and with a touch of his wand and a whispered, "Portus," the trunk
disappeared in a flash of blue. Then, as the old wizard straightened, he offered two elbows.

Apparition, Harry decided, was decidedly less comfortable than travelling by whatever means
Lilith used.

But he kept his gorge down- a good thing, as the wing-tip shoes he wore were rather
expensive- though Lilith seemed a little green for a few seconds. "This is the charming
village of Budleigh-Babberton, and we are here to recruit an old friend of mine named
Horace Slughorn."

"Slughorn," Harry muttered, wracking his brain, "The- wasn't he the previous Head of
Slytherin?"
"Just so. Well done, Harry. He is, or was. I am hoping he can be convinced to return for a
year. Now, while we walk, perhaps some questions...?"

Harry and Lilith shared a look.

This, too they had planned on.

"Ask away, Sir."

"Your companion is...?"

"I am Lilith, Headmaster Dumbledore," she answered. The truth, they had decided, would
come out sooner or later- better to get it out now. "I'm a Succubus, one that Harry Summoned
toward the end of the last term. Yes, we are fully Contracted, and the Contract will end with
the utter demise of one Lord Voldemort. I am firmly on Harry's side, and mostly on yours,
such that your goals align. I am no threat to you and yours."

The wizard had stopped walking by the end of the second sentence, forcing them to stop, too,
or leave him behind.

"I... a Succubus. A Contracted Succubus."

Harry nodded, "Yep. Er, yes, sir."

"And you will be at the school, I presume?"

Lilith, too, gave a little nod, "I must, for Master's continued existence on this plane."

"And you..." here, Dumbledore started walking, shaking his head, "You have... influence?"

"I do," Lilith said with a smile, "All your little students, shagging like bunnies."

Dumbledore frowned, "There's no need to be crass, young lady."

"No, and I apologize," Lilith replied, still grinning and appearing utterly insincere about that
part at least, "but yes, it's my territory, and people will find their inhibitions waning while I
remain there."

A tired hand passed over Dumbledore's face, and he sighed. "I... this is something I had not
foreseen. At all. I... it will take some adjusting. But adjust I will. We will. Very well- I trust
you are, at least, capable of discretion?"

Harry nodded.

Didn't say I would use it...

"Very well. Your name- Lilith. Progenitor of your kind, according to our myths?"

"And ours," Lilith agreed, "Though your Talmud, I think it's called, gets the pronunciation a
bit wrong. It's more... Lee-lith I think, but it's old for us, too. The true progenitors are
Xinivrae and Morrigan, though, the daughter-husband of Lilith, and her daughter-lover,
respectively, after Lilith's disappearance."

Dumbledore only shook his head, "And... that does a lot to explain the... differences, I
suppose. The dress, the bearing, the confidence. Have you... brought in others?"

"Some," Harry admitted, "I have tried to be discrete. I don't need the Prophet printing things
about my sex-life, too."

"Just so," the old man said with a grimace, "I can only imagine the headlines. Now- this here
is where Mr. Slughorn resides. I will be but a moment. Please wait here."

Indeed, just a few minutes later, a very portly, short old man with a handlebar mustache and
tawny, almost tweed-colored pyjamas came striding out the door with a wide smile, beaming
at both Harry and Lilith.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Lilith! A delight, a true delight! I'm Horace Slughorn, recently-hired as the
Potions Professor and temporary Head of Slytherin for the term. Shall we go?"

Dumbledore just winked at Harry's confused expression. The note had asked for his help in
getting this man to agree... what had he needed to be there for?

A few seconds later, the four of them, Slughorn after the others, popped into existence just
outside the Weasleys' property line. A few seconds later, Slughorn was gone again, giving
another wink to Harry and passing his eyes over Lilith.

Ah. That's why he agreed to it more easily than Dumbledore thought he would. Duh.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said quietly, leading Harry through the garden gate and
toward the old broom-shed at the back of the Weasleys' impossibly-leaning, slanted, magical
house, "A word, if you would. It is my wish that you- and I suppose your new friend- have a
few private lessons with me, this year. Nothing too onerous- a night or two a month, at most,
for a couple of hours. I believe it will help you in your struggle. If, of course, you still wish to
be the one...?"

Harry didn't need to think to know who his Professor was referring to. "I do- I will. Just say
when."

Dumbledore smiled. "Then, I have a few more accommodations to make this evening before I
'hit the hay', as they say. I believe you can make your way inside from here...? Ah... Miss
Lilith, I hope you have some way of taming the shrew."

Then, with a growing laugh just splitting the white whiskers, Dumbledore was gone.

Harry turned, hand-in-hand with Lilith, to see the light streaming through the kitchen's back
door double as it opened, then dim again as a slightly rotund, short figure blocked the door.
"Harry? Is that y- it is! Why, come in dear! Professor Dumbledore told me you wouldn't-
you- erm, who is your friend, Harry, dear?"

As he and Lilith stepped into the light, his feet faltered.

Mrs. Weasley, the kindest woman he'd ever met, the most like a mother.

He'd shagged her youngest son's girl (sort of). He'd shagged her baby girl.

How could he face her...?

But before he could chicken out, the matronly woman's arms folded around him, "Oh,
nevermind! Come in, come in!"

A few seconds later, he was seated at the wide kitchen table, Lilith beside him, while Mrs.
Weasley placed a bowl of fresh onion soup before each of them. "Well, eat up. I was just
waiting for Arthur- he's not quite home yet, so busy these days at the Ministry- but Albus said
you wouldn't be here until morning! Your bed's made up, of course, but I haven't got a-"

"She's staying with me," Harry said quietly, "or with Ginny and Hermione. Either one- her
choice."

He didn't say it with any equivocation. It was one, or the other.

And Mrs. Weasley swallowed, seeming a bit confused, but nodded, "Alright, then, the girls it
is. I suppose we can bring the cot down from Charlie's room. I-" Then her eyes got a little
misty, "I'm glad you're here, Harry."

He smiled, a little wanely, "Oh, uh- this is Lilith. Lilith, Mrs. Weasley- Ron's and Ginny's
mum."

"A pleasure, dear, and any friend of Harry's is welcome in our home."

Privately, Harry wondered if that would be the case if Mrs. Weasley knew what Lilith was,
but he didn't intend to let her find out. "Er... is Hermione here, yet?"

Mrs. Weasley, for some reason, frowned. "Yes... a couple of days, now. She and Ron have...
well, I suppose you already know what they've been up to, thick as thieves, you three."

Harry blushed, "Er... not- not necessarily."

Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes, "Well- I'm not ashamed, precisely... but they're carrying on
like- like newlyweds. If it wasn't plain they're meant for each other, I'd..."

Harry coughed, and even Lilith had to hide a smile behind her hand and spoon.

"They're-"

"Yes, dear, they are," Mrs. Weasley muttered, "two times a day, sometimes three. Caught
them at it more times than I care to remember, and it's only been three days. Four now, I
suppose. Mostly in his room, but... now I have to knock before I enter my own hen-house! At
least Ginny's not been corrupted-"

Again, Harry coughed, he couldn't help it.

One of Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows rose as her hands started trembling around her teacup.
"You... last year, then."

He nodded, not daring to look up at her, or even away from his soup, which was mostly
untouched despite Mrs. Weasley's amazing cooking.

"Fourteen... she's not even fifteen yet," Mrs. Weasley said with a sigh, "I'm a failure as a
mother..."

"No," Harry protested loudly, "You're an amazing mum! You- d'you know what happened?
We were... I- they-"

Lilith's hand on Harry's arm calmed him quickly, and he took a deep breath, sending her a
look of thanks before he took in a deep breath. "Mrs. Weasley, this is a war. We almost died.
Afterward, we were in shock- relieved, I think- and we maybe all did things that were dumb
in hindsight. But I don't regret it. I love your daughter. Ron loves Hermione, and she, him. I
hope Ginny l- loves me."

He left the rest unsaid, at least.

"Of course she does, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, reaching across the table to pat his arm, too.
"She has for years. Not just a little crush anymore, either, I'd wager. Harry... in some ways,
I'm very upset at you, but I also- understand. But you must know, she's... sensitive. If you hurt
my daughter, she will make you regret it, and far more than I ever could. So I'm not the
Weasley to fear. Not even her father, or her brothers."

Harry swallowed, but nodded. "I've no intention of doing so."

Mrs. Weasley left it at that, and a few minutes later, when Arthur arrived home, the matter
appeared dropped. And if her husband was a little distracted by the gorgeous blonde in his
kitchen, the matron said nothing of it- at least, where Harry could hear.

But after he'd gone to bed, before Mrs. Weasley had, she had one more thing to say while
holding him in a good-night hug, voice low and vaguely threatening, but still warm. "I don't
want to catch you with my daughter. Do you understand me, Harry?"

"Y- Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

Don't let me catch you.

Words to live by.

Or perhaps die by.

In the end, rather than wake Ron (who likely wouldn't have been woken anyway), Harry had
tried sleeping on the couch, but Mrs. Weasley had forgotten something and sent him upstairs
anyway- the cot, which she floated into Ginny's room without waking her daughter or
Hermione.
Of course, Lilith had a message for Harry before he reached the top-most landing.
Hermione's not in here, it's just pillows and a wig, probably Transfigured. Just so you know.
Ginny's randy, but asleep. I'll see you in the morning.

He was not, at least, surprised to see Hermione sprawled atop Ron, both without a top on,
beneath the ginger's blankets. In the light of his wand, Harry thought they both looked happy,
content.

With a smile, he drifted off to sleep.

 Familial Bonds
Chapter Summary

Molly Weasley gets a Clue. Hermione makes a fateful decision. Ginny and Ron, shortly
after, do the same... and then so does Lilith, and Fleur, too. Harry's may be the most
momentous of all. Then, while the first hints of Lilith and Fleur's are just coming to
light, Molly gets the shock of her life, and (temporarily) asks Harry and Lilith to leave
her home.
The good news is, Sirius is now a free man, and that means they can have some fun at
his new place. And fun they have, starting with training Hermione to do something she'll
be doing a lot of in the future.
Either way, the family and extended FAMILY have a lot to deal with...

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

TW: Semi Cuckold (of Bill Weasley). If you aren't interested, well... sorry. Only way I could
work Fleur in at this point. I got my plans, and he'll still end up happy, just not with Fleur. If
it helps, they mutually break it off in the future...?

Also, don't forget to check out my DISCORD: https://discord.gg/Ky4K5xQx . If you're

coming to the party late, skip to the latest chapter for a more current link since they expire
after a week. ;)

Chap. 21: Familial Bonds

He awoke to the familiar feeling of lips on his. "Hello, Harry," Ginny's voice filtered into his
mind, sounding a bit husky. "Stay quiet- the others are still asleep."

"Missed you," he murmured as quietly as he could, kissing back before opening his eyes.
Slender hands fished beneath the blankets, into his boxers, and stroked his morning condition
a few times before withdrawing.
"Your breath stinks, Potter. Mum wants some help in the kitchen, and I told her you knew
more than I did. So I got sent for eggs, then you."

"Will we meet later?" he asked.

"Count on it. Mum knows about those two."

"And us," he replied, "I couldn't help it- I coughed and she guessed."

"Whatever," Ginny murmured, moving away, "Up you get."

"I am up, minx," he muttered, leaving her to giggle as she slipped out of her brother's room.

Once he was in the shower, he was less surprised than he might have been to be joined by
Lilith, who had entered invisibly, back in her normal form. As had become something of a
custom, she took over the process of washing him until he was good and clean, then let him
bathe her, before she climbed up onto his shaft, until both were, for the time being, satisfied.

The Burrow, Harry had always felt, from his first visit, was the most truly magical home he'd
ever seen. Everything about it, from the self-washing dishes to the laundry mangle, was
moving, working, on its own, under the careful eye of Mrs. Weasley, who seemed a little red-
eyed but chipper.

"Harry, Ginny tells me you've been holding out on me. You can cook?"

"Some," he admitted, "Eggs, bacon, hotcakes. Things like that. I can cook a steak, and some
pastas, too. I've never cooked with magic, though."

"Well, it's easier, I think you'll find. Come on, let me show you the pantry real quick, that'll
help."

Ginny set the table while he and Mrs. Weasley worked to prepare a traditional English, and
by the time a freshly-showered Hermione, hair still up in a towel, joined them, they were
setting the lot out. Arthur, in a hurry, dashed by, taking up a plate his wife had already
prepared, and slamming a kiss onto her face before hurrying out the door, wand in one hand
and plate in the other.

"Er... we made a lot," Harry said, "Where is everyone?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed, "Well, you know about Percy- he's still not apologized. Sooner or later,
he'll be back."

"Git," Ginny muttered darkly, spearing a piece of sausage rather cruelly.

Hermione and the girl's mother both rolled their eyes, not bothering to protest.

"Charlie's in Romania catching up on some work, he'll be back next week. He's mostly here,
now, helping with the Order. On a sabbatical, of sorts. Bill-"

"Bill's shagging Fleur," Ginny said with a grin, "and will be down shortly."
"Young lady! You are not too old for me to wash your mouth with soap!"

Ginny, though, only shrugged, nonplussed. "It's true- I'm not 'innocent', Mum. Haven't been
since my first year, remember?"

"That's as may be," Mrs. Weasley growled, eyes glinting with fury, "But you will be polite
about such things under my roof!"

"Yes, Mum," Ginny murmured, actually sounding truly chastened for once.

"But, unfortunately, my daughter is probably right," Mrs. Weasley said, "as they're now
engaged. Remus was here the night before last, but he's back out with the Packs, trying to get
them on our side, or at least some of them. Fred and George are sleeping in the flat over their
shop, if you can believe it. Still here for dinner every night, or when they need laundry, of
course."

The others all snickered.

"And Ron... well... Hermione would know better than me."

The brunette blushed furiously.

"He's, er... showering?"

"Come now, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said with a frown, "I've caught you at it enough, and
apparently Ginny and Harry have done it as well. It isn't as if you've truly been hiding it, you
know? Besides- a mother knows."

The blush didn't fade, but she whispered, "He's... sleeping. We- we were up late."

"Shagging. Er, sorry, Mum."

"Ginny..."

Harry grinned, and cast his eyes around the table, "Merlin, I missed you lot."

"So... what are your plans for the day?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Harry stretched out at the edge of the pond. Ron and Ginny were still out in it, but he and
Hermione were both a little tired from their respective late nights (not having had the same
lie-in Ron had), so the two of them were about five feet back from the edge of the water,
lying on the grass beneath a willow tree.

Neither had spoken much, after breakfast, all through lunch. Harry felt as if a weight had
settled between them, and he wanted rid of it, but... how to begin?

Ron leaned over to Ginny in the pond and whispered something. She glanced at the pair on
the shore and laughed, whispering something back. A moment later, the two were splashing
each other again, still laughing.
Lilith was off somewhere in Ottery St. Catchpole with Mrs. Weasley, doing some grocery
shopping, before the matriarch would be heading to Headquarters for a meeting, and to cook
dinner for the group there.

At least this time, he knew, she would be using Order funds.

Pay increase or not, the Weasleys couldn't afford to feed the entire Order.

Or at least, they shouldn't be expected to.

Of course, Mrs. Weasley had no idea that the 'responsible adult' that Lilith appeared as was
anything but, and she'd asked the 'blonde' to watch over the 'children' while the rest of the
adults were at the meeting.

But...

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I don't want to stop," Hermione said. "I've decided."

"I... huh?"

"I decided, last night. This morning, really. I... I love Ron. I love you. Like we had before
was... better. One is enough- both is better. Is- is that still okay?"

"You're saying you still want to be with me, knowing you'll probably never be my only? That
I'll sometimes shag in front of you, and it could be literally anyone?"

She nodded, then rolled a little to lay her head on his shoulder, "Yes. That's- exactly what I'm
saying."

"Okay. Love you, Hermione."

"You, too."

"You want to shag now?"

"Mm... no. I want to sleep."

"Okay. Night."

Then, almost as if by magic, both were out.

Harry woke to rain.

Or, as he opened his eyes, a sunny day- and an arsehole of a best mate dripping water from
his wrung-out t-shirt onto his face.
Next to him, Ginny was doing the same to Hermione, clad in her shorts and bra.

Both, of course, were laughing uproariously as their friends spluttered.

What followed was a very brief game of tag that ended with Harry atop Ginny and Hermione
atop Ron, and all four teenagers breathing heavily.

Almost idly, as they looked at each other, Ginny said, "I don't want to watch my brother shag.
But I'll watch a friend shag my best friend."

Ron blushed. "We're..."

Hermione groaned, one hand sliding to her chest. "I wasn't randy, but I am now. Thanks,
Ginny."

"What about me?" Ron muttered, "I don't want to see my best mate tagging my little sister."

"Then don't," Ginny said just as casually as before, "think of him as tagging a sexy red-head.
Pretend I'm Lilith, if you want."

"Er," Harry protested, not about that, "Your Mum...?"

"Mum knows."

Harry blinked. "How d'you-"

"She came out a bit ago, before you woke up," Ron said, "Told us to be back by dinner- and
to be careful."

Still, they didn't move much, Harry straddling Ginny's torso, Hermione Ron's waist.

Except, with an almost manic grin, Ginny's hand slipped up Harry's lightly-furred leg and
into his shorts from beneath, "Harry... is that a big cock in your pocket, or are you happy to
see me?"

"It's a big cock," Hermione whispered, eyeing her friend's actions even while mirroring them
with her own companion, "and he's very happy to see you."

Harry couldn't believe, sometimes, what his life had become.

Yet, as Hermione slid down Ron's legs to unzip the boy's worn cut-off jeans and free his own
member, it felt strangely normal to watch her sink her lips onto it for a few seconds before
pulling back with distaste. "That water isn't very tasty."

But it didn't stop her from going for more.

Ginny brought Harry's attention back to herself as she reached up to grab a fistful of his hair
and pulled him down into a kiss, still stroking him through his shorts-leg, the other fumbling
at the drawstring, then, once it was free, pulling the waistband out and down to free him
completely with both hands.
Harry smiled, taking over. He rose back to his knees and walked forward a little, pushing his
member beneath the strap of the bra between Ginny's small breasts and working himself up
and down a bit. She was a little bigger than Lilith like this, and it was nice, but more about
the eroticism of the act than pleasure for either of them.

"Ron, look," Hermione said, clearly watching them even while she slowly rode up and down
the ginger's own erection.

He did, eyes widening briefly, "How come I never thought of that? I mean, there was that
time with Lilith, but it never occurred to me to do it again."

Harry didn't think he realized, in that moment, that it was his sister's tits he was watching,
though they were still bra-covered.

Harry rectified that quickly, not caring himself.

He hadn't gotten much of a look in the moonlight at the end of the term, but with the plain bra
around her neck, hanging loosely, he could tell Ginny's nipples were small and pink, with
only thumb-sized areola around the tips, but quite firm at the moment. He watched as she
tweaked one, then the other, and opened her mouth to accept his head.

Ron groaned as it entered, turning his face back to the girl riding him. "Don't need to see
that..."

But he didn't stop, and neither did they.

In fact, after a few minutes, Harry pulled off and rolled Ginny's shorts down to just one ankle,
then the girl onto her side, fell in behind her, and slipped his cock into her folds.

"She's tiny compared to him," Hermione whispered.

Ron groaned again, and seemed unable to help himself from looking at where he and Ginny
were joined.

The thatch of coppery hair, the glistening slit, Harry's dick splitting it wide- his sister's own
pussy, one he hadn't seen since he'd hit puberty.

Charlie had been the one who'd made the mistake of walking in on her in the shower, once.

No one else had been that stupid, or they'd learned their lesson from him.

Now, though, Ginny didn't seem to care if Ron saw her, saw Harry filling her from behind,
saw him maul one breast, then the other, the free hand lightly grasping her pale throat as she
bounced against him.

Nor, Ginny found, did she care that her brother's own penis, longer but thinner than her own
lover's, was spearing into her best friend not five feet away.

If they wanted to reach out a hand, the siblings could touch.

In fact, not only did Ginny not care...

"Watch me, Ron- Watch Harry get me pregnant."

Ron groaned, muttered, "Slag," then put his hands on Hermione's waist and looked back up at
her, beginning to lift the girl several inches with each push of his hips.

The brunette squealed and almost fell, her still-wet hair flinging wildly as Ron rocked her,
not at all gently, but she didn't tell him to stop.

"I can't, Gin," Harry murmured into her ear, still filling her two or more times a second,
almost feverishly panting with the exertion, "I can't- not yet. Too young. Fuck, so tight, so
good... On your tits."

"Yeess..." Ginny groaned, climaxing at his words.

But Harry still had plenty left, and barely slowed as her body shivered and went rigid. Her
orgasm didn't really stop after that, not for over twenty minutes. Instead, it only entered
blissful peaks and valleys as Harry shagged the hell out of her, stretched her, but each time as
he came, pulled out to cover her, over and over, six times or more.

When he was finally satiated, his Pet was nearly unconscious, and Ron was, only barely half-
erect, twitching in Hermione's mouth, the other girl limply suckling at him like a straw,
pulling out the last bit.

That was when a naked Fleur Delacour, panting with ragged breath, stepped from the tree
line.

"'Arry... fuck... fuck m- mee..."

Lilith was stunning, beautiful, captivating.

So was Fleur, and in almost the opposite way.

If the Succubus was a demon, then Fleur was an angel, light to Lilith's dark.

Yet...

Her legs dribbled with drying seminal fluid already, she was naked and scratched, luxurious
hair plastered to her face, shoulders and back by sweat.

And her perfectly clear, sky-blue eyes were, at the moment, clouded by lust.

Her allure, whatever it was, hit him like a wave.

But Harry frowned, even as his penis- just recently finished again- woke back up.

"You love Bill, Fleur."

"Oui," she gasped, still staggering toward him, fingering herself with one hand while the
other helped her stay upright against the trees.

"You don't really want me, right?"

"Non."

Another step, another tree.

"But- right now...?"

"Oui.... please."

"Bill's... is he okay?"

"Asleep," the French half- (or quarter? Harry couldn't remember) Veela said haltingly, "I
'ave... worn 'im out."

Another tree. Just a few more steps and she, too, would be beneath the willow's boughs.

"Your friend, ze... wanton one... made me... made 'im, more... too much. Need more... a leetle
more..."

Harry sighed, "And if I say yes... will you regret it? Will he?"

"Non, please..."

Another step.

She was in the shadows, now, but still seemed radiant in the summer light.

Harry shook his head, but said, "Alright."

There was no love in it, this time, as much as Harry wanted to please her.

Not a single straight wizard (and not a few of the less-so, or straight witches) in Hogwarts
would have refused her two years ago, and Harry couldn't see himself doing so now. They
were friends... and she clearly needed help, help he could provide.

Instead, as Fleur landed, one hand supporting her, against the willow's trunk, Harry stepped
into her, lifting one of the woman's flexible legs over his shoulder- a position only Lilith had
been able to mimic so far- and lanced into her, hard and fast.

"Gods, yes," Fleur gasped, "Fill me! Take me!"

Her breasts, Harry decided, while he started rutting at her, were just about perfect. Flawless
in skin, everywhere, he knew (he'd suspected when he saw the swimsuit during the Second
Task), and nearly so in form, but she was almost a little too perfect, and it was jarring, in a
strangely fey way.
Yet, he wanted her badly- he had since they'd met, like everyone else- and now was his
chance.

Not to take Fleur from Bill, not if they were in love. And he knew she'd at least been
interested in the older Weasley since the Triwizard Tournament.

She needed help, and he could satisfy her- and she him.

After a few minutes, the other leg joined the first on his shoulder, both on the same side, and
her back had begun to bleed form the bark, but he didn't stop until Fleur, folded in half,
screamed his name at the top of her lungs, and gushed around him.

Harry could not pull out- he was holding her up, but if he moved that far back, she would fall.

He emptied, in more than ten long, strong, spurts, into Fleur's belly.

Slowly, as he calmed, he lowered her to the grass at the base of the tree.

And, sleepily, her eyes closed while his semen dribbled from between her legs.

He, too, eventually drifted off, unable to truly process what had just happened.

Eventually, Lilith came out to find them, after Mrs. Weasley had already left (with the excuse
from Bill that he'd 'caught something', along with Fleur), and siphoned off her Master's seed
from the traditional rival of her species.

This one, though... she would be useful. She'd already had friendly, and a bit more, feelings
for her Master. True, once, she'd been in love with Bill Weasley.

Even that very morning.

But now things were different.

"Master," she said, crouching low and in her normal form for the time being, "It's time for
dinner. Mrs. Weasley left you all plenty."

Groggily, he opened his eyes, already reaching for his shorts. "Er... what- shit. Fleur. Bill."

"Relax, Master," Lilith said quietly, "I'll take care of it. In fact, that's why she's here- I've
started."

He frowned. "You... gave them some Fog, right? I think that's what she meant..."

Lilith nodded, speaking softer than him, "Yes- let your friends sleep for a minute while we
talk."

He frowned. "You didn't need to make her do that..."

"No, Master, I did. Let me explain before you jump to conclusions, alright?"
Harry nodded reluctantly, continuing to dress, and transfiguring a blanket out of the sheet
they'd had a picnic lunch on to cover Fleur with while she returned.

"We are from a different version of your reality, we've established this, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"So are they- Veela. Many of your 'fey' creatures are. Our plane and theirs even overlap, far
more than this one does with either. Our races are enemies- have been for a long, long time.
Since before there were humans on any world we know of aside from this one. We are
similar, in many ways rivals. We'd have ended up killing each other if it came to blows- and
with me dead, I couldn't feed, and you'd be in violation of contract, and vanish from this
world. There goes your world. With me? Or if she was the one that died, you'd lose friends
and allies."

Slowly, he nodded again.

"So, yes, I had to resolve the situation without conflict. Fortunately, she was already heavily
involved in her former lover's pleasure, and it was relatively easy to dose them both. Once he
was physically unable to continue, she, reasonably, turned to the nearest virile man- you. You
were the last one in the area that could satisfy her, and you did."

"Yes, but- why? Why ruin their relationship?"

"I didn't, necessarily," Lilith said, sitting on the grass and starting to stroke Fleur's hair, which
was starting to dry, "they could still be happy together. He'll never really satisfy her again,
and she'll stray if they do, but they can still be happy. He does know what she is, after all, and
expects it even. It's... sort of like expecting me to be with only you. I could. I don't really
want to."

"On the other hand," the Succubus continued, "this way, she adds her not-inconsiderable
strength directly to you, instead of indirectly. You'll need to Bond her for that to be a done
deal, but she'll serve you without it, I think."

"She doesn't feel like home, though," Harry said softly, "It was amazing- I loved it- but it's
not the same."

"Is that because you think of her as his? Or because you don't want to take her from him?
Because neither of those is true anymore, even if it was when you shagged her."

"I... I don't know."

"Neither do I, Master," the Succubus said, "But I have a good idea. Just out of curiosity, how
long were you planning on staying here?"

Harry frowned. "Um... a few days, I still want to visit my godfather. Why?"

"Because despite her protestations about the upcoming nuptials between this one and her old
lover, Mrs. Weasley may- may- be more upset that her first prospect of grandchildren has
ended than that you lot are 'involved'."
Harry paled.

As it turned out, no, Mrs. Weasley did not care overly much that Bill was heartbroken after
Fleur had promptly ended things between them after waking.

That she had walked in on Hermione being mounted by Harry, and the next day her youngest
son while Ginny watched, was a bit much.

So Fleur had, temporarily, gone home to be with her family in this time of heartbreak (a week
at most, she had assured Harry, then back to England to support the Order, and him). They
hadn't actually talked much... in fact, as far as he could recall, his spoken words to Fleur over
the next two days had basically been, "Faster, harder, lower, deeper," while hers were along
the lines of, "Yes, yes, yes!"

Ginny, too, had been most accommodating, and between her, Hermione on occasion, and
Fleur, even Lilith was seeing a decrease in her time with Harry.

Not that she minded, for Ron was there, too, and Harry was no longer hesitant to share the
Succubus with his best mate.

Still, it was with a rather somber expression after he'd repacked to visit Sirius (a day earlier
than planned) that he and Lilith, again as Lilian, had sat Mrs. Weasley down and told her the
truth. At least, the truth about the Succubus, and his relationship(s)- non-traditional as they
were- with Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and the demoness herself.

He didn't mention any voyeurism on the part of the siblings, though, and stayed carefully
away from the subject, just in case.

In the end, Mrs. Weasley had pulled Harry into a rather teary hug, told him she'd see him next
summer at the latest, and given a most curt nod to 'Lilian', before shaking Hermione's hand
(rather tightly, making the younger girl wince), and sending those three on their way.

Her own children, of course, would not be visiting 'that rogue' without being under her
watchful eye.

And through the Floo they went, using the phrase, "The Kennel," to the house Sirius had
purchased after reaching his majority with money loaned by Harry's grandparents.

Harry sprawled out onto a thick, shag carpet in deep violet in the gaudiest living room he
could have imagined- straight out of the 70's.

And there, as first 'Lilian' and then Hermione stepped far more gracefully than he from the
fire, was a laughing Sirius Orion Black.

"I'll never get over that- your Mum was the same way," the older wizard guffawed, "James
was good at it, though... maybe you'll pick it up. Eventually."

But as Harry hugged his godfather, long and hard, the old wizard tightened. "Wh- Why, hello.
I don't believe we've met, Miss...?"
"Vergot," 'Lilian' said happily, offering a hand, which Sirius took and grazed his lips against,
"You may call me Lilian, or Lilith, as you prefer. But I'm afraid you'll need to empty your
mind of those thoughts- I'm Harry's girl."

Sirius froze, half-upright, eyes locked on Lilian's bountiful chest. "Er..."

Then it was his and Hermione's turn to laugh.

Eventually, after a brief tour, the girls settled in for a nap. It had been a long morning, what
with the discussion with Mrs. Weasley, and Harry sat down to have a chat with his father's
oldest friend.

"So, Harry... bit old for you, yeah?"

"She's a Succubus."

"Ha, good one. No, really, how'd you bag her? She's gorgeous."

"No, really, she's a Succubus."

"Come on, Prongslet-"

"No- really. Ritual, Contract, and all."

After a few seconds, there was a long, low whistle. Then, Sirius got up, poured himself a
glass of brandy from the nearby cabinet, poured another for Harry, slammed both back, and
refilled both before sitting back down next to his godson on the couch.

"You're serious."

"No, you're Sirius."

"Clever," the older wizard muttered, "Haven't heard that one before."

"But yes," Harry murmured, "I've been honest. So far, Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley, and you
are the only adults that know."

"So basically, everyone but Remus and maybe Arthur with some responsibility for you,
yeah?"

Harry nodded.

Again, Sirius let out a low, long whistle. "I tried, once. Couldn't get the ritual right- too
distracted by the girl going down on me, I guess."

Harry's look of incredulity could have melted glass, but Sirius only grinned, "No, really.
Marlene McKinnon. Looker, easy back then- heard she's a bit uptight, now, but I don't see her
much. Still in the Order. She... lost a kid, in the last war. Might've been mine."
The last words were delivered quietly, but Sirius didn't give him much time to process it. "I
don't know, of course- people were getting around a fair bit back then, you know. 'Might die
tonight' sort of thing. Could've been, though. Hell, I bagged- nevermind."

Harry said nothing, and Sirius did not elaborate. Eventually, though, the long-haired wizard
said, "So, a Succubus. Really. How's that working out for you? Good in bed?"

Harry finally mastered the art of raising just one eyebrow, and Sirius laughed.

"I missed you, Pup. Come on, tell me the details! Man up!"

"I don't shag and tell," Harry muttered.

Hermione, from the kitchen, called, "Liar!" then giggled as she drew a glass of water and
went back upstairs.

His godfather kept needling him, and, with the aid of the brandy (which burned his throat
with each sip, but wasn't bad), Harry told Sirius everything.

This time, for real, everything. Except the best details, which is what Sirius wanted to hear.

Payback's a bitch.

Two days later, the Prophet had a new headline: Sirius Black Exonerated!

The article was short and to the point, with an emphasis on how he'd never been tried, and the
recent evidence that linked Peter Pettigrew's existence to Voldemort's being spotted in the
Ministry of Magic.

After reading it, Sirius had pointed Harry toward a short stack of papers on one of the side-
tables in the gaudy living room, which had more, dating back a few weeks.

New Minister for Magic Elected!

Fudge to Resign!

Umbridge Trial rocks Ministry of Magic! Indictments abound!

And so on, and so forth, twelve in all, at least one a week since summer had started.

Harry had gone up to bed that night, on the eve of his birthday, with a humongous smile. That
very day, they'd started the foster process at the Ministry.

He would not have to see the Dursleys again, and after a Floo-call from Professor
Dumbledore, that seemed certain.

Harry had barely been outside the suburban home in the Muggle neighborhood his godfather
had been living at, and didn't make it out that night, either.
The smile widened as he entered the room with a king-sized bed his godfather had designated
as "Prongslet's Thicket".

The room was dimly lit at night, wide and spacious, with its own fireplace and a few
wizarding portraits, each with its own curtain- Harry had basically left them closed since he'd
been introduced to them his first day there. The two wide windows, as well, were heavily
curtained at night, allowing the warm sun in during the day.

Hermione was nude aside from a blindfold, and tied with silk ribbons a few inches thick to
the various bedposts. The only other occupant of the room was Lilith, who 'wore' what
looked like shiny black vinyl and held a crop in one hand, her own favorite dildo (she now
owned three of various shapes and sizes) in the other. The vinyl suit was all-but painted on,
and it covered her from mid-neck to her toes, but left very little of the currently voluptuous
Succubus' curvy form to the imagination, not even the slit of her groin, or the puckering
nipples.

"Master," Lilith cooed as he entered, "I've been waiting."

"Er... I didn't know, sorry," he said, already moving to take off his shirt. Lilith, though,
smacked him across the chest as soon as it was around his head with the end of the crop.
"Naughty- this isn't your present, Master. It's mine. Your birthday's tomorrow, remember?"

He laughed- the crop had stung for a brief moment, but hadn't hurt. Still, he pulled the shirt
free and reached behind himself to lock the door. "Really, Pet... well, I suppose you've earned
a treat. What did you have in mind?"

"This one," Lilith gestured with the large purple dildo, which wiggled a bit in her hand, "has
told me she'll allow me to please her, and she's agreed to the methods I choose- so long as
she's able to give you your present tomorrow."

"I see. And where do I fit in?"

Lilith grinned, pointing now with the crop to the desk chair, which had been pulled to face
the bed a few feet away, the fireplace behind it about ten feet back. "There, Master. Stay
there. If you get up, I'll have to tie you up, and you can't pleasure yourself that way."

Harry grunted. Rubbing one out wasn't how he'd wanted to spend the evening... but it might
be fun.

He watched, shucking his clothes quickly, and sat down while Lilith started talking solely to
Hermione. "You agreed to this, right?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

"You want to enjoy it?"

"Y- Yes."

"You know I'm a girl, right? It's naughty for girls to fuck other girls."
"Y- Yes," Hermione said again, this time even quieter.

"Your friend's watching, sees you open and eager. You want him to fuck you? Or do you
want... me?"

Hermione squirmed on the bed, twisting slightly, but there was very little give in the ties. "I...
I want b- both."

"Not tonight, love," Lilith cooed, "Tonight, you're all mine. Harry- our Master- has tasked me
with training you to please a woman. If you pay attention and work hard, I'll enjoy it- and if I
do, you will, too. Does that sound alright?"

Again, Hermione's body twisted, her breasts shaking, but she nodded.

Without warning, the crop slashed across Hermione's stomach, leaving a soft welt. The girl
yelped, her back arching upward as if seeking more pain, then fell back as she panted. "If
you're naughty," Lilith said casually, "You'll feel that. If you're a good girl..."

Next, she trailed the dildo down between Hermione's heaving breasts, across the welt, and
down to her crotch, where she twisted and wiggled it into the dripping slit.

Again, Harry could feel Hermione's arousal as a palpable thing, beyond even the hyper-
sensitivity to the smells of it.

Like he had with Fleur too, he realized now.

And Ginny.

"Do you want it inside you?"

"M... yes...?"

She did not sound very sure, and Harry couldn't blame her. Lilith enjoyed having her little
girl's body stretched wide by the massive thing, which was far bigger around than him- nearly
as big as the widest part of his forearm.

The crop slashed down again, "You're naughty if you want this big, thick thing inside you."

Hermione whimpered.

"Naughty-" slash, "girls," whish, "need- punishing."

The last two were softer, but flew with unerring accuracy across each of Hermione's
outstretched nipples.

She cried out again, arching upward once more.

Harry's cock strained in his hand- he didn't enjoy seeing Hermione hurt.

But fuck, that was hot. Her reaction, if nothing else.

The loss of control...

The control Lilith had.

He started stroking, lightly.

The crop was set aside, briefly, while Lilith climbed up onto the bed, and put the tip of the
dildo into her own pussy, then against Hermione's lips. "Pretend that's Master's cock," Lilith
whispered.

Slowly, Hermione licked around the tip, then opened as wide as she could. Only the head
slipped in, but still, Hermione coughed. Lilith did not remove it, though, until Hermione
relaxed a little. "There, that's a good girl. Good girl..."

Small hands fell to Hermione's chest, pushing the breasts together, squeezing and kneading
softly for a few seconds, then with one hand she pulled the dildo out, reaching down to insert
it fully, this time, into her own hole with a sigh. Despite the size, in her older body it slipped
in strangely easily, though Harry could see the Succubus' folds warping wildly to accept it.
"Did you like the flavor, Pet?"

Hermione didn't answer.

With a frown, Lilith picked up the crop again, then dropped it with a smirk. Instead, she
leaned down and took a nipple into her mouth- and bit it.

Hard.

She bounced, laughing, as Hermione's body pushed her upward as she writhed, but did not let
go for three full seconds.

At once, Lilith turned, pushing one, two, then three fingers into Hermione's gaping cunt,
twisting and pulling against her g-spot rapidly.

Hermione grunted, gasping, mouth and eyes beneath the blindfold gaping as her hips
spasmed suddenly.

In just ten seconds, she squirted across the room. Lilith kept going for five more, then pulled
her fingers free and shoved them into Hermione's mouth, right against her tongue. "Taste it,
slut," she whispered, using her other hand to force the girl's mouth closed on her fingers,
"taste your own cum. It's good, right? I love the flavor, personally. Master does, too. Like
honey."

Harry's hand moved faster.

When Lilith pulled out, Hermione gasped, "I... I suppose I- it's not bad."

Lilith squirmed a little, showing Harry her pert arse and pussy stretched by the purple rubber,
then reached back to pull it out, dripping, and shoved it, too, into Hermione's mouth
forcefully. "And this? Clean it!"
Again, Hermione choked, but her tongue moved, and while it did, Lilith's hand went back to
work on the human's pussy.

Just as she started to squirt again, Lilith removed the dildo and tossed it to the bed. "How's
that flavor?"

"B- Bubblegum?"

"That's what Master says," Lilith grins, "I think so, too. You like it, don't you?"

"Y- yes... I do."

"Good, you'll get more later. Now... cum for Master. He's watching you- let go."

The fingers plunged in again, and with one hand on her nipples, too, Hermione squirted for
the third time, half-way across the room, shrieking in ecstasy.

Once that one, too, had started to calm, Lilith straddled Hermione's head, facing Harry, with a
smile. "Now, Pet... you've been mostly good so far. So it's time for you to get a treat."

Then she lowered herself onto Hermione's face.

Harry knew Hermione had performed cunnilingus only twice before, both times on Lilith.
Her lack of experience showed, but the Succubus still sighed in pleasure as the larger girl's
tongue went to work on her sensitive folds. With Lilith holding them open with one hand,
while the free one working on Hermione's tits, Harry continued to stroke himself, feeling a
surprisingly pleasant orgasm approaching, if slowly.

Then Lilith brought the crop down directly across Hermione's twat, and she screamed again,
this time arching her hips into the air.

The moment her rear hit the bed again, though, Lilith was there, expert lips and tongue
dancing across the injured folds, pulling on the hooded clit, and otherwise teaching Hermione
exactly how it was done.

Her whimper of pain quickly turned to a groan of pleasure, and the witch's oral efforts
redoubled.

"My clit, Hermione," Lilith groaned after Hermione had had another orgasm, her fourth.
"Focus on it- suck it. Suck it like you sucked Master's and Ron's cocks."

Lilith arched slightly, and he watched as that very organ grew slightly, Lilith sending him a
wink. "Trust me, Master... please."

After she shuddered into a climax of her own after a few more minutes, Lilith backed away,
walking backward on her knees to sit above Hermione's head. Then her wings grew visible,
and she floated upward, alighting on her feet next to the bed. "Now... now I have another
present for you. Figure it out, slut.... wait for it..."
But Lilith turned to him, and he watched, a little queasy but still transfixed as, just above the
clitoris itself, a penis erupted into view, slowly at first, but then growing full and large and
erect in just seconds once it had appeared.

And it rivalled his own in size, though it was smoother, almost artificial-looking, though
Harry could tell at a glance it was functional- it throbbed and pulsed with Lilith's racing
heart.

He looked up past it to the Succubus' face. This is close to my real one, Master... I have both.
Always have. I'll explain more later. If you want me to. I can get rid of it and never show you
again, if you want.

Harry silently shook his head and mouthed, "Fuck her."

Lilith blew him a kiss and a wink, then turned, bending to line her penis up with Hermione's
clenched hand, rubbing it along the girl's extremity without using her own. "You know what
that is, Pet... you know what to do."

Hermione's hand twisted in the silken loop, and she started stroking eagerly. "Gods, Harry,
you're so hard," she whispered.

And he was, but...

"I'm over here."

The hand fell still. "R- Ron?"

"Nope," he murmured.

"S- S-Sirius?"

"Nope."

Lilith took Hermione's hand in hers and started it moving again, grinning as she did, then let
go. The hand kept moving, and Hermione's body squirmed again, in either anticipation or
nerves. Both, probably.

The crop dragged lightly, this time, over and around each of the human's nipples, down
between her breasts, then back up, grazing the underside of one, across her throat, and down
the other before reaching the hair between her legs.

"Do you want this-" she flexed her dick, "-in there?"

Hesitantly, Hermione nodded.

"Say it, Hermione," Harry added, hand working himself furiously, the other now cupping his
balls, too.

"I want this cock in me," Hermione whispered, "whoever it is. It's big..."
It was, Harry knew. Not quite as big as his, but close. Not that it mattered, he highly
suspected Lilith could change that, too. Comparing was pointless.

"Stop stroking it then, slut," Lilith whispered.

Reluctantly, Hermione did.

But Lilith didn't do what the other girl wanted. Instead, she moved back up to her head,
facing Harry, and angled the erection downward, the top crossing over Hermione's nose and
the blindfold, and brushing her lips. "You know what to do.. Like Ron said- Show Harry how
well you can suck a dick."

That Lilith had mimicked Ron's voice perfectly only made the moment better.

Hermione shuddered and writhed, but obediently opened her mouth.

She could only take a few inches at first, but after rising up on her knees a bit and leaning
forward, Lilith sank inch after inch into her mouth and down Hermione's throat, until her
head hung just above the human girl's groin, and her stomach rested on Hermione's chin.

"Shit," Harry muttered, feeling that same orgasm close rapidly. Seeing the Succubus' clearly
female form with a very male-looking member (though he thought he saw her pussy there as
well, as if her clit had transformed into the dick) was strange, but he had to admit is was very
arousing as well. Watching her violate his girlfriend's throat like that had him very on-edge,
too.

Lilith looked sideways, sending him a lusty wink, then pulled out until only her head was in
again, then went back down. In, out, five, ten more times.

The last time, she came out slowly, her body shaking.

Fuck, almost came- she's so good. It's almost freaky, how good she is for a human.

Harry could only send, "I know," back.

"That was pretty good, slut," Lilith said, floating back up to stand next to the bed once more,
but this time at the foot, facing Hermione's crotch. "But Master's randy, and you haven't
gotten him off, yet."

Left unsaid was that it was hard when tied up, but... no one said a slut's lot was easy.

The crop came down again, just a few times, not terribly hard, on the front of Hermione's
thighs.

Her arms, on the inside upper part.

The underside of each breast, where they were most sensitive.

Then, with another glance toward Harry as she moved, Lilith climbed back up onto the bed,
and put her phallus against Hermione's entrance.
Harry asked, "Do you want it, Hermione? That big strange cock?"

"Y- Yes, H- Harry."

"Do you know whose it is?"

That one was Lilith.

This time, Hermione shook her head.

"Oh... Master, will you pull the blindfold off, for me?"

With a grin, Harry obeyed, pressing a quick kiss, eyes filled with the same love he saw
reflected in Hermione's, to the girl's mouth as he pulled away, then remained standing next to
the bed for a better view of the action, his hand still stroking himself.

Only then did Hermione look down.

Her eyes widened just as Lilith pushed in, and in.

This time, her scream was not one of pain.

Shit, that is pretty hot, Harry admitted to himself while his climax rapidly built.

He'd seen some of Dudley's porn- he favored girl on girl- where they used strap-on dildos.

This was almost like that, Lilith's heavy breasts shaking up and down, Hermione's back and
forth as they bucked together, only it was real, and there wasn't a strap around Lilith's waist.

Undeniably sexy to him, in other words, not that he'd expected otherwise by this point.

But he couldn't stay still.

He stepped back, reminding Lilith that he was mostly keeping his promise- he'd stay out of it-
but moved the chair to be by the girls' feet, watching as Lilith stretched out Hermione, as the
girl's flesh warped and weaved, was pulled out and pushed back in by the throbbing member.

Harry noted, as he started to grunt, that he could still see all of Lilith's quite functional cunt,
too- but next time.

"Where, Hermione?" Lilith murmured, just as Harry's vision started to shimmer. "I can't
make you pregnant."

"I- In me! I love it so much!"

Harry had a close-up view as Lilith's girl-cock pulsed over and over, swelling and receding,
as what must have been an ungodly amount of cum flooded into Hermione, pushing out past
the same swollen member to run out onto the bedspread.

As it did, Harry's own dick leapt in his hands, and he sprayed over Lilith's round arse, her
back, and pussy, and got just a little over the small Succubus' head onto Hermione's lip.
He collapsed back onto the chair, chest heaving, and watched as the Succubus' dick shrunk,
then disappeared, leaving the hole unplugged, and obscene levels of white goo to flood out.

Goo that Lilith wasted no time in licking back up, sucking it all back into her mouth with a
satisfied grin and belch.

A few minutes later, exhausted and worn out, all three fell asleep atop the covers. At least
Harry had remembered to untie Hermione.

Once again, he woke to having his morning wood worked. This time, he could tell it was not
orally.

Instead, Harry opened his eyes to see Hermione riding him in a reverse position, back arched
against him, held up by a fluttering, flying Lilith, who worked her own cock, smaller now, in
and out of Hermione's mouth. "Good morning, Master," the Succubus said, tone sultry, "your
Pet's warmed up, if you can't tell."

Harry groaned, feeling himself already about to explode.

Still, he forced himself out and slid to the side, allowing Hermione to flop onto the bed, eyes
seeking him out in complaint even while she kept trying to inhale Lilith's now... what, five-
inch erection?

Something fitting her small size, anyway.

"Don't stop," he ordered them both, but bodily lifted Hermione by the shoulders so her head
hung off the edge of the bed, as it had the first time she'd swapped between him and Ron.

Then, with a wink at Lilith, he shoved his dick inside Hermione's mouth, too.

Like with Ron, he felt a moment of queasiness at having another penis so close to his, but it
passed quickly- penis or not, this was Lilith, his Pet.

Both scissored in and out for a few seconds while Hermione gagged, but Harry was already
close, and didn't pull away until he'd filled Hermione's throat with his seed.

He staggered back afterward, still hard, and pulled Lilith away by the waist, holding her up.
"Swallow, Hermione, then breath. Lilith- keep it, for now."

He didn't know what the difference was, really. He should still be a bit sick- felt like he
wanted to be, in a way, but he was also so very randy...

After Hermione had caught her breath, he forced Lilith, squirming, down onto his cock,
moving her body up and down with only the strength of his arms while Hermione watched
from below. He heard and almost saw the small penis slapping against Lilith's stomach, but
after a few minutes, he moved forward again and, hesitating only briefly, took the alien
member in his hand and aimed it at Hermione's mouth again.
She opened eagerly, eyes wide, to receive it, hands now moving furiously on her own pussy,
three fingers inside and the other on her clit, while Lilith's hands moved to cover both girls'
tits.

Harry groaned- he could feel each time Lilith flexed her cock, because it pulled on her own
vagina, and it was thrilling to know that he was fucking her, his Pet, into Hermione's mouth.

And he could still hear Hermione's breathing, so there was no reason to stop.

This time, Lilith came first, groaning and twitching into Hermione's mouth, but Harry filled
the little twat with his seed a moment later, pulling back before she could absorb it to let the
white goo drip into Hermione's waiting mouth, which she swallowed eagerly.

Weakly, he fell back to the bed, panting.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Hermione said around his cum, gargling it and then swallowing
once more.

"I agree, happy birthday, Master."

"So far, it has been," he chuckled, "I need a shower, though- and the loo."

Both girls were gone when he came out of his very own ensuite (Sirius had apparently given
him the master bath, but his own bedroom had a smaller one, too), though he could somehow
sense both nearby.

And.... hungry? But that was dissipating.

He dressed quickly, heading downstairs in an unsurprisingly chipper mood.

"Remus! Hi, Tonks!"

Both of the Order members had 'volunteered' as 'Order Security' on Harry's birthday, since
Sirius had planned a Muggle excursion until about four, to the big tourist spots along the
Thames, from 10 Downing Street to the Westminster Abbey, and along the amusement parks
that seemed to cover the South Bank.

Harry was suitably beat by the time they returned to the Kennel.

But the surprises were not over.

A series of letters, some owls still waiting for return word, were nesting around the living
room when they returned. Some had packages, wrapped mostly.

"Er... birthday gifts?" Sirius supplied with a shrug, joining Tonks and Remus- who seemed to
be together, somehow, despite studiously avoiding each other's company- in checking the lot
for hexes, traps, poisons, or what-have-you.

After a few seconds of watching their movements and words, Hermione joined in.
Some of the letters bore names like "Greengrass", or "Parkinson", or "Carrow."

Yet, none of them, to the surprise of the majority of the adults, were trapped.

Sirius, though, was not. "It's not proper," he admitted, "I just checked out of courtesy. It's
Harry's sixteenth. His 'coming out', if he were a muggle girl of high society. You know, like
giving a wizard a watch on the same birthday? Speaking of, Harry, yours is upstairs- but don't
worry, I got you a real present, too. Most of these are old families, they wouldn't besmirch
their names by attacking him that way. They are probably honest gifts."

Harry was a little more cautious. Remus and Tonks didn't know the whole story yet, though
Sirius knew about his arrangement with Daphne and the times he'd spent with Pansy- even
the worst of it.

Still, if he thought it was okay...

Harry shrugged, and sat down on the couch, pulling the nearest package to him.

Clothes. A little bit of manly jewelry, including a watch from, of all people, Cornelius Fudge
("Just in case you don't get another, Harry- no hard feelings?" - Yeah, right).

A dagger, silvered, with an emerald adorning the pommel and crossguard, some nine inches
long. Remus frowned, and for the first time, Harry was sure when Tonks took his hand,
giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure whoever sent it didn't mean anything personal by it,
Remus," she murmured.

Harry still quickly tucked it well away, out of his uncle-figure's sight, before moving on.

The Carrow sisters- 'acting on behalf of their family'- had sent him something Hermione
thought was a bit gauche, but that Sirius assured her was actually fairly traditional- a voucher
for Harry and 'his chosen' to have their portraits, a pair of them, made at any point in the
future, up to a century hence.

"Also worth a fair bit, those," Tonks informed the group, "Mum said hers and dad's cost
upwards of two hundred Galleons each. Donno what it was in pounds, but it's steep. Nice
gift, really, if a bit... neutral."

Pansy had pointedly not mentioned her family. In fact, she hadn't given Harry much- just a
list of some books he 'might purchase and enjoy'. That the first was titled, Wizarding
Genealogy: Nature's Nobility was a clue, and Sirius scoffed. "If you want to read that
garbage, that's on you," his godfather had muttered after glancing at the list, "I've got a copy
at Headquarters you can have- and good riddance to it. The rest of that- wait... wait a second.
The Kama Sutra? Ha! Hahahaha!"

The very last book was, indeed, the Kama Sutra.

A book even sheltered Harry had heard of.

Hermione blushed.
Tonks did, too.

Remus started laughing, and a moment later, so did 'Lilian'.

But Harry was the most red-faced, and he quickly stuffed the letter away.

Neville, too, had sent him something: a collection of correspondence between their respective
parents (copies, in the case of Neville's originals, and the originals of Harry's). Fifty or more
letters.

Harry's eyes watered, making it hard to read the note, Thanks, Harry. You know why. Life is
grand, yeah? We should enjoy it while we can. You never know when it'll be too late. Oh, it
worked. Thanks. Really. Don't make it weird.

It was unsigned, but Harry didn't need another autograph from one of his best friends.

Instead, he only smiled and tucked that note away in his shirt pocket.

The last gifts were, ironically, both from Greengrasses.

The first, a man named Cyrus and presumably his wife, Ophelia. The package was small,
wrapped in a deep green, almost black, with flecks of gold. The note was short, too, but
inside the package itself a longer note was folded tightly, inside a box no more than two
inches to a side. The first note read only, Mr. Harry Potter, on his sixteenth birthday.

The second was a bit more in-depth, and Harry made sure only Lilith was behind him before
he started reading, just in case.

Mr. Harry Potter,

Tradition dictates that members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, those extant families responsible
for forming our modern government and nation, recognize when a member of any family
achieves their sixteenth year. As such, we present to you, as a family, this gift. Furthermore,
we have a request. This is not traditional, but we believe you will understand the need once,
or if, you have opened our daughter's package. The contents inside the package are
restorable with a simple engorgement charm, which any available of-age witch or wizard
may perform for you. Please do not open it unless you are in private, however. The matters
contained therein do not concern others outside of our family, and yours.

Yours,

Cyrus and Ophelia Greengrass.

The problem was... "I trust all of you," he said quietly, then held out the package to Sirius,
who was closest.

The moment the package was touched by Sirius' wand-tip, Harry yanked his hand away.

It was a good thing, too. Otherwise, it would have been crushed beneath a rather large, steel-
bound trunk.
"Er... that's not what I expected," Harry said into the silence of the room.

"Open it, Harry," Hermione urged, smiling faintly, but clearly nervous, with wand in hand.

Slowly, he reached over and undid the clasp, then lifted the lid.

He gasped, nearly dropping the lid.

Inside was a girl.

One he recognized: Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's younger sister.

Her skin was blue, her lips darker, and a chill mist slipped from the box.

But even as they watched, the girl started to shiver, the box glowing red for a few seconds,
until her eyes opened.

Then she blinked, looking around. "You're- I'm not at home. You aren't Death Eaters."

Harry shook his head.

"Oh, thank the gods," the girl, no older than fourteen and likely younger, sighed. "Potter,
then?"

This time, he nodded.

Slowly, hands trembling and visibly weak, the girl started to rise from where she'd been
crouched in an almost fetal position, and put a hand on the edge of the trunk to stabilize
herself while she stood.

She was clad only in a housecoat, but it was tight and revealed little, though Hermione
quickly dashed upstairs to get her more.

Harry, too, leapt to his feet and offered his hand, which the younger girl gingerly took as she
stepped out of the box. "Thank you, Mr. Potter," the girl said softly, looking around.
"Presumably, you are... Sirius Orion Black. Which makes you- of course I know you,
Professor Lupin. And... Ms... Tonks? Daughter of Andromeda Bl- er..."

"Tonks," the metamorph said, a bit frostily, "Her name is Tonks- same's mine. Yeah, that's
me."

The girl nodded, "My apologies. I... I'm not a big believer in my parents' philosophies. I can't
believe they actually agreed to this... But when I heard what you'd done for my sister, Mr.
Potter, I had to try. Have you read her letter, yet?"

Just then, Hermione returned, carrying two more voluminous, less sheer bathrobes, and she
first draped them both around Astoria's shoulders, then helped her tie them- clearly, she was
still freezing, not to mention a bit less... exposed.
"Please, do. I'm Astoria, by the way. Astoria Greengrass. You're... Hermione Granger? Thank
you."

"Don't mention it," Hermione said with a faint smile.

"And... I'm sorry, ma'am," Astoria turned to 'Lilian', "I don't recognize you. I honestly
expected to see only Weasleys, and these two. Maybe Professor Dumbledore."

Lilith smiled, "Don't worry about it, dear. Are you still cold?"

Astoria nodded, shivering, and rubbed her hands together. "Yes, but it's passing. We had to do
it that way- I'd have suffocated otherwise. It's your birthday, right, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"So it's been close to a week in the trunk. I... I can't believe it worked. I can't believe they
agreed."

"Agreed to what, exactly?" Sirius asked, clearly still suspicious. Underaged or not, his wand
was in-hand behind the girl.

"This," Astoria gestured, at the trunk, herself, then everyone around. "At getting me out.
Daphne... please, Mr. Potter, read her letter. Quickly."

"She's not going to pop out like an icicle, is she...?" Harry asked, actually worried that she
would say yes.

Or no, depending on how you looked at it.

"No," Astoria giggled, "She's safe with- others. J- Just read it, p-please."

Her teeth were starting to chatter.

"Tea," Hermione said, dashing back into the kitchen, joined a moment later by Remus, who
knew where everything in Sirius' house was.

Harry read while it was prepared, and both Tonks and Sirius, along with Lilith, shared several
strange looks across the room.

Mr. Potter,

Harry. I'm sorry about the- other package, if it's there. My parents are a bit... less agreeable
than I am to listen to reason and hear your side of things. I've done it, we're- all of us, for
now- at Millicent's betrothal home. Her parents have agreed to let her have it, with a few
stipulations we can live with. Take care of my sister until I see you next, please. She's...
delicate. Sickly. A curse rests on her. A Blood Maledict, to be precise. There's no magic our
family has seen in generations that can cure her. No, I don't have it- once a generation. That's
why there's so few boys, it usually shows up there. It's why our family has struggled to stay
alive. Why we sided with the Dark Lord- he offered hope.
False hope, it turns out. My parents can't back out- they're Marked.

But I'm not, and Astoria's not.

My pledge was true, for her.

If there's any hope left, it's with the Light.

I don't know what you can do. Probably nothing. But we had to try. I hope I've convinced
them, and they did actually send my sister, not some curse. If you can't help... at least she'll
be safer with you, than as some prize for the likes of Greg or Vincent to paw over. I'd
appreciate you not using your 'wiles' on her, though. She's my baby sister.

Unfortunately, I don't know how we'll meet up until the Train, if then. We don't dare leave the
house, because we're being watched. We have to Apparate away- none of us are licensed yet-
to get this out. Hope it works, and we make it back in one piece.

If I don't... it was fun, sort of.

-Greengrass

P.S. You'd better not back out, Potter.

Harry ran a hand through suddenly-frazzled hair. "Well. That's... a little more than I expected,
but..."

He handed the note to Hermione, since Lilith had read it over his shoulder.

Astoria grinned, sipping at the tea, but mostly clutching the cup to her chest with both white
hands. "She's cool, huh?"

"Cool... frigid, maybe," Hermione muttered.

"No, I'm the frigid one," Astoria said with a faint grin.

Everyone in the room, even Sirius, groaned.

By seven, Harry had Floo-called the Weasleys to tell them he and Hermione wouldn't be able
to come for his birthday cake there, but asked if they could postpone till the next day. When
asked why, Sirius had butted his head in, "Oh, something came up. You'll see tomorrow, I
expect. I really am sorry, but it's unexpected. Toodles!"

Then he'd cancelled the call, leaving Harry hunched beneath him with his head in the
abruptly-cold fireplace.

Astoria, after she'd finished the tea, was given a warm dinner cooked up by Remus and Harry
(who insisted), then led up to to take a warm, then a hot, bath.

Eventually, she was put to bed in "Lilian's" guest room.

Sirius, after all, knew everything, and Remus and Tonks would find out soon if they didn't
already.

That Remus and Tonks were sharing "Hermione's" guest room, according to Sirius, told
Harry that his suspicions were true- and confirmed Remus', too.

The package that Daphne had sent?

A present for Harry, in a way, but that was a single roll of official-looking parchment, with
her signature at the bottom and a spot of blood, and a place for both of his. A contract.

For... his children, and hers. Theirs.

Shit... she's really serious, Harry thought. But he didn't let anyone but Lilith see it. For now.

All questions were put off with 'later'.

The rest of his gifts were a bit more mundane. Another trunk, shrunken, this time containing
a selection- a small selection, according to the dark-haired younger girl- of her clothes and
things from home, which Harry was happy to cart up to the other guest room while she
bathed.

Late that night, after two rounds of love-making (one for each girl present, Harry thought was
quite fair), and the rest of the house was quite asleep according to the Succubus, the three of
them talked, slowly drifting off in the case of the humans.

"Are you going to add her, too, then?" Hermione asked.

"Astoria? I wasn't planning on it," Harry said with a snort.

"And yet..." Lilith grinned into the darkness, amusement evident in her voice.

Harry wiped his face, "Can we drop it? I don't ask for girls to jump at me. Most of the time.
It's not my fault."

"You Contracted, Master," Lilith reminded him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "She's
interested... but emotionally and mentally unready. She thinks you're cute, that's all, and quite
nice so far. You've little to worry about, yet, Hermione. With time... who knows. I can see the
thing, though, the 'blood malediction'. Sense it, really. It's definitely there, eating away at her
on a genetic level. A few years, maybe. She might see... what, thirty years old at the outside?
Without help, anyway."

"But what help is there?" Harry asked.

"Who knows," Hermione asked, "I'm not a Healer. I doubt even Healer Tonks would be able
to tell us anything. St. Mungo's would be the first place they checked. And probably often."

Little more was said as they drifted into dreams.

 Hot Summer Nights
Chapter Summary

OWL results, family fighting, smut... what's not to love about those hot summer nights?

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. You can also check out my Discord at
https://discord.gg/Ky4K5xQx.

Chap. 22: Hot Summer Nights

On August 1st, while Harry and Hermione (sans Lilith, who Sirius had convinced to act as
his 'wingman' to get him some action from the locals in whatever town he lived in) were at
the Burrow, the O.W.L. results arrived. Things had been a bit tense with Mrs. Weasley for a
little while, and Bill had left almost immediately after seeing Harry, with a scowl on his face
(Harry could not blame him), but he and Hermione had spent most of the day in the back
yard, or the orchard, playing Quidditch (even Hermione was briefly coaxed onto a broom
again) two-a-side.

There was no 'funny business', as Mrs. Weasley might have called it, but there was a great
deal of the same as Vernon Dursley would have, as usual.

Dinner was served, as it often was for his birthday, on tables in the back.

Mrs. Weasley had gone all-out, bringing out a massive spherical cake with fluttering golden
wings after the five-course meal. Harry, full of positive feelings for everyone at the table (and
many more besides), could not help but beam around.

To his left sat Hermione and Ron (hand in hand, he saw, beneath the table), and to his right
Ginny, Tonks, Remus, and even Hagrid. Past Ron were the rest of the Weasleys, including the
twins and Charlie.

The only ones Harry would have wanted to be present were understandably absent. His
parents, of course, could not possibly be here physically, Neville was with Hannah, no doubt,
and Arthur was working late, as usual these days, while Lilith was keeping Sirius from
getting into more trouble than he should.
So even though there were a few people missing, Harry still felt quite... connected.

Even loved.

He crashed into full sleep moments after his head hit the pillow in Ron's room, a promise
kept to Mrs. Weasley that- this time- there really wouldn't be any night-time activities of an
illicit sort, happy and content both.

He was up before sunrise, however, before even Mrs. Weasley (who slept less than he did, it
seemed), woken by a nightmare yet again. Nothing solid, concrete, like those Voldemort had
been sending him all the last summer and school-year. Not anything really emotional, either,
nor did he remember it exactly.

Just dark shadows, and an immense feeling of dread.

Perhaps it was the lingering storms and rain all over the country from the out-of-control
Dementors, though Harry had seen quite a lot of sun over the time he'd been out of school, as
if something about his life kept the dark creatures at bay.

Maybe it was Lilith.

Harry was gathering eggs in the hen-house when a sleepy-looking Mrs. Weasley, still in her
house-coat and slippers, trudged in, basket in hand. "Oh, Harry! My goodness, you startled
me! What- what are you doing up so early?"

He shrugged, continuing to put the eggs in the bag he'd brought out for that purpose, and
mumbled, "Nightmare. Nothing specific, not like- like last year. Just one that kept me up."

"Oh, I- I'm sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?"

Even a few weeks ago, Harry's response would have been, "No, I'm fine."

And on the surface, his reply today might have seemed similar, yet was profoundly different.
He paused, thought about it, and shook his head, "No, I'm okay, I think. If I do want to, I'll
know where to go, though."

Mrs. Weasley beamed at him as he started moving past, and pulled him into a long, gentle
hug, "You're a good boy, Harry. I'm glad that- that woman didn't change you too much."

Harry smiled into Mrs. Weasley's hair- he was taller than she was now- and returned the hug,
careful not to jostle the bag of eggs too much. "Nah, if anything, Lilith's made me more of
who I always was."

The next hour was not exactly spent in silence, for Harry and the Weasley Matriarch chatted
amiably about a broad variety of topics, from the Chudley Cannons’ chances this year ("I
love my son, but he's a fool if he really thinks they can win even a game, much less the
cup!"), to his plans for N.E.W.T.-level studies, and what he expected the others would be
doing.
An equally sleepy Hermione came down and started working on coffee without a word, then
rested her head on the table while it brewed. Mrs. Weasley and Harry shared a look of
amusement when she gave a little snore.

When the first of three owls landed on Hermione's head through the now-open top half of the
kitchen door, she sat upright with a shriek, "Get off, you barmy- owl!"

But as Ron called down, clearly half-asleep or more, from the top of the house, "Whazrong,"
Hermione fell very, very quiet and still.

Three owls, one after the other, with three envelopes, were waiting to be relieved of their
burdens.

And on the outside of one, the only one facing up on the table, "Wizarding Examinations
Authority to Mr. Harry J. Potter."

He blinked, and Mrs. Weasley gently guided his unfeeling hand to flip the rasher of bacon
and then took the spatula from him. "Go on, read it."

Harry could not feel his body move, all he could feel was the sudden pounding in his head
and chest. This was it...

The classes that Hermione had been talking about for a year or more. The dreaded results of
the equally dreaded (but not as bad as he'd feared) tests.

Tests that would make or break his chance to be an Auror.

Hermione was holding her letter in her hand when Harry slid into a chair across from her.

Wide-eyed and freshly showered, Ginny sat next to Harry, while a few minutes later, Ron
came down still in his pyjamas to find Harry, like Hermione, idly spinning the envelope in his
hands.

Suddenly, he looked a bit green, and all thought of breakfast fled from Ron Weasley's mind.

Harry knew the feeling.

A minute later, though, the trio shared a look. "On three?"

Hermione and Ron both nodded.

"Okay. One... two... three."

Each scanned their results in silence. Hermione, of course, finished first, but had probably
read her entire list twice or even three times before Harry finished his the first.

"Congratulations," Mrs. Weasley exhaled, looking over Ron's shoulder, "We are definitely
celebrating this- seven! That's more than Fred and George put together!"
"Well done, Potter," Ginny said, using her mother's distraction to press a kiss to Harry's
cheek, smiling widely.

Harry couldn't believe it. Sure, his fears had been somewhat unfounded- the tests really hadn't
been that hard, but- this was...

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass Grades Fail Grades

Outstanding (O) Poor (P)

Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)

Acceptable (A) Troll (T)

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O*

Divination: P

Herbology: E

History of Magic: D

Potions: E

Transfiguration: E

"Here, swap," Ron said, offering his own parchment.

Harry scanned his friend's quickly. He had, indeed, gotten seven passes, and just one O in
Defense. Not that he expected differently, Ron was always the least studious of the three.

"What's this?" Ron asked, pointing at the star next to Harry's Defense score.

"I don't know," Harry asked, looking in the envelope for another paper, but not finding
anything.
"Look on the back, Ronald, it says he got extra credit," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Er,
Hermione... are you alright? How did you do?"

The older witch was quiet for a second, head hanging low over her parchment so her hair hid
the results from casual view. "I... I did alright, I suppose..."

Ron actually laughed out loud, "Come off it- it's you! Twelve, I bet," and snatched the paper
from her hands. "Yep... twelve."

Harry, too, looked them over when Ron passed Hermione's scores his way. Twelve- but
twelve O's, all Outstandings. "Well done, Hermione," he said with a grin, "Knew you had it
in you."

"I..."

"Yay, celebrations all 'round!" Ginny cried out, pumping her fist in the air.

"Couldn't have without the D.A.," Hermione said quietly, "I was really nervous about the
Defense portion."

"But you did it," Harry reminded her quietly, "Now come on, cheer up- breakfast!"

He was happy, truly. But there was one niggling shadow in his mind.

An E in Potions. No more Auror career for him, or Ron for that matter.

Still... he could do something with his life. There were other meaningful things.

Right...?

No one seemed to notice as the rest of the day was spent, for Harry, a little further away from
everyone, out of the hustle and bustle of the Weasley household. He talked a little less,
laughed a little less.

He wasn't upset, truly, and his smile was genuine when it came.

He was just thinking.

What had his parents done?

His father, he now knew, was a Lord, or effectively one, a member of the- what had the
Greengrasses called it...? The Sacred Twenty-Eight? The oldest wizarding families in
Britain?

And wealthy, too, beyond even the staggering amount in his vault, for his family owned a not
inconsiderable amount of property and businesses.

Or more properly, he, Harry, did.

At dinner, though, a little while before he- just him, this time, Hermione would only be
staying one more night- would head back to Sirius' home, more owls arrived.

This time, with booklists, hastily prepared based on the O.W.L. results, by the look of it.

Plans were made for a shopping excursion.

Sirius, now a free man, would walk among them openly for the first time.

Remus and Tonks, too, would provide additional security.

Then more names were added. Neville, who asked if Hannah and Susan and Ernie could
come. Neville's grandmother would bring an additional adult wand and chaperone. Ginny
also invited Luna Lovegood, from 'over those hills there', and Mrs. Weasley was happy to
have the loopy girl who had been Ginny's only female friend for years.

That night, once again, Harry didn't spend with a girl, though Lilith was close enough to
think to him when he asked, "Your godfather's a true player, that's for sure. He's been with
three girls tonight, and is working on a fourth. His technique's a little rusty, but it's working,
at least with my help. We'll probably be back late, sorry."

That was alright, though, Harry honestly was glad for the quiet time, alone. He even started
doing a Hermione-like thing, and making a list.

He was still working at it past midnight, though he was asleep shortly after.

Ginny looked up from her summer homework well after dark the next day when Hermione
gave a quiet little groan and shifted in her seat. Normally, this would not be anything out of
the ordinary, but the youngest Weasley was no longer quite as naive as she once was, and she
could tell that something was up with her best friend. "Hermione... just go shag Ron already
if you're antsy."

There was silence for a few seconds as the girl blushed, not looking up from her own
homework on the other small desk she brought with her every time she visited these days,
then the older girl replied quietly, "I would, but he's asleep. And... as much as I... well, I
enjoy it, it's not him I'm... missing."

Ginny grinned, setting her quill down to turn to face the other girl. "Missing Harry, then?
Can't say I blame you... I could use a good shag, too."

"That's not it," Hermione protested, shaking her head but still pointedly not looking at the
younger witch, "it's... Ron's plenty 'good' as far as sh- sex goes. It's just... the other day when
I was there, something... happened. Something... different. And... well, I can't stop thinking
about it."

Ginny giggled, but fell quiet after Hermione shot her an annoyed look, "Sorry, sorry. So,
something different. I already know you've blown him and Ron both, and you told me you've
shagged both... so what was it? Did the old dog make a pass at you or something?"
"Old- Sirius? No," Hermione chuckled, "though he leers at 'Lilian' a lot. No... well, it was her
in a way."

"Go on... clearly you want to get something off your chest, so out with it."

Hermione huffed, then sighed and set her own quill, which had been motionless for more
than a minute now, down. "It's... well, have you ever... done anything sexual? With a- with
another girl, I mean. I've seen you and Harry, of course."

Ginny was quiet for a few seconds, then her grin returned full-force, "You had sex with
Lilith?"

Hermione nodded once, sheepishly.

"How was it? Did she make you cream? Did you eat her, or she eat you? Which did you like
better? Did-"

"Stop! Stop!" Hermione interrupted with a laugh, holding up both hands and laughing,
though she had turned beet-red, "Stop asking me questions so I can answer!"

At once, the younger girl fell quiet, though she leaned forward eagerly, before gesturing with
her hand as if to say, "Go on, out with it."

Hermione sighed, turned to face Ginny too, then admitted, "Well, the night before Harry's
birthday, she... she asked if I wanted to give Harry an early present. I said yes of course, so
she... had me strip, and tied me to the bed. That was fine, though I'm not really into the whole
bondage... thing. I could've gotten out if I had really wanted to. Then she... she played with
me. With my body, I mean, for... oh, about half an hour before Harry even came in. And it
made me so randy. She kept... touching me, and kissing me everywhere, and doing other
things... but never anywhere too good. Just teases, getting me worked up. Did I mention I was
blindfolded the whole time?

"Anyway, once Harry did come in, she teased me a bit more, then, er, s- sat on me. On my
face."

"Oohh, that sounds fun," Ginny giggled softly, "How did she taste?"

"It..." Hermione flushed, looking away. Ginny seemed entirely too fascinated by this
conversation, in her opinion, but it was too late to back out now, wasn't it? "She tastes... like
bubblegum, I suppose. Like her hair color, it fits I think. A- Anyway, that- that wasn't the first
time. A couple times before that, too, in the heat of the moment with Harry, or- or Ron."

Ginny grinned, but said nothing.

"So... she, uh, also, did it to me. Like, laid down over me after sitting on my f-face, and... that
was the third time there, too. But this time it was... different. I mean, sure, I was really wound
up and wanted to orgasm really badly, and some of it was wanting to give Harry a show, but...
I liked it. More than I thought I would, or... more than just being in the thick of it, you
know?"
"And... what? You're worried you're turning... what's the word the Muggles use... Lesbosian?"

"Close," Hermione said with a chuckle, "Lesbian. Lesbos is the island they were said to be
from, though. But no, not precisely. I mean... I don't find girls attractive that way, but... I'm
worried I like them... a bit too much, like that. Like... I enjoy how they taste, how they feel...
how she can make me feel, but without attraction. Does that make sense?"

Ginny shrugged, looking away for the first time. "Well... can I tell you something else instead
of answering?"

"Of course," Hermione replied, "you know you can ask me anything."

"And it won't make things weird?"

"No, of course not. You're my best female friend."

Ginny nodded slowly, but searched the older girl's face for several seconds before
whispering, "I am attracted to girls, not just blokes. I've... I've never told anyone."

Hermione blinked. "S- so... wait, I've been changing in here. I sleep in my underwear!"

Ginny giggled, "And I've appreciated it, believe me! You're quite beautiful, you know."

"You're terrible," Hermione said with a laugh, scowling too, and used her wand to banish a
pillow in Ginny's direction.

The girl caught it easily, however, and held it to her chest with both arms. "Look, Hermione,
nothing has to be different between us, I wasn't making a pass at you or anything. You've just
always said it's hard to make the correct judgment without all the information, right? Well,
before I answer your first question, I thought you should know that. So yes, I've thought
about being with another girl, but I've never actually done so, no."

This time, silence fell over the room for several minutes before Hermione whispered, "Was
it... me you thought of?"

Ginny nodded, "Several times. Not just you, though. When I first started getting myself off, it
was usually you, but then I started branching out. I've diddled myself a few times thinking of
Lilith, too."

"And... and that doesn't make you... I don't know... ashamed?"

"Why should it? It's me. I'm not ashamed of who I am, Hermione. And if society thinks I
should be, well, society can go fuck itself sideways."

The sudden vulgarity made Hermione blush again even while it sparked off a gale of laughter
from both girls, which quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles that lasted for several minutes.
Then the red-head asked, voice soft as they tried to recover their breath, "I meant it, though, it
doesn't have to be weird. I just thought you should know. But I do understand if it makes you
uncomfortable changing in here."
"N- No," Hermione murmured a quick response, reaching out a hand to take Ginny's into it,
"It's... any damage there is already done, and it seems we have no secrets from each other, not
anymore. Well, mostly. So... what do we do going forward?"

Ginny shrugged, "I won't say no if you decide you want to... play around and experiment a
bit, but I'm not going to force you, of course. Obviously, you can keep being with Harry and
my idiot brother, and I'll keep being with Harry and... once I tell him how I feel, maybe I can
be with Lilith too. Other than that, I'm not too fussed."

"She is a good shag," Hermione admitted, sending both of them into another, longer round of
giggles.

That night, long after Ginny had finally drifted off to sleep, Hermione lay awake in the cot
that sat at the foot of the red-head's bed, thinking. So much had changed for her in the last
four months. Or six, or twelve. Hermione Granger was no longer the naive girl who thought
the adults in the room were the only ones capable of making thoughtful, intelligent decisions.
Or that they had all the answers (or even most of them). She knew, now, and could say with
frank truth that she was almost always the smartest one in the room as far as raw intelligence.
Not always, but quite often. The most studious, almost certainly, and therefore the one with
the broadest and deepest knowledge base from which to draw a thoughtful, rational
conclusion from when faced with a problem. Of course she wasn't perfect, far from it. Harry
almost always did better in the moment, or in high-stress situations. His instinct and quick
thinking had saved them all time and again. Ron was a better long-term, strategic planner,
which was displayed most obviously in his skill with chess. Hermione was the one who was
able to bridge the gap between their own styles and approaches. Together, they were far
stronger than apart. Which was why she had the problem in the first place.

She loved Harry, and wanted to be with him, even if it meant that practically any of-age or
near-Harry's age woman was... available to him. Even her own mother. She loved Ron. A life
with both of them together (and Lilith's continued presence and her conversation with Ginny
just an hour or so ago brought even more exciting new possibilities to the forefront of
Hermione's mind before she pushed them aside to focus on the problem itself)... that life was
tantalizing beyond belief.

I'd die to have it. I'd kill to have it. That's why I couldn't just... say no. It isn't just lust. I know
that Lilith is... changing me. Changing all of us, making us more accepting or whatever it is
that's happening, but I can't... I can't object to it. I like being this way, I like being desired
and wanted, and I like desiring others and wanting them, too.

Besides... it'd be a bit hypocritical of me to judge Harry for sleeping with my mother given
what I've done with Daddy. It was a stupid, idiotic mistake... but I did it anyway. I knew it
was wrong then, in the moment, and I still did it. So why should I- how could I- judge Harry
for doing the same? Especially since I don't think he feels it was a mistake? Maybe he's upset
that he hurt me... but did he, really?

Hermione sighed deeply, slowly, and turned over on the cot. Looking back at that moment
just a couple of weeks earlier, she could not say if she was feeling pain, anger, hurt, or
betrayal as she watched Harry pound her mother's bare bum with his hips, and slide in and
out... It's a good thing she was already pregnant though, she thought with a faint smile. Or
Harry could be my little brother or sister's daddy.

The moment she realized she was smiling, Hermione came to the conclusion that she was
worrying over nothing. She had made the decision, at the time, to accept Harry's abundant
need for sex no matter what for several reasons. Romantic love, friendly love, even familial
love after a fashion, given how important he and Ron both were to her found family. Love of
passion, of sex, of being desired and desiring in return. Even a bit of friendly love with Lilith,
all of the other reasons aside. She didn't want to give them up. No... I can't give them up. I'd...
wither and die. I know that sounds sappy and stupid, and I don't mean it literally, but without
them... I wouldn't be me any more. I'd be some other version of Hermione, sad and
melancholy and stupid. And then I probably would be killed by Death Eaters or something.
So maybe it is literal after all.

All good reasons, as far as she was concerned.

But as the grandfather clock downstairs softly chimed three in the morning and Ginny's
breath continued slowly, uninterrupted, Hermione had come to an even greater realization.
She was not upset that Harry was having sex with her mother, or that Lilith was probably
giving her father the time of his life. She wasn't hurt, or in pain, or even really annoyed. She
was a bit confused in the moment, because the scene had taken her entirely by surprise, but
now, looking back...

I was jealous. Not of Harry... of Mum. I just wanted him to myself. I was being selfish. And of
Lilith too, maybe, because... well... the less I think about that, the better.

It's... better this way, though. I know it is. Harry says I feel like 'home'? Well, he does to me,
too. So does Ron. I'm home with both of them, and I don't ever want to leave it. No matter
what.

Almost three weeks later, on August 20th. There were just ten days left until the term started.
Ginny's birthday had come and gone and, aside from a single eventful hour Harry had spent
alone with her, it had been rather quiet, but the red-head preferred it that way. It was the day
of the now long-planned Diagon Alley trip, where the lot of them and several of their friends
would be purchasing their school supplies.

It was a dreary day, rain-choked and foggy, but Harry did not mind. It was normal for the
whole country to be like this most of the year, and he sort of missed it, the summer had been
so dry for him.

Once again, the Ministry would be providing cars (now that Mr. Weasley was back in its
good graces) for the large group. Six in all, and in the rush to get out of the rain and back into
the vehicles, Harry somehow ended up with Neville, Hannah, and Susan, with Tonks in the
front seat as their chaperone. The Ministry cars took off just a few minutes later, and a glass
barrier went up between the front and back seats, two of which, occupied by Neville and
Hannah, faced backward.

"Er... hi, Harry," Hannah said awkwardly into the silence, not looking at him.
Harry couldn't blame her, nor for the red face. The last time they'd talked, he'd shagged her
rotten, taken her virginity in the loo of the Hogwarts Express.

Neville snickered, and gave Harry a nod along with a smile, "Did you like the present?"

Harry nodded, smiling fondly at the memory of hours spent reading letters between Harry's
parents and Neville's. "Yeah- one of the best I've ever gotten, right up there with the album."

Neville didn't need to ask, he'd looked through it a few times himself, and knew exactly why
Harry was so fond of it. His own parents, too, were in there a few times.

"Sorry I didn't get you something," Harry said after a few minutes, while the Ministry cars
began teleporting in a line and a long series of bangs, from just outside Ottery St. Catchpole
to a nearly-empty street in London. "I was going to, but I got distracted. And I didn't know
about the, uh... traditions."

"It's fine," Neville waved it off, putting his arm around Hannah with a grin, "You did get me
something, remember?"

Susan, who hadn't said a word, turned scarlet to match her hair, and looked out the window
while Hannah giggled, pinking again.

No one said anything for several minutes as the cars maneuvered through the heavy traffic of
downtown London, no doubt heading for the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had no idea how long it
would take to get there, but these cars were outfitted in much the same way as the Knight
Bus, and were doing an admirable job of squeezing through spaces they shouldn't have come
close to, and ignoring all traffic safety laws. Even buildings, on occasion, seemed to leap out
of their way.

It probably wouldn't be long.

"Ask him," Hannah hissed, nudging Susan's leg with her toe.

Not quietly enough that everyone in the car didn't hear, but still a hiss.

Susan shook her head rapidly, plaits flying and almost striking Harry in the face, as she
looked away.

Harry didn't mind, he had known the red-head was shy, very much so. Extremely attractive,
with pale, creamy skin and a smattering of freckles just across her nose, less than Ginny, with
darker red hair that fell in waves when undone to her mid-back, or two and sometimes three
long plaits most of the time, with a cute little nose, slightly upturned, an average hip-to-waist
ratio, and a chest that...

Harry swallowed. Don't think about it, don't think about it...

He estimated Susan Bones, niece of the current Director of Magical Law Enforcement, the
head 'cop' of the wizarding world in the U.K., was about 5'4", and maybe a hundred and
thirty pounds, tops.
Most of that seemed to be in her chest, to his teenaged eyes. She sported what both Hermione
and Lilith had confirmed were very generous double-dees, maybe even real E-cups, and had
to wear a special kind of bra to support them.

Of course, they had the attention of every straight male in the school, which was why he'd
said what he had to Hannah on the train at the beginning of the summer.

Hannah huffed after her best friend didn't say anything for a few more minutes, and assuming
a business-like tone, looked diagonally across the car at Harry. "Susan is being shy, Harry.
But we've talked about this, so I'm going to do the work for her, I suppose. We've talked
about what you did for Neville and me."

Harry, too, turned a little pink. It hadn't been awkward, for him at least, until that moment.

But Neville didn't seem to care, he only smiled benignly across at Harry, saying nothing.

"And you know, she's the last of her line. The Bones line is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight,
and her Aunt refuses to have children. So obviously, since we'd all like the family to
continue, she needs a-"

"A Concubine?"

The other three fell quiet, then Neville laughed out loud.

"No," Hannah giggled, even more amused as, bright red, Susan buried her face in her hands,
either crying or laughing silently herself, "Not quite- she wants to be a Concubine.
Specifically, to you."

Harry blinked.

Daphne was one thing.

But... another?

"I... wait. I mean, I get the idea, I guess, but... why- why me?"

Neville chuckled again, but it was Hannah that kept answering, "Because you're an amazing
shag, that's why. I told her all- all- about it, and she chose you."

Harry looked across at Neville, who was still grinning, "And- why not...?"

"Neville?"

Harry nodded.

Hannah quieted quickly, looking at Susan briefly before answering with a soft, measured
voice again, "She considered him. But Neville said no, said he didn't think he could handle
both of us."
If his friend was offended at the frank discussion or his admission being made public, Neville
didn't show it. Instead, he only nodded, pulling Hannah into his side a bit harder and pressing
a kiss to the top of her cornsilk-blonde hair.

Harry swallowed, then looked over at the girl next to him. She was pointedly looking away,
but he could see her watching him in the reflection in the rain-spattered window. "I... I
already have one Concubine arranged. I have to start hers in seventh year. And... there are,
um..."

"Other lovers," Neville said, not asking.

Harry nodded, "A- quite a few, actually."

"I don't care," Susan said quietly, "I really don't. It's not a competition."

Harry continued watching as the girl looked back at him, eventually turning to face him
directly, still quite red-faced. Eventually, a slim, cool hand left her lap to seek out one of his
and give it a tentative squeeze.

Harry found himself running his thumb over the webbing between her own thumb and
fingers. "Er... when would- when would you want to..."

"This year," Susan said.

Harry gulped.

"To start," Hannah clarified, "She does not want to use potions to increase the chances, wants
everything to be natural. If it doesn't take quickly, then it could be... well, whenever nature
runs its course."

With a nod of relief, Harry said, "Good, that's probably best. Uh... my other C- Concubine
(and how strange it was to say that!) asked... well, she wants me to be the father-figure to our
children, to be in their lives as much as possible, even if legally they are only hers. I... I think
I want that, too."

Susan was quiet, saying nothing. She looked up to Hannah, though, who shrugged, "Sounds
fair to me. You like the bloke, he's not an arse."

Then Susan nodded, "Okay."

"Excellent," Hannah said with a grin, "That's settled. We'll get a contract drawn up by
Neville's Gran or by Aunt Amelia, and we can go from there. Uh... this wouldn't interfere in
your other Contract, would it?"

Harry thought, with the emphasis, that Hannah was referring to Lillith's, at first, but then
realized she meant Daphne's. Not that she knew who the other was with. "Er, no, it
shouldn't."
The street of Diagon Alley was packed, and the group had difficulty staying together in the
rain-slicked streets, but managed it for the most part as they went first to Gringott's, then to
one store after another, threading through other shoppers and even first-year students.

But most people did not have the same happy-go-lucky cheer that Harry was used to. People
hustled from one store to the next, keeping a wary eye out for strangers, or aggression, or...

Only his own group seemed markedly more cheerful, and they drew a lot of attention as they
went, laughing and talking animatedly in one group or another, from store to store.

Until they came upon Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, of course.

Mrs. Weasley was dumbfounded at just how successful her twin sons' shop was. The others,
not so much.

They spent more than an hour in the store, though, having finished the rest of their shopping,
while Harry got 'the grand tour', by first Fred, then George, and finally when another staff
member needed help, a quite cute nineteen year old girl with a short bob-cut of auburn hair
named Verity.

That, to Harry's pleasure, ended in the loo, with her on her knees, sucking him dry.

It hadn't even taken any Fog, she just wanted to, as far as Harry could tell.

He was about to offer to return the favor when she was called back out by another co-worker,
Angelina Johnson.

Harry couldn't complain, though, because really... he had enough women around him that
seemed all too eager to do the same.

When he entered the press of students and family once more, he had a hard time finding Ron,
Ginny, and Hermione, but they returned a little later, his mate stuffing the Invisibility Cloak
back into Harry's own bag and handing it off. "Things to tell you later," Ron said darkly, but
refused to elaborate in the store.

"Things", it turned out, was that they had spotted Draco Malfoy having an argument with his
mother in the street, and splitting off to go into Diagon Alley alone. They'd followed, all the
way into Borgin and Burke's (Ginny had done the sneaking in there while Ron and Hermione
'made out' across the way in an shadowed alcove, and come back with confirmation of
something Harry had suspected for a while.

Draco Malfoy now had a Dark Mark on his arm. He had also been given 'a task' by 'their
master'. One that the aging Borgin could help with, by simply not selling something in his
store, no matter who asked.

What, Ginny was not able to ascertain, but Draco and Borgin were none the wiser that they'd
even been nearby.
He had returned, alone for the time being, to Sirius' house the next day to find it a lot quieter
than it had been.

Remus and Tonks were now back to working for the Order full-time, since there were only
two more days left of the summer holiday, which meant that the only 'adults' were Sirius and
Lilith, and the only 'kids' Harry and Astoria.

Which was why he wasn't surprised to see an owl tapping at his bedroom door on August
30th when he woke up, idly thrusting sideways against Lilith's body, though she seemed
genuinely asleep, or at least insensate.

He rolled over her gently after throwing the covers off, and she didn't move while he, still
nude, went to the second-floor window and let the bird in.

Once the letter was dropped off, it sat on the sill while he checked it for traps and opened it
with his wand. Before reading it, though, Harry shifted Lilith, still feigning deep sleep, so
that she was laying on the bed with her legs hanging down off the edge, and pushed inside
her smoothly.

She whimpered as if surprised in her sleep, and he started moving slowly while he read.

Mr. Potter,

We cordially invite you and those you deem necessary for your protection (we understand you
have no reason to trust us) to the home of our current residence,4643 Bloomington Street,
outside Nottingham. The Floo Address is "Sanctuary One."

A light dinner will be provided, as we request your presence for a fairly lengthy discussion
about the upcoming school year covering a variety of topics.

If you are amenable, please send a reply with the attending owl, Theseus. Our planned
meeting time will be at three in the afternoon this very day, the 30th of the month of Augustus.
We expect our meeting to go no later than seven in the evening.

Thank you for your consideration and assistance with the matters we previously discussed.

Yours in good faith,

Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Hestia Carrow, Flora Carrow,
and Tracey Davis, also on behalf of Corvus Montague and Cassius Warrington.

The girls' names were each penned in their own hand, and if Harry had to guess, the one
who'd done the actual writing was Hestia Carrow.

"What's it say?" Lilith said sleepily, even while bouncing into the mattress with his thrusts.

"Invite from the Slytherins to dinner tonight and this afternoon. They want to talk about
things for the year ahead."
"You should go," she said quietly, starting to actively push back against him, "I'll follow if
you want, but you can take care of yourself."

Harry grunted, not with approaching climax (he could last a little while, even with Lilith
pulsing her insides like she'd started to do now) but with acknowledgement of the statement.
"She did say those I deem necessary for my protection... I should take someone. They'll
expect a 'plus one'.

"Astoria."

"Mm, true... still." He reached out a hand to slid between the Succubus and the bedspread to
fondle the small, perky breasts a bit, and pushed the tip of his thumb into her little, pink anus,
which made Lilith coo and smile.

"Show me your wings and tail," he said after a few seconds.

As they came into full existence, Harry shifted his hand to rest between the wings where they
met at the top of her back, occasionally hooking a finger around one or the other for a better
grip, and rubbed the short, rose-pink tail with his other hand.

Once he reached the bottom, though, with a saucy grin Harry started pushing the tip into her
anus, even while he kept fucking into her other hole.

Lilith's violet eyes rolled upward, "Now you're getting inventive... good, Master... so good..."

Once there were a few inches of tail inside her, Harry started pumping it in and out as well,
both alternating the timing with his own thrusts, and mirroring them.

A few minutes later, the rhythmic pulsing of Lilith's insides lost all semblance of regularity
and became a wild spasming quiver, which pushed Harry, too, over the edge.

"That has given me a few ideas for tonight," Harry said as he dressed, "It'll probably be just
you and me again."

"Looking forward to it, Master," Lilith murmured, standing before a mirror and playing with
several forms, all teenagers, trying to find the perfect one.

Their cover, this year, for her to act more openly was not Lilian Vergot, but to be a transfer
student from the Americas, out of one of the smaller, private schools in MACUSA. Too many
people knew about Ilvermorny, or had friends and contacts there. Someone might check. But
a dozen or so smaller schools dotted the large country, and any of those might be believable.

She had most of the paperwork, too, but still needed an appearance.

The name would be Lyra, something Harry wasn't sure about, but that the Succubus insisted
on. Lyra Sendai, of some vaguely Japanese-American descent.

"Have fun," he said once dressed, pressing a kiss to her cheek and copping a quick feel of
almost ridiculously large breasts- bigger even than Susan's by several inches.
Still nice, though, he concluded as he stepped from the bedroom.

Astoria was reading the newspaper and drinking tea while Sirius whipped up breakfast when
Harry got down there. The girl sent Harry a wink and blew him a kiss, not because she was
serious (he hoped), but because it always, always got a rise out of him.

Just like this time.

He turned pink, and looked away.

Truth told, a part of him could see why Dean Thomas preferred younger girls. There was
something innocent about them, a purity... not like Lilith, who only looked young, and was
anything but pure.

Astoria was certainly attractive, in an almost too-thin, boyish way. She looked a lot like her
beautiful older sister, only with darker brown hair instead of platinum blonde, and a
somewhat angular face, but he couldn't seriously think about having sex with her.

She was really young, and acted younger than she looked.

That she was so good at teasing him about it, though...

Sirius, for his part, was looking happier and healthier than Harry had ever seen him in his
adult life, and, he suspected, more than he was when Harry was a baby, too. For one, he
wasn't under constant threat. The charges being dropped had done wonders, but it was really
going out into Diagon Alley and having people stop, stare, occasionally point, but mostly
leave him the hell alone that had done the most good for the ex-prisoner.

That, and Lilith had finally gotten him 'back in the game' as it were, and he'd had a lady
friend Harry still hadn't met over the last few nights.

That according to Astoria, who'd only seen the woman in passing.

At least it was the same one.

"Lilith," Harry thought as he picked up the parts of the paper Astoria was done with, "Have
you been shagging Sirius...?"

"No. He's hinted, but he hasn't asked. Should I say yes, or no, if he does?"

"Er... no. I mean, I wouldn't care if you already had, but... I'd rather he didn't have that kind
of access. You're for me, not my old-man godfather."

"I agree, Master. Astoria peeked in earlier, saw you dressing. Just so you know. Lucky she
didn't come in a few minutes earlier, she hasn't seen my normal body yet."

Harry's eyes widened, and he chanced a glance at the younger girl, but she didn't seem to be
giving him any more or less attention than normal. "Okay. I'll... think about how to see what
she saw."
"I know what she saw- your big, fat, dick, half-erect after I cleaned it. You had your shirt
half-buttoned and no pants or underwear on. She liked what she saw, but was a bit
embarrassed- has that usual 'there's no way that fits there' kind of thinking, then pushed it
from her mind for now. Don't be too hard on her."

Harry grinned. That actually gave him an idea...

But he'd wait until Sirius wasn't in ear-shot.

No need to add fuel to the fire. His godfather had been surprisingly prank-free since
becoming a free man, but Harry didn't want to start it up. He could hold his own, he felt, but
Sirius had years more experience.

"So what's on the agenda today, Pup? I thought maybe a lie-in, just a lazy day to cap the
summer off, but that's just me."

In response, Harry unfolded and read the letter he'd gotten that morning to the other two,
word-for-word, then handed it to Astoria to re-read, her eyes glistening with tears. Happy
ones, he thought, but she clearly missed her sister.

"Hm. Well... who're you thinking of taking?"

"Just you two," he answered after a minute, "You for 'protection', and 'experience', and
Astoria because... come on, she needs her sister."

The older wizard nodded, folding his arms briefly as he leaned against the counter, "They
won't expect it- in fact, they'll expect her to stay here, as leverage. Keep 'em off balance, if
she goes, but we also lose that bargaining chip if it comes to it."

"I'm not a 'bargaining chip'," Astoria protested, "and you're absolutely right, it's not what
they'd expect, so we should totally do it. Please, Harry?"

"I already said I wanted you to go, Astoria," he laughed, "Relax. Lil-ian said she would rather
stay here- wants me to 'do it on my own'- but she'll go if I want her to. I'm not sure how far
away this is, though. Outside Nottingham, the letter said."

"Not far- a hundred miles or so," Sirius said with a thoughtful expression, "I could Apparate
the three of us there, or back, if we needed to. Unless they have anti-Apparition spells up,
which is always possible. If it's a Bulstrode home, they probably do. The family's really old,
and kind of specializes in home protection."

"Okay, so... I'll send a letter to Ron and Hermione both, telling them that's the plan, and to
check up on me here at say, ten. If I'm not here, they can panic?"

Sirius nodded, "Good thinking."

Astoria, though, rolled her eyes. "You don't know my sister, so it's fine, but trust me- she's not
planning anything like you're thinking. Pansy, maybe. The Carrow sisters, maybe. But if
there's one of that group I wouldn't trust, it's Corvus. He's a snake, a coward, but he knows
how to plan and lie."
Harry nodded, "A year ahead of you, behind me. I don't know him, but..."

Astoria's face wrinkled with distaste, "He grabbed one of my friends, Carrie, by the boob
when she was twelve, then tried to pin it on me. Bastard."

"Language, young lady," Sirius said solemnly, "We don't insult bastards that way. People
don't choose their parentage."

Harry and Astoria both laughed, which was, of course, Sirius' intent.
 Roads Less Traveled
Chapter Summary

An eventful summer draws to a close... but the 'events' are not over just yet.
Forks in the road abound, and sometimes even what seems to be the ultimate railroaded
plot does not quite end up taking the track you would think.

OOPS! I accidentally posted two chapters to Zelda: Princess of the Wild that should have
been FwB! I did post FwB chapters to that story (two of them, 'cause I'm a moron
apparently), but at least I followed THAT story's chapter count, so it wasn't anything
spoilery... it's 10+ chapters behind this one. Just duplicates... /eyeroll
Fixing it... fixing it...

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. You can also check out my Discord at
https://discord.gg/UAJw4CnB

Still one more chapter incoming for birthday!

Chap. 23: Roads Less Travelled

Per Sirius' suggestion, the three- four, once Lilith came down showing off her chosen form at
around ten in the morning- had a lazy day watching telly, and had order-out pizza for lunch.

Astoria, new to the Muggle World's conveniences, took to all of this with amazement,
especially the food.

Which brought Harry to a rather profound question. "Astoria... your family, they've tried to
cure your Blood Malediction? Every means they can think of?"

The girl nodded, having grown quite used to talking about her upcoming death (apparently in
a fairly gruesome way) without it putting her off her lunch, which she continued to chew
happily.

"Have they tried... you know, Muggle methods?"

Sirius stopped chewing.

Astoria shook her head, swallowed, then said, "No- why would they? It's a magical curse."

Harry shared a look with Lilith, "Because, well... magic has non-magical effects sometimes.
A magical fire spell can start a non-magical fire. Magic can remove or alter non-magical
water, or... whatever. Even the water created by the Aguamenti charm isn't magical in nature,
it just appears that way. So..."

"I think what Harry is trying to say, is that it's an avenue worth checking. It costs... well, Lily
always said Muggle healing was expensive, but we've got money. That's not something to
worry about. It's... it's worth a shot. Let me make a few calls before we go."

He finished his slice of pizza quickly, then moved into the living room and started up the
Floo.

Astoria didn't seem to think much of the process, but she'd no doubt been poked and prodded
enough by medical professionals of one stripe or another that a few more didn't bother her.
Nor did she seem to believe, like Harry, that this might just be a much-needed ray of hope. A
waste of time, maybe, but something that seemed to make the others happier, is how he'd
have described her reaction to his thought.

Maybe it was.

But it was still worth looking into.

Harry was dressed smartly in a similar set of robes to what he'd worn to the Yule Ball in his
fourth year but black with dark green trim (no use hiding his Slytherin nature from this lot,
he'd said to Lilith while changing), Astoria in some well-fitting, stylish Muggle casual
clothes like a halter-top and white jeans that accented her fair complexion and dark hair
nicely, and Sirius somewhere between them in semi-formal clothing, a polo shirt and trousers
covered by an open robe that looked almost like a Western-style duster.

If he'd had a six-shooter and a wide-brimmed hat, it would've been almost perfect.

And Lilith... stayed back.

Harry had only poked his head into the Floo briefly to let the Slytherins know they were on
their way for a moment, then allowed first Sirius to go through, with Astoria going after
Harry.

He wanted to see Daphne's face.

Fortunately, this time he barely stumbled on leaving the fireplace into a small, but elegantly
decorated living room. Dark woods and a barely lighter carpet adorned the otherwise light
beige walls, nearly every surface crowded with paintings, only a few of which were portraits.

Spies, he thought, but didn't voice it out loud. The parents knew everything their children did,
he suspected. Anyone with reason to suspect would try and think of ways to get information,
and the moving, semi-sentient portraits were so ubiquitous in the wizarding world...
Dumbledore, of course, used the paintings in Hogwarts constantly.

That was why Harry had absolutely zero paintings in his dorm room, no matter what the
Headmaster or Elves had tried the first few years after he'd figured it out early into his second
year at the school.

Not that Harry didn't trust Dumbledore, but...

Limits, boundaries.

That Millicent's parents had supplied the house meant they'd supplied the paintings, and more
than likely, each of the portraits were more loyal to the parents than the unruly children. It
was something to be aware of, for the evening. Maybe, if he was truly at ease, he'd even raise
it with the others.

"A- Astoria?" Daphne, dressed in a comfortable-seeming but elegant black cocktail dress, her
hair twisted up into a bun with two needles- perhaps wands, it was hard to tell at a distance-
crossed through it, asked. "Is that..."

"Hey, sis," the younger witch said happily, launching herself across the small chamber at her
sister, where they hugged tightly.

Seeming a little awkward but faking composure rather admirably, Millicent, a rather thick-set
girl in Harry's year coughed briefly, then ran through introductions, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black,
may I present Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, Corvus Montague,
Cassius Warrington, and Flora and Hestia Carrow. Hestia is in the green, this evening, for
your consideration. I am Millicent Bulstrode, and you are welcome in my home."

As per tradition, Sirius did an admirable job of bowing to the homely girl's waiting hand and
pressed his lips just lightly to her knuckles, something that Harry tried to duplicate, but didn't
quite pull off as smoothly.

"A pleasure, ladies, sirs," Sirius said with an easy smile, though Harry noticed he did keep a
rather watchful eye on the younger wizard in the room... while occasionally looking over the
older witches.

"Shall we adjourn to the drawing room?" Millicent asked after everyone had been properly
introduced.

There, across the hall of what seemed to be a modest-sized home that was probably crowded
with the teenagers living there without help, the entire group of ladies sat in a half-circle of
chairs and couches on one side of the room, leaving Harry and Sirius on the other. Corvus left
the group before the others had entered the room, citing 'homework to finish', but Warrington,
whom Harry knew from Quidditch if nothing else, leaned with folded arms against the door-
frame across from the low fireplace, and didn't sit.

"Go ahead, Pansy," Millicent said quietly once everyone had been seated except her, and she
began passing out refreshments to the others, small biscuits on a tray and cups of tea from a
rather expensive-looking set.
The somewhat severely-dressed girl, in business-robes of burgundy and silver (fashionable,
Harry thought, but a bit out of place in the dark decor of the home), referred briefly to a roll
of parchment before clearing her throat. "Mr. Potter, we here, the six of us, wish to take this
time to formally renew our earlier promise to-"

Harry held up a hand, "Hold on, hold on. Wait. Sorry, I know this is probably really bad form,
but... can we not do that? Like- can we just be, I don't know... not 'business partners' or
whatever?"

Pansy glared from across the room, and Sirius did most poorly at hiding his smile. Even
Warrington, by the door, had a little smirk, while Astoria grinned widely from next to her
sister on the couch, Daphne between she and Pansy.

"There are ways things are done," the aforementioned girl said haughtily, "and there are ways
they are not. We are members of noble, ancient houses, and-"

Harry coughed, covering his mouth. "Some of you."

"Yes, some of us," Pansy said through clenched teeth, "You and I, and Daphne and Astoria.
That does not mean that our friends are not worthy of social niceties, Potter."

Harry's grin widened- that was exactly the statement he'd been hoping for.

"Exactly," Harry said, looking toward Warrington, "Hey, we've faced each other on the Pitch.
Am I a bad bloke? Do you personally hate my guts because I've won more than I've lost
against you?"

Warrington's smirk widened, and his slightly pockmarked face twisted a bit as he grinned,
"Nah. I wouldn't have agreed to this mad plan if you were. You're alright in my book, so long
as you keep your end of the bargain- or bargains- up."

"And you, Millicent- may I call you Millicent?"

The thick-set girl, who'd just sat with her own cup of tea in hand, blushed a little. She looked
around swiftly at her friends, then shrugged, before answering in her still surprisingly soft
voice, "I'd prefer Millie, actually... Harry."

"Then it's a pleasure, Millie. Astoria, do you have any problem being my friend?"

"Well, there was the time you punched me in the face..."

Daphne suddenly looked furious, and her hand flew to the pocket Harry knew her wand was
normally in, but Astoria had already started laughing, "No, no, you're fine. He didn't hit me,
geez. Harry's nice."

"Miss Davis?"

The smallest female present, Astoria included, was a girl with glasses and mousey brown hair
in a pixie cut, who said with a shrug, "I have no particular issue with you,"
"And- Astoria plug your ears."

Instead, she stuck her tongue out at him, and Harry could have sworn he heard Daphne
whisper, "Good girl," in her ear.

He, though, sighed. This would be a bit awkward to say, but... "And you two," he indicated to
Daphne and Pansy, "I've been... intimate with."

Daphne, who had to at least have suspected since she'd asked him to help Pansy deal with her
depression or whatever it was at the end of the last term, didn't react. Pansy, though, shot
what might have been her closest 'peer' in the Slytherin circles an utterly shocked look.

"So my point is," Harry said before she could start screeching or worse, "We know each
other. We're schoolchildren, still. We could be, or are, something along the lines of friends.
We don't have to be formal to keep our word in whatever agreement we settle on. As friends,
you would think we'd be more trustworthy than just 'partners'."

"Fine," Pansy said, glaring around at the others now, too, "if that's what you all prefer, we can
set the niceties aside and speak plainly. Is that what we would all prefer?"

Most everyone nodded, only Sirius shrugged. He was here for the amusement and to play
bodyguard (more the former, at this point, he was sure), not to offer too many unsolicited
opinions. Besides, he agreed with Harry. There was a time and a place, and he doubted this
was it.

"Then, in that case, Potter, we, the 'lot of us', wish to formally swear to provide information
to your side, outdated as it may be, in exchange for protection from the Dark Lord's side. We
have discussed this already. Have you had time to think it over?"

Harry had, indeed, thought it over. He hadn't talked to Dumbledore about it, though, which
he'd been meaning to do. "Er... I still think it's a great idea."

"Very well," Pansy said, "In that case... well, I suppose we can do any actual swearing later.
We're all agreed that is our course of action, right?"

Every girl in the room, and Warrington, nodded.

Sirius leaned back in the chair, impressed. These kids were brave for Slytherins- very brave,
to go against their families like that. Still... "You should do your 'swearing' now. It might
cause issues later if we forget, for example."

Or if they reneged, but he didn't want to say that out loud. Slytherins... some could be trusted,
but you had to make sure. He'd learned that lesson the hard way, via his family.

"Fine," Pansy said, "I'll go first then, since apparently I'm the leader. I, Pansy Indellise
Parkinson, swear to provide information such as I can, and other supporting help, to Harry
James Potter and his cause against the Dark Lord, in exchange for all the protections he and
his allies can provide for me and my friends. Other help that I may offer, as it comes to light,
may or may not come with additional assurances of aid in like kind. Do you accept, Mr.
Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said, "I'll promise to help protect you in whatever way I can in return for your
information, with the understanding that further help on either side will have some sort of
cost."

"Excellent," Pansy said, and actually seemed to relax a little as she sat back into the couch.

"I," the blonde girl began shortly after, "Daphne Ophelia Greengrass, swear to provide
information such as I can and other supporting help, with no additional strings attached for
future information or help at my discretion, in return for all of the ongoing protection Harry
James Potter and his allies can provide for myself and my sister, Astoria Helena Greengrass,
and the same allies' aid in providing care and seeking to cure the illness my sister carries."

Harry swallowed, but swore to uphold his end all the same. No sense giving them false hope
yet...

"I," the mousy-haired girl said, voice trembling slightly as she looked to Daphne for support
several times while speaking, "Tracey Ann Davis, swear to provide infor- information to
Harry James Potter and his allies, with the goal of bringing down the Dark Lord and those
who share his beliefs. In return, I request all the aid and protection he can p-provide for me
and mine."

"I swear to protect Tracey Ann Davis to the best of my ability, with my allies, in return for
whatever information and aid she can supply."

Millicent's, though, caught Harry by surprise.

She did not offer information, or ask for protection.

"I, Millicent Thera Bulstrode, swear to fight alongside Harry James Potter and his allies, to
provide information to his cause, until either my death or the destruction of the Dark Lord. In
return, I ask only that, in my life or death, Harry James Potter and his allies remember that
not all who live in the darkness are dark themselves."

Sirius shifted in his seat. A Slytherin, actually choosing to fight is one thing, without being
ordered, but against ol' Voldy? Wow. Harry's amazing, if he's got this many followers already.
From the other side of the fence, no less!

"I," Harry began, glancing at his godfather, then back to the heavy girl, "I... swear to fight by
your side, Millicent Thera Bulstrode, to protect you as best I am able, and to remember and
spread the word, in your life or death, that not all who live in darkness are dark themselves. I
furthermore commit to spreading the word to all that will hear it of your bravery, should you
wish me to."

Millicent sat down, blushing, but said nothing more.

"We," Flora and Hestia said at once, together as if it were rehearsed heavily, though he
thought they might have done so only a few times, "swear to provide information and aid
such as we can in a supportive capacity to the cause of Harry James Potter against the Dark
Lord, in return for the protection that he and his allies can offer, before and after the Dark
Lord's inevitable defeat."

Harry full-on gulped this time. Inevitable defeat...? Did they not have any clue how
dangerous that monster was? There was no guarantee their side, his side, would win.

Even Dumbledore would not be able to guarantee victory, not by a long, long cast.

Still, he accepted their oath, returning in kind.

Warrington, too, swore to fight alongside Harry if necessary, but to provide information only
if it wasn't, in return for the same protection, up to and including removing he and his chosen
friends from the country if need be, and protecting them elsewhere.

This, too, Harry agreed to.

Only Astoria swore to nothing, though Corvus was not present at any point to do so. Harry,
by now, had a sneaking suspicion that the boy would be a problem, but had no evidence for it
yet.

Not that he really cared, the other boy might be mean, a true snake, but he doubted very much
he was a real threat. A snoop and snitch, more than anything.

"Now that those 'formalities' are out of the way," Pansy said a little snarkily, "shall we get
onto the other matters?"

"Sure," Harry said, "But... one thing. Is there anything you all want to discuss that is
sensitive? If so, raise your hands."

Every hand, even Astoria's and Sirius, raised.

"Er... we should take this discussion elsewhere, then."

Millicent's eyebrows rose.

"I don't mean to offend," Harry said, holding up a hand, "It's just... portraits. Portraits
provided by your families, who support- openly, in most cases- Voldemort."

Everyone in the room excluding him and Sirius hissed or jumped. In Tracey's case, she
actually yelped and looked over her shoulder.

No one, though, seemed bothered that he'd said it a few seconds later. If anything, they were
impressed. "Erm... I hadn't thought of that," Millicent said quietly, before withdrawing her
wand and shooting several spells around the room. "That should at least keep those portraits
from reporting what they've heard for now. I might have to destroy them."
"They'll suspect anyway," Sirius said, "if the paintings have gone dark. Better than letting
them hear the full details, though."

Millie nodded, standing up and stowing her wand. "Very well, we can move outside, I
suppose, while the light and weather hold."

Out in the back yard, a wide expanse of well-cut green grass, there was a large, round table
sitting on a veranda, with no portraits in sight. Green pastoral fields and hamlets stretched
from the hilltop Millie's house rested on for miles and miles, out past the horizon, and Harry
couldn't help but spend a few minutes admiring the view before he joined the others at the
table.

The Sun would set in about an hour, he suspected, but they could be done by then... maybe. If
not, they could all provide light with their wands, if nothing else, and no one was close
enough to think the lights were anything but torches.

"So," Pansy said quietly, "you shagged Daphne, too."

Harry swallowed, ignoring his godfather's proud smile, Warrington's glee at his displeasure,
and the carefully neutral faces of Millie, Tracey, and Cassius. "Er, yeah. She... well..."

"Apparently," Daphne said haughtily, "I was his first lover- the first of many. He was
certainly my first, if anyone asks, and no, I haven't been with another man."

Some of that's true, Harry thought, and carefully watched the reactions of the others around
the table, not that he hadn't already had several clues. The letter "T" at the beginning of a
name, one that Daphne had hastily changed during one of their heated discussions, at the
forefront of his mind.

Tracey had flinched, too.

So it's her. Cute, I suppose- I can see why Daphne would go for her. But if Tracey, then why
me? We've never exchanged words until the day I was sent to help out Pansy, and then not
until today.

"Is that a problem, Pansy?" Daphne asked, "Are you... jealous, perhaps?"

"Hardly," the olive-skinned girl said with a scoff, "I was merely... unaware that he'd chosen
you at any point. I had been led to believe your predilections lay... elsewhere."

A rather catty look in Tracey's direction confirmed it to Harry.

Warrington, though, raised a hand, "Ladies, really. This is ridiculous. Harry's sex life is not
part of this discussion, is it? Besides, you've been openly talking, at least around the house,
about both of you bedding him in the future anyway. What difference does it make if it's
happened in the past?"

"None," Daphne said at once, "to me, at any rate."

Pansy inhaled sharply, then let it out, before forcing her features into some semblance of
calm. "I... am not bothered," she clearly lied, but continued on, "I was simply not aware of
the information, that is all."

Astoria, though, sky-blue eyes (just like her sister's) wide, looked back and forth between
Daphne and Harry, "Wait- wait- you guys fucked?"

Daphne's eyes slowly closed, and she let out an even slower breath. "We had intercourse, yes.
Once."

Astoria let out a low whistle, "I thought you were gay. Shows what I know."

"I do prefer the company of women," Daphne insisted, then covered her mouth as her face
grew scarlet.

Warrington rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Daphne? We all knew. It's not a secret. Half of
Slytherin, at least, knows. Probably half the school did before last year. We don't care."

Harry joined Sirius in a grin, this time. It really was fun watching people be mortified over
nothing.

"At any rate," Millie said quietly, "this is beyond and outside the point of this evening, as
fascinating as your- any of our- predilections may be. Should we get back on track?"

"I agree," Cassius said quietly, "But since I'd like to get started on dinner, would anyone mind
if I went first? Ladies?"

When none objected, the large young man withdrew a small, shrunken sheaf of papers from
his pockets and expanded it with a tap of his wand. "These are records from my family's
business. They detail, among other things, 'donations to worthy causes', which is code for the
Dark Lord's war coffers. 'Services rendered' is code for scouting, putting people under the
Imperius Curse, or other information gathering. 'Losses from unforeseen risk' in the
accounting is payments for actual combat duty, of which there has already been some. My
brothers, both of them older, and my father have all been out more than once each already on
those. Some money in, most out. It's all the information I have, unfortunately, that's concrete.
I can tell you what I know they were doing later, if you want. I don't know a lot, but I've been
the one keeping the books for a couple years, so... there's a lot in there, and money talks."

Sirius took up the stack, leafing through it quickly, while Warrington stood, gave a bow,
"Ladies, Potter, Black. Dinner should be ready in about an hour."

Once the door had shut behind him, Sirius looked up, "He does the cooking?"

Millicent nodded, "I can, but he's better. The others have never lifted more than an eating
utensil- no offense to any of them. I wouldn't, either, if my mother hadn't insisted I learn.
'You'll have something to draw in a husband besides your great good looks, at any rate'."

The others joined Harry quickly in a scowl. That was just rude.
Besides, Harry thought as he commiserated with the heavy-set girl, she's not ugly, just large.
Not a beautiful woman, but she's not ugly.

In fact, if Harry had to guess, she'd lost about twenty pounds since the end of the year, and
most of it in fat.

"I don't have much right now but a list of names," Tracey offered, holding out a single folded
piece of paper, "Names in the Ministry, mostly, that I got from my parents' work files. They're
in the Transportation Department, and every one of the names on the list is a Death Eater,
most are marked. 'Business trips overseas' is what they talk about, but it's recruiting from the
continent. All of it. I might be able to get another list later, but it's risky. I'd have to go back
home for a while, and... now they know we're..."

She looked, a little scared, at Daphne.

"It's fine," Harry said. He knew they might think they were getting a much better deal than
his 'protection', but until he actually talked to Dumbledore, that protection was just his own
wand, and maybe the D.A. if they answered his call.

Besides, scant information was better than none.

"What I have to offer is locations," Millicent said, "Safe-houses for their side mostly, but a
couple are storage for supplies, money, things like that. Any would be good for your side to
watch, at least. Here's that list."

That, too, joined the stack in Sirius' hands, which was now large enough he couldn't hold it
all, and set all but a few pages on the table, with his hand atop them so the afternoon breeze
wouldn't take a few away.

"My extended family primarily gave financial support," Daphne said, "but I do also have a
combination of accounting and names, as well as a few locations. My father is in the
transport business, officially. Unofficially..."

"A smuggler," Sirius said.

Daphne nodded. Astoria's eyes widened again, "Really? Huh. Dad's cool, I guess."

Apparently, breaking the law was 'in' for thirteen-year-olds.

"We don't have a list," Flora said after Astoria had interjected, "But we can make one as
needed. What we have is... well, for lack of a better way to say it, weaknesses. Both of us
have a lot of information about people's vices, what we can use to manipulate, control, or
take people out of the picture with. Who's sleeping with whom and how often, addictions,
things like that."

Harry and Sirius both whistled. Underhanded, maybe, but that information would absolutely
be of use. "That's... great," Harry said.

"Give us a name, and we'll make up a dossier on that person," Hestia told them, "Even people
on your side. That's what Aunt Alecto did, and she taught both of us. We even started
gathering some of the information ourselves before we... left. It's all up here."

Both twins, together, tapped their temples, one on each side, mirroring the other's motion.

It was creepy, almost.

Pansy took in a deep breath, and admitted, "Sadly, my information will probably be of the
least use, as it's the most easily changed. I know a fair bit about what the Dark Lord has been
planning, both in and out of Hogwarts. I'll... should I tell you, or...?"

Harry swallowed, "Erm... I'd prefer if you got the information to Dumbledore. I'll try and talk
to him soon so he knows to expect it. If he doesn't, er, take it well?"

"Trust me, you mean?"

"Er, yeah. If he doesn't seem to trust you, or even if you want to do it anyway, tell him... tell
him the warm socks told you. I know, it sounds mad, but he'll get it."

"The... warm socks," Pansy asked, clearly skeptical.

Harry nodded, "Trust me. Warm socks. He'll know it's coming with my approval if you do."

"Well, I guess we know what to get Harry for Yule then," Daphne muttered.

He didn't have the will to tell her it wasn't him that wanted them, mostly because it would
reveal too much if he did.

"Well, that's us, then," Hestia said, and both she and Flora rose and headed inside, one to help
with dinner, the other to 'freshen up'.

Which left Sirius, Harry, Astoria and Daphne, Tracey, and Pansy sitting at the table still.

Apparently, it was time to discuss weightier matters, as evidenced by Daphne turning to her
sister, "Go help with dinner."

"No, I'm staying with you," Astoria protested at once, "I just got to see you again."

Daphne, though, was not deterred. "Astoria- now. This is not something for your ears, or your
years. We'll talk later, but for now, I need you to go inside."

"Fine," the younger girl said with a huff, getting up and stalking through the door after her
sister's friends, "Maybe I'll just go back with Harry, then."

Daphne didn't rise to the bait, though Harry was a bit worried about it himself. He liked
having Astoria around, but she was... needy for attention he couldn't provide much of, and it
was sort of cramping his... activities.

The door slammed shut, and Daphne exhaled slowly, then closed her eyes. Without opening
them, she began speaking, "I believe that Potter's affairs are his affairs, so to speak, but I also
think that we might need to clear the air. Shall we, collectively, agree to full disclosure, as we
each have information that the others may need to make an informed decision going
forward?"

"I agree," Pansy said at once, shooting another dark look at both Harry and Daphne.

"I, too, agree," Tracey said quietly, though she had no stake in the matter as yet, as far as
Harry could tell.

"Fine," he agreed too, knowing that the truth would probably have come out this year,
anyway, and that at least one of them had to suspect something was up. "I'll agree to full
disclosure- as it relates to matters between any or all of the people sitting here now, excluding
Sirius."

After another chorus of "I agree," Daphne told them all, in brief, how she'd fallen asleep
studying in the Library at Hogwarts,.then woken up extremely aroused. How Harry had
appeared before her, and they had, in her own words, 'fucked'. By the end of the little tale, the
girl was clearly embarrassed. Still, Daphne sent a measuring, almost calculating look around
the lot of them as the sun began to grow low in the sky, as if daring them to react, to deride
her feelings, to cheapen their relationship in some way.

"I haven't been with anyone- well, outside of Tracey- since, and I haven't any intention to do
so. For me, that was the night everything changed, and things, doors, possibilities, opened up
that I had not seen before. It is why I am here, why Astoria is here, though of course at the
time I was mortified at what I'd done."

Pansy snorted, "I can do you one better. This was... on the night that Montague got hexed by
Cass and Millie, and Draco and I fell apart. We... well, you know what we'd planned. A bit of
stress-relief before the exams, on the Astronomy Tower."

Daphne and Tracey both nodded.

"Well, there's more we- I- didn't tell you. Before you say anything about it, Millie's told me
she doesn't mind if I tell you, because it's relevant, so don't think I'm betraying her trust. Once
we got up there, we... it happened very quickly. We'd all planned a bit of fun, the lot of us.
Me and Draco in one corner, Millie and Cass in the other, you know, that sort of thing. Only...
something came over us. An enchantment, maybe. We... went too far, too fast. Before any of
us knew what was happening, I was trying to openly seduce Draco, right in front of everyone.
Millie was... she was taking on, with Bentley, you know, the seventh-year prefect last year,
Vincent, Greg, Cass, and Montague. She..."

Pansy sighed, and for a moment, Harry felt terrible shame at what he'd done. Millicent
seemed like she was actually a fairly nice person, yet... that night on the tower, he hadn't
taken any of their feelings into consideration. It was all about what he wanted, what he
wanted to get and to do to them.

Selfish.

"She doesn't regret it, precisely, she's told me. It was fun, I suppose, a big thing but she
enjoyed it. But it's caused some strain with her and Cassius, becuase he's always wondering if
she preferred the boys her own age, or... you know how it can be."

Harry did not, but he could imagine, at least.

"Anyway, they're still together, and both families- so far- approve of it, but if they find out
we've broken away before they wed, and they will, it'll be hell on both of them. I'm not sure
their relationship can take it. But that night... something else happened, too."

"What?" Daphne asked quietly.

Pansy looked, in answer, across the table at Harry, "Him."

Tracey looked confused, but Daphne had apparently put more together than he expected,
"The source of the... arousal, was Harry?"

"I'm not sure," Pansy replied, not drawing a wand, though Sirius moved his hand slowly to
cover his own in his pocket, "but it's suspicious, don't you think? You're very aroused,
strangely so, and he reveals himself to you in your time of need. A couple weeks later, or
whatever it was, I'm very aroused, and frustrated because Draco can't perform when it
matters... and there's Potter."

It did, indeed, sound very suspicious when put like that, but he said nothing, only swallowed
heavily past the new lump in his throat. Maybe his heart, or liver, or something.

"And I'll admit, it felt good, what Potter did. I didn't know it was him, at first, not until the
very end. His hands and tongue are talented, and he's... got a nice wand."

Sirius sent Harry a wink and a smile, but otherwise kept his eyes on the girls, who were now
all eyeing Harry carefully. He, too, was suddenly aware that his back was to the modest
home, and any window or other secret wand-slit could be open and he'd never know.

"In fact, it was good enough that I had no fewer than eight orgasms that night with Potter.
But... in the end, when he finally finished, he turned me around and did it in my mouth, and I
saw who it was.

"I... was mortified. Horrified. Worse, that Draco had been watching, silenced, paralyzed, and
bound, the whole time I'd been in rapture. Then Potter did the worst thing he could have... far
worse than mounting me, pleasing me without my permission, or anything else."

"What did he do?" Tracey asked quietly, face pale.

"He talked to me, like a human being. Not a girl he hated, or... or an object for his pleasure.
He even gave me good advice," Pansy sniffled, wiping her eyes. "And I kind of hate him for
it, but... he was right. And it changed everything. Changed me. When... when you were all
worried I was losing my mind? I did. Sort of, anyway. I... had to re-evaluate everything about
who I was, and who I wanted to be. And you all, good friends that you are, went for help
when you saw me struggling. You sent him again... and the bastard sneaks into my dorm, my
shower with me. Gods... he fell asleep there, we both did, on my bed after a couple more
rounds. And we talked, and I like him. I can't believe I do, but he's very nice, and... and I
want what you want, Daphne, only I don't need... don't need someone to carry on a name. I
want to be valued like an actual person, not just a breed-mare or trophy wife."

No one said anything for a long time, not even Sirius.

Harry, eventually, after searching his own soul for what he wanted to say, offered, "I can't tell
you all how remorseful I am for how selfishly I acted that night on the Tower. There are no
words in this language or any other I've heard of to say it properly. I was selfish, and cruel,
and heartless. I thought only of myself, of what I could get out of it, of how it would hurt the
lot of you, punish you for not liking my friends, for thinking differently than me.

"Only... I realized, after talking to you, Daphne, and you, Pansy, that you don't think all that
differently, and you didn't even back then. Sure, some things are different, but in the end... we
all want more or less the same things in life. And I ruined- or at least I took a good attempt
at- ruining all your lives. Before that, yours, Daphne. I'm sorry if it hurt any of you, in the
past, now, or in the future. I'm sorry it caused a rift between you and your families. I... there's
nothing more I can say, but I want to say so much."

"You don't need to apologize," Pansy said, "At least not to me. I don't- I don't regret it. I did,
but I don't now."

"Nor I," Daphne said firmly.

"How can you not?" Harry half-sobbed.

"Because," Tracey spoke up for her own lover, "They are the people they are, right now,
because of it, Potter. I- I didn't know you, I still don't, but I can see you feel bad. I can see
they don't, except that you hurt because of it. They care that you hurt, not that they were hurt.
They healed. Have you?"

"I didn't come here for forgiveness," Harry choked.

"Didn't you?" Daphne asked, "Didn't you, really? Absolution, at least? Making a deal with
me to make up for that night in the Library? Making peace with Pansy, offering her help in
changing her very life and core values, to make up for that night on the Tower?"

Harry had no answer.

Or rather, he did, and didn't like it.

She was right.

That was why he was here, at least most of it. Why he'd accepted the risk, if nothing else. He
deserved to be hurt, punished, for what he'd done. Didn't he?

"Fortunately," Daphne continued, "We feel that we need no apologies from you. We made the
offer of a deal- each of us in our own way- for our own reasons, not because of you or your
reasons. That the offers and deals are mutually beneficial is nice, and I hope they do help you
feel better about things, for what it's worth. But here's the thing, Potter. I don't care if you're
happy or not, not really. I mean, you do seem like an okay guy. If I was interested in men,
you might be the one. Part of what I said in the Library was accurate even without... whatever
you did. But I got together with Pansy and Millie, and then the others, to get what I wanted.

"Astoria's health, if you can achieve it by some miracle. Protection for me and my sister,
because neither of us support that madman. A father to my future children, and maybe
Tracey's, if she decides she wants that. That's it. If you can do those things, then we're fine,
you and I. If you continue to abuse my trust, that might change, but I consider us quite
square. If anything, I'm in your debt right now."

"I don't see how," Harry said quietly, wiping his own eyes.

"Because," Daphne admitted again, "I did rather enjoy the Library. I expect, as that was your
first real experience, I will enjoy future encounters more. Even if that's all it was, I wouldn't
regret it. Few girls can say their first time was as pleasurable, despite the company here."

Pansy nodded, "Mine wasn't, as you know, Potter. Yours was... better. A lot better."

Daphne quirked a blonde eyebrow at her friend, but didn't ask, nor did Harry have any
intention of betraying Pansy's trust about her cousin. If she wanted her friend to know, she'd
tell her, and that was it.

"So... so let me get this straight," Sirius said after a few more minutes of quiet, "You, Miss
Greengrass, have already made a verbal agreement- and have had your parents send a
physical contract for the two of you to sign- for a formal Concubineship, providing anywhere
between one and three male heirs, plus any females... and you'll both be the parents publicly,
though only you will retain legal rights as such?"

Daphne nodded, "That's the plan, in essence, as far as we personally are concerned. The other
matters- Astoria, our protection- are unrelated."

"And you, Miss... Davis, was it? You want... the same thing, but only tentatively? Basically,
you want Harry to verbally agree that- if you decide you want to go through with it- he'll
'provide'?"

Tracey nodded, saying nothing.

"And Miss Parkinson... you want to be a long-term lover, or... whatever. A spouse, maybe,
but not a Concubine, because you don't need to carry on the line?"

Pansy nodded, "I don't need anything formal, I just... I'm starting to like him, as infuriating as
he can be, and..."

"And you like him in bed."

She nodded, flushing a bit darker thanks to Sirius' blunt statement.

"Well... more power to you, I guess, Harry," his godfather said, "But you may as well tell
them the rest. Come clean about it all, before anyone says anything."
Harry took a deep breath, looked at each of them and made sure his wand was clear, then
started talking.

He didn't give any of the worst details, but he did try to describe how he felt in each moment
of the tale, so they would understand why he'd made the choices he had. Terrible as some
might be, he hoped at least for some understanding. All the way up through the Ministry and
the kidnapping, the battle to rescue him, skipping only over hearing the prophecy in
Dumbledore's office. He even gave them the highlights of the summer, how he'd-
unintentionally, for the most part- destroyed his relatives' lives, Bill and Fleur's relationship,
and everything else, up to the current day.

Foremost, however, and what got the biggest reaction, was when he'd first mentioned the
ritual, and summoning Lilith.

All three girls had hissed, two of them clutching their throats briefly in fear.

Only... there was not a hint of betrayal.

They'd known, clearly, that something was amiss. Now that they knew what, it seemed as if
pieces were falling into place in both Daphne's and Pansy's minds, and things were making
much more sense.

Dinner, a three-course turkey, stuffing, and potatoes thing reminiscent of an American

Thanksgiving meal came and went, and conversation over that was light, happy.

But when the others were gone again, off to bed or to read or whatever, the same group was
gathered around the fireplace in the sitting room once more, this time with Astoria present,
curled into Daphne's lap, despite being nearly as tall as her older sister.

The hour was nearing seven, and Harry was starting to itch to get back to Sirius' place, but
there were still discussions to be had.

"Daphne," he offered, "About Astoria- we discussed something earlier today that gave me an
idea, and I don't think she's mentioned it. There is hope, though it's probably slim. We- Sirius,
really- has offered to take her to a... you might call it an alternative Healer."

"He means a Muggle doctor," Astoria volunteered.

Pansy frowned, but said nothing. Daphne, though, seemed surprised, "They've never
considered it? I... I thought they had. I had the idea years ago! Grr... infuriating, both of them.
Alright, Astoria, you're going. Mr. Black, thank you for taking her. I'd... I'd like to accompany
you, if I might."

Sirius nodded, "That's fine, I'll need to set up a time and place yet, so I'll have to pick you up
from Hogwarts. I'm sure Dumbledore won't mind."

Daphne, who had seemed somewhat torn after the revelations about Lilith, suddenly
swallowed what might have been pride, or at least doubts, and said, "Alright, Potter- the
deal's on, as discussed. I... if you're willing to do that much for Astoria, there's no reason for
me to doubt your word. I'm in."

He nodded.

"Me- me too," Pansy said quietly, looking to her friend and the little sister. "I... Nevermind."

"My position remains unchanged," Tracey murmured, "In fact, it seems more likely now
rather than less, that I will want... some sort of interaction in the future, now that I know you
are a skilled lover, and attentive to your partner's needs."

Harry, despite the many topics that could have embarrassed him covered since lunch, turned
the darkest scarlet he'd been yet. That day, at least.

"All right, we're off for home, I suppose," Sirius said, stretching with a yawn, then turned
toward the door, where Millicent stood patiently, "Miss Bulstrode, thank you and yours for
the hospitality. I must admit I was a bit worried, but you've been a most gracious hostess."

Millicent bowed with a gentle smile, "It's my pleasure, Mr. Black, Harry. I can't promise 'any
time', but I wouldn't mind having either or both of you back at some point."

Harry, took gave her a little bow, "Thank you for inviting us, Millie. I'll be happy to tell
Hermione how wrong about you- all of you- she is, but you in particular."

"Please do," Millicent said with a soft, high giggle.

Then, in a flash of green flames, they were gone.

"Did you miss me, Pet?" Harry asked as he locked the door behind him, throwing up a quick
silencing charm while he was at it. Sirius might have been the only one in the house besides
them, but better safe than sorry.

"Yes, Master," Lilith said from her precarious-looking position.

Somehow, while he'd been gone, the creature had strung herself up so that she literally hung
off silk ropes, the same Hermione had been tied with a few days ago, from the ceiling by the
arms and legs, inclined forward at around his waist level. She was completely nude, of
course, child-like as usual, but not quite in a child's body, her hair long and a little darker
pink than normal, with wings and tail visible and present, along with the tiny dark pink horns.

But as arousing as the position was, Harry had to ask: "How did you manage that?"

"I flew, Master," Lilith said quietly, "tied each off while hovering, then lowered down. Easy."

"Ah, so you could get out if you wanted."

She nodded.
He could think of a dozen other ways she could do so- shrinking down came to mind quickly-
but that she'd stayed... "How long have you been up there?"

The little body trembled, as she glanced at the clock on his nightstand, "About... f- five hours,
Master."

Slowly, as he undressed down to his boxers, Harry walked around the lithe form, enjoying
how hanging from outstretched arms pushed her little shoulderblades together between the
wings, forcing them to remain behind her while her weight rested there, and how her legs
were bent back at the knees to support the rest of her, the ropes around her ankles.

But once he reached the back, he stopped and stared.

The purple dildo was back, sliding on its own in and out of the literally sopping wet pussy,
occasionally stopping and starting again, or twisting around, and even on occasion as he
watched, mesmerized, vibrating for a few seconds. Harry smiled, "Hermione's work?"

Lilith nodded, groaning as it started moving faster briefly, then slowed down again.

"Nice touch... I take it you haven't actually had an orgasm the whole time?"

The Succubus shook hr head, "No, Master... close... several times, but no. Maybe needed a
towel or three beneath- beneath me."

Indeed, there was a rather wide wet spot on the carpet.

Slowly, Harry ran a fingertip up the inside of Lilith's left leg, gathering up a little of her juices
and savoring them with first his nose then tongue, before resuming his walk. Once he reached
her left side, closest to the bed, he flicked out a finger across the nearest nipple, and she
squirmed in the air. "Was that fun?"

Lilith said nothing, so he did it again, harder, "I asked, was that fun?"

"Y- Yes, Master, it felt good," she whispered.

"Hm."

At her front, he flicked both, then gave each a squeeze at the same time, before yanking down
hard enough he lost his grip. She squealed, but did not protest.

In fact, a few drops of liquid hit the floor in quick succession.

He began lightly running his hands over her body, from fingertip- each finger individually- to
her toes, getting each of those too, one by one, first the back, then the front, ignoring how his
cock ached to fill the girl's mouth or replace the dildo, which still moved back and forth every
few seconds.

"Bigger tits," he instructed, "Say... like Hermione's."

Slowly, he watched as they grew and grew, from barely an A-cup to full C's, heavy and
sagging downward in the position Lilith hung in, head forward, enjoying how the additional
weight in the front made her back arch even more. He bent in for a kiss, sensual and deep, but
pulled away with her lower lip between his for a second after less than a minute. "Ah, ah,
Pet... my pleasure tonight, I've been pent up.

With deliberate movements, Harry pushed his member between the full breasts, holding them
together with both hands while he arched his hips in for a full three seconds, then out for
another three, and back, forth, a few more times.

He'd done this a little with her before, but like this it was even more fun. The control, and her
lack thereof. Using her.

Like he had the other girls, before.

Lilith liked to be used, he knew, at least on occasion. She was always a willing partner, but
she also enjoyed, in a way that most human girls would not, the act of being, well, an object
that existed solely for his pleasure.

And pleasure he took, at least some, from using her that way.

But he didn't finish there, although the control was bringing him near the edge quickly.

Instead, Harry backed away and resumed running his palms and fingertips over her body
lightly, watching how she swayed, moving both into and away from his touch as he reached
more or less sensitive areas.

The breasts, he decided as he moved to the side once more, were almost too large on the
small frame, but for the time being, it was sexy as hell. "Keep the form," he then instructed
after debating with himself for a bit, "But grow your cock. All of it, the way it should be on
your full-sized, real self."

Lilith groaned, but obeyed, the member, throbbing and pulsing with her heartbeat (she did
have an actual body and metabolism, he knew, or at least a very close proximity to one,
because she always had a heartbeat, and needed to breathe), hanging from its own weight
down, lower than any part of her body, some two feet in length. Ribbed, even with soft-
looking spines, along the entire length on every side, and a thick, dark head.

"Damn," Harry gasped, "That's... that's too big, for now. Like it was with Hermione, then."

A moment later, it was still about ten inches long, but Harry felt it matched a little better.

"Do you want me to touch it?" he asked quietly.

"M- Master... please..."

He was a little nervous, it was a lot like- like stroking another man, but... this was Lilith, still,
his Pet. So with a bit of steel in his resolve, Harry reached out a hand and gave the member a
nervous prod.
It was hard, but also silky, like his, like Lilith's skin usually was. Rigid, but still pliable. Hot,
pulsating. Slowly then, he wrapped a hand around it just below the head. His fingers barely
touched.

"Does that feel good, Pet?"

She nodded weakly, trying to strain into him, but the angle of the ropes gave her no leverage.

He gave it an experimental tug, his grip strong, to find that it moved like his own penis- if his
grip was firm, it pulled the skin. If the grip was lighter, his hand slid along the length.

Lilith groaned as he stroked a few more times, but that wasn't really what he was going for.
"Undo the ropes. On your own."

Straining, wincing with discomfort, to pick herself up enough for her wings to be able to fly
again, Lilith lifted herself up about two feet and flexed her wings a few times to restore
circulation, before they blurred into motion, almost vanishing from view as she hovered, and
quickly began loosening first the knots on her wrists, then bent to get the ankles.

Fortuitously, Harry was behind her when she did, and with a quick snatch, he pulled the dildo
free and lifted it to his mouth, licking it twice to taste of the tangy-bubblegum flavor, before
tossing it to the side.

Okay, that wasn't so bad. Maybe- maybe I can do more for her- later.

It was still a bit weird having a phallus so close to his mouth, though.

Harry watched the gaping twat continue to run with juices while she worked, whimpering
now and desperate with need.

Harry, though, was having none of it, merely watched the dark hole quiver until she was free,
the ropes now hanging freely from the ceiling. "N- Now what, Master?"

"Sit on the head of the bed. Lean back into the pillows, and put your knees up."

The little creature, just over four feet tall, hastened to obey, rubbing her wrists a little as she
did so. Still, Harry watched, entranced, as the heavy breasts jiggled and swung, and the thick
dick slapped against them a few times as she settled, before rising almost completely
vertically into the air between Lilith's knees.

Harry then stripped his boxers free and climbed onto the bed himself, swallowing twice to try
and clear the lump of nerves in his throat, again. But he didn't touch her, aside from putting
his feet, stretched out, against hers while he leaned back against the footboard and put a hand
on his own erection, stroking lightly. "Touch it," he said, "I want to see you do it."

Lilith did not hesitate, using both hands to stroke, twist, and pump herself, even putting it
back between her breasts, the head just disappearing completely below the top of them as her
back arched a bit the other way, making her normally taut stomach fold twice and presenting
Harry with a view of the base of the slightly pink dick, and the swollen, still oozing folds of
her mons and labia, the vagina itself still gaping open more than an inch despite nothing
having been in it for about a minute. "L- Like this, Master?"

"Yeah," he murmured, "Make yourself feel good, Pet. Use your tits, too, like I was earlier."

She gave the length a few more obedient strokes, hands not even close to closing over it,
before angling it down and pushing it between the large globes, then humping it up into
herself. She was almost there...

"Make it a little bigger, Pet. Maybe... five inches longer."

Violet eyes flashed up at him as a knowing grin began to spread over Lilith's face. A grin that
was quickly hidden by the head of her own cock, which she leaned forward to accept in her
mouth.

"Gods," Harry muttered, stroking faster, "Keep going, Pet... Suck your own dick."

"With pleasure, Master..."

The Succubus didn't hesitate after that, her eyes rolling back into her head a little as the head
and another two inches of the long shaft passed her lips. Thick as it was, with her small frame
otherwise, it forced open the little mouth almost comically. Lilith kept humping up into her
mouth and between her breasts with her hips, though, varying her speed and force, even how
far she moved in, every few thrusts, while one hand did its best to lay flat against the lower
end of the rod to give it a bit more illusion of depth, while the other went down to the very
bottom, flicking and rubbing across the tiny clit.

Harry stroked himself to completion a few seconds after Lilith started exploding into her own
mouth, great swaths and dollops leaking out, some even dribbling out her nose as the violet
eyes rolled back in her head, but the hips never stopped moving, even while he watched each
and every wave of her white cum, more pure white than his even, bulge up her urethra and
into the waiting hole. A fair bit, too, dribbled down onto her round breasts, even running
down her body to the sheets in a few rivulets, while Harry's own seed spurted mostly upward
and back down, coating his hands, genitals, and dark pubic hair.

But neither of them were done.

After she'd swallowed down most of it, Lilith let the head of her cock pop out and it shrunk
down again, still erect, to something more appropriate for her body's size, and, watching
Harry's reaction, lifted one tit to lick the cream off herself.

When she was done with that teat, just a few seconds later, she hefted the other abundant
globe, "Master? Do you want to taste it?"

Harry's stomach, despite his obvious arousal, recoiled. "Er... not- not really."

"Trust me, Master..."

It wouldn't be the first time, he thought to himself, Hannah... twice. And this is Lilith.
So, with a bit of reluctance, he forced thoughts of his own sticky mess out of his mind and
crawled up the bed to his pet, who continued holding up the mammary. Harry gave it a
tentative sniff, then stuck out his tongue. Not enough to really taste anything, just to get a hint
of the texture.

Her skin, as always, was smooth and soft, tasting like nothing but his own skin and flesh, but
with the faintest hint of strawberry bubblegum. The seminal fluid, though, when he worked
up the nerve to take a solid dollop of it onto his tongue, was...

Not what he expected.

With a sticky smack of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Harry asked, "C- Cloves?"

Lilith grinned, nodding, "I love my own flavor- I used to suck myself every day at home.
Haven't done it since I got here, though."

"Your pussy tastes like bubblegum. Why's this different?"

Lilith grinned, scooping up more of the good and bringing it to her mouth with both hands,
"Different body parts, of course. Different fluids. Our blood, I'm told, tastes like pure
cinnamon or maybe even sulfur to humans, depending on whether we're healthy or not. I'm...
guessing I'd be cinnamon."

Harry had to ask, "What- what keeps you healthy?"

"Master's jizz does," Lilith whispered, then, despite his mess having cooled enough that he
thought it must have been disgusting, dove beneath his legs and spun around to lick him
clean from below.

He, of course, responded with a long groan as the now ten-inch tongue covered every bit of
him, the Succubus' small hands working his shaft gently as she used them to further coax his
sticky leavings down into her mouth.

The remnants on her skin, though, were not being disappearing as he might have expected.
"Er... I take it you can't just... absorb your own?"

"Nnm," she murmured, mouth full with one of his testicles, tongue lashing across the bottom.
She let it out to finish answering, "It's part of us, not part of you, in the same way yours is
part of you. If you came from our world, it wouldn't help us, so it's not something we can
absorb."

Before he could ask another question, his other ball was in her mouth instead. Harry was
distracted from the train of thought by not only her pleasure, though, but the tantalizing sight
of the remnants of her cum on her flat belly, and the five-inch penis sitting there just reaching
below her navel, pointing almost at his chin.

The goop, he scooped up, ignoring how much like his own the texture was, and pushed it
down her body, leaving a trail of slime, between her legs, and then started using both fingers
to stuff it into her still-open vagina. "You can't get yourself pregnant, right?"
She released his scrotum again, "Not easily, no. Remember, we can't really... breed like you
can. We have intercourse as part of our reproduction, but just filling my twat with my cum
won't do it. Feels nice, though... and kinky."

Harry grinned as her hands continued to stroke his length, a little faster now, her mouth
resuming its work on the rest of his lower regions, even the sensitive spot behind his scrotum.
He, though, had one more daring thing to try.

Just one.

He wrapped two fingers around the base of Lilith's little dick, and put the tip into his mouth.

She groaned, stopping her ministrations for just a moment, but didn't say anything while he
held her there, motionless, with his lips around her little head.

Slowly, trying to force himself to give it a fair shake, Harry twisted his own head a bit, then
moved down.

Further.

It was almost like... food. A hot dog, really, he decided, which made him want to chew. That
would hurt, though, so he refrained.

Instead, he pulled back out, trying hard to maintain suction, as she'd done from her very first
one, before he'd even lost his virginity to Daphne.

Just as the tip popped out, Lilith moaned again. "D- Damn, Master... I didn't think you'd try
that for months, if- if ever."

"Gryffindors charge forward," he muttered, looking at- at the dick he'd just had in his mouth.

Did it...?

"You aren't gay," Lilith giggled before the thought even finished, "You are just... more open
than most to the differences in gender between man, woman, and... other. Technically, all
Succubi are 'other' to humans. But some human females have cocks, too. Most aren't as
awesome as mine, though."

Harry laughed, "Har, har. Humble, much?"

"Don't worry, Master," she murmured, shifting so her tongue could circle his own shaft again,
"I like your cock, too. But you don't need to feel pressure to do anything you don't want to.
I'm here for your pleasure, not you for mine."

Harry nodded.

She had clearly enjoyed it, and while the idea of it still revolted him, it wasn't as bad as...
well, he'd imagined. He'd never do the same to a bloke, he decided, but Lilith was his. So
what if she had a dick sometimes? She didn't have to, it didn't make her a male. She was just
a female with a third leg on occasion.
And he liked being able to please his girls.

That was the biggest reason his self-esteem had taken such a huge jump in the last months of
the previous term, and more over the summer that was just ending.

"Forward," he murmured again, then took her dick into his mouth again.

As she'd shown him by performing the same act on him many times, Harry brought the tip to
just where he started to gag, then back, keeping his lips sealed and creating as much suction
as he could. There wasn't much need for his hands to hold the lower part- he could get three
of the five inches or so in his mouth easily enough- but two fingers around the base helped
him control her angle, and keep him from going to far. The other hand, he used to put two
fingers, then three and even four, into Lilith's cunt, scissoring them back and forth while
pumping, enjoying how her hips started to move almost spasmodically beneath his efforts.

"M- Master," Lilith moaned, "W- Wow... I..."

He kept going, certain she'd be able to last a while longer, yet.

The young wizard's only clue was the tiny hands tightening almost painfully on his shaft,
both of them, a moment before his mouth flooded with more of the same thick, viscous fluid.
Like before, it tasted of cloves, but there was so much Harry began to choke almost
immediately, and he pulled away.

That, too, might have been a mistake, because Lilith painted his face and chest quite
thoroughly with another massive load, because he didn't want to move further and risk
damage to his cock- her grip was just that tight.

After she finally finished, Lilith squirmed out from beneath him and instructed, "Lay back on
the bed, Master- I'll clean you."

He hesitated to obey, but did as she'd asked. They would have to change the bedspread
anyway, and this... this was a big mess. How had she kept so much in her own mouth?

After he was on his back, feet on the floor laying sideways in the bed, Lilith quickly but
carefully moved her head in low, licking and sucking up every bit of her ejaculate with her
mouth and tongue, then going over Harry, from his hair, down his face, and all the way back
to his own still-eager penis, and even down to his toes, to make sure she'd covered every last
bit.

"Clean," she said from her knees on the floor between his legs.

Harry, now staring up at the ceiling, sat up in one motion. "That was naughty," he murmured,
"Not telling me you were close- how come you didn't hold back?"

In keeping with their current play, the little minx's grin widened into something resembling a
very fed cat, "Because I'm a bad girl, Master."

"Hmph. Seems to me like you want me to punish you. Is that how it is, Pet? You want a
spanking?"
"Yes, Master," Lilith cooed, reaching her hands up to place them on his still saliva-slick
thighs.

"Tough," Harry scowled, "You want to be punished, you want a spanking- I'll punish you by
not spanking you. Get back up on the pillows, like you were before. Make it bigger, too, so
you can put that thing back in your filthy little mouth."

Lilith actually blushed a little, but as she climbed over him to reach the position he'd ordered,
Harry could plainly see not just her previous white seminal fluid leaking from between her
nether lips, but fresh, translucent fluid, too.

As she got into position as he'd ordered, he resumed something like how he'd been then, too,
only this time, he would not be just watching. Instead, he knee-walked until he was right in
front of the little creature, then hiked her ankles up his chest, putting her feet directly on his
abs. "Do it," he ordered, "face-fuck yourself, you little slut."

"Yes, Masththr..."

She'd obeyed at once, clearly pleased with the turn of events even without any spanking.
Harry, though, wasn't done. "Turns out I've been selfish with my friends," he told her, "nearly
raping two girls that might have been enemies once, but I think are friends now. Convinced
another to have an orgy that she almost maybe regrets, because it almost cost her her current
relationship. Broke up an engagement between my sort-of-adopted family, and a girl I lusted
after but knew I'd never have."

"Mththr wth ngghtyr thoo?"

"If you asked if I was naughty too," Harry murmured, lining himself up with her still-oozing
twat but not entering it yet, "yes, I was. Very bad. I probably deserve to be punished, too. But
my friends forgave me, I think. But I want to do better. I don't want to be selfish. You're my
Pet, right?"

"Yth," she murmured, eyes fluttering as her dick swelled visibly, little hands tweaking the fat
nipples that capped the heavy, round breasts, each as big as his head.

"My Pet reflects on me. You can't be selfish, either, if I can't. Right?"

"Rmghth?"

"So... from now on, I'm going to be sharing you a bit more. You don't mind, right?"

Even with her dick in her mouth, Lilith smiled, shaking her head no.

"Good. Well... not right now. But this year. If you're good this year, I'll reward you more, next
year. See, I don't have to be selfish. I can be nice."

"Vrrey nth, Mathhrr."

He slid forward with his hips, pushing just the head of his penis inside her, but stayed there,
enjoying how she kept moving it in and out, stretching herself and back as her hips continued
to pump. "But, since you need to be punished... you can't have an orgasm, Pet. Not until I say
you can."

She groaned around her cock, but nodded once.

Only then did Harry push in, hard, forcing not just himself into Lilith, but her own erection
further into her mouth as her body bent nearly in half. Then he grabbed her by the little horns
and pulled her head down farther, getting another inch and a half of herself down the
Succubus' throat. He held her there while he was nearly bottomed out, the only movement for
both of them her shaking hips, which seemed unable to stop.

Yet, even when he let go after a full count of thirty seconds, Lilith didn't take her erection
from her mouth, but still continued shagging her face.

It was a little awkward for Harry to do much like that, but it still felt nice as she moved on
and against him, so he stayed, watching her breasts bounce on either side of the thick member
for several minutes.

Then, with a teasing grin, he pulled out, achingly slowly.

Back in, hard.

Out, slowly.

Then grabbed his fuck-toy by the knees and yanked her down with him so only her head was
still on the pile of now-drenched pillows, still forcing just the tip of her into her mouth, and
started to hammer away with gusto.

At one point, had Harry been able to track such things, he would have been amazed to hear
he was getting nine or even ten pumps a second, but Lilith felt amazing, even stretched as she
had been, around him, wet with both of her kinds of fluids, and as always, molded to fit him
perfectly, stroking and milking Harry's hard-on for all it was worth.

His hands were not idle, either, nor just supporting him, for Harry rested on his elbows, his
fingers splaying over hers to grab at Lilith's fat breasts, kneading until it seemed like his
fingers would disappear, before letting go to pull a hard nub into his mouth and suckle, even
nibble lightly. One side, then the other.

He came, hard, with an animalistic roar of possession, power, and lust, gushing out into her
so forcefully that, like she had before with Hermione, he filled her entirely, leaving more than
a quarter-pint of his own seed on the bedspread beyond what she kept inside, accepting fully
into herself.

But he didn't tell Lilith she could climax, so, with tears in her eyes, she kept going, now
pleasuring herself wildly with both hands.

Harry, too, joined in with almost sadistic glee, pumping the lower half of her shaft with both
hands while his cock re-hardened once more, and he resumed thrusting.
This time, though, he pulled out after a few more minutes of more gentle motions, and knee-
walked up another foot, to lay his own erection between the massive tits alongside the girl's
own dick, and, by the nipples, held them together while he fucked those, too.

Obediently, as he rode her body higher and higher in his passion, Lilith's mouth stretched just
a little wider, allowing her, just barely, to fit both her head and his inside.

Only then, after another mind-shattering, white-out orgasm into her mouth, did Harry say,
"Cum for me, Pet."

And she coated them both, all of her tits, down around both sides of her throat and chin, her
cheeks, and even up into her pink hair, though Harry could see, as he pulled away, unable to
take the hyper-sensitivity any more, that her stomach was starting to swell with the sheer
volume of what she'd swallowed.

But he wasn't quite done.

"All of it, Pet," he commanded, collapsing into the nearby chair to watch, legs splayed out,
"clean it all up."

On trembling limbs, Lilith slowly obeyed, cleaning first herself with her tongue and hands,
even suckling just a little more on her half-erect tip to pull some from the pipe, then got on
her hands and knees and started licking it all from the bed, before climbing, still supine,
down to the floor and between his knees, where, for the third time that night, she cleaned him
orally.

"Good girl," he murmured, patting her head like a nice Master, "Now... I have to get up by
nine, and it's after midnight. If you get horny in the night, go shag... I don't know, the bed-
post or something. Your dildo, whatever. I need to sleep."

"Yes, Master," Lilith murmured.

Truth be told, she hadn't been gathering much of the semen in Sirius' neighborhood.
Someone, she wasn't sure who, had a Succubus in the region. Their territory was small, but
she wasn't about to encroach, even if she could have.

Her Master was more than enough.

So, as he climbed into bed, she curled into his arms, always happy to be the big or little
spoon, and 'slept' with him.
 Rail-Road Railing
Chapter Summary

... And sometimes destiny just follows a track as if guided that way by invisible hands.
Or other body parts. Those, too.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. You can also check out my Discord at
https://discord.gg/UAJw4CnB

SORRY ABOUT THE MIX-UP! The Z:PoW chapters are coming, I promise, but on
schedule. Not when I screw up and post FwB chapters I've already posted to PoW using that
fic's chapter order... /eyeroll@self
These are what should have been posted.
IF YOU ARE COMING TO THIS LINK DIRECTLY, you missed a chapter (23). Go
back and read it, or this one will not make so much sense!

Chap. 24: Rail-road Railing

Without the Weasleys' presence to slow him down, Harry, after his customary morning blow-
job on waking and sex in the shower, was fed, dressed, packed, and ready to Floo to King's
Cross by ten in the morning.

Sirius, now a free man, was happy to take the opportunity to build on the cheer from his
earlier visit to Diagon Alley and fulfill his godfatherly duties at the same time, in seeing
Harry off.

More-so, it was a chance for him to ogle the new identity Lilith was adopting for the school
year.

"Lyra Sendai," a half-Japanese, half-American girl with soft brown hair, almost golden brown
eyes, and a figure that sat almost perfectly in the middle between how Harry preferred Lilith,
and how Ron did.

A girl wearing the school uniform of her old school, in the 'States', but who had brought
Hogwarts ones to change into on the train, with all the appropriate paperwork.
Paperwork which... "Shit," Harry muttered, "I forgot to tell Dumbledore you were coming
this year as a student."

"Relax, Pup," Sirius said with a yawn, still sipping his morning coffee as he reached for the
Floo powder-box, "I talked to him the other day and mentioned it. He said it would be fine,
that arrangements would be made. Seemed to have assumed you'd want something like that. I
don't know what he's planning, but you know how hard he is to surprise."

Indeed, Harry did. In his recollection, the only time he'd really seen it was when he'd told the
aged wizard that he'd summoned Lilith in the first place.

Twenty minutes later, with not a few stares in both his and the 'stranger's' direction, Harry
gave Sirius a final hug (and so did 'Lyra', who 'thanked him for his generous hosting of her
family’), and climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express.

Moving down the train as quickly as he could through the press of students, Lyra trailing
behind him with his shrunken trunk in one pocket and her 'normal-sized' trunk (filled with
actual clothes and things) held between them, Harry passed compartment after compartment,
until he found a few familiar faces.

"Hey, Neville, Luna- d'you mind if we sit here?"

Hermione and Ron, of course, were attending the Prefect's Meeting again, while Ginny was,
no doubt, hanging out with her year-mate friends, not having seen much of them over the
summer. Hannah and Susan, he expected, would be along at some point, but he didn't really
expect either soon.

He, too, would, for the first time ever, be 'making the rounds' while on the way to school.

There were a few compartments he wanted to visit... or needed to.

''Course not, Harry," his friend said with a broad smile, "You don't mind, do you, Luna?"

"No, I don't mind," the spacey blonde said, looking closely at Lyra, "It's nice to see you
again, Lady of Dreams."

"And you, Childe of the Moon," Lyra replied with a soft, gentle smile, "And you, Mr....
Longbottom, wasn't it?"

"Er, yeah," Neville said, "That's me. Um... have we met?"

"No," Harry chuckled, glancing up and down the hall and shutting the door behind them
before hoisting her and then his trunk (still small) up to the luggage rack, "She's just being
funny, or trying to be. It's Lilith. The one who... you know, was invisible?"

Neville turned scarlet, but did not respond aside from swallowing.

Luna, though, turned her attention at that statement from the pretty form of the Succubus to
Harry, "She's the one who started blowing him to get him ready for Hannah Abbot?"
Neville was not the only one who spluttered; Harry did, too. "How- how d'you know about-"
Neville began, before realizing that was incriminating of itself.

"I had a dream about it," Luna said spacily, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a
well-worn journal, "Professor Trelawney seems to really enjoy my dream journal, because
I'm getting O's in all of them that I write down."

She handed it to Neville, who opened and read a few lines, then slammed it shut, his face
darker still. "That's- that's... er..."

"That night? Yes, I recorded it as accurately as I could. It was a fun dream. I almost wish it'd
been me doing it, though I think you might've panicked."

Harry couldn't help it. The expression on Neville's face, a strange combination of horrified,
aroused and flabbergasted, made him crack up.

He was still laughing when Lilith tugged him down onto the seat next to her, across from
Neville and Luna. "It's not that funny," 'Lyra' said, "but yes, I... have been sending you those
dreams. You should know, though, that this year I'm not 'Lady of Dreams' unless you want to
confuse people. I'm going by Lyra, Lyra Sendai, and we just met on the train today."

"Okay," Luna said agreeably, "As long as we all know the truth. Will you continue sending
me dreams? I quite enjoy them, and what comes after."

"Oh, I think I will," Lyra said with a wink towards both her and Harry.

Neville, who hadn't moved much in several seconds, put the journal carefully between him
and Luna, quite closed, and reached into his own bag for a Herbology periodical, and started
to read, or at least pretend to.

A few minutes later, Ginny stuck her head in the door, said 'hi', and left again, followed in
quick succession by most of the remaining members of the D.A. still at school. They were
still coming by in fits and spurts when the train started moving. Harry chanced a glance
outside, but he couldn't see Sirius, though he did wave at Mrs. Weasley, who seemed a little
teary as she waved back.

Two students left at Hogwarts, now, and he knew Ginny was in her fifth year. Three more to
go, and she was done sending her children away.

As the train gathered speed, Susan and Hannah joined them in the compartment, the latter
sitting cheerfully next to her boyfriend while introductions were made, then quickly falling
asleep on his shoulder before they'd left London proper, and the former sitting awkwardly
next to Harry in silence, with her arms folded in her lap.

"Yes, I've been staying with Harry and his godfather the last few days," Lyra explained, "My
parents are here for the term on business, but they had to go back to finish up some things
back home. Friends of his godfather, I guess, they seem to know each other pretty well. I'm
from Colorado, and sixteen, like you all, right? What's your name again? Sorry, I don't
remember them well."
"Erm- S- Susan, Susan Bones," the shy red-head said, tentatively taking the exuberant 'yank's'
hand and giving it a small shake, "I- I think Luna's fifteen, since she's a fifth-year this year,
but the rest are sixteen."

"Cool," Lyra said, and suddenly began talking a mile a minute about 'back home', how the
mountains were snow-capped for eight months of the year, how they were talking about
legalizing 'weed', whatever that was, and whatever else. Harry, honestly, couldn't follow half
of it.

So, when he saw Daphne Greengrass look pointedly at him through the compartment window
as she and Tracey Davis passed, he excused himself, "Making the rounds," and left the
compartment.

He found them, the same eight that had been at Millicent's, in a compartment of their own,
obviously expanded but still crowded. Corvus Montague and Cassius Warrington, though,
quickly got up and left, the former in a bit of a huff, the latter to 'guard the door from any of
Malfoy's cronies hanging about, while you lot discuss sensitive things'.

"Er, I just stopped to say hi," Harry said as the door shut behind the large Slytherin, "I didn't
really..."

"Sit," Pansy said, gesturing at the now very empty bench, with only Millicent tucked (as she
could) into the corner by the window, while Pansy, Tracey, and Daphne all occupied the other
bench.

"Alright, geez," Harry said a bit testily.

"Now," the olive-skinned girl began, "We- Daphne and I- have talked things out between us,
and have decided that we are alright sharing you between us. We-"

"Er, no," Harry held up a hand, "Not you two. Or, not- not just you two. Also, I don't and
won't have a 'schedule' if that's what you're thinking."

He didn't miss the scrap of parchment in Daphne's handbag being forced down inside, though
the girl did so as subtly as she probably could.

"Here's how it works," he continued, "If you want a 'rendezvous', ask me. Don't hint, just ask.
If I don't already have plans, I'm fine with it, as long as we can be discrete, and it's not a trap.
You ever try and trap me, and you'll find out why the Carrow sisters lost an aunt and uncle,
and why Voldemort was so mad after the Ministry."

Daphne sniffed, "We are not your enemy, Potter. Have you learned nothing? If we wanted to
get at you, we would have already."

"I know," he said quietly, "and I apologize, I do think that was- unwarranted. But sometimes
old habits die hard, I'm sure you understand. We've had nothing but- amicable dealings, and I
expect that will continue. Nonetheless, however. No schedules, you're all aware that you can't
and won't be my only partners."
Pansy nodded, clearly reluctantly.

Daphne seemed entirely uncaring, one way or the other.

Tracey gave nothing away behind her wide glasses, only watched him impassively, as she
seemed to do a lot of when he was present.

"We have a little more information, as discussed previously," Daphne offered after a few
moments, pulling a different stack of parchment from her bag and handing it over, "which I
expect you can make use of."

Harry nodded, "Thanks. Sirius took the last bunch straight to Dumbledore after he and I
looked through it the next day. He told me- Sirius did- that Dumbledore also agreed to as
much protection as he can give you, too. Which, frankly, is more than I can by a long
margin."

Daphne nodded. "I will- be making a few requests this year, just so that you are aware.
Requests for- as you say- a rendezvous."

Her tone was flat and passive, despite the subject matter implied, which made Harry's eyes
roll a bit. "Okay, that's fine, as I said- just get me a discrete message in some way, and I'll see
what I can do."

"I, too, will want your attention on... infrequent evenings," Pansy said, "And yes, I can be
'discrete' in my messages."

"Alright, then. If that's all...?"

"Wait," Tracey said suddenly.

Harry froze, half-upright, then sat back down. "Yes, Miss Davis?"

"I would also like to lose my virginity this year, and I would prefer that it was to you."

Harry swallowed- the girl might be shy, but she was blunt as could be when she did speak.
"I... okay. May I ask why the urgency?"

"A contract," she replied at once, "that my parents arranged. I wish to devalue myself to the
point where my betrothed's family no longer wishes to continue the arrangement. As such, I
will also be making several requests throughout the year."

"I... I see."

"She means," Millie added, looking up from her book, "she will likely be sleeping around a
bit with blokes. If she's 'trashey', or a slag, then her worth goes down as a bride."

Harry frowned, "That's... horrible."

"But the way it is," Daphne said.

Pansy and Tracey both nodded along.

"Alright... okay," Harry agreed with a sigh, "If that's what you want. I even... I know a few
blokes that would be willing, probably, and they're nice guys. You wouldn't have to worry
about being treated badly. D'you want me to ask them?"

"That would be appreciated," Tracey answered, "The prospects of being 'treated well' in
Slytherin are rather slim, and most of those are taken."

"That's... I can do that, then. Just- just give the word."

"Now, if that is acceptable," the slight girl asked, "I would like to get it over with and send
my parents the owl informing them of my sullied status as soon as possible."

Harry looked at the other girls in the compartment, who each were looking back at him,
gauging his reaction carefully. "Uh... that's... a bit sudden, isn't it?"

Tracey shrugged, "Perhaps. I trust my friends, and they trust you. I wish them to be present in
some fashion, because I love them. If that makes you uncomfortable, we can wait and be
alone, but I would prefer here, now, with them."

"I..."

"You aren't shagging me right now," Daphne muttered, "nor Pansy, I think. Just her. There's
only so much time."

Harry nodded. "I... alright. I... I guess we can do it now. Er... never performed for an audience
before. Not like this, anyway."

"Do we make you nervous, Potter?"

"Yes, Pansy, you do," Harry muttered, but pulled out his wand and aimed it at the door,
casting several spells to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed- not even if Malfoy came to call.
Teaching the D.A. had taught him a lot.

"How would you like to begin?" Tracey asked woodenly.

"Erm... traditionally, the- one of us would, um," Harry began nervously, "by, uh... k- kissing,
or kissing while disrobing the other, or... something like that."

"I see, disrobing does make sense," the girl said, then stood and immediately pulled her
jumper and the shirt beneath it over her head, then continued with her skirt and then panties,
until she was clad only in her socks and mary janes.

"Er..."

Harry was shocked.

Her figure was almost identical to Lilith's, and it caused an immediate reaction, though the
space between her legs was covered by a fine, thick patch of curly brown hair the exact shade
as that of her head.

While he admired her, feeling a not-small increase in blood flow to his nether regions, Tracey
adjusted her round glasses. "Am I that unattractive to you?"

"N- No," Harry stammered, "I just... you look like... someone else I know. Physically, you're
almost exactly her figure, that's all. It surprised me. But no, I don't find- find you unattractive.
You're very pretty."

"I am not as developed as Pansy or Daphne," Tracey said, gesturing at her chest, "Do not
most men find larger breasts attractive?"

Harry actually smiled, "Honestly, most men find any breasts attractive, in my experience.
Lots of them prefer them larger, but I like them in all shapes and sizes. My friend- the one
you look like- is one of my favorite lovers."

That he'd been able to say that casually might have indicated to someone who'd known him
for a long time just how much Harry Potter had changed in the last six months, but he noticed
no such thing.

"Anyway," he murmured, glancing at the others, who were still mostly watching his reactions
(though Daphne occasionally eyed her mostly-nude lover, too), "we- again, normally there
would be kissing, but I'm assuming you don't want to kiss me, especially not with-"

"I would like to, actually," the petite girl interrupted, "I would like to compare."

"Oh. W- Well, if that's alright with...?"

The blonde responded to his unfinished question with a shrug, "I don't care who she kisses.
She's going to be doing more than that, apparently. I still love her."

"Okay. Then- then I guess I'll s- sit, so it's not so..."

He did, and at his gesture, Tracey stepped between his legs, a bit mechanically, almost like
she was the robot she sometimes talked like. Gently, Harry put his hands on either side of her
waist, helping her position herself. Standing, she was just a little taller than him sitting, so for
once he had to angle his face up.

A spark, almost-real as far as Harry could tell, passed from her to him, or maybe the other
way around, as their lips touched, and he jumped.

He had expected wooden, barely-there motions, if anything, a very passive touching of lips.

But Tracey Davis did no such thing.

The moment their mouths met, her slender hands circled his neck, and her tongue delved into
his mouth, searching and seeking, dueling with his own, running along its sides and his teeth,
and even pulling his own into her mouth, before pulling away a little to nibble on his lower
lip.
When she pulled away, hands still around his neck at the back, Harry was panting, and his
jeans were straining with his now fully-grown erection.

"Mm," Tracey pronounced, "You are well-trained, and an adequate kisser. You may also kiss
Daphne when you make love. She is superior, however, in her passion."

Harry coughed, embarrassed, "I, er... am normally more... involved. You caught me by
surprise."

"I see," Tracey said, but did not move. "What is the next step?"

"Well... I... look, can I ask you something?"

Tracey nodded.

"D- D'you want me to like, as you put it, 'make love' to you, or do you want me to pleasure
you and shag you, and be done? Are we... are we planning on ten minutes? Twenty? An
hour?"

"I believe a shorter encounter is better suited to the situation," the girl said, "But I am not
averse to enjoying myself."

"Okay," Harry said quietly, "then... this is something I've never tried, really, but I think it'll
work, since you're... ready. For this part, anyway."

He stood up, "Lay- well, sit."

She did, occupying his position, then he knelt between her legs, bodily shifting her with
hands and arms under her thighs until Tracey sat at the very edge of the seat. "I am skipping a
few key steps," he reminded her (and, he hoped, Pansy and Daphne would understand that,
too), "and just focusing on you. This might only take a few minutes, but I want you to tell me
where I'm doing better and what's not as good for you."

Tracey nodded, eyes watching his face.

Sowly, Harry started running his hands, like he had with Lilith the night before, up the girl's
legs from her ankles, skipping around the obvious erogenous zone of her groin, and up her
sides and stomach, again going around the budding- or small-budded- breasts, down her
arms, and then back up the outside to her neck, getting closer and closer.

As he reached the top of the girl's head, taking note of places she shivered or squirmed (there
weren't many), Harry pressed his forehead to hers, then bent in for another kiss, one where he
started with gentle nibbles on her lips, instead.

Then he moved down with his mouth, around her neck, up to the right earlobe to nibble a bit
more, then down to her chest, massaging lightly and mostly with just his thumbs, before
dipping down to suckle there for a few minutes, and leave a trailing line of kisses down her
stomach.

Once his chin touched pubic hair, though, Harry looked over his shoulder. "May I?"
Daphne's hand held a nipple between two fingers through her cardigan, and her other was
between her legs, but she nodded, not taking her eyes off her lover.

Pansy, too, was visibly aroused- peaks showing through her blouse and bra- but she was not
doing anything about it. Millicent, in turn, seemed a bit turned on from her place next to
Harry, but kept looking at the book she was reading. Not that he'd heard a page turn in several
minutes.

His green eyes locked next on Tracey's, and she nodded, too.

With his hands splayed over her thighs, Harry used his thumbs to spread the nether lips
gently, and leaned in for first a deep, slow sniff, and then a taste. Ras- no... Mulberry. Slightly
fermented mulberry.

After a few seconds of exploring her folds with his tongue, Harry pushed in with his right
index finger, curling it quickly upward to find her g-spot, and stroking it lightly but quickly.

"Nng..."

It was the first sound of actual pleasure or passion the quiet girl had made, and it thrilled
Harry to hear it, to hear her losing some of that tight control.

"Again, I'm sorry if this is too abrupt, but we are on a time limit."

This was said with her pubes tickling his mouth, but Harry didn't care- he found it too erotic
to. Slowly, he slipped another finger in, and still working the top of her vagina just behind the
girl's clit, he set to on the miniscule nubbin with his lips and tongue.

Just twenty seconds in, she grunted and thrust her hips against his face, drenching his chin
and the first part of his shirt, before forcing his head away with both hands.

As he landed, hard, on his rump, Daphne gasped, "Wow! I didn't know you could- wow..."

While Tracey caught her breath, Harry grinned, inordinately proud of himself. "It's my
experience that a good number of women can, when properly stimulated. If you'd like, I'll
show you how."

"Don't get full of yourself, Potter," Daphne growled, "But yeah, you have to show me how.
I've never seen her orgasm that fast or hard."

A bit awkwardly now that he remembered he had an audience, Harry fished his erection out
of his jeans. "Last chance to say no."

"I will not say no," Tracey said, still breathing very rapidly.

Harry was amazed to see just how wide he was compared to her. The space between the girl's
legs was perhaps an inch and a half, and his Succubus-enlarged erection was almost a full
half-inch wider.

"Lilith," he thought quickly "Help with pain?"

Her response was swift, but not what he wanted to hear, "You can please her, Master, I have
faith in your skills. She knows it will hurt, and wants it anyway. Besides... Hannah's teasing
Neville something fierce, and it's making Susan blush, too."

"Sorry, this will hurt," he murmured, then pushed in very, very slowly.

To distract himself from the primal need to claim her as his own, to rut away at the tight,
virginal channel as if he would die in minutes, Harry watched her stretch and stretch to
accomodate his girth, watched the way her face shifted into a powerful grimace.

"It- you're right," Tracey said after he paused, "it did hurt."

"Dear," Pansy said quietly, "He's barely even in, yet."

But Harry could already feel the taut membrane he was now familiar with at his tip- she was
not going to hold him all, no way. But this was what she wanted. So, before she could take in
a breath to comment- he hadn't silenced the compartment against screams- he pushed past it
with both hands on her hips to hold her steady.

There was no scream, though, only a powerful, long grunt, followed by a child-like whimper.

Again, he felt something at his tip, but he was only about three-quarters inside, apparently
having fully bottomed out in the small girl.

There's a difference in their figure after all. Lilith can take all of me, easily.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered again, leaning low, trying to stay as still as possible below the
hips, to kiss away the tears that ran from Tracey's clenched eyes, wiping at the rest with the
pads of his thumbs. "I know... it won't hurt like that again, not ever."

After a few minutes of torture (for both of them), Harry started on her chest again with one
hand, the other moving down to make slow, lazy circles over her mons and clitoris, hoping to
bring back some small semblance of pleasure through the pain.

"Move, Potter," Daphne said, "Move, get your rocks off, and get out of her. It's hurting her."

"I know," Harry practically growled, unsurprised to find tears in his own eyes, "But if I help
her stretch now, it won't be as bad later. I don't want to hurt her again. Better- better to get it
over with now."

"He's right," Pansy said when the blonde drew in a sharp breath to retort, "It hurt me, too, the
first time, and I wasn't a v- virgin then. But the second was much better."

How come it didn't hurt Daphne very much, then...?

This time, Lilith answered in his mind, "She had a smaller hymen and a naturally wider
channel, that's all. And you weren't as big then, if you recall."

Still, Harry was having a hard time remaining still, not that his erection was fading at all. If
anything, holding back was making it worse, and it was starting to both ache and throb on its
own. So Harry pulled out, just a little, and eased back in, less than a half-inch.

Tracey winced, but said after he'd bottomed out again, "That... that wasn't so bad. You- you
can do that more."

Slowly, very slowly, Harry did, gradually increasing the motion until he was pulling his
blood-slicked cock out of her to the base of the head, and pushing back in until just before he
bottomed out again, occasionally going just beyond that point.

She was very tight, painfully so, which made Harry's endurance seem to last longer- it didn't
feel quite as good as he'd expected- but the blood was a good lubricant, and warm, and even
though he knew she was Daphne's girl...

She was still, in some strange way, home. Not in the same way as Ginny, Hermione, or even
Lilith, but... home. Like... almost like the Weasley's, rather than what he guessed his parents'
home had been like.

Not his home, but a home, one where he was welcome.

A second-hand home, maybe.

That realization pushed him to the edge, even as Tracey seemed to truly be enjoying it again.
"I'm getting close," he assured her, "It's almost over."

He was about to pull out when he felt Daphne's chest press against his back, surrounding his
neck, and her arms drop across his chest. "Inside," she whispered.

He tried to pull out, since he hadn't asked Tracey and she hadn't said anything, but as a
powerful climax crashed over Harry, Daphne's body locked him in place with her stomach
and knees on his rear, and he grunted while he spilled deeply against what he suspected was
Tracey's cervix.

Then, as he pulled away, grunting with how tight Tracey still was against his overly-sensitive
erection, Daphne did something else he didn't expect: she turned him to the side, kissed him
deeply but briefly, and lowered herself onto her own knees to take him into her mouth,
licking him in a Lilith-like way, clean of all the fluids and blood, even down the bottom of his
sack.

Then, she pushed him away further, licking at Tracey, too, gently opening her folds to clean
the girl, at least on the outside and as far as her tongue would reach, of the white- and pink
foamy mixture that dribbled and oozed out of the smaller girl.

Harry watched, dumbstruck, while she did so, but while Pansy and Millicent were both
watching openly, raptly, neither said anything.

Until, at least, Daphne finished and Tracey had apparently had another small orgasm, no one
in the compartment did.

Then the blonde stood, straightening her robes and skirt and turned to Harry, "That was part
of a ritual, Potter- Harry. Thank you for helping us complete it. I didn't mean to deceive you-
it wasn't my intention to even do it until just then. But as far as 'witch's witches' go- like
Tracey and I- there are things we can do with our magics, our virginal blood, that are useful
for certain spells, and I... I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get some of it. Because now I
have some of her essence inside me in a way I wouldn't be able to get any other way."

"And mine?"

She nodded, a bit sheepishly, and sat down next to her still-panting lover, pulling a small
hand between her own, "Yes, and yours. I hope you don't mind."

Harry shook his head, "No, I... telling me before hand wouldn't hurt my feelings in future,
though."

Daphne smirked, "I haven't got any more lovers for you to deflower in front of me, sorry."

"Er, yeah... about that..."

Harry rubbed the back of his head, still embarrassed, then tucked his half-erect manhood
back into his jeans a little painfully, "This... what was the point of the witnesses, or
whatever?"

"None, magically," Pansy replied, "Tracey... was attacked, once. She prefers not to be around
just men. They didn't get far, thanks to the three of us, but it still makes her nervous, that's all.
She wanted us close to help her feel safer."

"I feel safe with him," Tracey admitted sleepily, "He is for me."

Not 'the one for me', or 'mine', just 'for me'.

Harry didn't know what that meant, or why she'd used those particular words.

Nor, it seemed, did the others, because Daphne and Pansy both shared a confused look.

Only Millicent, who was still 'reading' quietly, understood, though. She'd felt a similar sense
from a certain someone during a certain orgy atop the Astronomy Tower. It was why they
were now in a relationship, one she'd never have considered before that.

But she said nothing, content to let things play out as they would.

"Er, I should probably get going," Harry said, glancing at his watch. It was past one already,
and the snack trolley had probably already passed, unable to get into the compartment.

"Yes," Pansy agreed, "but we should get Tracey clothed, first. Are you okay to move?"

"No," the small girl groaned, but forced herself to sit up anyway, then stagger up and across
the compartment to pick up her discarded shirt.

Harry waited, politely turned away, while she slowly dressed, then turned to give each a nod
before putting his handle on the door.
"Harry," Tracey's soft voice stopped him, "I wanted to thank you. So... thank you. For being
kind, and gentle, and being my first. I feel that I chose wisely. If I did not disappoint you with
my inexperience, I would be happy to have further encounters when I am healed."

Harry swallowed. This time, he didn't look at the others in the room to see what they thought.
"I... I am happy to have your company whenever you wish, Tracey. You did not disappoint,
and I look forward to truly showing you what a man can be like."

She smiled, a small, thin thing, but the first he'd ever seen on the girl's face.

It was pretty, he decided, as he slipped through the door.

He stopped at several more compartments over the next hour, his libido gradually decreasing
from 'raging inferno' back to its normal 'large bonfire' as he greeted each of the D.A.
members that he saw, a few more than once, and stopped to chat with a few younger students
that he didn't know as well from other houses, and even a couple in Gryffindor, friends, he
supposed, of Ginny's that he'd never actually talked to.

Harry even waved as he passed his own compartment near the back, smiling as he saw
Hermione and Ron present, the latter, along with Ginny now, telling some story that must
have involved Quidditch, since both their hands danced and intertwined as if they were
mirroring broom movements, while the others listened and laughed.

He was just about to finish the last compartment of the last car when a pair of strong hands
passed through what must have been an illusion of the luggage-car door, and pulled him
inside by the arm.

Even as danger-honed as he was, Harry didn't have time to do more than yelp before a hand
closed around his wand before he could touch it, and another covered his mouth.

If it hadn't been for the large breasts that pressed into his chest, Harry would have started to
panic, but whoever had pulled him into the dark space didn't assault him further, aside from
with their mouth on his.

A rather husky, female voice said into his ear, "I heard from a friend that you like to have fun
in dark places, like broom closets. So I'm here for my turn."

This voice, unlike Hannah's the previous year, was not modulated, only masked by what was
probably intentional mimicry of someone else's tones. "So here's the deal," the voice
continued, "I'll go down on you if you want. If you had fun, you go down on me. If we both
enjoy that, we can shag later."

Slowly, the hand relaxed on his mouth, letting him reply. "And if I guess who you are...?"

"Changes nothing," the girl said quickly, "Just takes some of the fun out of the game."

"Game... you're just in this for a romp, then? Nothing... meaningful?"

"No," she giggled, the hand that had been on his mouth moving down to fondle his balls
through his jeans, "just some fun fucking, having a good time, no strings attached."

"Mm. Okay," Harry replied quietly, "but I get to cast a few spells- for security, first."

She debated for a few seconds, then let go of his wand, "Alright."

He withdrew it slowly so he didn't alarm her, and cast about, "Homenum Revelio.
Disapparatus Confundus. Obscurus Relevatuum."

Nothing in the compartment lit up blue besides the vague outline of a curvy figure a bit
shorter than him. Anyone Apparating in or out of the compartment for the next hour would
be splinched, and rather badly. And nothing showed up as being hidden or invisible.

In other words...

"Just us," he confirmed, "So... you said you wanted to go first?"

"Mm, hmm," the girl said, still huskily, "I heard you had a big wand, but I want to confirm
for my- oh Merlin, that slag wasn't kidding."

She'd fished him out while talking, and her earlier action on his balls had him erect the
moment he had the space to swell.

In the dark, he felt her push him back against his chest, and feel around a bit. "Gods above
and below," she gasped, "It's past your belly-button."

"By about an inch, yeah," Harry confirmed, "Too much?"

"Gods, no," the mystery girl gasped, "Perfect."

Then she sank to her knees, angling him down as she went.

"That's a good girl," Harry found himself murmuring as she went down on him. Whoever it
was was certainly eager, and had probably done it before, but couldn't get more than a third
of him down her mouth before she began to gag.

After a few minutes of trying, she pulled off of him and gasped, "I can't do it. I..."

"D'you want me to help?" he asked, voice low.

She didn't say anything for a second, then, "H- How...?"

"I know a few tricks from my friends," he answered, "though one is a bit... rough."

"Rough? I.... I like the sound of that," the girl admitted. "Tell you what- we can alter the deal.
Be rough. If I'm still having fun when you finish, and I've got no bruises or marks to get
either of us in trouble, we can go right to the shagging next time."
Harry smiled. It wasn't normally his thing, but the sense of power and command he'd had
when forcing Pansy to do things, or ordering Lilith around was not something he didn't enjoy,
either. And this girl, whoever she was, was asking for it, quite literally. "Scoot back- the
wall's right there, right?"

He'd only poked his head into the luggage cars once, in his third year, but he vaguely recalled
a narrow hallway on either side before the car widened back up, which held shelves that
opened into the middle of the car and had closed doors for smaller items.

She did as he'd said, and Harry, pants around his ankles, walked carefully toward her, hands
fumbling for her head. Once he found it, Harry gently slid them down to massage the tender
flesh of her throat and below her jaw for a few seconds. "This should help you relax. If it's
too much, tap me. It's only too much if you're going to vomit. Gagging is alright."

"O- Okay," the girl said, voice still low but now audibly nervous, "What are you going to-"

He pushed into her mouth, filling it with as much as she could take.

She choked and gagged at once, but aside from a reflexive push against his waist with her
hands, she didn't fight him.

"Good girl," he said softly, encouragingly, still massaging below her jawline with one hand,
which transmitted interesting sensations to him through her tongue, while the other moved to
the top and back of her head. "Here's a bit more..."

He pushed in another inch, able to feel every detail as her uvula scraped against his sensitive
head, then another, until his thick cap moved past the back of her mouth and into the girl's
throat with a soft, almost inaudible pop. "Still okay? Good."

He didn't wait for her to think about it- that would be worse, he expected.

Instead, he eased in more, and more.

Then, as he started to get pushed downward by the back of the girl's hot, moist throat, she
gagged again, and tapped him, hard.

Harry pulled back, but only so that, with another popping sound, his head was back in her
mouth. "Good girl- you almost had it all. I only know two girls that can take all of it, you're
pretty good at this."

She pushed him out and asked, gasping, "How- how many girls do you know who've done
this, Harry?"

He grinned- another clue, someone comfortable enough to call him by his first name.
Probably a Gryffindor, since most of those he knew from other houses were further up the
train.

"More than a few, I lost track. Now, open wide..."

She did, and he entered again, this time sliding along her tongue and popping himself against
both cheeks a few times for the variance of sensation, before he pushed past and into her
throat again, this time without warning.

She gagged again, and tapped once, but didn't tap again when he held himself there. "Let it
go... relax. Just let it fill you, it's alright. You can still breathe? Nod if you can."

She took one breath, and he felt a wash of cool air pass his cock-head, then hot again as she
exhaled.

"Good, good. I'm going in more- try and relax."

This time, he wasn't slow, though he didn't go in hard, either. Instead, he set a pace he knew
Hermione could have handled, about a half-inch per second, easing in with a steady pressure.

Then he felt her nose against his pubic hair, and paused again for a few seconds before easing
out, throwing his head back at how her throat convulsed around him. "Gods... that's good.
One more try," he whispered, still with his head in her mouth, and eased in again before she
could fully catch her breath.

This time, he didn't stop until his arms shook with the strain of holding her against him, the
girl's nose buried deeply into his stomach so she couldn't breathe that way, either.

After a few seconds, she started to panic for air, and tapped him repeatedly, so Harry
obligingly pulled out completely, to give her jaw a chance to rest.

When the coughing girl had caught her breath, he sank to his knees, feeling for her face, and
kissing her deeply, though with only a little tongue, and running his hands down her neck to
feel around her chest. Round and full, heavy, but not really large. Larger than average, and
with an amazing firmness and shape, but not like Lilith's huge globes had been the night
before. That narrowed it down further. "Are you having fun, still?"

She coughed, voice actually scratchy from the abuse he'd put her throat through, but said,
"Ye- yeah. Gods, that's hot. I feel like a cheap Knockturn Alley whore."

"Maybe you are, for all I know," Harry grinned into the darkness, and rose back up. "Are you
ready for me to use you like one?"

She girl shivered before him, knocking against his knees, and he felt her reach for his cock
with her mouth. "Ready," she said, and started licking him while he lined back up.

Once his head was back inside her, he resumed holding the girl by the jaw and back of her
head, and pushed in, faster than before, less gently, until he was fully sheathed again. This
time, the whole length of him- about nine inches, according to Lilith- took about five
seconds.

Then he pulled half-way out, and back in, and out, and in...

Soon, he was rutting at her face with abandon, giving the wanton girl just enough time to
gasp for air past his head before closing off her ability to breath again, not quite heedless of
her state, but not caring overly much.

Even Hermione, by far the best human girl he knew at giving fellatio, couldn't do that, she
had to have air.

This girl didn't seem to need much, though, or didn't care if she started getting a little fuzzy.

Maybe she couldn't see herself getting tunnel-vision in the darkness?

Harry didn't know, and didn't care. She'd asked for it rough.

But as his climax approached, he yanked himself out, and pulled the girl to her feet by the
armpits.

She was limp, but still breathing. "Sh- shit," she panted breathlessly, allowing him to hold her
up for a few seconds, "That was... more than I expected, Harry."

"But you liked it, right?"

She nodded, leaning in to kiss him, this time. "Yeah, I sure as hell did. You can do that until
you finish, though. I can take a bit more."

"Nah," Harry grinned, "Let's give your jaw a break. D'you want me to go down on you?"

She shivered in his grasp, but shook her head. "No... 'fraid that might be too much. As randy
as I am, we'd just shag now, and that would ruin the fun later."

"Mm. Okay," he conceded, "Though I think I've narrowed you down to three people, I won't
spoil the fun. Are you okay to continue?"

"I think so," she whispered, working her jaw a bit, then kissing down his shirt as she lowered
once more to her knees, "Just do it hard- not too hard. I don't feel like I'm going to gag
anymore once you get it past the angle."

Harry nodded into the darkness, and slapped her cheek lightly with the side of his cock, then
slipped past her lips once more, and all the way to the bottom.

This time, as he savored her throat trying to reflexively swallow him, the girl brought one
hand up to cup and fondle his hanging testicles, the other moving, he thought, between her
legs to pleasure herself.

He counted breaths himself, pulling out at five to give her a chance to breath, then once she'd
slowed again, he started going harder, faster, truly throat-fucking the girl for all she could
take. And she moaned, writhing, the girl's other hand eventually joining her first, until even
over the sound of her choking on him, he could hear her fingers slicking in and out of the
girl's cunt, which dribbled on the train floor along with her spittle.

At two minutes exactly, not that he was counting anymore, Harry exploded into her with a
grunt, holding himself as deeply as he could go while he shot jet after jet of thick seed almost
directly into the unknown girl's stomach.
When it was too much, he yanked himself out and, knees struggling to just hold himself up at
the moment, hauled the girl up to meet him again.

With one hand then holding her up against the wall, his body pressed tightly to hers, one of
his hands took hers by the wrist, and brought her slim fingers up to his mouth, where he
sucked two of them in. Vanilla...? Maybe.

Then he kissed her, putting the other two fingers into the girl's own mouth, where she
groaned and tried to remove them, but appeared to start savoring it, like he had, after a few
seconds. "My price," he murmured, "taste yourself, Vanilla-girl."

"French vanilla," she added breathlessly, "I didn't... I've never tasted... It's... not bad."

"I love your flavor," Harry told her, kissing her again, just on the lips this time. "It's sweet,
like you... Lavender."

She froze.

"How... how did you know it was me?"

"I didn't," he grinned in the dark, hands going around her waist to hold her close, now away
from the wall as his stamina recovered, "but you just told me. It was a good guess, though.
Your figure, the way you talk... I didn't peg you as a girl who liked it rough, though."

"Nor did I, until today," she admitted breathlessly, "But fuck, Harry... that was so sexy. I'll
blow you any time, anywhere. Somewhere public might be fun."

"One day soon, I hope," he replied with a smile, "But not today. I'm still up for that shag, if
you want, though... or I could return the favor."

"N- No... I'm a bit worn out, thanks. I... I'm satisfied."

"You came, didn't you? When I did."

She didn't answer for a second, hands limp at her sides until right before she did, when she
wrapped them around his head and pulled him down for another kiss, then spoke into his
mouth, "Yeah- hard. Almost as hard as you. 'Till next time, Harry... I hope it won't be long."

Then, like Hannah before her, she was gone.

Harry could only muse on the madness his life had become in recent months as he slowly
winded his way back through the thinning crowds in the corridor as more and more of the
students settled in for the duration of the ride with their best friends.

He, too, opened the door of their compartment tiredly and stepped in, sliding it shut behind
him. Only... there were no seats left.

On the right, where they'd been before, were Hannah, Neville, Luna, and now Lilith, still and
semi-permanently disguised as Lyra, while on the left, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Susan sat,
with the buxom Hufflepuff closest to him and the other red-head nearest the window.

They were carrying on several conversations, and everyone, even the shy Susan Bones,
smiled at Harry as he entered, or greeted him. Yet...

No one shifted, so what was he to do?

"Um, S- Susan, can I... talk to you for a moment? In the corridor?"

The girl visibly jumped at being addressed, but nodded, her face matching her hair. Hannah,
her best friend, shot a not-too-discrete thumbs up as Harry turned, grinning from ear to ear.
She was already whispering rapidly into Neville's ear as Harry opened the door again,
holding it for Susan.

"Er, sorry about that," Harry said after shutting the door, keeping his voice low, "I just... well,
I figured we should talk without everyone listening in. Most of them... well, you know
about..."

"Hannah?"

Susan's voice was level, not accusatory, so Harry nodded as simple acknowledgement rather
than with any worry. It had been Hannah, after all, who told him about Susan's desire to have
children with him, so of course they'd have mentioned his... affairs with the blonde who was
her best friend. "Yes, er.... Hannah. And... Ginny, and Hermione, and Li- Lyra."

Would he tell her about Lyra's true nature as Lilith, the Succubus? Not soon, Harry thought.
She was, of all of them, the most likely to react poorly to the information. Summoning wasn't
strictly illegal, but it was much frowned upon, and considered quite dark given the very
nature of binding a creature to service, especially a creature like that. Eventually, if she
decided to fully go through with things, yes, but if not, then she was fine never knowing, as
was Hannah.

Better they just think he'd become something of a playboy, not... the real thing.

"So you've slept with Hermione and Ginny, too, and that new girl?"

Harry nodded, glancing around, "Yes, but I'd- we would all- appreciate it if you didn't go
bandying it about. It's not everyone else's business."

"And you're already in a contract relationship with Daphne Greengrass, in Slytherin."

That was not a question really, as he'd flat-out told her that same thing on the way back home
from Hogwarts at the beginning of the summer.

"Well," Susan said, voice just as quiet but now keeping an eye out herself, "As- as long as
you aren't going to get me some disease like spattergoit, then I suppose... it doesn't really
matter. You aren't my boyfriend so I don't have a say in who you shag. If you were my
boyfriend, I would insist it was only me."
"Technically," Harry muttered quietly, "I've, er... been with... more. A bunch more. I honestly
lost track."

One red eyebrow raised impressively high.

He hastened to explain, "I- it just sort of happens lately. I've- well not never, but rarely gone
looking. Even just now, on the train? I visited with my other friends, as I've said- yes, I have
other friends now besides Ron and Hermione- and one of them, er... propositioned me.
Immediately. They were most insistent, and..."

Susan, to Harry's surprise, grinned, "You've shagged someone on the train, this trip?"

"Yes," he admitted, lowering his voice further still, "And keep it quiet, would you?"

"You really are daring," the girl snickered, covering her mouth with a hand, "You enjoy the
thought of getting caught, huh?"

"No," Harry muttered, "Well, maybe, but that's not why I..."

"It's alright, I don't judge," the Hufflepuff continued, grinning wider still, "Listen- I need to
go catch up with the rest of Hufflepuff's new sixth-years, and I doubt Hannah will want to
leave Neville. So would you mind making my excuses? No, I won't go blabbing. That would
ruin my reputation once it gets out you've... agreed to my proposal."

A few minutes later, Harry having made just that excuse, squeezed into the empty spot Susan
had left next to Hermione.

The rest of the train trip, aside from Ron wondering why Malfoy, who Harry was somewhat
surprised to even hear had been on the train in the first place, hadn't made an appearance yet
and changing into their school robes, was spent in companionable good cheer and a rather in-
depth discussion of the courses the group of them would be taking, and what careers they
might be hoping to enter using those N.E.W.T. grades.
 Jus Primae Noctis
Chapter Summary

Harry has a very... eventful first day back for sixth year.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. You can also check out my Discord at
https://discord.gg/DSfWTpTU .
Finally, a reminder- I know you all read these religiously, so I'm sure you caught it above-
there's this same story up to CHAPTER 43 on FFnet right now. And 72+ on another place I
can't mention here elsewhere on the internet. Look around, you'll find it. ;) The Discord is a
decent place to start. lol

Chap. 25: Jus Primae Noctis

In a mad dash, most of Harry's party made it all the way into the carriages, with Lyra, Ron,
Hermione, Ginny, and Neville- Luna had ended up separated from them in the crush of
students- on the last leg of the journey to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade Station, without
becoming drenched.

About a two-mile journey, most of the way by road around Hogsmeade Village itself, and
then up the long road to the gates, and the castle at the head of the valley.

Twenty minutes or so, in good weather. The usual weather around the country, deep and cold
rain mixed with fog, had settled in for good over the last two hours of the train-ride, though,
and in muddy conditions, the ride could take as much as an hour despite the magical
creatures most of their group, now, could see pulling the carriages.

Ginny made it about two minutes into the ride before starting to pull off her clothes.

"Hold up," Ron protested, flushing, "What're you doing? You'll freeze!"

"It's been fine for you," Ginny shot him a glare, "And Hermione, able to shag the last couple
days, but I haven't had mine, and I want it now."
"No way," Ron said again, only to get his sister's jacket thrown into his face. While
spluttering and pulling it off, he continued, "I'm not watching my sister shag my best mate!"

"Technically you already did," Hermione reminded him.

"Th- that was different," the ginger said again as Ginny furiously undid each button of her
white blouse, "that was- in the heat of the moment!"

"Well, I'm in the cold of the moment now," his sister growled, "and if you don't like it, don't
watch."

Of course, then her blouse covered his head, too.

By the time he fought it off angrily, Ginny was on her knees in front of Harry, pulling his
already twice-drained cock from his pants. Harry could only shoot a helpless sort of look at
his best friend, and mutter, "What am I supposed to do? Say no?"

"W, Well-" Ron protested, only to fall quiet as Lyra's hand snaked beneath her skirt, and
Hermione's landed on his own crotch a few seconds before her book snapped shut in the
other. "W- When you put it like that..."

Harry groaned as the eager girl took him into her mouth, but she didn't suckle on him longer
than it took for him to regain full-mast. With the Runes, even though he'd already had two
very satisfying orgasms with Tracey and Lavender (both more than a couple hours ago), it
took about ten seconds before he was throbbing.

Hermione, at least, glanced out the small windows into the gathering darkness, before
reaching further beneath her skirt and pushing her underwear and stockings down to her
ankles. "Ron? I've sort of been waiting, too."

Neville, poor boy, was dumbstruck. "I- like, just like that? In front of, well, everyone?"

Lyra grinned across the shy boy, who was sitting across from her, and said, "Well, I am
known to have that influence on people. Did you like my blow-job last year?"

He turned even redder than before, eyes switching from where Ron's hand had joined
Hermione's between her legs while they snogged, and Ginny, clothes only half on but fully
open though her own stockings and knickers were only around one ankle, put her knees on
the bench on either side of Harry to straddle him and sink down with a low, husky moan.
"I..."

"D'you wanna fuck?" Lyra asked teasingly, licking the tip of a finger while she eyed the
growing bulge in his shorts.

"I- I'm... I mean, I have... a g- girlfriend...."

The Succubus in the guise of an oriental American smiled, "So do they, sort of," and gestured
around the rest of the carriage. "Doesn't mean I haven't been with three of them."
Harry, even distracted by Ginny's small breasts sliding across his own jumper and robes, as
well as her glistening, glorious snatch enveloping his rod, was quite amused to watch Neville
visibly counting people, then double-checking his math.

"Yeah, she shagged Hermione, too," he told the boy on his left. "Hot, huh?"

Lyra didn't wait for another answer or ask anything further. Instead, she only slid across the
carriage onto her knees, much like Ginny had done, but left most of her clothing on. Only one
button of her well-filled blouse opened, near the bottom of her chest, before she grinned up at
him and started pulling down the other boy's trousers.

Hermione, meanwhile, had used the empty space Lyra had vacated to lay face-down across it,
head turned toward the pairs of Harry and Ginny, and Lyra and Neville. Ron, left with the
enviable position of having to mount Hermione Granger from behind, struggled to do so for a
moment before easing into her depths with one knee and one arm on the floor to support
himself, the other arm on the bench near her head.

"We're... we're really doing this?" Neville asked, watching as what were probably his four
best friends, Ginny included, shagged each other right in the carriage, and the relative
stranger (despite the revelation that it had been her who'd done the deed earlier, they'd barely
talked before the train, and little then) was...

Was stroking him hard, watching his face.

Then she pressed a kiss to his swollen tip, and guided it between the opening in her blouse,
and between... Oh Merlin...

Neville groaned, making Ginny look over even as she rode Harry with increasing abandon,
"That's so sexy," she gasped.

Neville could not take it- despite only having reached full arousal a minute earlier, despite
having now lost his virginity and so on, he could not take the eroticism of the moment. "I'm
gonna-"

But his climax was pinched off as Lilith, who had for a few moments been tit-fucking with
her clothes still on, used two fingers to give the base of his cock a very hard squeeze, making
him yelp. Then she pulled away, maintaining her grip, to slide up his body and lean low,
licking his ear and then whispering, on the side facing Harry and Ginny so they could both
hear, "You're not getting out of my shag that easy, kiddo."

Only then did she send a questioning look to Harry, asking voicelessly if he was alright with
it.

Harry, though, turned to Ginny and whispered, just as quietly, "What do you think, Pet? Can
Neville join in our little group?"

The red-head pushed herself down, hard, on Harry's cock, then looked down at the swollen
thing in Lyra's hand, which was starting to turn purple. "Sure."
"Excellent," Lyra said, before turning around and lifting her skirt to reveal a complete lack of
underwear.

Harry, of course, knew that was normal for the delectable creature, but Neville seemed to
have been taken completely by surprise at the luscious arse and hairless, dripping slit
presented to him, and he gasped in shock.

Shock which morphed into a deep moan of pleasure as Lyra sank down on him, grinding her
hips into his.

Harry could tell that Ginny, too, was getting close to orgasm as her breathing and motions
both grew frantic. She turned her head to his other side, and whispered, "Harry, d'you want
me- want me to shag N- Neville, this year?"

His penis swelled inside the petite girl, though he didn't know if she noticed. Did he...? He'd
said, when they'd first made love- or at least, when he'd first claimed her as his Pet- that she
would shag 'whoever he wanted'.

But did he want...?

Lyra- Lilith- had been who he'd been thinking of, and Hermione, too.

But... why limit the girl?

She clearly wanted to be... well, promiscuous might not be the best term, but something like
him. Open. She enjoyed sex, at least. "Do you want to shag him? Shag your first date?"

Ginny shrugged, her walls quivering around Harry's member as she went through a brief,
minor orgasm in building toward a powerful one.

Harry wanted a more definitive answer, and knew how to get one from the youngest Weasley,
though. He used one hand at the back of her head to force her to look down at the pair next to
them, to watch as Lyra, leaning forward, rocked back and forth on Neville. "Do you want that
cock Lyra's shagging in you, Ginny?"

"Y- yesssss," the girl moaned as she came again, harder.

"Okay," he murmured, "you can- later. Right now, you owe me at least one good orgasm,
so..."

"Yes, Master," she found herself moaning again, unable to stop herself from bouncing despite
the heightened sensitivity that came with not just one, but two climaxes in quick succession.

Harry looked across the carriage, then, to see Ron hammering into Hermione from behind,
the girl holding her ass open with one hand to give him more room to go deeper, while the
other fondled her own chest through her uniform as one breast had slid off the edge of the
bench in their passion.

Neville, perhaps predictably, finished first, spilling into Lyra with his hands pulling her close
to his body, his waist and hips lifting clear off the bench.
A few seconds later, so did Ron, filling Hermione completely with the aid of his own Runes,
while Ginny, finally, was allowed to rest after a once-again satisfied Harry spilled into her,
too.

Due to their activities, the group of six had to scramble back into their clothing and straighten
everything out quickly. The last of them, a very flustered Neville, was helped by Ginny to
adjust his tie just as the carriage squished through the waterlogged gravel path at the foot of
the stairs into Hogwarts.

Fortunately, their disheveled state was easily masked by the pouring rain, and the fifth- and
sixth (and sort of first) years were able to blend right in with the crowd of bedraggled
students. "Better than fourth year," Ron said with amusement as he shook out his hat and put
it back atop his head, then pulled out a wand and started drying off with it, "Remember
Peeves, too?"

Harry chuckled, "Yeah, he got the Chasers pretty good."

"Yes, well, that little pest isn't here currently," the stern voice of Professor McGonagall
informed them. She was wearing her usual dark green robes and black hat, looking just as
kept and together as always as she walked slowly past, her own wand focused on cleaning the
water from the floor that the hundreds of students were bringing in. "Mr. Potter, the
Headmaster has asked me to speak to you and your companions privately after the
welcoming feast. About your... arrangements."

The older woman sent a clearly disapproving glance in Lyra's direction, but didn't say or do
anything else to indicate how she felt about the Succubus' presence. Clearly, though, she
knew what the girl was.

"Excuse me, Professor," the creature in question asked politely, accent easily discernible
amidst the rest, and contrasting strongly with the old witch's own thick Scottish speech,
"Should I be sorted, or...?"

McGonagall sniffed, glancing at the girl briefly, "Yes... er, no, you won't be Sorted.
Sometimes the Sorting Hat doesn't know how to keep things discrete, so the Headmaster and
I agreed that you would simply be placed... in my own House. Again, we can discuss this
later. You may eat with your... friends, and if anyone asks, you can use the story you've
concocted. I will speak to you later."

Then she hurried off, wand still shooting out jets that evaporated or vanished wide swathes of
puddles from the flagstone floor.

Lilith, of course, had seen the Great Hall before. Lyra had not, though, so she acted suitably
impressed, asking Hermione several questions about the way and reason the candles floated
above the tables, how the food was brought out, the purpose of the tables being arranged as
they were, and so on.

The Feast itself was fairly standard, Harry decided, Hogwarts’ amazingly good fare prepared
by the team of more than a hundred House-Elves. Only the announcements gave him pause,
as Professor Dumbledore once more took the flying eagle-capped podium, his voice strong
and firm, calm, but powerful.

"Welcome, students, both the old hands and the new. Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There are a few announcements I'd like to get to before
our excellent meal is brought up, so that we can eat without feeling rushed. Firstly, as many
of you know, the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort has publicly returned, and unlike the
previous year, his revival has been acknowledged by the new Ministry of Magic."

This first announcement brought a great many dark whisperings from among the students, but
Dumbledore raised a hand, and very quickly, everyone fell quiet again.

"This has necessitated many changes in the security of the school. I would first like to remind
all students of third year and above that you may visit the village of Hogsmeade on
designated weekends only with the signed permission slip of your parent or guardian. These
weekends will still be occurring, but will have additional patrols by teachers and, thanks to
the Ministry, additional Aurors will be stationed in the village and the route between there
and the castle for the duration of the day."

More whispers, these excited and happy.

"There are also a couple of staff changes that I must announce. Sadly, our Potions Professor,
Severus Snape, did not finish out the remainder of the previous year, and has been
subsequently sacked due to dereliction of duty. His whereabouts are currently unknown, but I
have been assured by him, in a letter, that he is still healthy and mostly whole. He will be
replaced, this year and this year only, by Professor Horace Slughorn, an old colleague of
mine. Professor Slughorn will also temporarily be taking the position of Head of Slytherin
House."

Polite clapping greeted the overweight wizard with the walrus mustache, who raised a hand
jovially, and looked over the crowd with a broad smile.

"And, as usual, I have found myself in the enviable position of needing a new Defense
Against the Dark Arts teacher. This year, the second in a row, I was unable to find one.
However, I am quite capable myself, and will be taking the classes for the upper years, fifth
through seventh."

Harry's eyes widened, and several people around him gasped. Did that mean...?

"Those in years one through four will be taught by another old friend of mine, one more than
qualified to teach the subject. He is not present in the castle at the moment due to some last
minute business, but he will, I have been assured, be present and ready for classes by
breakfast tomorrow. I shall be announcing his name at that time."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny exchanged looks of confusion, but none of them seemed to
know more about it than Harry himself.

"The Forbidden Forest is, of course, Forbidden to all students. It is simply not safe at the best
of times, and these are not the best of times. The list of banned items has grown to more than
five-hundred pages, primarily the products of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and-"

Harry grinned, tuning out the rest of what the old headmaster was saying. A blanket ban
sounded like just the thing, but that wouldn't stop the twins from getting joke products to
their best customer base. No way.

More than an hour later, bellies stuffed to bursting (even Lyra ate, if only to keep up
appearances, though she complained about having to exercise more if she was going to keep
her slim figure, which made not just a few of the girls around the table glare in the 'new girl's'
direction, and attracted the look of several of the guys), the first years were led out by the
incoming fifth-year prefects. In Gryffindor, that was a boy named Stan, Harry thought, and
Demelza Robbins.

The Quidditch Captainship, he suspected, had gone to Katie Bell, since the two of them were
the last of the team left, now, and Katie had been on the team for a year longer than he.

While most of the other students hurried off to their respective common rooms after the
firsties were led from the room, Harry and his closest Gryffindor friends lingered back until
their head of house dabbed at her lips with a napkin, stood from the table and said something
quietly to Dumbledore, who nodded at her, looked at Harry for a moment, then went back to
talking to Professor Flitwick at his other side.

McGonagall moved smoothly as ever down the stairs, back straight and fully upright. "Are
you nearly finished?"

"I think we all are, Professor," Hermione said, forcibly pushing Ron's laden fork down with
her hand on his wrist, "thank you."

"Very well. If you could follow me, I will explain the arrangements that have been made. I
assume, Mr. Potter, that your friends are... in on it?"

Harry swallowed, but nodded, "Yes, Professor."

"Hm. Come with me."

She was always stern, but Harry had rarely seen the Professor this cold toward any of them,
least of all him and Hermione both. Was Summoning and Binding a Succubus truly that bad
in her eyes? Lilith didn't seem to mind, and even Professor Dumbledore hadn't reacted like
this.

The witch led them up to the third floor corridor on the left hand side, a familiar place to each
of them by this point. Even Lyra, as Lilith, had been down it a few times while assisting
Harry with one rendezvous or another. At the first intersection down that hall, she turned left
again toward the outside of the castle, and moved to the end of a short hall. "These rooms on
the left," the Professor said quietly, "Will be for your... personal use, Mr. Potter. Use them
with discretion. I do not wish to hear that one of my own students has brought further shame
to our noble House with... dalliances. You may, of course, bring... others here. But only if
they can be discrete. You will, I hope, continue to spend time in the Gryffindor Common
Room. There is more to life than..."
She trailed off, gave a little sniff, then shook her head, "You will find the rooms
accommodating, I believe. If there is something you need added or changed, ask a House-Elf,
or call upon me. Professor Dumbledore has also volunteered to assist, but he has a great deal
on his plate already, so I would much prefer doing the work myself."

Harry nodded, "Right, Professor."

She opened the heavy oak door, revealing a wide open room, similar to a common room
without any House affiliation that he could detect, with a pair of couches next to a fireplace at
an angle with a table and chairs between them and at the ends both, a study area with a long
table near several half-filled bookshelves, and several doors, all shut, leading out of it. As she
led the students into the room, the witch explained, "These doors on the left, right and far
side, are the four bedrooms. You may, of course, invite your friends to stay on occasion, but
again, I must urge you to keep such behaviors to a minimum. The longer you can keep
knowledge of your new... companion a secret, the safer you will be, and the happier I will be.
Inviting a stream of students to what should be and was quarters for married staff to spend the
night would attract attention I am sure you do not want."

Harry gulped, then nodded again.

"The right-most door is a water closet, and the one next to it a shower. It is large, but single-
use only, and comes with another WC. For meals, you will still be expected at the Great Hall.
For classes, your... Companion... will be-"

"My name's Lyra, Professor," the Succubus said quietly.

McGonagall's eyes and mouth tightened. "Yes. Lyra. You will be attending classes with Mr.
Potter, I presume?"

The girl nodded happily.

McGonagall sighed, "Very well. I do not expect to ever hear a report of... fraternizing during
class time. This is a school, and class time is for learning. Is that clear?"

"Absolutely, Professor," Hermione answered first, "we'll behave, I can assure you."

McGonagall gave a disapproving little harrumph, "Some of you, I might believe that from,
Miss Granger. Perhaps Mr. Longbottom. The rest... while I certainly don't have favorites, you
are very much trouble-makers. And not just for me, either. Have you any further questions
about the arrangements?"

Harry shook his head, and a moment later, she was gone.

The moment the door shut, Ron turned to the rest with wide eyes, "You get your own room,
Harry. Wicked."

"It's a great responsibility, Ron," Hermione chided him, "but... yes, I can see the appeal."

"Come on, you lot," Harry laughed, "I mean... no offense, I get first pick of rooms, but I'm
still going to be staying in the Tower most nights. You guys can settle in for a second if you
want, though, before we go up."

Harry's room was much like he'd expected. The largest of the four, of course, with a queen-
sized four-poster similar in design to those in the dormitories, but without the canopy. There
wasn't as much need for privacy, now that he had his own room with a locking door.

The bed, of course, dominated the space, which Harry guessed was about the size of a
Gryffindor dorm room, but there was an open space on the gray stone covered with a fluffy,
soft rug, two dressers, a separate wardrobe, and a study desk. The moment he smiled at the
room, an elf he didn't recognize appeared, clicked its fingers together, and vanished as his
trunk and Lyra's both appeared at the foot of the bed.

"Excellent," he murmured, pulling his head from the doorway and turning to his friends, who
were still checking out the main room. "Alright, let's get up to the common room."

Of course, Harry should have expected that Lyra would be the center of attention. Hogwarts
wasn't completely unused to transfers from other schools, but it wasn't an exceptionally
common practice, either, and Harry hadn't heard of one in any house during their first five
years, so there was bound to be a bit of a to-do about it until people got used to the idea.

Lyra, though, handled the questions with remarkable aplomb, answering as many as she
could in vague terms, and flat-out lying about the rest. She remained consistent throughout,
never slipping or giving contrary information that he noticed, while more than two dozen
students, an even mix of curious girls and admiring blokes tried to get to know her better.
Questions like where she was from, what her family was like, what her favorite music was,
those were common and expected.

What caught Harry off-guard, though clearly the Succubus was ready for it, were questions
like, "Do you have a boyfriend back home?"

The first time that had been asked, Lyra had glanced at Harry and, grinning, turned back to
the curious witch who'd asked it, Lavender Brown of course, and said, "No...not back home. I
might have one here, though."

"Really?" the blonde witch had gasped, "Who?"

"It's... a secret," Lyra giggled, causing several of the other girls to wink at each other
knowingly, and the boys to groan.

It was almost fun watching her, he decided, milk the crowd for attention (which he knew she
loved, being able to act openly, even if her true nature was unknown to most), while also
dodging the questions with pseudo-information and vague statements that none of the rest
seemed to notice.

After a couple more hours, though, the questions slowed as more and more students went
upstairs to bed. There were classes the next day, after all.

But there was a bit more business to attend to that night.

From just outside the Gryffindor Common Room's door, beneath his Invisibility Cloak, Harry
carefully pulled out the Marauder's Map and whispered the words that would activate it,
holding it open as he paced as quietly as possible down the hallway, then turned right toward
the exterior of the castle. Unwilling to use his wand to create a light, he needed the Moon,
just now peeking beneath the slowly-breaking storm clouds.

For several minutes, he scanned the Castle, taking note of which Prefects and Professors were
doing what patrols, and who was out past curfew. It wasn't terribly late, only about ten in the
evening, but there were surprisingly few students about, possibly wanting to get a good
night's rest before classes began the following day. Harry was restless, and hungry.

Not for food, though, and even if he'd had now four different girls- women, in some ways-
that day, he wanted more.

Tracey was fun, but too tight this time. Lavender was... more brazen than I expected, even
after Hermione told me she'd given some bloke a blow-job. Ginny, of course, but it's too hard
to sneak up to the girl's dorms, and she might be worn out, and Lilith wanted to spend some
time with Ron, and that's fine. Maybe she'll enjoy Neville again, or Dean, too.

But who's there for me...?

His eyes caught on a name.

Luna Lovegood. What's she doing on the Astronomy Tower, and alone? Hm... she's kind of
cute, and seemed interested, judging by her reactions to Lilith and the dreams she's
apparently been sending the girl... would she say yes?

Harry found his feet walking that way once more, tracing the now-familiar path to one of his
most frequent trysting spots in the previous semester, and stepped out from the little stairwell
out into a cool, moist night wind, the flagstones of the tower just starting to dry.

"Hello, Harry," Luna's wispy voice called from his left. He found her sitting on the edge of
the parapet, feet outside, tapping occasionally on the stones with her wand behind her ear, as
she usually kept it, looking up at the Moon. It was once more hidden behind the rapid clouds,
but he could tell it would be visible again in just a few minutes.

"Hi, Luna. What're- well, if you don't mind me asking, why are you out here?"

She shrugged, not looking down, "I like looking at my namesake. She's beautiful."

"So're you," Harry found himself saying smoothly, more surprised now that he meant it than
at his apparent charisma.

"I suppose," the girl said with a shrug, "but most people find my beliefs off-putting. They
think I'm loony, you know."

"Clearly, they don't know how to speak the Queen's English, then. It's Luna," he replied,
stepping closer so that he was behind her left shoulder, and following her gaze after looking
briefly into the shadows down her nightdress and jacket.
She giggled, a bell-like sound, then looked away from the Moon up at him, "Are we going to
have sex, Harry Potter?"

He swallowed, unable to deny his desire. He wanted to... the age wasn't even an issue, not
after being with Ginny. Several of the people he was with the previous year were Luna's age
now. Sure, she was a bit dotty, definitely odd, but... wise, kind, and tranquil in a way few
others in his circle were. "That depends," he answered truthfully after a moment, "D'you
mind if I sit?"

"Of course not," the girl replied, "I'd like it if we could be friends."

"We are," he snorted, swinging a leg over and carefully joining her. He wasn't worried about
falling, as the wind was blowing toward their faces anyway, but the dark grounds below were
practically invisible, which lent an air of mystery and danger to the view. "Friends, I mean."

"So, what does it depend on?" she asked a moment later, seeming to disregard his claim.

"You, mostly," Harry admitted after debating for a moment more, "If you want to. When,
where, if you do."

"I don't know if I do," Luna whispered, almost too quiet to be heard over the wind, and
looked back up at the moon. "I came out here to help me think about it. I find myself
interested in the idea, of course, and the Lady of Dreams' enticements are very enticing
indeed, but..."

"But what?" Harry asked, when it became clear she wasn't going to finish the sentence
without prompting.

"I am not someone who cares for societal norms," Luna answered with a shrug, "but I do
crave affection and care. I do not want a casual 'fuck-buddy', Harry Potter. I want a lover, one
who loves me."

Harry took a long time composing his response, not because the words were hard, but
because he wanted to be sure of how he felt about the statement itself. Wanted to be sure that
what he was saying was accurate and honest. Not just to the girl, but to himself. "I... I have
several 'fuck-buddies', as you called them. I enjoy sex a lot. There are others, though. People
I care about more. Hermione, Ginny, of course, and Lyra."

"You love each of them," Luna stated, and it was clear even to Harry that it wasn't a question.

"Yeah, I do," he admitted, feeling his hand itch to move another few inches, to cover the
younger girl's. Maybe circle around her waist for a bit, but fought the urge back. "But... more.
In the last couple months of last year, I had more partners than I can remember. Several were
just fun, or for pleasure- theirs and mine. Some meant more, without me knowing it was
going to be that way. I don't know if I 'love' them. I 'like' all of those others. I could name
them, if you'd prefer to know."

Luna shrugged, "It doesn't matter. What makes them different?"

Harry brought one leg up and tucked the knee beneath his chin, a gesture that Luna followed
a moment later as he considered, once again, for several minutes. "I suppose... just the way I
feel. Making love to- or even hard-core fucking- Ginny, Li- Lyra, or Hermione is special to
me, because I love them, too. They feel... comforting, and they bring me peace in a way the
others don't, not necessarily. They feel like... I don't know how to describe it with any other
words, but they feel like home. Like I belong with them. Even Hermione, who clearly loves
Ron, and who loves her back."

"Hermione also loves you."

"I know," he replied with a nod, running a hand through his hair and casually- entirely by
accident, or at least subconsciously- putting it back over her smaller, cool one and giving it a
squeeze. She didn't pull away. "It makes sense, in a weird way, at least to us. If I can find
myself being in love with more than one person- why not her? I don't find myself jealous.
Ron says he doesn't, and you'd think he would. Hermione isn't. She thought she might be, of
Li- Lyra, or Ginny, or even everyone else. But she says she's not."

"I don't think I'd be jealous, if we were having sex," Luna said, still looking upward so that
the next break in the clouds began to play across her pale white nightdress and shimmering,
moon-colored skin.

"Anyway, some of the other girls... they feel like home, too. I really wish I had a better way
to describe it, but I don't."

"Do you think I would feel like home?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, "I never feel... or I haven't yet, felt that way until I've been
with someone. With some of them, it's after the fact, like as we're finished and getting
dressed, and I just feel... comfortable. Not all embarrassed, or guilty, or whatever. Some, I
know the moment I... go inside."

Luna nodded, "Thank you. Do you feel you've fully answered the question?"

Harry shrugged, "I think, but... like I said, I don't have better words. I wish I did."

"I found your answer clear, Harry," Luna said, then turned her head to the left, "I think maybe
not tonight. But sometime this year, I will be ready to see if I feel like home. If not, there are
others. Who knows... maybe I will simply enjoy sex, like you do. I have dreamed of others,
of course. I think the Lady of Dreams would be most fun to enjoy."

"She is," Harry laughed, then shivered involuntarily, "Come on, let's go inside, it's cold, and
we don't want to get sick."

Luna smiled, and accepted his chivalrous hand to help her from the parapet. Their hands
found each other in the stairwell, and she didn't let go until he'd walked the girl back to her
the Ravenclaw Tower's entrance, where a bronze eagle door-knocker stood. "Thank you,
Harry Potter," Luna whispered, wide blue eyes glimmering still in the moonlight from the
window behind him, "For speaking with me."
Then she leaned up and gave him a quick, chaste kiss, before knocking three times softly.

Harry waited while she briefly pondered a riddle, answered, and stepped inside with another
soft smile, then shut the heavy door.

Harry sighed, smiled, then pulled out the Map again. It was nearly midnight now, and the
chances of him finding anyone out and available were slim, but... A name he knew caught his
attention, someone moving down the main stairs.

What's Katie doing out at midnight, heading out of the castle...?

Harry shook his head while he debated dashing down the corridors and stairs of the castle,
but thought better of it after a few moments. There were easier ways if he wanted to find out
what the older girl was doing, even if there was a chance he could be distracted. Harry turned
on his heel and walked quickly down the stairs to the third floor and left, heading back not to
the Gryffindor Common Room, but to the more private quarters he had been temporarily
assigned, where the unfamiliar House-Elf had brought his school things.

With a grin, he opened up his trunk to find the familiar lines of his still well-polished Firebolt
racing broom. Harry shrugged off his father's Invisibility Cloak, stowing it away in the trunk
for the time being, and took up the broom. Then he stepped to the window, eyes searching in
the darkened grounds... Yes, there, just coming into view around one corner of the walls, a
black-robed shape, moving swiftly and barely visible.

Harry grinned in an almost predatory fashion, then hurried to the common room of the
quarters, where a pair of large windows stood. It was a simple matter to push one latch up
and the window out, step up onto the ledge, rest the broom in the familiar spot between his
legs, then step out into the night sky.

Silently, without closing the window, he glided down and forward, nearly invisible with only
the thin lines of the broom itself leaving something the girl would have the slightest chance
of spotting, if she looked both behind herself and up. But it seemed Katie Bell, hat on and
robes pulled tight against the renewed light patter of rain and increasing chilly wind, had no
suspicion she was being watched or followed as she made her way down the well-trodden
path to the Quidditch Pitch.

Harry kept a distance of about fifteen feet, close enough to make sure the summer-tanned girl
stayed well within sight, but far enough above and just a little behind that the chances she
would spot him if she did turn were minimal. He wasn't surprised, at that point, to see her
give just one quick glance around, then enter the wide, low corridor that housed the four team
locker rooms.

Harry leaned low, bringing himself close to the wall, and peeked his head around the corner
just in time to see her enter the Gryffindor section, the heavy door left open behind her.
Before he could decide if he wanted to intrude the girl was coming back out, this time
without her robes or hat. The rest of her uniform had changed, too, the sweater-vest, tie, and
long socks and shoes were gone, replaced by shorter, white socks without shoes, her skirt,
and the plain white blouse the girls wore beneath the vest when the weather was colder.
Despite it being still summer, there were a great many of the girls wearing the winter clothing
given the weather the country had been experiencing for months. Still, seeing her without
most of that protection, her own Cleansweep Seven in hand now, gave Harry pause. Isn't she
cold...?

Indeed, he watched Katie shiver, then tap her wand briefly against her stomach, before
sighing in relief. "That's better," she murmured, just audible over the moaning of the wind
through the corridor, which moved straight onto the pitch itself from the outside, unlike the
other stands, which had stairwells climbing higher and higher up stadium seating. "I
should've remembered the warming charm in the first place."

Harry grinned, glad that his lifestyle at the Dursleys, at least in his pre-Wizarding days, had
well prepared and acclimated him to the cold, on top of the hardiness he'd gained from
Lilith's runes. He was actually quite comfortable even just in his regular clothing. Then he
watched as Katie threw the broom between her legs, heedless that she was wearing a skirt,
and took off down the corridor as quickly as her broom would go, before twisting up once
she was clear and heading into the sky herself.

So, she's out for a midnight fly. Not that unusual, I guess... but the skirt makes me wonder.

His dick started to strain as Harry imagined catching a glimpse of knickers from below, and
slowly lowered to the ground, stepping in quietly, then sneaking in and depositing his own
broom in his locker, before leaving as well and following her, still nearly invisible, out onto
the pitch.

His eyes were glued to the acrobatic witch within seconds. He already knew she could fly, or
she'd never have been a consistent member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team for as many
years he'd been at Hogwarts, but watching the older girl perform moves that seemed so
effortless was mesmerizing. He knew for a fact how challenging some of them were to pull
off, even if he found a lot of joy in trying anyway.

Katie whipped, whirled, and spun in the air, twisting on a knut in several places, and at one
point, swooped low enough over Harry's head that his hair was whipped about, forcing him to
duck instinctively. But she showed no signs that she had noticed, and merely continued her
high-speed circle, one hand on the broom, the other clutching air as if she were holding a
quaffle. Eventually, ten minutes or so into watching her, Harry made his way back out and up
into the Gryffindor stands, where he sat on the second to the front row, right in the middle,
and cancelled the disillusionment charm.

It took maybe another half hour for Katie to notice him, and when she did, the girl's
annoyance was clear as she braked suddenly, turning to race directly toward him, and turn to
the side from a few feet away, just over the front of the stands. "What're you doing, Potter?"
she hissed, "It's after one!"

"I could say the same thing,"

Katie's scowl grew, "I have a free period until lunch- I can sleep in. Don't you have classes?"
Harry shrugged, grinning, and leaned back a little, putting his hands on the bleachers behind
him, "Yeah, but I don't sleep much. Never have, and less now, and I don't know what I'm
taking anyway. Besides, I saw you sneaking out and got curious."

The girl sniffed, looking away as her face darkened a bit in the spotty moonlight, "It's
nothing- I just wanted to go for a fly."

"In the cold... wearing less than you were before?"

Katie shot him a small glare, "None of your business what I do, Potter. Yes, I like flying at
night. No, I don't mind the cold with warming charms."

"Your nipples are erect."

The statement clearly caught her off-guard, because Katie wavered, almost falling from her
broom for a moment before she glanced down, then looked up with the same amount of
annoyance and even more embarrassment thrown in, "It- it is a bit cold..."

Harry smiled, "And you aren't wearing a bra. You probably were, earlier."

"I like the breeze, okay? Geez... pervert."

Harry laughed out loud, "Of course I am- I'm a bloke. Didn't paint you as one, but... Come
on, Katie? Why the hostility? I haven't attacked you or anything. I was just watching you fly-
you're damned good at it."

Still, the girl's eyes narrowed, "Did- did you s- see?"

"See you fly?" Harry asked, cocking his head slightly, "Yeah, I just said that."

"No, not- not that. Um... never mind. If you don't know..."

She looked away, and Harry suddenly figured it out. He let out another laugh, pulled out his
wand, and said, "Accio Katie!"

She flew toward him quickly, but only about half-way before she caught herself on the broom
with a yelp, "What the hell, Potter?"

Now, though, she was within arm's reach, so Harry took hold of the end of her Cleansweep
and slowly angled it down, making her slide forward a little. He watched, fascinated, as her
eyes fluttered. Oh... oh, that's good to know. "Katie, can we... talk?"

She frowned, opened her eyes, and yanked the broom out of his hands all at once, drifting a
few feet higher in the process. "I don't know what you'd want to talk about. Besides, it's not
like I haven't heard the rumors, you know. Alicia was one of my best friends."

Harry grinned, leaning back again, "You believe rumors?"

"I believe Alicia."

He nodded, "Good. You should trust your friends. Look, I really do mean to talk. I just have a
few questions."

Katie frowned, looking down at his own trousers which were slightly tented, then steered to
his left and dismounted. "Fine. We can talk. What?"

"Sit," he urged, patting the bench beside him, "You seem tense. Relax."

She did so reluctantly, but Harry stood up a moment later and, with a hand on her shoulder,
stepped behind the girl, sitting down again, and started to rub. "I'll stop if you want me to," he
told her, "At any point. I won't force anything on you."

"Like you didn't just yank me out of the air, then... ooh... that- that feels pretty nice," Katie
said, leaning back and into his hands, "You... okay, you can keep doing that."

That it provided an ample opportunity for Harry to stare at the older witch's chest from
above, even see a hint of areolae and yes, erect nipples through the rain splatters on her white
shirt, was just a side benefit, because Harry found he really did enjoy doing this for his
friends. "So... yeah, you seem stressed. I know it's your N.E.W.T. year, but is there anything
else going on? Anything you want to talk about?"

"N- no," Katie murmured, "Just... family things. I didn't have a good summer, that's all."

"Mm. Sorry to hear that- mine was damned good, actually," Harry told her, "but I won't bore
you with the details."

"Like getting your Godfather cleared, and moving in with him? And shagging that transfer
girl?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned shamelessly, "things like that. God, she's gorgeous, you know? I mean,
you are too, but..."

Below him, Katie snorted, "Right, pull the other one. I don't-"

Harry's hands on her shoulders stopped, "You are," he said firmly, "and don't question it,
please. If you turned around you'd be able to see how gorgeous you are- there's evidence."

She was quiet for a moment as his hands resumed, then she murmured, "I don't need to see a
teenage boy's cock staring me in the face, thanks. No matter how good Alicia said it was."

Harry grinned, "She said that to you, huh?"

Katie nodded. "Before..."

And suddenly, Harry remembered why her summer wouldn't have been good. "Oh, shit," he
whispered, "you were... best friends. I didn't think about that in context. I'm sorry. I miss her,
too, and not... not because of the sex. I know you two were really close, but I counted her as a
friend, too."
Katie sniffled, "I... I don't regret going to the funeral," she whispered, "it's just... it's been
hard. Knowing she's gone. And... sorry I glared at you. We're friends, you- you and me. It
just- reminded me. Sorry I took it out on you."

"No," Harry murmured, "I don't- mind. You should have a chance to vent your feelings. I can
handle it. If you want to yell at someone, you can yell at me. Hate me if you want."

His hands kept moving, and Katie reached up to take one, giving it a warm squeeze, "I don't,"
she whispered, "And Alicia would be mad at me if I did. I just... miss her. We... we had so
many plans for- for the future. Things we wanted to do, places to visit... we were going to get
married, you know?"

His hands froze. "You- and her? To- together?"

Katie nodded, "Yeah, over in Uganda, where Angelina's family is from. Next summer, after I-
after I graduated. It's legal there. Now..."

"I didn't know you preferred women," he murmured, "Sorry. Alicia never..."

Katie snorted, "You're daft, Harry- we, meaning me, Alicia, Angelina, and the Weasley
Twins. All of us, together. It's... a thing. I don't mind fucking boys, too. I just... I'm not in the
mood often these days. Things are... harder."

He nodded, "I understand, I think. So... I know it's probably early. Have you... made any
different plans?"

She looked up at him, then shrugged beneath his hands, "No. I will. I won't just... pine, and
stop living. Alicia would be so mad if I did. But... I love her, and I miss her. Angelina, the
twins... I like them, and I like the sex, but... it's not the same, not without her."

Thinking of the dark-skinned, older witch being taken from both sides by Ron's older
brothers made Harry's cock jump in his pants again, but Katie just gave another wistful sort
of sniff, and lifted her head to the clouds that had once again started to part due to the stiff
wind. "I suppose when I graduate I'll have some idea what to do. But no, I have no plans. No
one I'm really interested in. It's just... everything's dull."

Harry got an idea. One that maybe, just maybe, could help. It was risky, though.

"Katie... you know how I've been... different, lately?"

She grinned, "Become a man-whore?"

He nodded, smiling back down at her, and making sure she saw him stare down her blouse,
too, "Yeah, that. Um... there's a reason for it. A friend I made. She... no, let me ask a different
way. She can be Alicia. Look like her... feel like her. Maybe act like her, at least some. If... if
you think it would help, you could talk to her, in a way. Hell, make love to her. I don't know.
If you think it would help. I don't want it to hurt you, so I'm sorry if bringing up the idea...
hurts. It's not her, I can't bring her back of course, but this friend can look like her. Be her, as
far as I can tell, down to the last detail physically, and she's damned good at mimicry.
Maybe... maybe it could give you a chance to say goodbye."

"That sounds... hard," Katie whispered, bringing her hands beneath her chest and shivering,
though he could tell from the heat emanating from her body that the warming charm was still
very active, "but... but it might help. Can I... think about it?"

"Sure," Harry murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the girl's dark hair. "Any time
you want, let me know and I'll arrange it if you want. If you don't, consider the matter
dropped, okay?"

She nodded once, then reached up and took his hand again, "You're a good friend, Harry."

He was a bit surprised when she dragged that hand down to cup her breast. "Katie...?"

"Feels good," she said with a one-armed shrug, "got me... more randy. Besides, the... talking
helped. More than I expected it to. You can... touch me. If you want. If I'm... good enough."

"You're more than good enough," he whispered, sliding forward from the bench to kneel
behind her, and whispered in Katie's ear, "You're the first girl I had a wet dream about. Did
you know that?"

She shuddered, "N- no."

But, with her permission now, Harry was happy to push both arms down her front, cupping
both modest, perky breasts from above, giving each a simultaneous squeeze, then harder one
at a time, before leaning in to nuzzle her neck, "How far d'you want to go, Katie?" he asked,
"I'll only go that far, no farther."

She shrugged again, tilting her head to give him easier access, so Harry leaned in further to
nibble, lick, and then lightly bite the soft blush below her ear while his hands continued
fondling the witch's chest, which was modest but quite firm, even aerodynamic. "We can
fuck, if you want," she eventually said, "It's... been a while. I wasn't randy. Haven't been in
the mood since... that day. But now I kind of..."

Harry grinned, Not even any Fog necessary. Okay... He continued to nibble at the young
woman's neck while one hand drifted further down to grab at the waist of her skirt, fisting in
it though he didn't move it, and Katie leaned further back against him, pressing her damp,
cold blouse against his shirt. Then he lifted the hand on her chest and moved up, then back
down beneath the collar as her breathing increased in speed.

Katie reached up to undo two buttons as he cupped one breast, easily holding it in his hand,
enjoying how the inside of the soft flesh, like her torso, was warm but the skin itself was cool
to the touch, and rolled the nipple between his fingers and thumb.

He was surprised again when, the buttons undone, Katie's free hand, the one not wrapping
around his neck and pulling him further into hers, took his lower arm by the wrist and
brought it to the hem of her skirt, then up to trail along the inside of her thigh.
Heat, and in the lessening breeze, a waft of arousal.

Harry grinned, "No knickers, huh? Is that what you were asking if I'd seen?"

Katie moaned, "Like the breeze," she reminded him, head rolling on her shoulders as he
continued to suckle there, "feels good... like the broom."

"You were getting off while flying?"

She grinned, he could feel the muscles pulling against his cheek, "Y- yeah. Best thing I'd had
since that- that day."

"You don't have to do it alone," he told her, "Never again, if you want."

"Sometimes it's fun. You can put them on me, Potter... finger me, don't tease."

He grinned against her, biting the neck harder and sucking the flesh between his teeth to
leave a mark while his lower hand, which had circled her twat but not touched it directly
beneath her skirt, twisted to cup it. The middle finger, pinky, and thumb molded themselves
perfectly to the obscured folds, and the first knuckle of his longer digit slipped into her snatch
with ease. "You're really wet," he chuckled after letting go, proud of the hickey she'd be
sporting the next day, thankfully mostly hidden by her thick, dark brown hair.

"Good," she muttered, "that'll make it easier to take you."

"So... you want to go all the way?"

Katie nodded, turning her head now to face his, and pressed her forehead against him, lips
moving on his lips as she replied, "Wanted it since early fifth year, when I saw how
handsome you were getting. Would've put out if you'd ever had the balls to ask back then."

Harry grinned, shrugged a bit sheepishly, then removed the hand from her blouse to start
undoing his own trousers. Once he was free, Harry sat back on the bench, and gave Katie,
who was now touching herself beneath the skirt instead, a wink, "Come on, then. Have a seat
on my broom."

"Is it better than your Firebolt?" Katie chuckled, rising and stepping up the bench herself,
before turning back around and lowering herself onto his lap. "This was kinda fun, having
you back there."

It took a few tries before she had the angle right, but as she sank onto Harry's dick, Katie
moaned and leaned back against him again, beginning with slow little gyrations of her hips
with him mostly, not fully, inside her. "D- damn... feels like I've got Dean in me," she
moaned, "I heard... he was the biggest in your year."

"I'm bigger," Harry assured her, "Both down and across. Good size, though, if you want...
him."

Katie shook her head, "N- no. He's an okay flyer, but... you're b-b-ette-r."
The stutter was caused by Harry's hand on her clit, moving gently as she gyrated, bringing
what he thought was probably her first orgasm in months.

Once the aftershocks had begun to fade, Katie started lifting herself on him, gasping as his
veins and cap stroked at her g-spot, then came back down slowly, groaning as he filled her
once more. "Shit, Potter..."

Harry let her do the work, as she seemed to enjoy it, and Katie alternated between moving up
and down for ten or twenty strokes, and gyrating her hips in a circle as he continued caressing
her body, now with one hand beneath the blouse from below, the other moving on her thighs,
or up her sides.

True, it was late, but like with his first experience with Ginny, Harry knew that there was a
chance, however small, they could be caught at any moment. Hagrid, if no one else,
sometimes wandered the grounds at night, too.

While she continued to ride him with increasing abandon, Harry's mind seemed to almost
split in two, between being caught in the moment, and wondering how his first Wizarding
friend, even before Ron, would react to knowing he'd summoned and bound a Succubus. If,
that was, he didn't already know. He had to wonder, mostly, because there was the high
chance of disapproval- the 'dark' aspect of the magic, much less the sex- but also because he
knew Hagrid to be quite fascinated with magical creatures of all sorts, and Lilith was nothing
if not a magical creature.

From there, his mind drifted to imaginary images of Lilith, as Lyra, or herself in any of her
usual forms, bouncing on a shaft as big as Harry's whole arm, and he grinned. Maybe he
could convince Hagrid it wasn't so bad, if he was upset about it?

Katie groaned again, her body falling forward as she came for the second time, barely
catching herself on the lower bench with her arms. Harry, attention once more fully in the
moment, started moving more himself, fucking into her from behind while her pants grew
louder, more ragged. "Getting closer," he told the girl, "I can finish... soon. How d'you want
me to do it, Katie?"

She didn't answer, only started throwing herself back on him with abandon, face lifted to the
sky, enraptured, as her moans turned to gasps and short, truncated cries. "Ha- Ha- Har- Harr-"

Her sudden switch from controlled to wanton was too much, and Harry's climax neared
precipitously fast, "Cumming," he warned the girl, trying to give her a chance to pull away,
"Katie, I''m- you're making me-"

Her hips slammed against his harder still, and she stayed there, pussy walls quivering,
milking, as he gave a loud grunt of his own, and lost his grip on sanity. He filled her with the
first spurt, felt the heat wash to the tip of the girl's tight channel, just beyond his head, and
then flow back, coating his cock and mixing with her lubricant fluids. The next, stronger but
slower spurt, Harry felt welling from within his balls and slam outward in what felt like a
bulge up his urethra and out, and Katie grunted as it hit her cervix, her hips grinding back
against him further as she keened, "F-uuuck!"
Over the next several seconds, she slowly pushed herself upright, Harry still sheathed within
her, and raised, then lowered her body a few more times, muscles trembling in slow ripples
along her entire frame, before standing and pulling off completely. Harry watched, amazed,
as she turned toward him with her skirt raised, to show the wizard his cum running in huge
rivulets down her thighs, or swinging in several strings from her labia minora. "That was
great, Harry," Katie sighed, leaning down to kiss him again with one hand on his chin, the
other still holding up her skirt, "Now... go to bed. I need a shower."

He grinned, "Want some company?"

She laughed, kissed him again, then stood up and reached for her broom, shoving it between
her legs and grinding his seed along about a foot of its length with a sultry smile, "No... we'd
not get in before breakfast. Go on. I'll be fine."

"Alright, Katie," he told her, standing up and leaning in to kiss her, in turn, with one hand on
her arse, "but I meant what I said. Any time. And the thing with- my friend."

She smiled and nodded, "Go."

Harry returned to the Gryffindor dormitory to find Lilith the only one awake, as usual, sitting
on the edge of his bed, looking curious. "Have fun, Master?"

He smiled, nodding as he glanced about the room. Neville and Seamus' curtains were drawn,
Ron's wide open along with Harry's own, and Dean's half-so, but he could still tell the black
boy was nude, like Ron, though his best friend was beneath the blankets. "Enjoy both?"

Lilith shook her head, "No... Ron, yes. You don't seem to mind if I fuck him whenever. You
don't, right?"

Harry shook his head after a moment's thought, "No... but make sure he has some energy for
Hermione, too."

"Of course," Lilith said with a smile, "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Harry replied while undressing, shameless to be nude before her now, after all they'd
done.

She waited until he was in the bed with her before taking his cock in her mouth and licking it
a few times, back to full mast, before climbing astride him and starting to ride in slow
movements a lot like Katie had before, as her body shrank from Ron's favorite shape to his. "I
want more sex."

He frowned, "From me?"

"Yes, from you," Lilith laughed, "but from everyone. I want to... I want free reign. Anyone I
want."

Harry deliberated, "Um... is that... necessary? I mean..."

"I want to feel Dean in my ass," Lilith said, leaning over him as her body morphed into
Ginny's, "and you in my cunt, while Ron ruts on my face like an animal. I want to fuck your
friend Hagrid, like your dirty little mind was thinking of a few minutes ago. I want to feel
Lavender's little throat stretching on my massive cock, too. I don't want McGonagall, or
Dumbledore, if that's what you're thinking. Sexy people, or at least people who can still enjoy
it."

He frowned, "But... you're mine."

"And I still will be," she cooed, morphing into Hermione, then Hannah and then Susan,
before shrinking down to Tracey, which made her even tighter on his cock, "always. But I
want to operate in the open. Like with Ron."

"Lilith," he sighed, "Lyra was invented for a reason, remember?"

"Sure," she murmured, beginning to bounce faster as she changed to that form, too, for a few
strokes before becoming Lilian Vergot, the 'case worker' he'd had for a while during the
summer, "and that's fine- but your friends are trustworthy, mostly. I can encourage them to be
more trustworthy, with my body if nothing else. Come on... tell me you aren't getting a bit
bored, just fucking the same people. Even if you keep adding more, slowly."

"Well," Harry muttered thoughtfully, "I... I don't know if bored is the right word, but... that
three- foursome sounds fun."

"And there's so much more," Lilith cooed, "So many things we can do.... There's a potion that
can let me fuck you as a woman... or lesbians."

"Polyjuice," he said thoughtfully, "I'm familiar, remember?"

She smiled, "Imagine... two Hermiones, or two of Ginny, grinding their hot little pussies on
each other..." The Succubus smiled as his cock swelled again inside her, giving him another
grind, "and then taking your big cock and my even bigger one... or Hagrid. Shit... that man's
got to be huge."

Lilith shuddered on him, experiencing a small orgasm that made her eyes roll back in her
head briefly, and Harry smiled, "Okay, fine, I'm convinced. Maybe not openly- but among
people I've... been with, you can show them what you are. Okay? The roommates, too. Not
all the room-mates. I'm not sure we can trust Ginny's, or... whatever, but mine and probably
Hermione's are okay."

"Thank you, Master," Lilith cooed, "And as a reward, a treat. Don't get all squicky... enjoy it
for what it is. Dean certainly enjoyed his wank..."

Harry watched, eyes wide, as Lilith rose completely off him, then her body morphed once
more from Lilian's to a much smaller one, smaller even than his favorite, down...

He couldn't believe she'd gone so far. The Succubus was... her body couldn't have been older
than twelve, maybe a year or two younger, flat-chested, just barely starting to bud, with not a
single pubic hair, and the most innocent face, framed by curly blonde hair, lightly dusted with
freckles.

"Daddy," the child-Lilith cooed, "make me feel like Mommy..."

Then he watched, both horrified and extremely aroused, as the tiny folds opened wide,
impossibly so, for his dick, stretching and stretching. He was wider even than the cleft
between the girl's legs, but she still sank down, and down, impossibly tight, but so hot and so
wet...

He felt a hymen tear when just his cap was inside, and she had further still to go. But the little
girl's body sank down even more, until her little, thin, spindly legs were folded up against
her, feet on his stomach, and pelvis sitting on his, eyes scrunched shut with pain... and maybe
pleasure, too. "Thank you, Daddy," Lilith whispered, and Harry's cock gave an unbidden
lurch.

He watched it, saw the bulge, clear up to between the child-Succubus' nipples and an inch
past even them, her entire body necessary to take his whole length.

Then she started to move, and Harry experienced pleasure such as he never had, as the
Succubus' insides, impossible for any human to match, molded to him, formed tiny, slick
fingers to caress him like her mouth had done that one strange day, and she bounced and
writhed vigorously, crying out his name in a shrill, high voice, "Ma-aster! D-daddy Harry!
Daddy, daddy! It feels so gooood, Daddy Harry!"

It was too much. Within two minutes, hating himself for fucking a child like that, Harry had
picked Lilith up, shoved her down into the bed, and started hammering away, out of control,
heedless of her 'pained' cries, wanting only to make the pleasure increase.

And it did, crashing over him in a colossal wave of self-recrimination and ecstasy, as his
magically-enhanced penis made his semen gush out of the no longer virginal cunt.

As his orgasm slowed, Harry felt the loathing begin to take precedence...

Until he looked down at the child-like face, and saw only adoration and approval shimmering
in Lilith's eyes, her hair still golden but the eyes and shape of the jaw unmistakably hers.
"Thank you, Master, for taking me," she whispered.

His thick dick, covered in himself and her and what passed for bright red blood, pulled away,
and he took the girl by her legs, pushing them up to frame her head so that her little body was
arched upward. He reached two fingers into her stretched-out twat, scooped their mixed
blood and fluids, then jammed them into her eager mouth, before lifting her, by the legs and
holding them open, upside-down like a doll to push his face into the gap.

It was strange, a part of him thought, to enjoy licking up his own jizz, but he did, eating out
the tiny pussy with relish until she, too, was clean of the colossal mess, while the tiny body
twisted and reached out, upside-down, to suckle at the end of his cock, using suction and
little hands alone to pull out what she could from his pipe and the top half- all she could
reach.
Then he put her back down, folded her legs again, and held them with one hand while the
other pushed his raging erection down once more. "Enjoy, baby girl," he heard himself
whisper, "Mommy likes this, too."

She whimpered, choking back a scream, as he slammed his entire, nine-inch dick into her
rectum, and didn't let up for several minutes, until the tight convulsions had him filling her
body once more, lost to the haze of lust and pleasure.

When Harry was himself again, Lilith was lying against him in her guise as Lyra, a hand idly
stretching some of his cum between her fingers, dangling it over her flicking tongue. "That
was..."

"Amazing," she cooed, turning to give him a kiss, "I loved watching you lose control,
Master... using me like that."

"I was going to say 'dirty as fuck', he retorted quietly, pulling her close. "Why the... the
child?"

"Dean," she murmured, "He's... got predilections. I don't know if he'd act on them. Somehow,
I doubt it, but he does like girls younger than him. Obviously, if it was a real girl that age,
there would be problems, but as I'm not... I enjoyed it."

"I did, too," Harry admitted, pulling her close to giving the Succubus a light kiss on the nose,
"more than... than I thought I would. Not an every-day thing, though, for sure."

Lilith- Lyra- nodded. "What...what about being called... Daddy?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't... it was weird, but I didn't mind. Caught me off guard."

"If you had a gorgeous sister," Lilith whispered, "Would you want her, too?"

Harry froze. "I... I don't know how to answer that," he finally said, completely honestly.

"Okay. Night, Master... Daddy."

He snorted, then closed his eyes, putting the matter from his mind for the moment, knowing
she would shut the curtains if she cared. Not that the others were shy about nudity anymore,
not after Lilith had been around them for two months the last semester, even if it was the first
night back.

His last thought before drifting away was, What a night, though.
 First Rounds and a Round of Firsts
Chapter Summary

Several firsts, for several things. Not much more to say, just enjoy. ;)

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG.

Chap. 26: First Rounds and a Round of Firsts

Harry, nude and slightly sticky, had slept in until half-way through breakfast, an hour before
the first classes would start, before rising from bed, throwing the curtains wide to see Ron
still laying beneath his covers, in his own bed with the curtains half-open, lazily watching the
sunlight creep across the otherwise darkened room. "Mo- Moorrnin, 'Arry," his best mate said
with a lazy yawn, smacking his lips. "Other's are gone. Hermione's got Runes. Any plans?"

Harry stepped out, ignoring how Ron's eyes rolled as he stood without bothering with
clothing, and bent to gather clothes from his trunk. "Shower first. Then breakfast, maybe, but
I'm not really hungry. After that... I donno. Maybe hang out in the rooms downstairs, if I don't
have a class?"

"Maybe," Ron said, closing his eyes and rolling onto his back, clearly scratching at his
stomach and then reaching down to give his morning wood a few strokes beneath the blanket,
apparently having decided that Harry already knew his intimate self well enough not to be
bothered, too. "Be more fun with a girl or two there."

"I know," Harry nodded, "but... shit. I just remembered- we need to get our schedules. Get up,
we gotta hurry."
"Damn," Ron said, throwing the blankets off, still erect, and rushed to his own trunk as Harry
dashed toward the showers.

While the two washed, as quickly as they could, in the barely-separated stalls, Harry asked,
"So how come you didn't already go down? I know you like a lie-in, but being late for
breakfast..."

"Donno," Ron called back through the steam, "just wasn't that hungry today, either. Maybe
it's those Runes? Didn't Lilith say somethin' about not needing to eat or sleep as much? I've
been awake later and getting up earlier, too."

"That's right... I'd forgotten. If we- what the- Hermione? Not that I'm complaining, but..."

In the stall two away, he heard a yelp and a crash as Ron, startled, slipped and fell to the
floor. Harry, though, was more concerned with their other friend, who was leaning against the
half-wall that kept the spray (mostly) from getting into the loo areas, blouse half undone and
vest missing, grinning with her chin on her hands. "Don't mind me," she called, "I'm just
enjoying the show from my two studly boyfriends."

He might have been a bit more okay with displaying himself for Harry, and Harry had gotten
over it completely, but Ron still seemed quite embarrassed to be 'on display' for Hermione,
because he was hiding himself with both hands as he stood up, making sure he was mostly
hidden by the booth wall as he stuck his head out, "What're you doin' in here? Blimey!"

"I already said," Hermione smiled and made a kissing motion with her mouth, then reached
into her breast pocket and pulled out a few pieces of parchment, "Course lists, I told
Professor McGonagall I'd bring them up to you since you were late. Luckily, she seems to
have forgotten that I'm not to be trusted around you anymore."

Harry grinned as he started rinsing, and called, "So, you gonna join us, or are we coming out
there?"

She debated while Ron sputtered a bit, then stood up, "Oh... I've already showered once, but I
have classes, so I'm not staying. Sorry. Maybe Lil- Lyra can entertain you when she gets back
from... wherever she went. I was surprised she wasn't sucking your dicks when I came in, to
be honest."

"There's an idea," Ron muttered, quietly enough Harry wasn't sure their girlfriend (the term
was apt, even if it still felt weird to say it like that and not feel possessive) could have
possibly heard.

"Anyway," Hermione said, standing fully upright, "I'll leave your lists on your trunks. Don't
take too long. You both have a free period while I have Runes, and another after lunch, but
you'll want to review for DADA and Potions, I'm sure."

As she left, Ron called, "Neither of us got an O in Potions, remember?"

"I looked at your schedules!" the girl yelled back, and a moment later Harry heard the door of
their room shut.
He toweled off quickly, and dressed in the loo area before entering the dormitory room itself.
It might have been empty when they got into the shower, and now, but he knew for a fact that
his other roommates, Dean, Seamus, and Neville, didn't have Ancient Runes either, so they
might be coming back to have a kip, or hang out, or get books for DADA.

Harry glanced down at his trunk with a frown as he picked up the list, looking it over. "How
did that get up here, anyway? I mean, that elf took it to the staff suite last night. But I think it
was here when I came back, too. Ron's never did show up in his room down there."

He put the question from his mind for the moment as he looked over the list. "Okay, so
Hermione was right, as usual," he murmured to himself as he crouched and opened his trunk
again, fishing out books as he went so they would be in the right order, a trick he'd picked up
from Hermione to save a little time. "DADA, then double Potions today, tomorrow starts with
Double Herbology, Transfiguration before lunch, then Double Charms and the last period
before dinner is free. Lots of free time, it looks like- I'm gonna get a lot of action this year,"
he chuckled toward Ron as he stepped out, pants on but shirtless and still toweling his thick,
long ginger hair.

"Howzat?"

Harry shrugged, "Check your schedule, you'll figure it out. Wednesday starts with a Free
period, then Herbology and Charms, then the Double DADA and a free period again.
Thursday... Charms, then all three of us have a free period together, which is when they'd be
doing Divination and History. Glad we're skipping those."

"Too right," Ron muttered darkly, "I can nap in free periods better anyway, my bed's a lot
softer than the desks."

Harry laughed, placed those books in order too, and kept on. "Transfiguration before lunch,
too, then Potions after, but then Hermione has two periods, Runes and Arithmancy, so we can
look elsewhere. Friday's a busy day for both of us. Potions, Herbology, and DADA before
lunch, then a free hour, and double Transfiguration before dinner. No Astronomy, though, so
our nights are free at least."

"Except for homework," Ron said with a shrug as he plopped onto his bed to pull on socks
and shoes, then started gathering up his own books while Harry put on his. "You know
Hermione's still going to make us keep up on that."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "And it's supposed to be easier than last year, but I'm holding judgment
on that. I don't think she'll be as uptight toward the end, though, since I've barely heard of
anyone being dropped between sixth and seventh year courses."

"Charlie did," Ron shrugged as he stood up with a mostly-empty bag, holding only his pair of
notebooks, his new-to-him DADA book, and a few sweets he'd somehow saved over the
summer, "in Herbology. Didn't need it, but... he got lazy, figured it wasn't worth doing the rest
of the work since he didn't need the grade."

Harry pursed his lips as he started for the door, "Yeah, but that doesn't fit us. I'm not entirely
sure I want to be an Auror any more, to be honest, but I'll still go for those courses because I
like them all except Potions, and without Snape teaching them it might be better."

"I liked Professor Black," Ron grinned as he fell into step beside him going down the stairs,
easily catching up with his longer stride, "she was pretty fit for an older lady. A real WIF."

Harry missed half a step, "What's a wiff? Like a missed cast?"

"No," Ron laughed, "Heard it from Seamus last night- he called her that, in fact. Means a
'Witch I'd Fuck', apparently."

Harry snorted, dropping his voice a little as they heard a few others in the common room
below, some making their way up the stairs, "There's a whole lot of those for me."

"Me too, mate, me too," Ron agreed with another laugh, shifting to the side to let a couple of
seventh-years, already looking harassed, dash up the stairs for their own books.

"Also, you know that's Tonks' mum, right?"

Ron paused-mid step, turning slightly green for a moment, then shrugged. "Doesn't change
that she's fit. I mean, rather her daughter, but Lyra can do the same thing, right?"

"That she can," Harry chuckled.

When they arrived, the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom door was side open, and a
light, cheerful chatter could be heard from a few of the more studious students, though Harry
and Ron were among the first few to arrive. Only Hermione and three Ravenclaws, a witch
he didn't know who must have been roommates with the other witch of the group, Padma
Patil, and both Michael Corner and Terry Boot, each of whom had been at the Ministry at the
end of the previous year along with Anthony Goldstein.

Harry shot them both a somber nod as he remembered the fallen once more, but as they
nodded back, each gave him a little smile, and the 'chosen one' felt a small bit of the building
guilt wash away as he moved to sit next to Hermione, with Ron taking the other side of the
long desk she had clearly claimed for them. "Stop for some fun?" she asked quietly from the
spot at the front right, as Harry looked around the room.

"No," he murmured, "just came straight down once we were ready- weren't sure how long we
had. Any sign of Dumbledore?"

Hermione shook her head, "Nope."

"He'll be here," Ron said with a shrug and a grin, leaning back in his chair, "unless he forgot."

As the remaining students trickled in, most of them in a hurry as usual at the beginning of the
year, Harry took a more careful look around the room. The last time it had been this bright
was their second year, with Lockhart 'teaching', but there wasn't a hint of lilac in sight, and
even Dumbledore's usual bright or royal colors were absent. Instead, a few pictures of
dueling pistes, some full and some not, lined the back wall, while, much more fascinating to
Harry, moving pictures of actual Wizarding battles, some in black and white and a few in
color, in all sorts of environments- deserts, plains, forests, and even a couple of city streets or
inside buildings, adorned the opposite wall, while the longer wall across from the three tall
windows held several complex diagrams he vaguely recognized in style from Hermione's
Arithmancy homework.

The dais that led to the Professor's office was open, and from within, Harry noticed a faint
flash of green light as a woosh caught his attention. He turned forward with wide eyes and a
smile as Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room wearing robes of midnight blue with
little twinkling stars adorning it but without his usual tall hat, brushing soot from his
shoulders. "My apologies for my tardiness, students, I was held up in a meeting with
Professor McGonagall. I shall hurry through the roll-call, I believe, until we are finished, and
we will go from there. I'm afraid that I don't know nearly half of you half as well as you
probably think you deserve, but... we'll remedy that over the coming semester, won't we?"

"The Hobbit," he heard Hermione whisper, and Harry saw Dumbledore's eyes twinkle as he
glanced in the witch's direction.

"So, in no particular order..."

As Dumbledore read out the roll, Harry was surprised to see that, unnoticed by him until
then, there were not only several Ravenclaws in the class, but also Slytherins and a couple of
Hufflepuffs, each of whom he recognized. So Susan, Hannah, and Ernie made it in, and I'm
glad Daphne did, but I'm a bit surprised to see Milly, Tracey, and Pansy. Not so much Draco,
Crabbe, Goyle, or Nott. I notice Zabini isn't here, or the rest of the Slytherins in our year.

"So," Dumbledore continued as he set down the parchment with his roll on it and gestured
throughout the room, "This year, as you might be able to guess, we will be studying that one
subject most students in their youth are eager to learn- combat between witches and wizards.
Toward the rear, you will notice several portraits or pictures of dueling pistes as they have
matured throughout the years to the present day. We will spend approximately one month on
dueling etiquette and rules, before moving on to more battlefield-style combat toward the end
of the year. Between them, expect to do a great deal of studying, both with homework and
practice.

"You will be learning a great number of spells this year, and I hope, a modicum of restraint
with them. Moreso, I hope that those of you in my N.E.W.T.-level classes will learn that any
spell can be harmful if used in certain ways, and take that into account when one might be
about to target a fellow student, or any other creature. Finally and least, though it has served
me well, we will also be discussing at length creativity, that most evasive of skills for any
magical being."

Hermione, between he and Ron, was positively vibrating, but Harry couldn't fault her. He was
sitting up straighter, too, his pulse already racing with the knowledge Dumbledore was
teasing them with.

"So, to begin, let us first go over nonverbal spells. Would someone like to define- ah, yes,
Miss Granger?"

As Hermione rattled off, to her credit, not just a by-the-book rote reply but her own take on
the subject from, no doubt, her experiments to cast that way early, Harry smiled, listening just
as attentively to her.

"An excellent answer, Miss Granger. Take five points to Gryffindor- an excellent start. Yes,
she is correct. Nonverbal spells..."

Ron groaned in frustration, tossing his wand to the coffee table before the couch they were
sitting on in the small, comfortable common room of the private, staff quarters Harry had
been assigned to accommodate his extracurricular activities in an effort to keep them discreet.
"I give up. Nonverbal spells are hard. I don't know how Mum and Dad do them... even the
twins picked up on 'em super fast, but..."

Harry frowned, not for the first time, and more gently set his wand aside, too. "There's got to
be something we're missing. I'm fine with waiting for Hermione, though. She's got it figured
out- did you see how quick she got it?"

"Yeah," Ron shrugged, without a hint of the annoyance that was so present in previous years
at her studious nature and learning curve, "good thing we've got her to help. Merlin, I'm
randy... that's what's distracting me, I'm sure."

Harry nodded, "Me too. I wonder where Lilith is."

He jumped as a mental call came back a moment later, suffused with a sense of amusement
and arousal, "In the first room on the left, Master. Waiting for you. Bring Ron if he wants to...
come."

Harry stood up, grinning widely, and already throwing his robes off his shoulders to let them
fall on the couch, "Come on, let's go find her."

"Brilliant," Ron sighed, repeating the gesture but also adjusting himself in his trousers as he
circled the table after Harry, "Isn't this the room Hermione chose...?"

Harry shrugged as he put his hand on the knob, "None of your trunks came down with mine,
so I guess the rooms are variable or somethin- oh. Hi, Lilith."

"Good morning, Master, Ron," the Succubus grinning down at them from where she hovered,
wings barely visible as she flapped in Harry's preferred form, from the center of the ceiling.
The room was clearly not a bedroom anymore, though there was a bed in it. Sort of, anyway.
A frame, metallic, held two mattress without sheets or blankets off the floor, and had no foot-
board, though it had four short posts, a dozen feet to the left of the obviously space-expanded
room. Against the wall behind that, a large wooden cross in the shape of an X, human-sized,
held several straps for ankles and wrists. To the right, a long wooden structure, polished
smooth, was shaped like a triangle on the smaller ends with long panels down at least the
sides, with slightly rounded corners Harry guessed were about a quarter-inch wide, with a
few other straps hanging from the high ceiling above it. At the center, where Lilith hovered,
another longer chain sprouted from the stone itself, from which a series of smaller leather
straps came down in what looked, to Harry, like a tangled mess with one wider strap, a foot
on one dimension and two on the other, hung from four of the smaller straps.
Lilith finished fixing the ring that held that contraption on the larger hook at the center of the
room, then dropped down as her wings began to shrink and vanish. "Keep them," Harry
urged, glancing at Ron, "You don't mind?"

"Nah," his best mate grinned, already pushing down his trousers as Lilith walked toward
them, tail swishing and wings now flapping idly. When she reached the pair, Harry gestured
with his head toward Ron and pulled his own cock out, giving it a few slow strokes as the
Succubus sank to her knees.

"Do you want me to give you a blow-job better than you've ever had?"

Ron grinned at Harry for a moment, "You can start with that. It's been like, eleven hours. I'm
sure I can go a few, if we have time."

"Good," Lilith purred, reaching out a hand for Ron's long member, then letting the other
stroke her fingertips along his scrotum.

Harry stepped in and she eagerly reached out to add her hand to his, taking the tip with her
small digits as her mouth and throat morphed into what he knew to be the same bumpy,
tentacle-like orifice she'd said was from her own world, and sank her lips around Ron, taking
him all down her tiny throat, which Harry was delighted to see bulge down the entire length.
"Fucking hot," he murmured.

"Too right," Ron groaned, throwing his head back, his hands closing on Lilith's nub-like
horns and trying to pull her down further.

Harry watched her throat convulse in rings moving downward several times, and Ron
moaned, his body shaking as the pleasure rose further still. He stepped around, behind the
Succubus, and put a hand on her throat, feeling the hard length of his best friend through the
thin flesh, and grinned as he felt the short pseudopods ripple at his touch.

Ron, too, looked down, surprised, "Harry? I... I can feel your hand..."

The dark-haired wizard shrugged, giving the thin throat a squeeze, and Ron groaned again.
"Not touching it. Besides- remember when Hermione sucked us both? You weren't
complaining then."

"Nah, that- that was different," Ron gasped, "Shit... so fucking good already..."

Lilith, who hadn't yet moved from where her nose was buried against Ron's abdomen, purred
slightly as Harry leaned in over her, his other hand sinking down to pinch roughly at her left
teat and whisper, "Has he done you in the ass?"

"No, Master... no one, I think."

"It's time... for his next round. We're clear after lunch."

Whatever reply she would have sent was distracted as Ron's hips thrust forward and he
grunted, head crashing into Harry's softly, entire lanky body spasming wildly as he came
down Lilith's throat. Still she stayed on him as Ron's knees gave out and he sank down,
crawling beneath Harry's legs as she moved to keep her throat impaled by the long cock. The
ginger's eyes rolled back into his head before Lilith started pulling away, and she did so
slowly, so he kept jerking until she was off completely.

Then the Succubus showed her master her prize, a gigantic load of cum, before swallowing it
and letting her mouth resume a normal shape. "I made him cum twice, Master... did you
enjoy that, Ron?"

The only reply she got was, "Ghrrk," which made her and Harry laugh.

He picked her up bodily, making the Succubus giggle, and then walked her to the bed, turned,
and tossed her small body, still giggling, onto it before undressing and climbing on himself.
"No foreplay, Pet... I've waited long enough. Come here," he said, moving to the far side and
facing Ron, "spoon."

She gave one more giggle and a pleased smile, "Yes, of course," then as she did as he
commanded, shifting her body but not really lifting it from the bed with a few hops, quieter,
"Daddy..."

"Let's keep that private, for now," he murmured into her ear, fitting one arm beneath her
wing, the other tucked between them easily enough, to cup her sex, holding it wide as he
shifted his hips into position behind her and drove in.

As always, making love, any sex really, with the Succubus was amazing, and Harry felt like
he would never grow tired of it. But this time... it was different. She, until now, had always
been about pleasure. Fun, joy, experimentation, yes, all those things, but primarily in the way
of seeking out pleasure, physical gratification. She had even felt like his for a while now.

Something though, had changed. Maybe it was gradual, maybe it was sudden. Harry couldn't
really tell. But this time, sheathing himself in her moist cunt, was the first time that Lilith too
truly felt like home.

The young wizard grinned as he started to thrust, "I think I love you, you know," he
murmured, shooting Ron, still at last partially insensate though he was now holding onto his
still rock-hard dick with one hand, moving it slowly while he lay on the wooden floor, "And
not just your body and the sex. Like... Hermione."

Lilith didn't say anything, but her head turned as a small hand reached back to twist in his
uncontrolled hair, and she gave him a warm look before pressing a kiss to his nose, all she
could manage the way he was making her body bounce.

A few minutes later, just as Harry was getting ready to change positions, Ron pushed himself
to his feet and stepped, staggered really, toward the bed, looking dazed. "That... tha' was...
wow."

"Glad you enjoyed," Lilith said between pants.

"Sexy," Ron murmured, letting his eyes rove over the Succubus' small form, "Little body's
growing on me. Er... so to speak."
"Yours is for me, too," Harry admitted between thrusts himself, "You don't have to wait, you
know. Fuck her if you want."

Ron glanced at the hairless twat, split wide by his best friend's dick, and frowned, "N- nah, I
don't wanna be that close... like that. Maybe later."

Lilith pushed herself off of Harry, and he thought about protesting as the coaxing feeling of
her pussy on him left, but he already knew what she was planning. So he followed her,
throwing his legs nearly off the edge of the bed so his rump was half-on the (thankfully)
clean mattress, and Lilith climbed back on top of him, this time pressing her chest against his
as she mounted him, using her tail to guide his dick inside her.

Harry watched Ron's face as, her rear now facing him directly, she turned to look too as her
hands spread her firm arse cheeks. "There's another hole..."

Ron swallowed. "B- buggery? I... I've never..."

'Try it," both Lilith and Harry said at the same time.

Ron wavered, then nodded, and began shucking his own clothes. "Uh... don't you need,
like..."

"Lubrication?" Lilith asked.

He nodded, tip already prodding at the small pink star, which made Lilith sigh as her head
turned into Harry's neck. "I don't think she cares, mate," he grinned up at Ron, slowing his
thrusts to a crawl to ease the entrance, "Most girls would."

"Succubus," the ginger muttered, then, with a grimace of... something, maybe caution, maybe
trepidation, or even a bit of worry, he pushed in.

Harry was surprised to feel Ron's length slip inside the tiny body's rectum, the point where
the most pressure was as it rode from about half-way up his own cock to past the tip, slightly
to the left. "God," he muttered, feeling Lilith's body tense as her pussy tightened, fluttering in
a small orgasm around him, "Never... done that before, myself."

"DP, Double Penetration, your people- at least the Muggles- call it," Lilith murmured,
nibbling on Harry's collarbone.

Above her, Harry watched Ron's expression shift as he sank further inside still, watched as
the pert little buttocks were pressed up by his body as he leaned forward, and hands fell on
either side of Harry's head, making all three of them bounce. "So fucking tight," Ron gasped,
lowering his head to Lilith's hair and inhaling.

"Fuck her ass," Harry urged, moving himself, amazed at how different it felt to have a hard
rod changing the smooth, soft walls along just that one side, and picking up speed quickly.

"Yeah, fuck my tight little ass," Lilith cooed, diamond-hard nipples sliding on Harry's chest
as he started pushing her in time with Ron's own, slower thrusts, and Harry's shorter, faster
ones.
Ron started grunting, moving mostly his hips as he dragged himself in and out for several
minutes, Harry picking up his own pace until he felt like he was blurring, and was even
startled a few times as his swinging scrotum smacked against Ron's hanging one, but he was
too lost to care as his arms flew around the Succubus, holding her body tightly against him,
orgasm approaching fast.

He heard the noise of the door opening, and looked down just as Ron came again, and saw an
annoyed-looking Hermione's face twist into at least slight anger as she glanced about the
room and spotted them.

She didn't say anything, though, and in fact held a finger to her lips as she stepped closer.
Ron had slowed his thrusts, now making slow, short ones to ride out his long, third climax,
but Harry hadn't yet hit his, so he kept pounding away even as Ron's semen in Lilith's ass
increased the heat on his member even more and the wetness grew.

Hermione reappeared in Harry's focus to his left, on Ron's right, probably just at the edge of
his field of vision, then stepped away again and crouched down behind Ron, watching as he
slowly pulled out of the Succubus, half-flaccid cock clean of shite- Lilith did not have that
biological process, all the food she consumed was treated the same was as semen, shunted to
her home plane even if it wasn't useable- but dripping with his jizz.

She stayed there, watching, and so did Ron as Harry's orgasm blasted through him suddenly,
and his hips lifted completely off the bed a few inches, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the
smooth floor, and once more he felt his load dribble out around him, following down his
scrotum as the little body received more than it could hold.

Only as his hips settled back down did Hermione speak, making Ron jump and spin toward
her, "Now I'm jealous of the Succubus," she growled.

"H- Hermione! Sorry, I- wait..." Ron blinked, looking down at the girl, who was still wearing
her uniform, but only parts of it. Her skirt, socks, and shoes, and her blouse- which was open,
along with her bra, though the cloth still covered all but the narrow space between her
generous breasts. "You... I didn't think... you'd ever want it, you know... there."

"In my arse?" the witch asked, cocking an eyebrow as she looked down at Lilith, who
quivered atop Harry, still leaking fluids from both holes. "I'm always willing to experiment,
Ron. No- I'm jealous that, because I wanted to make sure you two ate a meal today, I missed
out!"

Harry grinned at Ron's dumbfounded expression, and rolled Lilith to the side where she fell
limply to the bed, grinning over at him, and sat up. "Sorry, Hermione... and thanks for
breakfast. Can we make it up to you?"

"Maybe," she muttered, glancing down at her own new watch, "but there's only five minutes
left of the meal, and then we only have one period before Double Potions, and I'll need to
shower."

"No you won't," Harry reminded her, "Lilith can clean you up, no matter what's left behind-
even yours, right Pet?"
"Mm... Master's right," Lilith purred, stretching luxuriously on the mattress, smiling widely
as all eyes fell on her nude form, "Already soaked up all they left behind, see?"

"Be that as it may," Hermione huffed, "they still need to eat, too. Both missed breakfast."

"True," Lilith grinned, "but you and I can have some fun, too. Can't we?"

Hermione flushed scarlet, and Ron looked excitedly at both of them, "Er... can I watch?"

"New rule," Harry said, raising his hand with a single finger up, "If Lilith wants to fuck
someone, she can, within reason. We discussed that last night. Rule number two: if I want to
watch, I can. Ron has permission this time, if Hermione doesn't object."

"I... I've never, um, been with... well, just a girl, before," Hermione muttered.

"What're you on about," Ron laughed, patting his stomach as it gurgled, then turned for the
main room in search of the promised food, "You ate out Lilith, and she ate out you, on that
day we tested the jealousy thing, remember?"

"He's right," Harry agreed, giving Hermione a pat on the shoulder, then the ass as he passed,
making her jump, "We'll leave you to it for a minute while we grab the food. Thanks again,
Hermione."

Once in the other room, both grabbed a pair of sandwiches quickly, but Harry had to hold an
arm in front of Ron to keep him from dashing back into the 'dungeon'. "Hold on, Ron. Give
them a second to talk. Besides... you'll have more time to see it."

"What'd'you mean, Harry?" Ron gasped, mouth full but also showing a great deal of shock,
"Two witches- or at least, two girls- going at it? You've gotta be barmy not to want to watch!"

"I do want to watch," Harry laughed, "but there'll be more opportunities, and I'm not missing
out on this one, nor are you. Just... relax. Let Lilith convince Hermione it'll be alright, so she
can relax and enjoy it, that's all. We'll see the good stuff, I promise. Besides... there's more
coming. Didn't you see that stuff? I have an idea what it's all for... and I know this was your
first anal thing, but believe you me, Lilith has... well, let's just say that, in the last few days,
she's proven to have a lot to teach us still."

"Wicked," Ron breathed out, taking another bite and chewing it rapidly, then swallowing
before he cast his eyes to the still-open door, "Reckon they're... ready?"

Harry shrugged, his own first sandwich gone already as well, and took a bite of the second.
Hermione had brought up eight, but Harry suspected some might be for her, later, or maybe
Lilith. "Sure. Let's check."

When he cleared the door, Ron a step behind, Harry grinned as he reached for his wand to
whisper an incantation to conjure two chairs. The girls were both sitting on the edge of the
bed, Lilith appearing as Lyra with her long, silky dark hair and curvy body just a tiny bit
more slender and busty than Hermione's and the almond-shaped eyes that denoted her half-
Japanese 'ancestry', the Succubus' left arm around Hermione's waist, the other sliding a few
fingers up and down her thigh. They leaned close, noses almost touching, as Lyra whispered
one more quick phrase to Hermione, who was still pink in the face, lips parted slightly.

Then they kissed, and Ron groaned quietly as he sank into the chair, glad they had undressed
earlier as he started wanking immediately.

Harry was a bit more patient, though he sat too, as the soft kiss continued, then deepened
slowly as tongues began to dance. He watched too, mesmerized, as Lilith's lower hand began
to creep upward, spider-like, pressing soft divots into Hermione's skin, then over her skirt,
and then pressed flat against her slightly rounded belly before sliding up between her breasts
to rest there with outstretched fingers. The other hand, he saw, took advantage of the larger,
teenage girl's body to circle Hermione completely and cup her farther breast from the back.

Hermione gasped into the Succubus' mouth, then pulled her head away slightly, "That's... that
feels good."

"I told you," Lyra said softly, eyes searching the witch's, and leaned in again to pepper her
mouth with small, tiny kisses as she continued, "all sex is good, if you do it right, and I'm an
expert. You'll enjoy it. Relax, Hermione..."

Slowly, he saw her obey, slumping slightly as the tension that seemed ever-present in the
girl's shoulders unless she'd just been shagged rotten, slowly began to vanish. The hand on
her chest moved, pushing the thin white cotton out to bare each side of her chest slowly, the
hand around Hermione resuming its ministrations again without any barriers, then slid down
to push beneath the waistband of her skirt.

Harry smiled as he saw just teasing hints, erotic but not on full display, of Lyra's pale fingers
between Hermione's legs as she arched her back, hips unconsciously beginning to seek out
more pleasure, maybe despite herself. "Circe," Hermione moaned, "Oh- okay... can- can we
lose the clothes? I'm co- convinced..."

"If you want," Lyra said softly, "but we don't have to."

"It's fine," Hermione murmured, more firmly, then rose up and lifted her own skirt as Lyra's
hands pulled away to push her dripping, sodden knickers down to her ankles, then lifted one
foot out and moved to sit on the edge of the bed further way, with one foot off and the other
hiked up, sitting at an angle closer to facing Ron, who groaned at the sight of Hermione's
now-trimmed groin, his hand sliding a bit faster over his length.

But only as Lyra sank, 'clothes' still on, to lay on the edge of the mattress herself, letting her
fingers, then tongue, dart out to touch Hermione's folds, did Harry touch himself.

From the first contact of that glorious oral organ, Hermione's hand was fisting and twisting in
Lyra's black hair, and the witch couldn't seem to decide if it was better to have her head
thrown back in ecstasy, or hunched forward as the Succubus began to drive her wild.

Ron might not be able to see as much, since Lyra was probably covering the show, but Harry
watched avidly, hoping not just for some good 'porn' but also for a few tips, as the girl licked
away with abandon and relish. Then one hand moved up to knead Hermione's other tit, the
one she hadn't paid much attention to yet, and her remaining one cupped her own, which
swung from the bed, supported by nothing.

Only after Hermione quivered her way to her first orgasm some five minutes in did Lyra let
up, standing beside the bed, utterly ignoring either Harry or Ron as far as he could tell, and
looked down at the gasping, panting girl who had drenched her face with fluid, "That was
step one... my turn, Hermione... if you're up for it."

"I... okay," the witch murmured, "How... how do you want me to...?"

Lyra shot Harry a look and a wink, then reached out a hand to help Hermione stand. "Lay on
the bed with your head hanging down, like you're going to deep-throat Master or Ron. Don't
worry... this is just for us. The angle is kind of convenient for other things. Well... no. Lay
that way, but don't let your head hang. It might get tired."

Hermione nodded, shifting down on the bed, sighing as she went. It didn't escape Harry's
notice that she was wantonly scooting her sensitive cunny across the fabric as she went. The
thought made him smile. She's starting to look at other things for pleasure too, huh...?

"She is, Master... I'll have her a sex-crazed harlot in no time, at this rate."

Harry frowned. "Is that your... goal?"

Lyra looked back at him for a moment as she paused with one knee on the bed next to
Hermione, then shrugged, "Not without her consent, of course. But if she's willing... imagine
her on her knees, servicing four... six... ten men at once? Taking cock after cock in that
delicious pussy? Tell me the idea doesn't... appeal."

Harry's dick lurched, and he had his answer. "Fine... but only if she wants to. Though I'm sure
you've already got a way to convince her to say yes."

"Of course I do, Master. It would be silly to think otherwise. But if Ginny can be your whore,
why not someone else...? Not that either girl doesn't have other uses."

Harry grinned. That- Ginny surrounded by men to service- had an appeal, too. Harry chanced
a glance at Ron, and a seed of an idea sprang into his mind. One that, as Lilith threw a leg
over Hermione's head, facing down her body, and leaned down to present her own snatch to
the witch even as she started licking away again, quickly grew into a full-blown plan. It
would be so simple...

But no. Tricks aren't any good- they have to want it. Right, Lilith?

"Like I want your dick in me right now, and Ron's in Hermione's. But let's wait. The foursome
can come after classes, if Hermione has any energy left. I need to get this girl some Runes."

Hermione, Harry decided quickly, wasn't nearly as good at eating pussy, but it was still sexy
as hell watching her work at it. Still, she had four orgasms before Lyra sat up and turned
around, then picked up one of Hermione's legs to hold against her chest as she pressed their
twats, one furred and one bare, together. "Tribadism," the Succubus murmured, looking down
at Hermione, who groaned as the Succubus started to gyrate, "scissoring... there's a good
dozen words in English alone. One of my favorites for girl-on-girl."

"Ooohh..." Hermione moaned, both hands moving to her chest to knead and tweak the soft
flesh there, and Harry groaned too as she twisted one to suckle at a nipple, leaving it in her
mouth for over a minute before she let it pop out, dripping with her saliva, and started
sucking on the other.

"Fuck," Ron groaned, "I wanna... I wanna join."

"No," Lyra said firmly, scowling at him, "Wank if you want... but no. Let us- let her- have
this. If she wants you after, then fine."

It didn't take long, and Harry smiled as Hermione, too, lost control to the whirring, spinning
motions of Lyra humping her cunt, shrieking out in a mind-blowing orgasm that covered the
sound of Ron shooting a few long, high strings of jizz into the air too. Harry was close as
well, but he wasn't ready to blow just yet.

"Now," Lyra called as she slid off the girl, "if Hermione is ready for a cock, you can give her
one. Or fuck me."

Harry grinned as he stood, "Hermione?"

The girl's stunned, glazed eyes moved to Ron, then him, and she nodded, "My... my pussy
feels so good Harry... so many... but I want you. Put it in me... cum in me so hard, Harry, like
I did!"

"What about me?" Ron muttered, stroking himself once again, hand sticky and slimy with
leftover semen.

"Your call, Hermione. Suck him too, or let him fuck Lyra."

Hermione shuddered, and stuffed, Harry could see as he walked around the bed, three fingers
into her own twat, moving them swiftly, as she looked first at him then up at Ron, "L- Lyra...
fuck Lyra in the ass, Ron. Make her- make her scream. Right here."

She patted the bed next to where the Succubus was sitting, and the creature grinned, looking
toward Ron happily, "Want me facing you, or...?"

"F- Facing me, yeah," Ron said, "I- I wanna be on top."

"Okay."

Lyra obediently laid down next to Hermione, and their hands seemed to seek each other out
automatically, clasping together as Harry gently lifted Hermione's legs, moving them further
apart, and knee-walked up onto the bed. Then he scooped up the girl by her knees and hiked
her up onto his own thighs, rose, and put one leg down to angle himself in before thrusting
forward and down.
Hermione, already in a state of bliss, gasped as he entered her completely, nudging at the end
of her channel already, though Harry couldn't get the last two or so inches in at this angle, and
looked over to help hold Lyra's pale, creamy legs, still wearing her skirt and blouse, though it
was now open too. Ron paused, angled himself, then spat down on the now-brown star before
shoving his cock in half-way, then easing it in the rest with a groan. "Shit... you're...
different," Ron gasped, falling forward as he had before.

Lyra smiled, rolling her head back, and pulled his down to her neck, following Ron's natural
hunch, "I have a human body, more or less, like this," Lyra murmured, "this is what... well, if
Lyra were real, this is what her ass would feel like, Ron. Enjoy it... I want you to pound me
again."

"Fuck," Hermione groaned at Lyra's words, twisting the Succubus' hand in her own then, with
her other, reaching down to work her clit while Harry started moving faster.

Lilith, too, started fingering and pinching her own little clit, or shoving a couple of fingers
inside herself while Ron pulled out and pushed back in, then started moving more regularly,
eyes closed. "Damn... this feels fucking amazing," Ron gasped, "How come... never mind."

"It hurts most women for a while," Lyra answered the unfinished question, "and you have to
be gentle every time. But when Hermione's ready... you'll take him, won't you, hon?"

"Gods yes," Hermione groaned, twisting her own hips as Harry started pushing in faster,
making her whole body shake and her heavy tits sway and bounce in circles, "take them
both... I want them to fuck me like they were doing you earlier!"

"Fuck yeah," Ron groaned, tossing his head back again and hammering in harder, faster,
sliding six, eight inches out, until all but his tip was inside Lyra's tight anus, and slamming
back in, making the bed bounce in time with Harry's own fast thrusts.

Hermione's cunt twitched, and a wash of fluid hit his stomach as Harry, too, threw his head
back in climax, spurting again and again into Hermione's welcoming hole, until once more
seed began to leak out.

Ron finished a moment later, and was still climaxing when Harry looked down to see
Hermione half-conscious. Slowly, he eased out, more because of his own over-sensitivity
from the crushingly powerful serious of orgasms he'd had than care for her own- he knew she
was done, but a bit more pleasure to cap things off never seemed to bother women he knew.

Ron pulled out faster, yanking himself free once he was done, then shook the last few dollops
from his dick before Lyra sat up and spun around, mouthing him, and then cleaned him
before doing the same to Harry. While she did so, the Succubus put one hand over depths of
Hermione's core, just above her pubic hair, and he watched as a soft white glow suffused the
dim room for a moment, then moved the hand over the rest of his leaking cum. "Got it all,"
she murmured, sitting up once more to press a kiss to Harry's lips which he returned softly.

"Damn," Ron groaned, stepping off the bed to splay out on the wooden chair he had occupied
before, "you guys are gonna kill me... I can't go again. I can't."
Harry laughed, "I can. But Hermione's done, and we're almost out of time. She might need a
shower anyway. Look how sweaty she is."

Hermione lifted one finger in his direction, and all three laughed.

A few minutes later, still naked but holding his clothes, Harry walked quickly out of the
'dungeon', heading for the small ensuite shower across the common room.

Only to freeze half-way there, as a white-faced Neville caught his eye from the couch. "Er-
hi, Nev. We'll- talk later. Sorry."

When he came out, Hermione and Ron were each running showers of their own, and Lyra
was gone from the room, but Neville was still sitting where Harry had left him, looking a bit
confused, but not upset, though he was still a bit pale.

"So... what's up?"

The other wizard shrugged, unwilling to look at Harry apparently. "Sorry I came in, I... didn't
realize you'd be, uh... occupied. I heard a noise, and I..."

"You looked?"

Neville nodded once, a short, jerky motion, and began to turn pink instead of pasty white.

"Don't worry about it. You could have joined in, if you wanted."

There was the blush, in full force.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his just-cleaned hair, "Look, mate. We were serious,
what was said on the carriage. This year, Ginny wants to fuck you. Hermione does, I'm sure,
too. Lyra I know does. Ron... he might've cared if you had Hermione, but I don't think he
would. I wouldn't, and... well, clearly you..."

"Know you're shagging, too?"

Harry nodded, "Lyra's a Succubus. If nothing else, it's in her nature. Last year, I might not've
been so willing. This year? Just last night- first night of term- I told her she could shag
anyone she wanted, as long as it was discrete, and I get my time too. She'll probably come
after you soon. If you want to say no- say no. No one will force you. But I'm happy with her
doing it, and so is she. No one else has a right to be upset about it if you do. Well, maybe
Hannah."

Neville glanced toward the other two bedrooms, where the showers were still running quietly.
"And..."

"If you ask Hermione, she will tell you what she thinks. She won't lie, and she won't be mean
about it either way. Ron... well, I'd start with her. But I really don't think he'd care. Hell... as
long as you ask first, if you want to shag Ginny, ask me, then her."
Neville blinked, confused, and looked at Harry for the first time since he'd left his bedroom.
"Why- why you first?"

"That's a private matter," Harry shrugged, "but... she's mine. She wants you, and I said on the
carriage she can have you, but ask me first. If she comes to you, she already asked me, so it's
fine. And if Ron- or any of her brothers- object, send them my way."

Neville, pink once more, nodded. "I... I don't know, Harry. This sounds..."

"Too good to be true?"

There was one more nod.

"It is- but it's true. All the sex you could want, minimal strings attached. We just have to be
discrete, like McGonagall said. Those rooms they're in, apparently, can't be 'claimed' like
mine was, so use either one whenever you want. Hell... use mine. I don't care, as long as you
don't mind me bringing people to join in, maybe share."

Neville looked a little green suddenly, but nodded. "I... okay. Okay, I... I can do that. Um... so
Hannah...?"

Harry grinned, "Bring Hannah up here whenever you want. Seriously. Enjoy the place- as
long as it's discrete. Bring Susan, if and when she wants to. Anyone- as long as Hannah
doesn't mind."

Neville shook his head, blushing again, "Hannah... told me she... wants me to get more
experience still."

"Lucky you," Harry laughed, "Oh no, not that, being told by your witch to shag other
witches..."

"Well, when you put it like that," Neville said with an amused grimace. "Look, I need to get
to the Library. I'll- I'll see you 'round, Harry."

He was at the door when the 'chosen one' looked over, "Hold up, Nev. One more thing. I
might have another... present for you, in the next few weeks. Keep your eyes open. Don't
forget, this- these- rooms are always open if you wanna use 'em."

"R- Right. Thanks, Harry."

 Seen and Unseen Occurrences
Chapter Summary

It's smutty. Stuff happens. Relationships grow. Also smut.

... Did I mention there's some smut? Not as much as some chapters though... Weird.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 27: Seen and Unseen Occurrences

Harry and Ron arrived just in time for the class to begin, breathless and flushed, with a much
more collected Hermione a few minutes ahead, already seated at one of the double-wide
tables in the back, her cauldron out and ready to go. Ron grinned as he spun half-way,
twisting past Harry to take that seat with a victorious smile up at his best friend, who now
stood in the middle of the mostly full classroom, looking around.

There weren't a lot of empty spots.

Malfoy had teamed up with Nott in the other back corner, and Milly and Pansy were sitting
together too. There were only two Hufflepuffs in the class, Susan and a boy Harry recognized
but didn't know the name of, who were both sitting with two of the three Ravenclaws, Susan
with Michael Corner, and the other boy with Terry Boot, while Padma was sitting with
Parvati, probably the best potioneer in their age group aside from Hermione, and definitely
the best in Gryffindor.

Which left just three seats empty. Two alone, meaning he'd probably be by himself unless
there was a late arrival, and the last beside Daphne Greengrass, who cocked an eyebrow but
didn't change her neutral expression as Harry stepped toward her and stopped. “Mind if I
sit?”
The girl, to her credit, didn't say no. Instead, she only reached out and picked up her quill
from the left side of her own cauldron and moved it to rest over her open copy of Advanced
Potion Making.

A book that, only then, did Harry realize he didn't have. “Erm, sorry, I- I just realized neither
Ron nor I have copies of the books. We didn't think we'd be able to get into the class with
only an E.”

“You may borrow mine for the day only,” Daphne said quietly, “I've read the first several
chapters.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, then fell quiet as the rotund, walrus-mustachioed Professor stepped
into the room from his office, turning sideways to fit through the door.

Slughorn beamed across the room at the mixed class, his eyes lingering on several, but
stopping the longest on Harry as his smile widened to show several slightly yellowed teeth,
“Excellent, excellent... all here? We should have two empty desks, yes... alright, then. Who-
Oh, yes, Mr.... Weasley?”

Ron's hand, to Harry's surprise, was in the air, no doubt at Hermione's urging as he seemed
quite uncomfortable to be attracting attention this early in the class. “P- Professor, neither
Harry nor I were aware we'd be in the class, so we haven't got books yet.”

“Not a problem,” Slughorn chuckled amiably, “not a problem at all. In that cupboard there,
you'll find a few copies. They're older, mind you, but take one for yourself and Harry, and
replace them when you have your own. Simple enough. Now...”

The Professor fell quiet as he looked down the list of students in his thick fingers, taking a
slightly more careful but silent roll as he matched pictures and names to the actual faces, eyes
flickering up and down rapidly as Ron's chair scraped.

Thirty seconds later, his best friend snickered, “Only two, and I did the work. You get the bad
one.”

Harry frowned as he opened the book. It wasn't in bad condition, not really, but it had clearly
been well-read, and every single page was covered in notes in a tiny, cramped script. “You
suck,” he muttered to Ron, who moved back and to the left to his own seat next to Hermione.

Daphne smiled, tilting her head slightly, “The offer of the book stands, Potter.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, closing the worn, older edition quickly.

“Alright,” Slughorn began, clasping his hands together, “I was going to throw together a little
demonstration of some of the things potions can do as an introduction to some of the more
powerful brews we'll be concocting later this year, but I'm afraid I ran short of time, so we
will have to do that next week. Instead, I think we'll jump right into the thick of it, shall we?”

Several members of the class, including Daphne, straightened in their chairs with a soft wave
of noise that rose and fell quickly. Slughorn clapped his hands together again, beaming down
at them, “So, each of you has proven yourselves adequate Potioneers, and my dear protege,
Severus- ah, well, Professor Snape to you, must have done well to get you this far, unless it's
on your own talent of course. So... I believe I can trust that each of you know at least the
basics of Gamp's five laws of Elemental Transfiguration? Ah, Miss Granger...?”

Again, Harry tuned out her answer for the most part, choosing instead to pull out a piece of
parchment and, rather than take notes, jot a quick statement down before sliding it subtly in
Daphne's direction.

It took her a few moments to notice, but the blonde carefully took it around the cauldron to
write an equally quick reply before pushing it back.

No, I will not! Next year, Potter!

He wrote another line, just a few words.

Again, Daphne wrote back quickly between her own actual note-taking. Tracey is her own
person, with her own issues. I am not motivated by the same things, and if and when I
approach you, it will be on my time, not yours!

Harry only shrugged, glancing at her notes to write down a more short-hand version of
Daphne's on the five Exceptions to the primary law, while Slughorn then began to list the
other four laws as well, which primarily seemed to relate to conjuring things from nothing.
How that related to Potions, Harry had not yet deduced, but he was a bit distracted by
Daphne's curvaceous figure beneath her own open robes, and the tantalizing glimpse of her
tanned legs below her skirt-line, not to mention the conversation.

As he finished, Daphne huffed and snatched his parchment away quickly, hastily wrote
several more lines , then passed it back with another frown of disapproval, and turned her
attention fully back to Slughorn, clearly dismissing the conversation.

Harry, though, smiled as he read over the last message.

Fine! Fine! We can talk after class, before dinner, but it's just talking! I can't be seen-
fraternizing with you. Where should we meet? Don't pass the message back until the end of
class, I'm trying to concentrate.

Harry grinned, wrote one easy line, then pushed the parchment below his notebook as
Slughorn turned to face them, eyes twinkling as they moved back and forth between the two.

“Now, as we've covered what can and cannot be conjured, can anyone tell me why we would
need this information for Potions...?”

Again, Hermione's hand was in the air, but so was Daphne's, and the Professor called on his
table's witch first. The blonde coughed lightly to clear her throat, and her voice was clear,
diction excellent, as she answered, “It's unreasonable to have every Potions ingredient,
especially some of the more rare and expensive ones, on hand at all times. Conjuring
ingredients can help alleviate that need, as long as Gamp's laws are followed.”
“Excellent response Miss... Greengrass. Yes, I'm good friends with your father, Cyrus, did
you know? Excellent chap. Now, yes, Miss Greengrass is perfectly correct, but there's more
to it. You see...”

Daphne, slightly pink in the face, seemed to shrink in her chair at the mention of her father.
Harry frowned, and turned his head just slightly to whisper, “You okay? Things... alright,
with your parents?”

“I'm fine,” the witch shot back quietly, “My parents are fine. Astoria's fine.”

“Okay,” Harry said with a shrug, “but your body language says otherwise.”

“Then quit watching my body,” she hissed.

“No way,” he shot right back, enjoying her increasing discomfort and blush a bit too much,
“it's too beautiful to stop watching now.”

The class ended almost an hour later, the mixed group having done little more than practice
conjuring a few simple but uncommon ingredients, while Slughorn moved among them,
grading quality as if they would be found in an apothecary or supply store. “Excellent job,
Weasley, Granger. Good coaching, yes. Your Chromium is very shiny, almost totally pure.
Very well done indeed- both of you take two points each to Gryffindor. Ah, there's the bell.”

Slughorn looked up as the familiar chime to signal the end of the study-day for most of the
sixth-years rang out. As one, the students in the Potions classroom started to hurry and gather
their things, but the rotund teacher held up a hand, “One moment, one moment, everyone...
I'd like each of you to come by my desk on the way out. I have prepared a few... helpful
things, shall we say, for some of you. Things that might help each of you in turn.”

Confused, Harry joined the queue behind Daphne with Ron and Hermione right behind him.
Malfoy was a few students ahead along with Nott, and Harry watched as Slughorn, smiling
jovially the whole time while he sat in the chair behind the teacher's desk, handing out sheets
of parchment from one of two stacks. Quickly, though, he noticed a pattern. He wasn't
handing out two with whoever was closest getting a parchment from that side. In fact,
Slughorn seemed to be taking particular care to hand only certain of his classmates
parchments from the shorter stack on the left, while the vast majority got the ones from the
right, including Malfoy.

Daphne, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all received the sheets from the left, though Slughorn
held up a finger as Daphne stepped up, “Ah, Miss Greengrass... one moment, I'd like to add a
note to yours, if you don't mind. You too, Mr. Potter. There you go... enjoy your dinner, Miss
Greengrass.”

As the blonde flipped over the parchment, as had many before her, she frowned, casting a
curious glance at the Professor, then Harry, before walking quickly from the room, another
scrap of parchment, Harry's clutched in the same hand.

“And for you, Mr. Potter... an excellent choice in girlfriends,” Slughorn chuckled.
Harry flushed as Ron and Hermione shared a worried glance behind him, and several of the
other students, including Nott behind them, started whispering. “Er... who exactly do you
mean, Professor?”

Slughorn blinked, looking a bit confused, “Well, I must confess young Miss Sendai was the
one I'd first suspected when we met this summer, but the way you and Miss Greengrass
interacted... young love is precious, you know. Keep her close! She's definitely a keeper.”

“Er, Da- Miss Greengrass isn't my girlfriend, Professor,” Harry muttered, probably not loudly
enough to quell the whispers, but not caring particularly much. It was too late to stop the
rumors now, anyway. “I don't know if I would even call us friends.”

“Oh,” Slughorn blinked again in surprise, “Well, you could do worse, my boy... here's your
parchment. Don't forget the extra little tidbit I wrote for you anyway.”

Harry waited beside the desk while his friends got theirs, too, only without an additional
scrawl at the bottom, but didn't bother reading it.

Slughorn was an effective teacher, and clearly knew his subject, but Harry wasn't sure he
liked the man at all. Something about the jovial act and good cheer rubbed him the wrong
way. It probably is that it's an act to begin with, he concluded, leading the trio out of the
room to find the corridor mostly empty, only Daphne a few dozen yards away, climbing the
stairs up toward the ground floor at a rapid clip.

Harry blinked as he admired her luscious legs from afar, then turned to the others, holding up
his sheet to compare as they walked down the hall side-by-side after her. Dinner, after all,
couldn't wait forever, and Daphne hadn't protested when he had suggested meeting afterward
instead. I hope my directions were good enough.

They had already sat down in the Great Hall, dinner on the tables, before Harry could turn his
full attention to the parchments, which varied only slightly. “Okay, so it's a list of books he
recommends,” Ron asked, “But what's the point?”

“Look at the titles,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Getting ahead: Networking 101 is a Muggle
book, but the information in it is useful in both worlds. Slughorn is trying to show us- at least
those of us that got this list- how to make influential friends, like Professor Dumbledore said
he used to do. And at the bottom is an invitation, see?”

“Slug Club?” Ron said with a frown. Harry could remember well why his best mate would be
concerned. His last real interaction with slugs had not been a pleasant few hours. “Sounds
boring.”

“I don't know,” Hermione shrugged, “He says he'll provide a feast of his own, and we might
make some more friends. What do you think, Harry?”

Lilith, fingers invisible to everyone, including him, ghosted along his shoulders, making
Harry shiver, before she shrank down and then fluttered beneath the table to 'eat'. He scooted
forward on the bench to hide the activity the best he could while the Succubus pulled out his
rapidly growing erection and started licking it like a lollipop. He shrugged, “I don't know.
May's well go to try it out, at least. If he invited everyone that got those parchments, it should
be an interesting mix. Lots of people I don't know, of course, but...”

“Bunch of Slytherins,” Ron muttered under his breath.

Harry shrugged, “There's a few Slytherins I wouldn't mind getting to know better.”

Ron frowned across the Hall briefly, saying nothing. Hermione laughed, then put a hand high
on his leg while she leaned in and whispered something that made Ron's face darken to match
his hair. She giggled quietly as she sat back up and turned to her dinner with a wave at
another red-head who squeezed into the narrow gap between Harry and Seamus Finnegan.

“Hi Gin,” he murmured, one eye twitching at the pleasure his pet was causing between his
legs.

“Hi guys,” she said briskly, reaching for several of the half-empty serving trays to fill her
plate, then reached down quickly to pat the air over Harry's cock, “Hi, Lyra.”

The last, thankfully, was said much more quietly, though across from Seamus, Neville
blinked, turned pink, then glanced down below the table. Not far enough, Harry thought, to
see anything, because he seemed confused as he sat back up and returned to his dinner.

Ten bites in, Ginny jumped and Harry watched as her skirt lifted, pushed up by invisible
hands, then moaned softly as an image filled Harry's mind through his connection with Lilith.
His own cock vanished into an eager mouth, from Lilith's own point of view, which made
him choke slightly on his food, before her attention turned partially, along with the view, to
the side as the hand he could now see ghosted along the front of Ginny's knickers, and the
younger witch's legs opened wide to accept them without question.

Harry's pleasure continued to mount as he ate, but he forestalled his climax by the simple
expedient of directing most of his attention to the little note Slughorn had added at the end.

Good to see you making friends outside of your House, Mr. Potter. If- when- things come to a
head, you'll need all the friends you can get. Twenty points to Gryffindor.

He grinned, showing it to Ron and then Hermione, who glanced down at it, grimaced, then
leaned back to hiss around Ron's back, “Right here at the table? Really?”

He only grinned and hissed back, “Jealous?”

The girl grimaced, but didn't say anything as he started shooting another load into Lyra's
eager mouth.

Without preamble, he felt more than heard and saw as she knee-walked to the side and put
her face between Ginny's legs, then got another visual flash as Lilith pushed the girl's plain
knickers, already dark with moisture, to the side and darted her tongue outward.

Beside him, Ginny jumped and dropped her fork, awkwardly passing it to her left hand after a
moment so she could rest the hand on Harry's thigh while he covered himself back up, glad
that Lilith never left a mess. Before long his other pet was shivering in a brief but powerful
climax too, and Lyra moved in the other direction to stop before Ron.

Harry grinned as the boy jumped, pointedly not looking down as his flesh came into view
and, as if by magic, was lubricated by saliva- and his sister's very juices, if he knew the
Succubus at all.

Harry decided to eat more slowly after that, taking his time as Lyra serviced Ron, then moved
on to Hermione, who jumped like Ginny had as she moved in. Then, like Harry had, she
pushed her hips forward on the bench and leaned in over the table, hoping no one would
notice the head-sized bulge in her skirt or her rapid breathing, and definitely not the flush to
her face.

He could tell she was much more relaxed when the girl started gulping down water a few
minutes later, but Lyra still didn't make an appearance. Instead, he watched through her eyes
as she turned and presented her ass toward his own groin, then reached forward for another
zipper without warning.

Neville jumped, turning scarlet, and coughed, but he did not protest as Lyra pulled his cock
free and started stroking it, too. At least he, too, had the sense to lean forward and scoot in a
bit, as they had. “Something wrong, Nev?” he asked with a grin.

The boy shot him a glare, but couldn't hold it. Instead, fighting to look angry but clearly
enjoying himself as Lyra began blowing him, Neville returned, “Nah- everything's just great,
Harry. I haven't seen your new friend, Lyra lately. Where's she at?”

Ron and Hermione shared a knowing glance, but Harry only smiled, “No idea, mate. She
doesn't have Potions or DADA, so we won't see as much of her on Monday. In fact, I think
she has the whole day class-free.”

“Lucky,” Ron muttered.

If Neville was embarrassed that he'd climaxed in front of the entire Great Hall a few minutes
later, Harry couldn't tell. He had schooled his face perfectly, though Lyra had informed him
mentally that the boy had orgasmed very hard indeed, thanks to her technique.

Only after orally pleasuring Ginny, himself, Ron, Hermione, and Neville in quick succession
did Lyra shrink back down, fly out from beneath the table, and leave the hall only to return as
her normal student-self, catching more than a few glances as she made her way to the
Gryffindor table and sat down between Neville and Parvati, who was across from Hermione,
chatting animatedly with Lavender.

“You guys coming up to the Common Room tonight?” the Succubus in human guise asked, “I
didn't see much of you today.”

“I don't know,” Harry said with a shrug, “I'm meeting someone in the other room for a bit.
After that, maybe, we'll see.”
“I'll be there,” Hermione answered too, “After the Library. I'd like to get a start on my
homework.”

Ron, predictably, groaned, “Twenty-two inches already. It's only the first day of classes!”

“Yes,” Hermione reminded him, “but we have the week. If we get it done now, we'll have
time to play later.”

In any year before this one, Harry knew that 'play' would have meant chess, or Gobstones, or
something, but now... Ron grinned toward their shared girlfriend, “Oh, yeah, I didn't think of
that. Congratulations, Hermione... finally found a way to motivate me.”

“I'll be sure to write your mother,” she retorted dryly, while several people laughed.

A thoroughly-shagged Ron stepped into the common room of Harry's private quarters nearly
two hours later, Hermione right behind him, looking equally happy and disheveled. He
smirked, looking up from his own half-done Potions essay, having finally, he hoped, figured
out why Conjuring ingredients might be useful besides just making up for the lack. It was the
purity involved. If one Conjured, for example, pure Chromium- they would only get
Chromium, no refining process necessary. Still, Hermione gently took the homework out of
his hands and straddled Harry's lap, putting her hands around his neck, then leaned in for a
passionate, if slow, kiss.

Ron, meanwhile, laughed and stepped into one of the smaller rooms for another shower.

Harry's hands fell to Hermione's rump, pulling her against him, but she pulled away at the
mouth to lay her body against him and bury her face in his neck for several seconds, hips
twitching on his suddenly swelling cock. “Sorry, Harry,” she murmured, “I'm... I'm a bit
shagged out. I just wanted to remind you that I love you, too, before I went to bed.”

“Love you too, Hermione,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck and giving her delicious
ass a squeeze before she stood back up, handed the boy his homework once more, and
sashayed to the other bedroom with a particular sway to her hips. But she returned from the
door a moment later to bend down, kiss his forehead, and while she was bent, reached
beneath her skirt to push her knickers to the floor. Then she handed them to him with a saucy
wink. “They're a bit drenched, Harry... but I wouldn't sniff them. There's a lot of me and Ron
on there.”

He laughed, took her hand, and pushed them back to her. “Laundry, then, minx. I love your
taste, but it's better fresh.”

She laughed too, and even flipped her skirt up at the back just as she closed the door, giving
him another tantalizing view.

Daphne still hadn't arrived.

He was almost done with the second essay, since the Defense one had been so easy despite
being twelve inches long, before Ron stepped out of the shower, dressed in his pajamas, and
yawned. “Not sure if I'm gonna go up,” he muttered, “mind if I kip here? Elves must've
brought my trunk down.”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged, “I'm gonna finish before I go to bed. I'll probably stay here myself.”

“'Kay. I should probably keep working on my Potions... we only got mine half-done before
she got randy.”

Harry was about to reply when a soft knock sounded at the door. “Come in.”

Ron, half-way to his bedroom, had stopped to look. He hissed as Daphne stepped inside,
turning as she did to shut the door behind her quietly before looking out into the larger room.
“Potter, Weasley,” she greeted casually, “May I sit?”

“What's she doing here?” Ron asked guardedly. Harry was pleased that he hadn't started with
outright hostility, but...

“Be nice, Ron,” he chided anyway, “She's my friend, too. I trust her- at least a little.”

“Thank you, P- Harry,” Daphne said softly, giving Ron another nod as she entered the room
fully and brushed her skirt back before sitting primly in one of the armchairs on Harry's right,
close to the door but with her back to it, facing Ron. “Alright, I'm here. What is it you wanted
to talk about?”

Harry glanced at Ron, who hadn't moved, then said, “Ron, seriously, it's fine. Sit down if you
don't trust her, or go to bed. It's fine, we're just going to talk. Even if she was trying to
ambush me, which I know she's not, Lilith is a thought away.”

“I'm busy watching Ginny think of you, but I can come if you want,” the Succubus thought
back in response to his silent, nonverbal query.

He smiled a bit more relaxed, turning his attention back to his prettier guest, “I just figured
you might want to have some fun, but since you seemed to be against it in class...”

“Oh, right, your concubine contract,” Ron muttered, shaking his head, “Can't believe it's with
a Slytherin, but whatever. I'm going to bed- yell if you need my wand.”

Harry snorted, shaking his head as Ron disappeared behind the door Hermione had chosen
rather than the one he'd showered in. “He's pretty paranoid.”

“Not without reason,” Daphne admitted, relaxing slightly now that they were the only two in
the room, “Corvus has let a few things slip. Milly's kicking him out of the house during Yule
break. We haven't got anything to report that I know of, but Astoria says hello.”

“Hi to her, too,” Harry grinned, “How's she doing?”

Daphne frowned, “The Malediction is... progressing slowly, as we knew it would.”

Harry frowned too, a bit deeper, “I forgot to try and facilitate a treatment. I figure the sooner
the better. Help me write a letter...?”
“I suppose,” the blonde murmured, shifting to the couch as he pulled out a fresh sheet of
parchment and shook out his aching hand before picking up his quill.

Between them, Daphne occasionally correcting his syntax or suggesting symptoms he might
list, Harry composed what he hoped was an adult-sounding request for assistance diagnosing
and possibly treating a blood-related illness, then made several copies before signing and
stacking them neatly. “Okay, I'll mail those off during a free period, through Sirius- he knows
how to use Muggle mail too.”

“Thank you,” Daphne murmured, “I... I know it's a slim hope, but it's all we have.”

“I hope it helps,” he replied softly, taking her hand in both of his for a moment, and giving it
a gentle squeeze.

“So,” Daphne said, sitting up straighter after a few seconds, looking around the well-
appointed, comfortable room, “Staff quarters. You've gotten your first real special treatment, I
see.”

“Lilith- Lyra,” he started to explain, “Dumbledore knows, and of course now most
professors- or at least the Heads of House- know, too. He arranged it so I'd have a... a...”

“A place to tryst?”

He nodded.

“Do you- or do you plan to- spend any time in your Common Room?”

Harry shrugged, “I spent last night in the dorm. I was thinking of sleeping here tonight, but
haven't fully decided. Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall set it up so only those people I
allow can enter and leave freely, aside from the pair of them. Even the other Heads of House
can't get in without my or Dumbledore's permission.”

One shining eyebrow rose as she looked sideways at him, “And I'm allowed to enter and exit
freely?”

“No,” he laughed, “not yet. Tonight was just tonight, and honestly I thought you'd forgotten
or changed your mind. But... if you'd like...”

“No, that won't be necessary,” Daphne rolled her eyes, pulling his hands into her lap instead
and letting her fingers start to trace the ridges and lines of his more calloused, larger hand. “I
won't be sleeping with you tonight, Potter. And no, you don't get to say anything about
'sleeping' not being what you had in mind, either. That- that night in the library was an
exception, not the rule.”

“Hell of an exception, though,” he reminded her, “I still dream about it, even after all...”

“Yes, remind me once again,” her blue eyes rolled, “about all the other women you've been
with when you're trying to seduce me- a lesbian. Well done, Potter.”
Something Lyra- Lilith- had said a few days ago clicked with her own words, and he grinned,
then pulled her hand back to press it to his lips. She flushed slightly, but didn't protest as he
let it fall back toward her lap. “And what would you say, dear Miss Greengrass, if I were
willing to... experiment, to spend more time with you?”

Her lips twisted and brow furrowed. A cute look indeed, he decided, on the normally stoic,
statue-like face. “What do you mean?”

He gave a little shrug, “Oh, I heard a rumor we might be experimenting with Polyjuice Potion
this semester in Potions. I happen to have a small stash already, and I would- could- be
convinced to... be someone else, if you felt you would enjoy it more.”

“As blokes go,” Daphne muttered, looking away red-faced, “you're the only one I've
fantasized about, so that wouldn't work.”

Harry grinned, leaning in to whisper against her ear through the silky golden locks, “I wasn't
thinking of changing into a bloke. Would you want to shag me as Hermione? Ginny Weasley?
You name it. Even... you.”

She snorted with laughter, which died quickly as she realized Harry wasn't joking. “You'd...
give up your...” she glanced down at his groin, which was swollen but not fully erect, just
enough to show, “for an hour, just to... be with me again?”

“In a heartbeat,” he replied, quite honestly.

“Then in that case,” she replied, leaning in to brush her lips against his ear in turn, “I'd say it
increases your odds...but still, not tonight. I should get going.”

“Alright. Well... I hope you have a good night, Daphne. Would you like an escort to the
Slytherin Common Room?”

“No, I think I can manage,” she chuckled, standing up, “but I appreciate the offer. Good
night, Potter.”

“Good night to you too, Greengrass,” he grinned, “I think watching you leave will make my
night pleasant indeed, though I hate seeing you go.”

She laughed again at the corny, stolen line, giving him an amused wave as she vanished into
the corridor outside.

It was late, and for once, Harry was actually tired, so he didn't mind not having any company,
not even Lilith, as he climbed into the massive, soft bed of the private quarters and fell
quickly asleep.

At breakfast on Tuesday, Harry only had one thought on his mind as he watched the visible-
only-to-him Lilith, in Ron's 7th-year, bustier favorite form, step from his and Ron's drained
cocks to put a hand on Hermione's knees from where she sat between them, with Ginny and
Neville, once again, across the table.
Oh, how times have changed, Hermione...

She had been most hesitant about the Succubus' presence for more than a few weeks after
Lilith had been summoned, but now, even at the breakfast table surrounded by a couple
hundred students and most of the staff, she spread her legs at the slightest touch, inviting the
invisible creature in to please her orally.

Harry, already having eaten before Lilith started making her rounds, was stiffening again as
he listened to Hermione's little mewls, but once again he was tucked away to hide things
from the many students who were walking back and forth from their own meals behind him.
But that didn't stop him from resting his right hand on Hermione's knee, then carefully sliding
it up her leg to push up the skirt, baring inch after inch of pale, creamy flesh, then, as the
witch hissed, twist and turn his hand down to surround her folds, feeling Lilith's hair and
forehead tap against his fingers while she worked.

"H- Harry," Hermione hissed, letting her eyes close, but she didn't tell or signal either him or
Lilith to stop.

He smiled as she started breathing more quickly, shallowly, and set down her silverware to
grip the edge of the table and bench with either hand, knuckles quickly turning white. Harry
kicked off one shoe and gently lifted that leg, sending it in search of another slender leg.
Ginny jumped, looking up from her half-empty tray.

Harry gestured with his eyes toward Hermione's lap, then again before the red-head caught
the message and looked. And looked. After about twenty seconds, pupils already dilating
slightly, Ginny looked up with a sly grin and mouthed, "Your friend?"

Harry nodded once, just a small twitch of his head, then started lifting his foot further, sliding
the sock up the inside of Ginny's leg, higher and higher. The younger witch, too, smiled in a
secretive fashion, and shifted slightly in her seat to bring herself a bit closer. It took him a
few seconds, maybe a whole minute, to find the girl's groin and slip beneath her skirt, but
Ginny sighed the moment he did, a great deal of tension flooding from her shoulders.

It was harder than Harry had expected to work her with his toes and the ball of his foot, but
Ginny seemed to be enjoying the attention anyway, because she put down her knife as well,
keeping only her fork, which started to move much more slowly and carefully.

Then, to Harry's joy, the fiery girl nudged Neville, who was sitting across from Hermione,
and whispered something in his ear, then looked down at her own lap pointedly.

Neville's gaze, predictably, followed.

Any protest he might have made as he saw Harry's foot buried beneath Ginny's school skirt
vanished as, louder than she had for Ron or Harry, his own trouser zipper came undone. He
looked over at Hermione, who hadn't bothered to cover herself, and down to find that Lilith
had indeed moved on without him noticing.

Which left his hand holding open Hermione's glorious folds open for anyone close enough
and looking down to see, her skirt bunched beneath his wrist and everything. Then Ron
coughed, and put his hand on the inside of Hermione's other thigh, looking up at the staff
table, and briefly brushed against Harry's as he reached down, too, and slipped one finger
inside Hermione's cunt.

She moaned, and hissed, "So not fair..."

But again, she didn't protest as Harry's fingers closed on the hood of her engorged clit and
Ron started pumping his digit, too.

Ginny, across the way, dropped her fork onto her plate and pressed herself more fully against
Harry's foot, and he watched her put a hand on Neville's leg too, but she didn't seem to do
more than that. Neville, for his part, did his best to continue eating while Lilith sucked him
off, but after about a minute and a half, he exploded too, his entire body tensing up enough
that Seamus glanced his way from the boy's left, "You alright, Nev?"

"M- M'fine," Neville grunted, slowly relaxing, "Just- just a c-c-ramp."

"Or a c-c-cum," Lilith thought to Harry with a sense of amusement, "He came hard- almost
as much as you did that very first time.

Then, unfortunately, he felt Lilith's strong hands push his foot away from Ginny's snatch,
though she sucked his sock-covered toes into her mouth for a moment to vacuum up the
witch's fluids, then took his place with her mouth, forcing Ginny to sigh once more in
pleasure.

A few minutes later, once Lyra, 'sleepy-eyed', had joined them at the table, taking Neville's
hastily-vacated spot, she tried to pass Harry a note, which Ginny intercepted with a wink and
cat-like reflexes, reading it herself before adding something else at the bottom and her own
false signature.

Master, I think we need to add someone else to the mix soon. Your friend Dean saw you both
pleasuring Hermione. You weren't very discrete. Even if it's just temporary or less common,
he needs something to shut him up.

Then, in Ginny's neat script, I agree. He was trying to push me into sex, that's why we broke
up, but it's not like I'm not... interested.

Oh, and Harry? I have a free period before dinner, and I'm lonely. XOXOFFF

He snorted, wadded the paper up, and shoved it into his bag. "I guess I can ask-"

"Nah," Lyra said, shaking her head and smiling across the table as she took a few small bites
herself to keep up appearances, "I'll do it. You can be there, but..."

Harry shrugged.

A few minutes later the group, minus Ginny but with Neville once more, were making their
way down to the Greenhouses for Double Herbology. Harry tugged quietly on Lyra's shirt,
and she obediently slowed down to let the rest walk ahead a bit. He glanced about- there were
no others within earshot, so he asked quietly, "Don't think I can do it?"
"I'm sure you can, Master," Lyra responded with a shrug, "but I was going to blow him first,
then ask. Did you want to do that...?"

"No," Harry grimaced, "but I think I can convince him anyway. I mean... play on his kink,
right?"

Lyra raised one eyebrow while looking up at him through the corner of her eye as they
followed the path down the hillside. "Yes... if you really want to, of course I'll step aside. Of
course, the blow-job couldn't hurt, but it would make a good back-up plan, too."

Harry nodded, grinning as a memory of her sinking onto Dean's dick came to his mind. He
stopped cold for a moment. "Hey," he whispered, leaning in and talking even more softly,
"How come you could fuck Dean last year...?"

Lyra snorted, "Because he wasn't a virgin then, Master. I never checked in detail, but
apparently he'd been with someone over Christmas."

"Oh," Harry said, only then realizing it was kind of a silly question, given what he knew
about Lilith's rules about virgins. "So... any idea who?"

"No... but we can find out later if you'd like. After he's had a few rounds to keep him docile."

"You're such a slag," Harry laughed, meaning it as the compliment both of them thought it
would be.

Lyra, of course, smiled up and told him, "Yes, but I'm your slag."

Double Herbology was interesting, but still mostly just a class to Harry. As with the other
N.E.W.T.-level classes, they were shared between all four Houses, which meant there were a
few Slytherins, a few Ravenclaws, a few Gryffindors- the 'trio' and Neville, along with Lyra,
in her first actual class as a student- and the remaining half of the group were all Hufflepuffs.

Neville predictably grouped with Hannah who had arrived with Susan, which left them with
an odd number out. "Go with Ron and Hermione," he said to Lyra, then peeled off half-way
through the room to take a spot next to Tracey Davis, who blinked up at him, but did not
protest. "Good morning, Tracey," he murmured, "do you mind?"

The tiny girl shook her head, but added just as quietly, "I am expecting Pansy as well. Do you
feel it safe to address me by my first name?"

Harry blinked, surprised that he had at first, and looked around the room to find at least
twenty students looking in their direction, including a very confused-looking Ron and a
pleased Hermione. Then he shrugged, "Let them think what they want. You're alright in my
book."

"I would think so," Tracey said with a wry, barely-visible grin, "given a few days ago. I am
still... sore."

"Sorry," he apologized, once again feeling a bit strange at how strongly he meant it.
"I am not," Tracey fired back, "As soon as next week I will be seeking you out again, if that
is acceptable. I wish to try... another prospect first."

"Oh. Er... okay," Harry nodded, only as she said it remembering that the girl's 'plan' was more
or less to be a slag as well, with the goal of lowering her bride-price to such a degree that no
one, specifically the person she was tentatively contracted to, would want her. Girls are
weird. But I'm not complaining, she's really cute, and a fun lay. Also, wasn't Nott contracted
to Daphne? I mean, it makes sense if their parents know about their relationship to try and
arrange for both girls to be with one husband, but... didn't they say they tried to keep it
secret?

That the girl was a lesbian (he guessed) and perfectly willing to shag several blokes didn't
bother him. As far as Harry was concerned, as he'd been learning from Lilith in drips and
drabbles, people's motivations and reasons for why they did things were their own. If it made
sense to her... it didn't have to make sense to anyone else. He'd just enjoy the benefits for
what they were.

Pansy was one of the last to arrive, and she walked in in a hurry, looking quite upset, and
made a beeline for Tracey, ignoring Harry for the moment as she set out her things. Again,
several of the other students sent strange looks in their direction, many of them apparently
more observant than he'd given anyone credit for, if they had noticed Pansy and Tracey not
sending barbs his way, or him returning the favor.

But as Pomona Sprout entered the greenhouse, her own good nature and cheer quickly
pushed worry, faint as it was, about what the other students were thinking out of Harry's
mind. "Good morning, students! It's good to see you all so bright and chipper after the
holidays, isn't it? Now, as many of you know, in the N.E.W.T.-level courses, we will be
delving into some of the rarer, not necessarily more dangerous, plants one might encounter
throughout the world. For the first half of this year only, until the Yule Holidays, we will be
continuing on in a similar vein to previous years, covering a species or set of species every
class or week.

"After Yule, however, the schedule will change. You will be tasked, in the first month of the
next year, with researching a type of plant that has gone extinct in the wild, or a type of
beneficial plant that could exist, but does not seem to. From there, you will take the
properties of the selected plant, and begin to compile a list of other plants with those
properties, be it one or many of them. From there... well, you'll just have to wait and see."

Harry had not had much experience with Professor Sprout joking like that, but most of the
Hufflepuffs, and Neville, easily laughed along with her teaser.

"To begin, of course, let's start with the basic run-down of safety procedures in the
Greenhouses. This one, number Eight, is filled with some of the safer N.E.W.T. species, but
it's still worth noting that consuming or imbibing any product of these plants could be more
toxic than you believe possible. We will not be making tea with them, so to speak. Now, I'm
sure you all remember the Mandrakes you covered in your second year, yes? How familiar
are you with the adult form of the plant, I wonder? Yes, of course, Mr. Longbottom...?"
 Coming Apart, Coming Together
Chapter Summary

Shorter chapter, but good character growth. Also probably some smut, 'cause you know
me...

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 28: Coming Apart, Coming Together

Transfiguration, the last class before lunch for all of them, went by quickly and in a similar
fashion as Professor McGonagall, who strangely skipped over Lyra in the roll-call and didn't
seem to notice her presence throughout the class, went over her aims for the course with an
emphasis in how much harder the class work would be at N.E.W.T. level, before assigning
them a written quiz based on information they had covered well over the previous five years,
but also with at least ten questions toward the end that required mid-summer reading.

Needless to say, only a few Ravenclaws and Hermione had any real chance on those ones,
though Harry felt he answered at least two of the final ten questions right. He hoped.

Charms was a bit more interesting, though, as the lively, part-Goblin Professor Flitwick took
an immediate interest in Lyra, distracting himself with his own curious questions toward the
'transfer student' who had been 'adopted' by the close friends, in his words. Eventually,
though, he remembered that he had a class to teach as Hermione grew more visibly frustrated
by the lack of learning going on in one of her (ten?) favorite classes, and raised her hand,
"Professor, were we going to have a lesson today?"

"Er, y- yes, of course, my- my apologies, Miss Granger," Flitwick had laughed in his high,
tinny voice, "I'm afraid I lost track! Yes, well- suffice it to say, things will be harder, we'll be
covering many more difficult spells this year, but I have faith all of you can handle them- the
many Patronus Charms I saw during the Defense testing last year! Remarkable!
"At any rate, Nonverbal Casting will be a heavy component within the first few weeks of
many of your classes, so let's start with an explanation there. Ah, yes, go ahead, Miss
Granger..."

Again, Harry's class time began to fly by, as one of his own favorite classes- everyone loved
Flitwick, and Charms were fun for most people- turned toward the subject that had so
stumped both him and Ron the previous day. Of course, Hermione needed little coaching, but
by the end of the class, even Neville had managed to float a feather a few inches off the desk
without a verbal incantation, thanks to Flitwick's endless patience and thorough knowledge of
the subject.

Finally, they were let free, and half-way down the hall toward the great staircase at the heart
of Hogwarts, Ron leaned in toward the others, "So... private quarters for the free period?"

Hermione snorted and growled, "You're insatiable, Ron! There's more to life than- than food
and-" her voice dropped to a not-that-quiet whisper, "and- sex!"

"Not sure why you included the food," Lyra hissed back in return, grinning toward Harry, "as
they're one and the same to me."

"Yes, well, that's you," Hermione scowled without real heat, "but I'm a bit worn out and sore
from yesterday, so if you don't mind, I think I'll drop my things off and go-"

"To the library," Ron and Harry finished together.

"Yes, exactly," Hermione finished with a huff, walking a bit faster so she pulled away a bit,
"and then yes, I'll go to the Common Room. I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight."

"You didn't sleep in your bed last night?" Pansy, also in their class though Harry hadn't had a
need to sit next to her again thanks to Daphne, Tracey, and several other male Slytherins
being in the class as well. "Whose bed did you sleep in, then? Potter's? Weasley's? Brown's?"

Hermione gave an indignant huff, "None of your business, Parkinson."

"Hey," Harry interrupted, sending both a glare, "You both need to calm down. Pansy- quit
being a cow to Hermione. Hermione, quit being rude to Pansy."

The Slytherin girl reeled as if she'd been slapped, and actually came up short, falling behind
them again.

Hermione kept walking, of course, leaving the rest to catch up. The moment Harry did, she
sent a furious glare his way, "I can't believe you're defending her after what she said, Harry!
She's a complete cow, and-"

"She's actually fairly kind," Harry said quietly, "and she's... had a change of heart recently."

"I'm sure she has," Hermione snorted, turning away and walking faster still, "what, did you
shag her rotten, too?"
Harry's blood chilled, and for the first time ever, he felt the urge to slap his best female
friend. Not to hurt her- he wasn't that kind of person- but to hopefully knock some sense into
her. Instead, though, he grabbed her arm, hauling the smaller figure to a halt in the middle of
the wide hall, to lean in and growl, "Yes, I did, a few times, as you already know. And yes,
that's related to her change of heart. I haven't had a chance to tell you everything, but she's
not who you think. You preach tolerance to me, tell me to ignore the slights, to let them go-
and then do this? That's hypocrisy, Hermione."

"Let me go, Harry," she said furiously, brown eyes glinting darkly as her hair began to bunch
up with static.

He did at once, not suddenly, but as casually as he could to prove that he had no intention of
actually holding her there. Hermione wasn't done, though. "Of all the people... her. Shag
whoever you want, I don't care, but telling me off for defending myself? I can't believe you'd
do that, Harry. After- after the things she's done and said to all of us, to me. I can't... I'd never
have put it past you."

Then she was gone in a flurry of robes and clattering shoes on the tiles, nearly stomping
away. "Ouch," Ron said, rubbing his face, looking suddenly tired, "I'll... I'll go talk to her. But
I need to know, Harry... is that true? I know you said you shagged her, but..."

Harry glanced back down the hall to see Pansy where she'd stopped some younger years still
flowing around her on their way to their next class or dinner, looking stricken. "Yes," he
replied, glancing at Lyra, "I've been with Pansy a couple of times, and now there's three
Slytherins total. And yes, I believe they've changed. I'll explain when I tell Hermione,
alright? It just- it kept slipping my mind over the summer. Obvious reasons."

Ron nodded, looking back and Pansy, then shaking his head toward Harry, "Alright, well...
I'll take your word for it for now. Don't go expecting me to drop trou for one of them, though.
Can't trust 'em that much, myself. Still, I can see how what Pansy said would upset
Hermione, but I don't think she meant it that way. More just curiosity, wasn't it?"

Harry shrugged, "That's how I took it."

Lyra, who had been silent for a few minutes now, nodded, "That's all it was. I'll go with you,
Ron, to tell Hermione that, if nothing else."

"Alright, well- good luck with your snake, Harry," Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder as
he took off toward not the Tower, but the Library. No doubt, Hermione would be half-way
there already.

Which left Harry to go back down the hall with new intentions, and gently put a hand on
Pansy's shoulder.

She started, looking up at him. "P- Potter..."

"Come on," he urged quietly, "follow me. Ron's gone to talk to her, but I think I need to talk
to you. Are you okay?"
"I'm- I'm fine," the witch said in a monotone, "Why- why wouldn't I be?"

Harry sighed, "Oh, I'm sure I can think of something. Come on, follow me. Down a floor,
almost right below us."

She didn't move, but after Harry put a gentle hand on her elbow, ignoring another rush of
curious looks and whispers from many of the other students in the slowly-clearing hall, Pansy
started walking as if on autopilot, guided more by Harry than herself.

The door to his assigned private quarters opened without a word as he neared it, something
that Harry had been delighted to observe earlier that day. Approaching with the intent to pass
through seemed to be all it required, but for him alone. Ron had nearly walked into the door
in his haste to try it that morning. But as long as Harry intended to let others through, like his
friends, they could freely pass.

It was an ingenious set-up, one that Harry wanted to speak with Hermione about as soon as
he could. When she's calm enough to, he amended in his head, before guiding Pansy to sit at
the comfortable couch, then offering, "D'you want a drink or something?"

"No," the girl replied, just as tonelessly as before, "thank you."

With no other distraction available, Harry sat down, facing the girl, on the edge of the couch
and reached forward to take one of her manicured, royal purple-painted hands and hold onto
it gently. "I'm sorry for- the way Hermione reacted. I can see why she did, but... you were just
curious, right? Surely you've put some things together."

This time, Pansy didn't respond immediately. When she did, several minutes later, the
familiar sarcastic tones were at least making a small come-back. "I'm sure all our little group
have figured out she's shagging both of you. Probably half the school suspects it, anyway, and
the rest are sure, even without reason to be. I was..."

Pansy fell quiet, sniffled, then sounded genuinely remorseful when she spoke next. Harry
watched a single tear roll down her cheeks while she did, "I was trying to be nice. To... to
make up for... well, everything. It just... it didn't come out right, and I know I sounded like a
cow. I've acted that way for so long, it was just... just natural, I suppose. But I didn't mean it
that way. I..."

"I know," Harry murmured, giving her hand on his lap a gentle squeeze.

"I wanted to know if Weasley was a good shag too," Pansy whispered, "I wasn't going to
pester or anything, but... judging by you, Granger's got good taste in men, so... now, I've gone
and made things worse. Made her fight with you, and..."

Harry snorted, "We're going to be fine by tomorrow on that front, I can promise you. Ron and
Lyra know what they're about as far as getting Hermione to calm down and listen to reason.
Getting her to let... well, five years of mistreatment is going to take some time. It's worth the
work, though. She's a good friend to have, and I think you are, too."
"I'm terrible," Pansy sniffled again, turning away but still not, as far as Harry could tell, really
taking in the comfortable suite. "I've done and said so many nasty things to so many people,
and I... it feels like I could spend my whole life and never make up for even half of it."

"You don't need to," Harry urged, "just be who you are now, and people will let the rest go.
It'll take time, of course, but... do I seem like I hate you? You've said as much to me as
Hermione, I'm sure."

Pansy hiccupped, whispered, "Not even half," but didn't elaborate.

After a few more minutes, she murmured, "I need a loo, and to wash my face. Is there
one...?"

"Either of those doors," he pointed to the two appropriate doors, "that one is an ensuite, the
other is stand-alone."

"Thanks," Pansy replied, pushing herself up briskly.

"Master, she's in the Library," Lyra thought to him a few seconds after the door closed,
"Ron's talking to her now while I run interference. Your Librarian might just find a couple of
seventh-years shagging in the stacks in a bit, but for now we're safe. Mm... wouldn't mind
having a ride on that one myself, but the girl's only so-so."

Harry rolled his eyes- if any of them were insatiable, it was Lilith, followed by Harry, and
then maybe Ron. "Thanks, Pet. Pansy's using the loo in my bedroom, so you might urge Ron
to the right if he takes Hermione in there to calm down."

"Will do. I'm sure I don't need to tell you to be gentle."

Harry grinned, but before he could formulate a reply, Ginny stepped into the quarters, looking
breathless but excited. "Ron or Hermione here?"

Harry shook his head, smiling as he stood up to greet the girl more properly.

"Great," Ginny exhaled breathily, dropping her bag to the ground next to the door and
shucking her robes to hang them on the hook by the door before striding toward him, already
reaching for her vest. "I'm randy, Master."

Harry laughed as the small witch threw herself at him, tongue moving against his lips as her
arms circled his waist to grope his arse. "What got into you, Pet?"

"Neville's fat dick," she murmured, dropping from her toes to nibble at Harry's collarbone,
"he and Hannah Abbot were behind the Greenhouses when Herbology got out, rutting away
just below the window. I didn't stay, not sure if she'd share, but..."

Harry grinned, "I'm not sure either, but as she's asked to shag me a few times, it wouldn't be
fair otherwise. Still... good for Neville. Lyra blowing him in the morning, and Hannah
shagging him in the afternoon."
"I want him too," Ginny whispered, one hand leaving his rear to go to the front of his
trousers, and grab at Harry's growing cock through the fabric, "but I want you more, Master."

In response, with a teasing grin, Harry stepped backward, out of her hands. "Follow me, then,
Pet," he urged.

The younger girl's eyes widened as she saw the 'dungeon' for the first time. "Is this...? A play-
room?"

"It is, Pet," he whispered, stepping behind her and putting his hands around her to cup each
modest breast. Ginny leaned back into him, sighing and grinding her own arse into his
erection gracefully as he enjoyed her body in return. "Ron took Lilith's cute little bum on that
bed yesterday," he informed her as, with his hands roving over her lithe body and groin
urging her forward, he guided the girl in that direction.

"Have you... tried that?" she whispered.

Harry grinned, "You remember Lilian, my social worker? I think Lilith showed you that
form?"

Ginny nodded against him.

"As her, yeah," Harry whispered, "It was nice, but not an every day thing for sure."

Ginny groaned against him, "Can... can we...?"

"You want me to fuck you in the ass?"

She groaned again, grinding that very body part against him harder, but Harry only laughed,
bucking forward so that Ginny stumbled toward the bed, catching herself as he let go with
her hands on the mattress. "I don't know, Pet... it can hurt. Maybe over the weekend so you
can heal before classes."

"Mm... want it," Ginny murmured, shaking her tooshy for him again and flipping her skirt up
to reveal clean, plain white knickers of cotton, where a wide, damp spot made her pussy
visible through it.

Harry grinned and fell to his knees, put his hands on the small but very firm cheeks, and
buried his face between her arse cheeks, tonguing her through the underwear with vigor. "Oh
God, Harry," Ginny gasped, one hand flying back to cover his as he kneaded her rear, and
leaving it there to knead herself when he pulled out from beneath it to shove her knickers
aside for better access.

She was, he already knew, unshaven, but had only sparse, curly dark-red pubic hair around
her cunt, with a bit thicker growth on top. Harry, of course, didn't really care either way. He
was already lost in how she was groaning and moaning before his oral assault as his tongue
started thrusting into her channel, how the girl's knees shook when he flicked the tip of his
tongue against her tiny clit. "You taste fucking great. Like... cinnamon-apple pie. I love your
pussy, Gin..."
"Oh, f- fuuuuck," the witch sighed, entire body quaking as he renewed his attack, but this
time pushed a finger into her twat, twisting and twirling it, curling the first knuckle,
straightening it, and moving his tongue to swirl her labia. "Need your dick, Harry. I need it!
Been... been too long!"

He grinned while he stood up and reminded her, "It's only the second day of term, we
shagged on the carriages, remember?"

"Too long," Ginny cried out desperately, "give it to me!"

"As you will, Pet," Harry whispered, "just this once."

He pushed in, feeling her already shaking and fluttering around his entire length, slamming to
the very depths of Ginny's body in a single, quick motion. He held himself there with his
hands on the girl's hips as she trembled through the long, powerful orgasm. "Just from
coming inside? Slutty girl," he whispered, then lifted a hand and brought it down, hard, on
the cheek she wasn't cupping.

Ginny cried out, a sharp noise to match the sound of the slap, but didn't protest. Instead, she
let out a little, dog-like whining sound and ground her hips, twisting them against his. Harry,
eager to try another position he'd only been able to do with the very flexible Lilith before
now, said, "Give me your hands, love."

The red-head looked back as she lifted one and pushed the other behind her. Harry took them
by the wrists, both, and hauled her upper torso back, which made her arms twist to the limit.
Ginny cried out, and he asked, "Does that hurt, Pet?"

"N- no," Ginny hissed, grinding on him again and trying to make her body move in extremely
unusual ways to pull herself off his impaling cock a bit while he held her backwards by the
arms. "It's uncomfortable, but... oh, God... gonna come again... fuck me, Harry, fuck me!"

He obliged the girl, slamming her body forward with his hips then yanking her back onto him
by the arms, just hard enough on the recoil that he knew she felt it, but not quite enough, he
hoped, to really hurt. He could just make out the edges of the slender witch's breasts swaying
through her shirt, more easily watched her long, vibrant hair flapping in the motion of her
body, sliding this way and that across the narrow, toned back.

The rhythm of flesh against flesh quickened, and Ginny's head rose. Harry imagined her face,
not that he could see it, opened in a silent scream of pleasure as he sped up further still.

"Oi, mate," Ron's voice suddenly called from the doorway, "At least shut the door if you're
gonna shag my sister!"

Harry, startled like Ginny, didn't react for a moment. She recovered first, so Harry watched as
Ginny, eyes fogged with arousal and lust, turned to look at her brother over her shoulder.
Harry, proud he'd made her so far gone so quickly, looked too, but in a different way. With an
almost sadistic grin, Harry lifted her further upward by the arms, pulling Ginny nearly
upright, but with her chest arched back as her ass and cunt continued to rebound against him,
he urged her to spin around. Half-insensate, Ginny did not resist, and within a few stumbling,
halting steps, she was facing her brother, dressed but clearly getting shagged silly, her skirt
waving. "Couldn't be bothered," Harry told his best mate, hammering upward as much as
forward now, over Ginny's shoulder. "How's Hermione?"

Ron didn't back away, didn't recoil or protest. Instead, seemingly unwillingly, his eyes moved
down to his sister's legs, which Harry knew by smell were drenched in her juices, probably
all the way down to her calf-high socks, then followed the shaking lines back up to where he
was plowing into her. He shrugged, taking one halting, hesitant step forward, then conjured a
chair of his own to sit down about eight feet away. "She'll live. She's mad, but... Lyra's still
talking to her."

"R- Ron," Ginny gasped, but never finished the sentence as another orgasm ripped through
her.

Harry, mid-thrust still and without missing a beat, let go of the girl's arms to throw his own
around her body, one above and one below her breasts, holding her close as he kept rutting.
His best mate seemed... confused, maybe, judging by the expression on his face, not that
Harry could devote too much mental energy to it at the moment, but also...

He watched as Ron reached down to adjust himself in his school trousers, and grinned. Lilith,
he knew, would be pleased to get that image, if he knew her own eventual plans. Plans Harry
had to admit that he now shared entirely. It was a fun little project, if nothing else.

As Ginny's climax ended and another started approaching almost at once, Harry
painstakingly pulled out. She whimpered and cried out, reaching back for him with both
hands, as he fell from her body with a faint popping noise, and a long dribble of her juices
began to fall, swaying with her motions, between her legs.

Harry and Ron both watched that for a moment, before Harry let go of the girl's neck and
torso. Apparently unaware or entirely uncaring that her brother was a few feet from her face
as she did it, Ginny half-crouched with her hands at her knees and waved her pert little arse
for Harry again. "Harry... put it back in, please!"

He grinned, looked up at Ron, then reached for her skirt, pulling it down to her knees, then
bent at his own and lined up with his hands on her shoulders now, and pushed home once
more. Then, more gently as he started pumping vigorously, he pulled her mostly upright
again.

Ron's eyes widened as he realized, one hand gripping his erection through his pants, that he
was watching his best friend shag his sister without being 'in the heat of the moment', and
from just a few feet away. Realized that he was watching his sister's cunt split wide open by a
thick dick, his best friend's dick, watching her cry like a back-alley whore as she came
again...

He was so hard!

What he wouldn't give for Harry to take two more steps forward so he could pull her down by
the hair and put his own in her mouth!
No...

Harry watched, internally delighted even as his body started to shudder and twitch too, as
Ron's mind warred with itself. He could sense, somehow, his best friend's 'forbidden desire'
growing, and the previously insurmountable 'no, that's bad' beginning to fade, just a little.

It was suddenly too much, and Harry slammed a hand down onto Ginny's belly as his cock
swelled again. He felt, through his hand and the girl's own body, as his seed hit the entrance
of her womb, felt her shudder in a climax without other warning, and she cried out, "Harry!"
Again, he felt another spurt hit her insides with both hand and dick as he bottomed out, and a
third. "Merlin, I can feel it in your womb," he gasped, amazed.

"So full," Ginny groaned, and her hands fell back to her knees to try and instinctively hold
her steady, "love cum..."

Ron coughed. "Er... I'm- I'm gonna go... find..."

Before he was out the door, which took no time at all, Harry was grinning at his back. Slowly,
he turned again as he pulled out of Ginny, and guided her back to the bed, where he helped
her lay down, dripping copious amounts of his jizz and her own juice, onto the mattress.
"Missed cock," Ginny murmured sleepily.

Harry chuckled. Moments later, she was asleep, snoring quietly and cutely, furred cunny still
open to the air. Harry decided to leave her like that, skirt around her knees and all, but had the
decency, as he tucked himself back into his pants, to shut the door.

Only then, as he spotted Pansy's backpack, did he remember she was there, and went to go
check on her, worried she might've spotted him.

He found not just her, but Ron, too.

Ron was standing just inside the doorway of the bedroom, cock in his hands, looking even
more conflicted as he stroked himself.

Pansy was clearly asleep on the bed, fully clothed and on top of the covers, but her skirt had
ridden up to reveal other white panties and the glorious legs Harry had so loved feeling
around his waist.

"Fucking can't believe I'm wanking to a Slytherin," Ron muttered, clearly aware Harry was
there. "Better- better'n my sister."

Harry grinned, whispered, "Don't wake her up, or she'll be pissed. Don't forget to clean up
your mess, too."

Then, door still open this time, he turned back to the common room to get a brief start on his
homework before dinner.
 By Starlight
Chapter Summary

Plot developments in the offing.

That is all.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Just sayin'. ;)
Sorry it's a day later than usual. Been busy. Discord or Pat- oh, I can't say that here- followers
will know why.

Chap. 29: By Starlight

Though Harry sported a half-erect dick for most of dinner, there were surprisingly few sexual
thoughts going through his head. He was more concerned with Hermione, who sat apart from
him, Ron and Neville, with a cluster of girls gathered around her, including Parvati and her
twin sister Padma, Lavender Brown, and Lyra.

Ginny was, thanks to Harry, otherwise occupied and might just miss dinner, which was why
he was gathering up some food to take up to the quarters for her. A quick glance at the rest of
the hall told him that Pansy hadn't made it down, either- nor had Draco Malfoy.

The witch's friends were speaking in hushed tones, and one of them, never the same one
twice, would occasionally glance in his vague direction. Crabbe and Goyle on the other hand,
were already spending a great deal less time with Draco after the fiasco (for them) atop the
Astronomy Tower the previous year, and didn't even seem to notice that their former 'friend'
had missed dinner. Come to think of it, I don't think he made it to lunch, either. I know I saw
the prick at breakfast, though. Huh. I'd worry he was trying to do something to Pansy, but
she's probably just still in the quarters. Still, I wonder where he is...?

Harry had to put it from his mind for the moment though, not having any real access to the
information. He could put Lyra, invisible, on the case. He could do it himself with his Cloak.
Both would be time-consuming. Or... he could wait until after dinner, head up to his
dormitory, and get the Marauder's Map from his trunk.

Ron prodded Harry's shoulder, and looked toward Hermione, who was getting up. "I'm gonna
go talk to her again. Might be staying in the dorm, but if I can convince her, I'll send her back
to the quarters tonight."

"Okay," Harry acknowledged as the tall boy stood up. By now, about half of the tables were
empty and there were only a few staff members left, but Harry still wasn't in any mood to
hurry himself. Of course, Ginny and Lyra would always be willing, and Pansy might be too,
but Harry wanted to stretch his reach a bit further this night. He had definitely had fun for the
first two nights back at Hogwarts, but it was time to add another notch, so to speak. At least,
if he could find someone. Only, as he looked out over the Great Hall, it seemed the biggest
problem was that there were too many options to choose. Demelza, Luna maybe, Susan, if he
could convince her. Tracey or Daphne, or (Harry grinned to himself) both, or maybe even one
or both of the Carrow twins, now that he'd gotten a hint they weren't the raging cows he had
thought for so long. Marietta was out of the question, as she'd graduated the previous year.
He didn't know many other girls in any house that were seventh-years aside from the Carrow
twins, now that he thought about it, but Harry knew several in the year-group down. Demelza
Robbins, Romilda Vane, who had been giving him eyes for the last few months of the
previous year, too.

Harry shook his head. The latter girl, Vane, was pretty enough but clearly a boy-who-lived
fangirl, and he'd never appreciate that. He was startled from his internal debate when a
curvaceous girl with a pair of cornsilk-blonde plaits dropped into the seat next to him and
smiled at the boy across from her, "Hiya, Neville, evening, Harry."

"Er, hi, Hannah," he acknowledged, fighting to ignore the memories of the last time he'd
really 'spoken' to Hannah. Neville, fortunately, didn't realy blush in his own greeting, though
Harry noticed his friend eyeing the object of his affection's breasts (though he wasn't the only
one, as Hannah wasn't small and had at least two buttons of her blouse undone, now that
classes were over and teachers, in theory, not as worried about following the dress code).

"So, I'm bored," Hannah murmured, resting her chin on her right hand with the elbow on the
table as she leaned over it toward Neville, "Susan's studying, but I'm already done, and
everyone else is worried they won't keep up with the school-work they've got. What are you
two gentlemen doing this evening?"

Neville, suddenly looking worried, glanced toward Harry, who smiled back.

Hannah, while she waited for an answer, glanced around the Gryffindor table to find it mostly
empty now, only the Patil sisters and Lavender still on the far end of the table to the left with
a couple of fourth- or fifth-years he wasn't very familiar with on the other end.

"Er, I wasn't, uh, planning anything," Neville shrugged, "But- I guess we could go for a walk?
It's still warm, I think."

"Ooh, good idea," Hannah urged, and Harry jumped slightly as she leaned more toward
Neville but dropped her left hand to his own thigh, then slid up it to massage his crotch. The
girl quickly followed up his half-erect self, which hardened down his trouser leg, and started
to massage and squeeze it even while she smiled sweetly at Neville. Neville, who had been
'cheating' on her with Lyra, who had encouraged Harry to take Hannah's virginity... "Let's go,
Neville. Say... out by the greenhouses?"

Harry watched as the boy blushed immediately, all the confirmation he needed that Ginny
was accurate in her claims that she had seen them shagging. He, in turn, grinned, "That
sounds fun. Mind if I tag along?"

Neville swallowed, wide-eyed, and looked between him and Hannah. The girl, though, only
continued smiling widely, eyes half-lidded, while she answered, "Of course not, Harry. We're
friends, right? I don't mind at all if you come with me- er, us."

Predictably, he was more than willing, though Neville was a bit more reluctant.

Still, he accompanied the pair, flanking the witch with his dorm-mate, down onto the grounds
which were swiftly darkening from dusk to twilight, and the last of the orange fading to deep
purple on the horizon. But Hogwarts itself would be well-lit for at least another hour, ample
time for a walk and some fun, if Neville was truly alright with it.

It seemed they weren't the only ones with that idea, though, as several other older couples
were prowling the various trails, hand in hand, and most frequently kissing or more.

Half-way to the Greenhouses, Neville was still looking quite uncomfortable even though
Hannah had put her hand in his, so Harry decided to offer him an out, "Hey, you two are
dating, right? Like..."

"Are you asking if Neville's my boyfriend?"

He nodded.

"No," Hannah said with a light-hearted tone, "he hasn't asked me yet."

"Er- oh. Oh," the boy in question said with a cough and a stumble, "I... I sort of... forgot.
Um... Hannah, d'you- d'you wanna go out with me? As my girlfriend?"

Harry of a year ago, and even more a year before that, would have been aghast at the ease
with which the shy boy had forced out the words, but now he knew that not only was Neville
made of sterner stuff that most people realized, but that talking to girls was pretty easy. It
only seemed hard before you got used to it.

Hannah, of course, beamed to Harry's left, "Of course, Neville. I'd love to be your girlfriend.
Now, come on, hurry. I'm randy."

Harry joined his friend in stumbling slightly at the blunt declaration, but caught up a bit more
easily than Neville. "Er, I should go," he announced, trying to give Neville one more chance
to say no.

"But we already shagged today," Neville muttered under his breath.

"Are you turning me down, boyfriend...? I'm offering you sex. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that," Neville hissed, glancing around and leaning in despite that Harry
knew full well no one was in earshot. There weren't that many couples out. "I just- it never
seems... never seems like it's enough."

Harry was starting to feel a little uncomfortable himself with the admission, but Hannah had
her reply ready to go at once. "That's why Harry's here," she told him, "Not because he's
better- even if he is for now- but so you can watch and learn. I love you, Neville Longbottom.
I do. And you aren't bad. But I like sex, and I want it to be good between us. Great. Not just
average. So... consider this a one-time lesson, if nothing else. Is that... is that okay, Harry?"

The witch's confidence seemed to have dwindled during her monologue, but thankfully, for
this, Harry had an answer too. "It's fine, of course, I'm happy to help."

"Happy to shag me," Hannah shot back with a giggle, "not that I'm complaining."

"That too," Harry admitted, sending a look behind the cheerful girl's back toward Neville,
who looked a bit lost and anxious, but the other boy didn't meet his eye. "I mean...can you
blame me? You're very good-looking."

"Thanks," she replied, taking up Harry's hand too, as they reached the first of the ten
greenhouses in two rows of five. But Harry was not led to the spaces between the
greenhouses, as Ginny had told them they'd used earlier. Instead, Hannah pulled the two
young men toward Greenhouse Five, and bypassed the door, circling around it toward Ten.

"Er, we shouldn't use this," Neville murmured, glancing in, "Professor Sprout keeps a pretty
close eye on these for the N.E.W.T. students, and they're her own personal work, so..."

Hannah only grinned, and turned the last corner, then let go of both their hands to reveal a
ladder that had been hidden in the grass. "Set this up after you scarpered, Nev," she said with
a giggle, "just because Weasley saw us doesn't mean you have to be a scaredy-cat."

"Hey, I- I finished," Neville muttered, looking away.

"And I did too," Hannah assured him as she set the fifteen-foot poles against the shorter edge
of the same greenhouse, "but I wasn't satisfied, and I want more, hence this little thing. Come
on, up we go."

Both boys couldn't help but stare upward at the busty tomboy's arse as she started climbing
the ladder. Harry, while he did so, leaned to the side, "Seriously, Neville, if it makes you
uncomfortable..."

"N- no, it's fine," Neville replied, staring upward himself, "I... I kind of knew this was
coming. She told me she came like, five times earlier, I just... she seems to like it a lot. I told
her I didn't mind if- if she went to you, but... then this."

Harry shook his head, clapping Neville on the shoulder, "Well, for what it's worth, I really
don't mind, but I don't think you have to be jealous. Lyra and Ginny both want you, too, so
you must be doing something right."

Hannah's head poked over just then, "Oh, Lyra and Ginny want my boyfriend's cock? And are
you two coming?"

"Not yet," Harry shot up, smiling.

"Well, get up here, then," Hannah laughed, vanishing again.

"Come on," Neville murmured one more time, then started upward himself.

Like all the greenhouses, there was a storage closet on one end which wasn't made of glass,
and covered the entire end. Each had supplies, for the plants within each greenhouse, from
earmuffs for the Mandrakes in Four this year, to hoes, rakes, and even a small selection of
Potions Harry had noticed in the one they were using in Herbology this term. It was on that
more sturdy surface that Hannah had apparently also stowed away a blanket or three, and a
large glass bottle that had a peculiar logo upon the label- one he'd seen before.

"Superior Red," Hannah said, shaking it, "couldn't get away with glasses, but you don't mind
sharing, do you, Harry?"

He took the bottle as she held it out, squinting in the moon- and castle-light to read the label.
"Malfoy vineyards. You paid Lucius Malfoy for this?"

"Not directly," she shrugged, "I actually got it from the Leaky Cauldron. It's supposed to be
really good, but obviously I don't drink a lot, I just turned of-age. It's supposed to be at least a
thousand years old. Not sure how it isn't vinegar if it is, but..."

"Beats me," Harry shrugged, and handed it back to the witch, "Don't personally feel the need,
but if you want to, it won't bother me."

"I'm fine without it," Hannah shrugged, offering it next to Neville as she bent down to her
picnic basket with the other hand, "I think I'm done being shy about what makes me happy."

"Er, n- no, I'm g-good," Neville muttered too.

Hannah simply shrugged and lowered the bottle into the basket, then pulled out what she'd
apparently been searching for, a small square cube. "This," she held up, "will record about
thirty minutes of the area, sort of like those super-rare pensieves, but it keeps the memory
inside itself. I've already used maybe five minutes, so once I start it, we should, uh... get to
the point. I want you, Harry, to make love to me first. Show Neville how it's done. But if you
can, like... explain what you're doing, and why. Okay? So later..."

"He- or you- can play it back for a review?"

Hannah nodded, grinning, and tossed the cube into the air before catching it, "Exactly." Then
she reached into the basket one more time and pulled out a long stick, maybe a foot, and held
it with the cube in the same hand, before pulling out here wand. "Epoximus. Engorgio."
Now holding a ten-foot pole, give or take a few inches, with a cube affixed to it, Hannah told
the boys, "Okay, I'm going to turn it on and hold the pole up. One of you needs to stick it to
the roof. Just the sticking charm, not the permanent one."

"Okay," Harry agreed easily, impressed by the girl's preparations given how little time she'd
had to set this up. Unless, he reminded himself while he pulled out his wand and took aim,
she's had this part planned for a while. Those cubes have to be expensive.

One quick spell later, Hannah had taken four steps away, glanced at the cube, and then half a
step back toward them, "Okay, Harry. Do your thing."

He grinned, glancing one last time at Neville, who shrugged and made a 'get on with it' sort
of motion.

Harry stepped forward into the faint light he could see that denoted the scanning area of the
elevated magical 'camera', and began to undress the girl, whispering things he knew both she
and Neville could hear. He made a point, as he went, to tell the girl how much he appreciated
and liked her, how much he loved her body as each bare inch was revealed, how he adored
the heft and shape of her glorious tits as he moved behind Hannah, turning her to face the
camera and Neville as he began to play with them.

By the time she was fully undressed, Harry's own shirt was off, tossed to the side as well, and
his trousers were attached to only one leg, but he had stopped caring. Still explaining what he
was doing and why, much like Lilith had explained the details to him in his first few weeks
after he'd Contracted with her, Harry made sure that Neville would, if not from this night, get
a good education from the review.

Only then, Hannah already moaning and breathing hard, sweaty against him in the warm fall
night, did Harry dip one hand between her legs and spread the lower lips wide. As he
fingered and circled there, he made it a point to explain to Neville and the camera both
exactly where the most erogenous, or at least sensitive, spots were, and then raised two
fingers in a V-shape. "This is how big a g-spot is on most girls," he told the other boy, who
gasped, "there's plenty of things in there to give a girl pleasure, you just need to make sure
you're hitting it. Okay, Hannah... lay down. It's time for your first one."

Hazy-eyed, the blonde did so quickly, dropping to the roof of the greenhouse without
question before spreading out the blanket she'd brought, and spreading her legs wide.

Harry grinned, gesturing Neville forward, who glanced up at the camera twice before
stepping into its field himself, then crouching low. "See," Harry kept explaining, "the Labia
Majora, Labia Minora, the Clitoris... beneath and behind that is what most people think is the
G-spot, and that's where it's the strongest, but like I said... as big as two fingers, split down
the sides of her vagina."

Harry demonstrated, first, by slipping his fingers inside, the first digit of both hands, and
pulling wide, not that either he or Neville could see anything in the now evening light. "You
can stimulate with your fingers, or..."
He stopped talking for several minutes as he leaned down and put his mouth to other use,
which culminated in the witch's hips thrashing from side to side and vertically, before
drenching Harry's mouth with a powerful jet of squirt that he swallowed without hesitation,
the ginger flavor a glad reminder that it had been Hannah who had been blowing him in the
broom-closets soon after meeting Lilith.

Then Harry pulled away, glanced at his own watch, and told the boy, "And with your dick?
Well, it's easy enough. Don't just pump in and out... vary it up. Change positions. Let her
move, watch how she does it so she enjoys it, and learn from that."

Harry hiked up her knees onto his shoulders, forcing Neville, who was wide-eyed and staring
intently, to move to a position beside Hannah's head, before pushing his erection between her
firm, thick thighs and thrusting a few times, then taking it by the head, buried between them,
in one hand reached around her legs, and pushing it down against her rounded but only just
abdomen.

Huh, goes past her belly-button too.

Then he pulled out, and without further warning- they'd had the chance to change their
minds, Harry reasoned, before asking to film him fucking Hannah- he did just that, diving
into her core with her legs against his chest, framing his face.

"Ungh," Hannah grunted with the impact, and one hand reached down her body to hold over
where her stomach bulged further with the size of Harry's member fully sheathed inside her,
gasping, and the other reached up past her shoulder for Neville's collar. She fumbled for it for
several seconds while Harry let her body adjust to him again, then yanked her boyfriend
down to give him a searing kiss.

Harry grinned as he started pumping, using the hand that had been on his head to slip
Hannah's up onto her own bare breasts, which he'd already covered in detail with mouth and
fingers, leaving her to add to her pleasure while he began to thumb her clit in tight circles.
She was juicy and wet, her fluids running down the crack between her cheeks and already
dripping from his swinging balls, and Harry had to admit he really liked fucking this girl due
to how quickly she lost control and wanted more, more, all the time.

Speaking of which...

"I want your cock," Hannah gasped, head twisting backward so her body arched tantalizingly,
"Nev... give it to me, please!"

"Er... Harry's..."

The wizard just mentioned continued pumping himself into and out of the steamy tunnel as
he watched Hannah look incredulously up at her boyfriend, open her mouth wide, and point.

Neville, in turn, blushed, "I... I've never... isn't that, you know... icky?"

Suddenly, things became much more clear to Harry.

It wasn't that Neville was a bad lover (though he figured anyone not trained by a Succubus
could use pointers, and he didn't consider himself a great one yet either- not yet). It was that
Hannah, who had started training herself to give Neville blowjobs by blowing (presumably
several) other boys, really enjoyed that part, and she'd never convinced Neville to try it.

Early days, he thought, she had plenty of time to work on him, but... I'm not complaining
about the free pussy.

Sure, he could probably market the 'video' as a sex-teaching aid, but he was fine with Hannah
and Neville keeping this copy.

Lyra, though... She'd be up for it for sure.

There wasn't a reply back, which meant she was busy, but Harry didn't mind.

"Do it," he told the boy, "trust me. Hannah gives great head. Second-best h- girl I know."
Third best if we include non-humans, thanks Lilith.

With some obvious reluctance, Neville finally freed himself, pushing his own pants to his
knees and stepping in.

It was the first time Harry had ever seen him erect and had a chance to look without the
succubus immediately burying him in an orifice, so Harry sent a curious glance his way
before returning his attention to Hannah. Neville was actually fairly large, too. Not as long as
Harry, not by a long shot, but of above-average length and quite wide. Wider even than he
himself by a bit, if Harry had to guess.

Watching the thick meat flop onto Hannah's mouth and seeing her eagerly open to receive it
made Harry's balls twitch and churn with an onrush of seed, but he wasn't ready to let it go,
not just yet. Instead, the pair awkwardly tried to find a good position on the slight slope of the
roof, before Harry shrugged and reluctantly pulled out of the girl. "Switch, Nev."

"But-" he protested, giving a small thrust into her mouth, "this- this-"

Hannah pulled off of him, her body sliding against the roof, "Fuck me, Neville, put your thick
dick in my dripping pussy. I want Harry in my mouth!"

Confused, the other boy knee-walked on the opposite side from Harry around Hannah, who
rolled over and pushed herself to her hands and feet, opening her legs a little to lower her
hips.

This, Neville was clearly more comfortable with, and he pushed into his girlfriend's twat
eagerly, groaning, "Hannah... Merlin, Hannah, you're so wet!"

Harry grinned, "It's the technique, I'm telling you. Now, open wide, Hannah... I want you to
taste your cum on my dick."

The light blue eyes dilated as she obeyed. Harry slipped one hand onto her throat, squeezing
lightly, and the other to the back of her head as he lined up and pushed in, just as hard as he
had for her cunt. Hannah choked once, briefly, as his heavy dick was forced past her tonsils
and uvula, but he already knew she was a champ, and she liked it deep. Harry pulled out two
inches, then slowly back in, "See, Neville? Hannah loves having a thick penis in her throat,
doesn't she?"

He knew she was giving a good-faith effort at speaking when her throat convulsed
rhythmically on him, and a small mewling sound escaped past her lips, "I think that was a
yes," he pronounced, and pulled out again, then back in, to the half-way point to let her take
one gasping breath through her nose.

Then Harry set to a slow pace, more gently letting her blow the top half of his dick while
Neville slammed into her increasingly sporadically from behind. The leisurely pace pushed
off his own impending orgasm, though his testicles ached with how much he'd built up in the
twenty minutes or so he'd been 'teaching', but as Neville's pounding pushed her onto his dick
more and more, faster and deeper, Harry reached down around Hannah with the hand not still
feeling her throat as it swelled and contracted around his man-flesh to take hold of one
pendulous mammary, giving it a rough, maybe even bruising, squeeze. "God, I love your
throat," he grunted, "Seriously, Hannah, you're amazing."

She was, Harry wasn't lying, but he was also saying it mostly for Neville's benefit (and in the
future, Hannah's), to encourage him toward letting the girl have her fun, too.

With a grunt, Harry was surprised as Neville yanked himself out of his girlfriend, and left one
hand on her arse while the other started pumping his thick dick, still slick with her juices, and
grunted.

Without other warning, a white line appeared in Hannah's sweaty hair, down her back.

Then another, and a third in the top of her arse crack, and a fourth, as Neville's unconscious
hip-thrusts pushed his member into the space, that covered his tip in milky white, too.

Only then, with his friend climaxing, did Harry let himself go, and the surge of cum that
erupted up his massive penis and down Hannah's throat would have made Lilith jealous,
Harry felt, with the number of times he felt a bulge travel down the length on its way. Fifteen
massive spurts in all, and a few smaller ones to cap it off, before Harry finally collapsed
backward, body shaking with the aftermath of his climax as Hannah's tonsils and tongue
pulled the last of his essence from his body and into hers.

Hannah started laughing, wiping some of the jizz off her ass and taking into her mouth, in a
delirious, almost hysterical fashion, before she rolled and flopped onto her back on the
rooftop, chest heaving enough to make her breasts swing, and stared at the sky. "That- that
was- that was- ah- amazing," she got out between pants, "Gods above, Harry, Nev... two at
once... shite..."

Neville nodded, panting himself, "Y- Yeah... um... we- we should get back..."

"Go," Hannah urged, waving a hand weakly up at him, "I know- I know you have homework.
I... I busted my ass... to get mine done... I'll- I'll clean up."
Without another word, but with some hesitation, Neville left his nude, cum-covered girlfriend
on the rooftop with Harry's dick still out, both breathing hard.

He had made it up to the castle and disappeared into the doors before Harry asked quietly,
"You know- you know he's had a blow-job before, right?"

Hannah nodded. "Your friend, right? The- the one you think is the best, right?"

"No," Harry laughed, "well, yes, but no. Er..."

He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he'd told Susan or Hannah about Lilith, yet. He
couldn't remember after several seconds, so he decided to play it safe and skirt the issue, "A
friend of mine, one of my lovers, blew him. A different friend took his virginity for you, and I
think he went back to her a second time, but he's probably only been with you... no, wait.
No... don't be mad. He has been with someone else- that same girl, the first blow-job, he's had
sex with her now, too."

"Who?" Hannah asked, looking upward toward him, since Harry was still sitting higher on
the roof, "I'm not mad, I'm just curious."

"Lyra," he said eventually, "On- on the carriages up to the school. She approached him."

"You saw it?"

He nodded in response to the quiet question. "Y- yeah. I was... with someone else, and Ron
and Hermione were... busy. Lyra... didn't want to be left out, I think."

Hannah closed her eyes, then slowly, softly, replied, "Good for him."

"You aren't upset?" Harry wasn't sure why he'd told the girl, or why he was worried about it.

Hannah was a long time answering his question, which meant she was seriously thinking
about it as the night air began to grow a little cooler, but was still warm enough she didn't
seem uncomfortable even without clothes, and they were on the far side of the castle so no
one would see much if they did spot them on the roof. "No... I'm not. I should be, I think,
but... I mean, I like being with you, and I... I kind of set this up to get another chance."

"I noticed," Harry laughed, reaching down to run a hand through the wild, long hair at the top
of her head that had escaped her plaits.

Hannah smiled, running fingernails down her breasts and stomach, wriggling luxuriously,
"You aren't complaining, right? Anyway... I meant what I said, though. I love Neville. I really
do, and I want to be his wife some day, the mother of his children. But I also know I'm
young, he's young, and there's... there's a lot more, you know, out there. I just want to have
some good fun while I'm still in school. So... so I don't think I should be jealous of him doing
the same. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," Harry admitted, "I kind of think Hermione is... doing the same thing.
Maybe."
"Granger?" Hannah laughed, "That girl is something else. You know I heard a rumor she was
shagging like, six people, including you and Ron? When she heard the rumor, she just
laughed and said it wasn't six yet. With an emphasis on the yet."

Harry laughed, but Hannah continued, running a hand between her curly yellow pubic hair
now, "I was sure at the time she said it just to freak the other person out, to shut them up or
something, but now... I mean... it's pretty obvious she's with you and Ron both."

"Yeah," he confirmed, but also sort of denied it without doing so, "but also not. I have been
with her. I might well in future. But things are... well, things around me, as usual, are weird."

Hannah didn't respond, only pulled her other hand back up to tweak a nipple, twisting and
rolling it between thumb and forefinger while he watched, dick slowly swelling again despite
the many times he'd climaxed already that day.

Neither said anything a few minutes later as Hannah rolled back over and put his dick back in
her mouth, sucking for several more minutes before she climbed up into Harry's lap, pushed
her tits into his face, and then lowered herself down. He suckled gently, kneading and playing
with her body, the other hand caressing in light touches or occasionally giving her a deep
squeeze as Hannah's hips rolled against his stomach and she rose and fell on his member over
and over.

"Think I'm going mad," she murmured after several minutes, her hands now around his neck
to hold him close as her slow grind transitioned to a faster bounce, "I just love... love sex so
much... never seems... enough..."

"Neville's a lucky guy, then," he told her seriously as his hands fell to her ass, one behind and
one in front of her body to help her rise and fall. He started to flex his cock as she came
down, each time making her gasp as the fatty tissue sung and slapped against his face.

"So are- so are you," Hannah reminded him, "'Cause- 'cause unless- un- he- he tells me- I- I
have to stop... gonna- Gods... gonna keep... shagging y- you, Har- Harry. Gods you fill me up
so good."

"Are you on the Potion?" Harry asked quickly, knowing that he was getting close to blowing
again. The slower, gentler sex was just as good as the rapid pounding he'd given her earlier,
and with the increased experience and Runes combined, Harry often felt like he could hold
off a climax nearly indefinitely, or do it on command once he'd gotten warmed up.

In other words, knowing she was getting close, he wanted to do it with her.

To his shock, though, Hannah shook her head, "N- No... do it inside me," she urged, bouncing
faster, "don't make me take you out, please..."

"I can't have a kid yet," he growled, "And Neville-"

"Has- dark hair- too," Hannah gasped, "He'll- think- fuck- Potter, coming... I'm gonna cum...
so hard... just..."
Harry tried to hold off, he really did, but the moment he felt Hannah's cunt clasp onto him, he
lost all control, blasting upwards into the depths of her core with another massive load,
grunting as he did.

Slowly, both came down, and Hannah started peppering his neck with soft kisses, her vaginal
walls still occasionally fluttering irregularly around his own flesh. "I don't think I'll get
pregnant," she said softly, "it's a safe day, but if I do... we'll never know if it's yours or
Neville's. Too close. I don't care if it's yours or Neville's. He's going to be the father. Okay?
Again, if."

Harry sighed, then nodded, "Alright, alright... unless he has green eyes."

"Then," Hannah replied, "we'll know, but it won't matter."

She slipped up and off him, cupping his seed into herself as much as she could while she
reached into the picnic basket once more and, still bent, pushed the object she'd withdrawn
into her snatch before standing up.

Only as Harry actively looked did he realize what it was: a dildo, of sorts, made out of cork.
Actual cork. "What the...?"

Hannah, panties in hand, grinned tiredly as she stepped into them, "Only thing better than a
cock in my mouth is cum in my pussy, Harry. I love it. I'll let it drain once I get inside."

He shook his head at the strange quirks of the blonde, then started dressing himself.

About ten minutes later, just inside the now-empty halls, Hannah put a hand on his elbow
before peeling away down the stairs toward the Kitchens and the Hufflepuff Common Room,
and whispered, "Maybe, just maybe if she's awake, I'll feed some to Susan. Maybe I'll even
tell her it's Neville's and yours."

Then she was gone, leaving Harry confused once more, but still not quite ready for bed.

The Stamina Runes really played havoc with his sleep schedule, though it wasn't yet ten
o'clock. And Hannah's last words had caused his penis to begin to swell and straighten again.
"Guess getting a blowjob from two witches and fucking two witches isn't enough for a day
anymore," Harry muttered as he gathered up his own clothes, re-dressed, and made his way
back into the Castle after lowering the ladder back into the grass until Hannah could return it
back to where she'd found it.

A part of Harry realized, as he walked the halls beneath his Invisibility Cloak with the
Marauder's Map in one hand open and active that he was already, just within the first few
days of the term, in much the same state as he'd been when he summoned the Succubus that
had so changed his life: a state of near-constant arousal. The rest of him was more easily able
to acknowledge that even if what he felt was the 'love' (read: lust) of a teenage boy for the
various girls that had entered his life as more than a passing fling, he was happier now than
he had ever been.

Even if Hermione was mad at him.

He sighed several minutes later after checking the four 'bedrooms' in the private quarters he'd
been assigned. His own bed was empty. Pansy occupied one, deeply asleep and now beneath
the blankets with her clothes in a haphazard pile on the floor, while Ron and Hermione
spooned in the other room.

The last room, the one Lilith had converted into a BDSM-style dungeon while they had been
attending their first day of classes, was filled with the smell of old sex, but Ginny apparently
had recovered, dressed, and left the room for her own dormitory.

Which meant that Harry was alone. He frowned, shaking his head, and debated heading back
upstairs to his own dorm. "No," he murmured, glancing toward the two farther bedrooms,
"wouldn't do to have Pansy walk in on Ron and Hermione, or them to wake up with just her
here. I don't think they'd do anything to her, not really, but... better if I'm here to... dissuade
things from escalating."

After undressing, he climbed into his own bed in the dark and closed his eyes, focusing his
mind on his contracted servitor. "Lilith... you around?"

Her response was quick, though a bit fragmented, filled with strange images of magical
creatures and all sorts of other things along those lines. "Yes, Master, I'm nearby. In your
friend Hagrid's home. Currently floating above his bed, watching him dream. It's fascinating-
I've never been with a part-giant before."

"Were you planning on that tonight...? I'm... well, I could sleep. I'm satisfied, but I wouldn't
mind another round."

This time, the Succubus' mental reply took a little longer, and the images he was 'seeing'
through her eyes, if Harry had to guess, were fuzzier, less distinct, though the voice in his
head was more clear. "I can bring you all the release you'd like Master, but if you would
rather sleep, I will continue to give your friend pleasant dreams."

"... Do that then," Harry decided with a yawn, never opening his own eyes, "Not sure I want
to know what he dreams about... Blast-Ended Skrewts, probably."

There was the mental equivalent of a shudder, but Harry was only half-conscious to sense it,
and, more tired than he had realized, was fully asleep a moment later.
 A Widening Circle

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Of course there's also my DISCORD, here, https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG which has all kinds
of fun goodies too. ;)

Chap. 30: A Widening Circle

Wednesday morning found Harry in the Library seeking out Hermione, who had left
breakfast about ten minutes before him after having received her morning pleasure from
Lilith, before the invisible Succubus had once more resumed moving through their group of
friends. Between Neville and himself, though, he saw her opaque form drift away out the
door and return a few moments later, as Lyra Sendai.

The Japanese-American girl (as far as most people knew, anyway) had looked over the room
quickly, then walked not to Harry, but Seamus and Dean, who were sitting apart from most of
their age group. There, ignoring Seamus' eyes roving her body, the girl had bent low, giving
Dean a tantalizing view of her cleavage no doubt, and whispered something in his ear that
made the dark-skinned boy blush visibly, and nod eagerly.

There were a few more whispered words, then Lyra had joined them at the table to pick
through some of her own food, leaving Harry quite unsatisfied, the first time in weeks she'd
done so. Yet, as she sat down, the Succubus didn't seem upset with him. Quite the opposite,
in fact. Instead, she glanced around to make sure only their small group was present, then
started eating with one hand while her left slipped onto Harry's groin and started running the
tips of her fingers over his trousers.

"I've gotta go finish Potions," Neville muttered, "and I thought we'd have all this free time
this year..."

"Sorry, mate," Ron said, shaking his head between bites of food that he at least chewed and
swallowed before speaking now, "I'll come help later if you want, not that I'm any great
shakes. But Hermione helped me finish mine last night."

"Thanks," Neville murmured, then rose and left.

The moment he was out of earshot, Lyra said, voice husky and low but loud enough for Ron
and Ginny to hear as well, "I told Dean I'd give him a blow-job later if he did me a favor. He
didn't even ask what the favor was before he agreed."
"Idiot," Ron snorted, "Though I have to admit, if I wasn't already... you know, busy all the
time, I'd probably have said yes like that, too."

Ginny, next to him, let her eyes move up and down Lyra's torso across the table and grinned,
"I'd have done it too, if you were a bloke."

Lyra and Harry briefly shared a secretive smile, before she turned back to her food and
continued swirling the little morsels around her plate instead of eating. "We'll have to talk
about that later. You two have a free period before Herbology, right?"

The wizards nodded, but Ginny frowned. "I've got Transfig again."

Lyra nodded, "That's okay. I just needed Master, really. It's good of you to help Neville out,
Ron. In fact, just for that, I'll give you an extra blow-job today, too."

Harry watched as Ginny's eyes rolled and Ron smiled wider, "Excellent."

That conversation, though, had only led him to the library with knowledge that, for the next
fifty minutes or so, he and Hermione would be undisturbed aside from by other studious
sixth-years and the librarian, Madam Pince.

"Mind if I sit, Hermione?" he asked quietly, pulling at the back of a chair next to her on the
small study table toward the rear of the stacks, in her favorite secluded reading nook.

She, of course, didn't say anything, and kept her eyes down in the book she was reading.

Harry sighed, then set down his own backpack and pulled out the chair anyway, though he
didn't draw forth any books. "I know you're mad at me, and I'm fairly sure I know why," he
told her, "so correct me if I'm wrong. You're upset because I shagged Pansy, even though you
knew about it before- you are mad that I did it again, and it was more... consensual. You're
mad I didn't punish her like I did the first time, as you see it. Even if you hate yourself for
seeing it that way, a part of you feels like she deserved it for the way she's treated all of us,
and especially you, right?"

He didn't let her respond, though the girl's chocolate eyes had shot up to glare at him from the
side, "Furthermore, you're mad that it feels like I've chosen Pansy over you, in chiding you
both. Is that correct?"

The last statement, somehow, had given the furious witch enough pause that she blinked, and
visibly stepped back from the situation mentally, something Harry was surprised he was even
able to notice, much less identify. After a few seconds, though, Hermione nodded without
saying anything, and he saw tears begin to well in her eyes.

"Well," once it became clear she wouldn't speak, "here's how I see things, after talking to
Pansy. I know Ron and Lyra have already talked to you about how they interpreted things- the
things Pansy was saying in the hall. I agree with them both. I know why you reacted the way
you did, and it's very understandable. I'm sorry that I said I couldn't believe it coming from
you, because that shows I deliberately ignored one of your faults, and that's not mature or
honest. I'm sorry for thinking you're perfect."
She snorted and looked away, almost whimpering as she said, "That's not a compliment I
ever expected to hear."

He smiled faintly, finding just enough daring to reach out and twine his fingers with hers.
"It's understandable. You've got years of upset to work through, and I shouldn't expect you to
'get over it' overnight, or maybe ever. She's done quite a lot to you. You've done far less to
her, but you also know as well as I do that you aren't blameless either. There has been tit-for-
tat."

"I know," Hermione whispered, then sniffled and started reaching into her bag for a tissue.

"And I didn't choose her over you. I choose you, always. You've earned my eternal loyalty,
Hermione, but that doesn't mean I can't call you on your own bull. I expect you to call me on
mine, so you should expect me to do the same. That's what friends- family- are for, isn't it? To
call us out when we're being ridiculous, or making a mistake?"

"Of course," she whimpered again, and blew her nose, "I just... it- it hurt to hear it. I'm sorry
I've been such a cow..."

"You haven't been," Harry assured her, using his gentle grip to tug her toward him and putting
his other arm over her shoulder, then pulled her against his chest, "You've been
understandably upset, as I said. She came to me in tears, did you know that? You hurt her,
too. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, but just to show you that she is trying to- to be a
better person. I wouldn't have gone to help her if I didn't see something redeemable about her,
and I wouldn't have stayed- wouldn't have shagged her twice that night- if she hadn't made a
lot of progress in very little time. Give her a chance. You might just find she's a better friend
for having, well... the bad stuff before it."

"Somehow I doubt it," Hermione whispered, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose again,
then pushing away from his chest, "But you're... you're right, as usual. I'll... do my best. I
won't hex or insult on sight. I can't promise I won't... retaliate in kind, though."

"I don't expect you to roll over and take it," he assured her quietly, "but neither will I expect
her to do the same. No one should be targeted by bullies. Nobody."

She nodded.

After a few more moments, once the girl's sniffles had subsided, he reached into his bag and
pulled out his own DADA books, all three of them. He'd finished the work Dumbledore had
assigned in their first class quite quickly, but felt that reading ahead wouldn't hurt, and his
other classes that day, Herbology and Charms, didn't have anything due at all until Friday for
the former, and the next Tuesday for the latter.

Herbology, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts passed quickly for Harry that day,
the group of he, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Lyra frequently rotating between several other
of their (or his) growing circle of 'friends' outside of Gryffindor, or even within it. And Lyra
behaved admirably, as far as Harry could tell, pairing up with several of the group in rotation
throughout the classes as she had done the previous day. She hadn't done more than flirt with
anyone, though she had done that with several people, and nothing that seemed to have
caught the eye of any of the Professors involved.

In fact, the only note-worthy event that took place throughout the day left Harry feeling more
pent-up and ready to just take someone, anyone with a pussy, for his pleasure. Lyra had made
a point of coaxing him, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville, to meet at Harry's private
quarters before dinner to discuss something. That in itself wasn't note-worthy though Harry
found the topic, once everyone had gathered in the common area, to be a bit more of a
change.

Harry sat in the middle of the L-shaped couch, pulling Ginny and Hermione down to either
side of him, the older witch on the right, leaving Neville and Ron to sit on the ends while the
Succubus used a dainty foot to push the coffee table out of the way to give her room to stand.
He watched his lust-inducing companion spend a few moments looking at each of them in
turn, then swallow nervously.

Neville was the first to speak, less used to the Succubus. "Er... L- Lyra, why're- why're your
clothes disappearing?"

With an almost bashful smile, the last remnants of Lyra's 'clothing' vanished, melting into her
skin to leave the Japanese-American form completely bare before them. Harry spent a few
seconds just admiring her. The Succubus had done a truly exceptional job of designing a
'perfect' body. "This," she said quietly, "is my 'true body'. But so is this."

And she changed, taking just a few seconds to grow taller, leaner, stronger. Her armored,
chitinous shell grew, too, spike sand all, untils he stood just a little taller than Harry, her
wings, horns, and tail fully visible. Then she turned slowly, arms and wings outstretched, to
show the others exactly what she looked like. "In my world, where I'm from, this is how I
truly appear. Even there, we can change our shape and form, but this is as true to 'me' as
anyone will ever know, myself included."

"Er," Neville said, then shut his mouth with a loud clack.

"Okay, so you look, uh, different," Ron offered next, "but you're still... well, you, right?
Like... the important bits are all there?"

Between him and Harry, Hermione snorted, but Lilith only shrugged and turned her rear to
them, lifting her tail and reaching back to spread her cheeks. "See for yourself. As far as this
goes, we're built exactly like humans. Some of us think we were human, once, or that humans
came from us. No one really knows anymore. But yes, the 'important bits', as you put it, are
all there. I'm just as capable of any form of sex like this. But I'm not trying to encourage you
all to do it this way. There's no benefit, unless you happen to like this form.

"No, the reason I am showing you this is to demonstrate how mutable my body is. Ron and
Harry have both seen me like this before, briefly, at your Ministry, and Master kept seeing me
until about nine the next morning when I was able to change back. An injury I sustained is
what prevented me from doing so easily, though I could have if I'd needed to. But this isn't
all, either. I can change almost anything about my appearance, though the mass can't change
too much yet. I'm getting stronger, and am close to the point where I can become almost
giant-like if I had to, but for now that's out of reach."

Neville suddenly gasped, pointing at her, "Wait, the fireballs! The claw marks! That was- that
was you?"

Lilith smiled more naturally, "Right. I was invisible to all but Master for most of the battle,
Ron only saw me for a few seconds, but yes. Fighting is easier in this form, since being more
'human' limits my natural attacks, but most of my abilities can still manifest in any form I
take. It also helps that I've spent about seventy of your years all-told in this body, and only a
few weeks or months in any other at most."

"S- Seventy?" Ginny gasped quietly.

The Succubus shrugged, staying in the same form as she began to stalk around the room on
her three-jointed, hooved feet, her wings and tail waving behind her even while she kept
herself in sight. "All told, I'm about a century and a half old as far as you recon it, Ginny. I'm
not human, never have been, never will be. In some ways, I am utterly alien to you, including
in how we age, so don't compare us. I'm still very young. If I had to equate our lifespan, I'd
say I'm about a seventh-year in comparison. Adult, but just barely. But that's not a fair
comparison, either, since I do have a lot more life experience to guide me. Off-topic, though.

"I can be hurt in this form, truly hurt, just like I can in any other, but doing lasting damage to
me is difficult. Mundane injuries, those caused by, say, a plain kitchen knife, I can heal
simply by changing by body to a non-damaged form. Magic is harder to heal from, but a
similar process works... it just requires a certain ingredient Master is familiar with, since he
helped me heal the last time."

"Wait, if you can do all that," Ron asked, "and I saw how you took down those Death Eaters,
even if I couldn't see you... then how come you don't just go take care of ol' Snake-Face?"

"A good question," she replied, "and there's a couple answers. One, I don't know where he is.
I can't just sense him out. If and when we do know, likely I'll be right there alongside Master
on the front lines. Two, I'm hard to kill, I'm not immortal. There are only a few things that
can kill me on this plane, most lethal attacks would simply send me home. But that means
Master can't feed me, is in violation of the Contract, and is forfeit. So I can't just spend my
life uselessly. If there's any real risk, I need to protect myself unless my sacrifice ends him for
good, or Master dies, too. Third... I don't want things to end too early. I know, before you say
anything Hermione, every day he exists puts more people at risk. I can't do anything about
that due to reasons one and two. But Master has made me get a lot stronger, very fast. If
things continue as they are, there will be no way at all he can stand up to the two of us in
about... six months to a year. No way at all. If we fought him now? We'd probably lose. We'd
all die, and do no good. So we can't go too far too fast, either. Finally... Your Headmaster is
planning something. I don't know what, nor does Master, but he knows more than we do
about how we can end your 'Dark Lord' for good. Until we know that, we can't act safely or
wisely, either.

"So we're left, for now, just gathering strength. And before you say we're just fucking around-
literally- ask Ron how much stronger he is, how much more easily magic comes to him, how
much more stamina he has. Ask Master. You're next on my list."

"You can't seriously expect us to believe having lots of sex is making us stronger," Hermione
scoffed.

Lilith just shrugged and continued pacing, "It doesn't matter if you believe it or not, as long
as you keep doing it. I mean, we could just cut you out of the loop if you want, but the rest of
us need to continue 'fucking around' because it is making us stronger."

"It really is, Hermione," Ron muttered, "Maybe I can show you."

He stood up, crossing past Harry and moving to the end of the couch where Neville sat. "I'm
not sure if I can really do this, but I've gotta..."

Then he bent at the knees, put both hands down, and stood up.

Neville, Ginny, Harry, and even Hermione all yelped as, with barely any obvious effort, the
entire couch with all three of them still on it tilted, rising into the air.

"Shit, Ron," the red-head gasped, after she corrected herself from falling into Harry's side,
"That's... unreal!"

"Literal strength," Lilith pointed out, "in addition to the stamina you've already been witness
to. Runes to boost strength, as I said. There's more. Master is resistant to magic now, at least
simpler ones, and more is coming. My goal is to make all of you and a few others as strong as
possible, Master included, so that when the time comes, we can all fight against him, all
together, as one. So that we can all contribute."

"Which sounds good, yes," Hermione muttered, clearly not entirely convinced even with the
demonstration, "but I fail to see how- how us having lots of sex, and no, I don't want to stop,
of course not, but I don't see how that helps us!"

"Well, the Runes each of us get need to be drawn in our fluids, for one," Harry told her, "and
yeah, that might be a bit icky, but it works. Ron and I are both proof. But I don't think that
matters. You've... you have to have seen how my needs have only grown. If I don't get
enough release, I can't focus, can't cast, can't function. A bit of distraction even a few times a
day is better than being useless. Besides, it's fun, and motivating."

"It sure is," Ron chuckled.

Lilith waved a hand in the air, "Still off-topic for what I wanted to really talk about. Can I get
back to it?"

After a chorus of nods and Ron putting the couch back down gently without being worse for
wear, she resumed, "Really, I wanted to show you this for a few reasons, but the first is that,
if you ever see me like this in a fight, it doesn't surprise you."

"Makes sense," Neville agreed.

"But I also wanted to get your commitment, all of you, to see this through. It isn't just lots of
sex, though there'll be that, too. If you're going to be with us, you will be putting your lives
on the line, make no mistake. To help Master and me fulfill the Contract together. To protect
everyone we can."

Ron laughed again, "And for the pussy."

He continued laughing after Hermione slapped his chest, but Lilith only grinned, "Yes, and
the pussy. Can't forget that."

"You know I'm behind you," Ginny told Harry, "no matter what. Anything."

"Me, too, of course," Hermione added.

"And me."

Neville swallowed, "Er... I mean, I'm in. It's just... does that mean... you'd need to put, uh,
my- my stuff- on me?"

"It's not all that bad, mate," Ron said with a shrug, "I mean, she shagged me unconscious
first, didn't even realize she was doing it."

"I... I guess that's okay."

"And you can wash it off after if it bothers you," the Succubus told them, "I just have to do
the enchanting with it present."

"There's, uh, one other thing," Harry said, feeling suddenly somber, "I appreciate your
willingness to help, to fight. But... you need to know what that costs. I know I mentioned this
last year, but at the Ministry, I killed people. A few of them. Lilith did, too. I'm not saying
you can't just subdue, but if it comes to life or death, I- we all- need everyone to fight that
way. I hope you don't have to kill, I really do. But if it comes down to it, to protect yourselves
and your families..."

"Whatever it takes," Ginny said quietly, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, then leaning in to
kiss his stubbly cheek.

Once again, the others pledged their continued support, and Harry was gratified and relieved,
if anxious, to hear the others do so with even less hesitation.

"So... what's next?" Ginny asked afterward.

"Well, we continue boosting your abilities with a set of Runes," Lilith answered, shifting
back to Lyra's form and growing clothes again as well. "I can do the same thing for you girls,
of course, it just takes more orgasms. Squirt dries faster, you know."

"Wait," Ginny said, eyes widening, "You mean I can shag longer? Like Harry does?"

"At the cost of needing sex more, yes. Not that it'll make much difference to you, you little
nymphomaniac," the Succubus said without heat.
"You know I am," Ginny grinned.

Harry had not known the witch knew the word, but supposed he shouldn't have been
surprised.

"The physical boosts, while key, are just the beginning, though. I plan to give you and a few
others access to the same benefits, and if you're willing, an Aspect of my kind."

Hermione, predictably, was the first to ask, "An Aspect? What's that?"

"It's a big deal, but essentially, I will gift, through a Ritual, a part of my soul to each of you
that wants to. I won't get that part back, but it doesn't harm me in any way to do so. It...
creates a bond in a way, one which links us together, but also gives you power without
costing me anything but time. The only downside is that I can't control what Aspect you get.
It will be something I can do, but we never know until it's done, what the results are. Some of
you might gain a tail, or my Lash of Pain ability. Some might be able to throw fireballs in a
similar fashion to myself or your Veela. Some might gain a limited ability to produce Fog of
Lust, or change their forms, or get a lesser version of my armor. There are several abilities
you could get, and the strength will vary or increase based on your training with it in practice,
as well as how strongly you and I are bonded, or you and Master are bonded."

"So the closer we are- the more we shag- the better our powers will get?"

Lyra nodded at Neville's question, "In essence, but there is more to it than that. Master and I
have shagged well over a hundred times, but it is our growing emotional bond that will
provide more strength in his abilities. Any kind of bond- love, lust, friendship, filial- will
affect the strength. The types of bonds matter, too. That we feel lust, affection, and friendship
for each other makes the bond stronger, too."

Hermione looked thoughtful as she asked, "And... is there a way to determine what the
powers will be? I mean, I don't know how I feel, or if I'd be comfortable, with a piece of you
in me... Er, like that. It'd have to be worth it, wouldn't it?"

"I think it would be," Lyra acknowledged with another shrug, then reached over to snag one
of the study chairs and dragged it to her place and sat. "But no, I don't know of a way to
determine it ahead of time. It's not likely you'd get something unsuited, though. Powers tend
to- though they don't always- develop in a natural pattern based on an individual's skills. I've
been very all-around as far as my own power development, and my 'ceiling' as far as strength
goes has developed slowly because I've been learning every power I can going across to build
a better foundation for stronger abilities to get later. I'm a long-term planner, in a way. You
won't get to choose which power you get- and you'll only get one when we do it- but I can
guarantee it won't be useless."

"What about me?" Harry asked quietly, having picked up on a detail he felt others might've
missed, "You're sort of implying my own bond would be... different."

"And it will be," Lyra assured him, "but I think it's better if we discuss that in a more private
setting, if you don't mind."
Harry shrugged, "Fine with me."

"Very well then," Lyra said, "We can start after dinner. Who wants the first set of Runes? It's
better to start with the physical increases, and the week after those are done- next week,
probably- I can start with the Bonding. No more than one a week for those, though, aside
from Master's."

Neville, Hermione, and Ginny shared a series of glances. Harry wasn't surprised to see his
other male friend, no doubt somewhat insecure about his performance compared to Harry or
Ron, raised a hand first, though he only did so half-way. Lyra glanced toward Harry, then
nodded, "Alright, Neville, after dinner, you and I are going to have some fun."

Bellies full and homework completed, Lyra stood up from the table in the common area they
had done their work together in, and pulled a suddenly nervous-looking Neville up, before
leading him toward the Dungeon. She stopped in the doorway and looked back, "Aren't you
lot coming to watch?"

Harry was the first one to join them, the others trailing in behind a little more reluctantly. He
had come to a very simple conclusion a few days earlier, one that it seemed the others had
not. Kinky though things might be on occasion, and some of them gave him the willies,
almost everything Lilith had even off-handedly mentioned as far as sex went could be
exciting and fun, so he was willing to try it. A bit of voyeurism was hardly anything new, too.
If it made any of them individually or the group as a whole more prepared for the conflict on
the horizon, then Harry was all for it.

And unlike the rest, he hadn't had a single orgasm today, thanks to Lilith giving him a pass at
breakfast and the need to catch up on school work. So he was the only one to see her
removing Neville's clothing completely by ripping it off his body with clawed hands before
returning to Lyra's body again then guiding the shocked young man to the bed. "Lay down,
spread eagle, lover," she whispered. While he did so, casting another nervous, hesitant glance
to Harry and the rest coming in behind him, Lyra crossed to the rack of implements on the far
wall and gathered four straps with loops on either end, which she began to fasten to Neville's
wrists and ankles, then the four short bed-posts.

"Don't worry, Neville," Lyra continued to speak soothingly the whole while, "this is just so
you don't buck or lose control when the Runes start getting applied. I'm not going to put them
on tight enough to hurt you, and anyone here can get you out with a word. You should, after
this session, pick a safe-word. Something we all know that means you don't like what we're
doing and to stop it immediately. Everyone should have a word, in fact. But for now... don't
be nervous, we've all seen your thick, fat cock before... now it's time to see it awaken."

Neville swallowed and blushed as he remembered that they had just a few days previously,
and closed his eyes as Lyra climbed onto the bed between his legs and reached down to start
fondling his privates.

Harry chose that moment to look away for a few seconds to conjure a long, semi-soft couch
behind them, and then drag it forward with a weak summoning charm to cause Hermione and
Ginny to fall onto it, and Ron almost to do the same before he sat down.
"They sure do get distracted easily," he thought to Lilith, amused, "though I can't blame
them. You're very talented."

"Thank you, Master. This is just round one of four though... I figured a nice hand-job would
get him relaxed enough for the rest. The others will need to participate for maximum effect,
but all three of us girls will need to make him climax, preferably using a different orifice. As
wide as he is, I'm probably going to be the only one able to take him up the back.

Harry sat down on the edge of the couch with Hermione on his right, then Ginny, and Ron on
the other end, and watched with his best friends while the Succubus quickly worked Neville
to a full-on boner, then started stroking in earnest. "If that's what you think is best, Pet. I
know Ginny wants to fuck him, and Hermione probably won't object to sucking him off. Can
he go three rounds, though?"

Her hands twisted lightly and pumped rapidly, and within three minutes Neville had exploded
all over his bare, lightly haired stomach. Lilith leaned over him then with a coy smile, and let
a bit of her spittle mix with it, before gathering the lot up in his belly-button and then
beginning to draw her Runes, just as she had with Harry and Ron before, just above her flesh-
made 'pot'. "This is just the beginning, stud," she told both the subject of her work and the
group, "a prelude, you could say, to let you do the rest without having to use another of my
powers, which is harder to control. This Rune is temporary, it will only last an hour or so, and
I shouldn't need to do it with the others since Master and Ron already have stamina Runes,
and the girls can achieve multiple orgasms easier. Ladies, I'll need your involvement later if
you're willing. Of course, no one will force you. Neville, I take it you have no objection to
either Hermione or Ginny getting you off in some fashion?"

While she spoke, Lyra had already begun drawing in the fur above Neville's still half-erect
dick with one slender finger, while the other hand held him upright enough to work.

"Er, no, I- I'm okay with- with Ginny and Hermione," Neville said with a deep flush returning
to his cheeks. He seemed unable to look at anyone on the couch, though he hastened to add,
"If- if they're, uh, alright with- with me. And Harry and Ron."

Lyra turned to the couch with a raised eyebrow.

Harry turned his attention away briefly to find, in turn, Hermione with a hand beneath her
shirt and arching downward toward her crotch, and the other itching between his own thigh
and hers, while Ginny had a hand on Hermione's leg, and on Ron's, while his best mate was
visibly working his own hard-on that had pushed up beneath the hem of his trousers to lay
against his stomach, just visible as his shirt was riding up. "Er... n- no objections here,"
Hermione murmured, clearly distracted.

Even though he knew his friends were willing for the power boosts if nothing else, Harry
wanted to make sure there were no regrets about it later. "Lilith... can you send some Fog
over here? Just a little?"

The Succubus paused in her drawing only briefly, and he watched her wings appear opaque
for just a moment, then wave twice and vanish once more. "Done, Master... it's early, risky.
Love the idea, though. Might set things back if it fails."
"It won't."

Suddenly, as the first Rune drawn with her spittle and Neville's semen was finished on his
stomach, the boy's back arched wildly, throwing his hips and body into the air despite being
bound spread-eagle. "Oh- oh Merlin! Oh... I... H- Hannah- I need Hannah!"

Hermione gasped in surprise, but a moment later, he'd collapsed back to the bed, wide-eyed,
with an almost feral look of lust in his eyes, glaring down his body at Lyra, who smirked at
him, "Don't worry, Neville... I just did them in a different order than Master's and Ron's.
You'll get your fun soon enough."

The other boy's body started shaking as his erection, fully returned and quite thick indeed,
began to strain almost of its own volition toward Lyra's body. She, in turn, let her clothing
fade away once more and moved downward to sit between his feet. "Alright, ladies. I'm
going to do the last thing. One of you will need to please him with your cunny, the other with
your mouth. You can decide the order and who does what."

Harry watched the girls between him and Ron share a look, but it was Ginny who stood first.
"I- I want to sit on that fat thing, if you don't mind, Hermione."

Without waiting for a response from her, Ginny moved, not to the bed, but to stand before
Harry. There, she shimmied out of her skirt and pushed her panties down before stepping out
of her blouse, letting the lot fall to the floor. "Master, can your Pet use her body to make your
friend feel good?"

Harry felt briefly like he should look over to Ron to get his opinion of his shameless baby
sister's body or actions, and especially by calling Harry Master like Lilith did, but the part of
him that was indeed a leader didn't feel bothered by it either way. Instead, he asked, "Does
my Pet want to cum on that cock?"

Ginny nodded, grinning widely enough to show teeth, "Oh, yes, Master."

"Then do it," he urged.

The girl said nothing else, merely spun and practically threw herself up onto the bed and over
Neville, where she sat down straddling him with a hand on his surprisingly muscular chest,
the other already gripping the shaft and angling it toward her. "Okay, Neville. I know you've
been dreaming of this for two years. I know I have. Time to make that dream... a... reality.
Oh, Circe!"

She had lined up his tip on the shortest word in that sentence, then dropped herself onto him
all at once on the last one. The curse was reflexive, as the girl, who'd only ever had Harry
inside her before, was stretched out beyond anything she could have felt previously.

But Ginny did not complain. Instead, she only let her body adjust for more than half a minute
before she gave an experimental shimmy of her hips, then urged, "Alright, big boy... now you
can fuck me!"
He didn't need much urging. With an animalistic grunt, the normally shy boy began to
hammer his hips upward, making Ginny's small, perky chest jiggle and bounce in circles
from the first push, slapping up and down in a counterpoint to his legs against her rear.

Again, Harry looked down the couch at his friends when Hermione reached for his zipper. He
lifted his hips briefly to help, fishing out his length for her and pushing his trousers down to
his ankles, and she started moving, eyes wide and even her mouth open and starting to drool
as the Fog hit her. That wasn't the only change, though.

Ron had been affected too. His pants were also around his ankles while Hermione stroked
both of them at once. His right hand was between Hermione's legs, which twisted and
writhed around the paler flesh, beneath the hiked-up skirt.

Hermione started pumping them faster after just a few seconds.

All too quickly, no doubt affected by both the Fog and the first Rune, Neville climaxed into
Ginny with a roar. Lyra let her keep riding him for a few seconds until she came, too, but as
Ginny climbed off, gasping, the Succubus in human form twirled a finger, and a long string
of white pearly fluid flowed from her body and joined another being pulled from Neville's. It
pooled again on his stomach.

"Alright, Hermione, time to show our friend I'm not the only one great at sucking dick.
Ginny, have a seat."

Hermione stood too, trailing her fingertips on both cocks for a few seconds, then reached up
to push her own knickers to the floor and kicked her shoes off. She and Ginny walked past
each other with a high-five as if to 'tag out', the latter still breathing rapidly. Hermione
climbed up onto the bed and straddled Neville too, but she did so at his head and lifted her
skirt primly before leaning down and sitting on Neville's face. Her own expression shifted
into one of heightened pleasure before she leaned down over him.

Ginny had sat down too, taking Hermione's spot and resuming what she'd been doing to
Harry, while Ron took himself into his own hands.

"Nice idea, love," Lyra said with a chuckle, "But that makes it hard to draw on him."

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said as she popped off him, "Didn't think about that. Uh... I don't
suppose there's anything wrong with me getting off too, just in case I don't?"

"Oh, you will," Lyra laughed, "trust me. From the side is fine."

After they moved again, the witch going to the far side of the bed and holding her hair back
with a quickly-conjured hair-tie so the boys could watch the show, she began gobbling
Neville's rod again.

"God, that's hot," Ginny announced quietly.

Harry could only agree. "So're you," he reminded her, then slipped a hand onto her stomach
and down to her trimmed folds, "Did you like feeling him shoot his load into you, Pet?"
Ginny grinned happily, "It wasn't as good as yours, Harry, but yes, I really did. It hurt at first-
I didn't think it'd hurt like that- but I adjusted fast, then it felt amazing. Hannah- I guess
Hannah Abbot?- is a lucky girl."

Harry leaned over, shifting the hand on her cunt to go around her neck and start working a
breast while his other crossed his body to diddle her tiny clit and whispered, "So're you."

She giggled, "I sure am, Master..."

"I meant in more ways, Pet," Harry continued, "Because you can fuck him more, you know.
Once his Runes are done, he'll get a lot more randy. Ron did, I did, not that I needed it.
Hannah won't always be there. He'll need someone... but between Lyra, you, and Hermione, I
think we can get his needs taken care of, right? Plus mine and Ron's?"

The red-head nodded.

Harry let things progress for a few minutes. With two orgasms in rapid succession under his
belt, even 'under the influence' Neville wasn't climaxing quickly, though Harry was sure
Hermione was also taking her sweet time given the hand working beneath her skirt.

Then he asked, even quieter though not whispering, his mouth brushing Ginny's ear,
"Speaking of needs... Ron looks pretty lonely over there, doesn't he? Poor guy, no girl to
stroke him or suck him."

Almost against her will, Harry saw the girl look to her left, where Ron was watching the
action on the bed, his hand pumping furiously.

She didn't seem to be able to look away, but that was all Ginny did aside from continue to
jerk Harry off.

"Don't swallow, Hermione," Lyra suddenly said a few seconds later.

That seemed to be enough to set Ron off, for he began ejaculating into the air. Ginny watched
it all, though she spun to face the bed again as Ron collapsed back into the couch, face as red
as her hair.

Harry only smirked to himself as he watched Lyra perform the same gesture, pulling another
mass of saliva and semen from Hermione's mouth, which joined the one on the boy's
stomach. "Alright, beautiful," Lyra said happily, "You can go join the others for a bit."

Neville seemed insensate, but Hermione was very happy as she rejoined the others on the
couch, quickly filling the spot between Ginny and Ron.

There, Harry was pleased to see, she picked up stroking Ron's long cock, which hadn't really
softened. While the boy-who-lived was certainly enjoying Ginny's manipulations, he was still
a long, long way from satisfied. Hand-jobs had been the reason he summoned Lilith in the
first place, after all. They just weren't enough anymore.

On the bed, Lyra sank into the same position Ginny had, but was still drawing as, without
guidance, she used Hermione's saliva as lube and took Neville into her arse.
"Fuck," Hermione muttered, pulling her hands away to rip her shirt upward and off, then
standing and pushing her skirt down to her ankles and stepping out with just one, "I gotta
have a cock..."

Around Ginny's suddenly distracted head, Ron shot Harry a surprised, grateful look as their
mutual girlfriend threw her torso over Ginny's lap and started blowing Harry, presenting her
petals to Ron. This, no doubt unintentionally, put her left hand on the edge of the couch to
support her while her right landed on Ginny's leg and gave it a squeeze.

The red-head, in turn, moaned at the sight, and took her hand off of her leg to start to fondle
Hermione's bra-clad chest as it swayed over her lap, and rested her other on the small of her
best friend's back, just above her arse.

Harry grinned. Perfect... Then he stood himself and pushed his trousers further down before
turning and kneeling with one leg, standing on the other, before Hermione and ran a hand
through her hair. Ron, smiling at how Hermione was dripping, brought a hand to his mouth,
licked once, then showed it to a glassy-eyed Ginny and Harry.

Harry waited until Ron was mounting her before he pushed his own thick cock into her
mouth, the first time he'd actually been inside a woman in more than twenty-four hours.

As always, through the spike of pleasure and growing lust, Hermione felt like home, and
Harry began to move slowly a moment later, letting her, or rather Ron behind her, do most of
the controlling as her body shook in time to Ron's thrusts. Below the witch, Ginny pleasured
the older girl's chest and own twat, transfixed at the sight of this all happening right over her
lap.

It had been too long for Harry, though, and he was too needy. Even with the Stamina Runes
enhancing his longevity and staying power, Harry knew he wouldn't last long.

But 'long' was a relative term.

Again, with Neville's second Rune-set complete, Lyra dove downward, letting him continue
to fill her ass while she gobbled up his entire, fat length, stretching her anus wide to
accommodate him as he continued thrusting with abandon.

Ron shuddered as he climaxed, and Harry let himself go a moment later, once Hermione's
throat started vibrating on his cock, milking him for all he was worth. He was shaking as he
finished, and felt like the Fog had taken him, too, though he'd been at least resistant since the
Contract was finalized, as Harry leaned forward to grab Hermione by the shoulders and pull
her up off his cock.

She protested, but Harry only grinned, "Hold on, just changing positions..."

Then he pulled her up by the armpits using his magically-enhanced muscle, to spin her in
mid-air and set the studious girl down, giggling hysterically, where he'd been sitting a
moment before, then hiking her down so the brunette's rear was just off the couch. "Gin... Pet.
Lick her pussy clean."
At the first command, for the first time, Ginny tore her eyes free of either Hermione or Ron,
to look at him quizzically. Then she grinned, and rose from the couch to settle on her knees
between her best friend's legs.

Hermione didn't protest, though her eyes were wide with a combination of lust and surprise
as Ginny leaned in and started sucking and licking for all she was worth. "Oh, God,"
Hermione moaned, "that feels... incredible..."

Caught in the moment, Harry was sure no one but him even realized it was Ron's semen she
was licking out of the older girl.

Between slurps, the younger looked up her friend's body and said, "Wanted- to- do- this... for-
for a long- time." No, no way she realizes that with what she just said, Harry thought to
himself with a kink-induced grin.

Harry chanced a glance at Ron, to find his own erection just as renewed and ready as Harry's,
the hands now both stroking it, one at the top and one at the bottom in quick motions. The
dark-haired wizard, however, had the advantage of Ginny being right there. So he, too, went
to his knees and hiked her body up to meet his, before ramming home once more.

Ron groaned, eyes not watching Lilith and Neville, but Ginny and Hermione with occasional
glances to where Harry was making the firm arse of the pale girl shake too, driving her mouth
further against Hermione's labia.

He kept going for several seconds, maybe a minute, before his glance caught Ron's. "Hot,
isn't it? Watching Ginny go down on Hermione?"

Ron swallowed, then nodded almost reluctantly.

He continued to rut into Ginny until Hermione had climaxed again beneath his Pet's tongue,
then forced himself free of her body with a grunt. She followed, thrusting back against him
twice before she realized he wasn't there anymore. Instead, Harry had stood and moved
around the edge of the couch to present his juice-covered cock to Hermione's mouth. She
gobbled at it eagerly for a few seconds, moaning, before he pulled away again.

"Taste good, Hermione?"

"Mm... Ginny's tasty," she groaned, "love her tongue... gods, I'm such a slut..."

"Our slut," Ron groaned.

"Okay, Pet... leave her."

"Aww..."

Despite the word though, Ginny didn't hesitate to obey.

"Hermione?"

"Mmm?"
"Suck Ron, would you?"

"But I want to fuck..."

"No. Not this time," he commanded, and grinned as the girl pouted, but didn't offer other
protest.

Then, like a five-pound whore, the girl mirrored Ginny's position between Ron's legs and
angled him toward her mouth.

Ron grinned, leaning back now in relief against the couch as he let the girl work. "I gotta say,
Harry... I want a pussy too, but this is really nice."

Harry only smiled as he took Hermione's place, then simply pointed at his own straining
erection. "Lick, love... clean me completely."

Ginny's lip trembled as she started moving, licking from the base and his hanging scrotum,
cleaning him of not just her own fluids and his, but also Hermione's, too. She worked from
there slowly up his shaft, moving in circles around it with fingers first at his tip then the base,
before popping him into her mouth.

He looked over at Ron, who was now watching Hermione bob, one hand holding her hair
back so Harry and Ginny could see, the other controlling the long rod with a finger around
the base. "Fucking hot," he whispered.

Ron nodded, then glanced his way.

"So's this."

Ron blinked, seemingly unconsciously, then followed Harry's glance downward.

He froze, eyes wide, as he locked eyes with Ginny, whose own darker brown orbs rose to
meet his mid-suck.

Ron didn't say anything, but he kept watching his sister as she sucked and bobbed, and put a
hand on Hermione's head to help guide her as Ginny started pumping Harry with one hand,
too.

Across the way, Neville climaxed again into the Succubus' rear. She never slowed her
mounting. Instead, mid-copulation, the fluid flowed out of her and onto Neville's stomach
again. Harry could see three Runes, layered in a triangle with the top toward Neville's head,
glistening in pearly white and magic on the boy's abdomen. She started rutting faster, moving
just her hips as she continued to write, connecting the three major Runes on Neville's taught
stomach. Harry could tell that Lyra was just shagging for fun, and to help Neville cope with
the lust he was now going to have to deal with for at least a century.

But he couldn't blame her. He'd already told her to fuck whomever she wanted, barring a few
individuals.
And Neville was a good friend, now one of them. "As much as you want, Pet," he told her
mentally, only to get a glance and a moan of joy while she rode him cowgirl style, hands
planted on Neville's pecs.

"You're gonna make me cum, Gin," he murmured, "gonna do it soon. I wanna cover your
tits," he moaned, knowing full well what Ron thought of that particular kink.

Predictably, his friend groaned, "Me- me too, Hermione... on your tits!"

Harry let himself climax first, knowing it would drive Ron wild as he shoved Ginny back and
half-rose, aiming himself down to plaster not just the red-head's face, but her mouth, neck,
chest, and stomach, in glorious pearly goop.

"F- F-fuuuck," Ron groaned, shoving Hermione back even harder and staggering up, then
falling to his knees as he blasted their girlfriend in a like fashion, half-straddling her waist.

Of course, it was at that moment that there was a knock on the outer door.

Lyra rose from Neville in a flash, floating upward on blurred wings as clothing materialized
around her. "Ginny, please fuck the shit out of Neville for a bit. Ron, enjoy Hermione...
you've all earned it. Harry, with me?"

Harry was so surprised by the suddenly business-like commands that he didn't protest as his
other Pet fought her way to her feet on shaky legs and staggered to the bed, or Ron threw
Hermione face-first into the couch and mounted her from behind, too.

Lyra dragged him out into the common room once more while he fought to re-dress, then
whispered, "Answer the door. Tell him to come in, and send him toward the middle bedroom.
I need to do this in private at first. If you get a message from me, you can come in, but just
you- wear your cloak."

Harry nodded, confused, as she turned toward the bedroom Hermione and Ron usually used,
the right on the far wall from the entrance, and shut the door behind her. He only remembered
to close the Dungeon door with his wand and add a silencing charm at the last moment before
opening the door to the hall.

"D- Dean?"

"Oh, uh... hey, Harry," the tall, black boy murmured, glancing down at Harry and then over
his shoulder, "Er... I was expecting Lyra. Is- is she here?"

"Oh, your favor," Harry remembered, grinning at the memory of Dean's blush at breakfast,
"Yeah. Come on in."

"So... new digs? Haven't seen you in the Dorm in a couple days."

Harry fought to stay relaxed himself to combat his more distant friend's growing nerves,
"Lyra's in that room there. WC's there. Rest of the doors are off-limits for now. If you need
something, I'll be studying, I suppose. As for the dorm... I was only planning on spending
about half the time there this year. Reasons. I'll try and explain when I can, but... things have
come up."

"Girl things?"

He nodded at the probing question, but didn't say more. After a few seconds, the other boy's
patience wore thin and he pointed, "That room?"

The door shut twenty or so seconds after his nod, and Harry immediately moved to his own
room to gather his Invisibility Cloak and throw it over his shoulders, though he didn't draw it
closed completely.

Rather than study, though, Harry went back to the Dungeon to watch behind the once-more
silenced door, as Hermione now bounced atop Ron on the conjured couch, both facing Ginny
who was in turn lying against Neville's chest, almost helpless against the onslaught of his
furious pumping. He'd already filled her once, Harry could tell, but with a grin he threw the
cloak over himself fully and moved to watch from the end of the bed between Neville's legs
as he came once more.

Once again, his penis grew thick and long as he watched, but it wasn't even a five minutes
later that he got a mental message from his faithful companion. "Master, please come in if
you wish. I'm about to give Dean the blow-job of his life. I've got him quite enraptured at the
moment, but anyone I'm not Contracted with can break that. I do need you here after, so you
may as well enjoy... unless you're busy?"

"No... I'll be right there, my Pet."

Still beneath the cloak, Harry pulled his erection free of his trousers once more to let it sway
in the breeze as he crossed back out of the room, re-applied the Silencing Charm just in case,
and did the same, weaker, on the bedroom door before slipping inside and shutting it, too.

He wasn't terribly surprised to see Lyra gone, and Lilith in her younger, more child-like form,
younger even than her 'default' appearance with him. Nor to see her naked and touching
herself with all the appearance of a very shy, nervous twelve-year-old girl.

It was a bit more of a shock to see her horns, wings, and tail quite visible, not opaque. And a
bit more to see Dean, erection dark, thick, and long too, almost as large as Harry's enhanced
one, throbbing a few inches from her face, as long as her whole head.

But Dean's eyes were the biggest shock. Harry knew, somehow, that they were locked very
much onto Lilith's body, but he could see no detail, for they were stark-white, almost the
color of his own jizz, but a little brighter, and glowing softly. "Er... what did you do to
him...?"

"Tempting Gaze, Master. I've used it before, but I recently increased its power a bit. Found a
trick to make it stronger. Only works on one person, but while I'm here, he's effectively mine.
I can also implant suggestions, and he'll want to follow them- almost like what you did with
your other Pet."
"Okay... would that work on me?"

Lilith glanced his way with one light pink eyebrow raised, almost comical on her child-like
body. "No, of course not. Almost none of my powers would. Besides- you can already do it
back if you want to. We'll talk about that later. He's going to be my bitch for a while, aren't
you, Dean?"

"Yes, I'm your bitch," the boy nodded, mouth open and drooling as he continued to ogle the
child body. "I'll do anything you say."

"Good. I'm going to make you happy with my mouth. Like I do with daddy."

"Yes."

Harry couldn't believe Dean was saying such things so... woodenly. He expected fire,
passion, but this was... weird. Almost like he'd become a robot. In fact, it reminded him
strongly of the false Ginny he'd seen Dean fucking along with Hermione in the false
Astronomy Tower.

"Your first task will be a long one. For every month you fulfill it, I'll give you one blow-job
as a reward, big brother."

"Yes. I'll do it."

"That task is this: never tell anyone what either myself or Harry James Potter, your friend,
don't direct you to about anything that happens in these chambers or between our circle of
friends. Ever. You want me to put your thing in my mouth, don't you, big brother?"

"Yes. Yes I do. I'll do it. I'll never tell anyone."

By contrast, Lilith was a cute, innocent, and yet strangely seductive and coy as he'd ever seen
her, and Harry was already fighting the urge to take her instead.

"If I ever have another task for you, each one will be rewarded with a blow-job for successful
completion. If you do very well, I'll let you put it in down there, big brother. In my special
place."

"I want that," Dean said woodenly.

"Then do a good job. You'll do a good job, won't you?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Now... I trust you, big brother. So I'm going to do it once to show you I can do a good
job, like mommy can."

Lilith sent Harry one wink, then reached out. It took both hands to close around the other
boy's shaft in this form, and Harry watched her struggle to force just the tip of him into her
tiny little mouth, but at once, Dean threw his head back, eyes still shining up at the ceiling.
More and more of him sank into her, and Harry could see from the side as her tiny throat
gained at least half of its depth as it swelled impossibly large to accommodate him.

"Tell her how it feels, son," Harry growled, "Tell your sister how it feels to be in her throat."

There was no change in Dean's eyes, but the toneless voice was gone. Instead, when he
answered, the other boy's voice trembled and shook. It was low and husky, like it had been on
the false Astronomy Tower when he'd been shagging the replica of Ginny, the night he and
Hermione had first been together.

The first time Hermione had had Dean in her mouth, too, if only for a moment. "It feels really
good, sis. Best thing I've ever felt."

More fun for later.

When he was fully inside, Lilith was bent at the waist, horizontal, at the edge of the bed, and
Harry could just see the tip of Dean's cock making her ribs swell, too.

"In me, Master... I'm so voracious for you!"

His own reply was verbal, if soft, "It won't break the... entrancement?"

"You can't, Master... we are one and the same for this. Please... I need you... Your sister's so
wet..."

"I want to fill you," Harry groaned, and stepped around, still invisible, behind the tiny, nude
body.

Dean groaned as Lilith started pulling off of him slowly, and again, then put his hands on her
little head, ignoring the horns, as she sank down once again. Harry, though, had removed
only the tip of his penis from the Cloak and ran it along the narrow channel of Lilith's waiting
snatch, which seemed just as fresh and untouched as it ever had, before slowly beginning to
ease himself inside.

Once again, he tore through a false hymen, and Lilith cried out around Dean's cock. He
jerked, probably climaxed, but Lilith only took that as her cue to grow slightly larger, at least
in the throat, and start bobbing more rapidly. She was just as tight to Harry, however, and he
gently took the little hips in hand as he started pumping himself, slowly at first, but rapidly
increasing until he was slapping against her, driving her little mouth further onto Dean's
erection, which had stayed firm despite one climax, no doubt due to Lilith's touch.

He heard the Succubus choke, swallow, and gulp against the hard, rigid flesh in her throat,
but she never coughed or vomited even though Dean was impossibly large within her. His
own cock ached with the pressure of being inside her, as large as he was, but Harry didn't
care anymore, for it also felt exquisite. He started rutting faster, slamming her forward onto
Dean, then yanking her back about half-way up the other boy's dick, only to push her back
onto it with careless abandon.
Dean came again, but Harry kept going, only slowing when Lilith sent him another mental
message asking him to let her stop, to finish his job.

"There you go, big brother," she cooed, mouth dribbling with Dean's sticky cum, "two
rewards 'cause I like you. Now, sleep."

At once, Dean fell backward onto the bed.

Lilith looked over her shoulder, eyes blazing, and said one word: "Harder."

Harry obliged, smashing into her, driving forward, in and in, until his cock-head passed her
tiny little womb and pushed that, too, inward, and her little rump met his stomach, then
yanked her off again bodily, only to repeat the gesture.

Lilith cried out in ecstasy, "Yes, yes!"

He kept going, but only lasted about thirty more seconds- she was just too tight, and as she
came, he did too, blasting forward and up once more even as he yanked her body, both hands
touching around the girl's torso, onto his length completely.

Then Lilith squirmed and, still impaled on him, changed to her normal youthful form a few
years, two or three, older and slid off his length. "Thank you, Master," she cooed, leaning up
and turning to give him a quick kiss, "Now, a couple of Runes for Dean... Mastery and
Servitude keyed to both of us, and a Stamina Rune so we can enjoy. Um... if you want him to
do you favors, you'll have to please him, though, so... emergencies only. I can probably stand
in, but no one else."

Harry grimaced, "Er, yeah... no. Not so much."

Lilith giggled, kissed him again, then reached around to swat his bare bottom, "Go get some
sleep, or go fuck the others some more. I need to finish his Runes, then probably sleep
myself. I'm tired already."

"Sleep?"

She nodded, "Yes... actual sleep. I've been here long enough, it's starting to affect me. Stuck
as a human, you know? If I keep it up long enough, I might even have a period- though I still
can't get pregnant. Natural mimicry at work. Go on."

He lingered in the door for a few more minutes as she started using his own semen, a little of
Dean's, and some of her own squirt to draw smaller Runes on the boy's forehead, over his
heart, and then a smaller one at the base of his dick, before repeating the process with another
layer. One, he thought, of probably dozens. That's how it usually worked.

It was nearly eleven now, but Harry was still alert and wide awake as he entered the Dungeon
once more. It took just a glance to see that Neville was worn out, asleep, and that Hermione
had finished him off, because she was passed out with his semi-flaccid cock still held against
her hairy cunt, both oozing with yellowing cum on the bed. Ginny was also curled up asleep
on the couch, while a surprisingly haggard-looking Ron sat at the edge of the bed,
occasionally glancing toward their shared girlfriend and roommate, or even his sister.

Harry sighed, "Come on, let's get the girls in a bedroom. Maybe leave Neville here."

Ron nodded and did the same, pushing his now naked body upright and bending to reach for
the wand that stuck from his trousers. "I'll get Hermione."

Each levitating one witch, Harry gestured to the first bedroom, "You should put her in there.
Lilith's doing... something with Dean in the other. Not shagging."

"Dean? Why's...?"

"I'll explain once I know more," Harry shook his head, "Um... is it... going to be a problem if
I put Ginny in with me?"

Ron snorted tiredly, "Mate... you keep shagging her in front of me. I know you're doing it.
Whatever."

Harry held the girl aloft, drifting aimlessly in his room, with one hand while he pulled back
the blankets with the other and set her down as gently as possible before arranging Ginny into
a comfortable position, covering her up, and pressing a kiss to the sweaty forehead before
padding from the room to get her clothing, then Hermione's. Outside the other door, he
hesitated a moment, rapped once softly, then entered.

Like he had been before, Ron was sitting on the edge of the bed, but clad in boxers now,
while Hermione was beneath the covers, still sleeping soundly. "All I wanna do is climb in
and sleep with her, mate," Ron said quietly as he entered and set the clothes on the dresser,
"but I'm still awake and randy, even though I'm tired."

Harry shrugged, "I was like that yesterday. Still am, but I'm not really tired. Wanna go find
someone to shag?"

Ron, to his surprise, shrugged half-heartedly. "I donno. I just... it's... weird. Can we... er,
talk?"

"Sure. Here, or...?"

"No," he shuddered, glancing at Hermione, "out in the commons."

"Right."

A few minutes later, a mug of elf-delivered tea in each pair of hands, Harry waited patiently
for Ron to say what was on his mind. He hadn't been gone that long in either case, but clearly
something had happened, something that had his friend very preoccupied.

"She said it was just for us," he murmured eventually, staring at the now low-banked fire.
"Hermione did."

"Her... what?"
Ron frowned. "Her... well, her body. She said it was just us. But when Ginny got tired, she
didn't... didn't hesitate. She just climbed up there and..."

Harry understood at once. He couldn't feel bad about it, though. There wasn't any jealousy
there for him. He was glad Hermione had enjoyed it, and that she was able to help Neville,
and that he had, too. Likely, it wouldn't be the last time. Hannah wouldn't be able to keep up
with the Runes Neville now sported, especially as they activated fully.

"Do you think she loves you less? Either of us?"

Ron hesitated, running a hand through his shaggy hair and setting his tea aside after another
sip. "No... no, not really. I just... it was ours. Just you and me, you know? Something...
special. Now..."

"Now it's just you, me, Neville... and Lilith."

Ron blinked, nodded, then looked up, "Wait... what?"

Harry shrugged, "She's a Succubus. She can grow a todger if she wants to. Over the summer,
they... had that experience. Just once, but still."

Ron whistled, "Huh, never imagined... bet it was hot."

Harry grinned, "Hot as hell. I love watching Hermione get fucked hard. You, Lilith... Neville.
Even if I didn't really see that."

"I s'pose," Ron murmured, reaching for his tea again. "I just... like she was saying, like you've
said, life isn't all about sex, right? I mean, I just... wanted something special, just for us."

"She still is. She always will be. Not 'cause of any Runes, or Lilith, or anything. Hermione
loves us. Both of us, equally. She doesn't love Neville like that, she just gave him pleasure,
and accepted his. At least, that's how Lilith would describe it. I find myself agreeing."

Ron swallowed, then shrugged. "I guess. It's not something we can undo, anyway, and I'm
not... upset, or anything. I just... I don't know. Something."

Harry nodded. He felt the same way, or had, the first time he watched Lilith or Hermione
with Ron. That same kind of queasy, uneasy feeling. It passed, though, with time and
pleasure.

Just like what he suspected was another queasy feeling Ron might have.

"So... your sister. Ginny."

"Mm? What 'bout her?"

"She was watching you wank. You watched intently as she blew me."

Ron snorted, "That's... shut up."

Harry smiled, shrugging and relaxing into the couch as he remembered how it looked, how it
felt... how Ron looked as he tried not to be aroused by it. "Don't know why you're mad at me.
You're the one perving on your sister. Or her perving on you."

"Shut up."

"Nah," Harry said with a teasing grin, "Come on, it's just us blokes. She's fit, you know?
Really fanciable, and a great lay."

Ron's eyes narrowed, his shoulders tensed, but a few seconds later, the fight left him in a
rush. "Fine... okay? Fine. She's gorgeous. Are you happy?"

"And you like seeing her nude?"

Again, Ron's eyes narrowed, but for a shorter period. "I- I guess."

"Okay."

There was silence for several minutes, then, "Just... okay? You aren't gonna yell at me, or tell
me it's sick? I mean, I don't wanna do anything about it. I just... think she's really pretty."

"She is really pretty, Ron. And no, I wasn't planning on any of that."

"Er... oh."

Again, silence reigned in the common area.

Then a pain whisper, barely audible, escaped his best friend's mouth. "I... wanted her to do it.
To touch me. I... I am sick."

"Maybe," Harry said with another shrug, internally crowing, "but if she had..."

"You'd have hexed me."

"No... I'd have told her to have fun. G'night, Ron."

Then, while his friend gaped, Harry stood, slipped into his room, stripped nude, and entered
the bed where he spooned up against his Pet. Ginny murmured into her pillow and adjusted
his hand so it lay against her left breast, then fell still once more.

Harry smiled, closed his eyes, and took a long sniff of her hair, still smelling of shampoo,
grass, sweat, and sex, before he fell asleep as well.
 Shattering more than Limits

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Of course there's also my DISCORD, here, https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG which has all kinds
of fun goodies too. ;)

Chap. 31: Shattering more than Limits

On Thursday, Harry woke slowly, warm and nightmare-free. Usually if he woke early it was
due to nightmares, but there had been far fewer of them since Lilith had been sharing his bed.

The reason for his wakefulness seemed obvious: he was rested, even though it had only been
about four and a half hours since he'd fallen asleep, and wasn't yet five. He didn't have to pee,
but he did have a raging erection, one that was sandwiched between two warm mounds of
flesh, small and firm, while a body was curled into his, the source of the other heat.
"Lilith...?"

"In the kitchens, Master, bringing you breakfast so you can have some fun with your friends
before classes. Your Pet has a free period, her only one today, but you have class in a couple
hours."

"Gods above, you're a gift. I'm randy."

The reply was accompanied by amusement, "Then use your Pet. She's quite awake, you know,
and thinking of that slab between her legs."

Harry smiled into Ginny's hair, then began sliding his thumb over the nipple beneath his hand
and working his hips back, then forward.

Ginny groaned and whispered, "You awake?"

"Mm. Love waking up next to you, Gin."

"I love you, Harry," she murmured, "I... I'm not sure how I feel about last night, though."

He didn't stop. Instead, he reached down between Ginny's legs to find her well-lubricated
already. He gently pinched the hood of her clit, then reached around with his other hand to
stabilize her waist before pushing his dick upward, guiding it into her folds. Both moaned as
they came together fully and he started moving languidly, while she lifted one leg to change
the angle slightly. "About fucking Neville?"

"Mm... that too."

Harry smiled once more, glad she wasn't facing him. Ginny had always been able to read him
as well as Hermione, and might just know something was up by his expression alone if she
was. "I talked to Ron after you guys passed out for a bit."

She froze, but he didn't stop moving, and after a moment, she forced herself to start grinding
against him, one hand covering his on her upturned breast.

"He told me some things in confidence, but some of it was... not jealousy, not really, but
some weird confusion over Nev and Hermione."

"I was so jealous I couldn't keep going," she muttered, "I want my Runes next. Sorry I
couldn't milk you dry, Harry."

"It's fine," he laughed, moving a bit faster and putting a hand beneath her raised knee to pull
it up and shift her hips a bit more, "I didn't lack for attention, you know. Besides, Lilith made
it very clear. My bond is the strongest, so my Runes are the strongest. I'll doubt I'll ever be
fully satisfied unless I'm unconscious, and even that's not a guarantee. The Runes will make
you able to handle more, but it won't be... enough. That's why the..."

"The harem?"

He nodded, pressing his lips against the back of her neck. "Yeah."

"Harry Potter, Harem Lord," Ginny giggled, shifting her body, half pulling him out so she
was on her back, then leaned in to kiss him on the chin, "and I'm his Chief, right?"

"Not a power play," Harry muttered, "you're my Pet."

"Good enough," she whispered, then threw herself over him. As she sat up astride his
member, the blankets pooled around her, and once more Harry smiled at the pale flesh lit
only by starlight through the window as Ginny began to rock forward and back, one hand on
his chest, the other still working her own teat. "Gods, I love you, Harry. Everything... even
that you've summoned a Succubus and made us your little whores."

"Not my whore," he whispered gently, "my Pet. Did you like having Neville? He's wide."

"Thick as... as my arm," Ginny moaned, and started moving faster, "I was so stretched. You're
bigger overall, but he's even- even thicker than you, M- Master."

He smiled, and rested his hands on her hips as she continued to rock. "How many times did
he fill you, Pet?"

"S- Six, I think. Lost- lost track."

"Mm... what about Ron?"

Ginny froze, looking down at him with fear that caught Harry quite off-guard. "Wh- what
about him?"

He pulled her close, gently, and left a hand on her back to feel her nipples slide on his chest
while his other moved to squeeze one arse cheek, holding it open as he started to pump
himself. "I saw you looking at him, that's all. What's your... judgment? How does he stack
up?"

"Pretty sure it's ob- obvious," Ginny murmured, nibbling on his ear once it became apparent
he wasn't upset.

"I want you to say it, Pet."

"He's... long," she whispered, "he'd be too long for me. Don't- don't know how Hermione
holds him."

Harry started moving faster again, this time bringing both hands to squeeze and separate her
cheeks, and left one finger nuzzling at her bum hole, while another drifted to slide between
his own slick flesh and the edges of Ginny's cunt, which slid and rolled with every motion he
made. "I bottom out in Hermione. Fits me perfect, right to the tip. He's longer... if he goes all
the way in, which I've seen him do..."

Ginny whimpered, "Right up- right into her c- cervix..."

"Like I can do with you," he murmured.

She whimpered again, but said nothing, nearly falling limply over him while he sped up
again.

"And... he'd be all the way into your womb."

There was another whimper, a quiet, soft one that almost seemed to pain the girl, and he felt
her walls squeeze him just a bit tighter. Not a climax, or not a full one, he thought, but she is
definitely intrigued. Well, this just proves it, as far as I'm concerned. End of year goal,
unlocked.

A part of Harry still felt that it was strange to want what he did for his Pet and best mate, but
a larger, louder part of him wanted it anyway. After another minute, she shuddered and came
for real, gushing around him. Harry filled her a moment later, grunting in ecstasy.

Only later, after they had both showered separately using his own ensuite (for the sake of
appearances, for whatever that was worth at this point, or maybe to speed things along), did
Harry stop Ginny with a hand over hers on the doorknob of his room.

"Pet. Do something for me?"

"Mm, of course, Harry."

"If Ron ever asks you to touch him... do it with my blessing. Okay?"
Ginny's eyes widened. "You- what? What do you mean?"

"I mean, if he ever asks you to wank him... do it. I want to watch."

For a moment, she was quiet and still. Then, as the door opened, she laughed joyously, almost
too loudly, "You're such a pervert, Harry."

He lingered a moment behind, joining her for breakfast, though shortly into the meal, just
after he heard Hermione rousing for the shower, he leaned over Ginny and said, "That's
'you're such a pervert, Master.'"

Once again, after Charms where Professor Flitwick complimented Lyra on her (entirely
stolen) spell-knowledge, they had an hour-long study session that got Harry and Ron mostly
caught up on their homework with only their Transfiguration to go for Friday's last class.
Then their shorter Transfiguration lesson, where a still-disapproving Professor McGonagall
reminded them quite firmly that those who couldn't keep up with the course-work would be
dropped mid-term if necessary. Lunch was brief and hurried, but Potions under Professor
Slughorn was much more relaxed than other classes Harry had had, even more than his first
with the rotund wizard.

After that, Hermione had Ancient Runes and Arithmancy while he and Ron were free.
Neville still had Divination, but that meant Harry and the ginger would be on their own for
two and a half hours before dinner.

Time, in other words, to go for a fly.

The Quidditch Pitch was empty as most students were still in classes or studying, so the pair
were alone for quite a while as they zoomed round, occasionally making passes or blocking
them with the single Quaffle they'd brought out from the Gryffindor's practice set.

Neither noticed another older student come to join them at first, but Katie Bell had her
whistle handy, and both started, immediately coasting to a stop near her after it blasted.

"Hey, Katie," Harry said with a grin, giving her a long look then a wink, which she ignored
pointedly.

"Hi, Harry, Ron. You're a better blocker than I've seen in a while, Weasley. Need a Keeper
this year- you gonna try out?"

Ron immediately flushed. "Er... I'm- I'm not that good."

Harry snorted, "Not as good as Wood, maybe, but that man lives and breathes Keeping.
You're better than most."

"I agree," Katie said, "I'm serious, though. Tryouts haven't been posted yet, but I'm thinking
Wednesday night after dinner, maybe next Saturday if we get a lot of sign-ups. Harry, I want
you there, too. Don't go thinking it's automatic. I want the whole team, your sister included,
Ron."
"Er... okay. We'll let her know."

A few moments later, pleasantries exchanged, the boys were in their side of the locker room
while Katie flew around herself. "Er... what d'you reckon?"

"About the Keeping?"

"No, about Katie's skills in bed. Yes, the Keep- No. No way." Ron had noticed Harry's almost
sheepish expression. His jaw fell open. "You... you really did? But she's- well, she was with,
er, Alicia and Angelina, last I heard."

"And your brothers," Harry said quietly, "They were all going... well, to make it work as a
group. At least, to hear Katie tell it."

"So why'd she shag you then? I mean, I know you're like, a decent looking bloke and you've
got the whole Succubus thing going for you, but how'd you get Katie if she's with the twins
and the other Chasers? Er... the other Chaser. Well, Angelina, anyway."

Harry shrugged, "Honestly it was mostly luck, I think. I saw her on the map the first night
back, kind of followed her. It was late, wanted to see what she was up to. Went out for a fly.
Turns out..." Harry leaned in then dropped his voice after glancing around to check for
eavesdroppers, "Turns out Katie likes a bit of 'healthy breeze 'round her privates' when flying
late at night."

Ron laughed at the repeat of the words an old wizard they'd seen wearing a woman's
housecoat at the Quidditch World Cup had used, then grinned as the implication set in. "Wait,
really?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. I was just wanting to talk- though of course I wouldn't have said no to
more- since I was still thinking about Alicia a lot. She was, too, told me they were all
together before... but that things felt different. I think they're still planning on it, leaving
together, but I don't know for sure. She, uh... well, it was out on the stands."

Ron snickered, "You shagged on the Quidditch stands? Lucky. I dream about doing it out
there, you know, or on the Pitch itself."

"I didn't, but the locker rooms I did," Harry admitted.

"Ooh, yeah, locker rooms would be fun. Anyway, so about the Keeping, then?"

"Do it. You're better than you think. Nerves are your worst enemy, but we know how to
conquer those from last year, don't we? I mean, you played most of the season."

Ron blinked, then swallowed, before a wide smile broke out. "Yeah, I guess I did. I mean, I
sort of thought they'd find someone... better, you know? 'Course, I'd do it anyway if... you
think I could convince Hermione to go down on me before a game?"

"Maybe," Harry laughed, privately thinking Hermione might just go down on him for fun if
he ever asked, "or someone else. A good-luck charm, of sorts."
"Damn," Ron said, eyes wide with the possibilities, "Lavender... or- d'you..." his voice
softened, growing quieter, "D'you think... Katie...?"

"Maybe," Harry answered again, more quietly himself, "She... might prefer girls, though. It's
hard to say, with what she mentioned before about the lot of them."

Ron blinked and let out a low whistle. "Huh. Still..."

Harry nodded, "Still."

"There's other options, yeah? I heard Demelza, in Ginny's year, is pretty good on a broom,
too, and they're friends. She could put in a good word."

"You want your sister to get you laid?"

Ron laughed, clapping a hand to Harry's shoulder, "You're one to talk. Would you turn down
any help to get more play?"

"No... I don't think I would," Harry smiled, following his friend back out onto the grounds.

They both had some hunting to do, and at least another half-hour before dinner.

"What about that one?" Ron asked in a low voice, "I've heard her talking about you a few
times. A lot, actually. Ginny doesn't think much of her, but she's pretty fit."

Harry followed his friend's eyes to a small knot of girls that were hanging out, one of several,
on the long bridge that crossed one of the narrow gorges at the north end of the Hogwarts
Valley. It was pretty easy to figure out who the ginger was talking about. Three of the four
girls were rather plain, and only one was good looking enough to catch his friend's eye.
"Vane?"

"I think that's her name, yeah," Ron nodded, pointedly looking away and putting his hands
together as he leaned over the balustrade in a casual sort of way.

"Fangirl."

"Pussy," Ron reminded him quietly, "she'll put out, yeah?"

Harry blinked, "Can't argue with that logic- she probably would. But... we'll have to try
something to guarantee she'll stay quiet about it. Already too many rumors as it is."

Ron snorted, "I can shut her up, got a gag, if you know what I mean."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Be nice. Just because you want something new to get your rocks off
in..."

"Sorry. Anyway... what d'you reckon?"

Harry watched his friend for a moment, but he did seem sincere in his apology, at least. And,
truth be told, this wasn't the first time he'd thought about having the girl. Once he and Ginny
had become friends earlier the previous year, he'd learned that Vane had taken over the
unofficial headship of his fan-club at Hogwarts. That left her, in Harry's mind, both available
as an easy conquest- a very willing one- and somewhat off-limits. He hated his fame, even if
Lilith wanted him to use it more. Still...

"I have an idea. Got any parchment?"

"A little... here."

Harry wrote a quick note and folded the scrap into a paper airplane, then tapped it with his
wand. Silent casting was still difficult, but he was starting to get the hang of it. Mentally
repeating the words was not effective but the intent behind the magic was. It just took a
whole other level of concentration and focus to do it, until even that became habit.

"What'd you say?"

"Wait and see..."

He and Ron watched out of the corners of their eyes as the paper fluttered across the bridge to
the far end, and alighted in Romilda Vane's black hair. She flinched at first, then reached up
to take it gingerly. She unfolded it, looking confused, then read it, immediately turning red.

Of course, she had known he was there- the girls had all started shooting him and Ron furtive
glances the moment they'd appeared on the path. She looked their way, then sent a quick
thumbs-up before leaning in to whisper furiously to her friends.

A few minutes later, she left the loudly-giggling lot, still red-faced, to come toward them.

Harry stood up off the bannister, Ron following, and waited for her to reach them with a
casual pose as well, hands in his pockets. "Hi, uh... Romilida, right? Vane?"

She giggled, nodding, "And of course I know who you are. And... Weasley. Ginny's brother,
Ron?"

The taller of the boys nodded too, his own body language far less casual, but still relaxed
enough Harry doubted the other, younger girl would have noticed. "So... you okay to talk?
Alone?"

"Of course," Romilda giggled, throwing a glance past her dark plait, which hung just below
her waist, toward her friends, "Where would you like to go?"

Harry pretended to glance around the castle grounds, though he'd already had a place in
mind. "Oh... I don't know. How about... a walk? It's alright if Ron comes, right? You want to,
mate?"

"Sure, I'd like to cum," Ron snickered quietly, forcing Harry to roll his eyes again.
Romilda didn't seem to notice the slight change in wording, and giggled once more as she
brazenly hooked an arm through Harry's. "Lead the way, Harry... can I call you Harry?"

"Sure," the dark-haired boy grinned easily, walking slowly at first but then quickening his
pace as they cleared the bridge and turned off toward the Forbidden Forest.

She started asking questions as soon as they were out of ear-shot of the others, most of which
Harry or occasionally Ron gave single-word answers to, but the fifteen year old didn't seem
to notice that neither boy was particularly interested in conversation. Romilda was also more
than willing to make up for the lack, her mouth running what seemed like three or four miles
a minute as they wound their way downward from the hills and into the lower forest edge.

Only there did she hesitate, casting one glance toward the castle as the sun began to light the
parapets orange. "Um... it's almost dinner. Shouldn't we be... getting back? And isn't the
forest... dangerous?"

"For me? No," Harry laughed easily, making sure to put his hand over the girl's on his arm,
"Ron and I'll protect you. Besides, we were thinking about a bit of a picnic. It'd mean
spending more time with me. You don't want to stop and go back empty-handed, right?"

"Er, n- no," Romilda murmured, then straightened her back- the top of her head didn't come
up to Ron's shoulders, he noticed, though it was about at his eye level. "We can- we can go
on. Anything for you, Harry."

He let that comment sit for a bit as they turned deeper into the forest, not following any path
he could remember, until he found a suitable clearing with a gigantic fallen log, moss-
covered, that lay partially over a small pool that had formed around a drop in the land. He
glanced about quickly, finding no trace of Hogwarts visible aside from the dim glow of the
towers in the sunset, and gently pulled out his wand. "Just for some privacy- protective
enchantments," he reassured the girl, and walked with her, setting out several that he'd
learned to protect a small area. Most of the 'casts', however, were gibberish. Truth be told, he
wasn't that interested in warding off the more dangerous creatures in the forest- except for the
spiders. Those, he could do without, and Ron felt better the moment he started layering those
wards.

"So... you- you mentioned a picnic?"

Harry grinned as the final spells fell into place. "Yeah... we'll feed you, I promise. You said
earlier you'd do anything for me."

"Y- yeah," Romilda murmured, sending Ron a glance, "Er..."

"Did you mean that?"

She straightened again, "Of- of course I did! I'm your biggest fan, you know? I adore you."

Ron, over her shoulder, smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

"Good... just what I wanted to hear," Harry said, stepping toward her and gently resting his
hands on her hips, leaning low.

Romilda stiffened at his touch, but melted into him with a sigh as he whispered, "How badly
do you want to shag the Boy Who Lived?"

Romilda's blush returned full-force, but she looked up at him almost angrily, "Really badly.
Is- is that why you brought me out here? To shag?"

He smiled, stepping back a little, "Yep. Smart girl."

The younger girl swallowed, then patted her cheeks. "Al- alright. I'll do it. Um... what
about...?"

"Ron?"

She nodded, looking over her shoulder again.

"You said you'd do anything- so shag him, too. We're friends, see?"

Her red face paled considerably. "U- Oh. Um... oh- okay. I..."

"Good... now..." Harry reached for his zipper and smoothly fished out his member. "Let's start
with your mouth- both of us."

"Oh..." Harry shot Ron a pleased look as the girl sank to her knees in the forest loam, then
reached out a tentative hand. She poked his tip once, giggling almost hysterically as it
bounced and then watching wide-eyed as it started to swell and rise.

After a few moments it tapped her chin, and even started to lift the witch's head with the
force of it. "That's it.. put it in your mouth. Close your lips and suck on it, move back and
forth."

Harry grinned as the girl started to do as he instructed, and looked up from her light freckles
and dark hair, swaying only a little with her tentative motions, to see Ron with his own rod
out, trousers still up, while he walked the few feet it took to reach them and stand beside
Harry.

"Look at me, Romilda," Harry urged, and the girl's dark brown eyes opened at once, then
widened as she noticed Ron still there. "Take him in hand. Stroke him."

Ron groaned, keeping his hand at his base while she started stroking the length of him to
keep himself angled toward her mouth. "There you go... good little slut."

Romilda looked offended for a moment, and even pushed herself off of Harry to glare
upward, but the moment she opened her mouth, Harry pushed back in and took her head in
his hands. "Hrmphy!"

"Relax, it's our secret that you're our slut," he told her softly, and called upon... something.
Something he knew was within him, now...
His bond.

He couldn't define how it felt, having the energy, the magic, the essence, of Lilith flowing
through him, but he knew that it was. Knew the moment his vision went pink, as if he were
wearing rose-tinted glasses, then back to normal.

Romilda's eyes went blank.

Not white, not pink. They stayed brown, dark in the gloaming light, but expression left them.
No anger, no rage, no visible lust. She did relax, though, and Harry grinned over at Ron.
"There. Didn't know that'd work, but... suck his cock too, slut."

Romilda nodded, taking Harry's cock from her mouth once more to replace it with Ron, who
groaned, "Damn, Harry... what did you do? I felt... something, but... Gods... I love getting
head!"

He shrugged, physically bending to lift Romilda's other hand to stroke him, then stuck a hand
down her shirt, which was open a few buttons already due to the heat of the day. "Not sure.
Used... something. Part of Lilith's powers, I guess. She's not too good at blowjobs, but..."

"Hot and wet."

"Yeah... my turn, Romilda. Don't forget me..."

"Never," she whispered, and he was glad to see a bit of emotion back in her eyes as she
turned to tug on him once more.

Ron grinned as she started wanking him without being told, then used her other hand to begin
unbuttoning her blouse the rest of the way. Harry let her do so until the white cloth was
hanging open, then pushed her bra down on one side, giving one pale, freckled teat a squeeze.
Romilda groaned.

"My turn, mate."

Harry smiled, "Do it- do anything either of us tell you, Romilda, and we'll make you feel
good."

"Yes, Harry," she replied at once, "I like feeling good."

Then Ron groaned again as she tried shoving him all the way down her throat. He was far too
long at first, she struggled before reaching a third of his cock, but the taller wizard
appreciated the effort, judging by how his hands flew to her head and held her there while he
started stroking in and out slowly.

Harry gave Romilda's tit another grope, then stepped in again, and used a hand to push
himself down and into her mouth, too. There was a faint pop, and Ron gaped. "Er, mate...
Hermione was one thing, but..."

"Feels good, yeah? Slag Romilda... you like having two cocks in your mouth at once?"
She didn't say anything, but nodded on both of them, gagging again as she tried to deep-
throat them both. Even having Ron's dick pressed up against his didn't give Harry any sort of
weird feelings in the moment, but he still only thrust a few times before pulling out and
lifting his trousers again so he could walk easier. He stepped behind Romilda and lifted her
with his elbows beneath her shoulders, making her cry out in surprise and Ron in annoyance,
"Damn it, Harry- I was getting close!"

"Patience, Ron... Romilda, I want you to leave your clothes on, but lay down on that log. No,
put your head on the lower side. There's a good slut."

"Oh, I gotcha," Ron chuckled, "Sorry, Harry. Should've known you knew what you were
doing."

Harry grinned, waiting and watching as Romilda positioned herself as he asked, then threw a
leg over it himself. He was at her head, and lowered himself so his scrotum, hanging low in
the late summer heat, smacked against Romilda's mouth. "Lick those- suck on them gently.
Are you a virgin, Romilda?"

She answered obediently before doing as he said, voice a bit dull, "Right now I am, but I'll be
a slut tomorrow."

Ron laughed, stepping up and throwing a leg over the log as well just above the half-rotted
roots. "What'd you have in mind, Harry?"

The dark-haired Contractor shrugged. "Occurs to me you haven't taken anyone's virginity yet,
that's all. But Romilda wants you to have hers, doesn't she?"

"Harry wants me to be a slut. I want to be a slut," the girl murmured around Harry's sack, one
hand starting to stroke him again, the other using the tips of her fingers to guide his testicles
toward her tongue as they rolled away. "I am a slut."

Ron let out a low whistle. "Damn, Harry... whatever you did..." But he seemed to put the
matter from his head as he leaned forward between Romilda's legs and lifted her skirt to
reveal lacy white knickers, which were drenched enough to show a thick thatch of dark hair
and a puffy pink slit, heavily engorged, behind them. "Dinner time," he murmured, before
shifting the lace to the side and beginning to eat his fill.

Harry let Romilda keep licking his balls for more than a minute before asking, "What does
she taste like, Ron?"

Just then, he watched as Romilda's hips started to shake. Ron, politely, kept at it until her
orgasm was finished even though her legs clenched powerfully around his head until it was
over, then looked up with a glistening face. "Gravy, if you can believe it- Mum's gravy."

Harry grinned, "Budge up."

As Ron sat up higher and started stroking his still-hard self, Harry leaned down and took a
long lick himself, finding that Ron was very right- the flavors were almost identical. Huh. He
only licked at the swollen cunt a few seconds before withdrawing, though, and rose back up
to look down at Romilda's red face. "Ron's going to take your virginity, slut. Tell me how that
makes you feel."

"I wish it was Harry," she replied at once, "but I'm happy to be Harry's slut for his friend."

That phrase twinged in Harry's mind, but Ron didn't notice anything strange, and watching
his best friend step forward on bowed legs toward the girl then angle himself down toward
her still panty-glad entrance distracted him heavily. Ron didn't remove them, only shifted the
thin strip of sodden cloth aside. "Here- here goes..."

He prodded twice, then, with two fingers holding the angle correctly, pushed all the way in.

The red-head was not gentle at all, and Harry actually heard the girl's hymen rip, but she
didn't seem to care for whatever pain there was. Instead, she gasped, "Oh, Harry, I'm so full!
He's in my baby-place! Oh, oh... I want your cock! Give it to me, please, please, Harry!"

Ron, buried to the hilt between Romilda's legs, looked up with a white face. "H- Harry? I- I
think I am. I... shit, all the way.. It's tight, but... gods it's so hot..."

"Does it hurt, slut?" Harry asked quietly, looking past his own throbbing shaft at the girl,
whose expression was one of bliss instead of agony.

She whimpered, "N- No... I want cock... I'm a slut... I'm a slut... use my body, because I'm a
slut!"

He was growing even more confused by the effects of... whatever it was he'd done, but Harry
could only shrug, "You heard the girl. Have fun, I guess."

Ron obediently grinned, pushing the girl's blouse to the sides and giving both slightly saggy,
hanging breasts a pull towards him by the nipple, then pulled harder until he lost his grip.
Romilda yelped, then groaned, even as Harry could see the girl's flesh already darkening with
a bruise or two from his friend's fingers. "Maybe not that hard."

"Harder," Romilda moaned, then lifted her head, impatient, to lick at Harry's nuts again.

Ron started to move, eyes closing as he pulled out slowly, then looking down at his head,
which was still half-inside the furred vagina. "Shit... blood. I think I tore up into her womb,
Harry..."

"I don't care," Romilda muttered, "use... use your slut."

The two wizards shared a groan, and Ron pushed back in, slower, eyes closed again, until he
was once more bottomed out. "H- hymen was there... w- womb... shit... shit... gods and
Merlin and..."

Words fell away as he leaned over the girl, hands on her hips, and started pumping faster and
faster. Harry's own cock was starting to throb painfully, too, so he lifted up from Vane's
mouth again and stepped back, angling himself toward her lips, which opened eagerly,
"Harry's co-mph!"
Her tongue started flying back and forth expertly over his glans, then the bulge of his urethra
as he pushed in further and further. Romilda swallowed as he hit her tonsils, then again the
back of her throat. Then he watched her throat swell as he pushed in the rest of the way, until
he could see the bulge of his sensitive head past her now-protruding larynx. The girl was
younger, significantly smaller than either of them, and her throat-pussy was tighter than
almost any human's he'd fucked. Yet something was off. Her initial oral work was sloppy at
best, entirely inexperienced as she was.

Now, though, she exhibited skill of someone more along the lines of a professional. Harry
lost control quickly, and started hammering in and out like Ron, forcing the girl's clothes to
rip and tear as they slammed her body back and forth on the knotted log.

Unusually, Harry came first, climaxing deep into Romilda's throat for the first half, then
filling her open mouth as he left just the tip there against her eager tongue.

He pulled away, still hard but with the edge taken off, to look down at the girl's expression as
Ron kept fucking her as hard as he had anyone before.

The dull look was gone. Instead, it was replaced with one of... if he wasn't mistaken... slavish
devotion. More than Lilith or Ginny by far. Shit... what did I do...? Fangirls...

"Swallow his cum, slut," Ron ordered, "and get ready for mine!"

Romilda obeyed at once, as if Harry had given the order, but took three great gulps to mostly
clear it from her mouth. Ron, though, pulled out- most of the way. Harry watched his longer,
thinner dick pulse twice with just the head inside, then withdraw to plaster long lines up
Romilda's pale flesh, some almost reaching Harry. "Damn, that was good," Ron groaned.
"You want her next, Harry?"

Did he...?

He wasn't really one for sloppy seconds, but... he'd already done worse. And whatever was
going on with Romilda's strange behavior, she seemed quite willing and eager, and he was
still hard... "Sure. Trade?"

After they had changed positions, Harry watched again as the still-hard Ron pushed all the
way into Romilda's throat, too, his own head nearly touching the collarbone but harder to see.
Again, Ron started playing with the girl's tits, squeezing and mauling them roughly enough
that he suspected there wouldn't be a spot without a bruise shortly enough.

He suddenly wanted to leave his mark, too.

So, uncaring that Ron's seed covered her twat and tits, he gave each of the soft mounds a slap
and a squeeze once more, then buried his face between her legs. He even used the fact that he
knew his face was hidden to secretly taste his friend's cum, and grimaced as he did so, then
put it from his mind. Accidents were bound to happen- didn't mean he liked it. Then, using
his teeth, he bit and gave dark, strong hickies to both sides of Romilda's mons, then gently bit
down on her now very visible clit. She groaned, and her hips shook against his face, but he
didn't let go until thirty seconds had passed.
Then, while she gasped around Ron's cock, Harry stood back up and shoved his dick into the
waiting, still dripping pussy.

He'd been in Hermione when Ron had cum inside her before, and Lilith too, but this was a bit
different. He'd let Ron have the girl's virginity, and in some weird, undefinable way, he felt
Romilda Vane wasn't his biggest fan anymore- she was Ron's. Fucking her was amazing,
great, just like anyone he'd been with, yet it was also very much not home. About like his
time with that one Muggle girl he'd gotten to fuck Dudley... Jane? No... Jill.

"A pussy is still a pussy," he reminded himself, and put a hand on the girl's now very swollen,
darkened clit to thumb across it. Romilda came around him almost at once, further lubricating
her channel for Harry, which he used to press further in. He, too, bottomed out, and he knew
at once how Ron had known what he'd done.

Romilda was short, almost as short as Ginny, but much more shallow. His cock-head had
pushed up and in, was now buried between the tight muscles of her cervix which vibrated
faintly around him. It was as stimulating as could be, and Harry groaned as his hips stopped
against the girl's thighs. Then he bent to lift her knees and push them up for Ron to hold,
folding Romilda in half before he pushed in further still.

He groaned as her cervix moved from his head to the narrow spot below it, "Sh- shit, I'm in
her womb, too," he groaned. It was growing dark, but Harry could see plenty well as the girl's
body started to rock in time with his thrusts. Ron came again, covering Romilda's tits even
more, and immediately put his dick back in her throat, which opened for him happily. Harry
groaned, his own second climax starting to approach now, when he felt Lilith's presence
appear in the clearing as she lowered herself from the sky, then became visible to both of
them- and Romilda.

"Oh, Master," she sighed, looking a bit sadly at Romilda, who was eagerly swallowing and
still lapping at Ron's shaft while Harry hammered her, "you need to be careful... especially
with powers you don't know you have! Climax inside her... then both of you will need to take
her ass."

"I... what?"

Lilith only shook her head, appearing as Ron's preferred, older form, and let the clothes fade
as she stepped over to Romilda and put a hand between the girl's temple and Ron's thigh, and
the other over her heart between the battered, swinging tits.

Harry watched as Romilda shuddered in another incredible orgasm, the shaking in her body
combining with the arch of her back to coax his second out even more quickly.

He blasted inside as deeply as he could and felt once more as his jizz hit her own flesh with
the force of a slap... and didn't stop.

His orgasm kept going, and pulse after pulse of semen left him, filling the witch's young
womb over and over, until her belly began to swell.
Ron, too, it seemed, was in similar straights, and Romilda was swallowing convulsively as he
shook over her, pumping the largest load Harry had ever seen from him into her stomach.

Finally, Romilda's thin, flat stomach bulging more than two inches, quite visible, Harry's
orgasm faded and he was able to force himself out, though he was still rock-hard and coated
with semen. Ron joined him, and Lilith wasted no time in lifting the girl, who gasped for air
but seemed none the worse for wear despite having had a cock filling her throat for more than
ten minutes, to spin her around and drape her over the log.

"Who took her virginity?"

Harry pointed to Ron, who looked sheepish.

Lilith nodded, "Then, Master, you'll need to take her in the ass first. Hard and fast- don't
make her suffer any more than you have to, just climax and be done."

"S- Suffer more? Isn't it... hard...? Doesn't it hurt?"

"Not for her, not anymore," Lilith shrugged, still a bit sadly, "Go on... she'll be tight, I'm sure.
I've already put some lube there from your semen."

He looked down, and somehow he could tell that the mixture was from both he and Ron.
Again, he felt the faintest of twinges, but... it was a hole, quivering, and he wanted to.

So he did as his Succubus asked, and stepped behind Romilda to force himself in, slowly but
firmly. Romilda gasped and threw her head back, and he watched as, around the log, her
hands flew back to hold her arse cheeks apart for him, "Deeper, harder!"

"Damn, she really is a slut," Ron gasped.

"She is now," Lilith muttered, "Master broke her, and you need to finish the job or... well, it
won't be good. I hope you're randy, Ron, because you have to fuck her in the ass, too- both of
you will need to do it inside her. Fill her up completely."

Harry nodded, using his hands on either side of Romilda's waist to begin pounding her into
the log, feeling as her rectum and anus clasped around him rhythmically, almost like she was
born a Succubus. He'd only fucked a few people this way, and of them, only Lilith had been
able to time the squeezing of their orifice for maximum pleasure- until now.

Just thinking about how it felt to plunge into her back door, too, made Harry groan in time
with Ron. He shot a quick glance to his left to see Lilith, still in Ron's favorite form,
surrounding his slick cock with her bountiful tits, and licking at his tip while he stared down
at her.

Clearly, getting him ready.

He'll need it, shit I'm close already!

He exploded as Romilda clamped down on him, her body shaking as the moss against her
front stimulated her clit even more. Again, he continued blasting inward, and he tried to
count, but the pleasure made him lose track somewhere in the thirty-five range of how many
times his cock lurched and balls twitched.

He was still incredibly sensitive when he pulled out, so he groaned when Lilith stood and
pulled him away by a rather rough, hard grip on the base of his dick. He moaned instead
when she took him, to the base, in her mouth, licking him clean in one go. "Mm... Master and
Ron both still taste good, and I love the virgin blood. But you have to be careful next time!
Go on, Ron... take her. Claim her."

"In... in the arse?"

Lilith gave him a look that said she was done repeating herself, so Ron swallowed and angled
his again-ready self down. "Er... are you going to... leave it?"

"Yes. It's necessary, even if it's a bit of a waste. Go on. Remember, fast and hard, fill her with
everything you can."

Ron shook his head, then pushed in as Harry had done, mounting the younger girl the same
way. He lost himself to the joy of sex faster, giving the other wizard time to ask his Succubus,
"What... did I do? I knew I did something... right off. I just don't know what."

"You broke her," Lilith said quietly, maintaining the same form, "broke her will and
resistance. What exactly did you say right before you did it?"

"I..."

Harry frowned. What had he said? That was several minutes ago, an hour or so maybe, and at
least three orgasms. "Um... I think I said it would be- be our secret that she was our little
slut."

"'As righ'," Ron grunted, bending low over the girl's freckled back as he started humping
even faster, doglike, driven to new heights by Romilda's growing mewls of ecstasy.

"Shit," Lilith muttered darkly, "You... damn it. I'm guessing it was Tempting Gaze you tried to
use, right?"

Harry shrugged, "I... I don't know. Didn't really have a plan, to be honest. I just wanted her
to... go with it."

Lilith sighed, running a hand over her face, then patting Harry's dick before starting to pump
it slowly. "I'm not angry... I'm not upset. It's just that this will be noticed. Not exactly
Dumbledore's 'discreet'. Honestly, I'm not even sure what power- or powers- you used to do
this. Maybe Aura of Arousal and Tempting Gaze both could do it, if she was in a particularly
weak frame of mind, or... was partially willing, maybe. Still, this is something I've heard of,
I'm just not sure how it's done. It's beyond me. I know what skills I can learn, but until I get
to Tier Three, I can't learn about the Tier Four powers. This might be one of those- or higher."

"Huh?"
Lilith waved his confusion off, "I'll explain later how our powers are arranged. It's not...
formal, not really, but it can seem that way. We're all different, we have our own talents and
whatnot. Tiers are all that's really relevant- power levels. Maybe something like your year
groups, only there's not as many. The fifth is something only the legends of our kind and our
greatest warriors and leaders, our heroes, are capable of reaching, and only the most potent
among our history are said to have mastered even half of the Tier Five powers. They're
loosely grouped by power, and sort of follow 'trees' in a way. Aura of Arousal is required to
learn Tempting Gaze, and my Gaze can never be stronger than my Aura, for example. This...
I'm really not sure what it was or is. But I know what's happening, I can see it in the girl's
heart and mind. She's lost. She's still in there- Romilda Vane is still who she is at the core of
her- but it's been... subsumed.

"Now... now all she wants is to shag. All the time. Anyone."

"Like... you?"

Lilith shook her head. "No... more. Succubi want to shag all the time, but she needs to. It's
going to be all she can think about. The more of your essence within her, the sooner- if ever-
she'll be able to find her way back to herself. But she'll always be like this, in some way.
You've basically Bonded her- to both of you, if I'm not wrong. Made her a Thrall, of sorts."

"A... Thrall?"

"A... slave-bond, you might say. When one of my kind betrays the people in some fashion,
something like this is typically done to them as a punishment. The last punishment. It works
a bit differently on us than a human, because it also takes away our ability to feel pleasure or
gratification. Instead, all we can feel 'good' by doing is servicing others. Her... I'm not sure.
But she's clearly in sexual ecstasy still, despite the pain she should be in, given how you've
both ravaged her."

Harry swallowed.

Lilith shrugged, almost dispassionately watching as Ron climaxed, then started humping
again mid-orgasm, just as Harry had done. "It's too late to worry about stopping or reversing
it- there isn't a way to, as far as I know. But we can maybe give her a semblance of
normalcy."

"She... what should we do? What can we do? I didn't know this..."

Harry couldn't believe how bad he suddenly felt. He knew he'd screwed something up the
moment he'd done... it. But this... this was so much worse than taking Pansy and Daphne
under the influence of the Fog of Lust!

"Fuck her. Use her. It's what she wants," Lilith said quietly, "she wants to be me, or at least,
like me. Maybe... maybe when I go I'll take her with me. Give her the kindest end we can.
Until then... she should come back to herself eventually, but until she does there's no use to
her aside from as a pleasure-slave. Literally- her only purpose in life, right now, is to be 'your
slut'. Not 'your cum-dump', or anything singular, but your 'slut', which means you want her to
fuck a bunch of people. Until she does come back... that's all she'll ever want. Everything else
will be torture."

"Fuckin' hell," Ron muttered as he yanked himself, very spent, out of the girl's arse. Harry
watched their combined semen drip and dribble while Romilda's anus gaped dark and wide,
both it and her twat frothing with cum. "That sounds... bad."

"It is," Lilith murmured, "but again, nothing we can do about it. She'll be ready for anyone,
anytime- the strongest sort of nymphomania you can imagine, but she won't care who or what
else. Honestly, she's safer in your care, to help protect her from diseases or abuse by others."

"So... so you're saying even though I destroyed her personality... she's safer with me? I highly
doubt that," Harry murmured quietly.

Lilith shrugged again. "That's how I see it. You two- and your friends- can make use of her
when no one else is available. It's all she wants. If she's around her friends, she'll try to
seduce and sleep with them. If she's around other men, she'll try with them. If she's around
her family- even a family dog- it won't matter to her. Safer with you, like I said. At least that's
limiting her... use, for lack of a better word, to those you approve of."

Ron swallowed. "Hermione's gonna blow a gasket."

"Let me handle her," Lilith shook her head, "I'll... tell her a variation. Tell her I did it, because
she was using magic against the two of you. That'll calm her down, and she won't mind a bit
of punishment, either. Should also take care of Ginny."

"It's our secret," Romilda's strangely giddy voice said from behind the log, "our secret slut..."

"Exactly," Lilith called brightly, though her expression was still a bit dour and cross. "Now-
you should get back, Ron. Hermione was looking for you about homework you missed for
tomorrow, and it's getting late. I'll bring these two back shortly, I need to have a talk with
Master about our powers."

"Your... oh. Okay. That- that way?"

Lilith nodded, "Yes, just follow the lights. If Hermione asks, tell her you were set upon by a
too-eager girl, and that I'm taking care of it. I'll explain later. Ginny too, for that matter."

Ron nodded, "Right. I'll... see you later then."

A few minutes later, he had vanished into the darkness.

Lilith sighed and Harry watched as her own cock, her natural one with the bumps and ridges,
began to grow before the rest of her body followed suit to the battle-form. Then Lilith
stepped, taller than he was once more, over to Romilda and flipped up the now-torn skirt
once more, slicking her cock on his and Ron's juice before pushing inside Romilda's twat
herself.

The witch groaned, "Oh, gods! So big and bumpy! So fucking great! I love every cock!"
Harry watched as Romilda's pussy clenched at Lilith's dick, and felt himself growing hard
once more.

Lilith, though, didn't seem in the mood for this pleasure, oddly. Instead, while she starting
pumping sedately, leaving every bit of their essence from before dripping onto the forest floor
or the log or running down Romilda's legs to soak into her socks. "Info dump time.
Listening?"

"Mm hmm. Damn... you're really stretching her."

"Focus, Master. This is about our powers."

"You said that before- our powers. Not your powers?"

Lilith shook her head, lifting a hand from where her sharp claws were almost drawing blood
from Romilda's quivering arse to point between them both, "No, ours. I was barely Tier One
when I came to answer your Summons. Now, five months later, I'm nearly Tier Three. That's
a prodigious growth, largely fuelled by your excellent feeding in both quality and quantity.
It's also partially due to how easily we've been able to convince your friends to join in. Of
course, their squirt and jizz don't feed me directly, but I can still use their activities to further
arouse you. Your essence feeds me if it's in Hermione or Ginny, and probably now this slut,
too, or any other woman I've been able to gather from. As a result, our own bond combined
with your growing infatuation with me has deepened correspondingly quickly. Many Succubi
never coax a feeling of infatuation resembling love from their Contractors. Not ever. It's
taken less than six months for you to say that you love me."

"I do," Harry murmured quietly, strangely hurt by her own choice of words about his
confession.

Lilith, though, pressed on, even as she pressed further into Romilda's sopping body, "More of
my powers are opening to you. In a way, our souls are becoming linked, in a fashion similar
to that piece of your foe lodged in your forehead, only that will never fully link and we can
and probably will. At that point, I would say that you love me, because I love myself and we
will be- in that sense- one being. When that is done, you may as well be an Incubus for all
intents and purposes, for you'll have full access to everything I am. You could even come to
our world and leave it safely again, in theory. But..."

"But? Sounds like there's a cost," Harry said, watching as the chitin-clad muscle of Lilith's
own firm ass and toned legs moved with her.

"You won't be strictly human anymore," Lilith murmured, "though you also won't be an
Incubus, not really."

Harry's blood felt like it was freezing in his veins.

Then he shook his head, "I don't care."

"You should," she murmured quietly, then picked back up the lecture, "Anyway, you
currently could probably access most of my Tier One powers, if you had the body to do so or
proper equipment. You might be able to use a whip or scourge to invoke Lash of Pain, for
example, and shape fire with Flaming Hands. You're already hardier, so it might be difficult
to test Hellhide, but I've already sensed you using the Aura, and at least subconsciously
reading people's desires and dreams. I've only got three other powers- all three native to our
species, and harder to learn. The Fog of Lust, Cum-Eater, and Body Morphology-
shapeshifting."

"Those all sound... well... some of them could be useful."

Romilda distracted the conversation by having another violent orgasm which left her
convulsing against the log for several seconds. Lilith, still with her engorged, monstrous
penis, withdrew when she was quieter and pushed immediately back into the still wide-open
anus, causing Romilda to shake once more even before she started rutting, this time more by
pulling Romilda back into her and pushing her away.

"Fog you can probably... exhale, or something, if you tried. Maybe. Morphology is hard to
control and learn, but your Polyjuice might help kick-start the process. Cum-Eater..."

"Ew."

Lilith looked over her shoulder, holding her right wing down to see him better, and winked,
"You could sustain yourself solely on the juice of women, if you wish..."

Harry's eyes widened. "I... I haven't, uh- been eating as much."

Lilith's eyes widened as she looked back, "Oh. I thought you were just distracted. Maybe you
do have that power."

"Ron, uh- Ron, too."

Lilith grinned, "Oh, well, I know what Tree he's in, then. It's a fairly common power for
secondary bonds. Useful, though. Once he gets his power... next week, or whatever, after I
give you yours. He'll learn to heal himself by sexual energy- the same way I did when I was
wounded, by having you splatter on me."

Harry frowned at the memory of the apparently grievous wound she'd gotten from a
potentially lethal spell at the Department of Mysteries, but a quick glance of regret told him
there was no sign of it now- even her hide armor was unblemished.

"That's... common?"

Lilith nodded, "Among secondary bonds, yes. That's a clearly-defined tree. The essence
sustains us. It also means that, somewhere in his family tree but probably many generations
back, there is a Succubus or Incubus."

"Which means Ginny...? And the twins. Huh."

Lilith grinned, "Yes. Which might be why that girl in their shop, Verity, was so willing to go
down on you. Or why Ginny wants to be your Pet like me, or..."
"The twins' 'group marriage' with the Flying Foxes."

Lilith grinned, then ripped herself out of Romilda's ass roughly, before fluttering over the log
and turning to use her mouth, too. He could see, now that she was gone, her own off-white
pearly substance leaking from both holes, too.

He shook his head, then stepped in and filled the lower hole once more, sighing as the scent
of his, Ron's, and Lilith's semen hit his nose in a powerful combination, and immediately
started using the nearly insensate lump of flesh between him and his Succubus. "Okay, so...?"

"Anyway, once a Succubus learns enough Tier One powers, they can start saving up energy
for a transformation of sorts- a 'level up', in video game terms, but that's hardly what it is. It's
taking our soul and adding your essence directly to it, combining them. That's why the bond
gets stronger- you fuses with me, making us. The more we have, the stronger it gets."

"Okay, so how many powers are there...?"

"Oh... six or seven hundred."

Harry actually paused in his own rutting. "H- hundred?"

Lilith didn't. Instead, she only glanced down at him approvingly, "Yes. Most of us only learn
a few at each Tier- three to five, depending on the Succubus in question, where our talents lie.
Only those who Contract can even really learn as many as I have, because we grow so much
faster. At home, it takes centuries to grow as strong as I have the last half-year. It's one of the
reasons I volunteered- but I'm glad it was you, Master, and I'm not just saying that."

"I... I'm glad it was you, too," Harry admitted, finding himself blushing even as both of them
continued to fuck into Romilda from opposite sides.

"Anyway, as I said, I'm getting close to Tier Three. A few hundred more bouts from you, and
I'll be good to go. Surely, by the end of the year at your current rate."

"I... see. What about your Tier Two powers? What are they?"

"Only telling you because you're you, Master, and this slut won't remember. It's kind of
private. But the Healing, you've seen. That was Tier One, but having to use it enough to heal
that wound bumped it up. It's basically a more potent version for the same 'cost'. Tempting
Gaze is what I used on Dean the other night, and it can beguile one person most effectively-
if it works at all. It can't, however, cause someone to be self-destructive. It's basically a high-
powered lust inducer, but only works on one person at a time, and the effect is fragile, as I
mentioned. Our bond, too, started at Tier One, but is now Tier Two- which is why we can
now communicate directly, mind-to-mind, instead of only sensing emotions. That's actually
nearly to Tier Three, and we've already experienced a bit of that effect. Sensing- or seeing
directly- what the other is seeing, for example, is a hint of the next stage. Then... Flight."

"Fl- I'll learn to fly? I can already do that."

"With wings, Master," Lilith grinned, lifting hers aloft and spreading them to full. "These are
too small to fly with any sort of gravity and my mass. It takes magic to lift- the wings only
provide propulsion and steering. That's how I can hover, but even that takes a high level of
control. It's my highest level skill, or tied for it, anyway."

Harry whistled, "That actually does sound cool. Flying without a broom... huh."

"Don't finish in her," Lilith said softly, then he watched as her face tightened again and she
slammed the full length of her, for the first time, into Romilda's throat.

The girl didn't gag, but instead climaxed around Harry again, forcing him to pull out lest he
lose his grip.

Then the Succubus flew over the log once more to kneel beside Harry and open her mouth to
receive him. He grinned, "Glad you aren't too mad at me for this, Pet..."

"Never, Mthr!"

Just seconds later, he filled his Succubus' throat with a very satisfying climax that left him
shaking and weak in the knees.

But Lilith was not done yet. Instead, she gently guided him to lean against the log while she
knelt behind Romilda and started cleaning her, finally, of all the leavings with her tongue and
lips, interspersed with more explanation. "You can access more of my powers, again in theory
the entire repertoire, but each of your friends will get what they're most suited to. At least,
those we do the ritual with. I was planning on giving Ginny hers tonight, but this has put us
back. Maybe we'll combine her fun little trip into anal and do it over the weekend. Mm, you
all taste good together."

Harry nodded, unable to keep from watching even though he was feeling quite sated.

"So, the powers I can access next are called Hellfire Bolt, which is a ranged and more
powerful version of Flaming Hands, Orgasmic Aura, which is again a more powerful version
of Arousal- it can cause people to climax within seconds, hence the name, even without being
touched. Innocence Lost might be something you did in combination with other powers, too,
but it's not this strong. It temporarily causes someone to become this wanton- even if they're
very innocent before. It can be resisted, but it's hard. And finally, Local Invisibility. Basically,
I can cloak people about five feet out from me in the same levels of invisibility I have. As it
grows stronger, the radius increases."

Harry whistled, "That can have some uses."

"In not getting caught, and in combat," Lilith agreed. "So... want to try sucking my cock
again, Master?"

"Er..."

Lilith giggled, "Kidding, mostly. I actually want to suck myself.. but can you fill me?"

"S- sure!"
He watched in amazement as Lilith lay down between his outstretched legs and hiked her
legs up onto the log to let him lick her for a few seconds, using that same arch to push her
length between her generous tits and the tip into her mouth.

As always, she tasted strongly of bubblegum, but also something else, more... musky. And
the scent made his head swim with arousal. His cock-head bumped against the ridges at the
base of her tail, giving him another idea. He reached for that, enjoying how Lilith, already
laving at her own cock with the thick tongue, shuddered as his hands ran along the long silky
surface to the spade-tip, then he put it in his mouth, and moved it back and forth like he was
sucking her off.

She groaned, body shifting against his chest, "M- Mather..."

But he wasn't done.

Instead, Harry let her go briefly to put a hand on each hard ass-cheek and hold her in place
while he stood, letting her come back to rest against his thighs. Then he pushed her tail
slowly, very slowly, into her pink little ass.

Lilith's violet eyes widened, and he saw a small geyser of her squirt jet into the air. He
lurched forward to catch it in his mouth, and got a few drops at least, before his hand left her
tail-tip buried in her rectum and he pushed his head down, beneath his legs. He grimaced in
pain, then bent his knees, and he was home once more.

It was strange and awkward, but erotic as hell, to be fucking down like this, but Lilith's cock
moved between her tits and lips in time with his dropping motions, and pulsed as he
withdrew, and soon both of them were gasping in mutual bliss.

He watched her dick swell again, grow longer, and he couldn't resist the urge to wrap both
hands around it and tug, jerking her off at the base while he bent down to continue his
thrusting movements. "Gods, you're hot, Lilith..."

"Mmfh fuu, Mfthr!"

"Swallow it, Pet," he murmured, "Swallow that massive cock... and take my dick, too!"

He didn't know how he'd done it, but Harry watched and felt as his penis grew purple, darker.
Sprouted, he could feel, almost scale-like bumps and ridges... and swelled in size, until it was
as large around as his forearm.

Lilith gasped, and he swayed with dizziness at the effort it had cost him...

But he moved faster, "Take it, slut! Take all my cum!"

It shouldn't have been possible, Harry knew.

He should have been more than drained after the first incredibly long orgasm he'd had inside
Romilda, much less the second, and the ones after. But this was even longer.
By the time he was finished, Lilith was gasping, and even though he knew, knew, she was
absorbing everything he was giving her, his seed still welled up past his own humongous
monster-dick until it showed, then dribbled down between her ass cheeks and belly.

It was still there when he sank back, withdrawn from her, against the log.

Slowly, Harry reached out a tentative hand, and lurched in surprise. Yes... he could definitely
feel the contact with both finger and dick.

"Shit..."

"Told you you'd get Morphology," Lilith giggled, face painted white and sticky with her own
release, "And so fast... I can't wait to have that thing in my ass, too! But you look tired,
Master. Shift back."

He blinked. "I... I don't know how."

He concentrated. She suggested focusing on his own, 'normal', cock. He tried that. Nothing.

In the end, she had only laughed and said, "Well, you're definitely the biggest in the school,
now. Hermione and Ginny will have a pleasant surprise tomorrow. We'll figure it out, though,
Master. For now, best take this slut to your room and tie her up in the dungeon. We'll make
sure she gets breakfast and a good dicking or three to keep her satisfied. Explanations can
wait until then."
 Lost Girls
Chapter Summary

Early post for the (U.S.) Holiday! Enjoy!

For those readers who've been loyally reading this for ages, you probably already know: I
have a DISCORD. You can find tidbits, maps, images, and more related to FwB, P:TaL, and
Z:PoW as well as all my Omake there. In addition there's a few other useful links you might
enjoy. If you want to learn more about my writing, go check it out at ht tp s : / / discord . gg /
EDHf6ZG . You might find fun stuff there. :)
That's enough out of me. Enjoy!

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it- new chapter SHOULD be out this
weekend, as usual- as long as I remember.

Chap. 32: Lost Girls

For quite some time, the only sound in the communal room in Harry's suite was the
scratching of quill on parchment or the rustling of pages as two young witches tried to focus
on getting schoolwork done without the distractions rampant throughout the school and
especially the Gryffindor Common Room.

It would surprise no one that students snogging wildly and in a few cases getting more than a
bit handsy despite the younger years being present and clearly watching made the things they
should be doing hard to focus on. That was why Hermione had given up on socializing while
studying and headed for the quieter place. Ginny had followed shortly after, but Hermione
was glad for the younger witch's company despite the occasional comment or question she
had.

It wasn't that Hermione didn't enjoy being asked academic questions. After all Ginny was just
as much a font of knowledge about the magical world as Ron.

Still, it was homework they had set out to do, and that was what most of the activity focused
on. At least until Ginny was caught up and Hermione was 'reading ahead'. The younger witch
still had a few lines left on her first Transfiguration assignment of the term when she asked,
"What do you think the boys are up to?"

Hermione's casual reply made Ginny grin, not just because of the content, but because of the
matter-of-fact way she gave it. "Probably balls-deep in a witch or two. If they were with Lyra,
they'd just be here, but she said she had something to do tonight."
"Mm, probably," Ginny agreed. She found it odd that she wasn't bothered by the knowledge,
but unlike her older brothers, she felt that it wasn't anyone else's but her own business whom
she shagged, so it wasn't her business whom they did, either. Ron was easy enough to
disregard. But Harry?

No, she decided, that didn't bother her either. She already knew he'd had sex with... how
many was it, the number he'd given her when he'd taken her virginity, made her his Pet?
Eight? More now, she was sure. She'd watched him with Hermione and the Succubus both
now, too, yet she was fine with that. No, she realized, I enjoyed that. Watching Harry's- no,
Master's- cock split open the succubus is great, and seeing him fill up Hermione is, too.
Gods, thinking about it is making me randy.

Ginny glanced over at Hermione, who was still reading cross-legged on the wider couch,
several textbooks and notebooks open in front of her. "Hermione, um... can I ask you
something personal?"

"I don't see why not," the older girl replied after a moment, looking up from her book for a
moment, "I mean, we've never really had much in the way of secrets from each other. At
least, not since I told you I fancied Harry, too."

"I was so mad," Ginny giggled, "but once I thought about it, I understood exactly what you
were saying. I mean, it's not like I can blame you for falling for him, you know? The same
qualities you like, I do too. Kinda curious what you see in Ron, though."

"Aside from his ten inches?"

"Obviously," Ginny giggled again.

"Well... he's good with that ten inches, I can tell you. Harry's probably a better lover as far as
skill goes, but Ron feels really good, because he goes so deep. It's a long stroke, you know?"

"That's my brother's cock you're fantasizing about," the younger said, though with a laugh
rather than heat or disgust.

"You asked," Hermione reminded her, looking back toward the book then shutting it and
setting it over the others on the table before her, "He's also funny, strangely kind, more
observant than he gives himself credit for. There's a lot of things to like about him."

"I guess," Ginny shrugged, "still... think the girl or girls they found are fit?"

"Probably. Not like they'd have to go far to find them. They could've just waited for us, but
somehow I don't think they'd go for the... well, let's say the Eloises of the world."

Ginny snorted, "I remember you defending her to Ron several times. She's nice and all, you
said."

"Well, yes, I did... but we all know she's not the best looking. It'd be a lie to say otherwise."

"I don't think even Finnegan would put his cock in her, and he's got to be the most desperate
bloke in your year," Ginny told her.
"I doubt that too," Hermione admitted, "but I still know a few girls who'd put out for him if
he had the stones to ask."

"Your roommates?"

"One or two, yes," the bookworm giggled, "not that I'd gossip about them or name names."

"I don't know," Ginny eventually replied, "I mean, I wouldn't right off, but I know Dean's
bigger than Neville. Not as wide, like Harry, but a lot longer. Would you shag him?"

Hermione hesitated before answering, "I suppose, if I was truly desperate. He's nice enough,
but we don't exactly have a lot in common, and there's more to life than sex. I'd probably, um,
blow him, though."

The flush in the older girl's face made Ginny grin. "Blow him, huh? Wait... you've thought
about it, huh?"

Hermione's blush deepened.

"Wait, did?"

"S- Sort of," she admitted after a moment. Over the next several minutes, Ginny coaxed the
story of what she and Harry had seen atop the false Astronomy Tower in the Room of
Requirement on the night he'd taken her virginity out of the older girl, details of the weird
Ginny-shaped construct included.

To cap it off, of course, the final little tidbit of what Hermione herself had done with the
smegma Dean had left behind, and what she'd said to Harry afterward.

"Gods, you're an oral slut," Ginny laughed again, "Personally, while I don't mind, I'd rather
just have the main course. The lead-up is good to start with, though. Still, if Harry's going
down on me, then I should do the same, right? It's only fair."

The brunette shrugged, still deeply flushed, "Er, I... well, to be honest, I sort of prefer- well,
no. Prefer's not the right word. I enjoy both equally."

"So... what, you don't care whether it's in your mouth or your pussy, you just like their
cocks?"

Hermione's flush deepened at the crude language, but she nodded. "S- Something like that,
yes."

But as fascinating as that was, there was something Ginny wanted to know even more, a
curiosity about the older girl's exploits created by her own deep-seated desires. "And, um...
what... what about girls? Have you ever thought about that?"

She did not expect Hermione to look away, then nod once, sharply.

"Wait, you have? Who? Tell me which girl's caught Hermione Granger's eye!"
"N- Not my eye," Hermione murmured, "I... I fancy blokes, sorry. I can see girls as pretty, but
I'm not attracted to them. At least, not without unfair Succubus cheating. But, um... well, to
be frank- since we're being honest- my genitals don't much care what gender a set of lips and
a mouth are, or hands. And, well... Lilith really does know what she's doing."

Ginny grinned, "So she ate you out? Did you return the favor?"

Again, Hermione nodded, "A- A couple of times."

"How was it?"

Hermione had a question of her own, though, asked with a suddenly suspicious tone, "Why
are you so curious?"

Suddenly it was Ginny's turn to blush and look away. "W- Well, I... I'm just curious, that's all.
I've never done that, so I was... wondering what it was like."

"Just like with a male, really," Hermione shrugged, "It's just... well, I... No, never mind."

"What? Come on, you can't just leave it like that," Ginny teased, "Now you're just being
mean."

"Tough. I'm not saying it, no matter how much you beg, so stop asking, please."

"What if I went down on you? Would you tell me then?"

"No!"

Ginny waited a few seconds, then raised an eyebrow. "Fine, fine. But I'm randy now, so I'm
going to go work out my frustrations. If you want you can join me. Or stay here and study."

She stood up and made her way to the room Harry had dubbed the dungeon, leaving the door
wide open as she passed out of sight. The girl didn't head immediately for the bed, or the
couch Harry had conjured, at least not at once. Instead, she looked about at the various
accoutrements, from the swing to the saw-horse, the X-shaped rack against the far wall,
eventually turning her light brown eyes to the organized racks on the wall behind the bed's
low headboard. Okay, so there's some whip-things, some feathers, strings, those things Harry
described as a dildo... that one looks kind of like his dick. Why's it purple? I wonder how it
feels?

With a small shrug she reached up to pull it off the wall, the sticking charm fading with her
touch. "Huh, it's heavier than I thought it'd be," she murmured, then turned the foot-long
phallus in her hand to examine it in detail. It really does look like Harry's, but there's a few
differences. I bet it'd feel pretty good, though...

Once she had returned to the bed, Ginny glanced just once at the open doorway before
pushing her skirt and knickers down her legs and lifting her t-shirt over her head, throwing it
onto the wooden floor with her other clothes. She rolled it in her hands once more, then
brought it to her mouth, laving around it a few times for lubrication as she slowly spread her
pale legs.
The tip wet, Ginny quickly brought it down to her entrance and pushed gently in so the
bulbous head was inside her body. "Oh... okay... yeah, that's pretty nice," she decided at a
whisper, then twirled it there to let her body lubricate it even more before pushing it another
two inches inside. "Ooooh... M- Merlin...." Her body fell back onto one elbow but she kept
her eyes locked on her pale folds as the purple object continued to disappear slowly into her.
Eventually, she felt the tip brushing up against the end of her channel. Still... still three more
inches to go. Shit... She slowly began to work it back and forth, twisting occasionally, then
lay back fully so she could use that hand to run circles over her clit.

She jumped some time later when the bed next to her creaked and shifted. "H- Hermione?"

"You've been moaning for twenty minutes," the older girl huffed, though she did so while
lifting a knee to show her own knickers were absent beneath her skirt, and fluid was running
freely down her legs.

Ginny gasped. She'd seen Hermione nude several times, of course, and always admired the
sight, but this was different. There were no clothes to take off or put on, no showers, no other
people to distract them... and there was a definite sexual tone, since the older witch also put a
hand against her flesh and started working it while she stared down at the girl next to her.

That knowledge drove Ginny wild. She had already orgasmed a few times with the dildo, but
watching her second-longest crush actively masturbate while watching her was beyond
anything she had expected. Even propositioning the other girl for information was something
Ginny knew she'd be turned down for. But simply leaving the door open while getting herself
off was...

Amazing? Brilliant? All of the above? Shit... c- cumming... cumming so... fucking... hard!

She did, squirting fluid about three feet past her knees, her body writhing uncontrollably
while she peaked.

After the orgasmic high had begun to fade, Ginny could only lay there and watch as
Hermione, too, worked herself into a more low-key frenzy, their eyes occasionally meeting
only to quickly flit away.

Then she saw Ron standing gob-smacked in the still-open door. The girl suddenly found
herself very aware that she was still half-lying on the bed with a giant dildo hanging out of
her while her best friend, said brother's girlfriend, diddled her clit next to her.

But she did not move to hide herself. Instead, she enjoyed the fresh wave of heat spreading
throughout her body as he watched Hermione... watched them both. Slowly, gently, her hands
returned to motion themselves, teasing and soft to give her abused body a chance to relax in a
more sedate way.

He's watching me... Ron's watching me and Hermione get ourselves off. Such a perverted
brother I have...

Ginny climaxed again soon after Hermione did and pulled the dildo from her cunt. Still
pretending to not notice her brother, she brought it to her mouth and licked it a few times
before holding it up for Hermione. The other girl stared at the purple plastic, then opened her
mouth. The red-head pushed it inside a few inches until Hermione closed her lips and one
hand around it herself. Then she sat up and smiled at her friend. "Tastes good, yeah?"

"Mm, hmm," Hermione moaned around the dildo, her hand moving in a blur on her own
cunt. Ginny was satisfied for now, though, so she bent to gather her clothes quickly, not
bothering to dress. Instead, she carried them in her arms as she passed Ron without a word. A
single glance told Ginny that he was watching her closely as she passed.

From the common area, now empty, she heard Hermione ask, "R- Ron! How- how long were
you there?"

"Long enough to get randy. Damn, Hermione..."

"You- you aren't, um... bothered by...?"

"Are you willing to get me off?"

It was certainly not how Ginny would've asked, but Hermione's response was, "Yes, God
yes!"

The last words she heard before she entered Harry's bedroom and shut the door were, "Then
no, I'm not mad."

Hermione was not as upset as he'd thought when Harry, exhausted, returned to the quarters
he'd been assigned, if only because it looked like she and Ron had been having a tremendous
bout of sex, leaving the two naked on one of the bedspreads in Hermione's favorite room,
while Ginny lay nude over his own bed, her genitals still red and swollen from her own self-
pleasure.

Harry grinned as he lifted Romilda, clothes tattered and torn and still dripping from three
holes with semen- Lilith had only cleaned the exterior, claiming the girl needed all she could
get- and tied her the same way Lilith had with Neville to the again-clean bed, then brought
out a blanket and covered her for warmth.

When he returned to his own room, aside from Ginny, there was another strange red-haired
woman in his room. She was familiar somehow, but Harry could not place her right away. He
could sense no danger, though, as the woman only watched Ginny sleep for a few seconds as
he shut the door. Rather, he felt a sense of safety and peace, an increasingly familiar one.
"Lilith?"

The woman nodded. Yet, despite being a Succubus, she was wearing a night-shirt of
conservative nature. "Master," she whispered as he stepped into the dark room, still able to
see just fine somehow, "Come lay down with me. I feel like you'll need this."

He frowned. He knew that body, that voice, that face. "M- Mum?"
Lilith nodded, "I have seen her in your dreams, Master. I know her as well as you do-
probably better. Come. I'll help you with any nightmares."

"I... I'm not..."

"Sleep."

He nodded, then reluctantly climbed beneath the covers after undressing.

Lilith, to her word, didn't make any untoward advances in the guise of Lily Potter. Instead,
she only wrapped one hand around his chest and pulled him against her bosom. "Sleep, my
son... Rest well. Worry not about the future, for I will protect you. Go to sleep... go to sleep...
go to sleep little Harry..."

And he was out.

As had become the norm since Summoning Lilith to him, Harry woke up feeling a mounting
pleasure in his loins.

He knew, right away, that it was not the Succubus doing the deed, however, for his
connection with the creature told the wizard that she was some fifty feet or so away, across
the borrowed staff quarters, in the Dungeon.

A tongue swirled around his head expertly, the rough upper side crossing the broad tip of his
penis, making him shudder. She's above me, then... Smiling, the young man left his eyes
closed and opened his senses and attention. The scent of cedar, of wood smoke, of grass, and
broom-oil filled his nostrils, and Harry inhaled deeply as he recognized the source."Good
morning, Ginny."

The warm lips left his cock momentarily, just long enough for a throaty, "Hello, Harry- it is a
good morning, isn't it," before swirling around him again.

"Every morning with you is," he whispered, then let his tongue slip out from between his lips.
As expected, there was heat and warmth and soft liquidy skin just above him, well within
reach. A few hairs, too, from Ginny's sparse lower snatch tickled him, but Harry had never
particularly cared. Instead, he revelled in the faint bumps over the youngest Weasley's
otherwise smooth mons, and how the flavor, that of apple pie with a hint of cinnamon,
washed over his tongue, poured through his body even as his own pleasure mounted, sending
a strange but delightful course of energy through him. It flowed from his tongue down into
his mouth, his head, and down his neck and throat, until all of Harry was left tingling and
ecstatic.

Only then, after it had passed through him completely, leaving Harry eager for more, did the
wizard open his eyes to the dim light in his room, lit by the pre-dawn through the curtains
and a low-banked fire on the far side of the room. Directly over his face, of course, was the
cleft between Ginny's legs, swollen with arousal and need, literally flowing with evidence of
her own desire, which he could feel thrumming through her taut body as it began to move
back and forth with her mouth as it slid along his girth. "That feels so good, Gin..."
Her hands were already moving along the base of his shaft and scrotum, but her pumps
increased in speed, slick with saliva and his own pre-ejaculate, as Ginny pulled her head
away again. "Come, Harry... I want you to come in my mouth. It's been a while since I've
tasted you."

He was close, and Harry knew it, but he wasn't quite ready yet. He wanted more. "Keep
sucking, Pet. Suck more, harder... and today, when he asks, I want you to suck off Neville in
front of Hannah. Okay?"

Her lips had been back on him when he started talking, and she slowed just a little as he
spoke to make it clear she was attentive. At his final question, she swallowed around his
head, throwing her mouth further down his shaft so that for the first time the tip of his
massive head peaked past her tonsils into the girl's throat.

And Harry came.

Ginny felt the first jet hit the back of her throat, just after she'd finally controlled her gag
reflex enough to get him past the end of her mouth. She coughed at once, her whole body
seizing, and reflexively pulled away. The next jet hit before she was off his stalk, and half-
filled the small girl's mouth. Then she found her control, and stopped with her lips tightening
around his head again, scrunching her eyes shut with the willpower necessary to hold herself
there, to ride out her Master's orgasm, to swallow it all.

She counted forty-seven full gulps before she could take a breath again, and another seven
before her mouth was clear enough to breathe after pulling away.

Harry? He only grinned, chin and nose and cheeks drenched in the taste of apple pie as his
pet had climaxed into his mouth, but sprayed far beyond what he could contain as well.
"Fucking great, Pet," he told her, relaxing back into the hot bedsheets, "You're getting so
good at that. Merlin..."

With his eyes closed, he felt more than saw as Ginny sat upright, knee-walked down his
body, then sank onto his still-hard member with a loud moan of pleasure, then shifted her feet
so she could lay herself back against his chest.

Smiling, Harry started pumping up and into her at once, lifting a hand to hold her petite
breasts, still larger than Lilith's normal ones, and cup her vulva too, fingers slipping around
his own penis as he moved. "What brought this on?"

"Randy," she murmured, throwing a hand back to twist in his hair, the other laying limply
over his at her groin, "woke up randy as hell, Ha- Master. Heard... noises, thought you were
with- with Hermione... gods, Ron was eating her... she came so hard! And I... sorry I woke
you, Master, I- I- I'm coming again!"

Harry slowed to let her control the movement while Ginny climaxed, then sped up once more
as it passed a couple of minutes later. "Did you like watching him? Was he wanking?"

"Watched- watched her. Last night I- I used the purple dildo. I forgot how to turn it on, but
my hands worked, and... and Hermione rubbed one off to me, and then Ron watched and...
and... Gods, Harry, don't stop... an- another... Circe, I love your cock so much! I'll do
anything you want, suck Neville, fuck Neville..."

"You'll do that too, again," Harry murmured softly as he licked the shell of her ear, finding it
slick with sweat already, "also in front of Hannah, while I fill her juicy pussy and jizz on her
tits. You want to see that, don't you, Pet?"

This time, even though they'd both climaxed recently, when she did so for the third time,
Harry joined her, and for the moment, they could only lie there breathless and heaving when
Lilith came in to quickly and efficiently clean them both before leaving for the Dungeon once
more, shutting only that door behind them.

A few moments later, Ginny rolled against Harry and pressed a quite chaste kiss against his
cheek. "I... it always surprises me how good it feels after, too. Lilith almost made me go
again."

Harry grinned, "I know what you mean. That first night..."

"Tell me about it?"

"Some other time," Harry laughed, pulling her against him, though both were hot and sweaty,
and kissing the top of the girl's fiery hair. "We have a busy day ahead, remember? It's busy
for all of us, but the last day of the week. Fun tomorrow."

"Poo," Ginny muttered, borrowing a phrase from her friend, Luna.

A few minutes later, a boxers-clad Ron, with mussed hair, knocked on the doorframe. Harry
watched as his brown eyes, just visible in the gloom, roved over his sister's nude, pale body
for a moment. "Hermione's in the shower, and Lilith has the Dungeon locked for some
reason. I... well, I'm gonna head up to the dorms, make an appearance. Breakfast should be
soon, yeah?"

"Mm. Yeah, we'll be up in a bit. See you, mate."

Then Ron left, and if Harry wasn't mistaken, he cast yet another glance over his sister, and
might have adjusted his boxers as he walked away.

Harry grinned.

Ginny, drowsy and eyes closed, saw none of it, barely heard her brother, but Harry rose after
a few minutes and urged her into the shower in his room, where they had another quick romp,
hard and fast, before heading down to breakfast. Hermione, it seemed, had already gone in
search of Ron.

That was when Harry remembered he had been different when he went to bed that night. His
last alterations before he and Lyra had brought Romilda inside had made his cock huge,
purple-ish, and pulsating, knobbed, almost like Lilith’s true one. Now he was… himself
again. “Lils? Uh… Not complaining, but my dick is back to normal. Did you do that?”
Her answer was short and to the point, “No, Master, you did. It’s likely that while you
dreamed your body just reset itself to its new normal. It happens when you’re just starting out
with Body Morphology. If you get good at it, keep practicing, it’ll learn to hold shapes even
when you’re asleep. That’s why I wasn’t too worried last night, though.”

“Oh. Okay, I guess… see you at Breakfast?”

“Of course, Master.”

All was not well when the young couple arrived at the breakfast table, however.

There were hurried whispers throughout the hall, and several people shot them furtive,
curious looks as Ginny entered first, holding Harry's hand comfortably. At the staff table, too,
many of the Professors and others responsible for the students, like Madame Pomfrey, were
speaking in hurried, hushed tones, sending many worried glances down toward the student
body.

"What's going on?" he asked, urging Ginny to stop and sit with him next to Lavender Brown,
with Parvati Patil opposite the other girl.

"Two girls went missing," Parvati leaned in quietly, "they announced it a few minutes ago,
said there'll be another announcement in a bit, but they wanted to get the word out, ask if
anyone had seen anything. Overnight, from what I heard."

Harry's blood froze. Two girls, missing? What if it had been Hermione, or Ginny, or any of
the other girls he'd grown to care for? Even those whom he hadn't, who'd just been a romp, or
not even that... they still, presumably, mattered to someone. "Who? Names."

Lavender shrugged, "We aren't sure, and they aren't saying. There's not enough students
down here for us to have catalogued, and we don't know everyone."

A few seconds later, while Harry and Ginny had done little besides share a worried glance
between themselves and then up the table to find Hermione sitting with Neville, whose legs
were strangely spread and... "Lilith? Know anything about missing girls...?"

The thought back was immediate, and it, too, made Harry pale. "One is probably in our
Dungeon, Master. I couldn't take her back to the dormitory. If she stayed like that, she'd have
raped every girl there, and spread her legs for every single male that passed after that. In a
few days, when things calm... you'd best keep it secret until then."

"Okay, but that's one. The other...?"

"No idea, Master- I was fucking your flesh-toy for most of the night. She's dehydrated, but
recovering. She'll be well-trained and talented if and when she recovers, and if she doesn't,
well... that much better for your needs."

Harry swallowed as he lifted his eyes to Ginny, glad for some strange reason that she couldn't
be in his head like Lilith was, even though she was clearly his Pet in a similar way. That
was... at least, to him, an exceedingly cruel, heartless, even selfish way of thinking about the
girl that had been- hopefully would be again- Romilda Vane. She's not human, he had to
remind himself yet again, and she doesn't think like we do. Damn it...

He glanced up from idly picking at his food when a harried Professor Flitwick entered the
Great Hall from the staff door and moved over to Professor Dumbledore, who leaned down to
listen as the part-goblin Charms teacher spoke hurriedly, then moved to his own seat, looking
shattered.

"Shit... One girl's a Ravenclaw, I bet. The other Heads are already here," Harry said quietly,
knowing full well the two gossips could hear as well, "Look at Flitwick's face."

"I wonder about the other girl," Lavender mused, looking frightened, "Why two? Who
would- who could- have taken them? You heard Dumbledore on Monday, security's been
tightened a lot. It'd be really hard to get in or out, especially with a victim or..."

"Which means they might be here," Parvati whispered, dark eyes widening in terror herself as
her eyes sought out her sister, followed quickly by Harry, who didn't have to turn to follow
her gaze.

Padma, fortunately, was still there, looking just as scared, but wearing the tie of silver and
blue. "Thank Merlin," Harry whispered alongside the twin, "we need to find out who...
where. How. All of that. You two, grab your D.A. coins. Spread the word. First meeting's
tonight, right after dinner. Short, so those in N.E.W.T. Astronomy can still make it. Just half
an hour or so, still in the Room. Bring friends you trust that might not have joined last year."

Suddenly, Harry's day felt a whole lot busier.

"Alright, you lot, settle down!" Ron's voice boomed over the chamber, amplified by a quick
charm cast by Hermione, "We're ready to get started! No, seriously, settle down!"

Harry wondered, privately, why he'd even thought about asking for the help of the other
students in solving this mystery. Hadn't they always done their best work, done the most
good, when it was just a few of them- namely, he, Ron, and mostly Hermione- working
together? Even adding Ginny, Lilith, and Neville seemed like an unnecessary addition
sometimes. Yet asked them he had, and now the entirety of Dumbledore's Army, plus a new
hundred or so members from the third year and up in a mixture of all four Houses, packed the
Room of Requirement to capacity. He'd tried to make it bigger but the walls themselves had
begun to quaver and shake even just an inch past where they had expanded to, the magic that
gave the room its form becoming unstable at best.

He, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Lyra, and Neville (looking a bit nervous) now stood atop the
raised speaking dais on one end of the room, Ron to his left with Lyra and Neville, and Ginny
and Hermione on his right, while Harry himself stood at a small lectern, simple in form
almost like an old-fashioned musician's music stand. Some of the crowd, thankfully, had
quieted their excited or hushed whispers at Ron's shout, but several, mostly those who hadn't
been in the D.A. the previous year, still carried on one conversation or another.
"Lilith... what power's best to get their attention? All of them? In a... well, a non-sexual way I
suppose. Or should I just start and hope they shut up?"

The answer took a few seconds, Lyra sending him a surprised blink and a faint smile before
she did, "That's up to you, Master. Anything flashy would get their attention, of course, and
you could probably use a variety of my Tier One powers now, if you tried. But I'd wager that
a 'hem, hem' would do it. Ginny's an excellent mimic."

"So are you."

"But Lyra never met Umbridge, remember?"

"Ah... there is that, yes. Sorry."

A moment later, Ginny leaned in after he stood tall once again and performed admirably.
Most of the students fell quiet at once, several of them looking around in horror, leaving Ron
snickering and Harry himself highly amused. "Thank you," he said after things had quieted
down, the 'microphone' enchantment, likely a well-placed, rune-carved Sonorus spell on the
lectern, making Harry's voice magnify two or three times over as well. "I'm glad you all
came, especially on such short notice, but I'd like to get out of here quickly- many of us have
homework to get to. For those old D.A. hands, I'm sorry to say, this isn't a regular meeting."

He paused while many of the students groaned in disappointment, and a wave of grumbles
filtered through the crowd. "However... we do have some plans to continue the D.A. in the
future, later this year. Nothing for certain yet as far as time goes, but likely at least a few
months before end-of-year exams. Maybe mid-year, after the Yule Hols if things work out
alright. Hope that helps. Now... on to the meat of the matter. I know Dumbledore's already
mentioned this, but... I'm sure everyone here has heard about the two missing girls."

Any muttering or murmuring left fell silent at once, and all eyes turned to him. Once, Harry
might have found a hundred or more people staring raptly at him, hanging on every word
most uncomfortable, even disconcerting. Even now, he had to acknowledge that he didn't like
it, but the confidence that had followed his activities of late had changed Harry in subtle
ways he had not expected, and he found the task of maintaining his calm easier than it had
been at the end of the previous year, when he'd held a meeting to help the students and
survivors cope with the loss they had suffered at the Ministry, rescuing him.

Still, he took a long, slow breath, letting it out only fractionally, then continued, "One of them
was in Gryffindor, a fourth-year named Romilda Vane."

Next to him, Ron shifted a bit uncomfortably, but Lyra made no motion at all aside from
continuing to scan the crowd with her vaguely cheerful smile. If anyone else thought it
strange that the new girl had insinuated herself so thoroughly into Harry's inner circle over
the summer, no one brought it up or gave her a second glance now.

"The other, a Ravenclaw named Mandy Brocklehurst, a sixth-year. Both went missing last
night, apparently at different times. One didn't show up for dinner, one never returned to her
dormitory afterward. That's all anyone seems to know. Neither the portraits nor the House-
Elves, as far as we can tell, know anything. Nor do the Professors, or the girls would likely
have been found. Does anyone have any information- not rumors- that contradicts this? If
you do, raise your hand, please."

Harry waited, eyes scanning. A few people began to raise hands, then brought them down.
Most, though, merely looked around the room. Hermione, to his left, whispered a few names
to herself as the hands were partially lifted, and he nodded- all according to plan. People to
question later. "No one has heard or knows anything else that can be confirmed as more than
hearsay? Alright- we'll go from there, then. I've called you here first to ask that. Second... to
remind you to keep safe. Keep your eyes and ears open. We don't know if either girl ran way,
or was attacked, or whatever. All we know is they're missing. But we do know that there are
Death Eaters active once more, and Voldemort-" he waited while many in the group flinched
or even yelped- "is out and about, too. Be cautious, be careful, be safe. Travel in groups.
Trust your fellow students. I hope that any of us, regardless of House, would help another
student being attacked, not do the attacking. Yes, that means if you see a Slytherin being
attacked, you help them. I expect the Slytherins to do the same."

"Hear, hear," a confident-sounding boy from the back of the small knot of green-clad
teenagers shouted, one who couldn't have been older than fifteen at most.

"And keep your eyes open for clues. I'm not saying put yourselves in danger, but if you see
something, report it. To the Professors, or Aurors, the DMLE- anyone. Even us. We'll see the
information gets to where it needs to go, and help keep you safe in the process. Anything at
all- no matter how small- can be important. A sign that someone got in or out of the school
undetected, maybe. A conversation you might've heard about plans to run away. Trouble at
home. Anything. I don't just mean about Mandy Brocklehurst or Romilda Vane, either. If you
see or hear of something concerning about any student, or strange goings-on in Hogwarts-
stranger than normal, anyway- speak up. You never know how much good you might do.
Thank you, that's all I had for the night."

Harry tapped his wand on the lectern and stepped back, withdrawing from the dais
completely, his close friends following behind.

There had been plans to study. To fornicate after.

Now...

It seemed they had another mystery to solve.

But first...

Ginny and Hermione both stopped cold as Harry and Ron flanked the door to the Dungeon,
Lyra moving smoothly ahead of them, her clothes swiftly diminishing until she was clad in
faux lingerie of black and red silk, lithe form catching more than two sets of eyes as she
crossed the dimly-lit room to where Romilda Vane was strapped, chest down, atop the
sawhorse on the right side of the room, opposite the mattress.

"Harry," Hermione asked calmly, though his sensitive ears still heard the tremor in her voice
as she took just two steps into the room and stopped, fingering the vinewood in her hand,
"Why's one of the missing girls tied up in your chamber, with a... a... dildo moving in and out
of her?"

"I can explain," Harry began to speak, but it was Lyra, who had circled around the bound and
nude, barely-aware girl to look more closely at the hot pink phallus, as large as Lyra's natural
dick, slipping in and out of the very stretched hole.

"I will, Master. In short: it was a mistake. Master did not know what he was doing, and
activated a power by accident. This... is the unfortunate result. She will likely recover,
mostly. Until then, I'm going to keep her well-satiated and well-cared-for. When she does
recover, we'll let her go with a most strange dream and likely a few missing memories."

"Thank you, Lyra," Hermione said woodenly, watching as Ginny, mouth and eyes both
opened wide in amazement, stepped past her to stand beside the sawhorse and run one hand
lightly down the arch of Romilda's bare back, eyes looking over her trembling body as it
reached another crescendo of pleasure. "I asked Harry, though."

"That's it, in essence," he murmured, coming in past Ron to lean against the door and running
a hand over his stubbly chin, "We screwed up. I... you were busy, all of you, so we went
looking, and... found her. She was eager, happy to, ah, help..."

"So you fucked another girl. Get to the point," the older witch almost growled, eyes still
locked on the former fan-girl.

"Well..." he explained, as best he could, the situation as Lilith had told he and Ron the
previous night, and finished with, "It was an accident, Hermione. You know I wouldn't...
wouldn't do something like that on purpose. It..."

"Wouldn't you? You are different these days, Harry," she whispered, "In several ways. Not all
of them are... well, the best. I love you, you know I do. I love you dearly. But this... it's not
right, and it's going to be... hard."

"I know," he murmured.

Ron shook his head as he stepped past Hermione, shutting the door, "I haven't heard some of
that, myself. So you're saying... she's like, a toy almost? Literally living just to shag?"

"For now," Lyra corrected, "but essentially, yes. The bad news is, we'll have to keep her here
for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. After that, I think she'll be fine... ish. She's already
recovering... aren't you, Romilda? Scream your Master's name."

It was instantaneous, a cry of, "Harron," at full volume, loud enough to make Ginny wince
and cover her ears.

"See? She's got you two conflated," Lyra smiled, giving the younger girl's ass a pat, "but she
knows names. It's good progress, believe it or not."

"A... a shag-toy?" Ginny murmured, eyes widening further still, "Like... how?"
Lyra shrugged, "Well... you tell me. She's up for pleasure. Anyone, anything, anytime. A
troll, even, though that'd probably kill her. The lust will never go away. But sooner or later,
and I think relatively sooner, she'll remember who else she is, besides a lump of meat good
for only giving and receiving pleasure. She's lost in a fugue-like state of lust. Once she comes
out of it, she'll be similar to a nymphomaniac in the true sense of the term, but will otherwise
be able to live a normal life. She could even be quite wealthy, if we give her certain runes,
earned on her own."

"Earned on her back, you mean," Hermione interjected darkly.

"Yes, exactly," Lyra said, "You're getting it."

Only the Succubus had no sense of anything negative about that phrase.

Harry sighed, "Look, I'm sorry- we're sorry. Neither of us meant for this to happen, but it has.
What do we do going forward? Is it too much? Is..."

"Before you finish that statement, Harry James Potter," Hermione, still a few paces ahead and
on his left, facing Romilda, held up a forewarning hand and finger, "I said I love you. I do.
That hasn't changed. But this does change things. We'll have to keep her secret, clearly, so no
bringing people here that don't already know. Or..."

"She'll be invisible most of the time," Lilith shrugged, "in fact, she already is- if anyone
besides us is in the quarters, she will become invisible while other people are here. I put those
runes on last night. Master or I can make her visible for others later, if we wish, but it can't be
undone, so we should be careful about doing that. I will take care of feeding, hydrating, and
other bodily needs. Keep her clean, mostly. Her squirt is tasty, so there's that, too. All you
four need to do is keep her secret for now, and use her for fun if you wish. I'll be capable of
keeping her satisfied, but more could help her recover faster."

Hermione's face, already very pale, suddenly took on a greenish cast. "You mean... r- rape
her? She's helpless, practically catatonic!"

"Catatonic with pleasure," Lyra murmured, giving Hermione a hard look, "and believe me,
she wants it. All she can get. The more pleasure she experiences, the sooner the rest of her
mind will learn to cope with her new reality. And, of course, it'll feel good. As long as she's
kept healthy, there is literally no outcome here that is bad for her."

"Aside from gaining a mental illness, you mean?"

Lyra shook her head, "No, it's like nymphomania. It isn't the same, not really. Imagine... how
you feel with Ron and Harry are with you. Add in me. Then Ginny. All of us, together. That
excitement, that fierce, animalistic joy? Multiply that about thirty-fold. She's that happy most
of the time. Would you say no, if you could keep it up for a long time? Keep going, through
any exhaustion, unable to feel pain from it, just endless pleasure? The symptoms are the
same, but to her, it is a perfectly rational, reasonable way to exist. For now. When more of
her is present, she'll still very much enjoy it, only more like you, or Ginny would. When she's
almost recovered, even then she'll practically be begging for sex, all the time. Only when
she's as normal as she will ever be again can she control that urge to keep from seeking it out-
saving it for when it's appropriate."

"I still think... this is kind of ridiculous," Hermione protested, "I mean, accidental or not, this
was a girl's mind. Her whole life!"

"I know," Harry and Ron both groaned at once.

But Lyra shook her head, "Honestly, Hermione? If I, and they, didn't love and respect you so
much I'd say spend an hour in her shoes before you knock it. But I'll let you draw your own
conclusions, even if I feel they're misinformed."

"I think she's sexy," Ginny murmured, lifting a hand as she spoke for the first time in several
minutes to fondle Romilda's breast on the other side of the sawhorse, out of Harry's view.
"And believe me, I've seen her in our showers. This is... something she'd have fantasized
about. She was pretty vocal about what she'd do to Harry if she had him with love potions,
you know? It's even... fitting. This."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head, "Alright, alright, I can see I'm outvoted, but I still don't
like it."

"I don't, either," Ron muttered, "but it is done. Tell McGonagall or Dumbledore if you want
to, Hermione. We understand, and I don't think we'd blame you."

"I'm not going to do that," she whispered, moving over to the conjured couch they'd all-but
had an orgy on a couple days before and leaning against it, "it's just an... adjustment. Is this
what happened to the other girl? Mandy?"

Harry shook his head, "Not to my knowledge, unless there's another Succubus in Hogwarts."

Lyra shook her head, "I'd know. We can sense when another is close. I never met the one at
Sirius' place, but they surely knew I was nearby, that's why I never hunted in their territory, or
even near it."

"Alright, well... fine. I'm going to bed."

"Er..."

The girl shook her head, "I'm sorry, Ron, I... not tonight. Tonight, I need Harry."

He swallowed, "Er... that's fine with me, but... aren't you...?"

"Angry? Of course I am," the girl whispered, turning to him with tears running down her
face, "but I know it wasn't your fault. I just want... you know what? No. Yes, Ron, I want
you, too. I just want... to be held. To be told it'll be okay."

Ginny lifted one eyebrow, "So go. I'm fine tonight."

A few minutes later, clad in boxers, Harry knocked on the door Hermione had claimed that
night, the one Pansy had stayed in previously, then opened it.
Ron, shirtless, likely dressed as he was, was leaning against the headboard beneath the
covers, while Hermione was nude, pulling her hair up into a loose ponytail behind her neck
sitting on the edge of the bed, which Harry felt did amazing things for her breasts, lifting and
separating them as well as giving more definition to the definite tone of her stomach. "When
did you start working out, Hermione?"

She, still red-eyed but no longer crying, put her hands down and folded them in her lap, "At
the beginning of summer. I figured... I should be fit. For, you know... to... to hold your
interest. Both of you."

Harry smiled, stepping a bit more confidently into the space he definitely thought of as
'theirs' and not 'his', trying not to notice that the head of his penis was already sticking out of
the boxers through the gap though he wasn't even truly aroused, and bent to kiss the girl on
her forehead, then down lower on the lips. "It's sweet," he whispered afterward, lips still
against hers, "but I, for one, love you anyway. I appreciate the effort, though."

"Me, too," Ron added, "even if now the Runes will make it kind of a waste. Seeing you
running around the Burrow in the morning was fun, though. Fun enough even to get up and
join you."

Harry snorted, and followed Hermione as she rolled back onto the bed and climbed into the
center, then held the covers on the other side for Harry to slide in, which he did so after
waving toward the lights, "Dim."

Once beneath the blankets, though, none of them moved.

There was no giggling, no quiet sighs or moans of pleasure.

Instead, all three lay, nude or nearly so, beneath the satin sheets in the darkness, staring at the
top of the curtained four-poster, until, maybe an hour later, Hermione whispered, "I keep
thinking about what it'd be like... stuck like that. Only able to... to do one thing, over and
over. No matter how good it feels... it's all I can think about right now."

Beside her, both boys gave a grunt.

Slowly, eventually, each drifted away into dreams.

As always, some were pleasant. Some less-so.

But once more, there were no nightmares for Harry Potter.

Elsewhere in the quarters, while the trio lay sleepless, Ginny Weasley was getting a lesson in
pleasuring a woman, using both Lyra's body with Lilith's education, and the eager, willing
object lesson, still draped over the very drenched sawhorse.

Lilith, as Lyra, grinned as she felt her Master finally begin to drift into unconsciousness, and
opened the channels of their bond, from her senses into his subconscious, until the sleeping
young man could not tell where he ended and his Pet began.
The whole while, the lesson continued.

"Anyway, that's about all you need to know to be getting on with. You've started from a good
position already, and with this, you'll be able to make any woman climax hard and often,
including yourself."

"Still," Ginny murmured, two fingers of her left hand buried in her twat, while her right hand
twisted a round-studded metal rod in Romilda's gaping, far-stretched anus, Lyra standing
beside her with an arm in the other teen's sodden cunt up to the elbow, "It feels like cheating.
She orgasms so easily..."

Lyra grinned, "Not all that different, it just takes longer on most people. You made me squirt,
twice. You have the talent, I promise. I'd say you're about as good at cunnilingus as Master
is... and as good as Hermione is at fellatio."

Ginny, who in recent months had gained about the same vocabulary as Harry and Ron,
grinned, looking over at her mentor, "Really?"

Lyra grinned. "Yep. Now... I'm going to show you one other trick. Leave the dildo there, but
back up a bit, love."

Ginny did as she was told, moving the other hand to her own reddened tits, then stepping to
the side and returning to give Romilda's slightly smaller, pale and freckled breasts another
grope.

Then she gasped as Lyra disappeared, the body morphing quickly into a hulking male form,
seven feet tall if Ginny wasn't wrong, for she only came up to the very muscular, bald
person's navel, with a swinging dick that hung down to his knees.

"Holy mother of Merlin..."

Lilith grinned, sending a violet-eyed wink and muscle rippling as she stepped around
Romilda to position herself at the girl's mouth. Even elevated, the taller body was at the
perfect height, and Ginny gasped when the insensate girl realized what was in front of her.

Even bound, Romilda immediately began to claw and squirm her way forward, lips wide but
eagerly seeking out the tanned, oiled flesh. "This," Lilith said as she put a hand on her base
and lifted the length to slap the other girl over both cheeks softly, "is the second to last trick
I'll show you tonight. I can turn into almost anything humanoid... or nearly so. Master knows
I can do this, but I haven't done it in front of him. Not like this, anyway. But the best part..."

Lilith backed up, then lifted the long shaft, which formed a heavy downward crescent, until
the tip was before Romilda's face. The tongue came out and started lapping at just the hole
and tip, which Ginny could see was nearly a half-inch long, and even delved inside once,
making Lilith sigh in a deep, throaty, masculine voice. "That's good... keep it going, slut. Get
ready to swallow it."

Soon, the limp flesh, nearly two feet long, had swollen to the length of three feet, forcing
Lilith to step back before she could prod her gargantuan head, as big as Ginny's clenched fist,
into Romilda's eager mouth. Dimly, the red-head heard the splatter of juices hit the floor and
sawhorse below Romilda's cunt, but she was locked firmly on how the girl's cheeks bulged,
and how overjoyed the male Lilith looked with sheer pleasure as their new toy did her best to
take more.

Unfortunately, it seemed Romilda was only human, and couldn't take more than the head at
all, no matter how much Lilith tried to force in. She choked again and again, the Succubus
growing more frustrated by the attempt, until she grimaced and yanked her still throbbing,
pulsing member out and slapped Romilda's head hard enough to make Ginny wince, "Stupid
slut, can't even swallow a giant cock. Useless... I guess you really are only good for one
hole."

Far from disgusted by the casual disregard for what Romilda might still be feeling in there
somewhere, Ginny continued to watch, entranced, as Lilith moved around her, letting the tip
of that hot log graze her buttocks and the small of her back, then came up behind Romilda.

There was no foreplay. Instead, Lilith just pushed in, hard and far, until an entire foot was
within her, then sighed. "Ah, that's better..."

And she didn't hesitate, afterward, in pumping furiously, using the lump of meat like Romilda
was meant for the sole purpose of her own gratification, ignoring the lessons they'd just had
about how to create untold heights of pleasure in another woman.

And watching it made Ginny so very fucking randy.

She'd already been finger-fucking herself for more than an hour, had climaxed six times, but
now, even without Lilith's runes to enhance her stamina... she wanted more.

As the cock, larger around than even her upper arms, stretched and pulled and yanked at the
tender, well-worn flesh of Romilda Vane's nethers, Ginny felt a fresh trickle of lubricant run
down both of her legs, further adding to the puddle, the literal puddle, on the floor. Then
Lilith, grunting, hunched over the pleasure-slave's body and climaxed what seemed like a
geyser of pearly white, which ran down both the massive man-body's legs, the sawhorse, and
pooled on its way around Romilda's legs before joining Ginny's puddle on the floor.

Ginny's mind was fuzzy already, and the sight, the scent...

She went mad, and felt it happen. Revelled in it, as she leaned in once more to suck, closing
her lips around the cunt as Lilith had done and inhaling huge globules of Succubus semen
into her stomach from the gaping vagina. Then she moved down, sucking up more, moving
her lips and mouth like a vacuum, until she had licked or inhaled every bit from one side of
the sawhorse, then the next.

Finally, she turned toward a still surprised-looking bald giant of a man, and used both hands
to bring the still-hard penis to her mouth, leaning against the back of the sawhorse between
Romilda's legs, embracing it almost like a leg or arm against her body, and closing her mouth
over the tip to pull out a bit more.
"You'll hurt yourself," Lilith murmured, voice her own again as she began to shrink a little,
then more, until she was Lyra Sendai once again, and the cock was gone.

Ginny blinked, the nude Japanese-American looking as sexy and desirable as ever as Lyra
winked, "You like the dicks, I know... but you'd have killed yourself on that one. Try... this."

Where her clitoris would be, Ginny watched another penis begin to take shape, morphing into
a head, then shaft, growing hard even as it formed, until at the top of her cleft a foot-long
shaft rose, tapping the bottom of the shapeshifting girl's heavy breasts. "Suck this one,
Ginny."

It wasn't too long, she decided, just very long, maybe still a little longer than Harry's. She
couldn't deep-throat him, not even close, but this... maybe. It wouldn't push on her tonsils as
much, for it was quite a bit thinner. She fell to her knees, looking up Lyra's increasingly-
familiar body. She'd already demonstrated cunnilingus on the girl an hour ago, so was
familiar with the view from below, and lifted both hands to angle the shaft toward her face,
tilting her head to give it a long, exploratory lick. "I can't believe you have a dick, too,"
Ginny muttered once she reached the top, "it's so unfair... some girls have all the luck."

"You," Lyra grinned, putting a hand on Ginny's head, "are a witch, are you not? You can have
one if you'd like- you just need the proper spells and practice... and you could be sucking
your own horse-sized cock if you want."

Ginny's face flushed, but she wasted no more time after that encouragement to put the purple
tip in her mouth and go to town. She knew she wasn't as skilled as Hermione, but she could
still make Harry cum. She was determined, now, to do the same for the Succubus, who
seemed almost teasing in her nonchalance.

The tip hit her throat, and again she wanted to recoil, but she somehow forced down the urge,
even as it bent slightly to go further down. One quarter in... Gods, her twat is so far away
still! I'll never... not like this. I'll make her change the angle later. Pleasure... gotta make her
cum.

So Ginny practiced that, too, for another half-hour while Harry shared Lyra's vision. Ginny's
face, on every pump, obscured by full, round breasts, eagerly struggling to get more of the
shaft down her throat, but both hands gripping or pumping in time with the bobbing of her
head, until Lyra decided to let her have her way, and allowed the climax to wash over her,
spilling her seed once more into Ginny's mouth.

But she wasn't done. After her orgasm had finished calming, Lyra used her unnatural strength
to lift the hungry girl by the shoulders, high over her head until she giggled dizzily, then
lowered her, still standing, onto her cock.

Ginny gasped as she felt it, moaned as the tip brushed her cervix, but Lyra didn't lower her
further. Instead, she kept one hand beneath Ginny's arm, and moved the other to her waist to
hold their bodies together, pressing Lyra's chest beneath Ginny's. The Succubus then started
nibbling at the soft, tender flesh at the bottom side of the human girl's breasts while she
walked carefully, still sliding slowly in and out, over to the bed and gently lay her upon it.
Ginny gasped and moaned when Lyra stood up partially, still inside her, to adjust their
positions slightly. "I can't... fucking belive a girl's inside me... Gods above, I can't wait to
have you and Harry in me, Lyra!"

"Soon," the Succubus promised, "After your Runes. It's getting late, though, and you have
classes. I'll make you climax so hard you'll get some sleep... I promise, lover."

"I am your lover," Ginny murmured, eyes rolling as Lyra began to move, unaware that it was
a very close facsimile of her brother's penis she was enjoying so very much, until both came
again, and once more, stronger, a few minutes later. "I'll always be your lover, Harry..."

That was all she remembered of that night, over heights of ecstasy she could not have
dreamed of even a month previously.

Harry? He remembered more, though he wasn't sure what was dream and what was not, as he
used first Ginny's and then Romilda's body again and again and again, then went looking for
wanking boys and jerking girls to clean up after.
 Losing or Gaining Control

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Of course there's also my DISCORD, here, https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG which has all kinds
of fun goodies too. ;)

Chap. 33 Losing or Gaining Control

The wizard once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle frowned as his body, his new, glorious body,
twitched.

Twitched where it shouldn't have, for he had forgone such desires years earlier, and cared
little for them. Breaking a girl beneath him was no more fun than doing it with his magic, so
what had been the point? Easier to let his minions- his 'friends', he silently corrected himself-
do it when such things were necessary.

And this new, gray-silver skinned body, the one he'd built for himself with the inept aid of
Wormtail and three exceedingly precious ingredients in the graveyard of Little Hangleton's
small church should not have been capable of the type of movements it was making. "Most...
disconcerting," Voldemort hissed to himself, uncomfortably shifting in the chair at the end of
the breakfast table in Malfoy Manor.

He did not truly need to eat, but Voldemort liked to keep up appearances, and his body could
mimic- even use- the process of digestion well enough that he gained some sustenance from
the edibles, whether he needed them or not. But this particular breakfast was more about the
people around the table than himself, Voldemort could freely admit. They needed to eat,
weaker creatures that they were. They needed to... socialize. Bond.

Inwardly, Voldemort shuddered, even as he found himself imagining what they saw in it. He'd
never been one for friends, even in his far youth. As a teen, while he had briefly found joy in
physical gratification, it had quickly paled compared to the greater feeling of control when he
forced himself on one girl or another, leading him to the feeling that even the physical
pleasure of mating was second-best to a profound control over oneself and one's magic. Even
that, though, was nothing to control over others. Control which he felt himself longing, for
some reason, to exert in a way he hadn't since just a couple of years after leaving Hogwarts,
when he'd first begun to perform the rituals that had granted him such power on top of his
Horcruxes.
The vast majority of the beings in the room were witches and wizards, roughly equal in
number, though he knew there was a House-Elf in the corner behind Lucius, mostly hidden
from view, and his own familiar, Nagini, was curled up beneath the fire behind him. Rowle,
the three Lestranges, the two Carrows, Lucius and his wife, they made up nearly half of the
group, which had spent the better part of breakfast discussing their upcoming plans to
infiltrate the famous school, and how they might help young Draco Malfoy in his task of
opening the door for their entry.

A difficult task, given that only Voldemort himself had any idea what the door was, since
Draco had been forbidden to tell even his parents, as part of Lucius' punishment.

After all, he personally didn't need the doorway opened on that end. He could simply... walk
through the gates, should he desire it. But no... first, before he attempted to enter the school,
Dumbledore needed to be removed, which was why Draco had been given the other half of
the task. Getting his Death Eaters into the school would allow them to cause some havoc,
yes, with the Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors. But their true purpose was to finish the job if-
when- Draco found himself unequal to the task of defeating the powerful Headmaster.

Some might consider it strange, that Voldemort, whom the foolish and weak usually
considered a megalomaniac, could acknowledge the strength, power and skill of one Albus
Dumbledore. Yet, there was no reason not to. The aged wizard was regarded as the most
powerful man alive, and one of the most powerful to have ever lived the world over. It was
only right and natural that the Death Eaters feared him. But Voldemort? He didn't truly fear
Dumbledore, not anymore. Respect was a much better word. Respect as a long-standing foe,
an adversary in the great game they played, but not truly an enemy to be hated or feared or
reviled. Besides, in the end, Voldemort knew it only served himself if everyone thought them
equal. These were the thoughts Voldemort found himself ruminating on while his eyes roved
the slender curvature of Bellatrix' neck as it moved down to her almost gaunt shoulders and
limp cleavage, what had once been enough to catch even his eye, before Azkaban had
stripped much of her beauty from the mad witch.

It would make the victory and stories of his power all the greater when the 'greatest wizard of
the millennium' fell to Voldemort's meager henchmen, or at worst, to himself.

No... the greater problem was the boy.

How he had escaped the Department of Mysteries alive was still something that eluded
Voldemort. Many of his men and women had died in that battle, but they had died against
children, plus whatever magical beast had been set free within the bowels of the Department
of Mysteries that had done no damage whatsoever to the children themselves, while burning,
disemboweling, even decapitating his own forces.

There was something else going on, and Voldemort knew it. He could feel it. The game-board
had shifted in some undefinable way, almost as if the chess board now had a third player,
which caused all of the other rules to change in a subtle fashion. What, though, he couldn't
say.

It did not occur to him, as he began to imagine Bellatrix' emaciated, slowly recovering body
sinking onto his improperly-rigid penis that his more localized predicament or the greater
issue could possibly be linked.

Still, once he caught himself, Voldemort scowled. "All of you out," he hissed, "except you,
Lucius and Narcissa."

As much as he might have dreamed about Bellatrix with her former beauty, given the
circumstances, Voldemort knew those days were gone, possibly forever. Now, it was Narcissa
who was the prettier sister... and Lucius still needed to be punished.

Once everyone else was gone from the room, Bella giving him a last, confused look as she
closed the door behind her, Voldemort rested a fingertip on his wand, locking the door and
windows without moving it or incanting a spell. "Now, Lucius... it is time for the rest of your
punishment to begin. We will start by helping me with a problem I have developed. Both of
you, come closer. Yes, sit there, Lucius, at my right hand as you once dreamed of being. And
you, Narcissa... you will sit between my feet."

The already pale-complected man lightened further as Voldemort opened his robes, but did
not dare protest, which sent another thrill through Voldemort's body, even as a suddenly
green-faced woman opened her mouth to receive him with all the aplomb and decor he had
come to expect from proper pure-blooded wives.

And it was, all in all, more pleasurable than Voldemort had remembered, or given credence
to. Maybe, he acknowledged once it was done, there is some worth to this sort of thing after
all. But the control over both is still the best part.

Harry woke up in the bed with Ron, Hermione long-since gone, to find Lilith licking her lips
clean of Ron's splattered seed, before twisting her body to engulf him in her mouth, too.
"Sorry," she murmured to both still-sleepy teens as she popped off, "I've got to get this done
now, I need to be at breakfast as Lyra on-time some of the time, since I have early classes,
too."

"Don't mind me," Ron, penis only half-flagged, stretched languidly and put his hands behind
his head to watch as Lilith went back to blowing Harry quickly. The dark-haired wizard
shrugged, mirroring his friend's position, and leaned back into the pillows to enjoy the
sensations.

"Where'd Hermione go?" he asked as his climax began to approach a few minutes later.

"Shower," Ron shrugged, "she wanted to double-check her homework early. Thinks she's
going to fail everything already because she isn't spending as much time on it."

Harry snorted, pushing Lilith's head down onto himself further as she began to change her
throat into the same tentacled orifice she used as a special treat, groaning in pleasure a
moment later. "Gods, Lils... it's still weird, but I love how that feels."

"Mffh fuu, Mfthr," she murmured around him, and the further vibrations were just enough to
cause him to peak. A few minutes later, both boys were in their respective showers while
Hermione continued to pour over her homework in the common area, and a bleary-eyed
Ginny staggered, nude and encrusted in what could only be Lilith's fluids, into the third
shower.

Friday passed in a blur of learning and study for Harry. Aside from missing Lyra's 'go-round'
at breakfast, there was little time for fraternizing. Potions, Herbology, and Defense followed
rapidly after each other in the morning, and while Dumbledore kept a careful eye out in his
classes to make sure that Lyra and Harry weren't up to anything, the wizard, as usual, found
himself so enraptured by both the subject and Dumbledore's teaching style that he hadn't
thought about it the entire class.

After lunch, there was a bit of free time, one period, but Hermione was quite insistent that
they get their schoolwork out of the way before play over the weekend and that night, so both
he and Ron had buckled down and gotten about half of their eighteen inches on the proper
brewing and uses of the Wiggenweld Potion, a powerful healing draught and the counter to
the Draught of Living Death and other sleeping potions, while Hermione had just finished
hers before Double Transfiguration.

By eight o'clock, even Hermione, who had been helping both boys, Neville, and Ginny with
their own revision on top of her own work, was starting to drag.

Which meant that, when Ron slapped his copy of the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six,
shut, the others were quite ready to join him. Still, it was Ginny who was the first to stand
upright, looking tired but chipper, "Runes?"

Harry blinked. "Er... oh. Yeah. Uh... one more line, and I'll- join you. If you want me to."

"Of course I do, Harry," Ginny said, sounding more annoyed that he'd felt the need to ask, "I
think I'll want you and Neville. And Hermione, if she's... willing."

The bushy-haired witch looked up from her own frantic study, "Er, what? O- oh. Yes. I... I
can h-help."

Ron smirked as their shared girlfriend blushed. Harry, though, grinned as he stood and
offered her a hand, "I distinctly remember, Hermione, you saying you didn't like to share."

"Well," she sniffed as she accepted the hand, "I have since learned that sharing is caring, and
that it's always polite to share."

Only Ron was still frowning, sitting on the chair in the common room when Harry, who had
politely held the door for the others, entered the Dungeon, which now had a very cordoned-
and curtained-off section to hide Romilda from Neville's eyes. "Er... coming, mate?"

"That's my sister, Harry," Ron groaned, "I..."

"Mm. I think I see what you mean," Harry murmured, then put his head through the doorway,
"I'll join you in a minute," before letting the door shut and crossing to sit next to Ron again.

"I'm not saying you should shag her," Harry eventually said, as the sounds of giggling and
moans began to rise through the mostly-silenced door, "but is there harm in watching?"
Ron was quiet for a while, a long while, but he eventually muttered, voice low, "Yeah. Yeah,
there is."

Harry blinked, not having expected that answer. "What harm?"

He watched carefully as his best mate continued to turn over whatever he was trying to say in
his mind. Whatever it was- and Harry had a good idea after thinking about it for a moment- it
was causing no end of consternation. And a part of him knew exactly why. It was strange.
Weird. Taboo, and even freakish. Yet...

Why?

Sure, there were the increased chances of genetic anomalies. Mutations.

But Harry wasn't a particularly religious person himself, had never been allowed to go to
church. His only 'education' outside of school was being told, more or less, "If you ever get a
girl pregnant, you'll be tossed out," with no instruction on what exactly that required so that
he could avoid it.

Still, somehow he knew it was 'wrong'. He felt a secret guilty thrill every time he thought of
the two together, and that guilt was all he needed. But he wanted to see it anyway.

"I..." Ron murmured quietly, looking away very red-faced, "when I see it, I want... more. I
wanna touch her, Harry, and she's my sister."

Harry grinned softly, but hid it when Ron turned back his way, "You touch Ginny all the
time."

"Not- not like that, though," Ron muttered.

Harry let him stew for a few minutes more, then asked, "When we put on Neville's Runes,
you were watching her blow me even when Hermione was on you. When we were shagging,
you watched. You told me that night you wanted her to do it, suck you off, too. Was that a
lie?"

"No," Ron half-growled, "that's the problem. Brothers and sisters aren't supposed to... to do
things like that, but the whole time she was next to me, I kept feeling like she was a half-
second from tugging me off, or leaning over and... and then you started doing more, like you
were just... tempting me harder. It..."

"Okay," Harry shrugged, feeling surprisingly nonchalant despite how bothered Ron seemed,
"if you don't want to get a blow-job from Ginny, that's fine. If you do, just ask me. She won't
say no if I ask her to. But I know you've enjoyed watching us, so I don't see what's so
different this time. Still, if you want to go find someone else to shag, you can. Hell...
Romilda's behind the curtain, and Lil- Lyra did say that the more sex she gets the faster she'll
recover, especially from us."

Ron's frown faltered, then slowly lifted into a smile. "That's right. I... I guess I can watch, and
if things get...weird... I can just go behind the curtain and pretend I'm wanking in private."
"Right."

When Harry led the way back into the Dungeon, Neville was on his knees, nude, between
Ginny's ankles where she was tied in the same position he'd been a few days earlier on the
bed, one hand idly gripping his fat dick, but doing nothing else but panting slowly as he
watched Hermione assist by sixty-nining the younger witch, while Lyra held a probably
conjured, porcelain bowl to capture the red-head's juices as she began to writhe.

Harry and Ron both made their way into the room, Harry toward the space between couch
and bed, and Ron to the headboard, so he could look down and at least claim he was
watching Hermione being eaten out in turn, ignoring that it was his sister eagerly doing the
deed. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Yes, Master," Lyra replied quietly, licking her lips as she, too, watched Hermione work, "but
unfortunately, given your bond with Ginny, I'll need you to wait until last. Hermione's runes
will work a bit differently too, but any girls we give them to afterward will probably be more
standard. Neville will have her cunt, mouth, and ass, Hermione her mouth, then you will
enjoy your Pet's body too. Mouth, cunt, and tight little arse after. With each set, we'll gather
the mixtures together in the bowl, combined with what I can pull from Hermione when she
climaxes.

"Because you're her Master already, we have to do a bit longer ritual. Once we have fluids
from all three, I'll start drawing the first Rune with that, and Neville and Hermione will be
done with the ritual. They can step back while I do my set in the same way. Then you,
Master, will complete the set since you are her Master as well. Once she's been claimed by a
male, Neville, a female in Hermione, myself as the Succubus doing the ritual, and you as her
Master, I can inscribe all the Runes I'll need for the next ritual as well. Any sex after your
three, though, will be for fun."

Just as she finished speaking, Lyra removed the bowl from between Ginny's legs to push it
beneath Hermione's twat as her plump ass began to shake, and the girl gasped. "G- God,
Ginny... you're s-so goood..."

After her climax was over, Harry stepped forward to see two slightly different shades of
liquid mixing in the bottom of the bowl as Lyra passed it back just in time to catch the squirt
that was the result of Hermione's renewed assault on Ginny's clit.

A few seconds later, as Hermione limply rolled over to the side opposite Lyra and Harry,
Neville eagerly knee-walked forward. But he paused, tip of his head just nudging Ginny's
pale, drenched folds, and looked to Harry. "Is... is this really okay?"

Harry froze as Neville's gray-green eyes met his.

Was it...?

They were so alike, he and Neville.

So much was so very similar.

Did Neville deserve Ginny?

He knew they'd shagged before, of course.

He imagined Ginny riding him with abandon, as she had done when Neville got his own
Runes. The night he'd been out of control with lust... And he wanted that for Ginny. "Do it."

While he'd now had quite a bit more experience than the previous year, Neville had only
recently gotten his own Runes, and had not fully adjusted. He lacked some subtlety, and
drove in after that, stretching and pulling at Ginny's otherwise narrow channel with his wrist-
wide dick, stretching what was likely her entire length out to nearly twice the width of the
average caucasian penis.

She bucked, though Lyra, still holding the bowl as she began to layer Runes already with
some of the mixture, accommodated by pulling hand and porcelain away. "Ffuuuuck!" Ginny
screamed, head lifted to look down her body at where Neville was now buried to the hilt, his
pubic hairs tickling her cunt.

"S- Sorry... to fast?"

Ginny's response shocked everyone but Lyra and Harry. "No, you fat-cocked stud, it's great...
fuck me, fuck me so hard!"

Harry kept his attention on the ritual and his good friend shagging his own Pet while he
slowly disrobed, letting the clothes pile on the floor. On the other side of the bed, Hermione,
still glassy-eyed from her own strong climax under Ginny's skilled tongue, put one hand on
Ginny's rapidly-shaking teat and the other on her own while she twisted her head and torso to
watch from just a few inches away. Ron, still standing, had freed himself from his trousers
but didn't undress, and leaned down just a little to pull Hermione's hips toward the edge of
the bed and push inside.

Neville, meanwhile, hiked up Ginny's rear so it was practically on his lap as he started
pounding in short thrusts, sweating and gasping, all-but lost to lust once more.

But Ginny didn't seem to care that he was taking little thought for her pleasure. Instead, Harry
delighted that from the girl's mouth came an endless stream of pants, mewls of delight, or
some few words that continually urged Neville on.

It took Harry about five minutes, moving slowly, to finally push his boxers down and step out
of them, and he was raging hard, of course, but knew he couldn't start too soon. He didn't
even dare distract Lyra, not right now, since Neville had just started to gush, lifting Ginny
even further from the bed, into the depths of her pussy.

He withdrew a moment later with a wet-sounding squelch, and Lyra waved a hand at once,
pulling up gobs and strings of both his cum and Ginny's, which swirled together in a long,
twisting rope to settle in the bowl.

Neville, thanks to the Runes, was still hard even though he was panting and glistening. "Her
mouth, Nev," Harry urged, "fuck her mouth, too."
Shakily, the other boy stood and walked, the bed rocking and sending them all with it, to
Ginny's head, then spun around and knelt once more. She, though, turned her own eager
attention to his sack first, pulling on one testicle, then the other, with her lips, licking all
around it, and only then opening wider for the rest of him.

Harry gaped as Neville's erection seemed to stretch Ginny's petite mouth painfully wide,
pulling her lips utterly taut... but she held him all in her mouth, for he was not as long as
Harry by several inches. He could see her upturned, curved neck working, too, and the
motion of her tongue as she licked and laved.

Lyra returned to drawing Runes rapidly, not just a trio, but a long line of them down between
Ginny's breasts to her navel, and another singular one below it, a complex pattern Harry
hadn't yet seen.

Hermione and Ron climaxed, as far as Harry could tell, together a few minutes before Neville
did, and he helped her to the couch, where she whispered, "I'm sorry, Ron... I'm tired... I don't
have the Runes yet."

Harry looked behind himself to see Ron frowning with his long dick next to Hermione's
mouth, but the girl did look truly remorseful, as if she wanted to help him out, to continue,
but simply didn't have the energy. Ron shrugged after a moment, then nodded. "I
understand... next time, Hermione."

He watched as his mate crossed the room, then stepped behind the curtain, snorting in
amusement, before the rhythmic sound of flesh on flesh and soft moans he'd dreamed of the
night before filled his ears. Neville, in the meantime, had recovered once more and knelt
where he had previously, though now Ginny's position had been flipped while he was
distracted, so that she was on all fours.

Lyra, as he turned back, was wiping a generous dollop from the bowl onto the small star of
Ginny's anus, and reminded Neville, "This will hurt. I know you want to rut... let her adjust
first. She's never had anything as wide as you there."

Neville grunted, aligned himself as Lyra pulled away and pushed in. To his credit, he did so
slowly, gently after a fashion. But he didn't stop until Ginny's lightly-bound hands were
holding her head just off the sheets as she whimpered in pain.

And Harry felt for her, wanted to punish Neville for hurting his Pet, but...

"I'm so full..."

Ginny began to move, rocking back and forth with tiny motions that grew longer and faster.
Behind him, he heard Hermione gasp faintly in surprise at Ginny's eagerness, and heard Ron,
louder, groan as another climax approached.

Damn, I need to be inside someone...

But he forced himself to remain still as Ginny threw her head back in rapture, and her body
moved faster still, until she was throwing her tiny self against Neville's, about twice the mass
of her own, and he couldn't help but lift his own Herbology-darkened, if clean, hands to the
pale girl's hips and hold her still as he started moving in turn.

Ginny likes anal quite a lot, Harry realized, smiling to himself. He'd only been with her that
way... what, twice, now? He'd have to do it more, now that he realized she did truly enjoy it.

This time, his third, Neville didn't last very long, and soon he was gushing out into Ginny's
ass as well. Lyra followed the same procedure as he pulled out slowly, grunting, and made his
way, still half-hard, to collapse next to Hermione on the couch.

Still, Harry made himself stay still while Lyra drew more runes, then handed him the bowl as
her cock began to swell out... and then a second, mounted on top of it.

"Just speeding things up, Master," Lyra cooed, stepping behind the shaking, quivering girl
that was his Pet, and shoving both moderate-sized cocks into her anus and cunt at the same
time.

Harry finally let himself start stroking his erection lightly as he watched Lyra fill both of
Ginny's lower holes at once, and heard shifting on the couch, though it was quiet next to the
growing cries behind the curtain. Romilda had not been quiet before she became a creature of
lust, and was less so now.

He didn't particularly care, too, what Neville thought of Lyra being able to grow a hard cock,
much less two. He'd either want to be with her again, with or without, or not.

The Succubus didn't torture the human girl long, though, and climaxed fairly quickly, before
one penis faded and she held the bowl for Harry, "Catch what falls out, Master, while I use
her throat."

Privately wondering, by this point, if Lilith wasn't secretly torturing him, Harry obeyed, and
soon, Ginny was half-insensate once more as Lyra rolled her over, undoing all four ropes
with a gesture, and adding more depth to the long series of Runes.

Finally... "Alright, Master. You're her Master, too, so you choose the order, but you'll need to
use her in every hole tonight."

He grinned. "It's been about an hour and a half that I've been waiting... I take it more than
once won't hurt?"

"No," Lyra giggled, "once the Runes activate, she'll want it just as badly as Neville."

Harry glanced in the direction of the couch, where Neville was wanking himself with a still
tired-looking Hermione's hand as he watched. "Hey, Nev... if you don't want to wait, there's a
girl waiting for you behind the curtain. Might have to share with Ron."

Neville lurched up, eyes wide, and almost ran for the far corner. "Hey, Nev."

"Hi, Ron... is that... Vane?"

"Yeah... nice cunt, nice mouth."

"Oooohh...."

Worry that Neville might rat him and Ron out faded as he let his own gigantic member slide
along the well-slicked folds of Ginny's cunt, then pushed in lower, filling her ass to the brim
too. Again, she cried out, "That's it, Harry... fuck my ass! Use me like a Knockturn whore!"

And he did.

Being with Ginny, like Hermione, felt like home.

That was still there, as always, but in that moment, Harry could not cherish it. Instead, he
knew that she was his Pet, his slave, his property, to use as he willed, in the same way
Romilda was being used by Ron and Neville behind the curtain. So he did, taking enjoyment
for himself, knowing that Ginny wanted only that. She didn't care for her own pleasure, only
his.

And, in that moment, that was right and good.

He was probably dirty after spilling inside her, but didn't care as he knee-walked up her body
to shove his dick into the girl's mouth, and she didn't grimace or make signs of complaint,
only took him in eagerly, eyes beginning to glow with a soft pink light.

He came again several minutes later, and moved down to fill her beautiful, still-stretched,
gaping pussy, slick with earlier leavings and her continued, paramount arousal.

And when he was done, the light in the girl's eyes flashed brighter still, matching the same
flash in Lyra's, in the Runes, and if he'd been able to see it, his own.

Still, between each climax, Lyra added more Runes, then as he had finished with the third,
pulled him away. "Give me a few minutes, perhaps a half-hour, to finish her set, Master...
Romilda or Hermione can do more, now."

Drunkenly, hazy-minded with his own lust, or maybe Ginny's, Harry nodded and turned,
stumbling. He landed atop Hermione, dripping dick inches from her mouth. She groaned,
opened wide, and, rested and more awake now, began to suckle.

Gods, she's so good at this...

Hermione was the only human girl he knew that could deep-throat him, and she used the skill
eagerly that evening, until she swallowed his entire load.

Then, as he pulled away, still glassy-eyed herself, Hermione rolled over, lifting her arms to
the back of the couch, and said over her shoulder, "My ass, Harry... put it in there."

"Don't need to tell me twice," he muttered, and using her own saliva on his cock, pushed in.
He watched, too, while slowly moving in and out of the girl's still relatively untouched flesh,
the curtain slide open.

Neville was fucking Romilda's ass, if Harry was right, just as he was Hermione's. But Ron,
looking a bit spent but ready for at least one more round, pulled his long erection from the
depths of Romilda's throat and staggered, cum still dripping from his tip and swinging while
he walked, over to Hermione.

"Love you both," she murmured, then inhaled Ron's length, too.

Harry looked down his body as his best friends coupled with him in their own way, both
looking exhausted but unwilling to stop, until he filled Hermione's intestines with his seed,
and Ron did the same from the other end of her digestive tract.

He was still hard inside the witch when Ron sank to his knees and kissed her, then vanished
behind the couch, apparently passing out on the floor.

A moment later, as he withdrew, Hermione did the same on the couch. He adjusted their
positions with a roll of his eyes, still quite hard, and made use of Romilda's still sloppy cunt
once more after Neville traded sides for the younger girl's mouth before he re-joined Ginny
and Lyra just as the Runes began to flash a blinding white-pink, then fade.

When Harry could see again, Ginny was already engulfing him with her mouth, and Lyra
eagerly lapped at the girl's folds from behind.

It took six hours to sate the sex-maddened girl between them, but Harry couldn't complain
about any of that night.
 Lessons Learned

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 34: Lessons Learned

Harry also wasn’t complaining the morning after Ginny got her Runes when he woke up on
the fluid-sticky sheets of the bed in the Dungeon of his loaned quarters. He was almost
unbearably hot despite being utterly nude, and the reason was fairly obvious: he was
surrounded by bodies. Equally hot, equally nude, most breathing deeply and heavily. As
Harry slowly disentangled himself from not just Hermione and Ginny, the latter girl's body
bruised and covered in the dried remains of semen or other juices, having been the most well-
used target of the evening thanks to the rampant lust caused by the application of Lilith's
Runes.

On Hermione's other side, one hand still slowly groping one of her own lightly bruised
breasts in his sleep, Ron was still unconscious but being stroked idly by an older woman with
long, vibrant red hair who could have been Ginny in another fifteen years, while she sat, clad
in a diaphanous white gown, nearly see-through it was so sheer, on the edge of the bed
behind him. Yet, despite the appearance, one that the sleep-laden mind Harry was working
with felt was familiar but couldn't quite place, he knew exactly who the creature helping with
Ron's morning wood was, for he'd seen her briefly the previous day. "Morning, Lilith."

A glance in the other direction, as she smiled in response to his whispered words, told Harry
that Neville had been on Ginny's other side, a recently-drained erection of his own plainly
visible. The other dark-haired wizard's Runes now more firmly in place, Neville had probably
had more orgasms in that night than in a month of wanking, though Harry had to wonder if
his recent exploits with Hannah Abbot, and now Hermione, Ginny, and Lilith, would have
pushed it over, if only just.

And Romilda Vane, unconscious, let out a small, faint snore from her position, not on the
sawhorse where she'd spent at least a day, but down by his feet, just past the foot of the bed
where he could see the straps that had once held Ginny now probably hold Romilda as she sat
on the floor.
"Breakfast?" he wondered softly as he sat up, then gently rolled over to put a hand between
Ginny and Neville, levering himself off the bed.

"I can always eat more of you, Master," the red-haired woman, who seemed to be in her mid-
twenties, crooned quietly, "but I'm afraid you've missed the meal in the Great Hall. Lyra was
nice enough to order some food from the kitchens, but the House-Elf she talked to informed
her it would be another half-hour or so. Of course, if you're hungry, you can always eat like I
do..."

Harry frowned down at Ron's erection, which was twitching in the woman's hands, then
shook his head. "Er, no... I'll pass."

"Silly Master," the woman whispered, "You can eat girl squirt, too, and it should provide
some sustenance for you now. Our bond is very deep."

One of Harry's eyebrows quirked up. "Really?"

She nodded, held up a finger, then bent down to press soft red lips against the tip of Ron's
dick, which began to pulse as she inhaled his semen for several seconds through the firm,
luscious lips. Not a drop escaped, and Harry was no longer surprised to find himself very
hard after watching it happen.

After Ron, who hadn't even regained consciousness, was done and flagging once more the
woman whose body Lilith wore stood up and reached down to press a soft finger to Ron's
forehead, then Hermione's, before fluttering up on invisible wings to do the same to Ginny
and then Neville, before twisting in mid-air and floating toward Harry, giving him a sultry
grin as she took the thin nightie in the first finger and thumb of each and hand slowly hiked it
up inch-by inch, teasingly, until most of her thighs were bare, then let it fall. Then Lilith
moved over, still airborne, to put one leg gracefully on either side of where Harry knew
Romilda's head to be, facing down the bed, and leaned back until she was forced to fall onto
the bed, her wings disappearing, with a bounce that should have woken all four of the other
teens.

She giggled, "They're all asleep for at least an hour, Master... come eat your morning meal?"

He grinned as he strode around the edge of the bed, carefully stepping around Romilda's
waist, finding the girl hunched forward and drooling onto the wooden floor of the chamber,
hands and arms loose enough that, if she were aware, she could probably have freed herself
with no effort at all. Then the red-haired woman pulled up on the nighty again to reveal an
equally red-haired thatch of fur between her legs, which was light and 'shaved' to resemble a
heart, and an otherwise glistening, fresh-looking twat with only the faintest of swelling in her
labia.

With her knees hooked on the footboard, Harry smiled, then leaned down to rest one hand on
her smooth, just-mounded belly, and gave the inside of the pale, unfreckled flesh of her left
thigh a squeeze, and inhaled sharply.

She smelled of cedar and something you might find in a bakery, though Harry couldn't place
it off the top of his head. "You smell amazing," he murmured, pushing out his tongue and
leaning in further to give Lilith's body a long lick from the bottom of her taint to the top,
nuzzling her small, hooded clit with the tip of his tongue as she gave a soft moan. "Who are
you...?"

"A secret, Master," Lilith cooed, pushing her night-shirt down to free one breast and bringing
it to her own mouth to suckle, "eat all my juices, Master."

He leaned in for another taste, gently pulling at the left side of her folds to give his tongue
easier access, then pushing it inside. It came to him in the first few seconds what the other
scent was, for this woman's body also tasted, not just of the common fragrant tree, but of
fresh-baked, buttered bread.

He continued to watch as Lilith suckled the teat, then moved to the other, or pinched and
rolled her own nipples on the slightly hanging but still perky chest, which were deep pink
that faded to a soft brown at the edges of her narrow areolae. Most of his attention, though,
was on her flavor, how her petals seemed to open willingly for him with the slightest touch.
His attention moved a bit a few minutes in, however, when Romilda's greedy mouth took his
erection inside as she woke, gasping, from some fevered dream.

Fortunately, he was no longer a blushing virgin, and even while being orally assaulted by the
sex-crazed fifth-year, Harry looked up Lilith's body, ignoring his still sleeping friends, "Did
you tie her there just for this?"

The red-head gave a sultry look, "Mmmaaaayyybe..."

"Ten points to the Succubus," he moaned as Romilda pulled off of him to start suckling on his
hanging testicles in turn.

"Points...? You aren't going to... punish me, Master?"

"Maybe later," he murmured, "right now, I'm- unh- en- enjoying this... too much."

Unbidden, at least consciously, when Romilda took him back in her mouth again, he started
humping into her throat, but as he realized it was happening, decided that he just didn't care.
Until the girl regained some semblance of herself, there really was little point in worrying
about her own pleasure or pain. Besides, she'd already been well-used, he guessed, by a cock
bigger than his when Lilith had been training her and Ginny the night before last. Or had that
all been a dream...?

Lilith reached down with the hand not squeezing her tits to slide it over her stomach, down a
thigh, and back up with a moan as her hips started to twist against his mouth. "Mnya....
Mass... Master... going to..."

Even though he, too, was receiving excellent oral attention, it was clearly the Succubus who
had climaxed first, and the first jet of her clear fluids washed over Harry's tongue like
ambrosia. Yes, warm bread. A cedar-fire, roasting marshmallows. Something he had never
experienced in life, but that came to his mind fully-formed. The glory of lying with someone
you truly loved. Clean, cool water in a desert. Air when suffocating.
That was how Harry experienced the first gush, the very first wash of Lilith's squirt into his
mouth as his lips clamped down over her urethra and vagina to capture it all.

And power washed through him. Energy born of a star, he thought at first, or the fire of his
very passion for Lilith, Hermione, Ginny, girls and women in general... something boundless,
limitless, without question or measure.

It tingled outward, warming and soothing away aches from long toil, down his throat, into his
stomach, then outward, following what could have been chakra pathways, until they ended at
his fingers and toes, and Harry cried out with her, his own orgasm following with the second
and third bursts of her own fluid, hard enough to make Romilda cough beneath him even as
she tried to swallow each and every drop of his jizz, failed, and still kept trying even as it
began to leak down her chin and drop onto her eager, nubile chest.

When he realized it was over, Harry did, indeed, feel full in a way he never had before. Not
just satisfied sexually- he felt, even after just orgasming powerfully and sending more than a
pint, if he had to guess, of his magically-produced semen into Romilda's stomach, that he
could go again immediately but he still felt satisfied. As if he had never been more full, more
healthy, more energetic, more awake.

Slowly, as Romilda gasped for air but continued trying to suck him off even with his cum
dribbling from her mouth, Harry came back to himself, and the feeling began to fade.

Yet... The rush was already nearly gone, but the satisfaction and feeling of fullness remained.

"Huh. I do feel like I had breakfast. Weird."

"It's the bond," the woman said quietly, voice still strangely familiar and soothing, "we are
becoming more alike. You'll never be an Incubus- not really- but you may as well be, if the
bond gets much stronger. As I said on the night we met, some of the best lovers in history
have been Contractors, and now you know why. It's because you are, or you become, like us.
The ability is called Cum Eater. Appropriate enough."

"A bit on the nose, really," he chuckled.

Slowly, seeming sated herself, Lilith sat up and pulled her legs back to sit cross-legged at the
foot of the bed, then leaned forward to press a long, passionate kiss into Harry's mouth,
where her hands moved to his cheeks to hold him in place, not that he wanted to leave the
girl's mouth just yet.

"Once you can pull away, Master, we should talk. Probably in your bedroom or shower. It's
nearly ten, and the others will wake up hungry and in need of a shower as well."

Harry nodded, "Do you want my cum from her?"

Lilith shrugged, looking down at where he still fucked into the younger girl's waiting mouth,
"No... it'll be all the protein she will get for at least a few more days, until she gets enough
back to realize she needs to eat. Besides, the magic of it will still help her. It's too bad she's so
sloppy an eater, though. Wasteful."
Harry laughed as he pulled out, then fisted a hand in Romilda's own dark hair and tilted it
back. Her mouth was still open, dripping with his seed, and he let a dollop of his own saliva
enter it. "Swallow," he told her.

She did, but there was still more. Harry shrugged, stepped in, and forced his dick down,
pushing into her once more. While the red-haired guise still watched, Harry pulled out again
after a few pumps to lean down and step back, then stood with Romilda's slight knees hooked
under his elbow. Then he stepped in again, shifted his hips, and pushed forward into her
oozing twat, which strangely felt just as silky smooth and untouched as it had that night in the
forest, though she had no hymen.

Lilith stepped up behind him then, pushing her chest, then the rest of her body, into Harry's
back as he started shagging the other girl, who began moaning and panting, held aloft by the
straps around her arms and his own strength, but otherwise swung in the air. The Succubus
wrapped an arm around his waist, and whispered, "She has a great pussy, Master. I don't
blame you for putting her in Thrall, even if it was an accident. She'll be a great toy even after
she recovers."

He groaned, and began panting when Lilith leaned in to lick the shell of his ear, then slid
downward, peppering his broad back with kisses, squeezing his flexing arse, then leaned in to
begin licking his swinging scrotum.

That was too much, and Harry filled the girl again after just a few minutes, slamming forward
into her with such force that he drove her head into the footboard, and again felt every pulse
of his jizz fly up the channel of his cock and blast outward, directly into the well-used womb,
to then flood around his length, down to where Lilith began licking and lapping at the circle
he had stretched her cunt into, letting not a drop of that precious fluid hit the floor, this time.

Slowly, he pulled out, and let Romilda down to the floor. With surprising kindness, Lilith
then untied one of the girl's hands, really just pulled it from the hanging strap, and guided
four fingers, then her whole hand, into the girl's stretched cunt, where she began to scissor it
back and forth, slopping and squishing lewdly against her flesh and his leavings. "Come on,
Master, she can enjoy that until one of the others wakes up and wants to make use of her.
Let's get you showered, and talk."

Oddly, though she followed him into his bedroom, undressed him sensually, and then joined
him in the shower before bathing him herself with a soft sponge and gentle caressing
motions, Lilith didn't do anything else overtly sexual. She didn't change her form, either,
remaining the somewhat tall, beautiful red-head in her mid-twenties she had been when he
woke up.

Nor, he noted, did the sheer white nightie disappear, even when it was drenched enough to
reveal even more of her shapely, slender form than he had seen before in the shower.

Yet, when she led him out and helped him dress, too, in the warmth and dry of his own
bedroom, she was dry as well as she sat on one of the two chairs near the fireplace, leaving
him to take the other.
He heard a door shut elsewhere in the quarters, and a few minutes later, another shower turn
on.

"This form... do you know who it is?"

Slowly, Harry nodded. He hadn't put it together until she asked, though it had been
increasingly obvious as she moved. It was someone he had seen many times, though only
once in recent years, as a pale reflection of...

"Lily... Lily Potter. My mother."

She nodded softly, a bit sadly, "Yes."

"Why... her?"

Lilith shrugged, looking away, "You love her. Even still."

"Of course I do," Harry whispered, "She's my mother. But... why... why tell me to... to do that
with her? To eat her p- gods, don't make me say that about my own mother..."

At that, the body of Lily Potter smiled, almost beamed across the dim room at her son, "Oh,
Harry... I'm a Succubus. I don't care what form I'm in, not most of the time. But you do. You
wanted to see her again, don't try to deny that. I just let you do two things at once."

"Maybe," he conceded, seeing at least some of her logic, "but we don't... we don't do that.
Not with..."

"Family?"

He nodded.

"And yet," Lily whispered softly, "you want to watch Ron and Ginny shag."

He swallowed.

Shit, I do, don't I?

"I don't see what the difference is," Lilith shrugged again, gesturing at herself, "Lily Potter
was a beautiful woman, your memories show it clearly. I'm not her, so I don't see the hang-
up. Ginny is beautiful, so Ron is fine in wanting her, too. At least, where I'm concerned. I
know you humans are different about that, and that you're unusually interested in the idea.
But since you are... what's the difference?"

He was quiet for a long time, thinking about it.

Another shower, then a third after someone had left the first, and the second opened again,
followed by the distant sounds of moaning and the slap of flesh on flesh. That, too, had
quieted, and his friends had left the quarters entirely before he had his answer. "The
difference is... Lily Potter is my mother, and I care more about... about how I imagined her,
pure and perfect, not... not my dirty, perverted friends."
Lily grinned, "I am glad you can see the hypocrisy, Harry... besides, let's be honest. You liked
eating Mommy's pussy, didn't you?"

He turned bright red, but Harry still nodded. He turned even more scarlet when she leaned in,
"Good, because Mommy wants to eat her son's massive cock, too, since Daddy's not around.
But that can wait. You have social behavior to make up for, Master."

The first Saturday of the school year was hot and dry, and many of the student body, Harry
included, spent the day out on the grounds until after lunch or even mid-afternoon, when it
grew too stifling to remain out-of-doors. Then, many of the upper years turned to homework,
or socializing, while the younger years turned to things like exploding snap or other
wizarding games.

Harry and his friends, meanwhile, were scattered about the Gryffindor Common Room. One
after the other, each had begged off the company of others using their own excuses but, as far
as Harry could tell, for the same reason: being around each other right now and not being
naked was driving them crazy.

So each was in their own area, occasionally alone but more frequently with another friend or
two around. Seamus and Dean, for example, were hanging out with Ron and Neville, playing
a round-robin of chess that, predictably, was being dominated by Ron.

Hermione was alone, working on more revising, while Ginny was in another corner
surrounded by several of her year-mates, including, he thought, the possible boyfriend of one
Romilda Vane, expressing her own condolences and worries between sending lusty looks his
way whenever she thought she could get away with it.

Lyra was next to him, but turned away so that her cute little feet were against his thigh with
her legs folded beneath her, chatting with Lavender and Parvati about the same subject, the
three pontificating wildly on where the younger girl could be, each theory more wild than the
last.

Particularly amusing to Harry, because he knew that Lilith knew full well where Romilda
Vane was, having put her there (now in the large swing hanging from the center of the room)
herself.

He, though, had been reading the same passage of Advanced Potion-Making, the heavily
marked and probably improved, if he had to guess, copy for the last several minutes. His own
essay for Slughorn was nearly finished, but he had a few more passages to go. Only
something, namely Lyra's fingernails against the back of his neck, was distracting him.

He jerked when another familiar voice broke him from his reverie, "Hey, Potter- tryouts next
week, don't forget. Nine, right after breakfast."

"Er, right. Thanks, Katie."

The older girl nodded, her eyes roving the hand twisted behind Lyra's head to scratch at the
back of Harry's, but made no comment as she gave another nod, then turned to walk away in
search of other people she wanted to remind. She stopped by Ginny, interrupting briefly, then,
he smiled to see, headed for Ron, though it seemed she stopped to talk to Dean and Seamus,
too, ignoring Neville, who everyone in the House knew was terrible on a broom.

Then there was another interruption. "Ex- excuse me, Harry Potter?"

He blinked. There was a young boy, eleven, maybe twelve, standing in front of him wearing
Gryffindor robes. "Uh... yeah?"

"Er, P- Professor Dumbledore asked me to get this to you."

Harry took the note slowly, and muttered, "Thanks," as the boy dashed away, looking star-
struck.

Lyra stopped talking at once, twisting her body back around to sit more normally and leaning
in to read it shamelessly, not that Harry cared. It gave Lavender and Parvati a reason to share
a delighted giggle and whisper for several minutes between each other, but even that was
nothing new- they speculated about his love life all the time.

Odd, since Lavender did say she had a crush after last year at the Ministry. And the blow-job
on the train. Girls are weird.

Still, the note was short and to-the-point.

Mr. Potter,

Our first lesson will begin this evening at eight o'clock promptly. The first few meetings will
be held in my office. Come alone. The password will be Atomic Fireball.

-Headmaster Dumbledore

Harry nodded, then folded the letter up. "Guess I'm going to be busy tonight."

Lavender and Parvati burst into another round of giggles, one that Lyra joined in, forcing
Harry to blush. "Sh- shut up... not like that."

"Pity," Lavender murmured, "I might've asked if I could join in."

That sent off another round of even louder laughing.

Though, Harry noticed, Lavender didn't seem to be as boisterous about it as her friend, or
even the disguised Succubus.

As Narcissa Malfoy's full lips twisted around the base of his penis, Lord Voldemort wondered
to himself why he'd given up on the pleasures of the flesh so quickly. "Clearly," he hissed to
himself, "talent helps... continue, Narcissa.... do not remove me until I am finished. Bellatrix,
come closer... yes... how has your dear nephew been doing?"
If the mad witch showed any sign of displeasure at being made to watch while her older sister
blew him, he could not tell. Instead, the dark-haired sister seemed to take a twisted sort of
glee in it, and even dared to put a hand on her sister's head and push her further onto his shaft,
making the blonde woman whimper. "Young Draco reports," she began after a moment,
touching herself through her robes, uncaring that several other Death Eaters were present
with more than a few staring lewdly at the scene before them, "that he has been stymied in
his original plan. Apparently, several other students have learned about the secret room where
the vanishing cabinet was being stored, and he has not been able to gain access due to the
fornicating the ickle children are doing in the room at all hours."

"Ah... I see. And what does young Mr. Malfoy plan to do to circumvent this... obstacle?"

Narcissa's face was turning purple, but Bellatrix didn't let up her hand, instead she seemed to
lean further over his groin as the older sister began to panic, her fear and pain making the
newly rediscovered pleasure in his penis redouble. "He has another plan, a different way for
our forces to enter the castle, but he's also going to try another attack, a more direct method
of removing the old fool."

"I see," Voldemort repeated, idly reaching down a casual hand to slap Narcissa's bulging
cheek, then yanking her back so that only his head was still inside, letting her breath- it was
so much more enjoyable when they could still fight back. "Remind him, won't you, of the
price of failure by year's end? Perhaps send him a photograph of this moment to remind him
of the rewards of success, hmm? Speaking of which... Yaxley. You have performed well.
Come, entertain yourself with dear Bella. Dolohov... no... Snape. Come... you have lusted
after your old friend's wife, have you not? Try her... she is delectable."

Lucius Malfoy, helpless to do so, did not protest as an eager Snape opened his robes and
began to probe at Narcissa's other end.

"See, Lord Voldemort truly does know how to reward his faithful... and punish those who fail
him. Does he not, Lucius...?"

"Y- Yes, My L- Lord..."

Voldemort smiled at the man's further humiliation.

For a full twenty-four hours, now, they, all of them, had made use of Narcissa, in one form or
another, except Lucius himself.

Some had made use of the blonde wizard, in turn, though Voldemort did not care for such
things himself, no more than he cared for the predilections of those few wizards and more
frequent witches who had availed himself of the Dark Lord's former favorite.

No, so far as he had rediscovered his own lust, he definitely preferred female company... the
more talented, the better. Then again, there are new prizes to claim, are there not...? Did not
Camlen fail in his role to Imperius a few members of Gringotts staff...? His daughters are of
a certain age... ah, next time, perhaps. Perhaps... while Narcissa continues to satisfy.
"Bella, dear, don't forget to send the message when Yaxley is finished with you, then return. I
have more work for you."

"Yes, M- M- My L-Lord," she gasped, panting, frenzied by the huge, burly wizard's furious
assault on her body. He knew, though, that she was just as mad for this as for causing pain.
She liked to be hurt, punished, just as much as she liked inflicting that pain on others. It was
one of his favorite things about her, which was why even though he'd mourned her lost
beauty already, he too had made use of her a few times in brutal ways.

Now, though, as much fun as this was, it was time to get back to work... as soon as he
finished.

"Deeper there, Narcissa... yes, all the way down..."

It was late, very late, when Harry staggered back into the Gryffindor Common Room.
Dumbledore had planned on showing Harry just one or two memories, planned on discussing
it in depth, but Harry had not been alone. Lyra had joined him, and between the two, they had
convinced the Headmaster to speed things along.

Not that Harry could fault the Succubus' argument. "While you drag this out, Headmaster,
people die. Is that what you want to be known for? Tell him, show us both, everything you
can."

They were, Harry had been told, about half-way through the lessons dealing with Voldemort
that Dumbledore had planned for the whole year, which left him rather annoyed with the
headmaster... but at the same time, he felt like he understood.

Why this, not combat magics, advanced dueling techniques, or the kind of magic
Dumbledore had demonstrated in the Ministry of Magic's atrium the previous year-end.

'Know thy Enemy', after all, was hardly an unknown saying to even wizard-kind.

Even if the revelations about Voldemort's true family, the Gaunts and the Riddles, had been
fascinating, enlightening, Harry still felt there was more to the story. Some core piece of a
larger puzzle that would prevent them from solving it all as things stood. "But," Lyra
murmured, "we have a solution to get it, if nothing else. And neither Dumbledore nor your
Dark Lord know the extent of my abilities, or our bond."

Harry's reply was interrupted by a soft tsk, followed by a quiet voice, "Damn... I stayed up all
night hoping to talk to you, Harry, and I find you've already been on a date."

"I'll leave you to it," Lyra murmured, making a point to lean up and press a quick kiss to
Harry's cheek which made his cock twitch in his trousers, then give a little wave to the blonde
girl whose head and shoulders had risen from where she had apparently been dozing on the
long, comfortable couch before the fire.

After she'd gone up the stairs to the girl's dormitory, for once, though Harry doubted the
Succubus would be doing any sleeping, he turned his attention back to the pretty Gryffindor
witch. "What can I do for you, Lavender?"

She shrugged, the movement barely noticeable in the scant light of the banked fireplace and
two candles, alone among dozens, in the far corners of the half-circle room. "I just wanted to
talk. I couldn't sleep, and... well, I remembered what... well, when we talked last year. I slept
well that night, especially considering..."

Harry frowned as he, too, remembered. "After the Ministry. Yeah... I remember. We can
talk... if you aren't too tired? I'm fine to do so."

Lavender hesitated, glancing toward the girl's dormitory even as she tried to stifle a yawn.
"I... I suppose. I'm surprised I dozed off here, I couldn't sleep a wink in the dorm."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

The girl shrugged, "Nightmares, probably. Come on, may's well sit down."

She waited until he'd joined her on the couch, her feet tucked up beneath her bum on one end,
he sitting a bit more casually, one leg bent on the couch and the other on the floor, before she
explained, "I keep seeing them.... our friends. Spinnet, Goldstein, Smith... and the Death
Eaters. I don't... regret anything that happened. I don't regret going, or... or fighting. I just
wish..."

"They'd... come back with us?"

Lavender nodded, staring into the coals a dozen feet away, but didn't say a word.

"I... I think I was the first one, on our side, to... kill," Harry whispered quietly.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny knew already, of course. He had few, if any, secrets from them.
Not really. And most of the D.A., including Lavender, had been told by Harry himself that
he'd killed Death Eaters that night, and wouldn't hesitate to do so again. But that was
announcing a fact to more than a hundred peers, and this...

The setting and tone, this late at night in the quiet Common room, was intimate, though not
sexual. A one-on-one discussion, and just saying the words felt strange and surreal to Harry
without even pondering the meaning behind them.

"I... would do it again, like I said last year in the last D.A. meeting. I... I suppose my
philosophy is this: Everyone starts with equal rights to live, to love, to find happiness, all
that. But if you... I don't know, use that freedom to infringe on someone else's rights, you...
forfeit yours. Or something. By killing children, even by trying to kill children, they gave up
that right to live in my book."

"You're really strong," Lavender murmured quietly after taking a few seconds to process what
Harry had said, "I don't know if I'd... if I could have done that. I fought, but I didn't- couldn't-
use spells I knew would... hurt them. I wanted to, but... I couldn't."

"That's strength too," Harry replied, "just of a different sort. You could say fighting back is
easier. Turning the other cheek, giving them another chance, that's Dumbledore's way. I'm...
sure, sometimes he gets flack for being weak, for giving supposedly irredeemable people
chance after chance to... turn over a new leaf, or whatever. But I respect him for it- admire
him for it, even."

"I guess," Lavender shrugged, "Anyway... so yeah, I had nightmares. I do a lot, but tonight I
just kept replaying them, everything from that night in my head, and I couldn't... fall asleep.
That's all. Talking about it has helped, though. Even just a little."

Harry nodded. A year ago, maybe even six months, he'd never have believed it. But his life
had taken a drastic, sudden change since then. First with Lilith in the late hours of the night,
and more recently with his friends, Harry had learned to open up. He no longer felt the need
to hide who he truly was. Not from Voldemort, or Professor Dumbledore, or anyone else.

Discretion was still useful, of course, but Harry wasn't afraid to tell people about himself, not
anymore. "I'm glad I could help, but I don't think I did much."

"You listened, and sometimes it only takes a few sentences to get your point across,"
Lavender said with a faint smile.

This time, Harry shrugged.

"Besides," the girl continued, "there's another reason I wanted to talk to you, too. Um... you
remember the train, right?"

Holding the girl's head against the wall of the baggage compartment while he hammered his
dick into her mouth, making her choke and gag, to make a half-hearted attempt at resisting
even while she urged him on with her hands on his arse, deeper and deeper, encouraging him
to be more rough, more demanding...

"I... do."

"You're shagging Hermione, right? And Lyra? Probably Weasley- Ginny?"

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, but he couldn't detect any accusation in Lavender's tone.
Slowly, he gave one jerky nod.

"I want in."

He blinked, "Er... what?"

"I want in," she repeated, pointing at herself, "I want into your little... group. I told you last
year, remember? You're a good bloke, and I wouldn't mind a turn. Only... It hasn't escaped my
notice, you know. Hermione's only in the dorm one night in three this year so far- that's twice,
and she's not there tonight. I checked in on Weasley and she's not there, either. Seamus told
me when I asked that you and Neville aren't there, or Ron, just as often. So you've got
something going on, some trysting spot or something. A place the staff, maybe, are letting
you do it. Well... I want in."

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair as he debated how much to tell the girl before
letting her try a night or so. "Lavender," he began with another pause and sigh, "this isn't
something you can just... volunteer for."

Her eyes narrowed in turn, "What? Am I not pretty enough?"

"No, that's not it," he hissed, "you're very pretty, and you know it. You're also a gossip, and
everyone knows it."

"So what if I am?" she replied with a frown, "Doesn't mean I'd go spreading your secrets.
Even Parvati doesn't know we talked last year, that we've even gotten a bit closer. She's put
some things together about Hermione, but honestly, Harry... we aren't babies anymore. We've
learned to keep secrets, too. No one else in your group, or you, will regret it if you say yes. I
only gossip about innocent stuff, anyway."

Harry tried to refute her, but try as he might over more than two minutes, he couldn't think of
an instance in the last couple of years where someone had been annoyed at her for spreading
rumors or gossip, as they were more wont to do in the first few years of their Hogwarts
education. "Fine," he muttered, "that's one point in your favor, but I'd need a pretty damned
strong vow for this. And it's not just up to me. If you want in... you'll have to get the approval
of every member of the group, and no, I'm not telling you who they are before you are either
in or out. I'll do the asking."

"Alright," she agreed easily, leaning back a bit to more closely mirror his position, "that's
fair."

"Okay. Then, uh... you should probably get to bed."

"No," Lavender giggled, "I don't think I should just yet. We have one other teensy matter to
discuss."

One of Harry's eyebrows rose, though he frowned when the girl giggled, glancing at his
crotch, "Not that... much as it's tempting, it is late. No, I just have one more question. When-
when we do it, can you... keep it a secret about how I... like it?"

Confused, Harry nodded without really understanding what she meant.

The witch, though, clarified on her own as she stood up, then took the few steps necessary to
lean down and whisper into Harry's ear, "I like it rough... I want to be taken sometimes, you
know? But you don't need to tell the other girls that. Keep that a secret, and you can do
whatever you want with me. I won't complain."

Then, before he could do more than adjust himself in his trousers again, she was walking
away through the Gryffindor girl's dormitory door without him.

"Lilith," Harry groaned, "I sure as hell hope you're here..."

"I am, Master," she whispered, the invisible body already settling into his lap, "Why... did the
witch get you all hot and bothered...? Should I take care of you, Master...?"

"Yes, please," Harry groaned, even as he felt her knickers melt away beneath the still
invisible school-skirt, her nimble fingers pulling on his zipper. Once he was free, Lilith, juicy
and as ready as he was, lowered Lyra's familiar body onto him in one smooth motion that
made Harry sigh in both pleasure and relief. "Seventeen... fucking... hours... gods, I needed
pussy bad..."

"My pussy needed you too, Master," Lyra moaned as she started to bounce, hard and fast,
over him. She leaned down, heavy breasts still in her student's blouse and bra-clad, but
swinging against Harry's face as her hips rose and fell rapidly, not just moving his dick in and
out, but pulling it out and up as she withdrew, then pushing down on the return.

There wasn't much love-making in that particular session, both knew Harry's need was too
great. Yet, just a few minutes later after he had exploded in rapture again, Lyra, with Harry's
still-hard penis inside her, lay down over him on the couch and continued moving and
writhing her hips, grinding her clit against his pelvis while they began a slow, sensual kiss.

"Potter! Sendai- what the hell are you two doing in the Common Room? Shit, I hope you two
are on the Potion, or I'm going straight to Madame Pomfrey- and Professor McGonagall!"

Harry, perhaps predictably, froze, arms wrapped around Lyra's hips, her shirt having much
ridden up, but Lyra did not. Instead, she only lifted her torso until she was sitting astride him,
eyes once more glowing bright, cherry-blossom pink. "McLaggen, wasn't it...?"

Harry's blood pressure plummeted, though he was still hard inside the Succubus, her inner
walls now milking him inhumanly, tugging at his length in rings of muscle no normal girl or
woman could reproduce. McLaggen, he knew, was a seventh-year, and the epitome of
everything bad about Gryffindor- brutish, thuggish even, unthinking, overly prideful... those
were kind ways of thinking about it.

"I come back from a- a patrol, and I find you two shagging on the couch? It doesn't matter
what my name is! I should report you!"

"But you won't," Lyra cooed, eyes shining as she turned to look at him over the back of the
couch and started undulating on Harry again.

"And why not?" the hulking older wizard growled, stepping closer, "This sort of thing- you
could cost us the House Cup in one go!"

"Like you?" Lyra then smiled, "and Miss Collins? Audrey's a nice girl, but what you did to
her wasn't very nice. You could have asked..."

"Wh- what are you t- talking about?" Cormac muttered, suddenly sounding less sure, "I don't
even know who that- that is."

"A Ravenclaw," Lyra said, voice still light and sweet, "the one you forced to swallow you not
fifteen minutes ago. But don't worry... I have more enticements than that."

Harry frowned. Forced her...? Audrey Collins was a nice girl, the seventh-year Prefect, and
someone who could've been Head Girl this year. Smart, friendlier than most Ravenclaws-
even Luna liked her, and there weren't many in the spacy girl's House that she did like.
"Come here, stud," Lyra whispered, followed by an even brighter flash in her eyes. "That's
it... I can suck a cock much better than she can... let me show you. Don't tell the Professors,
and I'll suck you off whenever you want..."

"Er... y- yeah," McLaggen murmured, and Harry saw him, tie half-undone, already fishing a
half-stiffy out of his trousers as he stepped around the couch and presented himself to Lyra,
who hadn't stopped riding Harry.

In fact, she sped up once more, and left one hand on Harry's chest while the other wrapped
gently around McLaggen's own member... and the boy went stiff, motionless.

"Mm... going to cum again soon, Master," Lyra murmured, turning her attention back to
Harry, "he'll be a good boy for now... he's not bad in the cock department, but I never did like
his attitude. Fuck me while he watches... show him what he's going to be missing out on for a
long, long time..."

Harry grinned, "R- Really? What did you do to him? Not that I'm complaining..." Then he
started to push up into her with abandon, not caring that it was after one, suddenly not tired at
all. All that mattered was enjoying his Succubus, and punishing this arsehole for forcing a
girl to blow him.

"New- New power," Lilith grunted, air being forced from her lungs by his renewed pumps
into her depths, "Libido Theft. Just... just e- earned... earned it! He'll- as- as long as I use- use
it on- him- f- fuuck, Harry!"

He felt Lyra's walls clench around him, another burst of lubricant speeding his motions, but
Harry wasn't done. Instead, to give her a moment to recover, Harry sat upright and spun on
the couch so he was leaning back against it, then lifted Lyra, spinning her around, and letting
her slowly come back down onto him to provide poor McLaggen with the best view, reverse
cowgirl, of Lyra's body while he used her.

After a few more seconds as he started to move, Lyra picked back up, "Gods, Harry... you're
so damned good! A- Anyway, if I use the- the power every day or three- it'll- keep him from-
getting- getting it up, at all."

"Ever?"

She twisted to nibble on his ear while her body moved against him, both now sweating
heavily through their uniforms, "As long- as it's- a- active!"

"Excellent. Thrall him. Make him useful, for once."

"Y- Yes, M- Masteeeerrr!"

Harry felt that the whole Tower must have heard Lyra's shrieks as she climaxed with him,
such was the force of his own.

Once he was slowly softening, Lyra rose off him, turned to kiss Harry again, and frowned,
"To completely Thrall him I'll need to blow him once... are you sure? It has to be partially
reciprocal. I can make it the last one, though, as long as he keeps wanting more."

Harry frowned, glancing up at McLaggen, then nodded. "Do I need to watch?"

"No."

"Okay... I'll think about it, but not for now. See you tomorrow then, Lyra."

"Good night, Master," she winked, and turned to the task at hand, never fully sated.

Harry, though tempted to watch for Lyra's performance skills, still chose to head to bed. Tired
or not, he needed to sleep sometime, even if just for a few hours.
 How to Influence Friends...

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 35: How to Influence Friends...

As usual Sunday morning, or any morning, really, these days, Harry woke with his morning
erection in someone's mouth, and he rolled his hips, half-asleep for a few more moments, to
give them better access, then stretched his right hand to rest it behind his head, the other
seeking out the source of the warmth.

He expected Lilith's soft, tender body, and smiled when she lay down against him, using the
arm beneath his head as a pillow, then frowned slightly when she kissed his cheek. The
familiar smell of bubblegum, present even in Lyra's body, told him the girl on his right, close
to the wall, was her. Which meant...

Harry cracked an eye.

Hermione Granger was doing the deed, one hand holding her hair behind her right ear, the
other holding his shaft upright while she plied her great talent for his pleasure. She was
dressed casually in a halter-top and khaki shorts, but he could tell in that first glance that they
had been pushed down well below what would hide her glorious rump while the brilliant
witch bent over his bedside.

A further glance, just for safety, told Harry that it was just after dawn, later than he'd
expected to rise, and that Ron was awake, too, sitting on the edge of the bed with his sock-
clad feet on the still cold stone floor, tugging on his own impressive dick while he watched
Hermione's show.

I don't care if I have a Succubus, or every beautiful witch in the Castle- being woken up by a
blow-job from Hermione is still an amazing way to wake up, Harry thought both to himself
and Lilith. She sent a rush of arousal and affection back toward him, along with a mish-mash
of blurred, rapid-fire images, wavy and indistinct. Each of them, though, Harry could tell
were of him- except he knew it wasn't him at all, for he felt the weight of his breasts
swinging, the fluid dripping from his aching, overheated snatch- as he took first Harry's own
cock in her mouth, then Ron's, then... others.
Holy shit, that's... a lot. Is- what was that?

This time, Lilith as Lyra actually whispered in his ear, "Dreams, Master... Dreams I've been
feeding this lovely witch for a few months off and on, and nightly since we arrived at
Hogwarts. Why waste her talents, you know?"

And Hermione was indeed talented. Even from the side, the girl seemed to have no issue
taking three quarters or more of him into her mouth and down her throat, and remembered all
the while to let her tongue swirl and waft over his flesh while she deep-throated him quickly
without a hint of gagging. And her hand had quickly moved from holding his base to his
scrotum, where she lightly massaged and kneaded his tender, swollen balls, rolling them back
and forth, giving the softest of squeezes.

Harry sighed, feeling his climax approaching.

But Hermione had other ideas. Smoothly, she pulled away, the hand switching to pump at
him while she leaned further down and pulled one of his testicles into her mouth through the
soft, moist lips and licked at that in turn.

"Oh, God," he moaned, throwing his head back into the pillow and grasping Lyra's body
tightly against him. Then he sat up, holding Hermione lightly by the shoulders, and pushed
her back and down while he spun to mirror Ron's position.

Obediently, her own chocolate brown eyes glistening with enjoyment, Hermione sank to her
knees and started her work again.

Lyra meanwhile, moved to her knees behind Harry and pressed her body against him. Her
arms circling his chest, and began to nibble on his neck and ear; whispering words of
encouragement to Hermione, who began to move faster and faster, taking more of Harry with
every second or third bob.

"Jizz on her tits, Harry" Lyra cooed, not quite whispering.

Without hesitation, without word of warning, Hermione pulled away, reached down, and
lifted the halter and her bra off in one motion, throwing them carelessly onto Harry's bed
before diving down again.

"Ye- yeah, Harry," Ron murmured quietly, standing up slowly, and walking across the room
to sink onto the bed next to him, eyes locked on their mutual girl's mouth as she gave Harry
the best deep-throat he'd had from her yet.

"Cumming" he grunted.

With laughter and pleasure awash in the older girl's eyes, she leaned back, releasing Harry
with a pop from her mouth, and angled him a bit more down, her hand now moving furiously
along his saliva-slick length.

Once his climax was over, Harry exhaled slowly in relief, amazed at how much of
Hermione's hair and broad, curved chest he'd covered. Her neck and face... even one jet
across her long eyelashes, which she carefully picked out and used two fingers to put into her
mouth.

Then, without another word, she sidled over and repeated the process on Ron.

Harry was still just as transfixed as, already loosened and stretched by Harry's wider girth,
she immediately sank to the base of Ron's long shaft. The taller boy leaned back onto his
elbows, moaning quietly.

Lyra in turn moved around Harry gracefully to kneel where Hermione had just been, and
started cleaning him carefully and methodically, then started bobbing as well once he quickly
returned to full strength.

Harry smiled at the look of rapture on Ron's face as the witch got him off, and enjoyed how
Hermione's eyes almost rolled back in her head as he realized she was thrumming her pussy
wildly while servicing him, her own expression one of bliss as well.

It was Hermione who cleaned Ron, who was still hard himself.

But she turned deep scarlet, from embarrassment rather than lust, as a quiet voice coughed
from Harry's left.

"Er... s- sorry, I... could I get some... uh..."

Harry quickly, unbidden, followed Neville's gaze down to his tented pyjamas.

Hermione quickly threw her arms over her chest, then shifted one to her crotch, though
Neville was clearly to her side, and hissed, "You said they wouldn't be awake!"

Lyra pulled off Harry with a rather pleased grin, "No, you asked if they were awake. I didn't
answer your question. I said something unrelated entirely: 'They won't bother us.' Are you
bothered, Harry? Ron?"

The two boys shared a look, Harry more questioning.

Ron, after a few moments, shrugged, "Not... bothered, no. Suck him, Hermione... Suck him
like you did us."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed reproachfully, but Harry nodded.

"You know you want to," he murmured.

Again, she flushed. "That... that's not the... not the point."

"I can do it," Lyra shrugged, "If you aren't up for it. Harry's about finished."

He knew that Lilith knew full well that wasn't true. She could get him off if she wanted to-
she was that good- but he was holding back on purpose, so it would be a longer contest than
normal.
"N- no," Hermione murmured, then looked up at her boys, "I... I can do it. If- if you both
want...?"

Harry shrugged, glancing at the needy boy, "He's one of us now. Anytime you want,
Hermione."

She looked to Ron, next, who hesitated a moment longer, then nodded, "He's one of us. But
we always get firsts."

"Always," Hermione whispered, eyes swimming with lust, yes… but also adoration and love.

Then she stood, glanced down at Lyra, "You'd better keep the others from waking up," and
walked over to Neville, sinking down to her knees closer to the middle of the room, and
lifting a hand to beckon him off his bed.

Once rotund and even pudgy, Neville was now lean and tall. Almost as tall as Ron and more
muscular than either he or Harry, the wizard quickly threw his legs off the bed and stood,
pushing his pyjamas down to his knees as he reached the girl, who opened her mouth almost
tentatively.

Hermione, as she sucked, almost seemed to fall into a trance, though when he checked, Harry
couldn't see any hint of pink that might show Lyra was using a power in her eyes. Instead,
jaw opening wide and full lips spreading to accommodate the other wizard's girth, she started
blowing him deeply too, sawing back and forth from tip to base almost at once.

That was when Lyra moved over to start sucking on Ron, leaving Harry hanging. As she
moved, the Succubus whispered, "None of them were asleep when you first finished, Harry."

That was also when Dean Thomas' curtains opened, and the boy, already naked as the day he
was born, stepped from the bed, eyes slightly glazed, and stood next to Neville.

Harry knew, intellectually, that he was bigger now, but seeing the massive cock that sprung
out from Dean's dark groin made him worry for Hermione's health.

And, distracted by the Succubus' incredible oral skills, Ron didn't dare protest as Neville
finished in Hermione's mouth, too.

Harry actually stood up as Neville ejaculated into her waiting orifice, and put a hand on
Hermione's bare shoulder. "Do what you want, love," he murmured softly, watching from
above as she blinked, shivered, then reached out a hand that seemed so tiny in comparison.

Dean didn't say anything, merely accepted the hand-job silently. Then Harry heard the girl
whisper, "More," before she turned on her knees and leaned forward. The dark-skinned boy
groaned as his deep brown meat vanished into Hermione's throat, but Harry could only watch
in awe as, struggling just a bit, she forced it deeper and deeper.

After just a few minutes, Harry watched as the thick meat pulsed, moments before he heard
Hermione start gulping audibly to get the tall black boy's essence into her mouth without
spilling any.
"Oi," another voice interrupted as the final curtain in the room opened, "'Oose gonna take
care o' me shillelagh?"

This time, Ron having just climaxed with Lyra again, he started speaking up, but the faux
half-asian put a finger on his lips, "I will, if Harry doesn't object? He's the one whose opinion
matters to me, after all."

Seamus wasn't one of Harry's closest friends, not by any means. But it would be rude,
wouldn't it...? "Do it if you want," he shrugged, " Hermione's getting tired, and we should get
to breakfast."

"Blimey," Seamus muttered as he threw himself from the bed as quickly as he could, "I can'
believe ya got two fine things like 'Ermione and Lyra to do this, Harry! Fekkin' brill."

Harry grinned as his last roommate rested his hands on Lyra's head and started moving back
and forth gently while the Succubus in human form used all her wiles to get him addicted to
the activity as quickly as possible. He, meanwhile, helped a weak-kneed Hermione to her
feet, wrapping an arm around her belly and breasts, heedless of the jizz that coated her from
all four of the other boys to some extent. "So, gents, here's the rule: Lyra? She's a slag, tried
and true, but I got her under a sort of contract. She's for our- our dorm- and our dorm only
unless I say so. Right, Lyra?"

"That's right," the girl pulled off Seamus just enough to say cheerfully, "what Harry says
goes."

"And what Harry says," the wizard in question said with a grin, enjoying just the feel of
Hermione's half-naked body against his as she fought to catch her breath still, enjoying how
the other boys were looking at the human girl with undisguised lust even while Lyra kept
blowing Seamus. "Is that Lyra has a set of... let's call them priorities. Me first, then Ron, then
Neville. If she's not occupied with us, you can ask her for some fun. If she says yes, enjoy it.
If she says no... that's it. Better luck next time. I ever find out you forced her- or any girl- and
we'll have more than words. But you can have all the fun with her you want otherwise. Any
day of the week."

Ron, no doubt, had sussed out Harry's intentions, and grinned even while Dean started
stroking himself back to hard, no doubt wanting to take advantage of the offer again before
breakfast. Neville, though he looked a bit green, gave a shaky sort of smile himself before
nodding and adding, "Er, H- Hannah al- already knows about, uh... L- Lyra."

Does she now, Harry wondered, but what about Hermione...?

Still, he only nodded, "Now, if you gents will excuse me, I'm gonna go make sure Hermione
is... presentable for breakfast."

She seemed almost dazed as he walked the bookish girl who'd just blown all but one of his
roommates in the same morning, plus himself, into the shower, still clad only in her open
blouse and skirt without, he suspected, knickers.
Ron looked, for a moment, as if he wanted to join her and Harry, but grinned as he glanced
back toward the more buxom Lyra, stepping toward her so that the girl could lift a hand and
add it to his own around his member.

After removing the rest of Hermione's clothes for her, Harry guided the witch into the nearest
shower stall, but didn't immediately turn on the water. The sounds the boys were making a
dozen feet away, more or less, were driving him to prolong the current experience, no matter
how tired Hermione was. Besides, he thought with a smile as he turned her to face him, she'll
enjoy it anyway.

"A secret," he whispered, then let his body fall along hers, lips grazing over her flesh and the
seminal fluid of several boys though he didn't take any into his mouth as far as Harry could
taste, until he was on his knees between her feet.

He didn't say anything else as he inhaled the familiar, clover-honey scent of Hermione's
desperate arousal. Instead, he took a second long pull before moving in with lips and tongue,
his hands only loosely tracing her thighs, in and out, or moving up and down the girl's sides.

When she climaxed, it was fast and hard, but short, and Harry felt another wash of the same
fulfilling, satisfying energy he'd received when Lilith had tricked him- though it hadn't taken
much to do so- into eating out his mother's cunt.

After the tingling had subsided, Harry stood back up just as slowly to find Hermione, still
seeming quite dazed, smiling stupidly down at him. Yet, as he stepped into her and aligned
himself to enter her depths, only reaching around to turn the spray on after he'd pushed all the
way inside, there was a soft tremble in her lips.

As they started moving together, Hermione whispered, "Am I your slag too, Harry? Is... am I
just a slag who loves to suck cock? Should... should I forget school? I sometimes feel like I
want to. It's so much effort, and blowing everyone is... it's so easy. Every time it's easier,
and... and this was... I don't know. Gods, that feels good, Harry."

"It feels amazing, as always, Hermione," he returned softly, wondering himself where her
feelings were coming from, but feeling as if he agreed in some way even without that
knowledge. Had he, himself, not questioned that same thing? Both, he knew, had wondered if
endless sex, in all its varieties, was all that mattered to him, or them, anymore.

But Harry knew it wasn't, so even as he made love to his best friend, alone for the first time
in what felt like ages, he shook his head and pressed his lips to hers briefly before answering
quietly, "No. It's just... new. We're teenagers, we're supposed to be randy."

Even as her body started moving more energetically against his, sliding over him with the aid
of soap she started to apply beneath the hot water while he filled then emptied her slowly,
Hermione gave a little snort and shook her head, "You can't be that daft, Harry. Yes,
hormones are rampant, of course. But this...? Most sixteen year old girls don't just give
blowjobs to five blokes in one morning, no matter how well they know some of them."

He nodded, swallowing. "Do you... regret it?"

"No," Hermione shook her head, pushing their shared washcloth between them to lather her
breasts, stomach, and then his chest, "That's just it- I don't regret it, but I feel like I should.
It's... it's not something I'd do every day, but I really like it, and... and I worry there's
something wrong with me. What will it be like next weekend, when... when I get my Runes?
Will I forget about study, my mind, everything I want to do in the world?"

"No, you won't," he reassured her softly, "It won't be like that. Neville is still his old self-
though with a bit of confidence. Ron's mostly the same, it's just that he's more open about
what he's thinking. I don't feel like I've changed too much... aside from the powers I've gotten
from the Contract."

"Hah... you've changed a lot, Harry," Hermione murmured, continuing her work but pulling
off of Harry's shaft to turn around and bend, holding herself up with one arm on the wall so
that she could wash her legs while he entered her from behind, "not that- gods, you're big- not
that I'm complaining. I just... worry that I'll lose myself, somehow."

"You won't," Harry promised her, "and if you start, Ron, Ginny, and I will be there to pull you
back. Just like I- we- rely on you."

"Mm. I suppose you're right. I'm just being si- silly. Unh... har- harder, Harry... make me cum.
I want to, s- so bad. Y- yes... yes... yesss!"

Harry held her rump against his abdomen while he climaxed after her, then slowly, as he
came down, finished the job of cleaning them both before turning the water off and reaching
for a few towels.

It wasn't yet four when Harry closed his Herbology textbook and blew off the last bit of ink
spots from his essay, "That's me done for the week."

He, Ron, Hermione, Lyra- of course just as put-together as ever despite being 'entertained' by
their dorm-mates for more than an hour all told- were arrayed around the private quarters'
common room, and even Hermione had several books open still, since she'd elected to take a
nap immediately after breakfast, for reasons she refused to explain to Ginny.

"I still have twenty-one inches," the red-haired girl complained with a frown, "seven more
due tomorrow. Fifth year sucks."

Hermione blushed.

Harry and Ron shared a grin, but the dark haired wizard commiserated, "Sorry. What class?
Maybe I can help."

Ginny scowled down at her books, "Potions of course. Slughorn's a far better teacher than
Snape ever was, but I'm afraid I'll never be as good as Mum. She was tops in her year, seems
to think I should be brilliant at it just because she is."

"Mm." Harry frowned. It wasn't his worst subject any longer, not by a long shot- that would
always remain a toss-up between History of Magic and Divination he felt- but even Snape's
terrible teaching style and outright vindictive, cruel behavior toward especially Harry couldn't
remove all his knowledge of the subject, and what might just be, according to Slughorn, an
inheritance of his mother's talent.

As well, more than a month of learning under Professor Black, who he now knew to be the
mother of the Auror known as Tonks, and now a week under Slughorn himself had helped
immensely. More so, the cribbed notes in his loaned copy of Advanced Potion Making, and
his now semi-regular teaming up with one Daphne Greengrass.

"Okay, so what Potion are you covering?"

Ginny continued to scowl, though her demeanor relaxed slightly, "Calming Draught. Sluggy
says it's in preparation to do the Draught of Peace next month."

Harry nodded, "Yeah... I remember that one. Where's your issue?"

"I don't have an issue," Ginny muttered quietly, "I just... don't want to do it. I want to do...
other things."

Harry cottoned on at once, and he smiled, leaning in to whisper in the girl's ear, "Ah. Well...
as I don't think our friends would appreciate it if we distracted them by a round or two, let me
make you a deal. If you get it done in, say... an hour, I'll... Hmm... what's fair... I'll make sure
you're satisfied, Runes or not, tonight."

Ginny blushed and Harry, watching closely, could see the girl's nipples pucker despite being
concealed by both, presumably a bra and shirt. She glanced around the room to see that none
of the others were paying attention, then nodded almost shyly and whispered back, "Deal."

A few minutes later, Harry excused himself to 'use the loo' in his bedroom. He did, but
afterward made a slight detour to his trunk, where he fished out two objects, hiding both,
shrunken and in their individual carrying cases, in his pockets. One box had been nearly a
cube, a slightly taller rectangular shape, and the other was long and thin, nearly the
dimensions of a wand box, but he knew that when expanded, both were significantly larger.

Harry grinned once more to himself as he stepped out into the common area. As the others,
even Lyra, were hard at work on one assignment or another, he casually strode around the
couches to the door on the opposite side, "I'm gonna go have some fun with Romilda. You
guys can join when you're done."

Ron was the first to groan, but Harry ignored his friends' objections and began whistling a
jaunty tune, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Every hour or two throughout each day since she'd been 'captured', Lilith had been untying
and then making use of the insensate fifth-year's body in one way or another. Sometimes,
they exchanged oral sex, and others, Lilith, or Lyra, would grow out her penis and rut away
with abandon, or take a little time to make sure both truly enjoyed it. Then she would change
the girl's position, moving her around the room and tying her down once more. The straps, he
knew, were never truly tight, nowhere near enough to cut off circulation, but Romilda, no
matter how sex-crazed she was, never tried to escape from where she was placed. To test the
theory, just that lunchtime Harry had left one arm loose in a single strap and placed the other
on the bed, not tightening either one.

Romilda had climbed onto the bed and spread her legs eagerly for him while hanging off the
edge, but her hand had not moved an inch from that spot even as he'd mounted her for his
normal noon 'repast'. It seemed there was a powerful mental effect which caused her, if he
wasn't wrong, to see any 'bondage' as for her benefit, no matter how slack it was, and she
didn't even think about taking it off.

That was why he wasn't surprised to find the girl's position different than when he'd entered
at lunchtime.

The girl was hanging from the ceiling, suspended by more than thirty intricate knots hooked
up to a new addition of perhaps nine hooks in all. Together, they kept the teen witch's knees
bent so that her ankles were beneath her rear, but spread apart widely enough that Romilda
may as well have been doing the splits in both directions. Her arms, too, were in an unusual
formation, behind her back and tied together, as she slowly turned, with wrists matching the
opposite elbow just above her rather flat, boyish hind end. Those bindings and what held her
aloft accounted for perhaps twenty of the knots. The rest, and at least a dozen feet of the thin
rope, squeezed tightly at her body in several ways that caught Harry's interest immediately.

Two loops wrapped around the base of her breasts, squeezing out the majority of them so that
they resembled Lyra's full, round pair rather than her own slightly saggy, much smaller ones,
though each was red and almost purpling with pressure and blood. The ropes did a
complicated figure-eight around them, but also looped around the back of her neck to pull the
masses up, and linked again to more lines between Romilda's elbows, then down in a V
toward her groin, where each side flanked the girl's genitals, which were, as usual, puffy and
inflamed, full of desire that literally dripped from her every few seconds onto a towel on the
wooden floor.

Finally, a single rope hung down between the two teens, which Harry guessed was magically
held in place, as all of Romilda's weight seemed to run across the rigging to a single pulley
and then over to the dangling line, which seemed attached to exactly nothing. Then again, he
mused, magic. Sticking charms aren't hard. Even Lyra could probably use a self-sticking
rope, and who knows what you can get mail-ordered with my money when I'm not paying
attention?

Still, Harry had work to do. He quietly pulled the larger box from his pocket and tapped the
tip of his wand to it, then moved over to the couch, which still remained despite him having
conjured it nearly a week ago. He pulled out a camera, more modern in design than Collin
Creevey's by at least fifty years, though it was still obsolete, for it resembled an old-fashioned
Polaroid, the kind that 'developed' after coming out from a slot in the camera itself.

"Romilda," he spoke casually as he turned around and hefted the device, "you don't mind if I
take a few pictures, right? You're pretty enough."

He blinked a moment later, for the girl spoke for the first time in a couple of days. "Shaaag,"
she murmured, voice slurred and mumbling but easily understood.
"Ah, we will," Harry promised, "but you want to give me sexy pictures, right?"

She didn't say anything else, but Harry could see her dark eyes tracking him as she slowly
spun. He hadn't in all honesty, bought the camera for Romilda. No, it was for the benefit of
his entire circle of friends. Yet, Harry could see how getting a bit of insurance- photographic
insurance- could help if he ever got in trouble. Not that he wanted to commit blackmail, of
course, or that Vane was exceptionally good looking. She was pretty enough, but Harry had
access to more and better if looks were a factor.

No... he wanted to do it for practice, now that he'd thought of it. Better to learn the ropes on
someone... less deserving. Right?

He started slowly, taking pictures as Romilda simply turned in the air, then moving around
her himself in search of new angles as he grew more comfortable with the camera's simple
controls: zoom, lighting, and click. The first two, he quickly learned, were nearly unlimited.
By holding the lever in one direction or another he could zoom in to see the girl's otherwise
clean skin flake, or until she was tiny and warped. Or make the screen utterly dark or bright,
pure white though the room itself was lit only by the usual four ever-burning torches in the
corners.

Then he started moving in and out for more unusual angles. Above, and below. Eventually, he
added his own left hand, squeezing a teat, pinching a nipple.

Hermione and Ron came in together, the older witch stifling a yawn rather poorly, just as
Harry reached out a hand to spread one arse cheek.

"Figured you'd be balls-deep," Ron said, nonplussed, "I've got a powerful need myself. You
up for it, Hermione?"

Slightly pink, the girl nodded, though Harry couldn't see it. Her words, though, said
something different. "Er... I am, but I... can we watch this for a bit? It looks like Harry's
having fun."

The wizard in question looked over his shoulder with a satisfied smile, "Romilda's getting
desperate, I think."

The red-head smiled and stepped forward, but only once, before his face fell. "Er... I don't
want to, um... well... Hermione's right here, you know?"

Harry blinked. "Oh, yeah, I... yeah. I didn't even think about how that'd..." How would their
shared girlfriend take it if he'd been shagging Romilda when they walked in? What about
Ron, whom she seemed to favor just a little more? Not that Harry felt left out.

But Hermione only rolled her eyes, then held out a hand. "Camera, please. You can have a
go, Ron. I'll... commemorate the occasion. After all, it's not like... not like I'm exclusive, not
after this morning, and I already know you've been shagging her."

Still, with a magnanimous expression, Ron reminded her, "Yeah, but you only used your
mouth, so that's all I'll do with Romilda. Er... how d'we get her down?"
Harry reached for the rope with the same hand, and it came free at his touch, though
Romilda's weight didn't fall onto him. Instead, she sank slowly as he lifted, until her knees
were on the floor. "Cock…" Romilda grunted, "Cock, cock, cock!"

Hermione's mouth widened, but Ron, with another glance in the still clothed girl's direction,
reached for his trousers and freed the gangly beast within. "Er... you really don't mind?"

"Not as long as I get mine later," Hermione said firmly.

Harry, throbbing himself but just as clothed as the witch, followed her around as she took her
own turn snapping one picture after another of Ron as he let Romilda, using only her mouth
and tongue, worship his great length, growing progressively more aggressive until she was
fighting to take all of him, rising until she was standing on her knees and then back down,
almost throwing herself down, yanking up, and repeating over and over.

Ron, after several minutes, yanked his dick out and sprayed over Romilda's face and gaping
mouth, then aimed down to paint her front, too.

"So hot…" Hermione murmured.

Harry had to agree. While he didn't find Ron attractive in any way, watching his best mate
ejaculate over another very willing female was always erotic and lust-inducing.

Ron looked their way. "Go on," Hermione urged him quietly, "keep going... I know you can
keep going. Fuck her in the throat, Ron. Use her like the little whore she is... punish her
mouth."

Hearing Hermione, of all people, use that sort of language sent a shiver down Harry's spine,
around between his legs, and straight up his already pounding erection. Carefully, making
sure to keep his eyes on the action, Harry divested himself of his clothing and moved across
the room to gather a few more of the implements hanging on the wall-racks opposite the
door.

When he turned around, he blushed. Hermione wasn't taking pictures of Ron and Romilda-
she'd clearly been watching him walk away, quite nude, and smiled as she took another.
Minx... But he sauntered back toward her gamely, whipping a riding crop against one open
palm, a long, jet-black feather from an Augury's tail beneath one arm. "Get your pictures
while you can, Hermione... sooner or later, I'll have you tied up like this."

"I'm looking forward to trying it," she shot back gamely, "Besides, if you're going to spread
pictures around, you may as well make the girls happy too, right?"

Harry grinned, "I hadn't thought of that, but you're right, of course. Shoot all you want."

Then the crop lashed, not too hard but enough to raise a thin pink line, over Romilda's back.
She cried out against Ron's dick, and he groaned.

They were similarly engaged, Ron now rutting furiously into Romilda's mouth with his hands
on her head to hold her still, Harry either fingering her furiously with one hand or whipping
her with the other, when Lyra followed Ginny into the room, the Succubus already making
her 'clothes' vanish, and the witch with her blouse half-unbuttoned. "Damn it Ron, I don't
need to see your dick," she muttered.

"Don't look then," he growled.

None of them, not even Ron, neglected to notice that she didn't look away.

Instead, Ginny finished unbuttoning her shirt and let it hang open, unclasped her bra and let it
hang open too, before pushing her skirt down and stepping out. Still in her knickers and socks
with the top hanging over her shoulders, the girl immediately started rubbing circles around
her crotch and gripped one breast beneath her shirt as she came to stand next to Harry.

It wasn't hard to follow her gaze to where Ron continually speared Romilda, nor did Harry,
just inches away, miss the slight drool that was leaking from Ginny's mouth as she watched,
touching herself lightly.

No one said anything for quite a while as Lyra moved behind Hermione and pressed herself
into the witch, letting her hands begin to rove sensually over clothing. Ron climaxed again,
forcing himself to the hilt in the younger girl's mouth and throat, groaning as he leaned over
her, helpless to resist. Still bound, Romilda didn't even try.

Once he pulled himself free, Lyra asked softly, "Hermione... want to see Ron do that to
Romilda's skanky cunt?"

'Y- yeah, I do," she murmured, the camera still whirring and clicking away.

Harry obligingly reached for the rope again and hauled the girl, who may as well have
weighed a single kilo, back to her position in the air again. "Go ahead Ron."

Again, the four of them watched as the ginger, still unflagging, reached out his hands to turn
Romilda, who was panting for air but also quivering for more, always more, and pushed up
into her from behind.

Again, Ginny watched with him as Ron lanced in and out. Harry occasionally gave Romilda
a lash or two, but he was distracted as Hermione gave a loud moan, and looked up to see Lyra
with her hands on the girl's hips, her skirt hiked upward. "You like Lyra's girl-dick huh?"

"F-f-feels go-good," Hermione moaned, still trying to take pictures and having a much harder
time of it with Lyra sliding in and out of her own pussy.

"Take over the cameraPet," he ordered Ginny quietly, "I'm going to get some drink on me for
you to taste later."

Ginny, red-faced, still seemed strangely happy as she took over the object from Hermione,
turning her full attention to her brother shagging away at the helpless sex-slave, showing a
surprisingly deft hand and an eye for angles. Meanwhile, Harry himself crossed to Hermione
and took a handful of her hair, urging her head down. "Service me, slutty little Hermione.
Service me like you serviced all the blokes in my dorm."
Hermione whimpered, but she obeyed, even with Lyra fucking her from behind. She leaned
down, taking Harry at once, and he groaned- it'd been six hours or more, and that was hard to
handle, these days.

For a few seconds, the siblings and slave behind him fell from Harry's mind as he focused on
his Succubus and the girl between them, leaning over Hermione's back to give Lyra a
passionate kiss that she returned fervently. "Give me her pussy, Pet," he murmured after they
separated, smirking as the half-asian creature licked up a line of saliva they'd left, "take her
cute little arse."

"Wh- wha?"

That was as far as Hermione got before the well-lubricated cock filled her rear hole, and she
gasped. The chocolate brown eyes rolled up in her head as Lyra lifted her torso up, then
reached down to take up one knee, then the other, until Hermione was suspended in Lyra's
arms knees at about her shoulders.

Harry grinned, stepped in, and lifted the skirt high to reveal no knickers and a newly-trimmed
thatch of hair with the same lightning-bolt pattern she'd cut previously. Then he stepped
further, and thrust.

Even stretched by Lyra and more than ready, Hermione was surprisingly tight with the other
penis in her body, and Harry groaned once more as he entered her. While Lyra was rougher,
harder, more demanding, from behind, Harry made love to his girl from the front, though
only for about two minutes before he pulled away. "Lyra... you can have her again, just make
sure she enjoys it, yeah?"

Then he turned away, glistening and dripping with Hermione's recent climax, and stepped
toward Ginny, who was holding the camera beneath Romilda's suspended groin, fingering
herself while she watched Ron fill the well-used hole. Without a word, he tapped her
shoulder and Ginny turned, then smiled, and opened wide.

As he enjoyed her less talented but eager fellatio, too, Harry finally let himself build toward
climax, but he wasn't done yet. After he was certain Ginny had cleaned all of Hermione's
juice off himself, he pulled away. "Like the taste Pet?"

"Gods yes," Ginny murmured.

"Good. Ron, use her hard. I'm going to show this slag how deep our girl can take it."

"Er, okay, Harry."

Romilda's mouth was wide and eager, but her throat still tight as he entered her. Like Ron on
her other end, Harry hammered hard and fast, stroking deeply enough it felt like he was
nearing the girl's stomach with every thrust. "Get a picture of her belly swollen with his
cock," he ordered, and Ginny obeyed, then backed away to get a few pictures of Romilda
taking both young wizards.
As she turned to get a few of Lyra and Hermione together, Harry debated just finishing there,
but no... more poetic to do this in one go. After he'd felt Romilda somehow climax again, he
pulled out once more. "Have fun, Ron. Ginny... try this one."

Again, she sucked him with relish, though not quite the same as before.

Then... "Ron, you take a few pictures as you cover that bitch in your cum, okay? Then after,
as it's dripping."

"R- right," Ron muttered, clearly fighting off the renewal of an onrush of ecstasy, forcing
himself to take up the camera as he hammered her cunt from behind.

And Harry watched, too, as the other wizard surreptitiously took a few photos of Ginny
servicing him. "Up you get Pet... I want your pussy too."

Ginny practically threw herself upward and into his arms, wrapping both those and her legs
around him, then sank down without even trying to aim. Yet, she didn't need to, as her vagina
sought out what she was so desperate for.

Again, though, he only let her bounce up and down on his shaft, much as Lyra was doing to
Hermione while standing as well, for a few minutes before he lifted Ginny up and off. "Now,
taste yourself. That's a good Pet..."

Before, Ginny had been, as far as Harry knew, a bit reluctant to taste herself. Now, though,
she gobbled him up eagerly, laving and licking him with gusto. "Gods, so good... love squirt,
Master. It's almost as good as your cum..."

He kept his promise to the girl, shagging her again and again, until her own newly-acquired
Runes were exhausted, while Lyra had lazily fucked Hermione into a state of blissful
unconsciousness. The red-head's brother, having had his Runes for an entire summer and
some month longer, used Romilda again and again, then took a couple of turns with Lyra,
then back to blast the soppy, white-dripping hole he'd been abusing all night one more time
before following Hermione to their usual shared bedroom.

But Harry was not done.

Instead, the moment he heard the distant door close, he turned to the tired Ginny and lifted
her, carrying her bodily, before sitting her down on her knees between the now-horizontal
Romilda's legs. "Clean her, Pet. Clean up all the cum in that overused pussy."

"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly, sounding quite tired yet with a distinctive quaver, "That's-
that's mostly Ron's."

"I know," he whispered, glancing up at Lyra, who, like him, seemed more energized than
tired despite the hour being well past midnight. "Eat it all, Pet."

"But- but he's my brother. That's gross."

"I know," he half-laughed, "isn't it naughty?"

Ginny, below and before him as he stood over and behind her, swallowed audibly. "Y- yes.
It's really naughty. I'll- are you sure it's... okay?"

"Sure," he smiled again, running a hand through her tousled, sweat-drenched hair, "It's fine.
It's not like you're blowing him yourself, or shagging him. Right?"

Not yet, anyway...

"R- Right. That... that's right."

Then Ginny leaned in, and Harry grinned once more, erection just as unflagging, as he
watched Ginny practice her already exceptional cunnilingus skills, delving deep into Romilda
to eek out every last drop of Ron's semen she could, licking up each and every one.

Some twenty minutes later, Harry asked, "Now, how does that taste, Pet?"

"Tastes like cum," Ginny shrugged, "I... I haven't tasted that many blokes, you know."

"Who?"

She shrugged again, looking at the glistening, dripping pussy that still swung a few inches
from her face with a numb sort of expression. "You, of course. Neville, when he got his own
Runes, and when I got mine. And Lyra. Lilith, I mean, on the night you got this slag."

Harry nodded. He didn't mention that he'd watched through the Succubus' eyes as if he were
her. If it really had happened, and Ginny's words indicated it might well have, Lyra already
knew, and Ginny wouldn't care. "Did you like it?"

"It's salty. Together, it was just like Mum put too much in the gravy. Not too bad, though."

"And do you feel gross?"

"I feel like a slag."

"Well, you aren't. You're my Pet, and you did what you were told. I reward my Pets, don't I
Lyra?"

"You sure do," the Succubus chuckled, giving her penis, still hard and very normal in size and
shape so that it only looked a little large on her otherwise human body, a few strokes. "Master
loves his Pets."

"Cock…" Romilda panted quietly, burbling a bit past the sticky mess that somehow remained
in her mouth.

"So," Harry murmured as he helped Ginny stand, "tomorrow, or next weekend or when we
have time, I'll get you a special treat. Hermione's got what I need to do it, I already asked.
Let's get you to bed. You going to stay here, Lyra?"

"I think I'll go earn some galleons, actually," Lyra chirped, hopping up and assuming the
dressed form of a nondescript human girl of average looks. "You'd be surprised how many of
the upper years will pay for a few minutes of pleasure."

Harry blinked. "Er... huh. So... you're prostituting?"

Lyra shrugged, "If you want to think of it like that. Really, I only shag who I want to. A few
I'll suck off, but most just get a few really good dreams for their money, like I did before I
had your permission to be more open. Have a good night, Pet and Master."

"Night, L- Lyra," Ginny said with a yawn, and didn't bother to collect her own clothing as she
stumbled from the room.

Harry followed her to collapse, as naked as she was but with their clothing dropped on the
floor of his room and the camera set more gently on the dresser, beside her. Even energized,
Harry fell asleep fairly quickly.

Harry slept in only fits and spurts that night, as an again-randy Ginny had climbed onto his
cock and ridden him to both waking and climax, then another round, before passing back out
herself. A little while later, Hermione and Ron had joined them, and he was once more
emptied into their mutual girlfriend while his best mate took her other nether hole at the same
time. Both then collapsed in a tangle on the bed.

Yet, when he woke at nearly six, he felt just as rested as if he'd slept for a full eight hours,
nightmare-free.

In the night, the tangle had separated only a little, with Hermione on his right and Ginny on
his left. Ron, though, was snoring quietly on his sister's other side, and Harry couldn't hide a
grin, for his friend's arm was around his sister's waist over her stomach as she lay, quite nude,
on her back.

Willing them all to stay asleep, Harry climbed gently from the bed, crossed to the Dungeon
still unclothed and not caring one whit, before returning with the camera.

He took just a few shots of all three of them, individually and as a group, before gently lifting
Ron's hand to set it down and arrange it gently, as naturally as he could, over Ginny's left
breast. Two more pictures followed. Next, he arranged Ginny's hands so that she was
covering her own crotch, and her other hand was on the remaining breast, and took a few
more.

Carefully, after that, he rearranged them as they'd been when he woke, and made ready for
the day.

When he stepped out of his shower, satisfied by Lyra once more, Hermione was gone, all of
her clothing and school supplies gathered up. She, he knew, had Ancient Runes. Ginny was
throwing on her backpack, stuffed full, and heading for breakfast. "Sorry, Harry, I've got
Herbology. See you later."

He and Ron had a free period, but without his two favorite witches there, Harry saw little
point in delaying the inevitable. So he gathered his own things and prodded Ron awake
before leaving for breakfast.

He was mid-way through his second blow-job of the day with just a few bites of his eggs and
toast left, when Hedwig landed in front of him with a rather thick letter in her talons. "Hi girl.
Sorry- have I been neglecting you?"

Any reproach the normally jealous owl might have had as she landed vanished the moment
he started handing her bacon. Still, it took three full strips before she deposited the letter, and
another five before she took off once more for the owlery. "Thanks girl!"

"What did you get?" Hermione asked breathlessly, still a bit shattered from her earlier round
with Lyra's tongue beneath the Gryffindor Table.

"Letter," he chuckled, holding it up.

"I can see that,” the witch replied saucily, "From whom?"

Harry shrugged as he turned it over, noting the three postage stamps and two scribbled
addresses, including one of the 'notorious' Sirius Black. "Huh. Sirius. And a hospital. Odd."

Mr. Potter,

It is unusual for our facility to undertake the testing you requested, but we could not, in good
conscience, deny your request for testing in the sample you provided.

How it was still viable while kept in only a single, old-fashioned glass vial I hesitate to guess,
but we here at Evelina London pride ourselves on results more than vagaries, and the
generous donations made by yourself and your caretaker, Mr. Black, could not be ignored.

As a result, we did perform several tests on the sample. I have summarized the results below,
and included each of the reports on the individual tests run based on the symptoms described
in the earlier letter.

Harry read through a total of four pages, each with, if he estimated right, more than twenty-
five various tests that had been done, before he had to set down the larger sheaf of reports and
finish off the last page, which was only half-full before the letter resumed.

If the individual in question (is it an individual?) is still alive, it is likely they will remain so
for the foreseeable future. However, the earlier treatment is begun, the healthier the
individual will likely be for the remainder of their lives.

I should emphasize that our testing is not conclusive, and that to ensure the wellbeing of the
individual from whom the sample was obtained, that individual should report in-person to
their nearest medical provider with this report. Furthermore, the person and their family
should also expect a long treatment.
In recent years, we have made great strides in treating the sort of illness this sample seems to
suggest, but we cannot diagnose properly with only a single blood-sample of dubious origin,
no matter the donation(s) given.

Yours,

Doctor Marissa Thorpe, MBBS, MRCP (London)

"The Royal College of London? What've you done, Harry?" Hermione asked, having clearly
read over his shoulder, though she was finished by the time he was just done with the second
to last paragraph.

"It's for- the younger sister," he demurred quietly, raising his eyes toward the Slytherin table
briefly. He couldn't see either Astoria or Daphne there, however, and gathered up the
shipment for more in-depth research or handing off to one of them as quickly as possible.
"The- well, I shouldn't say. It's not my place."

"Fine," Hermione huffed, pushing her last few bites of toast away as Ron, half-asleep still,
staggered in for his repast, "I've got to get to Runes anyway. We should get our homework
done after Arithmancy if we can, so we have as much time to play afterward as possible."

"Alright," he agreed with an easy shrug. He'd never been particularly studious, but somehow,
at about the same time as he'd summoned Lilith the previous year, Harry had found the
homework portion of his school work significantly easier to do, despite all the distractions.
He didn't feel smarter in any way. No... if anything, the young wizard had to chalk it up to
motivation.

"Mornin’ Mate," Ron said as he sank into his seat. The groan of his first bite, already into his
mouth, coincided fully with the eager and invisible Lyra engulfing the taller boy's penis, as
usual.

Harry grinned as he finished stowing the massive letter into its original packaging and shoved
the lot into his bag. Now, if ever, would be a great time to tell Ron his new plan. "Gotta go
talk to the Slytherins during DADA if I can. Potions if not. This letter's for- well, something
to do with them."

Ron looked sideways at him, "Need-" he swallowed, "Need backup?"

"I'll be fine," Harry chuckled, "I'm going to talk to Daphne in class if I can. Pansy if not her,
just to relay the message."

Ron nodded, but didn't say anything else as he took another bite.

Harry leaned across the table briefly to give Ginny a soft peck, waved goodbye to his friends,
and headed out. Maybe he could catch one in the halls?

As it turned out, Harry did not need backup. He did not find either of the Slytherins he was
looking for in the halls before classes. Daphne, he thought, might well have been in Ancient
Runes with Hermione, but Pansy wasn't to be found either. Nor, when he glanced back in
toward the end of breakfast, was she in the Great Hall.

While looking around, however, the wizard observed several students petting or necking
rather heavily in the halls- behavior he hadn't seen since late last year. "Lilith," he thought
intently to his Succubus companion, and was rewarded with her own close-up view of what
had to be Ginny's spread-open labia as she listened to his mental message, "Is it you making
everyone so... well, horny, all the time?"

"I expect so Master," the Succubus replied, "Aside from you and your friends, of course. Most
of my kind, myself included, have a power you've heard me refer to before called Aura of
Arousal. It's fairly passive, we simply exude an energy of sex and lust at all times, as I'm sure
you've noticed. For most people, it's barely noticeable most of the time, but the longer one is
exposed... well, it doesn't take that long to start noticing differences. I can try to suppress it if
it's a problem, but I can't do it indefinitely."

"No," Harry thought back, amused as two Ravenclaw girls in, he guessed, their seventh year
argue who was the better kisser with a gob-smacked Hufflepuff as old as they were, and
alternate trying to prove it, escalating all the while.

That, right out in the hallways on the first basement floor, half-way to the Hufflepuff
Common Room.

"No, I think we should keep it. It... won't get too many people in trouble, will it? With the
teachers, I mean?"

"It's not like Fog of Lust," Lilith replied, again filling his mind with images of his other pet
climaxing into her-their mouth while she did so, "People can control it, control themselves.
They mostly just want to less, and are thinking about sex even more than before. Your
teachers aren't immune, either."

Harry grinned at the thought. Some, like Dumbeldore, Slughorn, and McGonagall, were far
too old for Harry to be thinking about that way, but some, like Professors Vector or Sinistra,
were quite fit regardless of their age. But his pleasant musings of some forbidden teacher-
student romance were dashed from his mind when he saw Draco Malfoy, without either of his
two usual goons or the other Slytherins that occasionally hung around him, glancing furtively
about as he moved quickly and quietly through the crowded hall.

Harry frowned. "Tell Ron I might've been wrong about the backup, but I'll call if I need help.
Trailing Malfoy- he's up to something."

"Yes, Master... gods, her squirt tastes good, doesn't it...?"

Harry smiled once more at his naughty Succubus' words even as he ducked around a statue
and threw his invisibility cloak over his shoulders, then started following Malfoy as quickly
as he could without bumping into other students.

The first classes had already begun, Runes included, when he figured out where Malfoy had
gone. He'd thought he had lost track on the seventh floor, where far fewer students were
moving about, when he realized that his search pattern trying to pick up the trail was...

Well, right in front of a tapestry depicting a man trying to train seven trolls to ballet-dance.

He's in the Room of Requirement. What's he doing in there...? Trysting? He had plenty of
problems with Pansy. How he got it up for Umbridge of all people last year... ugh. I mean...
eww. But still, what else could he be doing...?

But try as he might, Harry couldn't think of any combinations that would get the Room to
open, so, frustrated and annoyed, he headed down to Defense, having quite forgotten about
the letter in his bag.
 ... And Make Galleons Doing It

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 36: ...and Make Galleons Doing It

The second week passed much as the first week of school had, without a sexual encounter
with anyone outside of their small circle of friends and occasional entertainment by Romilda,
who was slowly starting to speak more but only words regarding sex in some fashion.

The knowledge had made Hermione frown when she'd observed it, but Lyra, hands groping
the mind-broken girl’s chest while Ginny's talented mouth alternated between Romilda's and
Lyra's cunts, had shrugged, "She's recovering, Hermione, relax. It's taking longer than I'd
hoped, but she'll be better soon."

The only other item of note was that Harry remembered to forward the letter he had received
from Sirius during Potions on Thursday through Pansy, who had taken it without question but
given him a strange look when he'd told her it was for Daphne.

Saturday, though, was a more momentous day for multiple reasons.

The first, at least chronologically, was Quidditch.

Specifically, the Gryffindor Tryouts.

Harry and Ron, a bit late thanks to Lyra's 'Pep-Job' in the locker rooms, weren't surprised to
see Katie testing out a few others for Seeker, including a smirking Ginny.

Nor were either of them surprised when Ginny was listed as an Alternate, not after the
previous year in that position, while Harry resumed his spot as the primary.

The Chasers, after two hours of hard-fought trials, ended with Ginny starting, Dean Thomas
as her alternate though he wasn't on the regular team, Katie herself, and a rather fast fourth-
year, Demelza Robbins. Demelza was a lithe, flexible girl with a long plait of dark hair and
Mediterranean features, nearly as tall as Hermione but thinner than she should be. Her
reactions, though, were on par with Katie's own, showing either incredible natural talent or
extensive practice. Likely both, Harry thought.

Without the Weasley Twins, Katie had to make do with two less-helpful blokes, the fifth-year
Ritchie Coote, who barely squeaked by the next runner-up, and Something-Peakes. Honestly,
Harry didn't care to remember. The two were alright as Beaters, but frankly, Harry felt
himself able to avoid harm quite easily these days, and Ginny was more than fast enough to
evade danger herself.

But the Keeper, that was a surprise to Harry.

He knew Ron wanted to try out, of course, and had been on the team the previous year. But
McLaggen had tried out again, and a couple of other younger Keeper hopefuls had almost
out-flown him.

Yet, bolstered by the self-confidence given by the last few months, Ron didn't even get
annoyed when several Slytherins came out onto the stands and began taunting him during the
last trial.

Instead, he saved not just most of the goals, but each and every one, all ten penalty shots
directed his way, and all five of the pitch goals. That was something even McLaggen, who for
all his other faults was a pretty good Keeper, could not match. He'd only scored eight saves
out of his own ten.

Which was why, when they'd all gathered once more in the shared quarters after a hearty
lunch, Harry felt that Ron deserved a reward.

"Hey, Mate," he murmured, tugging Ron into his own room for a moment, "C'mere."

He rooted around in his trunk for several minutes, then pulled up a Potion vial, swirling it to
display a light-green, almost oily translucent fluid mixed with thicker, pine-green bubbles
throughout it. "We're going to do Hermione's Runes tonight, right?"

Ron flushed slightly, but nodded, "That's- I think she wants to, yeah."

"Take this. It's something I got from owl-order last year, before I Summoned Lilith. Supposed
to help with Stamina- should give you even more. Make it extra special for her, you know?
And since Neville's spending time with Hannah tonight... she might need both of us to be
extra giving. If you know what I mean."

Ron grinned, and reached eagerly for the small vial, slamming it back without hesitation. He
grimaced a bit at the taste, then smacked his lips. "Minty. Really strong though."

Harry winked, and followed his best friend from the room, to find Ginny already in the
doorway of the Dungeon, waving them on. "Hurry up, you too. Hermione's ready to do it."

Hermione was already lying on the bed, smiling up at them shyly but utterly nude, when
Harry trailed in, having lingered to give Ginny a long, tender kiss and to feel her body against
his. "You know I love you too, right, Pet?"
"I do, Harry," Ginny murmured, slipping a hand against his trousers while the other trailed
his spine, "I love you, too. Make her cum again and again. I want to watch how you pleasure
her, Harry."

Harry sank onto the couch again with Ginny in the middle and Ron at the far side, already
shamelessly wanking slowly, while Lyra finished up the last knot, then stood next to the bed
on the far side, her own clothing vanishing as well. "Okay, Hermione," the Succubus said
softly, "same basic procedure as before, but it's simpler than Ginny's since you aren't placing
yourself as his in the same way she did. You'll need to be taken for pleasure, pain, and
service, not in that order unless you want to be. That's vaginally, analy, and orally, again, not
the previous or particular order. Who do you want to do what?"

He watched as the witch's beautiful, shy looks passed through Ron, himself, Lyra, and even
Ginny thoughtfully, then repeated the journey. "I..."

"It's alright, take your time," Ginny encouraged after words seemed to fail her.

"All of you," Hermione eventually shrugged, "I... I like having s- well, making love, to all of
you. I want to... be with all of you tonight."

"You will," Lyra replied, "but for now, the order matters. Who will climax in your mouth, and
bring you to the same pleasure? Who will fill you?"

He watched her breasts shake as she took a deep, shuddering breath. "I... I want you in my
mouth, Lyra... with your big Succubus penis. And I want Ginny to- to please me. The- then I
want Harry and Ron to choose how we do- do the rest."

The Succubus nodded, remaining as Lyra for the moment, and knee-walked up the bed,
gesturing Ginny forward. "Then I suggest we start with your pleasure, so you can enjoy the
rest even more. Then the boys can have their fun with you, and you'll service me to bind the
ritual together. Does that sound good?"

"S- Sure," Hermione murmured, eyes locked on Lyra's plentiful chest, though she moved her
gaze down to Ginny as the red, vibrant hair tickled her stomach. Her head arched back as the
younger witch's talented mouth went to work on her folds, and she was breathing fast and
hard within seconds. But Ginny wasn't willing to waste the chance, and she backed off the
moment Hermione's first orgasm approached, leaving the girl whimpering and panting.

Thirty seconds later, with a glance toward Harry and Ron and a hand holding her hair out of
the way so they could see the show now, she leaned in again, burying her face in Hermione's
thick pubic curls.

"That's your sister, eating our girl out," Harry whispered to Ron, leaning over with his own
dick in one hand, "Hot, yeah?"

"Shit, Harry," Ron groaned quietly, "You know it is. Why're you- why do you keep asking me
things like that...?"
In response, Harry pushed himself from the couch, shucked his clothing down to his socks-
the floor was a bit cold with the onset of fall- and reached down with a hand on either side of
Ginny's waist to hike it upward. Then he flipped up her skirt and started kneading the girl's
pale arse, glad to see that she, like Katie, was now going around sans knickers.

"You've got a beautiful cunt, Ginny," Harry murmured, slipping one finger up and down her
outer folds."

"Thanks, Harry," the girl pulled away from Hermione as another climax approached- or
returned, since he was sure she hadn't finished once yet, "I'm glad you approve."

Given clear permission by Harry, Ron stepped up next to him and looked over Hermione,
whose eyes were closed, to Lyra, who was looking at him mischievously, and then down at
his sister's shirt-clad back...

And further down.

Harry spread the girl's folds open gently with two fingers, then slipped the middle inside
while he and Ron continued to wank. He glanced up and right to see the taller boy looking at
where he was finger-banging the youngest of them, and smiled, then withdrew his fingers and
replaced them with his cock.

Ron groaned louder than she did, though he flushed and stepped away, forcing his attention
back to Hermione and her pleasure.

For his part, Harry moved slowly and languidly, relishing the sensation of the moment rather
than working to climax as was usual, and he kept his motions against Ginny slow and gentle,
with ten or more seconds, sometimes as many as twenty, per stroke so as not to jostle her or
her other lover for the moment.

Ginny, Rune-enhanced and already in the midst of sexual activity, was as wet and lubricated
as ever before as far as Harry knew, and welcomed his presence eagerly, but didn't remove
her attention from the task at hand. She kept edging Hermione, in fact, for another ten
minutes before Hermione started to beg, "Please, please Ginny! Let me c-cum! Please let me
cum!"

"Since you asked nicely..."

Then Ginny's words were cut off as the older witch's helpless body writhed in sudden, intense
climax into the red-haired girl's mouth. Lyra had the bowl ready to catch it once Ginny's lips
opened, and left it beneath Hermione's dripping snatch for several seconds too, before Harry
stepped back, dick glistening with Ginny's pussy juice, and let her withdraw as well.

It took several minutes, as usual, for Lyra to draw the Runes on Hermione, though her
arrangement was quite different from the line that had been on Ginny's body, or the single
spot on his own or Ron's. Hermione had one placed on her forehead, one over each nipple
and above it on the top of her breasts, then on either hip, around her navel, and then just over
the split that held her engorged clit. "For mental stimulation, health while you seek pleasure,
and then the usual spots," Lyra answered her unspoken question.
"A- Arse," Hermione moaned a few minutes after the white flash of the Rune sequence being
finished made her body spasm in ecstasy, "I need it... it'll hurt so good! Ron... deep in me!
Please!"

"R- Right," Ron muttered, standing up once more, still stroking himself though now he was
red with the exertion of it, and helped Lyra untie the girl and roll her over, then position
herself with a few pillows beneath her abdomen and one beneath her chest.

Smiling, Lyra poured the last of Hermione's cum and Ginny's saliva over Hermione's
puckered arse and worked a fingertip in, then withdrew it. "Gently- remember her nerves are
on fire. Everything she feels is far more intense than normal."

"Don't care!" Hermione cried, "Put it in!"

"Cock in ass!" Romilda cried from across the room, giving her current position in the ceiling-
swing a shake, "Cock in ass!"

Ginny blocked Harry's view of Ron pushing in, but as she sank onto his length facing the
same direction he was, he had no reason to complain, and instead let his fingers work on
unbuttoning the girl's blouse and letting it fall open, then removing her bra as she rode him,
just as slowly as he had been doing before.

Ron, though he had started slow, was clearly unable to control himself, and was already
pounding down into Hermione with abandon, lost in the moment. She didn't seem to be
complaining, though, judging by her hands fisting in the clean white sheets of the bed, or her
cries of joy and abandon.

Ginny stopped moving with Harry buried deep within her when Ron climaxed and eventually
pulled out of Hermione's bung hole, half-erect with white jizz still dripping from him, and
moaned when Lyra leaned in over Hermione to clean him quickly with her mouth, then
gathered up what she could for the next set of Runes after moving Hermione back to her
previous position.

Then, the second set of Runes being drawn in place, it was his turn.

Harry picked Ginny up gently, setting her down next to Ron again, smiling as they each eyed
the other but made no protest as they began to pleasure themselves once more, for the first
time openly. Instead, he only climbed back up onto the bed, assumed his position, and leaned
low. "Love you, Hermione. Always will."

"I love you too, Harryeeee!"

"Happy birthday," he murmured, feeling strangely powerful, dominant, in charge, full of

testosterone... however you wanted to describe it, as he mounted the witch who'd been one of
his first, best friends. Who'd stood at his side the longest. It was hardly the first time, yet it
felt special in some way, even with both of the Weasleys and a Succubus watching on.

"My birthday's not till next- next- w...w..." Then Hermione lost her ability to form coherent
words as he moved faster and faster. There was little foreplay, for he knew she would hardly
be able to handle it, only simple, in and out sex that had her shuddering and panting within
moments, though she'd just climaxed very hard twice now.

All too soon, she was orgasming again, and Harry let his own wash over him, into her, felt it
splash against Hermione's cervix and felt her body shake and tremble in tandem with his
own. And as he stepped back to the couch once more, Ginny leaning forward to clean him
even while frigging herself, Harry thought it should have been strange to see Lyra picking up
his leavings with a ceramic bowl and drawing strange shapes on Hermione.

Yet he didn't.

Instead, it felt right, natural, as if this was the way it should be.

Then Lyra's monstrously huge Succubus penis, veiny, ridged, studded with small, semi-hard
spikes, all purple and dark pink, erupted from above her dripping slit. "Ready, Hermione?
You wanted this one, right...? My real one?"

"G- Gods!"

But there was no protest. Only Hermione, who always had been very good at sucking dick,
who seemed to love it, strained against the ropes holding her in place in an effort to get at
Lyra. Harry grinned. Somehow, even with his wand in his pants, he knew... He idly waved his
hand, "Diffindo."

And all four ropes severed.

At once, Hermione rolled and leaned away from them, slamming her mouth onto Lyra's cock-
head, which was nearly as big as her fist.

His reward was seeing Lyra's soft eyes, more violet than brown as her powers had seen such
extensive use this night, roll back in her head as the pleasure hit her. "Oh merciful Xinivrae!
You're sooo good at that, Hermione!"

Still, after a moment, Lyra pushed the girl away with a clear force of will. "Hold on, let me
lean against the headboard, dear... don't want you to choke."

Reluctantly, Hermione held off, but before more than a few seconds had passed, she was
taking fully half of the monster in her throat, which bulged and swelled almost comically.

Ron's jizz, the second round, splattered up into the air, some of it raining down on Ginny's
thigh.

He glanced toward her, looking terrified even in the moment at what her reaction would be.

Harry couldn't see her face as she turned to face her brother, but he knew her posture and
body-language well enough even from the back. Challenging.

Then she swiped it up and put the glob in her mouth.

Gods, I love that girl, he laughed inwardly.

But Ginny hadn't had enough, so she crawled up onto the couch on her hands and knees, and
sank her head onto Harry's member for a few seconds. Harry, in turn, flipped her skirt back
up and started fingering her, just inches from Ron's face.

Ron seemed very torn between watching Hermione do her best to deep-throat a literally two-
foot long penis, or stare at his sister's cunt.

So he decided to do both, and started wanking once more. After a minute, when she'd started
dripping on his own bare leg, Harry caught Ron swiping up some of the juice, too, and
lubricating his penis with it.

According to plan...

Finally, the last of Hermione's Runes were in place, and she went truly wild. No longer tied
down, she pushed a few fingers, then her whole hand into Lyra's delicious pussy, sucked her
to completion again, then rode the Succubus in reverse-cowgirl once before leaping off and
moving for Ron, taking his whole length in her mouth, then sitting on him and presenting her
breasts for suckling while riding him wildly.

Then Ginny brought her to another orgasm with her fingers, and Harry took a turn, fucking
her in both the vagina and arse, before Ron was ready for round three.

Harry, of course, wasn't fully sated... but he shook his head as she returned to him, then
nodded toward Romilda, who was panting desperately.

Hermione had never touched the girl.

Now, though... "Toy..."

Clearly, Lyra and Ginny had trained Romilda well, for she began eating Hermione's pussy
with gusto, and brought the girl three shrieking orgasms before she was pushed away.

(O)(O)(O)

When Harry woke the next morning, he felt... content.

Happy, in a way he hadn't felt in years.

It was more than the sex, he knew, for he was sporting another raging boner, one that
Romilda, from across the room and still dripping with his, Ron's, and Lyra's semen from all
three holes, was straining for.

No...

It had to be the company. Waking up with Hermione and Ginny in his arms, Lyra nearby
clutched in Ron's desperate, needy grasp felt like home in the same way making love with
each of them and some of the others he'd been, but in a more subtle way. Not indefinable, not
really, but in a way that Harry couldn't find the words for in that moment.
Almost like watching the Succubus do her ritual had felt right, waking up with these people
in his- their- shared bed felt right. Where once Ron being a part of that might have made
Harry squick and want to vomit, now... now he just didn't care about that part. He'd probably
never do anything with Ron. But having Ron there felt great.

He was a very intimate part of Harry's life, even without any sexual desire between them.

Still, he had a problem.

He levered himself to his knees, threw one leg over Hermione, and muscled her onto her back
before sticking his erection between her breasts and the tip against her mouth. Even half-
asleep, for she'd partially woken with his shifting, she opened it to receive him.

Moving between her above-average sized breasts (he guessed at about a C-cup or maybe
even D's) felt exquisite after the flurry of the previous night, and the eroticism of taking her
this way while she was unable to really mount a resistance (not that he expected one) was
fun, too. Almost as fun as playing with her like a toy, squeezing her mammaries around his
own flesh, feeling her lick and suckle on his tip as he pushed in.

While it was fun, he wasn't close to orgasm yet when Hermione woke and started blowing
him fully, smiling all the while as her hands sought his swinging scrotum and her own pussy.
Nor did she let him go, her powerful mouth holding him in place while he climaxed into her
throat and mouth.

"That's a way to wake up," she murmured after he'd pulled away and she'd swallowed his
heavy load down, and patted her belly. "I feel like I just had breakfast, you came so much."

"In my defense," he replied quietly while swinging around her to climb off the bed, "You're
probably full from all three of us... or five."

Hermione grinned, stretching languidly, then brought a nipple up to her own mouth and
licked it twice. "Mm... last night was pretty fun. It felt... good, letting go like that."

"Back to normal, though?"

She sat up and shook her head slowly, then started to leave the bed as well. "I wouldn't say
that," she whispered, picking up her clothing but not donning it as he did the same, "I feel
amazing, in fact. If this is what you feel like all the time, it's no surprise to me why you seek
out as much as you can get. I mean... I know I felt strange after the other day, up- up in the
dorm, but now... I feel like if I did it I'd just enjoy the experience for what it was. That's
different, but otherwise I still feel like me. I think."

"Hmm. I don't know if I could've described it that way," Harry mused as he shut the dungeon
door behind them, "but now that you do, that's how it feels for me, yes. Some- you, Ginny,
Lyra, a couple others- feel like... well, better than the others, but I like sex, and I enjoy it with
everyone I've been with, and I don't see much harm from it as long as it's not hurting
anyone."
"But before yesterday," Hermione agreed, taking his hand and leading him into the shared
shower off the common WC, "I'd have felt it did hurt to do most of these things without some
real love or even ceremony behind it."

"We did a ceremony, of sorts," Harry laughed as he stepped into the shower.

He let her clean him, and returned the favor sensually, and of course they came together again
in the shower.

As they left, a sleepy looking Ginny dashed in behind them, just as nude as the night before,
while Ron had clearly 'borrowed' Harry's dedicated one, but Lyra was back in her normal
form on the couch, spreading a light breakfast out on the coffee table thanks to an Elf that
vanished as they stepped into the room.

"Thank you, Lyra," Hermione murmured, passing Harry and beginning to eat as if she was
famished. "I've so much to do today, and I've got to do as much as I can before tonight. I can't
wait!"

Harry grinned, and before long, Ginny had left as well to make her appearance at breakfast-
the only one to do so- while Lyra went to make her 'rounds' relieving many of the school's
boys of their morning tension, starting with Gryffindor Tower.

He and Ron were into their fourth lazy game of Wizard's Chess, the Wireless hissing slightly
as the Black Gargoyles played some song or other quietly, when came a knock on the door,
soft and almost timid.

"Uh..."

Harry blinked, echoing Ron's expression. "I'll get it, I s'pose. Hold on. My move next, don't
cheat."

"Like I need to cheat," Ron laughed as Harry stepped for the door.

Daphne Greengrass stood in the hall outside, clearly looking nervous. "Potter. May I- may
we- enter?"

"I only see you," Harry pointed out, poking his head out to glance up and down the hall.
There were several students, most in casual clothing, on either end of the corridor moving
with varied degrees of purpose, but no one else was in the hall itself.

"Disillusionment Charms. My sister and Tracy are here."

He felt the strange urge to pass his hand through the space on either side of the beautiful
blonde, but quashed it as insanity. "Er, come in then. Yes, you can all enter."

He held the door until he saw Daphne giving him a strange look, then shut it. The moment he
did, the slight form of Tracey Davis began appearing in the space between him and the
couches, at Daphne's side. A few moments later, still half-invisible, she tapped the air over
what must have been Astoria, because the younger sister began to melt back into view as
well.
Ron was frowning, but he didn't protest, only kept his eyes on the girls, so Harry shrugged,
"What can I do for you?"

"The letter," the older sister explained, pulling out the now much-crinkled envelope, "the one
from the Muggle Heal- Doc Tors."

"Doctors," he corrected absentmindedly, "Yeah, I read the letter and skimmed the results.
Seems like they found something though, doesn't it?"

Daphne nodded, and Astoria did too, though the former seemed much more cheered by the
news. "It seems they did. I don't know what the illness is, but there's a 'recommendations'
space on every one of the detailed reports. Most of it, we couldn't make heads nor tails of, but
it seems like they do have a recommended treatment. It's something, at any rate."

"Probably won't work," Astoria shrugged, "what can Muggles do that we can't?"

That made Harry frown, "Well, blow up the planet for one thing. Also, medicine's pretty
advanced from even a hundred years ago. I bet- well, I won't bet. But I think it's worth
checking into in more depth, at least. You should go in."

"We plan to," Daphne said, giving her sister a quelling look, "We'd like your help arranging
something for the next Hogsmeade Weekend. It'll mean skipping out on the visit, but..."

Harry nodded, "When is it? I'll help if I can, of course."

"Two weekends from yesterday," Tracey volunteered. Ron, behind her, nodded in support, but
still said nothing.

"Mm. Short notice I think, but we can do something. Galleons talk, as they say. I think that's
something people say, anyway."

"Just so," Daphne nodded, smiling and looking strangely relieved, as if she'd expected Harry
to say no. "So can we count on your help with arranging something? Yourself and the two of
us making a trip to- to see this Muggle Doctor?"

"Sure. We might need to bring Sirius- I haven't got proof of who I am, not that it matters in
the Muggle world."

"That would be acceptable. Um... there is, a, uh... another matter. Astoria, you can leave
now."

"What? No," the girl protested, frowning, "Whatever you have to say to Harry you can say to
me. I know him better than you do!"

It was true, since the girl had spent about two weeks living with him and Sirius the previous
summer after her parents had smuggled her to his residence in something like magically-
induced cryogenic hibernation for her own safety, in a desperate bid to get her some sort of
help the magical world could not provide.
How they'd come up with the idea, or why him, he had no idea, nor did Harry really care. He
felt like he could help, and it was the right thing to do, so... there wasn't much else for it.

"You will go back," Daphne growled, "Mother and Father will not approve of you arguing
with me in this case."

"I won't," the younger protested, "I have as much right to know what's going on as you do!"

"Not if it doesn't concern you, sister."

"She can stay," Tracey shrugged, voice quiet and soft, just as every other time he'd heard her
speak. "Mr. Weasley can spend some time with her, can he not?"

Ron looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, but he nodded all the same when the quiet, mousey
girl turned toward him. "I- you play Chess?"

"I do," Astoria frowned, "but I'm not very good. I like it, though."

Ron smiled. Harry thought it might well have been the first time he'd ever smiled at a
Slytherin. "Come on, I'll teach you a few tricks while we play- and not use too many against
you."

"You can try to win," she protested, but with another glare at her older sister, moved around
her and Tracey to take Harry's place.

Within seconds, Ron seemed to have put the others from his mind as he began to explain,
"See, Harry's already lost, he just doesn't know it yet, because..."

"Is there a private room we can speak in?"

Harry blinked at Daphne's question, then gestured for his bedroom. "That's my bedroom if
you don't mind talking in there. The rest are- are all bedrooms, too, mostly. WC's right there."

Daphne and Tracey nodded, shared a glance, then nodded again, before the blonde began
leading the way purposefully around the couch.

Harry held the door for the witches to pass, locked it behind him, then turned to see the tall,
statuesque blonde peering into the ensuite water closet and shower combination, though she
faced him a moment later. Tracey, on the other hand, stood stiffly in the middle of the space
to the right of the bed, on the opposite side from her best friend and lover.

The short, mousey girl was looking, not around the room, as Daphne was after glancing into
the ensuite, but at him, her expression casual but almost too casual, as if she was fighting to
remain calm. "Er... I can unlock the door. I just figured it'd keep your sister from barging in."

"It's probably best that you did," Daphne sighed, swiftly striding around the bed now that her
inspection was apparently done and taking Tracey's hand. The smaller girl relaxed noticeably
the moment she did, but kept watching Harry intently. "Anyway, we... well, we decided that
since we, erm... both wanted another.... experience, we should try it... together."
One of Harry's eyebrows rose, and if he wasn't distracted by the renewed images the
statement conjured in his head, he would almost have been proud of himself for managing it.
"Go on."

Daphne opened her mouth to continue explaining, but Tracey must have given her a signal he
didn't see, because she closed it a moment later and looked down toward the other girl, who
spoke softly instead, "I... did as I said I would on the train. I experienced another... boy. It
was... not as adequate as my time with you."

"What we're trying to say," the blonde picked up again as Harry smiled, this time proud of his
accomplishment, for he felt still like he'd hurt Tracey terribly on the train-ride where she'd
given up her virginity to him almost exactly two weeks before, "is that we're- we want to be
with you, again. I... we aren't bored with each other, it's not like that, it's just-"

But whatever she was going to say, Daphne appeared to not have the words to finish it.
Tracey, too, frowned, but could only shrug.

"You..." Harry, who was just as lost, couldn't finish a thought either, leaving the three
standing in awkward silence. I know where I want the conversation to go. I think they want it
to go the same place. But this is... it's like a train with no tracks to go on.

Eventually, Tracey tugged on Daphne's hand and lead her to the side of Harry's elf-made bed
(for he certainly hadn't made it after waking up to snap incriminating or at least embarrassing
photos of Ron copping a feel on his sleeping sister two mornings before), and sat down.

"I did not orgasm with- with him. I did with you. Our... pleasure is good. I want..."

"What she's trying to say," Daphne said with a frown, "Is that our own intimate time, while
pleasurable, has left us both wanting something else more often than not. Something neither
of us want to go elsewhere for, given your performance thus far, including what I have to
surmise was your first... encounter, and mine."

Harry grinned, "You want my dick."

Daphne frowned, "Don't be crass."

Tracey, on the other hand, nodded, "Yes."

Harry, though, paused. "I... okay. Well, I don't object, but... your sister is right outside."

"As is Weasley," Daphne pointed out, "And you locked the door. I can assume if she comes in
there's an emergency and we'll put any embarrassment aside. Also, we did cover Silencing
Charms last year, remember?"

"Not my point," Harry murmured, "Look, I'm happy to... have an encounter with both of you.
But there's some logistical concerns."

"Logi- like what?" Daphne asked, frowning again, "We're both here for the same thing. Just...
do what you do."
Harry rolled his eyes, stepping forward to close half the distance and running both hands
through his shaggy hair, "Well, who first, for one? Will the other one just... what, watch?
What if one changes their mind? Do you want to keep this up going forward? Is it a one-time
thing?"

Tracey answered, to his surprise, though she seemed just as shocked to do so, and ticked off
her responses on several fingers, "Both of us, though Daphne may be first if she wishes. I
would not object to watching you with her. I will not, and I do not believe she will. Possibly,
and if your past performance is an indicator of future performance, then no."

"I... Okay." Harry had no idea how to respond to that. Aside from the obvious, but as both
girls were quite dressed, it seemed rude to start stripping, even if he suddenly was just as
randy as he'd ever been. This would hardly be his first experience with two females, but they
weren't so common that the idea didn't still appeal, and...

Daphne rolled her eyes, sighed, let go of Tracey's hand, and stood up. "This is ridiculous.
Potter, just... pull up a chair, or something. We'll get started without you, just jump in when
you feel the moment's right, okay?"

Harry swallowed, nodding, "Alright. Um... I'll just pull up a chair then, shall I?"

He made sure to watch out of the corner of his eye as Daphne, perhaps predictably, took the
lead. Yet, as he sat down in the comfortable chair he had pulled over from the as-yet unused
writing desk in the corner of the room and turned it to face the bed from a couple of paces
away, Harry was surprised with how... slow the girls were taking it.

True, Harry knew that he was 'male' and very much about his own gratification, but he had
been under the impression that both Daphne and Tracey were here to have sex, either with
him or each other. Not to... well, kiss and hold hands.

But as he settled in to watch, one eye flicking idly toward the camera (not for blackmail, of
course, but for his own amusement) before deciding against it, the young man found himself
watching a very sensual dance between lip and tongue, both strangely tentative and yet
confident, sure. It was as if, he mused, each knew exactly how to kiss in the way the other
enjoyed most, while at the same time being unsure, even now, if they would be allowed to.

Each touch, even just their slim fingers slowly intertwining as each sat facing the other on the
edge of the bed with one knee touching each other was a risk. One they were both eager to
take, yet scary all the same.

Yet Harry couldn't help but feel amazed that he was being allowed to watch the slow process
of mutual seduction, and so openly. He already had a throbbing erection, but the young
wizard forced himself to literally 'keep it in his trousers' for the time being, though his white-
knuckled grip on the armrests might have showed just how much force of will it took him to
do so.

Eventually, several minutes later, it was Tracey's small hand, nearly half the size of Harry's
own, that left the mutual grasp first, and trailed up her friend's bare arm to the edge of her
short sleeve, then moved in to land over the white school blouse, and give the firm flesh there
a squeeze. Daphne sighed, her back arching forward to push her chest toward her friend, and
Harry smiled at the erotic sight.

Again, they moved slowly forward, beginning with Tracey eventually pressing dozens,
maybe a hundred, tiny little kisses with soft noises and little circles of moisture the only sign,
across then down the line of Daphne's jaw to her neck, while her fingers slowly and carefully
unfastened every button of the taller girl's blouse but the top one, where her Slytherin tie still
held it shut anyway, and slowly pushed the white material to either side. "Can I touch you?"
Tracey whispered up at her friend, who gave a jerky little nod.

"Can I... kiss you?"

"Yes," Daphne whispered back, even quieter, "You can always kiss me..."

Ron will never believe I'm watching this, even if he's just in the other room, Harry thought to
himself, enraptured by the equally sensual and erotic sounds and sights of Tracey Davis
kissing down Daphne further, from her chin, down the arch of her neck and clavicle, then
between the large, round breasts, though she still wore a dark, forest-green bra.

The same bra, if he wasn't mistaken, she'd been wearing on the night toward the end of the
previous year when they had given up their virginity to the other. The thought and memory
made Harry smile again, and he finally allowed a hand to fall on his straining erection,
though he left it in his pants leg.

Tracey, meanwhile, had pushed the larger girl onto her back, leaving one foot on the floor and
the other angled upward, then slid over her on hands and knees, giving Harry a delightful
view of Daphne's spectacular long legs, and Tracey's thinner, almost boy-ish ones, and a
small, flat rump almost shaped like child-Lilith's, barely hidden by the school's skirt. He was
struck by a sudden desire to reach out and flip it upward, but held his hand back the moment
it started to move. No... the anticipation is worth it.

Between the girls' bodies, he was treated to a side-view of Daphne's gorgeous chest as Tracey
eventually used the tip of just one finger to coax the lacey green bra downward half-way, just
enough to bare the hard, pink nipple, and began to pepper her with tiny kisses around the
areolae as well.

Over twenty minutes, Tracey worked her way down Daphne's body, giving Harry another
lesson in pleasure, whether knowingly or not, showing him several erogenous zones that
Daphne had aside from the obvious, until she shook her head, "Can I... taste you?"

This time, she didn't wait or watch for Daphne's reply. Instead, she pushed the skirt up and
shoved the green, matching panties aside, and leaned in eagerly.

Only then did Harry stand up unzip his trousers, and fish his length free before stepping
forward... but he didn't do anything but watch as Tracey, who seemed quite as skilled as
Ginny with her tongue, quickly had Daphne writhing furiously on his bed, whimpering and
giving off soft mewling sounds. Daphne chose that moment to open her eyes, which quickly
widened as she saw Harry looming over her, and a moment of shock passed.
Had she forgotten where she was in her pleasure...?

Then the climax hit, and the brilliant blue rolled back in her head until it was nearly invisible
as her hips rose from the mattress, shaking and trembling, while her thighs clutched against
either side of the smaller witch's head.

Tracey didn't back down, but licked away eagerly , eyes closed in concentration, until
Daphne finally fell back onto the bed and forcefully pushed her away with both hands against
the dark brown hair. "Stop! Stop, Trace... oh Circe that was..."

But Tracey didn't need to hear the rest. She only grinned down at Daphne, then up at Harry
without much trace of her usual shyness, though she was a bit flushed, "I love you too,
Daphne. My turn?"

This time, though Harry didn't want to wait. He undressed slowly, making sure both girls saw
him do it, as Daphne quickly and efficiently reduced Tracey to nudity as well before shucking
her own clothes, then took hold of the smaller girl's knees where she lay on her back, and
hiked her upward so that only Tracey's shoulders and head were on the bed, and most of her
was against Daphne's voluptuous form, then leaned in with her own tongue.

"Gods, that's sexy," Harry exhaled. "I... d' you mind...?"

In response, Tracey reached out for his dick, eyes locked on it with shock and surprise, then
tugged him softly forward onto the bed. He obediently knee-walked closer, and she
whispered, even with Daphne eating her out, "I can't believe that fit into me..."

The blonde lifted her face from the other girl's genitals briefly to smile down at her, chin
glistening with moisture, "It mostly fit. About... two-thirds."

Harry smiled proudly as Tracey gave him a tentative stroke, then another, before reaching
across her small chest to try with both hands. It took them both to close around him, and they
only just did that. He, meanwhile, leaned toward her, running one hand onto Tracey's small,
A-cup chest, "Can I touch you? Can I kiss you both?"

Tracey nodded at once, pupils slightly dilated, and Daphne mumbled, "Mh, hm," a moment
later before pulling off again. "We are here for sex, Potter. Isn't that clear by now?"

"Just making sure," he murmured, unsure yet how he wanted to join in. Eventually, though, a
temptation proved to overpower the others, and he threw a leg over Tracey's head. "You can
lick me there... or use your hands. You don't have to. But I want to share you with Daphne... I
like Mulberry."

The blonde looked worried about her friend at his first statement, but surprised and pleased
by the second half of his statement. "Huh... I never noticed that's what she tasted like, but
you're right."

Before Harry could lean in to join Daphne's head between Tracey's legs, though, the small
girl had licked at his hanging scrotum with one hand around his shaft, then started suckling
his testicles. After a few seconds she released him, and Harry moaned. "I did not think that
men could be appealing before you, Potter," Tracey murmured from beneath him, "and I
would not have done this for... him. But you..."

Then she suckled his testicles again, and Harry sighed with pleasure. "That feels really good,
Tracey."

She, perhaps predictably, started moving harder, pulling more, licking the sensitive flesh of
his sack when it was taut between her lips. Daphne, eyes on Harry, seemed both surprised and
amused by the turn of events, or maybe the look of ecstasy on his face, but she did not protest
as Harry leaned in and wrapped one arm around both of them, resting it on the small of
Daphne's still-covered back to help support Tracey's weight, then leaned in so that their
foreheads touched...

And provided his own long tongue, longer than he could have thought it would reach, access
to Tracey's slit and clitoris.

Daphne did not stop, though she shifted to delving mostly in and out, almost shagging her
girlfriend with her tongue as Harry pleasured Tracey's clit and hood with his own, and within
just a few seconds, Tracey was trembling and shaking between them, then cried out,
"Fuuuck," as a geyser of fluid jetted up between Harry and Daphne's faces. As she continued
to rock in climax, the spurts flew forward, back, coating both of them.

Slowly after, Daphne leaned back, scooting out from beneath Tracey and lowering her to the
bed. Then she scooted around and leaned in to kiss Harry passionately, her tongue swirling
over Harry's mouth. "You do taste good, Tracey," she murmured.

Tracey was still panting and, as Harry looked down at her, seemed to have a strange, wild
look in her eyes.

One he'd seen before.

"Uh, Tracey...?"

The brown-haired girl shook her head quickly, staring up at him, then burst into motion. She
lurched upright, nearly smacking her head against Harry's chin, then pounced on Daphne,
throwing her back to the bed and climbing over her so that she could lean down and return
the oral favor once more, then lowered herself to Daphne's suddenly eager mouth.

But she only let herself sixty-nine Daphne for a few seconds before she looked up, eyes still
wild, and growled, "Fuck me, Potter."

"Er... alright."

So he rose to his knees once more and took up a position between Tracey's legs, just over
Daphne's wide-eyed face, and pushed himself down. He slowly ran the underside of his cock
against her slit to let it lubricate slightly, not that he felt like Tracey needed it, then looked
down at Daphne. "Is this okay?"
The normally more sure girl nodded, a bit hesitant, and he lined up his tip before slowly
pushing in.

Looking down himself, Harry could see Daphne's eyes locked on where he was entering
Tracey, just as rapt as when he'd taken her virginity on the train two weeks earlier but from a
much closer angle. And she was still so tight, it almost hurt. Further and further, until Tracey,
apparently unwilling for the gentle approach, threw her body back against his so her firm,
small ass bounced against his thighs, and she gasped, throwing her head upward with a cry of
pleasure and pain intermingled.

Forward, half-way off of him, then back with another slap, and then she leaned down once
more, and Daphne gasped. "Sh... shit..."

Harry grinned, "You want it harder, Tracey?"

"Yes," she growled.

"Okay."

He took hold of the slender hips, and, remembering how Lilith occasionally liked it,
recognizing as well the similarities between Tracey's figure and the youthful form the
Succubus seemed to think he preferred (which he probably did), Harry resolved to treat her
pleasure in the same way...

And used her.

With just two or three strokes to prepare, he started hammering in and out of Tracey, much
like he had with Romilda when he'd used his unknown powers to 'break' her, not caring (or at
least not minding, for it felt amazing in its own way) how tight she was, how close to pain the
pressure on his dick was. Instead, he only knew she wanted him, she was wet, curved just so,
and somehow accepted his whole length... with that same tightness at the end that meant he
was pounding into Tracey's womb, too.

But if there was pain for the smaller witch, he couldn't detect it in her cries, and soon Daphne
was moaning in pleasure herself. He could hear, over their cries and the fast, sharp slap of
skin against skin, little droplets from Tracey's incredible arousal hitting Daphne's face as she
continued to try and increase her lover's ecstasy through what must have been another
orgasm.

Harry knew it was coming, and quickly. Tracey was just too tight, the situation too fraught
with emotion and pleasure, and Harry was nothing if not a conscientious lover, so he
rumbled, "Coming... inside? Out?"

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!"

The dam burst, and Harry began to flood the small girl with his seed. Mid-way through his
climax, his body trembling too, hers collapsed to quiver atop Daphne. He felt the other girl
reach back and start licking his sweat-covered balls too, mimicking her lover's earlier
movements and prolonging his pleasure. Eventually, still spurting, he pulled out, leaving a
great dollop to fall onto Daphne's cheek, which she ignored. Instead she, wide-eyed and wild-
looking herself, reached between he and Tracey to pull down his penis and angle the tip into
her mouth, suckling roughly, then tugged at his pipe a few times. Then she released him and
leaned up, laving at Tracey's dripping, wide-open hole. "I... I didn't think it'd taste good...
fuck, Potter... You'd better have some left for me."

He was, in fact, still hard, so he moved back to let Daphne breathe while she tried to clean up
his leavings from within the other girl. Then she beckoned him back after a few seconds,
"Come- come back. Put it in her again... then in my mouth."

Tracey, who hadn't said anything or even really moved since her climax alongside Harry's
whimpered as he, grinning, obeyed. But he only slicked in and out a few times, then
withdrew and pushed himself downward.

"As far in as you can go, slowly," Daphne whispered, then opened wide, her tongue sticking
out and dashing back and forth along his cock as he pushed in obediently, as if she wanted to
taste the mixture of himself and Tracey's climax.

She coughed when he was two-thirds in, and pushed him back. Quickly, Harry pulled free,
but Daphne said just one word: "Again."

So he pushed into Tracey once more, then back into Daphne, who coughed at about the same
point.

This time, it took no words for him to know she was done, though her eyes were heavy-
lidded and still filled with lust, so he moved around to the other side, lifted Daphne's limp,
still-quivering legs to either side, and gently moved Tracey's head so he could put his knees
beneath Daphne's legs and push forward.

The smaller girl wasn't unconscious, he thought, but didn't have the will to resist or do
anything but watch as he started moving in and out of Daphne. She was tall, statuesque,
classically beautiful even, and he loved being inside her. She, like Hermione and Ginny and
Lyra, felt like home, just as much as Tracey had. Only, in the same way now that he had more
experience to tell, different. Like Tracey herself, it was as if her body was a home he was
very welcome to, but not his own, almost like the Burrow made him feel.

Her body still clutched at him though, and soon Daphne was whimpering once more. Then
Tracey shook her head, pushed up onto her elbows once more, and leaned down to give a
tentative lick to Daphne's swollen clit, which made her body jerk and clutch at Harry even
tighter. "Do that again," he urged.

Tracey looked up at him, then grinned, and repeated the gesture. She didn't stop, and within
just a few seconds, Daphne climaxed around him, but Harry wasn't done.

He kept moving, fucking both hard and fast, then slow and sensually, alternating as randomly
as he could to vary things up. Then Tracey, looking almost Ginny-like with the mischievous
tint to her eyes, looked up at him, and opened her mouth wide.

The invitation was obvious.

"Shit, Tracey," he murmured, not slowing his movement with Daphne, "Are you sure? I
mean, I'm..."

She let her mouth close just enough to mutter, "Very sure. Only with you. I trust you."

He swallowed, feeling the weight of that trust settle on him even mid-coitus with her
girlfriend, then slowly withdrew.

Daphne whimpered, her body twitching toward him as he came free, and he looked up Tracey
to see that her hands were holding the smaller girl's rear cheeks apart as she delved inward,
but didn't protest verbally- her mouth was otherwise occupied.

Tracey, though she was clearly enjoying it, closed her eyes as she leaned toward him and
gave a tentative lick to his tip, then moaned as he pushed his thick, purple and sticky cap past
her small lips, then slowly back out. "Daphne tastes like cherry cordial," Tracey pronounced,
then took him into her mouth again, forcing herself lower.

She coughed when she tried to go further, but seemed determined to get more, and tilted her
head further up, elongated her neck, then threw her body forward.

She choked and gagged, and Harry felt a faint sting of what must have been bile along his tip,
but nothing leaked out, and Tracey didn't pull back. Instead, with tears springing freely from
her soft brown eyes, making faint eye-liner run, she looked up at him, seeming quite pleased
with herself, before slowly putting a hand to his abdomen and pushing him away.

She coughed again as his tip passed her tonsils and uvula, then gasped once she was able,
"Gods... how- how far...?"

"About three inches, total," Harry admitted, pointing to the spot about two inches past the tip.

"Fucking amazing," the normally quiet girl pronounced, then looked down and, using both
hands, pulled Daphne's pussy wide open, "Fill her up, Harry."

So he did, and a few minutes later, when Daphne was once more approaching orgasm with
both him and Tracey pleasuring her, the smaller girl opened her mouth wide again, "As far as
you can, Potter."

He swallowed reverently, amazed by the trust Tracey showed, then obeyed, raising up the
few inches necessary between Daphne's cunt and Tracey's lips, then pushed in forcefully, yet
slowly and carefully, ready for any cough.

She did wince as he pushed past her tonsils into her throat again, but the girl didn't cough,
and her body went still and rigid, yet strangely relaxed, as he went in further, and further still.

Then she slapped his chest, sudden panic gripping her, and Harry yanked himself free, before
immediately pushing into Daphne- he was close now, himself, and wanted as much pleasure
as he could before it was too late.

Tracey didn't say anything this time, only gasped and shuddered as she climaxed, then turned
her attention toward Daphne and she began to moan and pant, quickly reaching a crescendo
as he continued to plow her.

"In- in or out, D- Daphne?" he groaned, feeling sweat bead on his forehead from his
exertions.

"In my mouth!" Tracey cried, opening wide again, just in time to receive his load as he ripped
himself free with a grunt while Daphne came down.

He got most of it in there, but Harry's aim, his body out of control, was a bit off. Some landed
in Tracey's loose, bobbed hair, some on her cheeks, some dribbling down onto Daphne's
glistening, golden-furred snatch, but most did land inside the wide-open orifice, and Tracey,
when it was clear he was done with the jets, closed her mouth, then swallowed audibly. "I... it
tastes like a salt cracker, the muggle kind."

He blinked, "Never... heard that, but I knew it was salty."

Tracey nodded, then slowly rolled off Daphne. Both of them lay on their backs, panting, for
several minutes while Harry let his eyes rove over both of them, slowly stroking the last few
drops of his semen out to land on the bed, before stepping back. "I think I need a shower.
You're both welcome to join me, if you want another round."

Daphne giggled, half-hysterically, but Tracey shook her head weakly, "No- no more... tired.
Shower, then rest. Dorm..."

Yet, when he stepped out of the shower ten minutes later, both of the Slytherins were passed
out, still naked or nearly so, on his bed. So Harry began to dress in his casual nightwear and
stepped out, shirt still in hand and not on his torso, into the other room.

Where he froze.

Astoria, red-faced, was staring at him, shirtless.

"Wow," she murmured, then seemed to catch herself, and flushed even darker.

Harry turned pink too, he'd completely forgotten Daphne's sister was out there. Ron
snickered, then moved a piece, "Checkmate, again."

Astoria didn't even glance down at the board. "You... you shagged her! Them! What- what
the... is that the secret business? She could've just said!"

Harry's face met his palm rather violently. "I... shit. Okay, yes, and yes. You can't tell anyone.
Their reasons are their own. It's their business, not yours. Call it- call it Potter House
Business, or whatever your Pure-blood custom dictates, but leave it. Please."

Ron snorted, "There's nothing like that, Harry. That sort of thing only exists in bad stories. Or
at least, stories that use ancient ideas, like trashy Lockhart-style books."

"Whatever. Just- don't go spreading it around, at all."

Astoria shook her head, "I can't believe you've been shagging my sister, Harry! I thought- I
thought we were friends!"

"We are," he said helplessly, throwing his hands into the air, "It's complicated, alright?"

"How long has this been going on? What do you mean by complicated? Are you shagging
them, or not? I thought she was a witch's witch! I thought they both were!"

Harry sighed once more, putting her answers on hold as he sank, tired for once, onto the
couch next to Ron. "It is complicated, not very long- depending on how you look at it- but
yes, both of them, and yes, they are 'witch's witches' or lesbians, or- at least I think that's what
you meant. And no, it's not your business. It doesn't concern you, does it?"

"Of course it concerns me," Astoria glowered imperiously up at him, shorter than he even
though she was half-risen from her chair and he was now sitting, "If she doesn't carry on the
Line, then I have to, and I'm supposed to die in a few years!"

Harry blinked. "Oh, yeah, about that..."

She huffed as he gestured toward the letter on the coffee table, "Hermione had to help me
make sense of it, but they think you have something called Leukemia. It's a type of cancer
that... well, it can affect your blood, primarily affects the young, and usually results in death
before adulthood or just after. In other words..."

"It fits the symptoms and the... Leukemia? What's Cancer, too? The Crab?"

Harry blinked, "The Crab? What does that have to-"

Ron held up a hand, looking amused by the byplay as he looked back and forth between the
two, "Cancer the Crab. Zodiac? That Muggle Magic nonsense, but based on the
constellation? Surely you remember Astronomy, and the drivel that Trelawney was always
spouting?"

"Most of it I ignored," Harry reminded Ron, "I'm surprised you remember it. But no... cancer
with a small-c is a disease. I'm not sure on the specifics, but it basically turns your body
against itself. In your case, it makes your blood attack the rest of your body. Not all of it, but
more as time goes on, and there is a genetic component- which means it's more likely in a
family. If there was a magic or spell or curse that could control it so only one person per
generation is affected..."

"It would fit my family's curse," Astoria whispered, the blood of her anger fading into a pale
white as the reality set in.

"Yes," Harry murmured, "but... there is a treatment, and maybe soon a cure. It'll mean
Muggle care, and... well, it could make your hair fall out. I've heard it's hard, painful, even
dangerous to treat, but it can be done. You could live a long life. Maybe mostly a normal one,
without... well, without such a big sword hanging over your head. At least, if it works. It's
hard to predict how magic and science interact, according to Hermione."
Astoria swallowed, then looked down at the letter. A moment later she burst into tears.

(O)(O)(O)

It had taken another hour for her to calm down, but once she'd passed out, Ron had incanted,
"Wingardium Leviosa," and carefully maneuvered the girl into one of the other bedrooms and
the two gently put her, still clothed, beneath the covers and left, quietly shutting the door
behind them.

"So," Ron exhaled softly, glancing to his bedroom door, "you did shag both?"

Harry nodded.

Ron let out a slow breath. "I can't say I like it- you know my stance- but you're still alive and
unpoisoned, right?"

"Far as I know," Harry chuckled, "if their squirt was poison, wouldn't that kill them, too?"

Ron laughed.

"Anyway, I know why you're worried, but I'm not. I have reason to trust them both, and
Pansy, too. You know Astoria stayed with us for a few weeks, right? At Sirius' place?"

Ron nodded again, sobering quickly. "Yeah... then she went back home, right?"

"No," Harry said quietly, glancing at his door in turn, "It's not my place to tell, so I won't give
up details, but Daphne, Tracey, Pansy, and Millicent Bullstrode, and two girls from the year
up, have kind of... split from the rest of Slytherin."

"Those Carrow twins? Those ones? I thought they were still hanging out with Montague- the
younger one- and Warrington."

"They are," Harry told him with a shrug, "At least, Warrington. Montague might've been
kicked out of their little group. They're giving information to our side, straight to me or
Sirius, then Dumbledore. They're hiding in a house Milly was given for her engagement, and
they're mostly cut off from their families now, but I really do think they're on our side."

"Alright," Ron shrugged, "I'll take your word for it. And like I said, at least Greengrass is fit,
right? Davis isn't too bad, either."

"Looking at younger girls, now?" Harry laughed, looking pointedly toward the bedroom Ron
normally slept in when here, where Astoria now slept.

"Er, shut up," Ron chuckled, red-faced again, "You know I meant the older one. Daphne."

The two talked for several more minutes before Ron stood up, "Well, I'm gonna go make use
of Romilda before I head up to the Tower. You staying here, tonight?"
"Yeah, I probably should," Harry sighed, glancing about, "It wouldn't do for those three to
wake up without someone here. Might scare them."

"And you want to keep an eye on your things, yeah?"

Harry shrugged, grinning. "Maybe. I'll join you with Romilda, though, unless you want some
alone time?"

"Haven't had enough?"

"Never."

Both laughed as they entered the dungeon.

Romilda, untied since the night before, was pleasuring herself on the bed with the handle of
one of the quirts in her arse, and a metallic dildo about two feet long in her twat, but she
eagerly withdrew both as they stepped in, "Cock! Need cocks!"

"So what were you planning on doing with this bitch's photos? I assume you aren't selling
Hermione's, Lyra's, or my sister's."

Harry waited until Romilda was moving smoothly with Ron in her ass, her back against him
on the bed, before pushing into her pussy with his own rod and answering, "Well, part of it is
insurance if she decides to get back at us for... well, this. But if she does recover, and she's
okay with it happening, then she'd probably be okay with us selling copies for money, right?
Everyone loves a bit of porn. Of course, if the others were willing to sell pictures or even
film... we'd make a killing. Our girls are dead sexy, and both of us are built like porn stars.
Plus, you know, Succubus."

"Good point," Ron grunted, "Muggles really have that stuff on film?"

"Lots of it."

"Huh. I've only seen one cinema, but something like that would put Playwitch out of
business, even if all the girls were Muggles."

"That's sorta the plan," Harry chuckled, "If it comes to it, anyway."

"Shit. I love shagging, but getting paid for it, too? That'd be brilliant."
 Physical Entrancement?

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Just sayin'. ;)

Also, Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukka, Happy Kwanzaa, or whatever holiday you do or
don't celebrate this time of year (for me, that happens to be Christmas). Enjoy- but there's
more coming tomorrow. I think one of everything I'm posting here, actually...

Chap. 37: Physical Entrancement?

On Monday morning, Harry woke to familiar pleasure as an orgasm approached, and opened
his eyes to see who was riding him. His glasses were still on his head, but askew, so he took a
moment to adjust them and focus downward. There was crusted semen all over the arsehole
and cheeks of the girl, and the strangely hollow feeling between his legs even as pleasure
mounted hinted that the girl could only be Romilda. She had taken his whole length easily,
despite his head pushing past her cervix, too. Moreover, the strange hollow feeling in his
balls indicated that she had been mounting him for most of the night.

Yet, he didn't feel flagged, only very satisfied as her young rump, splattered with both his and
Ron's seed over the hour before they'd both passed out, rose and fell on his stomach, and he
looked down to see her slurping, too, on Ron's half-erect dick, though the red-head was still
quite asleep, and seemed much more spent.

"I think he's tapped out," Harry chuckled quietly.

Then he jumped as Romilda's dark eyes looked up from Ron's dick. "Harry... you're awake...
please, please fuck me! I'm so tired... I need your cock..."

She did look exhausted, with black circles under her eyes, but her gaze was still... aware,
somehow, in a way it hadn't been in days. "Er... Romilda?"

"Harry... please! I've got to have your cock! Fuck me hard!"

"Um, I am. Er... well, I'm in you, anyway," he said reasonably.

Her body never stopped, but she shook her head, "No, I... I'm tired, but I can't stop... please,
Harry... Can I stop moving and let you do it? Please? I'll be good. I'll do anything you want...
let me cum, let me sleep..."

"Er, alright." He pushed upright, pulling out just long enough to take a position doggy-style
behind her, and started thrusting as Romilda whimpered, letting her torso lower to the bed
and her eyes close as a soft, blissful expression fell over her exhausted face.

"Er, Lilith? I think Romilda's awake... she was talking. Like, listening and responding. Still
just wants 'cock' though."

The reply was a moment coming, but a fresh-looking, full-Succubus Lilith walked into the
room a few seconds later, her bony heels clacking on the floor, "Ah, I see, Master. Welcome
back, Romilda Vane... did you enjoy your time as a fuck-toy?"

"It was amazing," Romilda exhaled without opening her eyes, "I've never felt so free! But I
can't stop, I have to have more dicks, more cum. Always more, but I'm so tired..."

"Okay, Romilda... let our Master fuck you good and hard, then I'll let you sleep, okay? You've
done well. Now please Master."

"No," Harry chuckled, "I'll let her rest. You can just be a toy again, Romilda. Here..."

He started hammering in, making her small body bounce against the frame, as Lilith, looking
downward, fingered her pussy with a smile on her face. "She'll always want you and Ron the
most, but any dick will do it for her. Really, any pleasure. The craving will settle over the
next day or so, I expect, until she's just got a bad case of nymphomania, as far as anyone can
tell. She'd have made a half-decent candidate for your little group, but I'm afraid what's
happened with her has ruined any usefulness as far as things other than sex."

Harry frowned, but he felt the orgasm returning fast, "Still- still good for that, though. I can't
believe she's still tight, as much as we've both been stretching her."

"Vaginas are quite elastic, Master," Lilith told him, "but I also helped her out with a minor
healing Rune. She'll always heal fast, including returning to her normal size in a few minutes.
It was the least I could do to help make up for everything."

As Harry spilled himself into the small body once more, Romilda sighed, smacked her lips,
and seemed to drift away to sleep. After he'd withdrawn, Lilith waved her hands over the
girl's head, then tapped her forehead, then reached down to insert a finger into her pussy,
before pulling it, still covered in carapace, out. "Yes, she's finished healing. As much as she
ever will. I'll miss her at my beck and call- she was useful to entertain myself while you were
in classes I didn't take- but we should probably get her back into the student body."

"Erm... how're we going to do that? She's been 'missing' for almost two weeks. If she
suddenly shows up..."

"Already got it worked out, Master," Lilith said standing up again, "Once she wakes up-
probably tomorrow, if I don't miss my guess- I'll take her down to the forest and assume the
form of some creature that wouldn't mind shagging a human girl, and let her loose post-
coitus. Once she wanders into Hogsmeade or back to the castle, people should assume she's
been a prisoner, and escaped. I'll plant a suggestion in her so that when she tries to tell
people, she'll remember us as centaurs or aranea, or something."

Harry frowned. "Isn't that... wrong?"

"Pinning it on them? Nah. Well, I suppose I could say 'an Incubus had her', but that's a little
too close to home, and your Headmaster might figure it out, don't you think? Besides, so far
as I know Aranea are mostly as mindless as children, but still enjoy whatever 'fluids' then can
get. Right?"

"Mm. I see your point. Well, if you think it's best..."

Harry was showered and stepping into his fresh trousers when Daphne woke, followed
closely by Tracey as she froze, clutching the smaller girl to her chest at the unfamiliar
surroundings. "Relax," Harry told her reassuringly, "It's just me- remember yesterday? I'm
not going to assault you. But, um... not that I mind the view, but... it's a class day."

"I can't believe we fell asleep," Daphne chided herself as she flung her body off the bed and
dashed for her discarded skirt and knickers.

"I can," the much sleepier Tracey said with a grin, "That was amazing."

They left without remembering the younger sister, though Harry knew he had time to wait for
her to wake up. Though once breakfast is half-over, I'm going to make a run for supplies for
the three of us. We should eat something.

Harry was wondering, at dinner, when 'Lyra' would do what she'd said and return Romilda
Vane to the student body when the girl appeared, stark naked and still covered in dried jizz,
dirt, leaves, and twigs, staggering into the Great Hall.

Even Professor McGonagall, always quick to impose discipline, could do little but stare as
most of the male student body got their fill of admiring the petite fifth-year for several
seconds.

Then a loud, sharp, "Honestly!" rang out from across the table from Harry, and Hermione
conjured a series of soft, white robes that quickly enveloped the girl a moment before she
collapsed.

That seemed to spur the staff into action as the Hall erupted into loud cries of surprise and
exclamations, spouting off one theory or another about where the girl must have been, and no
few cries of annoyance that Hermione had 'covered up the show'.

Cries which, Harry noted, mostly came from blokes who showed significantly less respect to
their 'conquests' than he did.
Romilda was quickly taken to the Hospital Wing and sequestered while numerous magical
tests and examinations were performed. Thinking about those gave Harry a sense of strange
anxiety, but no one cornered him or any of his friends, as far as he knew, about the incident
aside from McGonagall thanking Hermione and giving her a full hundred points for acting
when most of the staff were too stunned to do so.

Harry and Ron both, he suspected, thought the girl's blush wasn't so much one of pride, but
hidden shame as, so far as she knew, Hermione herself had been one of the last to 'make use'
of the girl's state for her own pleasure.

The other missing girl, Mandy Brocklehurst, was still nowhere to be found. That too caused
most of the whispers and rumors surrounding what had happened to Romilda to be rather
darker than most would have thought. The other large factor in that was just how long the
fifth-year was in the Hospital Wing for.

Most injuries could be healed in moments or a few hours, maybe overnight. Significant ones,
like those Harry routinely got, might take a few days.

But she was still locked away, no visitors allowed, and Harry had heard that even the girl's
distraught parents had been turned away for the time being on Friday night.

Which meant that the homework, his anyway, was done. Ron's, a glance to his right told him,
was almost there. Ginny had maybe an hour to go. Hermione, of course, had worked so far
ahead while waiting for the others to finish that she had three feet or more on a fifteen-inch
assignment.

Lyra, though, was in the dungeon, waiting for them. They had agreed, between them, that no
one would get any kind of sex until all the homework was complete, so that no one felt left
out.

Which annoyed Harry, since he'd worked hard to finish early throughout the week, but he
could live. He didn't have to spend every waking moment shagging, right? It was just fun to
do so when able. Which he now was... aside from that agreement.

"I'm going to go talk to Lyra," Harry said, shaking his head and ignoring Ron's muttered
reply.

"Yeah, talk..."

Yet that was what he intended. He found the Succubus not in the form of the student, but in
her own natural, six-foot and change, true form. She was carefully pulling on one of the
many ropes that suspended the now well broken-in swing which hung on all four corners
with not just the sturdy, light ropes, but also, he could see, elastic sections on all four of the
main lines. "Um... you have something fun planned?"

"I do, Master," the Succubus grinned over her shoulder at him, lowering a wing so he could
see her face a bit better. "We talked about adding Runes to give your friends access to some
of my soul, right? The soul-sharing ritual?"
His eyebrows rose as he continued to note that most of the rest of the room was rearranged
now that Romilda was gone. In fact, almost all of the furniture had been pushed to the sides,
even the large bed, and only the couch and two smaller chairs surrounded the far side of the
swing's lower end in a U shape. "This needs the swing?"

"Not precisely," she shook her head, moving to check and adjust another line, "but it'll be
easier. We don't know what powers your friends might get, after all. If they get even more
enhanced strength, or something, having the swing will help keep them contained until they
get used to it. There's other reasons, of course, but it's mostly as a precaution."

"Hm.. Okay. Well... who're we going to do tonight?"

Lilith shrugged, then turned toward the couch, beckoning him to sit with her tail, "That's up
to you, Master. You know the rest will do as they're told. Er, as you suggest."

Harry rolled his eyes at the presumed malleability of his rather stubborn friends, but had to
admit that his leverage over the group was rather significant these days. "Okay, then who do
you recommend?"

Again, the Succubus shrugged, moving both her wings and shoulders before leaning back,
carefully folding tail and wing before throwing one ankle over a knee in a most un-ladylike
fashion, "There are pros and cons either way. If Ron is first, we're following 'tradition', and
he's most likely to have a combat-related power, given what I know of his nature. But most
likely doesn't mean will, only a greater chance of it. The downside is that it could make either
of the girls jealous, and this will wear me down. I'll be tired for at least a week, probably two.
Tired enough that even mustering my daily dose of your delicious sperm will be hard, at least
at first."

"Okay... I can see that. What about the others?"

"Ginny... she's your other Pet, and if anything, I lean toward her because of that, but she's also
the most willful of the lot, and the most willing to seek pleasure outside our little group."

Harry frowned. "R- really? Has- has she?"

Lilith shook her head, the long, pink hair waving, "No, not yet. She was a virgin for you,
remember, and so far you and Neville- and myself- are the only cocks she's had. But she's
more willing than Hermione with females, and there are several blokes she wouldn't mind a
roll with, now that she's awake to the pleasures of the flesh. My thrall, Dean Thomas, is one."

Harry nodded again, "Bet he'd like that, though."

Lilith agreed, "Probably, though she's getting a little old for his most preferred tastes. He still
fancies her, and wants Hermione after last week, not that I blame him. At any rate, if Ginny
gets a lust-related power, I can bet she'll use it more often than not to get what she wants, and
she really likes sex."

This made Harry frown thoughtfully. Do I even care, though? I know she's loyal to me. She's
my Pet. And I don't care if she shags Neville. Hell, I want her to shag her brother. ... No, I
don't think I care. As long as she's unable to catch a disease, and doesn't get pregnant with
some other bloke's kid, I don't care. Let her. "Okay. Hermione?"

"Similar, but in a different way. She... well, every single night since it's happened, she's
dreamed of that morning in your dormitory, when we both blew everyone there. She won't
necessarily sleep around, but she might stray a bit that way. It's almost weird, how much that
girl enjoys sucking cock. But with Hermione, likely in the same way Ron's was, there'll be a
mental power. Er, with Ginny, I'd guess it's also mental, but in a more subtle way, to make use
of her natural cunning. Hermione's will likely be fairly direct."

Harry frowned. "Okay. Could we do it with Neville, too? What about others?"

"There's little reason we couldn't, but remember that it does cost me to do this. Costs both of
us, really, since it also weakens- at least temporarily- my ability to protect you. Of course, the
more you add to this group of people means the more you're bringing in to our little group,
and the greater the risk someone will spill everything, whether on accident or on purpose."

"And we don't want that," Harry muttered to himself. So far, the list was safe. He'd have bet
anything that Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Neville were entirely loyal. But how many others
could he say that about?

"Okay, so just us for now, and Neville probably last."

"Exactly. Given what we've discussed, any preference?"

Harry shook his head, "Not really. What exactly does the ritual entail?"

It took nearly twenty minutes for the Succubus to finish explaining, and as Harry looked up
to see Ron standing in the doorway just as pale-faced as he probably was, he gulped and said,
"Well, not Ron first, for sure. Um.. does it... really take all that?"

Lilith grinned, following his gaze, "Why, does the thought make you queasy, Master?"

"W- well..."

"You don't have to accept the power-up that taking on an aspect of my kind would give you,
Ron," she reminded them, "and no one would think less of you. But, since Master is my
Contractor, he has to supply a fair bit for the ritual, including that. You don't have to eat it or
anything, but it will be absorbed into your body anyway. But it's fine if you want to go later,
or last. You don't have to do it at all."

Ron swallowed, nodding. "Er... okay. I'll... I'll just think about it for a while, yeah? The girls
are... yeah, they can go first. Er... will I have to... with Ginny?"

Harry let him enter the room fully and waited for the door to swing mostly closed before he
looked to Lilith, who shook her head, "No, not unless you want to. With the vitality you
possess, the loyalty, the courage, they could help make her power more potent, but if you
aren't comfortable with it it isn't necessary. Master and and I can do it with just us the core
group, but the more participants we have, the more powerful each Rune series will be, which
will allow a wider bridge to my soul's fragment. That, in turn, allows the person bearing said
fragment to more fully develop the powers they obtain from it.

"Think of it like... a hallway. If a hallway is narrow, only a few people can fit through it.
That's what happens with just Master and I, and is sufficient to power a small Rune-set like
you all now have. It works, the power or powers are still gained, can be used, but if the
hallway is wider, more people can go through, and more of my people's magic can be used in
turn."

"Makes sense," Harry said.

Ron frowned, nodding, "I... yeah. I don't want to see my sister shag like, everyone. Bad
enough Harry, Neville and Hermione do it."

"And me," Lilith reminded him, smacking her lips, "that's girl's cunt is delicious."

Ron shuddered, turning pale, "Er, r- right. I'll, um, take- take your word for it. Er... so that's
what, Harry, Hermione, and you? Three?"

Harry, though, frowned. "You said more is better. Would Ginny want more? Would she care?"

Lilith smiled again, "Looks like you've decided on Pet Two tonight, Master. Yes, more would
make the connection stronger, but isn't necessary. You should ask her. There are other
prospects of course, if she's interested and you don't mind, Master."

"What if I mind?" Ron asked sullenly, but didn't protest when the others ignored him.

A whispered conversation out in the common room sent Harry and Ron, the latter somewhat
reluctantly, on a pair of quests while Lilith informed the two studying girls of the change in
venue that bringing in more members to the party would require.

The first person Harry found on the Marauder's Map was Neville, which was fortunate,
because it also told him that there was more to be gained, if Hannah was willing. Unless he
missed his guess, the two students were in a broom closet on the fifth floor, and judging by
their footprints, Neville was entertaining his girlfriend rather vigorously from behind.

In fact, since the halls were mostly empty with the older students studying and the younger
playing, Harry was comfortable enough to listen in for a few seconds until he was good and
hard before knocking. He laughed at the loud bangs and quiet cursing that followed, and
chuckled once more when a tentative, badly-disguised voice called, "No one in here."

"I know it's you," Harry said, glancing up and down the corridor again to make sure it was
empty, "There's no one out here. Get dressed, both of you. Got a question with some
urgency."

He gave them a few minutes, delighting in their combined annoyance and embarrassment
before Neville, red-faced but standing proudly, and Hannah, pink-cheeked and looking quite
disheveled but otherwise dressed (aside from the knickers he could see behind both of them
on a bucket, bright yellow in color), opened the door and stepped part-way out.
"What's so important, Harry?" Neville muttered, wincing as Hannah gave him a slap on the
shoulder.

"Well, I couldn't help but hear you two," Harry smiled innocently, "as I was passing by, and I
thought you might like to have a little fun with more."

Hannah looked him up and down, and said quietly, "Honestly, Harry, Neville's kind of
wearing me out these days. It's like I created a monster. I don't know if I can handle you, too.
Don't get me wrong, I want to, but..."

Harry checked the hall again, then leaned in, "I wasn't talking about just me."

Neville's eyes widened, though not as far as the blonde Hufflepuff's. "What? What do you
mean?"

"Well, there will be others there. Lyra. Ginny. Hermione. Ron. Maybe one or two more."

Hannah swallowed, hard, "You- you mean like... like an orgy?"

The last word was hissed so quietly, even Harry's enhanced hearing barely caught it, but he
smiled. "I guess so, if that's the word for it. But with a purpose. There's a ritual we want to
try, and the more people we have the better. Of course, if you don't want to participate, you
don't have to. I won't force either of you. I'm just asking if you do want to."

"When?" Neville asked, confused.

"In about an hour," Harry shrugged, "'soon as we can get the people together. You in?"

"Sure," Neville shrugged, wincing harder when Hannah slapped his shoulder again.

"Neville! I can't believe you're talking about... about cheating on me, and right in front of
me!"

His retort was cut short by an angry look from Harry. "He's not."

"But you want him to- to participate in this! I mean, I know he's- he's been with others, but..."

Hannah's crestfallen look told Harry more than she could have suspected. He shook his head,
then replied quietly, "Hannah, it's not like that. You said yourself he's wearing you out- there's
a reason for that. One we can maybe rectify in a couple weeks with a different ritual, we'll
have to see. Besides, you’re being a bit hypocritical after giving me your first time, not him,
and then what we just did a couple days ago. As far as the group dynamics go, mostly it
depends on you and how things go tonight. Can we discuss this in a classroom? Hell, the
broom closet's a better place, even if the halls are pretty dead right now."

"Y- yes, that's probably a good idea," the girl muttered, turning to lead the way down the
corridor to a classroom, peek inside, then beckon them in.

After Neville disappeared after her, Harry smiled, ducked inside the broom closet, snagged
the knickers and stuffed them into a pocket of his robes before following.
When he entered, Neville was trying to explain in halting, low tones exactly what had been
going on without giving too much away, but Harry shrugged, "Let me, Nev. Okay, Hannah,
here's the thing. Yes, we've been practicing sex magic of a sort. You've probably guessed that.
No, nothing 'dark', at least not in the sense of Death Eaters or whatever. I hope you know I'd
never do that."

She nodded grimly, folding her arms beneath her plentiful chest but said nothing.

"Okay, so me, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and yes, Neville, in that order, have all done one type
of ritual. That's why Neville's had so much... energy, lately. Lyra was the one that taught me
about them, sort of. We've actually known each other a bit longer than the summer, but I can't
explain fully how yet. I trust you, but it's not my secret to tell, not really. That's the ritual I
think we can have you do, if you're interested, in a couple weeks. There are reasons we can't
do it now, before you ask, and I'll explain more before we do anything tonight. But the ritual
tonight will be like... the second stage, an evolution almost, of the one we did before. We're
performing it for Ginny. We don't really know what it'll do, but we know it'll give her some
kind of rare magic. Something most people can't do. We all, you two, if you're up for it,
included, will be performing the ritual around her. Yes, it's more sex magic. Yes, that means
you'll be having sex in view of other people. Ideally with other people. But not cheating. Not
unless it was 'cheating' when you asked me to help teach Neville that night, or it was
'cheating' when you were practicing in the broom closets with a disguised voice."

Neville blinked, and Hannah flushed.

Clearly, she hadn't told him that.

"Look, I'm sorry, that's a conversation you will apparently need to have later. Not everyone
there will have sex with everyone there. That's fine. But if you participate, you'll likely be
with at least two people. You can always refuse someone- no one that goes will force you.
But once we start, we can't really stop, so you'll need to stay for the duration, which could be
a few hours. Taking a Pepper-Up or an Invigorating Draught might help tonight if you're
tired, but I'm not sure where you'd get one on short notice."

"Professor Sprout keeps a few for minor colds and things," Hannah said casually, though she
was still visibly annoyed, "if I wanted one I could get one."

"Okay, good to know," Harry admitted, "anyway, it's only 'cheating', to me, if you're going
behind someone's back. In this case, both of you know going in what you're getting into. No
cheating involved. That's up to you.

"Part two, the other ritual, would involve yourself as the recipient, Neville as your boyfriend,
myself for... well, reasons, and at least one other person, maybe of your choosing, maybe not.
Again, though, that's entirely up to you, and we probably can't even do it for at least a week,
probably two, maybe even three. We'll definitely do it on a weekend if you want it, though. It
can be... intense."

"I'll say," Neville murmured, clearly remembering how wild he'd been after having the first
Rune or three inscribed on his flesh.
Hannah looked at the other boy for a moment, then back at Harry, clearly thinking hard.
"You... you say it'll give Ginny more magic? And this... this thing that's changed Neville, I
can get the same kind of thing?"

Harry nodded, trying to hide a sudden grin but not entirely succeeding, "Yes."

"Alright. I'm- I'm in. Go shag your other girls, Neville, but don't come crying to me if you get
jealous I'm shagging other blokes. And to be clear, this is a thing for tonight only. I'm not sure
if I'm... I'm not sure how I'll take it."

Harry grinned, "Alright. Meet me at the Room of Requirement at... nine-thirty. If I'm not
around, ask for the 'Fun Room'. It should open. There could be others there already."

"O- Okay," Neville nodded. The two were whispering animatedly to each other when Harry
slipped from the classroom. He had at least one more stop to make.

Too bad Cho and Marietta aren't here anymore, nor Alicia, he mused as he made his way to
the Gryffindor Common Room, they'd have been fun additions. And Romilda's still trapped
in the Hospital Wing, or I'd add her. There are probably others I can grab, but... two
candidates I'm sure will be down.

He found the first one drawing, as was often his habit after a long day of school, on one of
the better-lit tables of the Common Room, surrounded by a raucous noise of students younger
and older alike. "Dean. Got a minute? I'd like to talk to you and Seamus, up in the dorm.
Also, that's amazing. You're a damned good artist, you know that?"

Dean pulled his hands back to reveal the warrior-woman astride a hippogriff as it soared over
what looked like the black lake on Hogwarts grounds, a soaring castle in the background with
her sword raised high, "Thanks. I should be finished with it tomorrow if you want to stop by.
And sure, I can take a break. My hand's starting to hurt anyway. Oi, Seamus!"

No one answered at first, but after a little while, a seventh-year Harry didn't know well
pointed toward the boy's stairs, "Think he went up to try and make rum again in peace."

"Thanks," Dean said with a grin as he closed his note pad up and stowed the quill away.

Less than a minute later, Harry followed the tall, dark-skinned boy into the room to find
Seamus not trying to make rum out of water or pumpkin juice, but having a good wank. "'El!
At leas' knock!"

"Stow it," Harry laughed, stepping around the embarrassed Dean as he shut the door, "Not
like we haven't seen your 'shillelagh', remember? Anyway, I got something to ask you two.
You're still virgins, right?"

"Nah," both said at once, but Seamus turned a bit pink.

Harry pointed in his direction, smiling, "I don't believe you. Dean, maybe."

He, of course, knew it wasn't true since Lilith had seen as much in the boy's mind before
fucking him herself, but saw no reason to embarrass him. "Anyway, like I said, put it away.
We're gonna fix that tonight."

Seamus bolted upright and threw open the curtains, still pointing at the sky. Dean hid his eyes
again as he made his way to his bed and put his art supplies away. "Really?"

"Really," Harry nodded, "Both of you. Well, more."

"Hermione's gonna join in with Lyra, then? Don' get me wrong, I've really liked the morning
wake-up if you know what I mean, but... damn, it's hard stoppin' there!"

"Oh, I know," Harry laughed, "but tonight, you might just get both- and some others. If you're
good."

"What do we need to do?" Dean asked seriously, sitting on his bed.

"Yeah, tell us, mate!"

Harry smiled, "First, shower- you'll want to be clean. Soon as I leave. Second, be at the Room
of Requirement at nine-thirty."

"'At only gives us an hour and a half 'till curfew," Seamus protested.

"Only if you get caught," Harry smiled, "and I, for one, don't plan on leaving the Room
tonight. Might bring clothes for tomorrow."

"Good idea," Dean murmured, leaning over for his trunk.

"Anyway, rule three. Be polite. Ask before you give it to anyone. If they say no, that's it.
Don't be a dick, same as with Lyra in the mornings. Rule four: no one not there ever hears
about this. If we get caught, I'm blaming you. And you'll never be invited to one of these little
parties again. Get me?"

"You're throwin' a sex party?" Seamus whispered loudly.

"Sure am. It won't be the last, either. But if you play your cards right, you can go to more
than just this one. So behave. No fighting, either, for what it's worth. Rule, uh, six: if I tell
you it's time to go, I mean it. Don't make me force you. Rule seven... um... never mind, I
guess that- no, wait, this one's really important. Almost as important as not talking about it
afterward- because you never know who's invisible, listening. Rule seven: Don't, I repeat, do
not, ejaculate inside someone unless they have given you express permission to do so before
you do. Is that clear? If I find you've gotten someone pregnant... I'll fucking cut your balls
off. Clear?"

Both Dean and Seamus looked up at Harry with surprise and laughter at first, then paled- yes,
even Dean- at the look in his eyes.

"C- Clear," both said.

"Alright," Harry smiled then, clapping his hands, "Shower, bring a change of clothes, nine-
thirty. That's about twenty minutes, so hurry."
"Fekk yeah," Seamus whispered, dashing past Harry in his rush to get to the showers.

"Oh, and Dean?"

The other boy looked up from his trunk, clothes in hand, "Lyra might call this a favor you
owe her... keep both him and you quiet, and you'll keep getting rewarded, alright?"

"Yes, Master," Dean whispered, his eyes flashing white. Then he shook his head, stood up,
and followed his best friend into the showers.

"Good to know that worked," Harry murmured to himself as he stepped out of the room. He
had some preparations to do in the Room with Ron now that his first errand was done.

In deference to Ginny's tastes, Harry and Ron had elected to give her the kind of place for the
ritual that would have shocked most people: a replica of the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. The
only change, aside from the fact that both now knew that even walking to the far wall would
break the illusion of the wide space, was the addition of a 'mattress' of cloud-stuff that gave
just enough to be soft, yet was stable enough to walk on easily. It wasn't at all wet, but proved
surprisingly comfortable.

It was dark in the Room when they stepped out, the 'sky' above lit only by stars and a waxing
quarter-moon, but the misty 'bed' reflected both enough to show the faintest shade of green in
the false grass.

Out in the halls, there were still a few students heading to or from one place or another, but
this late most of the students were older, and those dwindled quickly since the vast majority
were either working on school-work or more carnal activities. The curfew for N.E.W.T.-level
students was ten-thirty, but most were in their Common Rooms long before that.

They only had to wait a few minutes before Hermione, Ginny and Lyra came up the staircase
nearby, chatting animatedly about some facet of magic that seemed to fascinate all three.
Without a word, the two boys followed the girls into the room, closing the door behind them
in a 'tunnel' space that would have been where the Gryffindor Locker Room was.

Ginny was the first to spot the room's appearance, and she stopped mid-step, stunned. "The...
the Pitch. It's perfect. Thank you!"

The snog she gave Harry would have curled his toes even a few weeks ago, but still sent a
powerful quiver through his body as he leaned low to return the favor, "You're welcome, Pet.
But the bed and pitch were Ron's idea. Thank him too."

She flushed, but nodded, "I will... maybe not the same way."

Then she and the other girls left Harry and Ron alone again to wait for the others the ginger
started explaining one feature they'd added, then the next. It didn't shock him that Seamus
and Dean were the next to arrive, both still moist from their showers, but he bade them to
wait outside for 'just a few minutes' with him, taking much amusement from Seamus' visible
nervousness.
Finally, Hannah and Neville arrived, and he smiled, standing up from his lean against the
wall, "Okay, that's everyone."

Then, with a final look around the otherwise empty hall, he opened the door once more,
followed the others in, and locked the door from the inside. Something, he knew, that would
prevent anyone without the exact specifications of the Room of Requirement's current
configuration from opening it from the outside. At least, not without blowing the wall open,
and he doubted that would work given the strange non-space the Room seemed to occupy.

After all, he'd paced off the space between the unused rooms on either side. Twenty feet
between the other rooms did not allow a ninety foot tall, six-hundred square-foot room with
illusion-covered walls inside. No way at all... without magic.

"So, er, wh- how's everyone doin'?" Seamus asked softly once they, too, had come out onto
the pitch to see the girls and Ron now seated on the cloud-bed, Ginny looking a bit nervous
too.

"Great," Harry said, and he meant it. He felt alive somehow in a way that only sex could give
him, but they hadn't even started. The very anticipation of this night and what it could mean
for him, for all of them, had his nerves buzzing with anticipation. "So... again, to remind
everyone, this is mostly about Ginny. You're allowed to do as you will so long as it doesn't
infringe on someone else's fun. Lyra is in charge, though, since she's the one that'll mostly be
performing the ritual. So, um... any questions? Should we get started?"

"I'm ready," Ginny murmured softly, looking wide-eyed at the variety of people in the room,
one of whom she had been dating until quite recently. Now, if Dean had his way, Harry was
sure they'd be lovers, too, even though Ginny had broken it off with him because he wanted
more than she would give to anyone but Harry himself.

"Excellent," Lyra said tenderly, "then I'll get things started, shall I?" Then she leaned in
toward Ginny and lifted a hand to her jawline, pressing in with a gentle kiss that nonetheless
bore the smaller witch to the 'bed' with a soft moan.

Though Lyra and Ginny soon began snogging in earnest, Harry was distracted by watching
the other six teens share one awkward, shy look after another. He couldn't really blame them,
he didn't exactly know where to begin, either. Starting in on Ginny or Lyra would be fun, and
of course he had plenty of himself to go around, but he didn't want to leave the two
established 'couples' to their own devices, because that would further leave Seamus and Dean
hanging.

But what could he do to get things started?

For a moment of several, he debated asking Hermione to show Hannah how she had
entertained the whole dorm the previous week. He didn't want to scare the blonde girl off, or
give her the wrong idea of what this was all about, so he quickly changed his mind.

Then a flash of inspiration hit him. It was still risky, but less so, he hoped.
The problem wasn't necessarily that his friends were scared to begin (nervous might be a
better word), it was more a lack of knowing how. They were, for the most part, eager to
participate, but either didn't want to seem too forward, or... no, that was likely the main thing.

The solution, then?

Some kind of ice-breaker.

Hmm... I wonder if...

"Hermione?"

The girl jumped, quickly turning her eyes to him, aside from a longing glance in Ron's
direction, "Yes?"

"Not that it's a competition, but can you tell me the names of every guy you've given head
to?"

Her look of shock made him laugh as she exclaimed, "Harry!"

"Relax, Hermione," he said placatingly, "We're all friends here. Besides, it's not like Hannah's
a blushing virgin. She was the first human to blow me, in fact."

"Still," his best friend retorted, red-faced, "you can't just ask me that!"

Voice much more calm, yet strangely challenging, Hannah started talking, "Harry, of course,
and obviously Neville. But most of mine I don't know the names of, or who they are. Most of
the Hufflepuff Quidditch team I think, three guys on one night last year that I think were in
Ravenclaw, and a few Gryffindors. All told, not counting guys I've blown more than once, I
think I'm at... seventeen men? Something like that."

Neville's mouth fell open along with most of the others in the room. "S- Seventeen?"

"I think so," the witch replied, turning a defiant look toward Neville, "I told you I'd practiced
before you with other blokes. Why, is it a problem that I wanted that practice so that when the
one I fancied finally noticed me, I could keep him happy?"

"Er, N- No, of course not. I just... seventeen..."

"Yes," Hannah shot back at once, "And at your urging, I asked Harry to pop my cherry so you
didn't have to hurt me, and the two of you are the only ones I've been with, and I stopped
practicing the moment we got together. At least, practicing on anyone else."

"It's fine," Neville hurriedly returned, "It... It isn't like I've, um... been... ex- exclusive..."

Sensing imminent danger, Harry interjected, "For the rituals. Mostly. He's been with..."

"Everyone here?"

Both Harry and Neville nodded.

"Well, if you're shagging three other girls behind my back, I don't see a problem with me
spreading my legs for every bloke here!"

"That- that's not the-"

Harry put a hand on Neville's shoulder and he went silent, "I don't think he's disagreeing with
you, Hannah. It is 'fair'. I think what Neville is trying to say- and correct me if I'm wrong
here- is that you don't know the whole story.

"If you do this, it's not a one-time thing. It's not just an intense, one-time bit of youthful fun
anymore. If you do this ritual... well, I'm not saying there's no going back, but..."

It was Hermione, quiet and low, who finished the thought, "You'll be one of us, Hannah. Not
just our friend, but, well, we will be expecting you to do more than just keep our activities
secret. We will expect you to participate again. Neville... would have to get used to the idea
of you regularly being with other people, and you will need to do the same for him. Unless
you or he decide to break things off with each other, he'll still be your boyfriend. That doesn't
have to change. The rest..."

Hermione looked toward the other two Gryffindor boys in turn, and Harry held up a hand to
forestall her, "The same won't apply to Seamus and Dean. Theirs is a one-time offer. It might
get made again in the future, and it might not. You two will get a great night, maybe
tomorrow too, and in return Ginny gets her new magic, and this ritual never happened."

"Wha'?" Seamus blurted, "We're gonna have a roll with a fine set of birds, an' we can't even
tell no one?"

"No," Harry said firmly, "you can't. Go spreading this around, tell one person not already in
the room, and every single person here will make your life hell. Play by the rules, and this
probably won't be the last time. So, as you put it, you could 'roll with a set of fine birds' more
than once, or we do our best to ruin you. You tell me if that's worth it."

Seamus looked to Dean for support or help, but the taller boy was now focused on the two
girls making out on the misty 'bed', where Lyra had a hand inside Ginny's blouse over her
chest, and the witch in turn had pulled up Lyra's skirt and was curling her fingers inside the
leg of the Succubus' knickers. After a few seconds, Seamus huffed, "Fine. It's worth it,
yeah?"

Proving she was listening despite the distraction of Lyra's tongue dancing on her lips, Ginny
moaned, "Totally worth it."

Harry grinned at the look of longing in his roommate's eyes toward the two girls, "So...
Seamus? Your word it never leaves this room?"

With obvious reluctance, Seamus nodded curtly, "Yeah, I- I promise I won't talk about all
this."

"Dean? You'll keep it quiet, make Lyra happy?"

The black boy's response was not just delayed several seconds, but slurred, as if he had been
drinking heavily, "... Yeah... Make Mistress happy..."

Ignoring the strange reply since he could guess why even if no on else could divine the
reason for it, Harry looked next to Hannah. "What about you? Do you really want in on this?"

With no visible hesitation, Hannah nodded sharply enough to make her plaits sway, "I do. I...
I love Neville, and he's great as a lover, but... I'd be lying if I wasn't... curious."

"Brilliant," Ron said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. Then he pulled his shirt
over his head and tossed it onto the dew-covered 'grass'. "Well, Hermione? How many
todgers have you drained?"

The question, so similar to one Harry had already asked but significantly different in tone,
was met with an angry elbow to the tall wizard's chest, "Don't be so crass, Ronald! And in
answer to your very inappropriate query, I... four- no, thirteen. Seven Muggle boys over
summer, for the- well, the same reasons as Hannah I expect, and those in this room."

Harry glanced with her in Lyra's direction, remembering that night the previous summer as
well when she had stayed with him and Sirius, and Lyra had shown the girl just how mutable
her body could be. Good times.

"Who's your favorite, then?" Ron asked, clearly unhurt but stepping safely out of Hermione's
reach as he asked, grinning widely.

"Not yours," the girl shot back, "and it won't be happening again if you keep putting me on
the spot like that!"

"Sorry, sorry," Ron laughed, holding up his hands, "I'll be good. Let me try again, yeah?
Hermione, my dear, my love, would you please put your amazing mouth on my hard cock
and make me the luckiest bloke in this room?"

Hermione wavered, then started visibly fighting back an amused grin. Then she laughed, and
stepped toward him, "Fine, fine... since you asked nicely."

But Hannah took one step toward them as Hermione was starting to sink to her knees, "No-
no... I... I want to. Can I? You've blown Neville, right?"

Hermione stood back up slowly, giving a calculating look to the Hufflepuff. "I have. I don't
mind if he doesn't. Harry?"

"I want to watch it," the dark-haired wizard said with a grin, "What about you, Neville? Want
to see your girl go down on our friend here?"

"Yeah, I do," the other, slightly taller boy replied quietly, "I liked watching her with you.
Does that make me weird?"

"Nah," Seamus answered for him, "She's fit, yeah? Right sexy. I wanna watch. But I
wanna..."
Hannah stopped half-way to Ron, though, and looked toward Lyra and Ginny, then Harry.
"It's... he's like Neville, right? He can go again soon? It won't... mess things up for the ritual?"

Harry shook his head, "Ron could tell you he'll be ready in just a few seconds after. But the
ritual started the moment those two started snogging. From here on, you can just... do as you
will. Pull it out and wank if you want, or ask for some oral attention. Hell, if Seamus is really
interested in losing his virginity, I'm sure Ginny wouldn't mind."

On queue, Lyra rolled away, hopping up from the bed. Ginny, in turn, turned lust-darkened
eyes down her slender body toward one of the boys then the next, Harry twice, before turning
back to Seamus. "It'd be an honor, Seamus," she whispered, then reached under her skirt to
push her knickers down her legs, leaving the rest of her clothing as it was. Once the white
cotton was around only one ankle, she hiked that foot onto the edge of the bed and let her
legs fall open.

Seamus and Dean weren't the only ones hard by then, but Ron's attention was firmly on
Hannah as she looked away from his sister's cunt to Ron's face. She put her hands on his
shoulders for balance, then knelt smoothly as if she'd had ample practice, and reached for his
zipper.

Hermione stood over Ron as Hannah freed him, giving his erection a prod then a long stroke
with a fingertip down his length, before putting a gentle kiss at the end of his great length.
"You're longer than anyone except Harry," she whispered, looking up at Ron, then Hermione,
"How do you hold him all?"

Hermione shrugged casually, then moved to stand behind Ron, one hand with her wand
conjuring a small step-stool so she could look down his body, almost seeing what her
boyfriend saw, as Hannah's lips began to pepper soft kisses along the slender rod.

Lyra, meanwhile, stepped in front of Harry, leaned in, and whispered, "While they're
distracted, I'll entertain Dean and reinforce his Thralldom. Keep the others focused on their
targets for now, Master. They won't be as accepting of his tastes as you were."

Harry nodded, giving her another admiring look as the clothes faded away and her body
shrunk back down to resemble a second-year's, the same she'd been when Dean was first
enthralled, and moved past Harry.

He took two steps to his right, and nudged Seamus forward, "Come on, mate. She's ready-
you nervous?"

"N- Nah," the short-haired boy stuttered, but Harry could tell quite easily that he was.

He leaned in conspiratorially, "Listen, this isn't the big deal people make it out to be. Sure, it's
great, and you'll feel a bit different tomorrow, but it's not that big a thing. Just put your
'shillelagh' in her twat and move back and forth. Simple. Maybe she won't enjoy it this time,
maybe she will, but you'll get better with practice. She understands that."

"Maybe," Seamus muttered, then shook his head. "Nah, you're- you're right, Harry. Listen,
you're a good bloke. Not too many I know would let one of their friends shag their girl.
Especially since we haven't always been on the best terms. Even more since last year."

Harry shrugged, giving him another nudge at the top of his back, "I'm a forgiving bloke. Go
on. Have fun."

Seamus stepped forward between Ginny's legs and she scooted back for him, allowing him to
climb carefully over her. Only... as excited as he clearly was, there was a slight issue.

"Relax," the girl whispered, reaching a hand between them to slowly begin to tug him to full
hardness, "you'll do fine."

Seamus nodded, clearly embarrassed, but doing his best to put the others or his shame from
his mind. "D- D'you mind if I- if we- snog?"

Ginny surprised Harry by shaking her head, "No, sorry. No snogging. How about you play
with my tits?"

The Irish boy's eyes widened, "R- Really?"

Ginny smiled, "I love having them touched... or licked, or sucked on."

Harry was unprepared for the faint bit of jealousy that suddenly reared up as Seamus pushed
the half-unbuttoned blouse to either side and tugged the deep red bra down to reveal the fist-
sized mounds. "Damn," the boy muttered, then leaned down to begin to suckle, the other
awkwardly being fondled with his free hand.

Harry shook his head, knowing that the jealousy he was feeling was irrational. He wanted
Seamus to enjoy himself, and he wanted Ginny to as well. It would help keep the former
quiet in hopes of a repeat, and his Pet truly wanted as much sex as she could get. Besides,
there was a whole weekend in front of them for Harry to enjoy. He could give them this,
right?

Wasn't that how it worked?

The added stimuli of having Ginny's body beneath him and her hand on his dick had Seamus
hard again quickly, his nerves faded or nearly so. Ginny whispered, "Okay, I'll help you aim...
now, just... push. That's- mm... that's it..."

Ginny had closed her eyes and smiled, one hand moving to the back of Seamus' short-
cropped brown hair, "That feels good. Move, Seamus... in and out. Don't stop with my tits,
but move. Yes, that's it..."

Harry found himself, jealousy included, smiling. Ginny clearly did enjoy sex, whether it was
the Runes she'd been given by Lilith that enhanced her lust or not, and he couldn't begrudge
her the pleasure of it, especially not after being wound up by Lyra's amazing snogging for
several minutes.

But another moan to his left distracted Harry again, and he looked to see Hannah squinting,
eyes watering badly with mascara was running down her face. Hermione was behind Ron, the
blonde on her knees before him, with Hermione's hand on the back of her head, pulling the
Hufflepuff's face against Ron's stomach. "There you go, Hannah... relax. Just relax. He's not
as big as Harry... maybe a little longer, but you can do this. Yes, there you go..."

Ron, meanwhile, had thrown his head back onto their mutual girlfriend's shoulder and had
one hand twisted up in her free one, the other resting on Hannah's head, though not guiding
her as Hermione was. But the moment the smartest witch of the age released the Hufflepuff,
she yanked backward, hacking twice, "S- shit," Hannah gasped, eyes wide, "I can't believe...
it's at least ten inches!"

"Eleven," Hermione murmured softly, "My men have the biggest dicks in the school... well,
after tonight, our men, even if I'm their girlfriend... but I can count Neville too, right?"

"Merciful Circe," Hannah exhaled, "if... yes, after tonight... Come on, help me again."

He grinned as Hermione and Ron both smiled, then turned the other way to see the pink-
haired, tiny body slammed up against the 'wall' of the changing rooms, pressed nearly flat
against it, yet gasping in pleasure as Dean hammered in with his own huge dick from behind.
Even from the back, Harry could see a reflection of shining pink on the walls before both
Dean's and Lilith's eyes. Good...

In front, Seamus was now moving with some semblance of a good rhythm, though he'd
clearly lost focus on Ginny's chest, and was now looking down between their bodies, held up
with both arms extended. Harry smiled, rolled his eyes and reminded himself that he hadn't
been all that good a lover at first, either. There was time.

Still, he stepped closer, right behind Seamus in fact, and crouched down to get a close-up
view of the average-sized dick as it tugged quickly at Ginny's softer flesh. Perhaps he knew
Harry was back there, or maybe it was just his first time and he was unprepared for how good
Ginny's softness felt as it enveloped his penis. Seamus had already begun to pant, his
breathing growing desperate, and then grinned as he grunted, "I- can I inside? Fuck, s- soon,
I'm so close!"

"On my tits," Ginny gasped, "Come on my tits!"

He didn't make it. Seamus did pull out, but he didn't have the control yet to make it up her
body. Instead, hand moving quickly on his length, he jetted out all over Ginny's stomach and
the insides of her thighs, one globule landing on the right side of her trimmed labia. "Fekkin'
hell," Seamus muttered, still stroking himself, looking dazed, "That was..."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Ginny said sincerely.

Before the others could say anything, Lilith as Lyra once again, stepped up next to Harry.
"Okay, Seamus, this might be weird, but it's part of the ritual and it'll help."

Then she scooped up some of his jizz, and lifted his shirt- he was still almost fully dressed-
and began to draw on his stomach, too.

"Er... what the 'ell?"

There was just one Rune, repeated only three times, and one that Harry recognized: the same
that Lilith had told the others was one of the 'stamina' runes, but that she had confided in him
was purely a lust-recycler. With just three layers, it would last a few hours or a day at most,
she had told him. But until it did fade, it would be very hard for any human with the Rune to
decrease their libido. Any feelings of lust or arousal only built up, and up.

Quickly, Seamus grew hard again, and he grinned down at his stomach, "Wicked! Ginny?"

"In my mouth this time, Seamus," she murmured, rising to stand beside them and the 'bed',
"Here, lie back."

He did so hesitantly, giving the cloud-like surface another prod, then grinned as he squirmed,
finding it quite comfortable indeed. Ginny slowly undressed him, then her hands started
working Seamus' cum across her pale exposed skin while he watched. Once it was nearly
invisible, she pushed her skirt down to her ankles and stepped out of it, the knickers
somehow still around her right ankle. Then she sank to her knees, too. "Hermione sucked you
in the dorm, huh? She's better than me, but..."

"I ain' complainin'," Seamus moaned as Ginny leaned in.

"Good idea," Harry chuckled, reaching down to pet his Pet's head, the other moving to grope
Lyra's pert arse. "You don't need that load of cum?"

"I can still gather it," Lyra told him, "No reason not to enjoy the show. But no, not really.
With the Rune I just put on him, he's good for a half-dozen at least, maybe more. Your friend
may not be the biggest or have the most skill, but he's quick to rebuild his energy. The Rune
will only help. Besides... It's more the number of people participating in this ritual that helps
than the amount of fluids we gather."

Hannah, meanwhile, had gotten Ron close to completion, and he looked that way to hear
Hermione urge, "Swallow it, Hannah! Swallow all of Ron's fat, white load!"

Ron gave a grunt, and slammed his whole length down the blonde's throat once more, the
first time he'd taken control as far as Harry could tell, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

Then Hermione was beside her, and licking his tip, cheeks hollowing as she sucked out the
last few drops. Then the blonde gasped as Hermione turned her head to the side and kissed
her, hard and deep. Once they separated, Hannah, gasping, muttered, "What're you- what're
you doing?"

Hermione shrugged, grinning mischievously, "Did you not like it?"

"W- Well, I..."

Then Hermione stood, tugging up Hannah by the tie she still wore, and pulled her over to the
cloud a few feet to Ginny's left, and sank down onto it, still pulling the girl over her. "No one
said it was just the boys you'd be with," she whispered, "and I've recently learned I like
kissing girls very much, too."
She kissed Hannah again, one hand moving around her back, the other softly holding the
other girl's large breast. After a few seconds, the hand on Hannah's back moved further down,
spider-walking to the bottom of her skirt, then lifted it before settling on the large, round
buttocks. "Ron... do you want to fuck Hannah from behind while I'm beneath her?"

"Yeah, I do," Ron said, smile evident in his voice, "Do you want that, Hannah?"

The girl, mouth now occupied by Hermione again, didn't answer aside from to moan and give
a little wiggle with her rear.

"Pet," Harry murmured to Lyra, turning his attention to her with one hand on her hip and the
other on her chest, "did you help out Dean, too?"

"I did, Master," she murmured, "do you want me to blow you? I'm sure the talk has gotten
you excited..."

"Mm... That does sound good. But let's hold off. How about you show Seamus what you can
do after Ginny's done with him? I'll enjoy you later. I think I'd like to see what Dean can do to
Ginny's tight little cunt. Wouldn't that be sweet, Pet?"

Both the Succubus and the witch blowing his dorm-mate at his feet moaned in anticipation,
while Harry stepped behind Lyra, moving both hands to her full chest. Of all the girls, only
she was nude, but after a few seconds more, Ginny stood up to rectify that situation, then
climbed up onto Seamus again, "Sorry, I was going to finish you that way," she murmured,
"but I got randy again. You don't mind, do you?"

"Fekk no," Seamus laughed, then groaned as she sank back onto him without needing to aim.

Harry watched over Lyra's dark hair as Ginny began riding Seamus slowly, dragging her tiny,
hard nipples up and down the Irish boy's shirt, her hands clasped against his head. Harry
could see dark spots on the other boy's clothing where the remnants of his previous emission
spread from Ginny's body. There was a trickle of fluid leaking out from where Seamus
plugged the girl's tiny channel, running down his hairy scrotum.

Lyra shifted her rear against his erection, making Harry sigh and pull her closer, then glide
one hand down her solid abs and into her soft folds. "Master... I love how you touch me," she
sighed.

Harry leaned down to begin nibbling on the tendermost spots on Lyra's neck, and looked to
the left where Ron was now pumping two fingers into both Hermione and Hannah. Seeming
to somehow sense Harry looking, the ginger glanced over his shoulder and mouthed, "This is
brilliant!" Then, hands still moving vigorously, he leaned in and tapped Hannah's taint with
his tongue, then started licking rapidly. Hannah groaned, hips moving up of their own accord
to give him better access.

Then Harry remembered Neville, who was standing nearby with an erection rising in one
hand as he stared avidly at the same glorious sight. "Hey, Neville. Feeling lonely? Lyra has
something for you. Dean, too."
"Finally," Neville sighed, dropping his trousers to the grass and shucking his shirt. Once he
had stepped up, Lyra bent at the waist and used Neville to brace herself while she took him in
her mouth. Harry undressed quickly himself, then reached around her waist to finger the tiny
pearl between her legs, and tenderly hold one swaying breast. Then he slid in slowly, the now
familiar flesh welcomed him, tugging and caressing each vein and ridge on his dick. "You
always feel amazing, Lyra."

"Damn, I forgot how good her mouth is, too," Neville murmured.

Dean stepped up on Harry's right, now in the buff as well. Again, Harry was impressed by the
humongous dark brown phallus he carried and felt a pang of jealousy along with some small
insecurity. Then he remembered... he, Harry, was now the larger thanks to the many benefits
Lilith had brought into his life.

Dean reached down for one of the girl's hands, helping the Succubus stroke him. Even though
Lyra was as tall as Hermione, her hand couldn't quite close around him.

Harry was just getting into the swing of things when Seamus cried out, "C- Coming!"

Ginny was off him at once. She spun far enough to close her lips around her plaything's head,
locking them down while the boy twitched and jerked with a mighty orgasm.

"Dean," Harry said, enjoying how even while eating out Hannah and Hermione both, Ron
was distracted by his sister's arse and twat next to his head, "You've always wanted Ginny,
right? Now's your chance."

Dean blinked and shook himself, seeming almost dazed by the question. Some of the wood-
like stiffness left him, and he looked around with evident confusion. "Er... I- yeah. I want to
shag Ginny, yeah."

He reluctantly pulled away from Lyra's hand and walked around Neville. Ginny looked up
from where she was still licking Seamus' flagging shaft and grinned. "I've got to admit, the
first time I felt you when we were snogging scared me. Now... gods I want it in me." Then the
slender witch rolled onto her back between Hermione and Seamus and beckoned Dean closer.

"You're so pretty," Dean whispered, loudly enough for everyone but maybe Hannah and
Hermione, both crying out in pleasure, could hear as he tentatively held out a hand, "You said
I couldn't- couldn't touch you there."

Ginny smiled and held up both arms as if to welcome the tall boy into a hug, "You can
tonight. I'm Harry's, but tonight he wants to share."

"He's mad," Dean replied softly, "I'd never give you up. Gods, Ginny... but if this is all I can
get..."

Dean sank to his knees, put his hands on the inside of the pale knees around him, and spread
them a bit more. Then he leaned in over Ginny and started worshiping the girl's body.
Harry grunted. Dean clearly wasn't an expert in pleasing a woman, but he was singularly
devoted to the task from what he could tell, laving attention upon her with lip, tongue, and
large but soft, uncaloused hands.

Harry smiled then, glad that Dean had his head in the right place even while enthralled,
because even while balls-deep in the amazing body of a true Succubus, he knew that Ginny
deserved to be worshiped.

"Treat her right, Dean," Ron glowered. The red-head was quickly distracted as Hannah came
on his mouth, Hermione on his fingers. There were three digits in her now, with both girls
gasping their climax into the other's mouth. Mid-peak, Ron stood up, took his shaft in hand,
and pushed deep into Hannah.

The girl's gasps morphed at once into cries, half-shrieks, then quieted to a high-pitched keen.
A moment later, Dean's hips rocked and Ginny cried out, filled to the brim with the dark
limb. "Oh Morgana, you're so big!"

His black dorm-mate was, Harry guessed, nine and a half inches long, and maybe two in
diameter from side to side, just a little less girth than Neville, who would have, likely, the
fattest cock in the school if Harry hadn't been able to change this thanks to Lilith's magic.

Dean's huge dick contrasted starkly against the pale pink and white of Ginny's tender skin as
he stretched her so, so wide...

Neville lurched into Lyra's eager mouth, shoving her further onto Harry, the other boy's eyes
screwed tightly shut, jaw clenched in rapture. Harry suddenly wanted to blow too, but yanked
himself out of Lyra's sopping hole, slapping her ass on the way, and stepped into the space
between Ron and Ginny, narrow though it was.

His best mate was clearly enjoying Hannah immensely, sliding in and out of her depths every
second or so. He was only going in about three-quarters of his own prodigious length with
every pump, possibly afraid of hurting her, but the motion was still accompanied by a wet
schlicking, with the slap of skin against skin the perfect percussion to measure the beat of
increasingly needy cries.

"Let her ride you," Harry suggested.

Ron grinned, "Good idea." Without dismounting, Ron shoved his hands around Hannah's
waist between her and Hermione, then rolled to the side, spinning as he did so that she was
sitting on his lap.

"Aww," Hermione pouted almost jokingly, but Harry could tell by her flushed expression that
she was very close to another climax, and hadn't wanted to miss out on it. Harry watched her
pant while Hannah looked toward him even while she started moving up and down on Ron's
lap, the faint bulge of the tip of his dick visible on her stomach due to the angle he was
entering her from. Harry beckoned Hermione to sit up, waited until she did, then turned to
Hannah and finished unbuttoning, slowly, the last few buttons of her blouse that Hermione
hadn't. Then he pushed the white cotton off her shoulders completely and reached toward
Ron, who watched raptly as did Hermione, to unsnap her plain white bra and pull it away.
D-Cups, Harry decided, if anything. Full and just a little sag. Damn... "Hermione, don't you
love the way Hannah's big tits swing while Ron fucks her?"

"I do," the girl exhaled, reaching a hand out, but not touching anyone else.

"And those nips... brown and hard. Don't you just want to taste them?"

"Hmm... yeah, I do..."

Then she leaned over Ron, wrapped both hands almost fully around one of Hannah's breasts
and pulled it up, angling the tip toward her mouth. She flicked a tongue across it, making
Hannah, who still looked surprised, moan. "I... I thought you were straight," she murmured.

Hermione shrugged, pulled her mouth off enough to whisper, "I am, but I do like sex, and
you're beautiful."

Ron leaned back, pulling Hannah briefly away from Hermione, but the bookworm threw a
leg over both of them soon enough and rested her slit over Hannah's, both dripping copious
lubricant, before tucking her head in to suckle at the other breast, too. Harry grinned at seeing
both of them right there, Hannah taking in Ron, Hermione ready and waiting.

He didn't make her wait long before pushing in slowly, all the way to the brim, his tip
nudging open Hermione's cervix. It was a little awkward leaning over and having Ron's face
right there even with two girls between them, so Harry stayed standing, which also gave him
a better view of the fun to the right.

He couldn't see much of Ginny, for Dean was significantly larger, but her whimpers and cries
of pleasure were more than enough to tell him she was happy with how the young black man
was shagging her. He was moving sporadically, though, clearly close enough he was losing
control. Beyond him, Lyra was on Seamus next, riding him like Ginny had done, while
Neville filled her ass from behind, stretching the little pink anus she normally had very
widely indeed.

"Going to cum soon," Ron grunted.

Hannah seemed too lost in pleasure to care, so Harry reluctantly pulled out of Hermione for a
moment, sighed, then reached down to take hold of his friend's dick. Ron grunted again,
"Hey!"

Harry aligned him instead with Hermione, and a few seconds late the ginger was filling her,
shallowly, but spurting each pulse into their girlfriend's eager twat rather than Neville's. As
Ron started to sag, Harry bodily picked up Hermione, then climbed up onto the cloud bed
past the others, and set her down gently on her back. Then he tucked his knees below the
small of her back, and pushed into the cream-filled hole with another sigh.

Dean was next, barely pulling out of Ginny in time without being asked, to spray over her
tiny body. And Seamus, roaring in newfound pleasure as Lyra told him, "It's safe to cum in
me," the Succubus crying out as he did, with Neville in her arse a moment later.
Seamus and Dean, even with Fog of Lust helping them along, begged off for a few moments
to recover, both climbing back onto the 'grass' to stand and watch, wanking back to full mast.
"I need more cocks," Ginny blubbered, "They're so good."

"I want some, too," Hermione murmured, "And I want you to eat my pussy, Gin."

"Yes, you taste- gods, Hermione," the girl cried, reaching out to hold her best friend's hand
over her head.

This time, Harry didn't let her go immediately. Instead, he slammed into Hermione as far as
he could go, and unleashed a torrent of white cream like he hadn't in... maybe ever. Twenty or
more blasts in all, until it filled her womb to visibly bulging, but still squirted out around his
cock to coat his balls and run onto the cloudy surface, where it collected in the mist, neither
soaking in nor vanishing.

Only then did he let Hermione rise to her knees and, holding much of his and Ron's jizz in
her still, knee-walk over to sit on Ginny's face. The other girl giggled, and didn't hesitate to
start 'cleaning' Hermione, who let her head roll back even while one hand pleasured each of
their chests.

Harry was glad of the firmness of the fake bed when he stood up over Ginny, and made use
of Hermione's excellent oral skills as well. Neville, meanwhile, shifted over so that Lyra
could clean him with her own mouth, then, hard again, he switched sides to be with Hannah,
who was watching Hermione and Harry with Ginny, avidly frigging herself.

He pushed into her cunt eagerly, murmuring sweet nothings as he did.

Hannah, though, seemed to be having none of the 'lovey-dovey stuff'. Instead, she wrapped
her thick legs around his waist and begged, "Harder, Neville, harder! Fill me with that fat
cock!"

Not seeing the point of holding back anymore, Harry waited until Ginny had brought
Hermione to another climax with her mouth, then started fucking the eager girl's face with
relish. On the other side, as he blasted down Hermione's throat, Ron had pushed Lyra's knees
up to her head and was shagging down into her with great hammer-blows, nearly out of
control himself, almost like the night he'd first gotten his Runes.

Of course, the Succubus wasn't complaining, and she eagerly let him fill her once he was
ready, too.

Ten minutes or more later, the positions had switched again as Seamus and Dean both re-
entered the group.

They ended up in a sort of curved line of bodies, with Neville again enjoying his girlfriend's
veiny cunt from behind her, and Seamus having his first taste of anal action while Neville
filled her too. But Hannah wasn't done, for her mouth was occupied by Lyra's own hairless
pussy, on hands and knees while she in turn sucked on Dean, her cheeks bulging with the
effort of getting him into her human-sized mouth. And Dean was tasting Hermione for the
first time, so far gone into lust that he didn't seem to care that not just Ron's but now some of
Harry's cum was flecked around her.

Hermione's mouth, meanwhile, held Ron's cock, while Harry spent some quality time with
Ginny on his lap, buried to the hilt in her tiny, tight arse as she writhed, fingering her pussy
and pulling on her tits, both watching the show.

Then they moved again, some having orgasmed and some not. This time, a nearly insensate
Hannah was guided onto Dean's glistening rod until he was fully sheathed, and both were
unable to keep from rutting like animals, the other boy suckling forcefully on the massive tits
hanging in his face. Then Neville forced his own thick schlong into her rectum in a smooth
motion, and Hannah seemed to lose higher brain function. Her soft blue eyes began to roll
back in her head, and her tongue lolled out as she began to repeat, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Don' mind if I do," Seamus, eyes glowing softly white now for some reason Harry didn't
have the capacity to guess, said before shoving his dick in the girl's mouth. She shut up at
once aside from a deep, low moan, but didn't push him out or away.
 Or Physical Enhancement?

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Of course there's also my DISCORD, here, https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG which has all kinds
of fun goodies too. ;)

Merry Christmas, or whatever it is you do or don't celebrate this season. :)

Chap. 38: Or Physical Enhancement?

"Okay, I think they're distracted enough," Lyra murmured, taking a break between shags
herself to stand up and let her form melt into her natural one, with armor, wings, horns and
tail all plainly visible. "I need to save my energy for a bit. Use me if you want, but I need to
rest so I can't be as active."

Neville was the only one with a clear view of Lilith, but he already knew what the Succubus
truly looked like. Dean, Seamus, and Hannah, if they noticed, didn't make any sign of caring,
entirely intent on fucking each other- in this case, fucking Hannah- utterly senseless.

Then the Succubus closed her eyes and lay back, one hand beneath her head, the other idly
playing with one nipple, and opened her legs in case someone wanted to do as she'd said.

Ron, who, as far as Harry knew had never had Lilith like this, seemed intrigued, and pulled
away from Hermione's still sucking mouth to feel one of the Succubus' breasts, then tweak
the dark purple nipple before pulling it into his mouth. Then Hermione was sucking him
again, pushing no fewer than four of her own fingers into Lilith's cunt, looking increasingly
desperate. She shifted again when Ron moved down to taste Lilith's delicious, bubble-gum
flavored folds, though he only did that for a few seconds before he again pulled away from
Hermione and shoved his dick inside the Succubus, rutting madly.

Ginny started throwing herself up and down Harry's dick with abandon, her rectum and anus
squeezing tightly, "Cum in my arse, Harry, so we can keep Hermione company."

"Good idea, Pet," he grunted, obeying her request in just a few seconds. He'd already been
close, and it was getting easier and easier to either hold off or orgasm on command.

Like Hermione's had, Ginny's belly began to distend as he filled her, but as Ron blasted into
Lilith and immediately kept going, he slowly began to settle, allowing his Pet time to slowly
crawl off him, coaxing several shudders of after-shocks from both of them. "Hermione," she
cooed, "Harry has cream on his dick..."

That was all it took for the wild-eyed girl, hair sparking with pent-up magic and frustration,
to pounce, almost throwing Ginny to the side in her haste to gobble him up, uncaring that
he'd been in Ginny's ass a moment earlier.

Hermione's tongue swirled around him anyway, lips and one hand on his base both moving as
fast as ever before. Then Ginny somehow slithered her body beneath Hermione's, and started
eating her out again.

And if Ginny cared that Hermione was full of Ron's spunk, she didn't say a word about it.

That knowledge added another step to Harry's plan for the siblings, one he felt could be
enacted in just a few minutes. But he was over-sexed and really, really wanted to cum in
Hermione's mouth again. He let her control it this time, and was rewarded with her tongue
dancing around his whole, fat head while he gushed out several shots, spreading the girl's
cheeks as her own eyes began to roll. Then she coughed, and a tiny little speck of white came
out of her right nostril.

Hermione began swallowing, gulping down his semen as quickly as she could. Rather
disgustingly she snorted the leaking bit back into her sinuses and swallowed that too, before
releasing him from her mouth. "So much cum..."

"Wanton slut," he whispered endearingly, "you never get enough anymore, do you?"

"Your slut," Hermione whispered, "you and Ron."

Then she leaned down between his legs, and started licking at Ginny, who moaned between
Hermione's own legs.

Ron was slamming into Lilith still, one hand wrapped around the tip of her spaded tail, the
other roughly groping a massive, round tit. Behind him, the others had moved so that Seamus
was on his back, Hannah face-up atop him. Neville was shagging her pussy with the Irishman
in her ass, but Dean was now facing her head with his muscular legs over her abdomen, his
long shaft buried between her tits but the tip entering and leaving Hannah's mouth.

Suddenly, he wanted to try that with... well, all the girls here. But first...

"Ron, you need to let Lilith rest. Come here."

He had to repeat the statement before his friend, enraptured himself, looked his direction.
"Seriously, come fuck Hermione. Lilith needs to rest."

"R- Right. Hermione's cunny..."

Dripping with his own semen and the Succubus', Ron pulled out, knee-walked around the two
sixty-nining girls, and... hesitated.

"Ginny's..."
"Fuck me, Ron!" Hermione cried, "Need you!"

"Alright, alright..." and he pushed in.

Only then did Harry push into Ginny's twat, too. Harry knew he should hold back, go slow
still, but he also knew that he could climax again and again, and he didn't care to stop. So he
fucked harder, instead, shoving his entire length deep into Ginny, crushing past her cervix on
every single push, ripping himself out, and going right back in, never fully leaving her.

Hermione, meanwhile, somehow found an angle to position her head to resume fingering and
licking Ginny's pale folds, tugging softly on occasion, or delivering little nibbles. Her own
cries suggested to Harry that Ginny was at least carefully doing the same to her, or maybe
using only her hands, for some of the half-insane mutterings she started letting loose were his
name, some were Ron's, and the rest Ginny's.

They were like that for a few minutes, before Ron looked down, gasping, "G- Ginny! What're
you- Oh Merlin!"

His body seized, and Hermione's moans deepened as he climaxed into her.

Only when she pushed further forward, head now cocked fully sideways, off of him, did
Harry see...

Ginny was still licking Ron's hanging balls. Then her hand closed around his shaft and started
pumping slowly, gently. The ginger, of course, never softened- not unless he wanted to stop,
for his Runes had been active almost as long as Harry's, even if they weren't as strong.

Still, clearly exhausted, Hermione rolled off of Ginny, one hand holding her pussy closed to
keep Ron's leavings inside as long as possible, the other draped over her chest, while she
panted to catch her breath, staring up at the 'stars' high above.

"The Ritual, Ron," Ginny hissed, still pumping her brother's cock while Harry, slower now,
slid in and out of her cunt, "I have to make you cum, remember?"

Harry did not remember that being part of the ritual, but it was his new plan, working out
perfectly. "She's right, Ron. Let it happen. You know she's a fine bird, let her wank you. Don't
you want to see your cum on her tits?"

His best mate didn't say anything, but neither did he pull away as Ginny went back to flicking
her tongue's tip along the bottom of his scrotum, or move her other hand up to twist and jerk
on his long, long pole.

"Weird," Hermione offered breathlessly, looking down her body to see the siblings' activity,
"but... it's kinda hot."

"Really hot," Harry muttered, flexing his PT muscles to further swell himself in Ginny's
delightfully tight cunt, which was spasming in a clear orgasm though she somehow kept the
normal moans down, maybe to keep her brother from spooking.
Harry kept shagging Ginny until Hermione had caught her breath, though she had only
lightly started rubbing circles on her clit again, and Ginny finally got Ron off, angling him
down, as she'd said, to paint her tits with more white.

And he came a lot. What looked like at least a half-pint of semen dribbled and ran off the
small breasts in rivulets.

Then Lilith was there, eyes half-lidded, "Cum on her, everyone. Either inside or on Ginny.
After everyone has at least once, I can do the Ritual Runes, and then we can just have fun."

Harry kept Ginny's prized cunt for himself for a few minutes until he was ready to blow, and
filled her once more so that she almost looked like she was in the beginning stages of
pregnancy, though her distended stomach emptied a bit with gravity alone, before Dean
asked, "Can I fuck yer ass, Ginny?"

That simple question, fraught as it was, sparked a new wave of energy in everyone, though
Lilith still hung back.

Soon, Dean had stuffed Ginny again from behind, while Neville used her pussy to bring on
another rapid climax, then a second, for he was just too fat in the rod, and the girl too tight,
for him to hold back. She blew Seamus, too, eagerly taking him in her mouth until he
unleashed a weakening jet or three of jizz into her throat.

Hannah meanwhile, inhibitions long-gone now, used Ginny's limp hand like a dildo, shoving
the whole thing, small though it might have been, into her now gaping twat, and rode it like a
cowboy on a rampaging bull.

Taking the cue, Hermione took up Ginny's other hand and did the same. Somehow, twisting
her body, Hermione once more started sucking Ron's entire length down her throat, shagging
her own skull onto him with the same motions that forced his sister's hand into her well-worn
pussy.

Which left Harry and Lilith. The Succubus was looking on, but not even pleasuring herself,
though she smiled in his direction, "Almost done with the 'work' part, Master... as soon as
everyone climaxes."

"But I want mine," he growled.

Lilith shrugged, "Find someone."

The angles for Hannah and Hermione wouldn't work, though, even if Hermione was facing
outward from the group, and Ginny's entire body was occupied as far as he could see. And
while he'd grabbed Ron's cock earlier to keep him from maybe impregnating Hannah, he
wasn't about to do anything like it again unless he had to.

But wait... Hannah's mouth was empty still, and she could be moved.

With only the whites of softly-shining eyes visible, Harry lowered Hannah down onto her
back. With legs spread, she didn't slow down pleasuring herself with Ginny's hand, and her
mouth fell open slackly as she panted. But Harry didn't want her to pass out, so he needed to
control himself. No matter how much he didn't want to.

Then...

Dean's cock between Hannah's tits.

That'd work, and she did have a very nice pair, even bigger than Lyra's.

He threw his leg over her torso and grabbed the outside of both tits, holding them close. But
his dick wouldn't cooperate, it was standing to firm and high. So he pushed it down, but that
made one of Hannah's breasts fall to the side.

Again, Lilith came to his rescue, sliding her cunt over Hannah's mouth. The human girl didn't
begin right away, but the non-human didn't seem to care immediately as she looked into her
Master's eyes with deep affection, "Let me help you, Master."

"Thanks, Pet," Harry groaned as he felt the soft globes mold around his dick, which he angled
down with one hand. With the other, he tweaked and twisted both of Hannah's nips again,
then lifted it to work Lyra's in turn, before leaning down to suckle one. His hips started
moving instinctually, and he groaned, looking down through the narrow gap between Lilith's
perfect tits to Hannah's, his entire cock almost invisible as it sank into the crevasse, only the
tip jutting up to brush over the Hufflepuff's lip and, after a few moments, tongue.

Somehow, over the next two minutes, Harry found such a perfect angle that ninety percent of
him was moving through, tit-fucking Hannah, while his head and the last inch or so of his
cock moved over the girl's mouth, while the top butted up against Lyra's clit again and again.

Soon, even the Succubus was hit by the eroticism of the evening, and began to pant quietly
as, one after the other behind him, each of the other participants had a world-shattering
orgasm, then fell quiet as they rested, catching their breath.

Harry was the last one to go, Hannah now limp and possibly catatonic beneath him, but Harry
pulled back to cover her tits anyway, again and again, before scooping up a hand-ful of his
jizz and slathering it onto Ginny's already-covered stomach.

Then, while everyone else was still panting or passed out, Lilith said quietly, "Alright, that
should be good enough. I'll start working on the Runes, now. If you want to fuck, go ahead,
but if you're using my holes, be gentle- and I need my mouth and hands free. Same with
Ginny, leave her mouth free and don't go hard so she doesn't shake."

Harry stood up, "Loo," and moved into the hall they'd entered from what must have been
three hours or more earlier to relieve himself.

When he came out, a glance at the wall-clock told him the time was nearly two in the
morning. As he entered the fake Quidditch Pitch again, though, Harry had to pause to admire
his- their- handiwork.
Lilith was straddling Ginny's face- clearly, her mouth being free was for the Succubus'
benefit, not a real need, though he couldn't blame her- and covering what looked like every
surface of the front half of Ginny's body in intricate, small runes from a hovering globe of
mixed semen and squirt some two feet in diameter, from which Lilith was drawing a
constant, small stream as her ink.

All 'round the pair were bodies, all now completely nude. To the left, Hermione and Ron held
each other close, but Seamus clutched the girl's leg and had a hand in her pubic curls, his
cock hanging to the side and cum-free but still wet with saliva. At Ginny's feet was Dean,
face down, one hand on the petite red-head's ankle, and at his feet, Neville, who'd crawled
over to Hannah, resting his head on her own now jizz-free stomach, with one of each of their
hands intertwined.

Ginny's hands, in turn, were now palm-up on either side of her, as if she were some sort of
offering to the Succubus or maybe the sky, with her legs spread enough to shag, but not to
openly invite it.

Some of them, by the quiet snores, were asleep.

But Lilith worked on, seeming rested. and Harry wasn't yet tired despite the heavy activity.
He looked back and forth between the girls available, then shrugged, and stepped to the right.
"Pardon me," he murmured, pulling Hannah from beneath Neville and hiking up one knee,
"I'm not done yet. You don't mind?"

Neville weakly waved a hand and let it fall limp. Hannah gurgled, and opened her legs wider,
eyes closed.

He entered, glad that girls were so elastic, and that Hannah was just as tight and corrugated as
ever, as she massaged his ridges and folds with her own, and held his whole length once he'd
come fully inside.

It was an entirely different sort of fun, in some ways, Harry decided, shagging someone who
wasn't participating actively (willingly, though, as far as he could tell), literally using them
for his own pleasure but without the sense of domination and control given by being more
forceful.

He liked it... but wasn't sure he'd do such a thing regularly. He held back from climax for
more than two hours, though even half-conscious or less Hannah had blown through no fewer
than five of her own, before Lilith gently raised her hands to Ginny and rolled her over onto
her stomach, then began drawing another set all along the other half of the small body,
beginning with a small circle around her anus and spiraling outward in one ring after another.

In fact, by the time Harry let himself pump Hannah full of his endless supply of seed, she was
awake and panting again, a hand on each nipple, tugging and pulling harshly, while her
tongue lashed across Neville's tip, though he was not yet awake.

"Early start, eh?" Ron murmured, "Can't say I'm gonna complain."
He heard Hermione choke and cough, and turned his head to see Ron balls-deep in her
mouth. "Sorry for the wake-up, Hermione, but I gotta have you."

In response, the girl's hands sought out his while he started rutting on her face, and pulled
him down to nestle his head beneath her legs. Once he was in position to begin cunnilingus,
she moved her hands to Ron's lightly-haired, pale arse and started guiding him, pulling him
into her mouth deeper and harder.

"You really love sucking cock, don't you, Hermione?" Harry asked with a chuckle, and
started to pound Hannah harder. He wanted to finish with her, now, and make use of his
friend's early-morning glory holes.

"Mf rfmmy foo," she tried to say around Ron's cock.

He thought about pulling out... but Hannah had repeatedly asked him to do it inside, and Lyra
could pull it out if she didn't want him to. So he didn't ask, this time. Instead, he put his hands
over hers and gave both round globes on her chest a hard squeeze as he flexed and drenched
the girl's womb. A full minute later, Harry watched Ron cum and have it all swallowed, or
more accurately, move the rest of the way down Hermione's throat, and waited until his
friend had stood back up to pull Hermione's head toward him, in turn.

"I'll suck you both every day of my life," she murmured, then set to doing just that,
interspersed with more comments, "Love you both, Ron, Harry. Love Ginny, love Lilith.
Love sex."

"Love you, bookworm," Ron said, still hard, "but I'm gonna go shag Hannah while I can.
Back in a bit."

Neville, apparently, beat him to it, Hannah writhing atop him while he groped her swinging
chest, but she obligingly shifted and suggested, "Now that I'm used to two cocks, put it in my
ass, Ron!"

"If you want," he laughed, and slapped her plump cheeks after his cock had disappeared into
her body.

Things hadn't changed much over the next half-hour, each of the boys more than able to hold
off for a while now, especially sated as they had been over the last several hours, until
Seamus woke up with morning wood.

Hannah was the first to spot him, "Oh, Gods, please let me suck it!"

"Er... that a'right, Nev?" Seamus asked sleepily.

"Sh- shit, y- yeah," Neville grunted, clearly mid-climax.

Like Ron, he didn't soften, though, and kept moving inside his girl's deep hole, while Seamus
awkwardly moved into position over Neville's head, "S- Sorry if I'm too clos- oh shit!"

Hannah hadn't hesitated, immediately taking the third boy into her. Seamus wasn't Rune-
enhanced, though, and only lasted about a minute and a half before Hannah somehow
swallowed his whole load. "Goddess," she muttered, smacking his goo between her tongue
and the top of her mouth, "I'm such a slut."

"You're my Huffleslut," Neville muttered, "and I love you for it."

"Huffleslut?" Ron laughed, "I like it. Thanks for letting me use you, Huffleslut."

"Do it," Hannah cried, "Do it! Use me!"

Harry came when Ron did, Neville again a moment later. By then, Dean was awake too. "Er...
Hermione?"

"Put your big black cock in my pussy," Hermione murmured, "Fill me with cum, Dean..."

Watching him stretch her open, too, was enough to push Harry over the edge, and he let loose
in her mouth once more. But he was hardly sated, and ordered, "Get on top of him,
Hermione... I want to try something new."

She did, twisting around so she was facing upward at him, both Dean and herself bracing her
upper torso, while Harry moved between her legs. "Now... Dean, tell me if this bothers you.
Hermione... I love you."

It was... strange. Not entirely pleasant, having his shaft directly alongside the other boy's, but
it was still more obvious that he was the larger of the two, as Dean moved gently in and out
of Hermione, having elected to take his time with this round.

That, in turn, made it easier for Harry to carefully line himself up, the bottom of his shaft
laying against Dean's hot, lubricated one, and push in slowly.

Hermione gasped as his tip hit her labia minora, "H- Har- Harryyy! Oh, my God!"

He understood her amazement. Watching her take most of Dean and half of his own size in
her cunt was spectacular. She was stretched so wide, he could feel every ridge of her against
his top. "You- you alright, Dean? Hermione?"

"F- fuck... never thoughta'... shit," Dean muttered, "I- I guess it's fine. So tight, like a little-
er-"

Hermione, in turn, moaned, "So fucking full! Do it, Harry... I can't wait for you and Ron to do
this!"

He pushed in the rest of the way, feeling not only Hermione's exquisite channel against him
in incredible detail, but Dean's own fat head as it was passed by his own, eventually nesting
in the curvature below his own... and Hermione's cervix somehow stretched far enough to
hold both.

"Oh shit," Harry murmured, "I... I can't stop. I don't want to stop."

He started humping, gasping at the intensity of it all, no longer caring that Dean's dick was
providing half the friction. All he cared about in the next several minutes was the pleasure,
knowing that Hermione was in heaven, that he was helping her get there, and definitely
bringing him along for the ride. There was no coordination between him and the other boy, so
sometimes they were in sync, making Hermione's own generous chest bounce and sway in
circles, and others moving in opposition, increasing the friction but making Hermione's body
shake and tremble with the counterpoint motion.

Then Ron came over, cum dripping from his tip, and presented it to Hermione, placing his
hands on her chest.

She swallowed him at once, and just as quickly, began to climax. Deep, rolling, and
incredibly intense, Harry felt every clutch and shudder of her vagina against him. And it
didn't stop, One wave after another, again and again, until Dean grunted, shoved himself in as
far as he could go, and did his best to impregnate the girl, as she'd asked. He was still
pumping seed when Harry joined him, but unlike Dean, who began to soften even while
inside her, Harry didn't let up until, half-hysterically, Ron hissed, "She looks preggers," then
came inside their girl's mouth again.

Slowly, things quieted over the next hour and a half, while Lilith finished Ginny's Runes. In
that time, of course, everyone had at least one more round, though Dean and Seamus were
more than spent afterward, even looking gaunt and pale, dehydrated. The others, though, kept
going for another round each, Hermione happily taking on Neville, Ron, and Harry for two
more full climaxes each, with her hands on her swollen belly as if to welcome the idea of a
child, though Harry knew perfectly well she wasn't pregnant yet.

... Even if she would be, soon. Maybe.

But unlike the last time Ginny had had Runes from Lilith's people set on her body, this time
she did not go wild with the need for more sex. Instead, already asleep from the gentle,
massage-like drawings, she completely passed out.

Harry, in fact, didn't know they were done, rutting on the unconscious Hannah's rump this
time, until Lilith collapsed backward, panting, looking as wiped out as he'd ever seen her.
"Done, Master," she murmured, "I... I'm done. Rest... that takes so much out of me... when
she wakes... fuck... fuck'er... then... m...me..."

He, of course, had seen the Succubus sleep a few times now, though she had originally
claimed not to need to.

But this sleep seemed... deeper, even though it had just begun, the sleep of true exhaustion.

Still, Harry nodded, feeling sated once more after emptying another load into the Hufflepuff
member of the group. "Okay... everyone... everyone can rest. Thanks, you guys."

"Nah," Seamus murmured sleepily, "thank you, Harry."

 Experimentation
Chapter Summary

Trigger Warnings for this one: Genderbending. It won't be SUPER common in the story,
but it does happen a few times. This is one of them. It's pretty much all Harry, too (but
of course Lilith does some).
Also discussions of incest.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 39: Experimentation

After they'd all woken up, eventually Seamus, Dean, Hannah, and Neville staggered up and
dressed for a quick run down to their dormitories, the latter two hoping no one would notice
the lack of a change in clothing, and to lunch, which was served over two and a half hours on
weekends.

Hermione left a little while later, though she said she would meet them in the private
common room after showering herself, and Ron left with her.

Ginny, who woke up the last of all of them, peered around the still night-lit Quidditch Pitch
appearance of the Room of Requirement with some measure of confusion before shaking her
head and blushing. Harry, already dressed, had decided to let Lilith remain in the room to
sleep, which should keep its form until she left it. So he helped the human girl, who was
strangely quiet, dress herself and walked with her through the equally quiet lunchtime halls
of Hogwarts until they were safely ensconced in his private room where Ginny left him
behind for a shower while he used the public WC and then the spare shower in the room
neither Ginny nor Hermione were using.
He was still towel-clad, no longer having much body shame when it came to his friends, as
he entered his room again to seek out clothing. Then he stopped and looked. Ginny was still
nude, though her skin glistened, freckles standing out more than normal from the heat of her
own shower, almost steaming as she stared blankly at the floor, hands folded in her lap.

"Uh... Gin? You alright?"

She gave a half-shrug, not saying anything.

"Do... do you feel alright? Is it a... a power, or something? Did you get hurt last night?"

Ginny shook her head, and whispered, "N- no, nothing... nothing like that."

He hardly had to focus to gain an erection with a naked girl he loved in his room, but Harry
did have to fight to control himself from taking her again as he walked across the room,
letting the towel fall, to sit beside her and put a hand around her shoulders. "What's bothering
you, then?"

"I'm sick," she whispered, still looking downward.

He moved a hand to her forehead, then her collar. "You don't feel warm. I-"

"No," Ginny half-sobbed, "not... ill. I mean... I'm disgusting, perverted..."

Harry blinked, "I- I thought you wanted to do the ritual? Isn't it... do you want to stop? We
can- well, you can- just be with me, if you want."

"No," Ginny half-cried and half-laughed again, putting a hand on his thigh, though she
yanked it right back and shifted out of his arm, leaving it to fall on the bedspread, unused for
a day but freshly made. "I... in my head. I don't mind the sex, and I meant it when I said I'd
shag anyone you wanted me to. But there's... more."

"Okay," Harry exhaled slowly, "I'm still not sure what you're getting at. Why don't you just
tell me? I won't laugh or judge you, I swear."

She was quiet for several minutes, then whispered, "Ron. It's- it's about Ron."

"Okay... did he annoy you?"

Ginny shook her head, and put her hand in a circle, moving it to her mouth in a motion that
reminded Harry strongly of a blow-job with some hand action too, and laughed almost
hysterically again before it choked off in another sob. "I... when I was eating Hermione and
you were in me, and he was in Hermione, I... he was right there. Just those big, fat, heavy
balls of his, sweaty and smelling of sex, and they were swinging in my face and I was so
randy already, and you felt so good, and Hermione tasted amazing, and... and I just... I licked
them. I... I shouldn't have, I know.

"And then he said something, and I... I just did it again. Looking up his stupid, sexy body at
his stupid, cute face looking down with such surprise and... I don't know, disgust maybe, or
something else, and I just... I licked them again, and sucked his balls into my mouth like
Hermione does sometimes, and... then, later, after he fucking gushed Hermione's beautiful
cunny full of his jizz, I let some fall in my mouth! And I- I loved it, Harry! I told him it was
the Ritual, but I know it wasn't! I wanted to wank him! My own brother! I wanted his seed on
me! I wanted it in me, like you do! I'm disgusting!"

Maybe it wasn't emotionally healthy.

Harry was hardly a psychiatrist, or whatever.

Maybe he could've done a better job of talking things out, of listening, and making Ginny
understand his take.

But he was always randy, and her talk, the memories of that night, her body right there, clean
and ready...

Harry pushed her down onto not the bed, but the floor, and shoved his penis into her. "Feel
it?" he growled, "Feel how that makes me hard, Gin? Maybe it is sick. But if it is, I'm sick,
too. I told him to do it, remember? I'm not going to blame you- I wanted you to suck him off!
I wanted his long dick in your throat! I want him in your tight little pussy, just like me!"

Ginny whimpered, her fluids working quickly to catch up to his sudden entrance, willing as
always to accept him, but her eyes screwed shut, "I... he's my brother. It's not- not right... I
shouldn't want him, too!"

He moved, pulling most of the way out and back in, "Fuck him, Ginny. Fuck your brother as
soon as he's willing, but make sure I'm there to watch."

"N- No, I- I can't," she whined, "I can't.... I know I said anyone, but..."

She climaxed around him, gasping with wide eyes as her vaginal walls fluttered, yanking
Harry that much closer to his own.

"You want to, I know you do- you just said it," he growled, moving faster and harder, seeing
her shift on the shag carpet with each thrust, "and I want you to, Pet!"

"N- no," she whimpered again, then shrieked out one word as another orgasm hit, "F- fine!"

He didn't let up with her acquiescence, though. Instead, he moved faster still, "You're my
Pet," he reminded her, "and you swore you'd shag whomever I wanted. So don't forget, Pet...
as soon as Ron's willing."

"Oh, Merlin, yes, yes, R- Harry!"

A few minutes later, he was dabbing, carefully and gently, some burn-relief potion on Ginny's
back from where the rug had dug into her, and Ginny had gone quiet again. Once he was
finished, he again helped her dress, and murmured his dozenth apology, "Sorry about the rug
burn, Gin..."

She shook her head, though, shaking out her long hair over the newly-donned shirt, "No, I... I
deserved it. I'm a naughty Pet."
"You are naughty," Harry murmured, pulling her against him carefully so as not to aggravate
the wounds as he held her against his chest, "but you don't deserve pain like that. I'm a
naughty Master, too. I want you to suck your brother's dick while Hermione is on mine, and
hear him roar your name as he bursts down your throat. I've wanted it for weeks. Months. So
yes, shag him if you want, Ginny. I won't make you- but if you want to, please let me watch
you with him."

Again, she was quiet for a long time, trembling in his arms and maybe crying just a little, but
eventually, Ginny whispered, "Okay."

As usual, Harry didn't sleep for long, only an hour or so, and the 'window', like those in the
Ministry that would let light into his bedroom during the day was dark with no stars visible,
indicating that it was not only still night but overcast when he opened his eyes. He stretched
languidly in the bed, arms casually moving around the two bodies, one on either side of him,
and pulling both closer.

Lyra curled against him, pressing a quick nibble to his collarbone, and Ginny... Ginny wasn't
there. Well, she was, but half-visible, almost translucent. Like a ghost, except in the darkness
he could still see shades of color.

He remembered the Succubus joining them shortly after Ginny had stopped crying, and done
her best to explain that she approved of the girl's fascination with her brother, too, as long as
it didn't interfere with her desire for Harry or herself, which resulted in a short make-out
session between the two young women, but no sex for any of them. Instead, Lyra had left
briefly to go 'gather' from the other boys and girls in the castle that had gotten any release that
night, stale though much of it probably was, and a quiet afternoon in his suite with just the
three of them, before a three-way that had left them all sweaty and giggling before the two
humans fell asleep, talking idly of what powers Ginny might have gotten.

The strange thing was, even though Harry couldn't see Ginny well, he could still smell and
hear her, feel her warmth in his arms.

"Gin, I think I've figured out what power you got."

"Mm? Sleepin', 'Arry..."

"Wake up, love," he murmured, "it's worth it. I've got a hard-on if you want."

"Mm? Oh... well..."

She shifted, and Lyra did too, looking over him with amusement as the girl sat up then leaned
down, taking him in her mouth a few times, then shifting so that she could slide him into her
instead.

It was a little weird to see his cock begin to glisten, shift in mid-air, visibly moving inside
Ginny through her own self as the girl started to gyrate her hips, her Rune-given lustfulness
causing her to become fully aroused very quickly.
"You're very clumsy this morning," Ginny murmured as he fumbled for her chest and hips,
"sleepy still?"

"Wide awake," he grinned, sending a glance Lyra's way, "it's just hard to aim when I can't see
you well."

"What're you... what the hell? Harry- I'm invisible!"

He and Lyra both laughed, but even with that distraction the witch's body moved on its own,
circling her hips on him then sliding back and forth before moving into an up-and-down
motion, before starting over again. "You aren't invisible to us, just see-through," Harry told
her, "I... not sure why, really."

"You'll be invisible to almost everyone else," Lyra said softly, running a hand over Harry's
chest, then up Ginny's pale leg, "Master and I can see you because you got your powers
through us. I'd say you are at 'rank two' as far as Invisibility goes, the same as I was when I
started really working toward accepting a Contract. I was at rank three, as we define it, when
Master summoned me. Now, I'm at five, and can more or less totally control how much of
myself is visible, and how much, and to whom. I rather favor the ability myself, so I worked
hard on it."

"I can become invisible," Ginny whispered, one hand moving to Harry's chest, the other
seeking out Lyra's hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze, "wicked. Absolutely wicked."

"Now you just need to learn to control it," Lyra said, equally quietly, "I'll help you with that
today, but I'm not going to be up for much more than lying here while Master feeds me."

"Feeds...? Oh, his cum? You can have this one," Ginny volunteered, "once he's close."

"Okay, thank you, Ginny."

"Anytime... Mistress."

"Mistress," Lyra cooed, raising the hand, and Ginny's with it, to one of her breasts instead, "I
like the sound of that. But only for you, Pet."

Ginny, still translucent, grinned, leaned down, and kissed Lyra, then Harry, speeding up her
motions as she did so. "I love you, Harry. Love you too, Lyra. And Merlin, I love having sex.
I don't care how... it just feels- feels so- so good!"

She came around him, and a few seconds later, fell to the side to give Harry, who had started
to twitch, the chance to roll over Lyra and slide inside her just before ejaculating with a quiet
groan.

Ron and Hermione, to his surprise, greeted Harry the moment he entered the Gryffindor
Common Room after a late brunch. He had assumed they would either be in the Room of
Requirement, or hidden away in the room they often shared in his suite shagging, but instead
they were working on homework. Or at least, Ron seemed to be doing Herbology, while
Hermione was distracted from her own Charms work by helping tutor their less studious
friend.

Many other students filled the room due to the stormy weather outside, which caused a heavy,
freezing rain to sheet down the thick windows of the castle. There were a few conspicuous
absences, though, and one in particular gave Harry an idea. He'd made a sort of promise,
anyway, and he meant to keep it... and maybe add one more to their little group in the
process.

... Not that it was so little, anymore.

While making his way over, Harry exchanged greetings with many of his lesser-known
acquaintances, amused still to see just how many of the students were passing their time with
mouths locked together, and more than a few hands inside clothing in rather dangerous, even
scandalous, angles... and now, heedless of the younger years, some of whom were even
involved in that sort of behavior.

He leaned his way over, casually draping a hand across Hermione's chest to give a little
squeeze through her jumper, glad that no one else would care anymore at such casual display
of sexuality, and whispered, "You got any Polyjuice? You said you did, right?"

Hermione moaned, leaning into his hand a little, "Damn it, Harry... trying to study. Yes, I do.
I'll go get a vial- one swallow enough?"

"Mm, yes, I think so. I doubt I could take more anyway."

Ron grinned up at him and set down his quill, "What, you fancy being someone else for a
bit?"

"Yeah, something like that," Harry smiled, glancing around. If he wasn't mistaken, there were
two seventh-years actively masturbating each other beneath a blanket. Sure, they were both
blokes so he was entirely uninterested in watching, but it was interesting to note, at least.
Inhibitions did seem to have a way of vanishing when Lilith was around, in whatever form.

"Well... have fun. Speaking of fun, I had an idea. You mind if I borrow your Cloak? Thought
I might try and watch... well, someone, in secret."

"Voyeurism? I'm all for it," Harry grinned, "go ahead. It's downstairs, though, my trunk's
there most nights."

"Brilliant. So... how's Ginny? Any powers?"

Harry grinned, sitting down sideways in Hermione's vacated chair and leaned in, "Yeah, she
manifested it sometime last night. One of Lilith's Tier One powers, a Rank Two, whatever
that means really. She can turn- well, you know what, I'll let you figure it out."

"Aww... no hints?"

"We can do the same thing, but she can do it better. That's your only hint."
"Hm... into a Veela? No... A fish? Nah..."

Ron kept shooting ideas, and shooting them down just as quickly, for the two minutes it took
for Hermione to return, slightly red-faced, and hold out a hand with a small, gray, muddy
liquid inside. "Here... one hour. Remember to swallow it all, though. What are you- you know
what, never mind. Just promise you won't turn into me."

"I had someone else in mind," he returned, "and cheers. See you two in a bit."

It took him almost twenty more minutes to finish the rest of his preparations, which had
included returning to the quarters they'd been given for the year himself, picking up his cold-
weather cloak and slipping it on, then grabbing his Firebolt and casting the Disillusionment
Charm over both it and himself, then gliding over the heads of several students as he made
his way out one of the doors into a courtyard, and up, up...

To the windows outside, if he counted right, Hermione's dorm room.

There was no one inside, or at least it was dark, and a quick Alohamora opened the window,
allowing him to fly inside the narrow space and shut it quietly.

It took several drying charms to clean up the evidence from his skin, hair, clothing, and
broom before he finished with the floor and window sill, then looked around a bit more
carefully, incanting Lumos to aid him, though it didn't help much against the window.

Like his own dorm, not that Harry was using it much this year, Hermione's had five beds. His
best friend and girlfriend's was easily identifiable as the first on the right from the door,
because of the expensive trunk (the most costly of the lot, as far as he could tell with a
glance), and the stacks of books atop it, and the smaller, neat stack next to the bed below the
bedside table, and the one atop it.

Moving anticlockwise from Hermione's, Harry took a quick gander into each girl's space. The
next bed, he couldn't place easily, and the room's study desk was beyond that, with the
window between it and the next bed. A sniff was all it took to identify the bed as Lavender's,
for the bedsheets, while neatly made, were covered with her perfume, and there were two
trunks and a magical wardrobe next to the head of the bed, which was hanging open to reveal
some of the casual shirts and skirts he'd seen her in over the last year. The next bed, which
smelled of patchouli and jasmine, had a wardrobe and trunk as well. "Parvati's," Harry
decided. The last bed was just as hard to identify, but there was a Monster Book of Monsters,
well-read and strangely docile, snoring lightly on the bedspread. Oh, I do wish Crabbe and
Goyle weren't in this class...

Harry blinked, smiling as he remembered the very girl-next-door vibes of Luca Caruso, who
he'd really only met in their third year. "Which means the other bed must belong to Fay. Oh,
yeah, there's her Beater's Bat, signatures and all."

He knew well the short, Irish girl would never actually play with the thing, which seemed to
be her most prized possession, but she spent an inordinate amount of money, she would brag,
having it signed every year. She was, according to her, caught up with every single Beater
that had played professionally (starting roster or reserve) in the last five years, and added the
newest every time a new Beater entered the League.

A thunder of footsteps from above made Harry freeze, but they passed by the door, and he
slowly exhaled. Somehow, simply flying through the windows bypassed the spells that
protected against boys entering the girl's dorms, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be in severe
trouble for being caught here. "Speaking of," he muttered to himself, "I should probably get
moving..."

He spun around the room slowly, trying to decide who... then shrugged, "I guess it doesn't
really matter. All girls are sexy, for the most part, and even Luca's not bad to look at." Still,
he headed toward Lavender's bed first, and bent low to examine the pillow.

There.

He picked up the long, blonde hair carefully and snipped off a bit with his fingernails,
stuffing the rest in his pocket for later if needed, and dropped the small piece into the tiny
vial.

At once, it hissed and smoked, turning a brilliant, verdant green. Harry smiled again, returned
the vial to his pocket, and-

The door handle rattled.

He froze, then quickly raised the bottle to his lips, and swallowed as someone outside spoke
to someone else quietly.

The transformation was just barely complete, painful though it was, when the door opened
and Fay Dunbar stepped into the room, her soft brown hair a bit wet. "Oh, hi, Lavender. You
don't usually wear bloke's clothing often... get your others wet?"

"Mm, uh, y- yeah," Harry said, doing his best imitation of the girl's voice. "I... how're you?"

"M'alright," Fay said with a shrug, "I'm just getting my Gobstones."

He was quiet while the girl nonchalantly crossed the room to her trunk- he'd figured them out
correctly, it seemed- and pulled out a small box. "You want to play?"

"Er- n- no, thank you," Harry stammered, feeling Lavender's- his- face flush.

"Okay, maybe next time. Oh, and hey... I know you don't like to take fashion advice from me,
but wearing a boy's clothes is only sexy if they fit you."

Then she was gone, and Harry exhaled in relief. He didn't waste a moment opening the
window again and mounting his broom, though he only just remembered to re-cast the
Disillusionment after he'd moved to the window itself, the tip of his broomstick already out in
the rain again.

Now he just needed to find somewhere private.

But the Room of Requirement was occupied by... well, someone, doing something he again
couldn't find a way in past, and a fourth-year girl was standing outside, terrified of him
walking back and forth. She'd even dropped a set of scales when she'd spotted him, which
clattered loudly. Classrooms are out- too much traffic and risk. I can't go back to the Dorms,
and someone could be using my rooms. I'm- I'm not ready to do this in front of others. Not
yet. Not even Lilith. Where can I go that no one else can...?

Oh. Oh. Perfect. Dingy... but perfect. Now, I just need a mirror...

Fortunately, there was a two-foot tall mirror attached to the vanity in his bedroom, which
Harry easily detached and shrunk down, fitting the one-inch square into his pockets before,
still all but invisible, he moved through the castle by broom, flying over the heads of most
people into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

He was blessed with luck again as the ghost was nowhere to be found, and his opening of the
Chamber of Secrets went undetected, allowing him to fly down on his Firebolt carefully. The
passage was a lot longer than he expected, and he estimated that about twenty minutes of his
hour were gone by the time he stepped into the actual Chamber, where, four years after he'd
killed it, all that remained of the Basilisk were bones and a few scraps of long-dessicated
meats.

The place still stank like tepid water and mildew, but it wasn't as foul as it had been before. In
fact, as the green torches lit again at his presence, Harry could almost admire the architecture
and grandeur of the hidden place. Still, he wasn't here for that. He had an experiment to try.

Without moving far into the chamber at all, Harry hissed, "Close," to the inner door in
Parseltongue, just as he had the first after moving into the pipes, then cast Engorgio not just
once, but twice, on the mirror before levitating it up to the wall and casting a heavy sticking
charm to fix it there. Then, knowing his time was about up, Harry hastened to sip again from
the Polyjuice so he wouldn’t have to undergo the uncomfortable and even painful
transformation twice more.

Only then did Harry allow himself to look.

He was, indeed, Lavender Brown. At least, he had her body, dressed in his own ill-fitting
clothes. He smiled, pushing down the small pang of guilt, and lifted the shirt from his torso,
then pushed his pants down over wide hips- he didn't have to do more than shimmy to get
them to drop to the floor. Just as easily, he bent to remove shoes and socks, casting Scourgify
several times at the floor in the area before he dared touch it with bare skin, and stood to
admire him- her- self.

Lavender was shorter than he was, about five inches if he guessed, and an inch shorter than
Hermione. Her hair, he already knew, was blonde and wavy, and her figure full. Of the sixth-
year Gryffindors, she and Hermione were the most blessed in the chest, and he didn't know,
before now, who was larger. Now, he had definitive proof it was Lavender, and not just by a
tad. She was at the upper cusp of D-cups, and was a bit thinner in the waist and legs, though
he knew full well by now that Hermione's extra size was muscle from traipsing about with
thirty pounds of books on her back all the time.
Between her legs there was a thin patch of well-trimmed hair in the shape of a heart that
capped a wide slit and an already-engorged clit. His nails, finger and toes, were both painted
as hers likely were at the moment the hair had been shed, and there were, as he spun slowly,
almost no blemishes on her body. A small one over her right bum cheek, and a smaller below
her left breast, and a tiny pear-shaped birthmark at the back of her left shoulder. Her nipples,
he quickly found, were already slightly hard from the chill air of the Chamber, about as big as
his thumbnails- well, his real ones, they were a bit larger than Lavender's- surrounded by pale
pink, actually a bit lighter than her tanned flesh. "Lavender's been sunbathing nude," he
realized, glancing down the mirror and at his borrowed body once more. There were no tan-
lines visible, none at all. "Naughty girl."

Observation done, Harry turned his attention to the primary purpose of this exercise- to
become comfortable with himself... as a girl.

Not that he identified as one, or anything like that, Harry reminded himself as he brought
both hands up to cup his own chest, sighing at the sensations, which were new and unfamiliar
to his mind, if not the borrowed body. It was just that he...

He wanted to try it, that's all. See what it was like, being a girl with another girl.

And, maybe, deep in the darkest parts of his mind, one day he'd let Lilith, his favorite Pet, do
a little something more while he was female. Maybe.

Probably not, but...

Maybe.

Slowly, carefully, Harry explored his borrowed body, gaining new insight into what spots on
a woman were more pleasurable than others, even unconsciously leaning into his hands with
a few of his own tender touches, before bringing one hand down, carefully, to touch, just ever
so lightly...

His body jumped, and he gasped.

"Holy shit, that's sensitive!"

Harry grinned, then started rubbing tiny circles in the flesh over his slit, feeling even the hood
sliding across his clit to be exquisitely pleasurable. While doing that, he slowly slid one
painted fingertip into his channel, and sighed, jerking his hips forward in search of more, and
more.

Within a minute, his knees had started to shake, and Harry climaxed, sending a small torrent
of liquid down between his curvaceous legs. Then he sank to his knees and started over,
again, and again, and again...

It was never enough.

He loved it. Loved being a man shagging a woman, yes, but also loved being a woman,
orgasming so very intensely, time after...
He gasped in sudden pain, arching forward, yanked his hand away...

There...

There was his familiar shaft.

He was himself again.

Harry grinned, panting, and scooped up some of the girl-drippings that still ran down his
hairy legs, and brought it to his mouth. Hm. So if Polyjuice can even copy a taste, she tastes
like strawberries. Or maybe I do...?

Harry was rock-solid, but he had no patience to seek out a companion. Instead, he imagined
himself as Lavender once more, and for the first time in ages, enjoyed a powerful, satisfying
wank that coated the mirror and the floor between them.

Those, after he dressed and took up the broom again, Harry left there. "After all," he
reasoned, "No one uses the mirror in my room, and I'm definitely going to be back."
 Lost and Found
Chapter Summary

Trigger Warnings: Bondage, Stockholm Syndrome, Dubious Consent, mentions of Non-

Consent, and VERY BAD DECISIONS made by decent people.
Oh, and some Gender-bending again (with straight up Polyjuice, Harry turns into a
different girl this time.)

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 40: Lost and Found

He found his friends all together in the common room of his own quarters twenty or so
minutes later. They weren't, it seemed, all that aware of the full situation, though.

Hermione was bent over the couch, hands on the back, while Ron stabbed into her cunt from
behind, both dressed aside from his zipper and her skirt flipped up, knickers pushed to her
knees. Both looked in his direction as he stepped inside, but only Hermione kept watching
him. Neither said anything beyond their heavy breathing, clearly lost in passion. But they
weren't the only ones present.

Lyra leaned against his open doorway, translucent to all but himself, he suspected, frigging
her cunt with one hand while filling it with her tail using the other, watching not his best
friends shagging, but the equally translucent person next to them, who was rubbing her own
pussy wildly, staring with avid eyes at where the two bodies slapped against one another.

"Pet... did Ginny master what she needed to?"

"Mm... yes, Master... she is still only visible to you and me, but is completely invisible to
everyone else. Did you have fun? I saw some of what you've done, naughty Master..."
"You know I did, Pet. I'll... be more willing to try it soon. Maybe next time. It was definitely
intense."

"Good... I can't wait to taste you."

He left it at that as he crossed to his room, passed Lilith without giving a sign she was there,
and deposited his broom and bag in his bedroom before coming back out. "Hermione? Got
room for me?"

"Always," she groaned.

Ron blushed, "I... d'you mind w- waiting? I mean... we haven't been alone in a while, and..."

"No, it's alright," Harry smiled casually, waving as he walked around them, "I can find Lyra."

"I'm already here, Master," she faded into existence fully, "it's fun watching in secret."

Hermione blushed. Ron looked at her proudly.

Harry smiled, "Sometimes. Come on, let's... wait. You're tired, aren't you?"

She shrugged, "I am, but I'm a little recovered. You'll still have to do most of the work, I'm
afraid."

"Mmm... okay. We can do that. I'm up for trying something new, how about you?"

"What's that?"

"Come into the dungeon, and you'll see."

Ron, who hadn't yet finished, was now on his knees behind Hermione, licking her beautiful
furry cunt, when Harry shut the door. He didn't lock it, assuming that after they'd had their
fun together (and Ginny with them), they might be joined.

He took up the nude 'student's' hand, guiding her to the center of the room, "Let's try some
ropes again, hmm?"

She grinned, "Always, Master."

It took him a while, even with her careful guidance, to find a rope pattern that worked well,
but eventually, Lyra was tied up with heavy knots around the base of both breasts, causing
them to darken and swell with caught blood like a finger with a rubber band on it, and a pair
of loops tying her ankles to her thighs, and then back to her wrists, the arms twisting behind
her so that she could grab her own legs, which arched the Succubus' back beautifully. Then
he took her knees and moved around her body to the front twice, crossing between her heavy,
swollen breasts and over the shoulder, back to the other knee, and pulled them wide open
before knotting it. From above, Harry could see since she was still on the floor, Lyra almost
resembled a T, or a flattish Y. From the side, she was shaped like an upside-down ice-cream
cone.
Using his wand, Harry then carefully added one thicker rope to hold her weight, looping it to
the eye-hook in the center of the ceiling, then down through another pulley so that he could
lift and lower her with one hand, and tied it off near the doorway on another hook installed
for that purpose.

Once she was at about shoulder height, Harry leaned in, showing the slowly-swinging girl the
device he held- a squat rubber tube with indentations for teeth, and leather straps on either
side. She smiled, "Oh, yes, Master..."

He placed the ring carefully in her mouth, giving Lyra plenty of time to adjust and find a
good placement for her lips, then tied it off beneath her long, black hair, which was currently
done up in a tight twist.

Then he added a blindfold... and moved to the shelves of toys one more time for a few last
things.

"A question, my Pet... I've felt something like it, but do you have a womb? Wiggle once for
yes, t- no, wiggle once for no, twice for yes."

He loved watching her lithe yet voluptuous body shake, after all. It did, twice.

"Do you give birth from it?"

Again, two shimmies, which left her swaying and twisting against the ropes.

"Do you feel good when I fuck into it?"

This time, there was a brief pause before, again, two shakes.

"Good. See, I have a couple of dildos here. Oh, you don't see, but... one of them, I'm going to
put in your beautiful little ass. The other's gonna go in your pussy, and I want to hammer it
into your womb with my own dick. Does that sound fun?"

There was an even longer pause, then two wiggles.

"Good. Okay... get ready, Pet..."

He slowly pushed the hot-pink phallus, one that was 'regular' in size as far as he could tell,
with a screw-on battery-cap, first into Lyra's wet tunnel, twisted it around a few times, then
pulled it back before setting the tip against the tighter, smaller hole.

When he pushed, she turned and spun, so Harry adjusted her position, then hooked both arms
around her thighs before trying again. It was hard, pushing it in like that, but Lyra moaned
against the mouth-ring as it entered her, and again when he stopped pushing in and flicked
the switch at the end.

There was no battery inside, but Hermione, he already knew, had worked magic on it- for this
had once been solely hers, purchased in secret by her mother to help with those long, lonely
nights before she'd started a relationship with Harry and Ron both.
The other rod was fairly miniscule in comparison, almost child-sized, just a couple of inches
long and maybe a half-inch wide, but it had an intense vibration enchantment which he
activated before slowly pushing it into her too, as far as his fingers could go. He thought it
might just be touching the end of her deep hole, but knew fully well that if it was going to do
damage, Lyra would just adjust her body to hold it.

There were benefits to being a Succubus, after all.

The door opened, and the still-translucent Ginny stepped in, shutting it quietly. "They're
taking a break.. Gods, I'm glad we've all got the Stamina Runes now, though. He's still hard...
I could... I could suck him, right now. But it looks like you two are having fun, too."

Ginny stayed translucent as she dropped her clothing to the floor, leaving a trail of shirt, skirt
and knickers, which each became visible as she did. Without more than a look and a smile in
his direction, Ginny pushed two fingers into Lyra's wide-open mouth, then pulled them out
and gave her a little slap. Then she bent and grabbed both nipples, twisting them roughly.
Lyra gasped, and Ginny smiled again, "Mistress likes pain, huh?"

"I think Mistress likes everything," Harry laughed, "even not being able to see what's going
to happen next."

"Fuck her," Ginny chuckled, "I want to see this."

"I will," Harry laughed a bit louder, "but not just yet. First I want her to hang there while you
tell me all about your brother's long dick and how much you want to feel it in you. Oh, and
play with our pet's tits while you do it."

Ginny shuddered, her eyes fluttering closed, and she took a deep, slow breath and let it out
over several seconds before she started. "I mean, we were kids of course, so we saw each
other naked then. But the first time I saw it hard... I was eleven, and I couldn't understand
how that two-inch little thing got so big. Back then, it seemed huge, but was probably about
six inches. He was twelve. He didn't know I was watching, 'cause I'd hidden under his bed,
you know. Snooping, but I got caught, and he came up to wank or something. So he sat there
at his desk and pulled one off, and I watched and watched. It made me feel... tingly, once I
figured out his expression wasn't one of pain, you know?

"And...well, there's more. I started touching myself, too, and... every once in a while, once a
summer, maybe twice, I'd catch him out again. He's not great at locking doors. I knew it was
wrong, but I didn't care. It was just watching, nothing more. Until the other day, anyway."

"You don't have to go further if you don't want to," Harry reminded her, "Talk of you
shagging who I tell you to is... Ginny, you're my Pet, but I won't force that. You know I won't.
I would be a terrible Master if I did. But I do want you to, and if you want to, then I don't see
why not."

Ginny sniffed, nodded, then continued playing with Lyra's nipples for a few seconds. "There's
more, though. I... wasn't always so obsessed with sex. But the Diary started really putting
things in my head... the dark thoughts, the images, the memories he gave me... it made me
think of that sort of thing far earlier and... well, more intensely than I think most people
would. He was older, sixteen when he made the Diary, you know? Our age now. But to an
eleven-year-old girl, it was just too much. I was him, raping one girl after another with the
Imperius curse, and without it. Torturing them sometimes if they resisted too much. And I
enjoyed it, as him. I never thought I'd be attracted to girls, but he showed me I was. At least
now that he's gone I know the attraction is mine."

"Grffuhh frr phaaat," Lyra tried to speak over the ring-gag, and Harry translated her thoughts
more clearly.

"She says she's grateful for that, and I am too."

Ginny nodded, clearly lost in her own head-space still. "Anyway, because I became so
interested so quickly, and at such a young age, when you came into my life as more than just
that handsome hero I met briefly on the platform... when you stayed at our house the next
summer. You know what I was like."

Harry nodded, "Shy."

"Randy. Every time... sure, there was an element of embarrassment, but when I saw you, I
imagined you doing that sort of thing to me, and it got me excited. Every single time. So I'd
run up to my room and rub one out. I wasn't hiding, not really. I came so much that summer."
The last sentence was said stifling a giggle, which came out fully as she finished.

"Then you started being my friend, too, and you went from the hero I wanted to shag rotten to
my best friend, and even more handsome, and I still wanted to shag you rotten, so... when
you came to me and asked, there was no way I'd say no. Can you imagine having someone
like Lyra, here, in front of you for five years and not being able to do anything about it? Then
she suddenly comes up and asks to shag you? Would you- could you- say no?"

"Not a chance," Harry admitted, then slowly started twisting the dildo in Lyra's anus around
in gentle circles as he remembered she was waiting for him still.

"Now, I get to watch you shag Hermione. I know you love her, and I'm not jealous, because I
know you love me, too. Hannah's a pretty girl to get you off, but she doesn't mean much more
than that to you, so I'm not jealous of that, either. Lyra's... well, a Succubus. As long as I get
to have her too, why should I be jealous? Anyway, watching you shag her is erotic in every
way. With the Runes it's even stronger, and I just feel like I never will have enough, but that's
okay. I like it anyway, because the anticipation is good, too."

"That it is," Harry agreed softly, "Come here, Pet. Run your fingers all over this body before
us... see it tremble?"

"Mmm... she's ready for your cock, Harry," Ginny agreed, trailing her fingertips down the
heavy curve of Lyra's spine.

"A dildo in her ass, one in her cunt... and my dick will be there soon, too. But first, I want
you to explore every inch of her with your tongue and hands while I do the same to you."

"Mm... that sounds fun!"

While Ginny was suckling on beautiful, abused teats, Harry brought out the quirt the
Succubus had once used on Hermione and lashed across Lyra's back, her stomach, her thighs,
both in the back and inside... and then moved down.

Ginny sighed in pleasure, and started rubbing between her own legs as she watched, close-up,
while Harry gave Lyra's right breast a deep squeeze that must have hurt, before releasing it
and slapping the quirt along the bottom of both breasts in quick succession. Lyra cried out,
back arching again. Then, Harry handed the lash to Ginny, who took it with a smile and a
look of pride at her Master's judgment, while he took hold of Lyra's head and shoved his
aching cock into her mouth.

It barely fit through the ring, and even the Succubus choked on him for a moment before she
adjusted, and coughed again when Ginny flicked the quirt across a nipple, then pinched it,
and lightly caressed the other. Then Harry started moving, humping the gorgeous, felt-lined
throat with gusto, and Ginny left the quirt behind to stand between Lilith's legs, and lifted one
hand, fingers together, to show Harry. He nodded, grinning.

Lyra screamed around his cock as Ginny pushed her whole hand into the sopping pussy,
using her grip on one ass cheek and Harry's pounding to give her leverage as she pushed in
further and further, until it seemed like her whole lower arm was buried. She blinked, smiled,
and Harry could imagine her hand twisting, seeking...

She must have found the small, vibrating dildo and pushed it against Lyra's skin, because the
Succubus screamed again with wide eyes behind the blindfold, and began thrashing in
ecstasy. He flushed, and willed...

The orgasm came as he wished, blasting through him with incredible force, and making his
dick swell. He could see it, half-buried, turning purple from being past the ring as one spurt
after the next, more than thirty this time, pulsed out of his aching, swirling loins and into his
prized Succubus' waiting innards.

She did, too, he knew, and not just because he had. This time, he had made his climax
coincide with hers, not the other way around, and Ginny slowly pulled her hand out, holding
the dripping vibrator, with a very self-satisfied smile, "Neat trick, Master."

He smiled, slowly pulling out of Lyra's mouth, then reached back to undo the strap and let her
mouth rest. As the ring clattered to the floor, he removed the blindfold, too, so that Lyra
could clean him as was customary... though she hadn't missed much.

Ginny, too, leaned in once more to begin licking at the girl's folds, which soon had her
shuddering with another climax, weaker but still quite enjoyable.

Nude, Harry left them there for a moment while he moved to the door of the common room
and stuck his head out. Hermione and Ron were still in one of the other bedrooms. Judging
by the sound, still caught up in each other.

He glanced over his shoulder, "Be back in a bit."

He had to get back up to the girl's dormitory. He was determined, now...

He wanted to feel Ginny's mouth on his cunt, to see if she was truly as spectacular as
Hermione was at giving head.

Since it was dinnertime, Harry didn't have a hard time getting into the tower now, and the
rain had temporarily let up so he didn't even need drying charms as he slipped in the window
once more. Inside Hermione's trunk, it wasn't hard to shift a few of the well-organized
belongings aside and find the heavy canteen. A quick sniff told him it was his prize, so Harry
quickly conjured a small glass phial that would hold at least ten times his last dose, and
poured enough viscous Potion into it to fill the lot, before stoppering both and returning the
larger supply to where he'd found it.

A few minutes later, after conjuring a 'Do not Disturb' sign on the door of the dungeon, Harry
stepped in again. Inside, Ginny had Lyra spread-eagled on the bed, legs and arms loose but
still through loops of silk, while the two continued to eat each other out with vigorous energy.
"There's a sight I could see for hours," Harry murmured.

Neither girl stopped or looked his way.

But Harry wasn't offended. Instead, he was glad of the opportunity to move into the room,
seek out one of Ginny's long hairs under the guise of running a hand up her back, and break
off a tiny piece.

Her own potion was a beautiful Heliotrope purple, and didn't taste utterly foul to Harry,
though it wasn't pleasant either- almost like her squirt gone slightly rancid.

The transformation took about twenty seconds, during which he once more stripped off his
clothing, before running a hand over his new, small breasts, and between his legs. She was,
he decided, even more sensitive in both locations that Lavender. Good... this will feel even
better.

"Ginny... stop playing with your toys and get to work on me."

The red-head looked up, and blinked. "Er..."

"It's me, Harry," he laughed, waving a hand to ward off her confusion, "Hermione had some
Polyjuice. I... I wanted to try it."

The girl blinked, then shuddered in pleasure for several seconds, until she was gasping and
trembling with aftershocks as Lyra finished her off. "I... I suppose that's... fine. I just wasn't
expecting... well, this. You... you want me to lick... you, then?"

He nodded, but didn't climb onto the bed. Instead, he moved back to the newly re-conjured
couch (the last one had made it about two and a half weeks, this should last for two more),
and sat, spreading his legs.

His mirror image smiled, clearly intrigued by the idea, and gave Lyra's pussy a few pats,
"Come watch this."
Lyra was laying sideways on the edge of the bed when Ginny sank between his feet, one knee
up and rubbing on herself, smiling madly.

"It's kind of weird," Ginny whispered, "seeing, well... me. But it's kind of hot, too. I know
what I like... where I like to be touched..."

And she did.

Ginny seemed to know what Harry really wanted, and took her time exploring her own body,
working several specific spots. Just below her earlobes, with little nips and nibbles. Her
collarbone, the hollow of her hips, the inside of each thigh and calf...

Then she started kissing up the inside of his slender, pale legs, and Harry's breath started to
hitch in his throat as she got closer, closer...

And went around, kissing still up the front of the legs where they met his torso, then up his
chest, until she was pressed against him, only a few inches lower. He could feel her heat
against him, and knew from the heat in himself that she was aroused, for he certainly was.
"I've never been able to lick my tits like Hermione can," she whispered, "and I want you to
try it on me... after I do you."

He gasped as her lips closed on his buds, one hand instinctively pulling her closer as his eyes
widened, sightlessly staring at the ceiling. Oh Gods!

But Ginny didn't torture him with pleasure for long before she changed sides, then slid up
him again to offer her own tits, then gracefully drag them down his body, breasts jiggling and
pressing firmly into each other for a moment before the pressure was too much and they
sprang back into shape, until she was on her knees again.

"Now... a fresh taste of myself..."

Harry lurched again, unable to help it as a soft, inviting tongue caressed his petals, pushing
them open and closed of its own volition, and every nodule of her tongue became perfectly
clear as she glanced over his clit, then pushed the hood back with two fingers and made her
tip blur along the most sensitive flesh...

He climaxed at once, pushing Ginny back with the force his body convulsed with, but she
was back on him a moment later through another peak, and a third, before she relented.
Relented just enough to move lower, lave his taint, which was extremely sensitive now after
three crushing orgasms, and back up to his hole, where she pushed in a long, flexible tongue
and began to move it around, deeper than he'd have suspected was possible for all but the
Succubus. Then she started flicking it directly against what Harry knew, the moment she
touched it, was his g-spot.

He came again. And again. Squirting, now, writhing, helpless, lost and found both, his entire
body filled with pleasure and more pleasure, shaking, dancing, fiery freezing cold white c-c-
cum-miiiing!
Harry moaned through clenched teeth. He couldn't stop shaking, his narrow pelvis trembling,
arching up into Ginny's mouth uncontrollably, even though a fresh gout of liquid rushed out
of him, splashing against his lover's jaw and trickling, tickling down the scalding skin
between his legs.

All of those exterior signs paled in comparison to what was happening inside his copy of
Ginny's body. In his earlier explorations of the female form as Lavender, Harry had
experienced the flaming heat of passion brought out by his own fingers. That ascendant rush
toward Heaven was equal to some of the most intense climaxes he had experienced as a man.

This one, brought about by an exceedingly talented cunnilinguist, one he trusted, that he
loved, shattered the limits of what Harry knew pleasure to be, and turned the bonfire of his
passion into a white-hot inferno that scorched the landscape of his psyche, leaving cinders in
its wake.

When Harry came to, he bolted upright in his large bed of the private quarters. His bedroom
door, as he glanced around, was ajar and all was quiet. Even that motion, though, told him
that at least twenty minutes had passed, for the falling blankets had put enough pressure on
his lap to make a throbbing erection known.

Harry threw the blankets off to stride, nude and slowly stroking himself, out to the common
room. There a couple of covered dishes on the long coffee table. A quick check of the other
rooms revealed that he was alone in the suite. He sighed, then sat down to read the note left
with the dishes.

Master,

Ginny was very proud that you chose her to be your first experience as a girl. I'll forgive her
gloating, because it was very sweet- she cares about you a great deal. And now she's trying to
slap me for being sappy. She especially was happy that you got to enjoy that experience so
much!

As I write this, the time is eight thirty, so I had an elf bring you breakfast. The elf said it
should stay warm until you've taken off the lid. We're all making your excuses- you've come
down with a cold- so you can take the day off. The younger years' Defense Teacher stopped
by earlier, asking for a word. They'll be back later, I think.

Love, Lyra

He set the note down, smiling, cheered by the news even if it meant he wouldn't be getting
relief for a while aside from his useless hand. Inside the first lid, he found sausages and eggs.
Harry took up a bite of both, feeling sudden hunger wash over him at the smell. Had it truly
been since lunch the previous day, or... no, it was brunch on Saturday since he'd eaten last.
No wonder he was ravenous!

He was filled, dressed, and about to grab his Invisibility Cloak to try for some mid-school-
day fun when there was a knock on the door.
Harry already had the door open when he realized he wasn't dressed.

The person on the other side was both one of the best... and the very, very worst to see him in
such a state, especially with is half-erect penis sticking out.

Sirius Black.

"Er... S- Sirius?"

His godfather's smokey gray eyes widened, skipping down his body and then back up, and
beneath the well-groomed black beard, he blushed. "Er... you might want to get dressed,
kiddo. I'll wait."

Harry immediately shut the door, feeling strange numb tingling wash over him. He knew the
feeling for what it was. Embarrassment used to be something common. Less so now that
Lilith was around, but this...

He shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it now short of obliviation, and if he
tried... No... he would just have to trust Sirius not to make a big deal out of it, he decided
while getting dressed. "I'm so fucked..."

Of course, when he was dressed and opened the door, the older man was leaning against the
far wall, looking quite serene. "All dressed?"

He took another look down Harry's body, seeming pleased, "Mind if I come in?"

"S- Sure," Harry nodded, pink-faced, "I'm just... surprised. What're you doing here?"

Sirius gave him a hurt look, one that even Harry could tell was entirely false, "I can't come
visit my Godson at school? Ouch, Harry... Ouch. Right in the feels."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I do, and maybe I don't," Sirius laughed, "I just figured, since I've been in the castle
for a few weeks now, you might've come to visit me, that's all. Then I heard you were a bit
under the weather, so I'm taking a free period to-"

"Wait... wait, wait. Three weeks? What- how come I haven't heard?"

Sirius blinked, "It was announced at breakfast, and the opening feast, according to
Dumbledore. I'm the DADA Professor for the first five years this year. How can you not have
heard?"

Harry blinked, too, "I... um... well, m- maybe I've been a bit cut-off from the rumor mill,
but... seriously? You do know the position's cursed, right?"

"Sure," Sirius laughed, plopping down onto the couch and spreading his arms over the back
as he looked around, "but I don't care. Like Remus, I'm not planning on being here more than
a year anyway, so the curse shouldn't hit me too hard. And what's the worst that could
happen- I get sent to Azkaban for something I did do? Dumbledore and I both felt it was
better that I was close this year, just in case. And you know I'm more than qualified. The only
one in our year who got a better DADA score than me on our NEWTS was Snapey. Even
Mooney and Prongs got lower scores than me."

"I- I didn't know that," Harry said softly, dropping into one of the nearby armchairs. "I... well,
I'm not feeling sick- don't go telling the others. I was just, um... up late, and slept in."

"Shagging?"

Harry blushed, nodding.

Sirius laughed again, loud and dog-like, "Lucky... it's been a few weeks since I've been able
to, Marle- the girl I met in Kent, if you recall- couldn't come up on a regular basis because of
her work."

"Just don't go shagging students," Harry said with a grin.

Sirius gave him a rather serious look in return, "No... Dumbledore made it quite clear that
wasn't allowed, but I'm not into younger girls anyway. At least, not your age. Might've been
sending a few looks toward Septima- Professor Vector- and Aurora Sinistra, but no. The only
other lady in the school close to my age is Charity Burbage, and she's still a bit old for me."

Harry frowned. "You... you're still with Marle, and looking? Isn't that... cheating?"

Sirius grinned. "Nope. Open relationship, she said. I was actually her second person she's
dating, though she broke it off with the first bloke when she found out what a stud I am. Girls
these days, Harry, I tell you... they'll shag on a knut. So to speak."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Wouldn't know. Never had to pay for it myself."

"Ouch... ouch, Harry. And here I was, not mocking you for showing up starkers..."

The two talked for more than an hour, before Sirius, laughing uproariously at Harry's expense
once again, made his way back to the Defense Classroom for the younger students that had
been, apparently, set aside for his use while Dumbledore kept the larger one Harry himself
was accustomed to.

With more than half the day free to look forward to before his friends had any significant
amount of time to play, Harry took up his father's old map and Invisibility Cloak, wrapped
the latter around himself, and stepped out of his room. A few minutes later, he was out on the
grounds, enjoying the weather, quite unmolested by teacher or student. Eventually, though, he
grew bored with his solitary walk, and headed back to the school.

He needed pussy.

But most students were still in class, the teachers occupied. He'd skipped lunch, not feeling
hungry from his late breakfast, which meant there were precious few females available. I
wonder if Romilda's in the Hospital wing still...?
Sneaking into the familiar, long infirmary revealed it to be empty, however, so Harry left
once more. Got to be someone...

Then inspiration hit him.

A memory, too, of Dean shagging some sort of false-Ginny, a golem almost, in the Room of
Requirement the night he'd taken Hermione's virginity.

"Wonder if I can recreate...?"

Five minutes later, still invisible, he stepped through the familiar doors of the Room of
Requirement.

What he saw shocked him.

It wasn't an astronomy tower, or a bedroom, or boudoir, or anything of the sort where one
might find a 'usual' place to shag.

"What the... this isn't 'a place to get off'," Harry muttered, glancing around the towering
stacks of... well, what looked like everything. Colossal, leaning towers of books, leaning rows
of old brooms by the hundreds. Cracked cauldrons, a few old paintings, some ripped and
some so ancient and uncared for they seemed inactive were just the start.

Wands, too, at least six he could see from the door, stools, chairs, a few swords and a bloody
axe that looked oddly familiar. A cabinet, a table...

And a girl.

A girl tied to a table at the ankles and wrists, so her legs were spread wide along one end, and
her arms outstretched in a sort of I-shape, with silky blonde hair cut short, a series of bruises
around her hips, thighs, and arms, and even more on her breasts. She was nude, ripped
clothing scattered around the table, and dried semen covered her stomach and dripped from
the girl's pussy onto a puddle on the floor.

The only thing she wore was a blindfold.

Harry recognized her at once: this was Mandy Brocklehurst, the Ravenclaw girl in their year
who had been missing since the same night he and Ron had broken Romilda Vane's mind.

He stepped closer, around an arming bench standing up on one side and a wardrobe, for a
clearer view, unable to help himself from watching how her breasts moved as she breathed.
Still alive, then...

The girl looked thinner than he remembered, but if she'd been captive for more than two
weeks, it made sense. There were remnants of meals around, too, but...

Clearly, most of the time when her captor or captors were around, Mandy was being raped,
not fed.

The thought both aroused Harry, and made his blood boil.
Without thought, his wand waved, and the four cords that bound the girl vanished.

She didn't stir.

He stepped closer, just enough to touch a knee gently. "Mandy...?"

After a few seconds of the girl not screeching in fear or panicking, or anything of the sort, he
tried again.

"Just get it over with," her tired, hoarse voice said, "I'm tired of fighting, and I'm not falling
for your tricks."

"I'm not here to rape you," Harry said softly, "I... I just stumbled across you. I'm trying to
rescue you."

Mandy gave a sort of strangled half-laugh, choking on the sound, "Right, I fell for that one
once. Just put it in me and get it over with. Maybe this time I'll actually enjoy it... at least one
of you has a decent dick."

Harry blinked. A clue, then, to the perpetrators... there were more than one.

"Fine," he shook his head slowly, "I'll... I'll make you feel good if you want, just so you
believe it's not me that's done this to you."

"I'd say take my blindfold off," the girl muttered, "but they cursed my eyes- can't see
anyway."

He froze. That would have been an obvious solution... was seeing her there, nude, after
having gone without sex for a whopping six hours or so affected his thinking that much...?

"I..."

"I said get it over with. Just rut away, like always."

Harry swallowed, "Fine... since it's clear you don't believe me, I'll prove it. Do any of your
captors have a dick this big?"

He pulled out his member, and slapped the motionless girl across the stomach with it from
the side.

She winced, then tentatively, wincing, picked up her right hand to rest it over his log. "N-
no..."

Then, to his surprise, she started stroking him, tugging him closer to her mouth, running him
along her soft, bruised chest... No. No, bad idea, he told himself.

But he couldn't stop, especially then the girl opened her mouth and put his tip in, just the
head. She swirled her tongue, flicked it across his urethra. "I... Mandy, st- stop. I'm not trying
to-"
Then she started stroking him, and Harry gave up fighting. "Fine," he growled, "you want to
make me get off? Fine."

He yanked his cock free of her mouth, then slapped it across her cheeks. She yelped, but
didn't protest, aside from reaching out for him and trying to pull his member closer again. But
Harry didn't care for her whims anymore. If she wanted to be a captive that badly...

He would give her what she wanted.

For a brief moment, as he crossed to the nether regions of the girl's body, he wondered how
she could stand to have her legs spread so wide for so long, but her folds were dripping
already, engorging with blood. He pushed a finger in, just to be sure, and found her wet and
warm. "You want me to rape you, Mandy?"

"N- No," she murmured, "I hate it."

A part of Harry wondered if that was true.

But he was also done caring for what she wanted. He wanted to get off, and she was wet and
warm. He lined up, and pushed in, driving to the hilt in mad desperation.

Past fold and curve, past cervix even, and straight to the very back of the girl's womb in one
swift motion.

Mandy screamed, bucked on him, and finally seemed to realize that her hands were truly free
when they flew to cover the massive bulge his cock made in her stomach as her back arched,
and legs finally flew together, clutching feebly at his waist as if she could barely control
them.

The dark part of Harry that had taken over, the same part that had relished in dominating
Pansy that first time, in breaking Romilda Vane's mind with rapture, cheered him on as Harry
took hold of both modest breasts, twisted his hands upright almost like they were the
controllers to a computer game, and held her in place that way as he started bucking
furiously.

Mandy screamed again, gasping as he hit the back of her womb again and again. On the
removal, she whimpered and writhed, seeming to seek him out, trying to pull him back in.

Harry didn't care.

He leaned in to suckle a nipple, not even caring that it was probably covered in some guy's
cum, then bit into it just as it puckered, enjoying how it bounced in his mouth as he kept
rutting. Somehow, despite being used as a target of rape repeatedly over the last two weeks,
she was still tight to him, not just shallow in the channel, and Harry loved it. Loved feeling
her begin to fight against him, the juicy pussy both welcoming him in, and fighting to keep
him out.

He yanked all the way out, reached down with his magically-improved strength, and flipped
the girl over, then shoved back in, slamming her into the table from behind. Then he grabbed
both arms and heaved backward, arching her back toward him as he continued to pump,
pushing his hips further and further, until her toes were off the ground, suspended by his grip
and his massive, surging cock.

She came, shuddering and gasping, crying out after about a minute of that position, and the
rush of fluids and heat caused Harry's orgasm to trigger too. He blasted into her, not caring if
she was on the potion or not- clearly, her captors hadn't.

He let the girl down slowly after, expecting a colossal rush of guilt as she collapsed to the
stone floor of the room, panting and heaving on all fours, cunt dripping copious amounts of
his seed onto the floor.

The guilt didn't come. Just satisfaction.

"I came," she whispered, "I... I came from being raped. I... what's... wrong with me...?"

"Maybe you like it," he answered quietly, astounded that he didn't feel any guilt, and already
looking toward another round.

But now that he'd found her... "Do you want to go back? I can take you to the Hospital Wing.
Or... or you can stay here. Do you know who your captors were?"

The blindfolded blonde shook her head, "No... I have some suspicions. There are three. One
has a small dick, it's hard for him to get it up. One is medium, and one is pretty big. Nothing
like- like yours. Gods, I want it in me again... All of them are cruel, but the medium one is
the only one with any brains."

Harry nodded. More clues.

"If... if you can get their names, I'll see them brought down for what they did to you. But I'm
not sure how you could get them if you don't remember."

Mandy shook her head, "I'll stay... it's... not so bad. Once a day or so they come up here and-
use me. Every once in a while I get to enjoy it a bit. Maybe- maybe they'll slip up."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, "If you're sure. How- how will I find you again? I don't know
what this room is called."

He knew the Room of Requirement, of course, but he'd only seen this gigantic mess once
before. This configuration...

"The leader calls it the Hidden Room," she whispered, then forced herself up to her knees.
"Can I have your cock again, sir?"

Harry grinned, leaned down, "Back on your hands and knees, girl."

The second time, he felt even less guilt, despite worrying about growing Stockholm
Syndrome in the Ravenclaw. Still felt amazing, though.
By the fourth, he was even willing to repair the ropes the girl had been tied with and put her
back to the table... and only then did he dare try his new Eye of Dominance power to
hopefully keep her from ratting him out to whoever came next... or anyone else after he
'rescued' her.

It seemed to work, but of course there was no accurate way to test it. He would just have to
wait and see.
 Damp Plumbing

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/EDHf6ZG. THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Trigger Warnings for this chapter: Futa, and Futa on Guy (Harry with Lilith). It's the only
time it happens in the fic that I can recall, and if you want to skip it not too much happens
plot-wise.

Chap. 41: Damp Plumbing

Life continued at Hogwarts. People still discussed the missing Ravenclaw girl, of course, and
the mysterious circumstances of Romilda Vane's disappearance, discovery and return, and
now how long she would be with her family, 'recovering'. The weekend was spent shagging
as usual after homework was caught up, and Lilith seemed more up to the task than she had
been for most of the week, entertaining not just Harry, but also Ginny, Ron, Hermione
(though she only asked once), Neville, and for the two hours the worn-out girl could handle it
on Sunday, Hannah.

Another week, too, came and went, and every few days Harry would make a trip during one
period alone or another up to see if there was any news from Mandy Brocklehurst, but all she
could tell him between a round or two of rather violent sex that was making Harry start to
enjoy the style even more was that the boys, mostly the 'average one', were engaged in
something else in the room, too. Repairing something that had proven difficult.

They had kidnapped her, she said, to relieve their frustrations.

Ironic, because she felt she could have helped them if she wanted to... or if they'd asked.

But she couldn't say what the object was due to some powerful enchantment they'd put on
her, nor look at it with her eyes when freed, or anything of the sort that might give him
another clue. And there were just so many things in the room even within Mandy's earshot
that it would be impossible just to guess.

Harry hadn't only been shagging or checking on Mandy, though.

He'd also taken up a new project: cleaning the Chamber of Secrets.

It started simply: one evening when the others had been occupied with pleasure, and a bit of
extra homework Dumbledore had assigned him in preparation for assisting him with the next
lesson in Defense on the difference between dueling and combat had kept him working a bit
later.

What we really need is a place for us to meet without being interrupted. These rooms are
good for diversions, sleeping, and all, but it's not good for training, and we need to do more
than just fuck all the time. Some place large like the Room of Requirement, but more private,
one not in use all the time. The Chamber would be perfect if it was clean, but it'd be a lot of
work. Then again, Dumbledore is always telling me to rely on my friends, and Lilith says I
need to build up my resources, so... "Um... Dobby?"

With a soft crack, the eccentric house-elf appeared, wearing what looked like a young muggle
boy's t-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur on the front in bright green and several dozen socks on
each foot in a dizzying variety of colors. "The Great Harry Potter calls for Dobby? Dobby is
so happy! What can Dobby do for the Great Harry Potter?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Well, uh... to be honest I wasn't sure if you'd hear me. Are you
still working at the castle?"

"Dobby is, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby has been assigned to clean Harry Potter and his friends'
chambers, Sir."

"Wait... what? These rooms?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, Sir! All of these rooms."

"Oh." The knowledge threw Harry for a bit of a loop. He'd never even seen his tiny friend!
"Well, then you've, er, seen or been told about Lyra? Lilith?"

Dobby nodded vigorously, and a sly, even knowing grin spread over his wide mouth, "Dobby
has seen Harry Potter Sir's special friend, yes."

For some reason, the knowledge made Harry blush deeply. "Uh... that's... that's g- great, I... I
think. Um... anyway, I called you to see if you could help me with something, Dobby."

With another eager nod, the grin on the elf's face vanished, "Dobby can help Harry Potter!"

"Have you ever seen or heard of the Chamber of Secrets?"

The elf suddenly frowned, "Dobby has not. Dobby has heard of that dark place, but he has
not been there. No elf has in many years."

"Well, it's safe now. The Basilisk- Slytherin's Monster- is dead. I, uh, killed it a few years
ago. We could use the space for some things. Is... well, do you know of any of Hogwarts'
House-Elves that would appreciate a lot of extra work? It's pretty bad down there."
"Dobby knows many elves that would enjoy extra work, Harry Potter sir! Can you show
Harry Potter where the dark chamber is?"

Harry grinned and stood up, setting his homework aside for the moment. He was almost
done, and had another day to finish it anyway. "Sure. Can we go now?"

The elf nodded once more.

Harry looked toward the dungeon door, which was ajar as usual with the soft sounds of his
friends enjoying each other's company. "Going out for a bit to talk to Dobby! Back later, have
fun!"

Ten minutes later, Dobby cheered. "Dobby and the others will have this room cleaned soon,
Harry Potter, Sir!"

Harry suspected that even a few House Elves would find the task difficult, however, due to
the sheer size of the place. He did not know how large the Chamber of Secrets truly was, but
he did know there was more than he'd seen on his last two visits. The Basilisk had come from
somewhere, after all, and he had seen no other pipe entrances aside from the one in Moaning
Myrtle's bathroom, so there were probably other places for the great snake to have moved
around in the walls, too. Damn, Harry realized as he watched Dobby begin to magically scour
away much of the slime on the floor where he'd masturbated as Lavender, moving slowly into
the room, there's probably a whole network of secret passages in the form of huge pipes no
one knows about. Even the Marauders never found the Chamber.

Grinning at the possibilities, Harry told the elf, "Have fun cleaning, Dobby. I'm going to head
back up to the rooms."

His diminutive friend said something rapidly under his breath, but he was so excited Harry
couldn't make out what it was.

He continued musing on the problem as he returned upstairs. Dobby and a small army of
elves might still take a while, for there was more wrong with the Chamber of Secrets than old
slime and mildew. It would likely require several major repairs to foundations, grills, and
filters just to clean the water in the reflecting pools and get it circulating again. The seeping
that caused the mildew and mold was an even more pervasive problem, one that could take
months for Dobby alone to complete. If he could get help at all. Not that I mind if he has to
do it himself. It isn't a huge rush.

Besides, his lair- such as it was, he thought with some amusement- was to be secret from all
but his closest friends (i.e., those who had been given Runes by Lilith, and were in some way
bonded to him). It would be less effective if more people knew about it.

That Thursday, Harry and Lyra ended up in the dungeon for some time while Hermione
coached the others, Neville and Hannah included, through the remainder of their schoolwork.
The next night, possibly early Saturday, would be the time either Hannah got her first set of
Runes, or for Ron or Hermione to get their second.

No one, yet, seemed sure what Harry would choose.

In truth, not even he knew.

Still, that hour alone with Lyra left him a few options, and he'd even asked the others politely
not to disturb the pair until one of them came out, and put up the same Do Not Disturb sign
on the door. Not that he'd bothered to lock it, and any of them could undo it with a simple
spell if they had tried, or just use their hands.

Still, with some privacy secured, Harry looked to his Succubus with a small sugar spoon full
of Heliotrope-purple liquid.

"Are you sure about this, Master?" she asked quietly, looking strangely shy and, for once,
back in her tiny, young-looking form she had first appeared in.

"No," Harry murmured, "but if I don't do it now, I'm not sure if I will at all. And you want me
to, right?"

The rosette shrugged, looking away briefly, "I do, but it's not my wants I'm thinking about.
I'm here to service you, not the other way around."

"I know," Harry said quietly, "but I care if you're happy, too. I do want to do this."

Then, without another thought, he stuck the spoon in his mouth. When it came out, there was
no purple visible except a slight sheen on his upper lip.

He swallowed, and over the next thirty seconds, transformed into a copy of Ginny Weasley
once more.

This time, he was more sure, and didn't waste time.

He leaned down over the nude form of his Pet, pressing Ginny's lips to hers while taking her
jaw with two tender hands. They kissed for several seconds while both worked to undress
him- her- before Lilith stood up, pushing him back, and spun them both before lowering
Harry-Ginny back onto the bed and stepping between her legs.

Gently, the smaller girl began peppering quick, fast kisses down Harry's pale, lightly freckled
neck, lingering for a few seconds on each nipple, and then down her stomach to nestle
between her thighs. She didn't lick at Ginny long, knowing that time was important, but the
Succubus wanted to make sure she was excited.

As before, Harry found the sensations of being given cunnilingus extraordinary, and soon he
was fisting his small hands in the Succubus' pink hair, writhing, reaching a crescendo...

That slowly faded away before it peaked. "Sorry, Master," Lilith said with a semi-sincere grin
that only twisted up one side of her cute little mouth, "but... you did ask. This is your cock-
the one you started with. Is it... too much?"

Harry looked down Ginny's body, and shuddered.

There, as she'd said, was an eight-inch long penis, already erect, growing from where Lilith's
clit had been a few moments earlier. It was just as he recognized, only he was now seeing it
from the outside.

It seemed huge, imposing. And he found himself hungering for it.

Slowly, he nodded, and scooted back on the bed so that he was against the headboard with
legs outstretched.

Carefully, Lilith hovered up on invisible wings to stand with feet on either side of his/her
hips, then grew just a little so she could stand and be at the right height, leaving his own dick
hanging with the tip just an inch or so from his mouth.

He shuddered, unable to look away.

It was terrifying, what he was about to do.

It made him wonder if he was gay... he shouldn't want to do this.

But he did.

Something about... being female for an hour, maybe.

Or maybe he was just that perverted.

He raised a hand, lightly brushing the tender folds of Lilith's female sex. "Keep that," he
whispered, "but... but can you grow my testicles, too? They're really sensitive."

"Of course, Master," Lilith replied gently.

He'd gotten used to the rapid transformations from one body to the next, or building and
creating 'clothes' from herself, but watching a new change take place slowly was still strange
to Harry. Her labia didn't vanish. Instead, the Succubus' feminine genitals were simply hidden
by the almost balloon-like expansion of brown, lightly furred and wrinkled skin that seemed
swollen with weight and intent.

Harry swallowed. The addition made the cock seem even more imposing.

"I... okay," he exhaled in Ginny's voice, "I can do this. I... can do it. It's my dick, and you're
mine, my Pet. I... I can do it."

Slowly, Harry lifted a hand, and prodded the hard, silken skin of his shaft.

It bounced, as he'd expected, and Lilith gave a quiet giggle. "That tickles, Master."

Then he closed a hand around it, and started to pump. It felt weird in his hand, doing it from
this side, but Lilith quickly moved her own tiny hands to frame the gonads, thumbs touching
over the top of his base and moving down it, the other fingers pressing into the top of his own
scrotum.

Lilith seemed to enjoy it, though, for she looked down at him with not just tender care, as she
had been, but also growing lust and arousal.
He watched as skin that mimicked his own perfectly flexed and moved as he varied the speed
and grip, then started changing the angle, pulling the skin up over his head for a moment,
then letting it spring back.

Carefully, still stroking once he'd gotten more used to the motion- it was much the same as
when he wanked, only the curved angle and his own hands were different than Ginny's
smaller ones- Harry lifted his other hand to cup, then run a thumb across, Lilith's balls.

She sighed, "Mm... you are sensitive there, Master... I'll have to let Ginny and Hermione
know. That feels really good. Are you okay to keep going?"

"Yeah," he murmured, watching as a bead of pre-cum began to glisten at the tip of the shaft.

He stroked, watching it grow bigger until it began to drip, just a little...

Then he leaned forward and took it up with his tongue.

He shuddered- it was not tasty, and reminded him of old semen and fresh urine, but Lilith
shuddered, her cock lurching in his hand.

And the smooth, soft flesh of her head hadn't felt strange on his borrowed tongue at all. Not
like he'd expected, it was just... new.

Maybe, again, it was because he was in a female body, and the action seemed sort of natural,
but...

Harry hadn't minded.

So he licked her tip again, then, as she looked down at him with wide, violet eyes, took the
head in his mouth and gave it a solid suck, dancing his tongue along the most sensitive part
below the head.

"Oh, Morrigan," Lilith moaned, "You're amazing, Master... it's almost cheating, since you
know how a good blow-job should feel, but... wow..."

He pulled away, analyzing how he felt once more.

Watching her expression of joy, of pleasure, was exhilarating. If this was how Ginny and
Hermione felt, maybe he could understand why they seemed to like sucking him and Ron off.
The sense of control was almost like what he got from dosing someone with Fog of Lust and
then shagging them when they could hardly resist the temptation... or even like that when
he'd taken Mandy, or when Romilda had been a helpless creature of desire.

Yet it was more wholesome, in a way, or at least seemed that way, for it was control born out
of affection. He wanted Lilith to feel good, and he knew that her pleasure was in his control.

Harry grinned, and took her back in his mouth.

"Master..."
He started to bob, but immediately coughed, eyes welling, as she hit his uvula.

But Harry was determined, and he pushed further.

"M- Master!"

There was a pop in his throat as Ginny's tonsils gave way, and she was past, pressing against
the back. It was too much, too-

He yanked back, or maybe she did. Could have been both.

Harry blinked, unsure why he couldn't see, until he felt tears running down his cheeks.

He wiped them away quickly, to see Lilith staring down at him with surprise, "You- Master,
why? You don't need to-"

"You're here for my needs?" he whispered.

"Of course I am," she shot right back, exasperated, "that doesn't mean you need to-"

"I need you to put it back in my mouth. Help me- help me get used to it. I want to be able to
pleasure you, Lilith."

She blinked, looking pained, but nodded, "Alright. If you're sure. Remember, you have to
relax. Tensing up makes it worse. It's strange, but you can get used to it- it just takes practice.
Come on, if you're ready..."

She let him start small, licking the underside of her shaft for a few moments, then pushed in
slowly, slowly...

Until he reached up and grabbed her firm, pert ass and pulled her all the way in using all the
strength in Ginny's arms.

Again, he coughed, but it was easier now that he was fighting his own instincts to relax, and
he held her there while he fought to breathe- or not breathe, when that made him cough
again.

It felt like he was mid-swallow with way too much food in his mouth, and more kept coming.

He swallowed forcefully, and Lilith moaned, trying to buck back.

He knew she could get free if she really wanted to, because Rune-enhanced strength or not,
she was physically stronger, but...

He held her there, and swallowed again, blinking past the new tears.

Slowly, he was able to relax fully.

Only then did he let go.

Lilith yanked herself free, panting, but Harry looked up at her with Ginny's soft brown eyes
and wiped the tears again, "That was easier. Again, my love."

She shook her head, but stepped back forward. "You're crazy, Master. Seriously."

"Maybe I am," he acknowledged, "but I'm having fun watching your face... put it back in.
You do it, all the way to the base."

She did, further than ever before, until he felt his head twist and push downward as it hit the
back of his throat. He wanted suddenly to vomit, there was so much, but...

He didn't.

He took a half-breath, all he could manage before the passage closed off as she pushed out
half-way and back in, then closed his eyes slowly and forced himself to relax again.

It was hard, ironically so, to do something so easy.

But after about thirty seconds, the discomfort began to wane.

He gave a caress to Lilith's balls as they were against his chin, then licked the shaft with his
tongue.

No... this wasn't so bad.

Weird, but not bad.

He gave her a tap on the leg, and Lilith pulled out. Not fast, like before, but slowly.

He gagged again as his fat head hit Ginny's uvula, but kept it under control otherwise.

This time, while his eyes were a little watery, he could still see Lilith's beautiful face. "I did
it," he said with a smile, "Now I can make you happy. Switch positions."

"I am happy," she protested, but did as he asked.

As he took her back in his mouth the angle was all wrong so he slid down the bed, pulling her
by the legs, until she was lying flat and he was sitting on bent knees. "Now... no touching me.
I want to get you off, Pet. No making it faster, either, unless the hour is almost up."

"Yes, Master," she whispered, clearly shocked that he was willing to go so far.

Then, from between her legs, he reached for the base of his loaned-out shaft with two fingers
and a thumb, and the hanging, twitching balls with the other, and started to give them a good
licking, too. Lilith gasped, but he could only handle the weird, rough texture for a few
seconds on his tongue before backing up, and returning to mouth the head with his tender
lips.

"Mm... starting to feel good on my lips," he mused, "that's strange..."

Then he closed them again, and started to bob. Not far, maybe a third of the total length, but
Lilith still sighed and dropped a hand to his red hair, the other caressing one of her tiny tits.

He wasn't that good, he decided, because it took at least five minutes for him to finally notice
Lilith's now rapid breathing, and start to force her head further, making sure he was running
his tongue along her shaft as he pumped up and down, up and down.... he looked up to see
her eyes starting to roll back, her small chest to arch upward...

She grunted, and he felt her balls contract in his hand.

Harry slammed down, hard, on the cock in his mouth.

He felt each and every pulse as it shot up the urethra, and again as it jetted outward, against
the top of his mouth, his tongue, the back of his throat. He coughed again, letting a bunch of
the sweet, white goop escape in the process to dribble down onto Lilith's thighs, but he kept
going, swallowing, swallowing, gulping.... then it stopped, and he pulled away to find her
still hard, with several tablespoons of cum running down her length and legs. He took a deep
breath, then for the first time, leaned in to lick up a glob, then the next...

Soon, Lilith was sighing again, but her borrowed cock was clean, as were her thighs and
scrotum.

Only then did Harry lean back so he was kneeling and wipe his lips with what he knew to be
a very satisfied expression. In fact, he was satisfied. Not sexually- not ever, really- but he felt
full, as if he'd just eaten a meal, and while Dinner was only an hour ago, this was different.

Again he felt energized, full of power and vitality, like when he'd consumed Romilda's juices.

He also felt more randy than before, and couldn't tear his eyes away from that delicious,
juicy, saliva-covered dick...

"How long do we have?" he asked quietly.

Lilith shrugged, "Maybe twenty minutes. Why?"

"I want it in me," he whispered, "I'm such a pervert, I want you to fuck me with my own
cock." Then he lay back, and spread his legs. "Yes... I want you, Lilith. I always do."

"I can make you cum without that, Master," she reminded him.

"But not the way I want you to. Please."

She sighed, knee-walking far more gracefully than Harry felt he ever could, and angled him
down. "If you're sure...?"

Between Ginny's small breasts, he could see his chest and stomach heaving with... something.
Several things, probably. Desire, anticipation, sheer lust, need...

Why did he need this?

Harry couldn't say, but he did. It was set, a fact.

He needed that cock in him, and he needed it badly.

Lilith seemed to sense that, and after a few moments of hesitation, she angled himself
downward, and ran the tip against his slit.

Harry jumped, then harder when she hit his clit.

Then she put in the tip, looking at him lovingly one last time.

Harry nodded solemnly, panting already, feeling stretched, so wide, and...

"Ungh!"

He couldn't help it.

He'd never felt so full. Not just from dinner an hour and a half ago, or the 'meal' of Lilith's
jizz, though that was part of it. No, this was full in a place he hadn't known was empty. Now,
it was stuffed, and he loved it.

"It's probably a good thing we don't have hairs from when Ginny was a virgin," Lilith
murmured into his mouth as her body covered his, tight, hard breasts pressing against his
slightly larger, softer ones. "That would have really hurt. You're so tight, Master."

"I feel full," he whispered, "it's so good. Hot... you're throbbing in me, and I can feel it."

"You're amazing," she shot back, nibbling at his lower lip and pulling it softly with her own,
"can I move?"

"Please. Please..."

She did.

It wasn't like with Ginny eating him out as, well, Ginny, but the sensations were just as
intense, nearly indescribable, as the large penis pulled and pushed at him. Not just moving
the flesh on his clit, though that was spectacular in and of itself with the speed of her motions
after the first few strokes, but everywhere. Her head bouncing, scraping against his g-spot,
her soft skin grinding down into his clit, nipples rubbing against nipples as she wriggled over
him...

It was too much, and Harry began to pant. His hands fell on her tight ass, pulling her closer,
urging the Succubus to go faster.

"I love you, Master," she whined after several minutes, "and I'm cumming in you!"

"Oh Gods," he found himself gasping. The feel of not just the massive dick spreading him
open, but what could have been a half-gallon of that same, cinnamon-flavored semen spilled
past his cervix, pumped into his womb, and stretched it, forcing in more, and more...
Again, his world went white.

When Harry came to, Lilith was licking at him between the legs, sucking her cum out of his
groin, one thumb working his clit in small circles, and two fingers delving deep, pulling out
more of her essence. "Not sure what'll happen when you change back," she murmured, "don't
want to leave much, just in case."

She kept licking, and fingering...

And Harry came again.

And again.

Well past the hour, in fact, and when Harry realized it, he bolted upright. "It didn't wear off,"
he gasped.

Lilith blinked. "Huh. Well... I don't know. You're hairy. Hairier, anyway. Look."

He followed her eyes to where Ginny's normally well-trimmed thatch of orange, often
trimmed to a tiny lightning bolt that looked like his scar would have, should have, been
below his navel.

Instead, there was a growing patch of black hair... but it was far too slow to be the Polyjuice
Potion ending. There was...

"Something else is going on," he murmured, mind racing.

As mentioned, he was getting better at putting together clues that seemed unconnected at
first.

His cock not fitting through the mouth-ring the previous week, when it had been sized
specifically with him in mind.

How he'd slammed so far into Mandy (and he needed to get around to telling his friends
about her sooner or later) and now...

"My body," he whispered, "I..."

"Mm? Master, what is it?" Lilith said, still watching as the orange was slowly replaced by
more and more black.

Then it stopped as he focused on it, and reversed the change.

Soon, it was back to the orange lightning-bolt.

It took concentration, but...

Harry shook his head. "That's impossible. I... I stopped it."

"It's not impossible," Lilith whispered, sitting up with a proud smile, "I already told you
you'd get some of my powers the longer we Contracted, and I've said more than once that I've
gotten a lot stronger very quickly due to how free you're being with me and my nature. So...
let's see. You've already demonstrated Aura of Arousal and Eye of Dominance. Tempting
Gaze you got very early, that's why it's so easy for you to seduce people aside from your good
looks and talent. If you get much better at it- the human 'cap' seems to be about what we'd
call Rank Three, which you're getting close to- you can literally seduce people almost against
their will with a look, like a more intense version of Fog of Lust. It helps to set up Eye of
Dominance, for example, but... Anyway, there's also Cum-Eater. You mentioned feeling full
from that one time with Romilda, right?"

"And you," he noted, "when I... ate you."

Lilith grinned, "Aww, my cum satisfied Master? That's sweet- and good to know. It means
we, if we're ever trapped alone, don't need to eat outside except very rarely. We can literally
just eat the essence of each other, and only need food for the base nutrients once in a while.
Well, you do. I can eat, but I don't have to have them, as I've said."

"So what about this though," Harry asked, gesturing at his pubic hair, which was now back to
something resembling his normal thin, but thickly curled black, which looked decidedly odd
on Ginny's body.

"Maybe," she shrugged, "it was kicked off by the Polyjuice. Maybe it's been coming for a
while. But Body Morphology is the skill I mastered second, right after Invisibility. The day I
mastered it was when I first transformed into the creature from my world, for your favorite
blow-jobs."

Harry grinned, "Okay, so that's good to know, but... does that mean I have it?"

"Seems like it," Lilith said happily, pointing at his nude form, "You can probably only take a
humanoid shape more or less close to your own size, and the changes won't be fast, but I bet
you could turn into any of us if you wanted- maybe even my normal form. It would only look
like it, you wouldn't have my Hellhide and the wings wouldn't let you fly, or the horns to
sense emotions, but..."

"Wait- that's what they do?"

"Yes," the Succubus replied matter-of-factly, "and the tail is a pheromone sensor- a nose. It's
also very sensitive to touch, and is strong enough to be a limb, but most of us don't train it
that well, so they aren't that dextrous. I'm better than most, but I can barely pick up anything
smaller than a quill, even if I can catch myself with it easily enough if I were falling and
couldn't fly."

"That's awesome," Harry muttered to himself, then scooted to the edge of the bed and stood
up, cracking his back, admiring, while he did so, how it moved Ginny's tits from his point of
view. "Now, how do I change back?"

"Focus," she shrugged, "just practice. You already did your pubic hair. Same thing, just a
different part. Maybe focus on one at a time for now."
Harry grinned, looking downward.

It was very, very weird to see his own rather large penis, the current one, enhanced by Runes
and his own apparent morphing powers sprout slowly, an inch at a time from just above
Ginny's clit, but sprout it did, and it grew, and grew, until it hung down to his knees, and
Harry felt slightly faint.

"Careful, Master," Lilith called from the bed when he swayed, "as much fun as that'd be, your
heart and blood haven't kept up. Shrink it back down, or you'll pass out. That kind of change
comes naturally at higher levels, but for now, you'll have to do both at once. There you go..."

It took him perhaps twenty minutes to resume his own normal form, which made Lilith smile,
and Harry sigh with relief. Being Ginny was fine, she was dead sexy in his opinion after all,
but being able to change back to himself was better than being stuck.

"Okay... now I need to tell the others," he said, hurrying toward the door without bothering to
pick up his clothes from the couch.

"Wait," Lilith said quickly, "I... let's let them find out slowly, shall we? Like... when you turn
into a girl and shove that big monster into Hannah, or something."

Harry paused mid-step. "You're such a minx. Good idea."

"It's what I'm here for," she laughed.

She was looking over his shoulder as Lyra once more a few seconds later while Harry
scanned the common room.

The homework was apparently done, and some time ago. It was not just packed away, but the
smell of sex, normally present only in his bedroom and the dungeon, pervaded the area.

Hannah lay atop Ron, who was in her ass, his hands mauling her tits, with him length-wise on
the couch. Neville was over her, his cock in her cunt, while Ginny and Hermione were on the
thick rug by the fireplace, fingering themselves- not each other- rapidly while they watched.

Harry shook his head as he walked across the room said, "I'm going to bed- remember we
have school tomorrow still, and Hannah needs to rest for the next day."

Of course, 'bed' didn't mean he didn't enjoy the hell out of Lilith for the next two hours. He
didn't need sleep anyway.
 Badger, Badger, Badger, Badger
Chapter Summary

Hannah Abbot, yay! Expanded harem! (Note she is not a permanent harem member for
Harry, though she'll be a regular 'friend-with-benefits' for some time. She's ultimately
Neville's girl (as in canon).

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Of course there's also my DISCORD, here, https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw which has all

kinds of fun goodies too. ;) Note the old link, which was set to 'never expire' has expired. I
think the newer has more digits though, so it makes sense they'd change the code a bit.

Chap. 42: Badger, Badger, Badger, Badger

Due to massive assignments the whole lot of them, Hermione included, weren't finished with
their homework until well after eight on Friday night. But that was okay.

He wasn't planning on having an orgy that night. Early Saturday when fewer students would
be looking for any of them made more sense to Harry, but for now...

Again, the whole group was in the common room of his private quarters, most of them
suffering from headaches. Only he and Lyra seemed immune, the curvy half-asian girl not
really caring what grades she got- it wasn't like she expected to 'graduate' without being able
to cast wanded magic anyway, no matter how many spell effects she could duplicate- and
Harry simply focused through it, working through his assignments in a determined manner,
one word and paragraph at a time.

Within five minutes, Ron, Neville, Hannah, and Ginny had all set down their quills and
started rubbing temples or the bridges of their noses, or shoulders and neck, or some
combination of all of them.

Eventually, though, Hermione looked up, "All done? Okay, Harry... what's next? I think either
myself or Ron would be happy to go next, since Ginny's mysterious power hasn't caused any
trouble. Even if I wish you'd just tell us what it is."
It had come out in conversation that both he and Lyra knew what the fiery red-head's ability
was, but they'd kept it a careful secret for, as Ginny put it, 'laughs'.

Even if he suspected she was still using it to spy on her brother's exploits over the last few
days.

"Neither," he said quietly, having conversed with Lyra about the very subject during the one
free period of the week- earlier that day- that he and Ron alone had off, while the boy in
question had been in the loo. "We're going to give Hannah her first set. If it doesn't wear us
all out too much, we'll try and do either yours or Ron's second set tomorrow. I'll let you
decide which between you."

"You up for that?" Ron asked the Succubus, who nodded, "Master's fed me exceptionally
well lately, and you lot have been keeping me aroused, so I'm doing fine, energy-wise.
Honestly, I might've been able to do her set last week. I think we'll be fine. It's exponentially
harder, energy-wise, to do the second set, and again the third, but I can only do that with
Master. I just can't bond higher than two with people besides him."

"Me?" Hannah whispered into the silence left behind by the statement, "I... well, alright. I'm
still- in. I want to do it, I just didn't expect... I kind of felt... useless. I wear out so quickly
compared to you lot, I sort of assumed you wouldn't... want me."

"We do want you," Neville said, taking her hand gently, "all of us do- didn't a couple weeks
ago prove that? Besides, like Li- Lyra said, the reason we can keep going longer is this Rune
sequence she wants to give you."

"So it will help me... keep up?"

"Definitely," Harry answered.

But, also per the discussion with the Succubus earlier that day, they weren't planning on
giving her a standard Rune-set, either. This one, though, wouldn't be a surprise.

"Of course, if you do take up the option," Lyra explained, "You can still be Neville's
boyfriend. But, as far as my people are concerned, you'll be Bonded to Harry. It's not like a
marriage, but that's probably the closest equivalent. You're part of his cottierre. Er, sorry- that
doesn't translate right. Coterie?"

"The... what, a French word?" Hermione asked.

"I think so," Lyra nodded, "meaning, roughly, 'family', but a family you choose. He will be
your 'father and lover', as Xinivrae was to Morrigan, and you will be his 'daughter and lover',
as Morrigan was to Xinivrae. For context, they are the mythical progenitors of our species,
eons past. It doesn't mean he'll actually be your father, it really is closer to a spouse, but
Neville can be your 'brother and lover'. Nothing wrong with that, and lovers don't necessarily
change relationships, as we've already discussed and learned."

"That's... weird," Ginny said, shaking her head, "We could've just gone with, 'Yeah, you'll be
one of us and we can all shag more.'"
"Maybe," Lyra chuckled, "But it's true. At least, according to our stories. I'll tell you if you're
interested some time. Anyway, are you okay with that, Hannah?"

"It- it doesn't change anything? It's just- words?"

"Words with meaning," Lyra supplied, "but yes, just words. It doesn't have to change how
you feel, but it can if you want it to or let it. You'll want Harry more. You'll want me more.
You'll want everyone else more. Really, everyone. Including Neville."

"Okay," she said after a a few seconds, "Wh- where?"

"In the Dungeon," Harry said, standing up and helping both Lyra and Hermione, who were
closest, to rise, while Ron offered a hand to Ginny that she took happily, and Neville to his
own girl.

Then Hannah balked at the silken ties the Succubus picked up from the far wall. "What-
what're those for?"

"Trust us," Neville said soothingly, "We've all gone through it. It's... intense. These will help,
I promise."

With visible reluctance, Hannah nodded. "Okay, so... now what?"

The cluster of bodies standing around her might have made the girl uncomfortable, but
Neville seemed to know what to do. "Take off everything," he instructed, "let me see you.
We'll tie you, of course. That's to keep you from going on a, uh... frenzy. Then we'll get
started. Don't worry, you won't be tied up all night. I swear."

Hannah swallowed, looking quite nervous, but did as she was told, eventually shimmying out
of more plain white knickers and standing tall, blushing deep pink down to her stomach,
before climbing onto the bed and settling onto it in the middle.

Harry was already watching her, entranced as always by the naked flesh, and looking forward
to his part.

Once she was tied with Neville, Harry, Ron, and Lyra each taking a corner while Ginny and
Hermione took a casual seat on the couch, already opening their blouses and unsnapping or
zipping their skirts, the Succubus asked, "Okay. For this to work optimally, you'll need to be
shagged in the mouth, the pussy, and the ass. You can choose who is where, and we can do
duplicates for you, but here's the thing: Harry needs to be one of them. If you want a stronger
bond with Neville, so does he. I don't have to be one, but it helps if I am for later. It'll make
everything just a bit more potent, especially your second set of Runes."

Hannah looked up at her, clearly self-conscious to be nude and watched by so many people,
"How would you...?"

"Secrets, for now," Lyra murmured, "but maybe only for a little while. If it weirds you out,
one of the blokes can do it. Or one of the girls can- you'd either need to lick them to
completion, or they would you. I can also do that, of course."
"I... I think I'd like Nev twice, then," she murmured softly, glancing at her boyfriend.

"Alright," Lyra shrugged easily, "then the last thing to decide is order and placement. There
are pros and cons to each, so let's just get Harry out of the way. If he goes first, you'll again
have a stronger overall bond, but it will also make your bond with him stronger- you'll want
him more. If he's last, the reverse is true. If you blow him, you'll gain some subservient traits-
you'll like to be commanded and controlled more, for example. If you have him in your bum,
you'll probably like a bit more in the way of deviant acts. And the 'standard' way, in turn,
should just increase your drive in general. The same is true for Neville, of course, except he
gets two. There could be other changes, but those are the big ones we can expect.

"Of course, in addition to the added strength, stamina, staying power, and resistance to
illnesses and infections, near-immunity to sexual diseases, and so on. Those are standard."

After a moment of deliberation, Hannah shrugged, "I don't mind being subservient, and Harry
is a good lover... can I have him in my mouth second?"

"Sure," Lyra smiled, "then would you like Neville in your arse or pussy first?"

"E- Either? Does it matter...?"

"Only for you," Lyra murmured, and gently put a hand on Hannah's fat breast, running a few
fingertips over her nipple, which began to swell. "Now, I'm just going to get you started,
dear..."

Her eyes flashed pink-white, and so did Hannah's. A moment later, they closed as they
darkened, and she started to writhe and twitch slowly on the sheets.

"Okay, Neville," Lyra looked up at the young wizard, who was, like all the blokes, still
dressed. Only Ginny and Hermione had taken off anything besides Hannah, and that was just
their ties and shoes, though both now had their bras and chests exposed.

He swallowed. "I... I really like doing it in your ass, Hannah... is that alright? I mean, I like it
everywhere, but... you're really tight."

"Don't care," the girl grunted through clenched teeth, "Gods, I'm so randy. What did you- did
you do, Lyra?"

"Nothing much," she murmured, leaning low to lick the same nipple, "Come on, everyone.
Help her get lubricated... she'll need plenty of juice. Neville, you can put it in her cunt first to
lube up, just don't finish there."

"Er, alright."

Harry did as Lyra asked, reaching out one hand to take up her other heavy breast, and setting
his cock, once he freed it, in her hand. She could barely stroke him, bound as she was, but
Hannah clearly wanted to try, and she started immediately.

To his right, Ginny undressed to her own bra and panties, then started running both hands up
and down Hannah's right leg. On the opposite corner, Ron stepped in to do the same, while
Neville grabbed one of the small but fluffy pillows, and helped set it below Hannah's rump.

Then Lyra turned her eyes to him, "Master... why don't you try your Aura of Arousal? Simply
focus on the effect... it should only affect those in the room. It won't be a huge change, since
it's usually passive, but it can be boosted temporarily."

"Er... alright," Harry murmured, and set to imagining.

Hermione and Ginny, both blowing Ron, deep in lust, his eyes closed as he gasped his sister's
name. Hannah blowing Lyra's Succubus-dick, while she took on Neville, and he pounded
Hannah's ass instead of Neville...

When he opened his eyes, the world appeared just a tint more pink.

And Hannah was gasping.

"Good job, Master. Now... Neville? Remember, don't finish in her pussy yet. You've got to do
that in her ass."

"Yeah, I got it," the once-shy boy said firmly, and started removing his clothes quickly.

Once he was in place, he pushed home firmly, but only pumped a few times as Hannah
started to moan. "So big, Nev..." Then he pulled out, and aimed lower.

This time, Hannah grunted. Neville was about three inches across, and fitting anything that
size into an anus, lubricated or not, was difficult.

But Hannah was growing increasingly used to it and only cried out briefly before Lyra stifled
the noise with her tongue and mouth.

When she withdrew, Hannah's nipples were almost throbbing with arousal between Harry's
fingers, and he could smell her sex running with fluids, of lust and ginger.

Then Neville started to move.

At once, Harry could tell his Aura had worked almost too well, for Neville wouldn't last long.
He was already panting himself, sweat beading on his brow despite the cool room. But it
didn't matter if Hannah climaxed. In theory, she could do the whole Rune-set without a single
orgasm.

But as Neville slammed home after less than a minute of fucking her in the rectum, Hannah
froze, her abdomen clenching tightly in at least a small one of her own.

Harry climbed onto the bed, and took up a position over Hannah's head, while Lyra used her
powers to siphon out every bit of brown-flecked cum into the same white bowl, and began to
draw. This time, she started with either hip, a single rune each, then over the girl's nipples,
and the rest in several vertical lines that ran from the level of her navel downward, each
collapsing into one at the top of her slit.
"You can start, Master," Lyra murmured after she finished with the girl's breasts, "The rest
will all be lower for her, below the navel."

He grinned, "Ready, Hannah?"

"Need cock," she murmured softly, "Need sex..."

He lifted his hips, but she didn't start sucking him off right then. Instead, the girl tilted her
head against the sheets and gave his testicles a good laving, then pulled each, one at a time,
into her mouth and worked it with her lips and tongue before releasing it. "In me," she
whispered. "I want your cock in my mouth, Harry, just like-mph!"

He was smaller now, more like how he'd first been but a bit larger still. Smaller than Dean, he
thought, at least.

Hannah still coughed on him.

But again, this wasn't about her pleasure. This was an act of service, and Harry meant for her
to service him.

"Relax," he told her, pushing his thumbs lightly against her throat to encourage it, "relax and
let me fill you up, Hannah."

She swallowed across his tip, and he used the momentary relaxation to push another inch,
then the rest of the way, until her nose was cut off with the same testicles she'd just been
licking. He held there while she tried to breathe, tried to swallow, and Neville looked on with
growing shock.

Then he pulled out, half-way, and Hannah gasped., "Cock- need it! Put it back inff!"

He didn't stay, this time. Instead, Harry put his arms on either side of the Hufflepuff's hips,
leaning far over her, but leaving enough room for Lilith to work, and looked up her body
between Hannah's beautiful, large tits as he shoved back into her mouth, deep into her throat,
and back out.

He could just see the bulge as it passed from mouth to neck, and the sight turned him on even
more.

He moved faster, harder.

He wanted to fill her stomach, make her swell like she was pregnant...

Harry grunted, pulling out so just his over-sensitive tip was in Hannah's mouth as he
climaxed. There would be time for that when she was lust-mad.

As soon as he popped free, Harry rolled over toward the couch as Lyra pulled the cum free
with a gesture. It flew from Hannah's mouth in a long, ropey string into the bowl to join the
rest, and then she changed sides to sit her pert, round ass on Hannah's tits and start drawing
lines in reverse, from the navel upward. "Neville, it's time. Go slow, though... let her have one
good orgasm before she finishes."
Hermione and Ginny, meanwhile, were openly masturbating again, only this time they were
doing it for each other while Ron stroked himself, watching them, and watching Neville as he
leaned in to start plowing his girlfriend as hard as he could, knowing that she loved it.

"I didn't think you could be that rough, Harry," Hermione gasped, "You just... it was like you
were raping her mouth."

"I kind of was," he admitted, "Why... did it scare you?"

"No," she said, shaking as Ginny caused a minor orgasm in her, "I... I want to try it, one of
these- these days. Maybe tied up, too."

"Minx," he chuckled, then pointed down at his cock, which dripped with Hannah's saliva and
throat bile, "who wants to suck me?"

"Wha' about me?" Ron asked plaintively, casting his eyes around at the various girls present.
His own rod was as hard as Harry's, but he'd had no relief yet.

"My ass," Hermione murmured, "do me in the ass while I suck off Harry, Ron."

Then she turned on her back, lying down with her head over the arm-rest for Harry's optimal
use, and threw one leg over the back while her other sat on the floor for Ron.

Ginny didn't complain when her brother settled in and lifted Hermion's hips to push into her
pussy, pull out, and then drive into her anus instead, much like Neville had done.

Instead, Harry watched past Ron as she started watching them, instead, fingering herself
madly.

He, meanwhile, looked down at Hermione's pleading eyes. "Now, love?"

She nodded.

Harry smiled, "You can aim," then put his hands on her throat, much as he'd done with
Hannah.

She opened wide, and angled him in, making sure to drag her rough tongue along his cap and
member as he pushed in.

The angle, it turned out, was nearly perfect, and his normal-sized, past-self dick went in to
the hilt with nary a snag.

Hermione, of course, was long used to deep-throating now, and didn't so much as hiccup.

"God, that's brilliant," Ron murmured, fingering Hermione's clitoris and one of her breasts
while he watched Harry, "I gotta try that."

"Pleef mfoo," Hermione murmured around Harry.

He grinned, and started to move.

She swallowed on him, again and again, and never asked him to pull out.

Her tongue danced all over him, and Harry grunted. Ginny came first, and Hermione a
moment later. Then Harry, blasting into her throat with conviction, and finally Ron filled her
beautiful, firm ass.

Neville, though, was still mid-coitus with Hannah, who was panting and writhing, slowing
down Lyra's continued drawing, though she didn't seem to mind.

Then he grunted suddenly, and spilled out once more.

As usual, the moment he finished and pulled out, Lyra gathered the semen, her own juices,
and Hannah's, adding them to the final mixture.

Then Hermione pounced onto the bed, immediately seeking out Neville's dick, and licked
him free of whatever Lyra missed including Hannah's delicious flavor, while Ginny jumped
over Harry to settle herself on his lap, facing him on one end of the couch, where she began
to buck wildly, desperate for something in her as well.

He now understood that feeling, having been her.

Which again left Ron unsatisfied, though he didn't seem to mind. In fact, the boy murmured,
"Be right back," and stepped from the room.

As soon as he left, Ginny leaned into Harry's ear and whispered, still bouncing on his shaft
with a crazy speed, "I almost licked his balls again... they smelled so good..."

"Blow him tonight," he murmured, "once things get going. He won't stop you, I think. Or
maybe wank him."

"W- wank, for now," she murmured, "I want to feel him in my hands."

"Good idea, Pet...."

Ron returned a minute later, clean as far as Harry could tell, and lifted one foot to the bed by
the headboard, but otherwise stayed there as he began to stroke himself, now completely
naked, leaving Ginny and Hermione the only ones with clothes on at all.

Hermione was the next to fix that, still sucking Neville while she struggled to push her shirt
and blouse off her back, then more easily added her skirt, before climbing up to straddle him,
sinking down with relish on the boy's wide member.

Ron wasted no time circling the bed to stand at the foot after that, where Hermione looked to
her left and bent to start blowing him, in turn.

"By the way love," Harry murmured, since no one was paying much attention to him or
Ginny at the moment, "I loved the way you made me feel. You're not only an amazing
person, you're an amazing lover and a very cunning linguist."
"I see what you did, har, har," Ginny said through her moans of pleasure, "Getting close,
Harry..."

"And I did it again last night," he admitted quietly, "I let Lilith- the young version- eat me,
too, and then I told her to grow a dick. My dick, the one I had before I Summoned her. And I
blew her, Ginny. I blew my own dick on someone else... and then I let her fuck me. And it
was amazing, having me inside myself, or myself-as-you."

"I do love your dick," Ginny teased, then froze aside from her trembling pelvis for a few
seconds. She started up immediately afterward though, pace more frantic, "A- And I- I knew
you we- were a p-pervert."

"Maybe," he grunted, still softly, as his hands rolled across her boy-like ass with her
movements, "but I'm your pervert... and you're one to talk. You want to commit incest."

"I really do," she hissed, and climaxed again, this time with him joining her.

When they separated, Neville was eating Hannah's pussy while Ron shagged her ass, and he
was in her mouth. Lyra, meanwhile, had sprouted a tiny little dick that might've fit her normal
form for him, and Hermione was tugging that between two fingers while she rode the
Succubus' face at the foot of the bed.

"Everyone seems occupied," Ginny murmured, then rose off him to turn around and face the
group, then spread her rear. "Want my tight little ass meanwhile, Harry?"

"Gods, Gin, you know I do," he said with a laugh, and pulled her down onto him with a
squeal of her own laughter to cap it off.

Three hours in, the already mostly insatiable Hannah hadn't let up, but even Neville was
starting to flag.

Ron was taking a break too, though he was still hard, and Hermione begged off, claiming that
while she was still aroused, she wanted to get some sleep for more study the next day.

Lyra, meanwhile, was face-down on Harry's lap on the couch, his cock deep in her throat
again, while her legs framed his head, her delicious pussy spread wide by each of them
already, dripping with her juices as Harry ate her out.

Which left Ron and Ginny, for the time being.

"Hannah's loose," he complained quietly, "she needs to relax after Neville's been with her so
much, I can barely feel it."

"Wank, then," Ginny said saucily from the other end of the couch.

"Nah," he grumbled, dropping down between them, "I'll just wait... wanking myself is
boring."

A few seconds later, Harry was distracted by Ron's jump and yelp. "Wh- what're you-"
"Wanking you," Ginny answered evenly.

Harry looked down. His best mate was red-faced, staring where he was, at Ginny's pale hand
around her brother's cock. It closed completely, and her movements were sure as she stroked
up and down, smooth and at a medium pace, her grip perfect for Harry, though he wasn't sure
how Ron liked it best.

"I- I can see that," Ron growled, "I mean why?"

"You said it was boring to wank yourself, and everyone else is busy," Ginny said with a one-
shouldered shrug, "so I'm trying to help. But if you're going to keep complaining, I can go
back to pleasuring myself, thanks."

Ron seemed very torn for more than a minute, glancing at Neville and Hannah doing it
doggy-style, then over at Harry, who looked back with as neutral an expression as he could
manage, then turned his attention deliberately back to the still-dripping snatch in front of him.

"F- Fine," he muttered, "just- just don't ever tell Mum. Or Dad. Or- or anyone."

"Nah, I'd never live it down," she chuckled.

Ron sat there stiffly for more than two minutes, then eventually huffed and leaned back,
throwing one arm behind Harry to wrap around Lyra's calf, and the other Ginny's back. She
smiled sweetly at him, still stroking, then shifted her own hips forward, still wearing a sweat-
stained and even cum-flecked skirt and her white blouse, though the bra and knickers were
gone.

Then her free hand pushed the blouse open fully, and she tweaked her nipples.

"Don't do that," Ron groaned, closing his eyes.

"What... you get to enjoy yourself and I don't? Doesn't sound very fair."

"Whatever," the boy muttered, leaning back further still and shifting his own hips forward to
give her easier access.

Ginny grinned happily, stroking a bit faster, and slowly Ron began to relax into her grasp.
When she moaned quietly a minute later, he only cocked an eye, but he kept it open,
watching Ginny play with her tit.

Harry, in turn, smiled into Lyra's bubblegum cunt when that hand dropped to her skirt and
hiked it up to run fingers down her dripping slit.

Ron groaned, but he didn't otherwise move, though both his eyes were half-open, clearly
trying to hide that he was watching his sister jerk him off.

Ginny had no such shame, and presented her body for her brother's perusal fully, aside from
the forward lean she had to do to reach his cock past her knee, which was bent beneath her.
After a few more minutes, after Harry had filled Lyra again only to have her immediately
keep sucking his huge todger, Ginny whispered, "Getting close, Ron? You can cum if you
want. I won't mind."

"G- Shut it, G-Gin," he muttered, "Yeah, I'm g- getting close."

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked. "I can, if you want. If it makes you uncomfortable."

He was quiet for a few seconds, then, "N- No. Keep- keep going. You're pretty good at this."

"Thank you, Ronald," she whispered, "I didn't think I'd like it, but this is kind of fun. I never
wanked Harry, or Dean, you know. You're the only one."

Harry's eyes widened, but he knew it was true. Partially, anyway. She'd definitely given him a
few tugs, but not to completion.

"Cumming," Ron grunted, and his hips spasmed once before his long dick jumped even more,
and a thick rope sailed higher than his head, followed by a second and a third at increasingly
low peaks, and a fourth and fifth wave simply dribbled down him, and onto Ginny's still
slowly-pumping hand.

Then, once he was finished, she very slowly and deliberately brought her hand up to her face,
smelled it, and made sure both Harry and Ron were watching, before sticking the webbing of
her hand between the thumb and fingers into her mouth and licking it clean.

"Ginny," Ron hissed, "That's- that's my-"

"It's your cum, Ron," she shot back, smacking her lips and closing her eyes with a gentle
smile, which turned naughty, "It tastes pretty good- I can see why Hermione likes blowing
you."

Then she proceeded to lick the rest clean, too, before standing back up, "Well, I need one
more hard dicking before bed. Harry? Lyra?"

Harry's arms were getting a little tired, having supported a good portion of Lyra's weight for
more than forty minutes, so he hauled her up and spun her over his shoulder. Once she was
on her feet, the Succubus quickly resumed her true form, and the thick, spiny cock sprang out
a moment later. Ron paled.

"How about both?" Lyra asked innocently.

Ginny grinned, "Great. You in my cunny, Lyra?"

"Sure thing, love," the Succubus murmured, and Ginny stepped into Harry's lap, facing the
summoned creature of lust, and dropping onto his shaft once again.

This time, Ron stared avidly, openly, as Lilith looked toward him, her prodigious breasts that
only looked a little too large on her six-foot frame swaying, as she knelt down on her second
knees, then dove in, shoving half her length into Ginny, who let out a whimper-gasp as she
was filled to bulging by both of them.
Ron, half-limp, started hardening at once. "You can put that in my ass too, if you want," Lyra
told him softly, "but mind the tail. Maybe give it a few licks if you're feeling kinky."

It took nearly twenty minutes for Ron to climax again, even with Lilith's amazing body
working on him, before he staggered to bed himself.

Ginny, caught between Harry and Lilith both, had to endure a blistering pace from both as
they rutted into her, using her lithe body for their own lust, and as a consequence, went
through no fewer than thirteen separate climaxes in that time, before she began to beg for a
break.

She was asleep on the couch, dripping with seed from both holes, before Harry stood up.

By then Neville was on the bed and nearly passed out himself, though Hannah was still trying
to suck him back to full.

"We can finish satisfying her, right, Master?"

"Of course, Pet," he replied, and reached for his discarded clothing and the wand within. "I
don't need to sleep tonight, though I wouldn't mind more of your squirt for afters, once all is
said and done. That will energize me for tomorrow."

Even Hannah, newly given Runes, was spent before either of them were, and even Neville
might have room to complain about stretched-out holes if he'd been up to testing them once
she was finished, her magic-induced arousal finally satisfied.
 Magium Sybbilis
Chapter Summary

Yay, Hermione's super-power!

Also, you know, the orgy sex-ritual that causes it. ;)

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;) It is catching up here (slowly) since I post this story here weekly and that one
every other week, but it'll still be more than 6 months before it catches up.

Chap. 43: Magium Sybbilis

"What do you mean, I'm not getting a blow-job during brunch?" Ron asked with a frown. He
looked particularly grumpy among the lot of friends that had slowly woken and showered
near ten-thirty the next morning, "She always does if she's there," he finished, nodding in
Lyra's direction.

Despite being up for two hours longer than most of them, Lyra was just as chipper and awake
as ever, having received more than ample 'feeding' from Harry and the others. "I'm going to
be busy," she said easily, "like Master said, if you were paying attention."

Everyone that had been in the small orgy the night before was present except for its target.
Hannah was still in the dungeon, quite asleep and worn out, though since waking Lyra had
made it a point to clean up everyone's leavings, even wiping up her own, so that at least
Hannah wasn't likely to wake up stinky and sticky. "Doing what?" Ron grumbled.

"Getting ready for this afternoon," Lyra shrugged, "getting people together. I've got plenty of
energy for either you or Hermione."

Ron blinked, clearly not getting it. "She means another orgy," Harry explained, "like we did
for Ginny. You know- the second set of Runes?"
"O- Oh," Ron said, understanding dawning, "I got it. That, er, that's worth it. Still, it's gonna
suck not being able to get rid of my stiffy during brekkies."

"I'm sure someone will be willing to take care of you after, Ron," Hermione said, taking his
hand, clearly rolling her eyes, "I mean, it's not like I don't have the same issue with always
being randy these days, and Hannah will probably be awake soon, too."

Ginny, standing next to Harry, leaned into him and whispered, "Or I could wank him at the
table... that'd go over well, right?"

Harry grinned, and gave her arse a little slap, "Naughty, Ginny. Anyway, you lot need to get
going or you'll miss it."

The red-head pouted, "You aren't coming?"

"Not yet," he laughed, "Er... later. I ate already."

"That's so not fair," Ron muttered, "that you need so much less sleep."

"I know," Harry shot back, "but hey, my Contract. You're enjoying plenty of benefits, and you
know it. I, er... have a few people in mind that Lyra and I will try to recruit quickly. Who of
you wants to go today?"

Hermione and Ron shared a measuring look, before the taller pointed at his lover, "Hermione.
It still makes me a bit nervous."

The brunette blinked in surprise, "You- won't be jealous?"

"Nah," Ron replied, "Not about this. I chose it, didn't I? Besides, I kinda wanna see..."

Hermione blushed, but not as deeply as Ron did, clearly having gotten some sort of message
that Harry missed.

Lyra, though, glanced between the two, grinning, "Ooh, whatever you're thinking seems like
it'll be fun. We can definitely try to work whatever it is in. You lot get to brunch. Or lunch
rather, it's getting late for the former. We'll hopefully have a group assembled when you get
back."

Ginny led the way, though her hand lingered in Harry's until she was a couple short paces
away before her fingers slipped free. Neville followed, then Ron, who led Hermione out into
the hall. She came back before the door began to shut behind them and whispered, "Um...
will Seamus and Dean be there?"

Harry thought about it for a moment and replied softly, "If you want them to be, or either one.
It's for you, Hermione. They haven't spread it around as far as I know. Anyone you do or
don't want?"

The girl was quiet for several seconds, aside from putting her head back out into the hall and
telling Ron she'd be along in a moment. Then she stepped inside fully and shut the door most
of the way. She looked shyly down at the floor, and murmured, "I... there are... a couple.
Dean is fine. I'm not really that into Seamus, but he'll... do, I suppose. I think we should let
Hannah rest unless she wants to join in, then of course she's welcome. But I, um... I used to
kind of fancy Ernie. Ernie Macmillan, in Hufflepuff. Any- any other blokes are okay, except
for Malfoy and his goons of course."

"Right," Harry said with a nod, "I'll do what I can, then. It's a bit short notice, but we'll at
least get you some fun. See you later, Hermione."

While Lyra went off to find Dean and probably seduce him back to their private rooms for the
afternoon and probably night, Harry left in search of Ernie. He knew already that the
Hufflepuff sixth-year was a studious boy, and while he could be a bit pompous, he was
otherwise genuine and friendly, traits that caused Harry to like him more than any other boy
in his house. He reminded Harry a lot of Neville if his shyness and lack of self-confidence
had been turned into a bit too much.

Aided by the Marauder's Map Harry found the boy at the library within fifteen minutes and
waited nearby, pretending to read, until he'd left his circle of friends at their table and
wandered into the stacks.

A few minutes later, while Ernie was still looking through the haphazard arrangements, Harry
sidled up to him, "Hi, Ernie," and looked toward the same shelves.

The Hufflepuff, it seemed, was working on Care of Magical Creatures, one of Harry's
favorite classes that he'd been forced to drop this year due to the heavy courseload. "Er, hi,
Harry," the boy responded, giving him a single glance, "Can I help you?"

"Maybe," he acknowledged, glancing about and finding no one nearby. Still, he leaned in and
whispered conspiratorially. Preferring a more blunt approach with the open young man, he
asked, "We're having a bit of a party in the castle for some select folks. Good chance of birds
that are up for some fun, if you're interested."

Ernie promptly dropped the book he'd just pulled out from the shelves. "Wh- What're you on
about?" he asked after retrieving it. He was glaring at Harry suspiciously, red-faced too.

"I'm talking about shagging," the dark-haired wizard leaned in a bit further, "witches. There'll
be other blokes there, but it's the witches we're going for. Unless it's not for you? I don't want
to assume."

"You're having me on," Ernie decided, "And I'm not falling for it. And I'm into witches."

"No, really," Harry laughed quietly, forcing himself to stop after just a moment, lest Madame
Pince the Librarian call him out and kick him out of the Library. "We're talking three or four
girls, and four or five blokes- the girls will be entertaining everybody, so to speak. One in
particular asked me to ask you."

"Who?"

Harry grinned at the slightly taller blonde boy's suspicious, narrowed eyes. "Not telling until
after you agree or not. Look, the offer's good today only- in fact, soon, in just a couple hours
from now. It might not come again. I promise, there's no trick, no deception. The only price
is, you never, ever mention it to anyone outside the group that it happened. It stays
completely secret."

"And what's the benefit, then?" Ernie asked, the caution still quite apparent, though Harry
could see his resolve wavering.

"You mean aside from shagging at least three different witches in one go?"

Ernie nodded, turning red again.

"Nothing, yet," Harry said with a shrug. "Maybe not ever. But are you saying three witches in
one night isn't enough?"

"W- Well, when you put it like that," Ernie muttered, glancing back at the shelves, then down
the stacks in the general direction of the table he'd just left. "I... I suppose I could go check it
out?"

Harry grinned, clapping Ernie on the back, "Good choice. Anyway, here's what you have to
do to get there."

He relayed the directions to the Room of Requirement, but only about a quarter of the way in,
Ernie chuckled, "So, the D.A. room?"

"Not exactly," Harry shot back, smiling himself, "if you don't see me or Ron outside, it's
there, but... think of 'the Library'. Okay?"

"The- but we're here now," Ernie frowned.

"Trust me."

"Alright, alright," Ernie muttered, glancing again toward his friends' table, "I guess I can go
tell them something's come up, think of a better excuse later."

"Alright," Harry said, and quickly made his way down to his private quarters once more for
his trunk. He had a few things he wanted to bring up for the occasion... things he thought
Hermione might like.

Even if Hermione didn't, at least he would.

When Harry led Ernie Macmillan, the last to arrive, into the Room of Requirement's version
of a library, the newcomer to their 'parties' wasn't the only one who was gawking.

He had expected something like the Hogwarts Library, but he quickly realized it wasn't quite
the same. There were stacks and stacks of books everywhere, shelves stretching 'as far as the
eye could see', though he knew most of it was an incredibly believable illusion. Only two
tables, which were surrounded by comfortable wooden chairs with deep mahogany or maybe
oak construction and a smooth varnish stood in the reading area while a smaller librarian's or
assistant's desk, with blotter and ledger visible over the top, stood a few feet away by a card
catalog of a style Harry hadn't seen since he was in primary school.

Ginny was dressed, and was allowing Dean to fondle her over her clothes much as she might
have done while they were still dating, with him standing behind and over her. While they'd
left a note for Hannah, the girl didn't seem to have woken yet, and Harry didn't know if she
would be coming at all. Neville, though, already had a hand rubbing the thick bulge in his
pants as he watched both Dean and Ginny, and Lyra as she helped Ron put the 'finishing
touches' on Hermione with one of the objects Harry had brought up: a roll of silvery duct
tape.

The target of the evening, it seemed, had chosen her position: lying bent over a table with a
thick tome in front of her so she could read, and her ankles taped fairly securely to the legs of
each side of a narrow table end. She was fully clothed, but Ron or someone had flipped up
the girl's skirt to reveal silken red knickers, which were already darkening between her legs,
and did little to hide Hermione's delicious, round bum.

The bookworm, already reading (not that Harry expected different, with a book open in front
of her), gave a little wiggle as Ron asked, "Feeling alright still?"

"It's perfect," she replied quietly, voice shaking slightly, "I know I can get away with magic,
but this is... mmm. Is everyone here? Can we get started?"

Lyra had already known Harry was there, of course. She seemed to be able to sense his
presence the same way he could hers, but she still glanced back to see Ernie as well. "I think
so. Harry and your Hufflepuff just came in. Same sort of rules for Ginny. It doesn't matter
who or when or where for this, but every person present needs to climax using your body in
some way, and get their emissions directly onto your skin at some point before I can start
doing the ritual itself. Dean, I'm reminding you that you are allowed, tonight, to climax with
Hermione, but ask before you do it inside her. Ernie, here's how this works."

What followed was a brief run-down of the basically the same instructions Harry had given
to Seamus and Dean two weeks earlier, explaining that yes they were doing a sex ritual, yes
he could enjoy the company of all three women (and Hannah if she arrived), but that the
focus, at least at first, had to be on Hermione. Finally, that while Lyra was drawing the Runes
themselves, any sex with her needed to not interfere in her work.

"Er, I think I get it," Ernie murmured, glancing nervously about the group, "but I... I mean,
I'm not a virgin, but..."

"Liar," Ron laughed.

He was quickly silenced by Lyra, though, who interjected, "He's not, but he's only been with
one person. It's fine, Ernie. Keep up as best you can. You can be the first to finish with
Hermione if you and she would like, but we can also help you out once you've climaxed
once. It will help you later."

"Er, alright..."
Then, to Harry's surprise, the boy began to open his oxford shirt. Once he was finished, he
stepped out of his shoes and pushed down his pants, revealing a semi-erect dick of, as far as
Harry could tell, average size. "You're... you're waiting for me, right?"

Ron shrugged, "We don't have to. But you want to go first, right?"

"We're, um, taking turns?"

"Nah," Neville answered casually, beginning to strip himself, "just giving you the first go.
We'll all join in as we want."

Ernie nodded, gulping, then pushed his pants the rest of the way down and shrugged off his
shirt, blushing deeply as he saw the eyes of everyone in the room except Hermione, who was
facing the other way, on him. With a bit of obvious caution, the boy stepped over to
Hermione then, standing behind her. "Can I- can I t-touch you?"

"Mm," Hermione cooed, giving her arse a little wiggle, "I'm reading, but you can have fun
back there."

Harry could physically smell Hermione's arousal, the clover-honey scent wafting through the
high-ceiling library setting. She took one hand from the book and reached back, making sure
her skirt was up, then gave one of her cheeks a squeeze. "Do you like my bum, Ernie? I've
seen you looking a few times."

"Er, it's, um, p- pretty good, yeah," he stammered, turning red again.

Hermione wiggled again, "Touch it. You can just fuck me too, I want you to. You don't have
to be scared. I've been looking forward to this."

"I-"

Seeing Ernie's clear nerves and hesitation Harry stepped forward, but Ginny beat him to it,
stepping up behind the older wizard and putting her hand around his cock. Ernie froze, then
sighed as she started stroking, pressing her pale body into his back and standing on her toes
to whisper, just loud enough for all to hear it in the silent library, "She really does want this.
She wants this dick of yours in her pussy... don't you want her?"

"Y- Yeah, 'course I do," Ernie muttered, "it's just... weird, with everyone- everyone
watching."

"I see," Ginny slowly, dropping onto her heels and stepping around the boy, still stroking
him, "would it help if I got her excited for you? More excited, anyway?"

She didn't wait for Ernie to reply. Instead, Ginny only turned around and took the two steps
necessary to reach Hermione, making sure to add a little extra sway to her hips, then put her
hands on Hermione's rear. They slid down her muscular thighs as the younger girl sank to her
knees, then back up, before Ginny finally pulled a bit at Hermione's rear cheeks, then stuck
her face between them.

Almost at once, Hermione started to moan.

Harry joined the other boys in removing their own clothes while they watched Ginny 'warm
up' Hermione, though Lyra kept hers on for the time being. It was easier to 'lose' the clothing
if those who didn't know her nature (Ernie alone, though maybe Dean was still iffy on the
subject) were watching.

After he was undressed, Ron chose to go around the table's corner and reach down to run a
hand over Hermione's still-clothed back, then up her side and push it below her to grab at the
side of one breast.

Only a couple of minutes into her cunnilingus, Ginny pulled away and stood up, turning with
a slime-covered chin and cheeks, showing Ernie openly as she licked it up, "Made her cum
already... she's really ready."

Ernie swallowed, then stepped in as Ginny moved to the side, her own hand falling on his
and helping him aim, whispering quiet words of encouragement.

Harry watched not his face, though, but Hermione's beautiful derriere as the Hufflepuff
pushed into her body, warping soft brown, furred flesh as he did. She sighed, "Yeess... that's
it... gods, I'm such a slut... shag me, Ernie. Shag me hard."

"H- Hard, huh?" Ernie didn't seem to want to obey, though, for he started moving at a slow,
measured pace, gently feeling around the round globes as he pushed into them and pulled
back. He had stroked just ten times over the course of thirty seconds or so, before he dared
run a hand up Hermione's back underneath her shirt.

She sighed again, and Ginny, on Ernie's side, leaned up to nibble on his ear, whispering,
"Yes... give her that dick, but don't let her take charge. She's our toy tonight. Cum on her
body all you want, Ernie. Fuck her in the ass, too, if you want, or the mouth. She loves that.
You can have me after, if you want, or Lyra... plenty of time for everyone."

Ernie groaned, closing his eyes with an expression of almost-pain, and ejaculated without
warning. The first pump, Harry knew since he was standing on Ernie's opposite side, was
deep into Hermione. The second was as he tried to pull out, but the next three splattered all
over her rump and then his hand as he stroked madly, "M- Merlin," Ernie gasped, "I... never...
too fast! S-Sorry! I..."

"It's fine, this time," Hermione murmured, "I'm safe, but... not again, okay? On me is... oh
god, you're so hot inside me..."

Harry knew, though, that while Hermione was safe from pregnancy thanks to the birth control
pills she still took, and safe from disease due to the Runes she had or was getting, they still
needed to keep most of Lilith's powers secret lest Voldemort deduce her existence and
servitude to Harry. There was still an easy enough solution though, one that Harry suspected
Ernie might just believe, if only because he wanted to. "Lyra... want to clean her out?"

"With pleasure," the Succubus moaned, sidling up and taking Ernie's place, mimicking
Ginny's movements before using her tongue, he knew, as a way to stealthily clean up any
remnants, and at least reduce the chances of information get out.
The sight was arousing of course, but Ernie seemed too embarrassed by his quick climax to
be able to work up an erection again, so a gently-smiling Ginny sank to her knees in front of
him and started licking up his residue, instead.

The other boys watched on as she did, Harry finding the sight of his Pet servicing someone
else on his orders powerfully erotic. She really does want to make it good for him, because
she knows I want her to. Once he was good and hard again, Ginny stood up, took Ernie by the
dick in one hand, and led him back to the table on the opposite side from Ron. She laid down
on it, opening her legs to Ernie. "Me next," she murmured, "I'm ready. No foreplay needed."

"What's foreplay?" Ernie asked softly, then glanced at Harry. "Er... it's alright?"

"Tonight it is," he answered, "And as for the foreplay... keep your eyes open tonight, you'll
learn something."

This time, no one commented on Ron watching Ernie shag his sister, nor that Ron only
started stroking himself after they'd started, but he quickly hiked one leg up onto the table
and leaned in, presenting half his length for Hermione's mouth, in turn. Then Lyra pulled
back, glistening almost as much as Ginny had been. "Dean? I think you want to go next,
right?"

"S- Sure," the black boy murmured, stepping in and running a few fingers through
Hermione's swollen slit before pushing in himself. She gasped, redoubling her efforts on
Ron's cock, but still kept her eyes on the book even as one hand sought out Ginny's chest
blindly.

From the looks of things Dean was going to last a little while longer, so Lyra used the
distraction of Ernie being fully involved with Ginny to step behind him, fly up a little bit, and
let a small dose of dust from her wings fall onto the group, centered on the newcomer alone.
His earlier slow, methodical movements, like he had with Hermione just a couple minutes
earlier, vanished within seconds. Instead, he started pounding in, thrusting for all he was
worth, grunting and panting.

Ginny moaned as her hands rose to seek his chest, urging him closer, and maybe one of her
hands circled Ron to pull at his arse... she was being shagged rotten, and couldn't be sure,
right?

Lyra beckoned to both Neville and Harry, then, pointing toward the last clear spot on the
table, beyond Ginny and Neville, "Who's on bottom?"

"Er, I will," Neville said quietly, "Um... can I fuck your bum, Lyra?"

"Please do," the Succubus purred, tapping his short, wide erection at the tip, then circling his
deep purple head with her fingertips, "After you, stud."

Neville climbed on, and just a minute later, Lyra, facing up, sank onto him with a sigh of
pleasure, not bothering with lube. "Mm, full..."
Harry, though, had just had an idea with watching her arsehole stretch. "Pet, can you manifest
your tail but keep it invisible?"

"Of course, Master," she returned, and a moment later the black, semi translucent limb
became visible to him and her alone. Harry reached down, sliding it in his grip until he held
just the silky-soft, smooth spade tip, and pushed it against her nether hole. "Two in your ass is
better, right?"

She didn't respond except to grunt as he pushed the tip in, though Neville yelped in surprise.
He kept moving though, one arm circling Lyra's slender waist, and the other reaching down
to grab at Ginny's other small tit.

Only then did Harry lean in not to drive into his Pet but to lick her, because the sweet smell
of her arousal was intoxicating, and Harry felt like he hadn't done enough of it lately. Sure, it
was a bit odd having Neville's balls slapping her flesh, occasionally even hitting his chin, but
Harry was getting more used to that, and cared less and less every time something like it
happened. So he kept licking, doing nothing more to fill the Succubus' pussy than put in a
single finger and twist it, occasionally performing her favorite 'come hither' movement, while
Neville took her more forcefully from behind.

Ernie climaxed again, but this time he was able to pull fully out and stroke madly while he
painted Ginny's stomach and chest with thin but long ropes of his seed. Ron, perhaps spurred
by the sight and perhaps not, climaxed into Hermione's waiting, eager mouth, which
prompted her own orgasm. That fluttering made Dean blow immediately after, while
Neville's short, harsh poundings kept going beneath Lyra.

Harry looked up the curvy body of Lyra's half-asian form, admiring how her stomach was
pulled taut and then contracted in time with Neville's thrusts, how her round, full breasts
swayed in circles and bounced, jiggling, together. She was looking down at him, too,
watching as he continued to suckle on her clit, or move his tongue through her folds with
more puissance than ever before.

He knew what it was like now, after all.

She climaxed, perhaps sensing his thoughts and growing lust, and her contractions made
Neville fill her, too.

When Harry had finished licking through it, Harry moved back to let her and Neville change
positions if they wanted, and looked to his right.

While he'd been caught between Lyra's thighs Ginny had moved over a bit, and was now
kissing Hermione passionately while Dean rubbed his large cock up and down her pale, sex-
reddened pussy, but wasn't yet in her. Ron was now behind Hermione, and Ernie was half-
erect, clearly trying to work himself back up as he stared at the lot of them.

He seemed a bit embarrassed to be caught staring at Harry's much larger, fully erect cock, but
Harry said nothing. It wasn't a matter of pride for him, not anymore, if he could change it
with a few moments' effort. No fair, in other words, as far as any 'competition' could be from
genetics.
He stepped around to take his wand again, cutting Hermione's legs free, and putting it back
away. "Aww," she moaned, casting a glance backward, "I was having fun, Harry."

"Later," he murmured, "I need some mobility for a bit. Doesn't her cunt feel great, Ron?"

"Fucking best one I've ever had," Ron grunted, dealing a slap across Hermione's rear, which
made her jump and squeal, then giggle.

"I'd be offended, if I didn't somewhat agree," Lyra offered as she slid over Ginny, face-down,
and offered her own crotch for eating while popping Dean's fat, dark brown head into her
own mouth as he continued rutting at Ginny's slit.

Harry grinned, reaching over Hermione to thread his fingers through her hair, then using his
other hand to push two fingers knuckle-deep in her anus. She winced and gasped, throwing
her head back.

Neville, instantly hard again like he and Ron were right after a good orgasm, grabbed the
bookworm by the head with one hand, and put the other under her armpit to pull her top half
to the edge of the table, allowing him to shove his member against the girl's lips.

Harry boggled at how Hermione had changed. Even a year ago, less than that, she would've
castrated anyone who had done that, or worse.

Now she moaned wantonly, turning her head to provide a new and exciting angle, sticking
her tongue past her stretched-wide lips to flick it along Neville's scrotum even while she took
his whole length in her distended mouth.

Lyra let Dean's head pop out of her own mouth then, and angled him down on his next pump
to push into Ginny, who yelped herself, then gasped into the Succubus' core, "So b- big!"

The Succubus didn't leave it at that, though. She seemed determined to make the human
beneath her climax before she did, so she leaned in, head tilted considerably, to begin flicking
her tongue a full five inches past her mouth to lash against Ginny's tiny beaded clit.

Still Harry watched on, though he was tempted to cross behind Neville and use either Lyra's
cunt or Ginny's mouth- maybe both- for his pleasure. But no... he wanted to be with
Hermione first, today. It was her special day, after all, like Ginny's had been a couple
weekends ago. If that meant letting everyone else (or at least the blokes) have her first, then
so be it. He could wait.

It wasn't like he wasn't getting his own action, after all, and Harry had always been generous
with what he had, even when it was nearly nothing.

That also didn't mean he couldn't participate, and that was why he'd brought more than just
the tape up from his room. From inside his pants pocket again, Harry pulled the shrunken
form of the long, purple dildo that Lyra had purchased in her social worker guise of Lilian
Vergot, and expanded it fully. Then he did step around to Lyra's shaking rump, which was
driving helplessly against Ginny's talented tongue, and reached out to spread her folds with
one hand. The Succubus moaned, and beneath her Ginny did the same as she looked up at
him, her soft brown eyes glimmering with amusement and lust.

When he pushed the shaft in, Lyra began to orgasm at once, already near the edge from
Ginny's efforts. Having a rod quite as large as Dean's shoved into her quickly proved too
much, and the Succubus squirted against Ginny's mouth, her nose, and even a bit flicked up
to land droplets on Harry's chin as her pelvis ground down and back up furiously.

He sawed it back and forth until Ginny climaxed too, half a minute later or so, then left the
slender girl to take over, and moved back to Hermione, whose eyes were rolling back in her
head with the force of Ron's pounding on one side, and Neville's on the other.

He waited, only trailing fingers along his own huge cock, until Ron finally pushed in fully,
filling Hermione with his spunk before slowly pulling out. Then, while his mate's own large
load was still running out of the dripping hole, half-filled with bubbling white goop, Harry
shoved his own length all the way in... and he was larger than usual, nearly a full inch longer.

Hermione gasped as he pushed past her cervix, too. She could normally just feel him
brushing against it, even with his expanded size before, but now, she shuddered with a
strange combination of incredible pain and pleasure mixed together, and her eyes really did
roll back in her head as she lost consciousness briefly.

Buried to the hilt in the girl, who had collapsed seconds after he drove home, Harry willed
himself just a little larger still. Wider, and even longer. He felt her walls stretch and smooth,
pull taut around him, even as the lubricant made Hermione's channel even more slick than
Ron's leavings had. Then he started moving, emulating Ernie's slow, measured pace for the
time being, as he leaned in low over Hermione to see her cheeks bulge with Neville's penis as
he kept rutting.

Ron grinned, cock laden with his and Hermione's juices, and moved to stand at the end of the
table where Harry had been before, and flicked a dollop of the mix onto Ginny's forehead
before climbing completely onto the table and leaning down to squat over Lyra, and pushed
into her rear. The moment he did, Lyra started panting and gasping. Her cries of passion
apparently had allowed Ernie to return to full mast, for he sidled up next to Dean and asked,
voice hazy with lust and eyes clouded, "Er, never had a girl use her mouth on me. Can I...?"

Perhaps predictably, Lyra scooted over a little, angling the upper half of her body off of
Ginny's abdomen to reach him, then started going down on the boy.

Dean yanked out of Ginny, big hands jerking wildly on his long cock while he spurted over
her tummy and Lyra's shoulder, then took a few steps back, gasping, before he fell limply into
one of the chairs to watch for a moment while he recovered.

Harry, meanwhile, slowly withdrew from Hermione, hating himself from doing it, and once
he was, reached down with his prodigious strength to roll her over so she was face-up, and
dove in once more. He fisted two hands into her blouse and ripped it open, sending buttons
flying, then repeated the process with what had been a nice, sky-blue bra, then leaned in to
suck on one teat. Hermione started to moan as she came to again, one hand moving up to curl
in Harry's hair. "I liked that bra," she moaned.
"I'll buy you another, then," Harry grunted. Even though he had been waiting, he wasn't close
to climax yet, but he was very much enjoying the process of getting there as Hermione's
walls, stretched perhaps further than they ever had been, molded and warped around his new,
larger size. "You want some more cocks, slut?"

"I want all the cocks," Hermione moaned, pushing her hips up to match his in time with the
slow process, "In my ass, my young pussy, on my tits, in my mouth... I want them
everywhere. I'm a slut, Harry, I'm your slut."

"That you are," Harry groaned, then looked up at Lyra, who was still being impaled on either
end by Ron and Ernie while she was eaten out again by Ginny beneath her, "Lyra, once
they're done, I want a round of Fog on everyone here."

She didn't respond, but Harry knew she'd heard.

He was past caring if Ernie knew she was a Succubus.

He just wanted Hermione (and the others) to have as much pleasure as they could, even if the
Fog barely worked on him.

He didn't need it, but Harry wanted the others to lose control.

"Do you want me to make you pregnant?" Harry asked again, quieter, whispering into
Hermione's ear as her body shook beneath him, "I probably can... maybe not through your
birth control, but I'd give you a child, if you want one. I love you."

"I know," she whimpered back, hand in his hair tightening to a fist as she gasped, "One day,
Harry- but I want you to cum in me anyway. I love your cum, yours and Ron's, and Lyra's,
and-"

He did, spurred on by her dirty talk and clear desire for him. As was becoming more
common, lately, it wasn't what one might call the 'normal' two tablespoons or so, either.

Harry felt like that much was released in the first spurt... and there were nine more behind it,
each moving from his balls upward past his long, long pipe and out into her womb, the first
time he'd ever filled it completely. He left her stomach bulging while he pulled out, still hard.

"That's enough from the blokes," Lyra murmured as she pulled up, dripping cum herself,
from Ron and Ernie, "I need to get to work soon. Ginny, let Hermione lick you now- in fact,
both of you eat each other for a bit."

Then she shifted, growing her wings and tail and horns on Lyra's normal form, and rose up
into the air.

Dean and Ernie both blinked, wide-eyed at the first true reveal either of them had that Lyra
was not a normal human witch, but settled quickly back into uncaring lust as the faint pink
dust fell over them.

Harry moved over to the Hufflepuff first, tilting his chin up, and doing his best to will his Eye
of Dominance to activate. "You will forget that Lyra has wings and a tail. Lyra can't fly- you
must have been dreaming or imagining it. Your mind is so foggy with lust right now, it's hard
to make sense of things, but you had a great time tonight, shagging Hermione and Ginny, and
having Lyra blow you. Now... sleep."

This time, Harry knew it worked, at least partially, because Ernie immediately slumped in the
chair and began to snore quietly.

"H- Harry?" Dean murmured while he took two sideways steps to the next chair. "What-
what're you- what did you do to-"

"Relax," the boy told his roommate, "I'm not doing the same to you."

He activated the power anyway, though, just to be sure, "Lyra is Lilith, the Succubus. You
won't tell anyone, ever, about that, but you will know. She is your Mistress, and you obey her.
She wants you to keep this quiet from everyone we- she or I- don't tell you to. Isn't that right,
Lilith?"

Lyra, who was just settling to the floor and allowing her extra appendages to vanish again,
smiled his way and chirped, "That's right."

Dean nodded, eyes glazing with pink and white light.

"Rest, you've earned it. When you are ready, you can join us again, but remember this is work
time. Don't make Lyra or Hermione bounce until she's finished."

"Yes," Dean murmured woodenly, relaxing into the chair himself though he was already
stroking a hard-on thanks to the second dose of arousal-inducing dust.

Harry turned back to his friends to find Ginny sixty-nining Hermione and Lyra on her knees
next to the table blowing Ron and Neville, alternating between them, then putting both in her
mouth for a moment. The two boys shared a look, but also shrugged as if to say, "What are
you gonna do, stop?"

Harry understood the feeling. It would be more fun for everyone if they were all a little less
squeamish about genital contact. You couldn't both stretch out a vagina if you couldn't stand
to be in contact, right? Speaking of... Nah, later, he decided, then moved to where Ginny's
tongue, showing no signs of fatigue yet, was flittering in a blur over Hermione's snatch.

The red-head, hair framing both her face and the girl below her, looked up as he approached,
"Hey, Harry- want to be in her again? She's rea-mmf!"

"I think I'd rather be in your throat first, Pet," Harry murmured, two inches of his new, larger
size in Ginny's mouth.

She glanced up at him reproachfully, but swallowed around him, and started trying to use her
tongue to please him even more all the same.

He pushed further, and she gagged, but didn't tell him to withdraw. "Gods, your throat is
tight, Gin," he gasped, taking her by the head as he pushed in just a little more. She convulsed
around him, but Harry couldn't push further. Well, he could, but not without hurting her.
Reluctantly, he forced his member back to something more approaching how he had been
before meeting Lilith, and was suddenly able to nestle the girl's cute, freckled nose against
his pubic hair.

Her eyes were watering as she looked up at him, but Harry only pumped in and out once
before pulling free completely, then sinking down to look her in the eyes. "You okay?"

She thought about it for a moment, then nodded, "I wish I could take you all, Harry, like
Hermione..."

"I cheated," he shrugged, "I... well, I'll tell you later, but I want you to try again. Taste-"

Harry glanced up to find Ron thoroughly absorbed in skull-fucking Lyra with Neville beside
him and leaned in, whispering, "Taste Ron's cum on my dick."

Then he stood up and pushed in, not to Ginny's mouth, but Hermione's sodden hole, slicking
in and out a few times then pulling free, and offering it up to Ginny. She grimaced as his tip
prodded her mouth, but opened it after a moment anyway.

He pushed in slowly, giving her plenty of chance to run her tongue around him, gathering up
every bit of his and his mate's jizz she could, letting her savor the mixed flavors, then pulled
out again. Once more, he sank down and asked quietly, "Taste good?"

"Y- Yeah," Ginny admitted, blushing, "I... it was mixed with yours."

"But that's not all you liked about it, was it?"

Slowly, shyly, Ginny shook her head, looking down.

"Good girl. Lick Hermione, love... I'm going to fuck her, and your face."

Ginny moaned as he pushed into his best friend's pussy this time, stroking several times
before pulling out to move up toward Ginny and repeating the process, slowly feeding her
more and more of both him and Ron's essence as it leaked or was pulled from Hermione.

Ginny was the next to climax on Hermione's mouth, but the bookworm did a moment later,
too, followed by Harry.

Once she'd satisfied Ron and Neville, who climaxed together into her eager mouth, Lyra
stepped up and began glowing, her arms and hands shining pink-white, and cum began to
flow from each of the girls, and even a bit from the boys, until she had another sphere about
nine inches across. "Mm... not as much as before. We'll make do, though, it's probably just as
potent a mix and the amount used doesn't have to be the whole thing. You'll still need to have
me, Hermione, before I start drawing though. Or maybe while I do. How would you like
me?"

The blissed-out girl on the table slowly turned a sweaty brow in the Succubus' direction, then
whispered, "I... I want your girl-cock."
"Okay," Lyra grinned, smiling at the surprised expression on Ron's and Neville's faces as the
beautiful creature began to sprout her other appendage between her legs. The squirt and
semen mixture floating over her head, Lyra stepped into the space between Hermione's legs
and pushed in without preamble, sighing as her delicate hands circled Hermione's hips.
"Gods, you do feel good. Such a delicious twat, slut."

"I'm a slut," Hermione whispered, ane leaned back to let Lyra enjoy rutting on her.

Which left Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Neville free.

The siblings shared a look of worry, but Harry smiled internally. He'd been waiting for this
moment. "Neville, you like Ginny's tight arse too, right?"

"Hell yeah," the once-shy boy declared, reaching out a hand for the slender witch, who let
him pull her close, and reach around her to fondle her chest while he humped her ass cheeks
for a moment.

"Have a seat on a bigger chair," Harry instructed, pointing at an arm chair that materialized as
he thought it. Neville grinned, tugging at Ginny as he did so, and soon she was settled against
him, sighing.

"I want my girlfriend's spunky cunt," Harry declared next, stepping in as Neville scooted
forward so he could lean back, and took himself in hand to run his tip along Ginny's dripping,
swollen slit twice, then pushing in with a sigh.

"Wh- what about me?" Ron murmured quietly, sounding lost and saddened.

Harry was immensely pleased when Ginny, eyes locked on his face while being filled in both
lower holes, raised her right hand in Ron's direction, made an O-shape, and moved it up and
down.

"I, er..."

Ron still still stepped forward, though, and stopped next to the chair, looking down at Ginny's
chest.

She fumbled, reaching for him, even slapped Ron in the stomach, but after a few tries she
found him, and started pumping.

Neville didn't seem to notice, buried beneath waves of Ginny's luxurious red hair, but Ron
groaned as his sister started wanking him again.

Harry knew he would be a while cumming this time, because he wanted to enjoy this. Not
just Ginny's amazingly tight hole, though he loved that as always, but how she writhed,
pinned between his slower, forceful pumps and Neville's own rapid-fire thrusts, and how
erotic she looked, covered in sweat and smelling of sex, plus the taboo of trying to sexually
please her brother with her hand.

He didn't know how long he was shagging Ginny like that, but Harry did know that Neville
had climaxed twice directly inside Ginny's rectum, and that Ron had finally cum, too,
pumping himself into Ginny's hand. Like before, she'd made sure he was watching while
licking it off, then reached out to gather more from his length and did the same. Then Ron
had staggered away, looking lost, and very, very confused, while Harry kept going,
accompanied by schlicking sounds and the slap of skin on skin.

Eventually, Harry realized that Neville had passed out, still humping into Ginny's bum, and
she was starting to head that way as well, so he pushed forward into his own orgasm, the first
one in more than an hour at least, and pulled out to leave the freckled witch trembling with
aftershocks and leaking out onto the floor.

Most of it didn't make it, siphoned off to join the much smaller sphere hovering over
Hermione, who was also unconscious, taking Dean's big dick in her ass slowly while Lyra
drew around her throat. Harry could see the same miniscule, pearly-white runes sketched
over every inch of his swotty friend's body, and knew at once that Ron, who was passed out
himself on the floor, had worn her out before Dean joined in, and the black boy's eyes were
glowing brightly.

"Is he only going because you're making him?" Harry asked quietly.

Lyra didn't look up from her drawing, which was moving up toward the underside of
Hermione's jaw, but replied, "Yes. He's technically unconscious, too. It's nearly two in the
morning, they've been going for almost twelve hours. I'm surprised you aren't asleep."

Harry shrugged, "Might've been, I don't remember much of the last bit. Ginny's pussy is
just..."

"I love shagging her," Lyra agreed with his unfinished statement, "and Hermione. I loved
shagging you, too."

Harry blushed, but nodded. He had enjoyed the experience of being Ginny while Lilith used
his own dick to shag him. Yet, while it was lust-inducing and exotically erotic, Harry didn't
feel the same pull to have her cock himself as he did while he was a girl.

Maybe it was the hormones...?

Harry considered Dean for a moment, who was looking haggard and worn. "Is he going to be
okay? It can't be healthy."

This time, the Succubus looked up, blinking almond-shaped eyes, "Do you care? He's a
Thrall, a slave."

"And my friend," Harry reminded her gently.

"Mm, that's true. Yes, he should be alright. He'll be dehydrated and need to rest for about
sixteen hours after this, but it's nothing he won't recover from, and he'll at least be able to
dream of the night he shagged Hermione five times."
Shortly after Dean climaxed again and Lyra told him to go rest 'out of the way', she finished
drawing a set of Runes around Hermione's lips and cheeks, then moved up onto her forehead.
"Er... you did a set for Ginny there, too?"

"No," Lyra answered, still not looking up, "Each set is different. Ginny and Hermione value
different things, and each schema must align with them, or it won't work. I know them well
enough to know what they value, though, so we'll be alright. Ginny wants to be loved and
cherished, and values her body and sports, and so on.

"Hermione, on the other hand, values her mind more, so I'm linking her sexual pleasure to
heightened intellect, and tying her oral skills back to her own pleasure."

"So... she liked blowing us before, now she'll really like it? And she'll have flashes of what...
inspiration, while shagging?"

Lyra nodded, looking up at him, "Something like that, anyway. I think, if it works the way
I've intended it, she will be able to orgasm more regularly after taking a load or two in her
mouth. Maybe not an intense one, but something at least, as it feeds pleasure to other parts of
her body. The inspiration, yes. You know how running or jogging can help you clear your
head, because it stimulates blood flow to the brain, allowing you to think more clearly? Same
process, there. Shagging will literally make her smarter."

"Huh," Harry murmured, "could I get a set that does something like that?"

To his surprise, Lyra looked up at him, not drawing for a few moments, then leaned down
again without answering.

She finished with Hermione's forehead and sat back, shaking her fingers out, then physically
pushed them into the sphere of sexual fluids. "Ah... that's better, they were cramping at the
end there. Roll her over, Master?"

He nodded, using magic to do so as it was more gentle. Once he'd stowed his wand again, he
murmured, "You don't have to answer. But can I know why?"

Again, she was a few seconds responding, and Lyra resumed with a sigh, pulling her hands
from the cum-ball and examining them, then reaching out for a dab and starting the thin
stream up again as she started tracing runes carefully through Hermione's hair at the back of
her head, "It's complicated, of course. You're... well, human enough for your Polyjuice Potion
to work, at least mostly, right? They will be, after this, too. But you're my Contractor. You
already have more benefits than I can give them, even if somehow I worked out a way to give
them three Rune-sets, which as far as I know is impossible."

"I have noticed I'm better at school, and things," Harry admitted.

Lyra nodded, not looking up from her work, "That's part of it, of course. Yes, I can give you a
Rune-set like this. Yes, it will have some effect, though not as powerfully as it would for
them. But there are other prices, too. Prices I'd rather not discuss right now."
"Okay," Harry said, shrugging, and ran a hand over Hermione's slit, then used its lubrication
to circle his cock-head, "That's alright."

As he pushed into the girl, who sighed in her sleep, the Succubus looked up again, "That's it?
You aren't going to press me?"

"Oh, I'd love to press you," Harry chuckled, "but I trust you. If you have your reasons for not
telling me, that's fine."

Lyra rolled her eyes, grinning, but still looked a bit pink as she said, "Oh, fuck your slut and
let me work, Master."

Unlike with Ginny, the results of Hermione's Rune-set were immediate from the moment she
woke up, at nearly noon on Sunday.

Harry glanced up at the nude girl's cry of alarm, distracted from Ginny's licking his balls
while Lyra swallowed the top half of his dick. Ernie and Dean had wandered off hours earlier
in confusion, but the perpetually-aroused teens hadn't wanted to leave without their friend, so
Ron was balls-deep in Lyra's scrumptious ass, and Neville in the red-head's cunt while
waiting for her.

"It's so bright," Hermione gasped, glancing around, "and- and I can see it. All of it. All the
magic- at least, I think that's what I see."

"Holy shit... r- really?"

Hermione nodded excitedly, a wide grin splitting her face to reveal several shining teeth. She
jumped out of the bed and gathered her clothing quickly, throwing it on haphazardly. She
even forgot her knickers, Harry noted with amusement. Her bra was the only thing Hermione
seemed to want to take the time to don properly, though it took a few waves of her wand to
repair, though she tied her shoes off accurately enough without looking. Instead, the witch
seemed determined to observe every single object in the library her imagination had created
while she dressed.

Then she was gone, an amused and dripping Lyra pulling herself off of Harry and Ron. Ginny
immediately filled the central space instead and doubled her enthusiasm from a lingering,
playful oral job to a frenetic one. Ron on the other hand, frowned. "Where're you going?"

"Someone ought to keep her," Lyra giggled toward Hermione, who was already making her
way to the door, "from getting into trouble while she's distracted. Don't worry, I'll keep her
safe until she gets back to the suite."

"Thanks, Lyra," Harry said with a smile, "but you might want to dress yourself."

"Oh. Right," the Succubus said with another laugh as clothing materialized around her. "See
you lot later!"

Then, like Hermione a moment before, she was gone.

Ron watched them both go, then turned back to the scene before him. He sent another
questioning look to Harry, who only winked at him, then pointedly looked back at the lithe
ginger being pushed into Harry's dick by their house-mate behind her.

The taller boy sighed, then leaned back against the table and started wanking his pussy-
slicked member. "Fuck it, you lot seem to like making me watch my sister turn into a slag, so
I guess I should."

"That's the spirit," Neville muttered, "Just do it. Isn't that what the muggles say?"

Harry grinned. Somehow, he doubted Neville had ever heard the American trainer company's
slogan from an actual commercial, but it fit anyway. "Something like that. You gonna do it in
her?"

"Nah," Neville grunted this time, "I like watching it on her back, I guess sorta like Ron does
on their tits."

"Right, right. Okay."

A few seconds later the shyer boy grunted a few times then yanked himself free, finishing the
job with his hand as he spurted onto Ginny's lightly-freckled back. She didn't let up on the
blow-job, but with every splatter of new seed on her back, Ginny slowed once more, and as
Neville stepped back and away, she eventually let Harry pop out of her mouth again to
resume licking him instead. "Thanks, Nev," she said mid-lick, "that was fun. See you later."

"Y-Yeah, later," the dark-haired boy grunted, sending Harry and Ron both a glance, the latter
a bit more embarrassed, as he scooped up his own scattered clothing and dressed hurriedly as
well. "I'm gonna go check on Hannah, see if I can get her to eat something or maybe head
down to the Hufflepuff Common Room again."

"Thanks, mate. Take care of her," Harry said casually, resting a hand on Ginny's head.

Once he was gone, Harry turned to Ron, who was still watching them, red-faced himself. "I
want to show you something, later."

Ron grunted. "Sure, Harry. Uh... I should g-"

"I'll suck you off too, if you want," Ginny offered out of the blue.

Her brother, who had turned half-away mid-stroke to find his own clothes, stopped suddenly.
"You- you what?"

Ginny switched to jerking Harry with both hands instead as she looked over at him, her face
flushed too as she repeated, "You've both been teasing me for days and days. Making me
taste my brother's jizz several times, shagging my best friend with your long cock right next
to my face, sticking your sweaty balls in my mouth-"

"That was you!" Ron almost shouted back, pointing an accusing finger at Ginny along with a
very erect penis.
"Only after they'd been swinging in my face for a few minutes," the reminded him, "but I'm
not complaining. Your cum tastes almost as good as Harry's. It was gross the first couple
times, 'cause you're my brother, but it's not so bad now. I have a feeling Harry's going to keep
teasing us with it anyway, so you may as well just let me do it."

Ron was quiet for a long time, his hand still but gripping himself tightly as his erection
throbbed with every heartbeat. Finally he looked to Harry, "You know.... you know we
aren't... supposed to do things like that, right? Even... even watching each other is... People
wouldn't understand. Her wanking me the other night was..."

"Sexy as fuck," Harry supplied, then continued, "and I don't care much what others think.
Ginny wants to. I want her to, I want to watch. If you don't want to, that's fine, just say it and
it'll be done, no more teasing. If you don't get her pregnant, then I don't see the problem. And
how're you gonna do that with a blow-job?"

Ron swallowed. "I... I have to think about it. Not- I'm not saying no. Gods, I can't believe I
just said that, but... not yet. I'm... I'm not ready to do that. Not sure I ever will be."

"Okay," Ginny said quietly, then spun around onto her hands and knees so she was facing her
brother. "But while you think about it, Harry's gonna fill me with that big cock of his, and I'm
gonna watch you wank. Is that okay?"

"So fuckin' weird, both of you," Ron muttered, then nodded.

As Harry got into position behind her, he told the other boy, "Maybe, but it's pointless to deny
you've been watching your sister get shagged silly by this point, so you're fuckin' weird too,
mate."

"Too right I am."

"So what exactly are you seeing?" Lyra asked Hermione quietly as they made their way
through the lower levels of the castle from the seventh floor. There were several students in
the halls, but they walked alone or in small groups only intermittently, giving them chances
here and there to talk. Most of the student body, Lyra knew by now, would be either out on
the grounds enjoying the good weather the weekend had carried with it, or in their common
rooms preparing for dinner and an evening of homework before classes resumed the next day.

The witch didn't pause in her stride, but she did slow slightly to point, "I'm noticing patterns
already. Everything mostly just has an aura of some color. At least, that's what it looks like.
The windows are faint green, almost like grass. I think that might be the bug-repellant wards?
But the portraits are all some color of deep purple. The intensity on those varies, I think
maybe with age, but I'm not sure on that yet. The boys and girls have their own glow, but it's
different for each of them. Everyone has their own color and shade and strength. You do, too.
With this, I can even tell you aren't human by looking at you. No more fooling me with false
appearances!"

Lyra grinned, eyes wide, "Really? I didn't know that. Describe my aura?"
Hermione blinked, missing a step. "What? You can't see your own?"

The Succubus shook her head, "Doesn't work like that. Unless I'm very much mistaken, the
power you got was one we call Magium Sybbilis. I don't have it. I could learn it, but I haven't
so far."

"I thought you said we'd only get powers you had?"

Lyra shrugged as she continued walking with the witch, "Usually that's the case, but as
always, exceptions happen. You're pretty heavily dedicated to magic and observing the world
around you. I wouldn't have predicted the power you got, but it's not that surprising in
hindsight."

"Interesting. Anyway, to answer your question, you're a sort of silvery-pink, and it moves like
mercury almost. Flowing, but also pulsing. Maybe... three inches out from your body in all
directions."

"What about yours?"

Hermione shrugged as she glanced at an open hand., "I can't see my own. I'm not sure why.
That bloke there, Banson I think his name is, the third-year? He's vibrant green, pine but
radiant, and shines light reflections on water. The girl he's talking to is dim and red-orange,
like a low fire."

Once, the witch would have thought it strange that a pair of third-years were talking so
openly in the corridor without any embarrassment, much less leaning in close and speaking in
hushed tones. They were nearly kissing, their heads were so close together.

But as they passed, she heard the girl say without bothering to whisper, "Fine, you can put it
in my mouth, but not here. And it'll cost you two galleons."

They walked several paces before Hermione turned to look over their shoulders, "Did she
really just agree to suck that kid off for two galleons?"

Lilith nodded, "It's my influence, probably."

The witch frowned but nodded. They resumed walking, and in a few more minutes they
arrived at the suite's entrance. "This ward," Hermione said, continuing listing off what she
could see now that she could not before, "is almost black, like a deep shadow, but it doesn't
feel hostile like that Slytherin's. It's more like the cover of night, I suppose, rather than
mean."

"That's good to know," Lyra told her as she opened the door and let them both in. Once they
had passed the threshold, though, she quickly shifted into her normal form. "Do I look any
different?"

Hermione glanced over, then grinned as she let her eyes rove the slightly off-colored skin.
"Aside from your huge boobs and that cock you grew, no. Your aura is the same."

"Neat. I suppose you can tell me apart, then."

Hermione grinned, "And I can tell you're randy, too. Should I just blow you right here?"

The Succubus smiled as Hermione sank to her knees. "Well, if you're offering..."

"I do love sucking cock," the brunette reminded her, "probably as much as you do."

"And you're so good at it," the creature replied as Hermione went to work. She let the witch
suck on her for a few minutes, growing progressively deeper, until Hermione seemed to be
used to letting her lips relax around the short, knob-like spines that dotted her member, then
asked, "This doesn't bother you, then? I mean, Harry and Ron aren't even here."

Like Ginny had upstairs, the witch switched to her hands while she thought, then looked up
between the fat globes to look at Lilith while she answered, "No, for several reasons. One, I
know you belong to Harry, that you are Harry in some ways, at least magically. Two, I've
come to the conclusion that as long as I don't hate someone, I do enjoy blowing them. The act
itself is fun for me, if nothing else. Three, I like being in control and I like helping others.
This does both. Four, I've started to think of you as something other than completely female,
so since you can grow a penis, it doesn't trigger the 'don't like females that way' thing. Fifth...
well, Ginny. Hannah. You. You've all been female and made me climax. It still feels good. I
don't enjoy eating pussy as much as Ginny does, but it kind of feels like a blow-job as far as
the control and service thing. And you do taste pretty good, your cum I mean."

"Mm. Alright. Well, for what it's worth, I'm very glad you've been willing to try new things.
To be honest, that first night at Sirius' where I showed you my dick, I thought you'd be done
with me forever. Most humans don't... go for that sort of thing."

"Harry doesn't mind either," Hermione pointed out as she went back to mouthing the
Succubus by running her lips along each side then closing over the tip.

"No, but Master is a top-class pervert," Lilith giggled, "I mean, he summoned me. Right now,
he's thinking about watching Ginny suck her brother off while he pounds her from behind.
Those are just some examples of what he is willing to do."

Hermione blushed deeply and pulled off again. "I- Incest? That's... that's, um... sick. Right?"

The Succubus smiled kindly as she looked down her body at the girl on her knees, "Brother
and sister? No more or less wrong than a daughter pleasing her drunk father one night on
vacation. No more or less wrong than enjoying it, or enjoying watching your lover fuck your
mother in front of you."

"He told you?" Hermione whispered, "I... I can't believe he..."

"Master doesn't tell me anyone's secrets, my love," the Succubus said, gently urging
Hermione back onto her cock, "It was something you said, actually. You occasionally talk in
your sleep, you know? Of course, you didn't say anything too overt, but it made me curious
so I checked Master's memories. Don't worry, Hermione. I don't judge, and Master likes it."

The witch swallowed, then obediently returned to servicing the Succubus with her mouth,
guided by long, clawed fingers. "And for what it's worth, Ginny was thinking about that, too,
according to Master's thoughts. And Ron... well, Ron will give in sooner or later. He's let her
wank him a few times already, and is secretly thrilled that she likes the taste of his semen."

Hermione moaned, "If ith preffy goof,"

"So, my little daddy's girl," the Succubus teased, tightening her grip on the girl's head just
slightly as she sent a half-hearted glare upward, "you should probably get used to the idea of
them together sooner or later, too. Master rewards his friends with what they want, and those
two want each other, even if one is too shy to admit it, yet. And maybe, just maybe, you'll get
to fuck Daddy next time Master has your mother."

The secret shame and thrill of the idea made Hermione shudder, her whole body trembling as
the Succubus began thrusting deep into her well-practiced throat. Visions flashed through
Hermione's head as she climaxed. Her mother's third child, fathered by Harry, the exact same
age as Hermione's first, fathered by Ron. Hannah, filled by Neville in the arse as her swollen
belly carried that wizard's baby, sucking Hermione's transfigured dick herself. Her father lost
in the throes of passion while the child-form of Lilith that Harry favored rode him like the
most experienced porn star.

The delight grew into a second orgasm following instantly on the first, strong enough to send
a rain of her fluid onto the carpet of the suite's common room. "Here's your reward for being
so good, lover," Lilith moaned. A third orgasm hit the girl to coincide with the powerful blast
of semen running down her throat. She didn't remember much after that for some time, but
she did recall the brilliant hot-pink hue of the magic in the Succubus' cum as it blasted up the
visible parts of the Succubus' member.

A few minutes later after she'd recovered, Hermione sat up from the carpet with a groan,
"Okay... let's get, um, back to exploring. The Castle, I mean."

"If that's what you want," Lilith grinned, shifting back into Lyra and waiting at the door for
her to stand back up and adjust her clothing once more.

Glossary:
Magium Sybbilis: Latin for "Magic Sight," or "Mage Sight". It's not the usual fanon version,
but close enough I think most people will be able to figure out how it works. She can literally
see magic in the air, and judge it by color, shape, intensity, movement, etc. etc. As a
knowledge seeker, it's a very, VERY useful power.
 Chapter 44

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Genderswap (Harry to Fem!Harry), including sexuality w/ self and

another male (Ron). It happens one other time after this (several chapters later) and won't
happen again in this story (most likely).

Chap. 44: Conduction in Form

Later that Sunday afternoon, Harry took Ron up to the Room of Requirement again, but for a
different reason.

Once the door to the Room of Hidden Things was safely closed, Harry leaned in and
whispered, "Remember, I didn't do what I'm about to show you. I found it, and 'it' wants to
stay as they are, for now."

The reason for the secrecy, Ron quickly found, was the spunk-covered form of one Mandy
Brocklehurst, now tied not on a table but literally over a barrel. She lay face-up on it still, the
curve of the shape forcing arms and legs back at an odd angle, but she didn't seem in too
much pain.

In fact, she seemed to be experiencing a certain amount of pleasure, as a tall, broad-

shouldered form dressed in the black clothes of a Hogwarts student moved between her bare
legs.

For a moment, Harry considered using the surprise, for they seemed to be undetected, against
the individual raping Mandy. Any punishment dealt would be more than just, Harry felt,
because even from behind he recognized the form of one Gregory Goyle.

While the knowledge solidified his suspicions of who had done the initial kidnapping- it
could only have been Malfoy and his goons- there was more he could do here. He could do
more good, in fact, than just separate Goyle's head from his shoulders, as much fun as that
might be.
No...

"Harry," Ron hissed, "Why aren't we stopping him?"

"Patience," he whispered back, "let's get some more dirt. She isn't complaining, right?"

He ignored Ron's frustrated grumble as he moved forward quietly through the stacks, then
out into the small clearing next to the large black cabinet. There was no sign of Crabbe or
Malfoy. If his plan failed, they would have to resort to violence, so Harry kept his wand in
hand behind his back while he pulled out his cock and rubbed it a few times, then stepped
around to Mandy's front, where her eyes were suddenly glued to him.

"P- Potter?" Goyle gasped, mid-rut, "I- It isn't wha- wha' it looks like!"

Harry raised one eyebrow, glancing down at Goyle's two-inch thick cock, buried all eight or
so into Mandy, "Looks like you found a slut."

Then he pushed into Mandy's mouth, which opened eagerly to take him, and let her lick at his
head while he groped her chest.

"Er... you- you ain't gonna stop me?"

"I don't think so," Harry replied, looking the burly teen in the eyes, "at least, not right now.
Be rude to interrupt her fun, right?"

"Y- Yeah," Goyle said after taking a few seconds to process, "I- I, yeah. Rude."

"Besides," Harry said, looking toward Ron, "my friend and I know what a good slag is like.
We like to shag, too."

"I do like to shag," Goyle grunted, looking down at the helpless, bound girl he was filling,
and starting to move again, "this slag's preddy, an' she feels really good."

"Let her have her fun, then," Harry said with a shrug, "You don't mind if me and Ron join in,
do you?"

"Nah," Goyle said, more quickly, "M'used to sharin' wif- wif some other blokes."

Slowly, still confused, Ron stepped into the clearing too. "Er... Harry?"

"It's fine," he replied, "Mandy wants to be used, doesn't she?"

He pulled out, and she gasped, "Y- Yes," before he filled her mouth again.

Goyle climaxed, filling the girl's pussy, before staggering back. Ron didn't immediately take
his place, so Harry reached down her body to massage her clit in circles, not particularly
caring that she was still oozing Goyle's seed. "Now, Goyle-"

He activated his Eye of Dominance, and did his best to add in Tempting Gaze, though that had
been a bit iffier on control.
Goyle, though, shook, and immediately started growing erect again. "Y- Yeah?"

"This slut likes your cock," he told the large boy, "but we have to set her free soon. If you
want to keep having her after we free her, you have to tell us, and tell the Headmaster, what
Draco is doing up here."

"Draco's fuckin' the slag," Goyle murmured, "I donno what else he's doin'. 'E says he likes to
do it in private."

"Mmm... alright. Well, you can have her mouth, I want the slag's pussy now. Ron, you wanna
take her arse?"

"Er... Harry," Ron hissed, "Isn't this... you know...?"

"Like Romilda?"

Ron nodded reluctantly.

Harry nodded, "A bit. They did it, though, so it's not the same. But right now, she does want
to be used. She wants your dick. You don't have to, of course. But her desire is sincere."

Then he pushed into the hole vacated by Goyle, and started humping the bound girl himself,
reveling in how shallow her hole was compared to most of the girls he'd been with.

Goyle climaxed first, Harry several minutes later, then turned his magical powers against the
other boy again, adding in what he hoped was a correctly cast Confundus Charm, just in case.

Ron did not join in, but before they left the room Goyle was moving over Mandy again.
Harry stopped his friend at the door. "Ron, it's fine that you didn't want to take her like that. I
get it. But this isn't like Romilda. She was kidnapped, and I found her, and she asked me not
to free her. She wants to be a spy for us. I came up here to reward her for the dangerous
work. She does actually like Goyle's shagging. He's the biggest of the three, and she says it at
least gives her some pleasure. But I want her to have real pleasure, so I come up every few
days so it's worth her while. Before you ask, I only found her a week or so ago, and I haven't
told anyone else."

Ron shook his head, wiping his face and adjusting his erection in his robes, "I don't like it,
but I understand why. Alright, I- I won't say anything until you do."

"Okay. If you feel you need to, obviously I won't complain. But try and keep my involvement
out of it, yeah?"

"Of course."

The girls were still gone when the two boys made it back to Harry's quarters.

Their homework was done before Hannah's ritual, and the orgy the next day, which even gave
them the remainder of the day to enjoy each other's friendship without desperately needing to
shag the witches in their lives.
It was over a game of chess, that Harry was losing rather spectacularly (despite his enhanced
mental prowess), that he asked, "So, you kind of like Ginny wanking you, right?"

Ron flushed, but didn't deny it.

Eventually, Harry broke the silence as he made another move, "I think it's really hot, in a
taboo sort of way. Watching her lick your jizz up, too... mmm, mm."

Ron shivered, and reached down to adjust himself again, "Stop it."

"What, talking about your sister?"

"You know what," Ron grumbled.

"Ron."

Slowly, his best mate looked up.

"She wants to suck your dick. She told you that flat-out. If she asks... will you turn her
down?"

"I don't know," Ron admitted quietly, "I... it's dirty and wrong, but... she's really pretty. I can
tell you, I 'noticed Ginny was a girl' before I did Hermione. Walked in on her once, frigging
herself... she never noticed, but I remember it like it was just minutes ago. She was all of
twelve."

"Okay."

"And- and watching her with you, with Neville, or Dean... she's dead sexy."

"I know."

"I don't know, Harry," Ron sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes, "I mean... a part of me
wants to, yeah, sure. But another part... well, she's my sister. I'm supposed to protect her, look
out for her, not... not want to shag her."

Harry blinked, smiling at his friend's visible discomfort, "And do you? Want to shag her?"

Ron swallowed, then nodded once, jerkily.

"Okay. Well... that is a bit weird, I'll admit, but we've done other weird stuff. Let me tell you
what I've been up to."

He stood up, and closed his eyes, and willed...

First, his hair, growing long and thick, wavy like Lavender's but deep black, his own shade,
soft and only slightly curly. His neck grew more slender as his face shifted, and he heard Ron
gulp as his chest started to grow, then his waist grew more narrow.
It took Harry maybe ten minutes to complete the entire transformation, but when he did, he
held out his hands, "I... got what Lilith calls Body Morphology. It's not like being a
Metamorph, not really, but it's close. I need some practice, that's why it was so slow, but... "

"You've- you've been... a girl?"

"A couple of times, yes," Harry murmured, glancing down at his plentiful chest, "the- the
first two, the only, no, wait, three times, it was with Polyjuice Potion. Lavender, then twice
as- as Ginny. This power came out the third time. We think it might've triggered it."

"Wait, you've seen Lavender Brown- our Lavender, Gryffindor Lavender, naked?"

Harry grinned, "And I pleasured myself as her, too, twice. A bunch, really. Then as Ginny."

"Show me," Ron gasped.

Harry smiled, then started walking for his room. "Dobby," he called, "Can I get a floor-length
mirror put in my room?"

The Elf popped in, glanced once with wide eyes at Harry, then nodded, squeaking, "Right
away, Mistress Harry."

While he blushed and Ron laughed, his friend followed him into his room.

The mirror, adorned with gold and silver and very old-fashioned, stood in a corner when
Harry stepped through the door. He stood in front of it, and began to shift again, while Ron
came up behind him, a few paces back and to Harry's left.

Once Harry felt he'd gotten it right, which took about five minutes this time since he didn't
have to change as much, he lifted the hem of his shirt to the bottom of his breasts, and looked
into the mirror at Ron's face, "I'll do this, Ron- but remember, it's me under here. I don't care
if you wank- Lavender's gorgeous- but..."

"Don't worry," Ron said with a grin, "and get on with it, mate. Show me those titties."

Harry rolled his eyes as he obliged, letting his hands fall, feeling strangely shy, to his sides.
"Mm... not quite right. One second."

The breasts pulled up, a bit tighter to his ribs and Harry narrowed the waist a little more too.
"Mm... that's better."

Ron freed his cock while Harry pushed down his now too-large jeans and stepped out of
them, then pulled off his shoes and socks, giving a little twirl. He'd even copied, with some
degree of accuracy, the girl's heart-shaped thatch of hair over her slit.

Ron stared at him, wide-eyed. "Damn... she is fine."

"I know," Harry grinned, "and apparently, she likes it rough. She told me, when she blew me
on the train at the end of last year. Or... no, was that this year...? Yeah, this year, on the way to
Hogwarts."
"Lucky bastard, shagging that fine ass," Ron grunted, working himself faster.

"I didn't, she blew me," Harry reminded him, "but she wanted it hard, and told me if I did...
she wouldn't mind if I 'forced' her. Kind of like with Mandy."

"Have you?" Ron asked.

"Not yet," he replied, staring as Ron sped up again. "Um... you really gonna wank to me?"

"Fuck yeah. Haven't just had a good wank in ages. Kind of missed it, even if I wished I never
had to again a year ago."

Harry grinned, "Well, pull up a chair then. I may's well get myself off, too. It's really good as
a girl."

"Y- Yeah?"

"Feels very different. More intense, but it takes more build-up. You feel it with your whole
body," Harry answered, sitting on the edge of the bed facing Ron and opening his legs, then
after reaching both hands up to cup his heavy, full breasts, gave them a squeeze. "Even the
tits feel good- it's no surprise to me anymore that every one of the girls likes having them
played with."

Ron groaned, staring raptly as Harry started to play with them, tweaking and pulling at his
nipples, strangely amused and aroused at the same time by the show he was giving Ron... and
the show Ron was giving him. "If I had tits, I'd play with them all the time," Ron grunted.

Harry grinned, then leaned down, struck by an idea, to pull one nipple into his mouth and
give it a lick while it was caught between his teeth.

It hurt, pulling his breast like that, but it also felt good, like someone giving them a hard
squeeze, but a thrill of pleasure shot through him all the same. Harry reached down, then,
sliding his open hand against his smooth stomach, and cupped his sex, working his whole
hand around a few times, then spread the petals open with his fingers. "Do you like my pussy,
Ron?" It was a bit weird speaking in Lavender’s voice, but knowing it was himself saying it,
but Harry pushed that aside. It did feel really nice, after all.

"S- hell yeah."

Harry grinned at his friend's growing arousal, and put one foot up on the bed, leaving the
other on the floor, leaning back and to the side on one elbow as he started to rub a bit more.
"It feels good... I love touching myself. It's- it's even kind of hot watching you wank for me,"
Harry admitted, the last part coming out quietly.

"Er... wha?"

"Being a girl," Harry whispered, "with Polyjuice or like- with my powers, makes me feel
their hormones, too. It takes a bit to kick in, but I start to like what girls like. I'm still me, but
I don't feel so icky about... you know, dicks."
"O- Oh. Makes- makes sense, I s'pose," Ron acknowledged.

Harry started rubbing faster, looking down his body, using the hand he was leaning on to grab
at his tits as they swayed. It was starting to feel very good indeed, now.

Ron grunted, shoving off the chair and onto his knees, walking that way across the carpet
until he was just inches from the edge of the bed, watching in detail as Harry continued to
work himself into a frenzy.

Then he came, shooting hot white streams onto the bed, across his friend's waist and stomach,
and one thin string, as he kept wanking, over Harry's left tit.

"Gods," Ron gasped, then jumped up and hurried from the room.

Harry, not quite there, kept rubbing... but the hand supporting himself was freed up, as he lay
back fully, to scoop up the semen on his chest and bring it to his mouth, giving it a tentative
lick.

No, it didn't taste that bad at all, as a girl.

In fact...

He reached down for some more, closing his eyes with pleasure as he climaxed, scooping up
another load and sticking it in his mouth, too.

When the girls, laughing and giggling, returned from their walk, Ron was not in the quarters,
and Harry had showered, masturbating there again as Lavender, before switching back to his
own form and finishing the job once more.

In fact, Ron could barely look at him for several days, and since Lyra was still exhausted
from the magical expenditure of 'powering up' Hermione, Harry's time was filled, mostly,
with either homework, classes, or shagging the Succubus to help restore her energy levels
over the next two and a half weeks.

In his limited private time, Harry continued to transform into a girl and enjoy the new and
unique pleasures that brought. A little more publicly he continued to try and find the time to
shag Hermione, Ginny, and Lyra each at least once a day. Hannah began to join in the group
they had formed more frequently too, and regularly asked for either Harry or Ron to take her
in the ass or mouth while she fucked Neville, or some variation thereof, after homework was
completed that night. The blonde girl didn't seem as interested in spending time with any of
the three girls again, she did allow it when Ginny leaned over her chest or between her legs to
add to her pleasure while one of the boys filled her. While she kept quiet in most
conversations with the group as a whole, like her boyfriend, she started to join in the more
physical side of things with increasing abandon aside from the lower interest in women.

Ron was still being a bit weird when it was just he and Harry around, though, so the dark-
haired boy decided it was time to do a little something about it.
He waited until Wednesday afternoon of the first week in October when the others were still
in classes before he sprang his trap. "Hey, Ron," Harry said, setting down his quill in the
book he had been reading from and tossing the homework over it, "I'm randy."

"Me too," the other boy said with a frown, looking up from his Potions work, "Who did you
have in mind...? Most girls are in school."

"Got one lined up," Harry said with a smirk, casting his eyes toward the closed Dungeon, "in
there."

"R- Really? Wicked, I didn't even see you sneak anyone in. Alright, let's go have some fun,
yeah?"

Harry followed his friend into the room, wand at the ready and aimed squarely at his back,
though he intended no harm.

The ginger blinked, glancing around the room to find it clean and sweet-smelling, for they
had made some effort at cleaning it over the last couple of days. "Er... where's the bird?"

"Stupefy."

Ron was heavy, Harry decided as he caught him half-way down, but all he really needed to
do was guide his friend's fall then levitate him onto the couch. Part of Harry still wasn't sure
he wanted to do this, wasn't sure if he would like it, much less if Ron would be willing, but...

He wanted to try, and there were few people he trusted to do it more than Ronald Weasley.
Even if he had just attacked Ron from behind.

Harry used first his wand then arms to arrange his friend comfortably on the couch, which
this time was still there even a month after he had created it, then entered his bedroom for a
few minutes while he changed form. It was getting easier and easier, but Harry took a few
minutes to do a little more, like put on something borrowed from Hermione without her
knowledge or permission, something a little racy.

It was kind of weird trying to get it to sit right with boobs he wasn't quite accustomed to, but
Harry felt it was worth the work as he admired himself in the newer, larger, unframed and
square mirror mounted on his wall, which was six feet on a side, similar to the one he'd
created down in the Chamber of Secrets. "I look hot," he decided quietly, voice husky and
still a bit unfamiliar but definitely feminine. He had been this version of himself before,
including the night he'd first shown Ron he could change his form and several times since,
but it was still new to him.

Harry steeled his nerves, took one more admiring look in the mirror, and walked into the
Dungeon. Ron was exactly where he'd left him, sitting in the center of the couch. Harry sat
opposite the young man, legs tightly together and feeling even more shy strangely, before he
lifted his wand and incanted, "Enervate."

Ron jolted, blinking, and opened his eyes. As he glanced around to get his bearings, he
skipped over Harry for the moment, then looked back slowly. "I... er, h- who're you? What-
what happened?"

Harry swallowed. "I stunned you," he said quietly, "to get you to sit down and hear me out.
After we've talked, I'll let you do what you want. But we do need to talk."

It took Ron a few seconds to piece things together, but he eventually asked quietly, "H-
Harry?"

"Harriet, if you prefer," he replied, "or you can call me something else. I haven't- haven't
named this form."

"You still have your- your mum's eyes," Ron murmured, unable to help his own, it seemed,
from roving up and down Harry's body, lingering on how his full chest, larger than
Hermione's but not quite as round as Lyra's, filled out the sky-blue corset he wore. The also-
borrowed knickers hid his sparse hair and folds, but little else.

"Thanks," Harry said with a soft smile, "Took me a while to get the change and keep those. I
like them."

"They- they do suit you," Ron said, blushing, and looked away.

Harry sighed, "That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Does it... bother you, me
being a girl?"

To his credit, Ron swallowed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling for several minutes
while he thought about it. Eventually, still looking upward, he replied, "Not really, it.... I
mean, you look good. Really good. It's just... I know you're Harry in there. It's... weird. I
mean, I spun- the other day, I..."

"You came on me?"

Ron nodded.

Harry did, too, "You know I feel like honesty is always best when it comes to things like this,
right?"

Again, his friend nodded.

"I ate it, Ron. Every drop." Ron paled, then turned bright red, but Harry pressed on, "When
I'm like this- a girl- I seem to have... well, a girl's wants, and desires. I'm still me, yes. But... it
changes, too. Only when I'm a girl. I've got no desire to see you wank if I'm a bloke, though it
doesn't bother me to see it anymore, or to touch it if sex is involved, but I'm not about to go
shagging you as a bloke. Does that make any sense?"

After a few minutes again, Ron shrugged, "I guess. And it does make me feel a bit better, but,
um... the implication there is that, well, as a girl, you..."

"That I do?"

Again, a nod.
"That's because I do," Harry admitted. "When I changed into Lavender and realized how
incredible it could be, I didn't do it again for a couple days. Then I did, and your- well, Ginny
showed me she really is as good at eating a pussy as Hermione is at sucking dick. I whited
out, Ron, it was that intense."

"Shit," Ron muttered, looking away again.

"Then the next day, I... I sucked off Lyra. She had her younger form, you know, the one I...
like best, but she had my dick. It was... kind of fun, having that much control over her
pleasure. I see why Hermione likes that, too. And she shagged me while I was Ginny, and she
was herself with my dick. And I loved it. Some of it was 'cause it was Lyra, and she really
knows what she's doing, and some was that it was my dick, and I felt like what Ginny must
feel, but some of it was just... I liked it. Sex feels good for girls, too, if you do it right."

"Okay," Ron muttered, stealing one glance in his direction then looking away again,
"What's... the point of this, though?"

Harry shrugged himself, feeling a but frustrated that Ron didn't seem to get it, "I... I keep
thinking about it. I like being a girl sometimes, I like cumming this way. I like blowing my
load, too, so don't worry I'm switching sides or anything, but this is great, too. And when I
am a girl, I keep thinking- not all the time, but a lot of it- about what it'd feel like, being...
well, with you. Or Neville. Or myself, since Lyra can imitate me just fine."

Ron shook his head, "You're a sick fuck," though there was no heat or venom in the words.

"Maybe," Harry chuckled, the admission had, if anything, helped him relax and adjust to the
idea. "But it doesn't change how I feel about it."

"So... what, then?" Ron asked, "you stunned me, showed me this- not that I'm complaining,
even if it's weird- and for what?"

"I want to suck you off," he eventually whispered, "and if you're willing, to have sex. I want
to see if I enjoy it, and if you do."

"Like... an experimence?"

"Experiment," Harry corrected automatically, "but yes. Something like that."

Ron frowned, "And- and if we don't? If either of us don't like it?"

"Then we stop, and we never talk about it again," Harry said with a laugh, "because that
would be weird."

After a few minutes, Ron nodded. "Al- alright. I can't call you Harry, though, and Harriet is
too close. But since you have pretty eyes, how about Iris?"

"That works," Harry- now Iris- said with a soft smile. "Do I need to get you hard, Ron?"

As Harry stood up, stretching, he saw Ron boggle, then turn pink again. "Er... that probably
won't be hard," he muttered.
"It's supposed to be hard," Harry-as-Iris replied.

"Har, har... Well, get on with it, then."

Maybe he was trying to make sure Harry really wanted to do this, because Ron didn't seem
willing to help. In fact, he spread both arms over the back of the couch as Harry stepped in
cautiously, then used his feet to push Ron's apart a bit, and sink to his knees. I'm... am I really
doing this? Yes... yes, I think I am. Gods, I can't stop thinking about it. At least, if it's gross,
I'll know.

He reached for Ron's zipper, then undid his belt, before unsnapping his trousers. Ron helped
a little, then, lifting his hips and hooking his fingers in the waistband of those and his boxers
enough for Harr- no, for Iris to pull them down to his ankles. H- no, She left them there, and
put a hand on Ron's hairy thigh. Then looked up at him, reminding her friend, "If this makes
you uncomfortable at any time, stop me. I won't complain."

"Y- Yeah, same," Ron murmured, shifting his pelvis out a bit more.

Iris nodded, then looked down.

Flaccid, Ron was about four inches long, as wide as her two smallest fingers. Erect, she
suspected that he was nearly eleven inches long after Lyra's enhancements on him, and a little
bit wider, thicker, but still thin for the length for sure.

He was about half that now as Iris reached out a hand to let his length rest in her soft,
uncaloused and pale hand, him about half-way erect. She was surprised by the heat of him
already, and it quickly swelled as she touched it. A wave of some sort of musky odor washed
over her, and she realized that Ron hadn't bathed since school, and he'd been pent up in his
pants because of classes.

It stank...

And she inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed almost involuntarily.

Ron opened his legs wider, letting his balls hang loose and low, a few shades darker than the
rest of his pale flesh, between his thighs as he finished hardening. "Your hands are cool," he
muttered, "Feels good."

Iris nodded, opening her eyes to see her hand now pressing Ron against his stomach. The boy
pulled up the hem of his shirt then, allowing Iris to run her left hand palm-down along his
length. Oddly, she seemed more dominant there, while Harry was right-handed.

Her hand was exactly half the distance, she decided, as she reached out with her other hand to
gently touch Ron's sack, rolling his testicles between her fingers. He sighed again, staring
avidly at either her hands or, when she glanced up, the ample cleavage she was displaying.
"Can I put it in my mouth?" she asked quietly.

Ron grunted, then nodded, reaching down to angle himself outward from his body.
But Iris pushed his hand away, and lifted her rear from her ankles to lean over him, pushing
out her tongue. Still holding him against his stomach, she darted out, and tasted his testicles.
Ron moaned, shifting slightly in the seat.

They were salty and sweaty, musky and as he- she- had suspected, they were hard and stiff,
swollen, inside a loose, soft covering. They rolled and slid in her hand, too, just like Harry's
did after a hot shower or on a hot day. Without prompting, she sucked one between her lips,
running her tongue across it. Ron gasped, a hand falling, unbidden, into her long, thick hair.

Looking downward, hair framing her face, Iris smiled, and licked the testicle again before
letting it fall with a pop. Then she leaned in again for the other, repeating the motions. Then
she dragged her tongue up his scrotum, to the base of Ron's long dick, and up, up, up the
shaft, pressing it into him at the end with her tongue and chin rather than her hand.

When she pulled back a bit Ron was breathing hard, staring down at her. Iris pushed the hair
from around her face, and murmured, "One second."

She didn't rise, instead just leaning back and twisting her flexible- much more than Harry's-
torso to reach for her wand.

He flinched as she cast, but the spell had been aimed an inch above her own hand. A simple
conjuration, really, a strip of silk.

Iris hurried with clumsy, inexpert fingers to tie the majority of her mass of hair behind her
head with it, then looked up at Ron, was was now rubbing his cock-head with a few fingers,
"So you can see better," she whispered, then leaned in again.

This time, she licked around the outside of his dick, smiling to herself at how it moved and
flexed beneath her strong tongue. Then she swallowed, and leaned in, opening her mouth.

She closed it again when Ron was brushing the top of her palate, but Iris wasn't finished,
even if Ron was sighing and breathing hard again. She pulled herself down, tilting her head
and angling him with a hand wrapped around his base, to push him in...

She had grown accustomed to this, at least a little, with Lilith.

She could do this with Ron.

Unfortunately, by the time Iris first gagged, she was only about a third of the way down his
long penis. So she started to bob quickly, lips locked around the hard length, hands both
pumping the lower two-thirds.

While blowing him, Iris decided that yes, she did like sucking Ron's cock, and probably
Lilith's, too, but that Harry definitely did not, because a part of him was recoiling inside at the
idea. Yet that part only seemed to drive Iris harder, to encourage her to take more, more of
him.

Time passed in a blur as her head rose and fell, Ron eventually bringing both hands up to
gently guide her movements, as Iris grew more and more hungry, empty with need and
desire.

"Cu-Cumming," Ron grunted.

Even with the warning, the force of it caught Iris by surprise but she kept going anyway,
pumping with one hand and bobbing on the top third while the increasingly familiar, hot seed
shot into her mouth in seven long, powerful bursts.

When he was done, Iris realized her eyes were closed, and that she was grinning around
Ron's cock. Slowly, she pulled free, looking up at him, then opened her mouth to reveal it
half-full. Then she closed it and swallowed, the smile returning full-force.

He tasted, she thought, salty and bitter, but more like a cracker with salami on it than
anything else. Not too bad, but not delicious, either. Yet... She was still full, as if she'd eaten a
delicious meal again. Great, I really can eat either kind of cum. Still don't think I'll do this as
Harry, though. "Did you like that, Ron?"

He sighed, still stroking himself slowly, "Shit, Har- I- Iris, you know I did. That was brilliant.
You're... surprisingly good at it."

Iris shrugged, "I know what feels good."

Ron nodded, "Makes sense. So... I mean... how does this... change things?"

Harry-Iris sat back on her haunches thoughtfully. "I... it doesn't have to change anything. But
if you want something new sometimes, you can ask me. I won't always say yes. And I'm not
going to do it as a bloke, even if you begged."

"No worries there, mate," Ron muttered darkly, "but... what about this?"

Iris looked down, smiling, "If we had time, I'd shag you now. Save it for special occasions
otherwise, maybe."

Ron glanced at his watch and frowned, "I... there's like, ten minutes until the girls will be
here before dinner."

Iris paused, blinking. "You know what? I'm going to show them all soon anyway. You want
ro fuck, Ron? Technically, this form's a virgin... sort of. I even have a hymen again."

He had, after all, checked.

Ron swallowed, eyes raking her body hungrily as Iris stood up. "Er... you know what? I think
I do. How- how d'you want me to do it?"

Iris smiled softly, "I think I want you to take charge. You tell me."

Ron grinned, still looking a bit embarrassed to be excited about the whole situation, "Alright.
Then... take that ridiculously sexy thing off. I wanna see your girl-tits."
Iris reached behind her for the straps, pulling them free as she stood up. The lingerie was
designed to come free quickly, and it pooled around her hips before she gave a little wiggle
and pushed them down again. Ron was already staring at her, stroking his still saliva-slick
cock. "You can touch me, Ron," she whispered, giving both of them a heft before brushing
her thumbs across either nipple, "taste me. Take me."

The wizard in question, though, stopped stroking, giving Iris a very measuring gaze. "Same-
same rules? If it's weird or uncomfortable...?"

Iris nodded.

"Come- c'mere, then," Ron instructed, reaching out his hands to rest them on Iris' hips,
pulling her closer, until she had to step up onto the couch with her knees straddling his waist.

She shivered as his big, calloused hands slid up and inward across her belly, then to the heavy
globes on her chest and sighed as he brushed over them, trying hard to hold each one in his
hands. She found herself leaning into his touch with another sigh.

"Can't get my hands around 'em," Ron murmured, thumbing her nipples himself as Iris slid
one hand up his arm, the other down her belly to rest between her legs, moving in tiny
circles. "And yer nips are really hard."

"I'm really turned on," Iris whispered, unable to hide her blush, "You feel really- really g-
good."

Ron smiled up at her, just an inch or so above his head as she straddled his lap, "You look
really good. Your tits might even be better than Lilith's- more natural looking. I want to..."

He stopped talking, tilting his head in to pull one of her nipples into his mouth, and Iris let
out a soft moan of relief. She hadn't realized how tense she was until it started to fade under
his tongue and lips as they worked her breast, one hand on the other, while his other limb
circled her waist and pulled her against him. She could feel his rod harder, hotter, against her
core as she moved in, and sighed as she felt its tip against her belly-button.

She let Ron play for a couple of minutes, reveling in how he was making her feel, how her
depths burned with heat, feeling his member throb against her body, and the small, subtle
sounds of pleasure he was making as she started to grind against him, vibrating on her tits.
Then she pulled back, and Ron froze, looking scared. "S- Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Relax," Iris whispered, rising to her feet once more to push her knickers, thin silk of the
same color as her corset, down around her ankles and stepped out with one leg, leaving the
other on. Then she climbed back up onto the couch, half-standing, and put her arms on either
side of Ron's head. "Taste me...?"

Ron swallowed, looking shocked at his good fortune now, and brought both hands up the
back of Iris' thighs to cup her rather small, boyish ass and pull her in a bit as he took a deep
sniff, "You smell like strawberries," he murmured.
Then she gasped and shuddered again, crying out as his tongue slithered up her channel from
the bottom, grazing over the entrance of her vagina and urethra both, and flicking against the
underside of her clitoris. "Oh, God," she cried, and pushed herself even further toward him,
"Don't- don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it," Ron replied, and starting licking faster. Iris heard whimpering, a
distracting sound, and realized only after several seconds as he delved around her nearly
hairless groin that it was her making the noises.

But she couldn't stop. It felt divine, almost as good as Ginny doing the deed had been, but
with the added spice of it being a male she was attracted to as a female, one who she wanted
inside her, and right now.

"Fuck me," she gasped, pulling away from his mouth, and sitting down again.

She fumbled on his cock, unable to make her hand work as she wanted, but Ron came to her
rescue, taking hold of his base. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

Iris nodded, "Yes, please."

He gave her a solemn look, then pushed himself out, rubbing his tip along her clit and
bending as he moved around her pelvis. With a slight pop, he was in her, just the head, and
Iris gasped, feeling the want, the desperate need, double. She couldn't help it. Knowing it
would hurt, knowing that Harry really didn't want to do this, didn't want her to do this, Iris
cast caution to the wind and dropped, all ten inches she could get at this angle.

Harry was used to pain.

Iris, not so much.

She cried out, instinctively clutching Ron close with both arms around his neck, desperate for
some sort of comfort, to have a trusted friend close right then, even as she knew he was the
one hurting her. But it had been her choice, and she didn't regret it, even if it hurt so much.

Dimly, she knew that the pain would've been negligible to Harry. He'd felt far worse. But Iris,
she had already concluded, was not Harry.

Now she knew for sure, because while her inner self, the previous self, the one she'd been
born as, recoiled at her stupidity, Iris, the person she was right now, ached in terrible pain,
and wanted more.

More of Ron, more of his delicious dick, more intimacy, more sex, more pleasure, maybe
even a bit more pain, just not in her cunt right now, thanks, if at all possible. She had plenty
to be going on with.

"Sorry," Ron whispered, hands tenderly reaching around her to pull her into the hug she
desperately needed, "I didn't expect... well, I didn't think it'd hurt that much."

"It doesn't," Iris whimpered, "I'm apparently a wuss as a girl."

Both jumped when Lyra's tender voice murmured from behind the couch, "Well, you haven't
spent long as a girl, Master. Your nerves are new, so you're more sensitive to both pleasure
and pain."

Ron looked up over her shoulder, but Iris kept her head down, buried in his neck, as three sets
of feet moved quietly into the room.

"Er... it's not- not what it looks like," he stammered.

Ginny chuckled, "Doesn't look like you're shagging Harry as a girl?"

"Er, n- no," Ron muttered, "That's... that's obvious. It's just... I didn't mean to-"

"To shag someone behind my back?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Er, well..."

Lyra snorted, "You two are being mean. Can't you see Master is hurting?"

"We know he is," Ginny replied, "We're trying to distract him with humor."

"I'm not Harry," Iris said quietly, half-whimpering, "I'm Iris."

She was grateful that the girls seemed to drop it, because while she was very embarrassed at
being caught out (mostly, she felt, due to Harry's influence on her), and she hurt in ways she
couldn't have imagined, she also wanted, needed, to move. To ride Ron furiously, to feel him
ejaculate inside her, to...

Something.

Anything.

Seeming to sense that somehow, Lyra murmured, "Alright, ladies, let's leave them to it for a
bit. We can entertain each other for a while."

"Or we can work on homework, since no one's dying," Hermione reminded them.

"Or we could do that," Ginny grumbled.

A few seconds later, the footsteps had withdrawn, and the door closed quietly again.

"Sorry," Ron whispered, "you- you okay?"

Iris shook her head, but ground her hips against his pelvis, sending a shockwave of pleasure
through her that served in part to drown out the pain that had already begun to recede. "Not
okay... need you," she whispered, giving her hips another twist and grind.

"Does it... still hurt?"

She nodded, murmuring, "Don't care," and pulled away from him to show that she had tears
in her eyes though her cheeks were yet dry, and ran a hand down her body to put two fingers
alongside his cock. They came up bloody as she showed him. "Told you I was a virgin."

"I didn't think you were lyin'," Ron replied softly, "I... still sorry it hurt."

"I'm not," Iris whispered, pushing herself painfully up, up, as he scraped along her tender
channel, feeling his head, wider than the rest, poignantly. Then another, stronger spike as he
hit what was left of her hymen. She whimpered again, but kept going until he was nearly out,
then lowered down again slowly.

"Gods," Ron sighed, throwing his head back and putting his hands on her rear, "you're so
tight. Feels fuckin' amazing."

Iris sighed and smiled. "I'm... glad, Ron. I want you to feel good in me."

Truth be told, she wasn't hurting as badly anymore, either. "It's better," she told him,
"starting... to feel good again. I..."

She lifted again in an appraising stroke all the way back up to the top, then back down. There
was still a tender soreness throughout and a worse pain as he moved past the wound, but...

"No, that's not too bad," she whispered again, and started moving faster.

"You're incredible," Ron sighed, then pushed forward so he could suckle her tits again and
gave both of her bum cheeks a strong squeeze that made her yelp.

Iris started moving faster as the pain allowed, and quickly found it more bearable as her
lubrication increased, either from her body's natural production or what she felt had to be
copious amounts of blood, because she was just so full, and feeling his hot length add to her
own heat wasn't so much painful anymore as mildly annoying, but that was nothing
compared to her need to be full, to be one, to...

Her body seized momentarily, and another rush of pleasure, minor but definitely there, pulsed
through her. When she stopped moving Ron started, pushing up into her gently the best he
could since he was beneath her on the couch. Iris let him keep control as she recovered, aside
from adding the occasional forward and back grind or circular twist, both of which seemed to
drive Ron wild as they did her, "I came," she whispered, looking deep into his tense-looking
face, "I was a virgin, and I came with your cock in me. I must be a slag, Ron..."

The ginger's face twisted, "I... I'm gonna cum soon, too."

"Do it," she whispered, suddenly desperate to feel it, to feel him erupt in her, and threw her
body against his, her hips shaking frantically as his rod plumbed just a little deeper into her,
"Cum in me, please!"

Ron seemed unable to stop it, and yanked down with his hands on her ass as he pushed up,
lifting both off the couch. She squealed in surprise as he did, her body hanging over his, and
then again as she felt him spurt. Iris could feel every blast in her hyper-sensitive body, could
feel him as every pulse of semen flew up his shaft and out into her channel.

Slowly, he settled back onto the couch, panting.

Eventually, while he was still hard and she still wanted more, Iris found herself climbing off
Ron and settling between his legs again.

There wasn't as much blood as she'd feared. More white, in fact, with only hints of pink
now... she leaned in, took up Ron by the base, and started cleaning him with her tongue.

He groaned and sighed again.

She didn't want to deny him, though. Maybe it was ingrained from Lilith cleaning Harry so
often, but both Hermione and Ginny had started doing the same most times, regardless of
who had filled them, and Iris felt it was only proper.

It only took a few minutes until she had all the cum and blood mixture in her mouth or
moving down her throat, feeling both cool and warm at the same time, slimy, yet not
unpleasant. But when Iris pulled away, Ron put a hand in her hair, "Don't- don't stop. Merlin,
Iris, don't stop."

She looked up at him, feeling strangely shy, "Er... Ron, do you want me to suck your dick
again?"

"Please, yes," he murmured, "You're- you're really good at it."

Iris debated telling him no, because Harry was growing increasingly frantic to be himself
again, but... she had enjoyed it.

Enjoyed having him in her, both times (and almost a third).

Maybe she didn't owe him precisely, because he'd clearly had his pleasure from her, but...

"Okay, Ron. Tell me what you want."

"Er..."

"Tell me," she whispered softly, looking up at him, "tell me what you want me to do."

"Suck- suck my cock, Iris," he muttered, blushing.

"Okay."

And she did.

Much of the strangeness had faded by the time she took him in her mouth again, some
residue of his earlier climax and her own strawberry flavor still on him as she started bobbing
quickly. She wanted more and soon, for she tasted sweet and he salty. It was a delicious
combination to her, even with the tang of iron.

Then she grinned around him, and reached between her legs, pushing two fingers inside...

It still hurt, but not that badly, and she pulled away with a pair of fingers-full of the same
mixture. She smirked, looking up at Ron, then wiped it all over the top of his shaft, and
started sucking again while her hands got back to work on the lower side.

"Oh, shite, that's hot," Ron gasped while she was doing so, "kinky as fuck, too."

"I'm a naughty slag," Iris told him briefly, and started pumping harder, faster.

It only took about two minutes, he was so riled up, but eventually Ron's hand tightened
against her head and pulled her down, further than she could manage, so that Iris coughed as
his cum hit the back of her throat.

She tried to pull back, but he was too strong, helpless to resist as he climaxed, even as her
hands fisted and struck his thighs, and...

It was over.

"Too deep," she whimpered after pulling him out of her mouth, and wiping her lips with the
palm of her hand, then smacked her lips.

"Sorry," Ron replied, seeming genuinely apologetic, "I... I couldn't help it."

Iris shook her head, "Still. Er... we should probably go... talk to the others."

"Y- Yeah. I... thanks."

Iris paused, half-risen with her hands on the negligee and her knickers, to look over at him,
"Thank you, Ron. I'm glad it was you."
 Mutual Acceptance, Mutual Satisfaction
Chapter Summary

Trigger Warnings:
More Genderswap, including some Fem!Harry x Ron (in a group this time, iirc).
There isn't too much more of that in future, but it does happen one more time after this.
You COULD just skip it- it should be obvious when it happens. There's still some
character development and growth, but nothing too major. Mostly this one's just people
being randy.
Oh, and 'family fun'. As in Ron and Ginny. It's not all the way, though... Still, if that
squicks you, feel free to skip it.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 45: Mutual Acceptance, Mutual Satisfaction

They found the girls working on homework as usual on an evening following dinner. In the
lead as they entered, Ron was red-faced but gamely sat in one of the three armchairs loosely
facing the couch where Lyra, Hermione, and Ginny all sat from left to right on their side.

Iris glanced his way for support, but found him looking pensively at Hermione instead, so she
sighed and moved to take one of the other chairs. She didn't know what to say, though. The
girl knew what she wanted to say, but how to say it was... difficult.

Explaining things to Ron had been easier, in some way. Bloke to bloke, even if she was a girl,
because of his close friendship with Harry. Lyra, too, would understand, because she always
did, and likely had seen more perverse things.

Ginny, maybe. She, at least, had known Harry enjoyed being a girl on a few occasions.
But how would Hermione, who so enjoyed things 'proper' (despite her growing lust and
addiction to sex) take this new development?

Her mind raced for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only ten minutes or so
before the brunette looked up at her, then slowly set down her quill. "Alright, I'm listening,
Harry."

She shook her head again, "Iris."

Hermione frowned, "I'm sorry?"

"This, me," the girl said, gesturing at her body vaguely, "is Iris. Harry is... in there, in my
head, somewhere. I can feel him, hear him, but this... me, I s'pose, is not him. I'm Iris."

"I highly doubt you developed a split personality simply because you changed form, Harry.
Or Iris."

She shook her head, feeling growing frustration. She knew what she was, but articulating it
was proving difficult, and...

"I think what Master is trying to say," Lyra interjected quietly, "is that to help him or her cope
with the hormone differences, s/he is partitioning their mind, building another persona, as a
deliberate act to separate male-Harry from female-Iris. In effect, keeping said split
personality from forming, but still allowing them to experience new thoughts, feelings, and
emotions without conflicting overly much with their old ones."

Iris found herself nodding vigorously. "Yes, that's- that's it exactly. How did...?"

"I feel you, remember, Master?" Lyra replied with a casual shrug, "With a moment's effort, I
know your emotional state as long as we're within a few thousand meters. Maybe at a few
miles it would take a few seconds to reach you, but our bond is very strong."

Ginny looked up, "So... you've been me, and now... you? Iris, I guess? Is this... are you...
staying?"

The witch in question blinked. "I... I hadn't thought about it much," she confessed. "I don't... I
know I'm still... Harry, inside. This isn't my body. But it's... ours, in a way? Now that I'm here,
I don't want to go away. Not forever. And Harry doesn't want me to, either. I..."

She blinked, and began to focus.

Her features melted away, and most of his friends looked on with some apprehension as the
very male Harry James Potter appeared, wearing the same blue negligee. "I, uh, I'll be right
back," he muttered, mightily embarrassed, and stood to hurry into his room.

Ron was still chortling when he came back out, dressed in his better-fitting pyjamas
purchased that summer while being escorted by 'Lilian', but he quickly quieted when Harry
said, "Hey, you shagged me, so I wouldn't go laughing, mate."
Harry shook his head at his friend's own blush, then took the same chair as Iris had, running a
hand over a slightly stubbly chin. "Iris... Iris is staying. She wasn't wrong, I... I like her. I feel
almost like she's a part of me, a part that could have been me, if I were... you know, born a
girl. But I'm still Harry, and I always will be. I don't know if that- answers your questions. It's
the best I've got though."

Ginny nodded, then looked back down at her Astronomy essay, and said, "Okay. Well, I won't
say no if she comes out to play, but I do like Harry more."

Harry looked next to Lyra, who simply made a kissing face, puckering her lips at him, then
winked.

He looked to Hermione last. Hermione who was looking at him appraisingly, saying nothing.
Next back to Ron, who was still red-faced. He shrugged and looked toward Hermione as
well.

She continued looking at Harry and Ron quietly for several minutes, eyes moving back and
forth between them, then shrugged, sighing resignedly. "I suppose you can't take it back, and
it's... just another adjustment. One of many, it seems. I can't even really complain, as I've
obviously been with you both, it's just... new."

"It's new for me, too," Harry reminded her, "I've only spent... about five and a half hours as a
girl, in any body."

The bookworm nodded, then looked back down and focused on her essay again. When
Hermione, who wrote fastest but also wrote more in her own homework by orders of
magnitude beyond what the others did, finished, she stretched and stood up, casting an eye
about the room. "Well... I'm beat, but I need a shag before bed. Um... Could we use your bed,
Harry? I... don't want to be alone tonight."

"All of us?" he asked, glancing about the room.

She nodded, "Yes, I..."

Ron shrugged, "I don't mind. Be a bit crowded, but we can get comfortable."

Ginny nodded, "Be cozy."

Several eyes turned to Lyra, who looked back at them, confused. "What? Why are you asking
me? You know I'm fine with it. Let's go."

Harry was the first one into his room, and the first undressed. It would not, however, be the
final 'first' of the night. Not for any of them.

When he turned around, the others were watching him in various states of undress. "Wh-
what?"

Ginny, still watching him, leaned over and whispered something to Lyra, who giggled, then
repeated it to Hermione. In turn, she turned scarlet, then nodded slowly and whispered
something back.
Ron rolled his eyes and finished undressing, no longer seeming to care that his sister was in
the room still, and headed toward the bed.

"Let's see Iris," Hermione said, giggling, "I want to... see her."

Harry blushed, looking toward Ginny who was grinning widely and nodding.

"Fine," he huffed, and spent the several seconds necessary to change back, this time
undressing as he did so. After about thirty seconds, she stood up tall at just under Hermione's
height, with her thick, wavy black hair falling to just above her bum, and her heavy, round tits
sticking out quite as much as Lyra's did.

It was uncomfortable being stared at, but knowing that the girls he loved and his best friend,
were ogling her in such a way sent an thrill of excitement through h- her, her, too.

Ginny, forward as always, stalked toward her, leering possessively, before she pushed Iris
back onto the bed where she fell across the lower half just below Ron's feet then climbed up
over her, resting her small, soft hands on Iris' chest and grinding her pelvis against the older-
younger? Well, dark-haired witch's own. "Fucking sexy," she murmured down at Iris, "Isn't
she, Lyra?"

"Master does have good taste in women," the Succubus agreed, giving Hermione a nudge.
"Go on, lover... your boyfriend needs you. Unless I get to play with his lovely cock first?"

Hermione, staring at Iris, gave a little jerk as she was touched, then stammered, "No, n- no,
I'll... I'll do it."

Ginny began kissing her way down Iris' body, much as she'd done with Harry's imitation of
her own a couple days earlier. Then she pulled both of her tight, puckered nipples up from the
other girl's ribs a couple of inches before letting them pop and moving down to circle her
tongue through the girl's navel, then down, down...

Iris gasped as Ginny started eating her out, then grinned lustily as Lyra joined in, straddling
her face, "Does Master want a taste?"

Iris was soon lost in bliss, panting in ragged breaths as she did her best (and failed twice) to
bring Lyra to climax before Ginny did with her own much more sensitive pussy, and
Hermione rode Ron to what sounded like a very satisfying mutual orgasm, then sucked him
for about ten minutes before climbing off. Then the brunette had tugged Lyra away to watch
Ron shag her doggy-style over Hermione's body while she licked at Ron's balls and cock
from below, alternating with Lyra's sopping slit while the Succubus ate her out in turn.

She still wanted more, though, and almost unconsciously Iris’s nether regions swelled and
bulged. Ginny paused in her ministrations for a moment to watch as a familiar penis
sprouted, already hard, from just above Iris’s clit. “Mmm… Iris and Harry together? This’ll
be… fun.” She resumed her sixty-nine eagerly, now intent on giving her all to get Iris’s new,
larger cock down her tight throat while the redhead worked two fingers inside her mistress
and buzzed her lips over her clitoris, too.
When they switched again, Ginny and Lyra crossed one leg and started grinding their cunts
together furiously while Iris, now on her hands and knees beside them was given the treat of
cleaning Ron's spunk out of Hermione's hole while he climbed up and slid inside her own
deep channel again, using his hands on her waist to guide her back onto him.

Then she and Hermione got to clean her own juices off Ron's long pole together, licking and
worshiping his flesh before...

Iris gasped as something huge, massive, pushed into her from behind, making her cry out and
gag on Ron's cock.

She looked down between her swinging tits, to see Lyra's legs, and...

A look over her shoulder past the thick raven hair revealed Lilith, the young form she hadn't
been in for several days now, how she'd first appeared, spearing into her with his own heavy,
thick shaft, "Oh, Merlin," Iris gasped, "Harry's dick is... is..."

"Amazing," Ginny supplied, reaching under Iris to cup her tits and give one a squeeze, "I
love it, and you look so beautiful right now, Iris."

And she felt wonderful. So hot and wet, yes, but also desired, loved. To have two shafts
filling her on either end, friends she loved so deeply on either side, sharing this with her,
loving her...

She came as Lilith did, Ron following moments later to splatter against both her and
Hermione's faces.

More pleasure, more lust, more love...

The next aware moment Iris had was watching Hermione's face as Ginny licked and fingered
her while Ron's long shaft sank deeper and deeper into the childlike pussy of not just Lilith as
Harry had first met her, but the younger, smaller form that she said Dean liked, the one that
looked no older than twelve.

The bookworm looked a bit queasy, as did Ron, but the boy's face quickly transformed to
pleasure as he felt that oh-so-tight hole embrace him. Iris wanted more, though...

It took some concentration, and she failed twice, but soon Harry's cock sprang from her own
loins again, rising up from what had been her clitoral hood with the pearl now sprouting from
her base and the folds below that as it separated inside her.

Then, while Lilith writhed under Ron's onslaught, Iris pushed her cock between the
Succubus' tiny lips and started humping her face roughly. The Succubus coughed, but didn't
object. Iris watched Ron's face as he realized what she was doing, and found him more
aroused rather than less, as he sped up, "Fuck 'er," he muttered, eyes glazed with lust, "fuck
the slag's face, Iris."

When Ginny left Hermione panting, fighting to catch her breath, the red-head leaned low
over Lilith, then looked up seriously at Ron and Hermione. "You'll never- never really be
with anyone this young, right? That's..."

"Nah," Ron muttered, "but this, Lyra's- Lilith- is... wow. So... ugh, so tight!"

Ginny nodded, then reached out to stroke Lilith's taut belly, moving up to her tender, barely-
there bee-sting tits, then put a hand over her throat, which bulged and pulsed with Harry's
cock. To Iris' surprise, she was joined on the other side by Hermione, who actually reached
down to suckle one of the miniscule nipples, then rub her own much more massive teat
against it.

Then Iris found herself being ridden by Hermione with Ron behind her, both rutting wildly as
Hermione tried to maul Iris' mouth with her own, mashing both their breasts together so they
bulged out on either side of their bodies, and Ginny practiced her oral skills on another
version of Lyra's cocks, this one suspiciously long and thin.

Ginny opened her legs for Iris next, gasping as she was filled, with Hermione again back over
her mouth, and Ron standing next to them on the bed, moving his cock back and forth
between the bookworm and the shapeshifting witch. Lyra moved behind Iris, pumping into
her even as she filled Ginny.

She didn't know what time it was when Hermione crawled away from them, muttered,
"Sleep," and passed out over the pillows. The whole evening was becoming a blur of lust and
satisfaction, climaxes blending together into a maddening mixture of everything Iris felt she
ever wanted.

Her form, at some point, turned back into Harry's, and that persona took back over, moving
over and into the child-form of Lilith while something else of import happened just a little to
Harry's right.

Ron, gasping for breath but still rock-hard, knelt, leaned back but upright on his knees as
Ginny crawled toward him with the same look of passion in her eyes she wore when she
looked at Harry, and took him in her mouth. "G- Gin," he gasped, resting his hands on her
mussed, sweaty hair.

But he didn't push her away this time.

Ginny pushed all the way down, coughing twice, but got his whole eleven inches into her
throat before pulling back. She wrapped two fingers around his base, and looked up her
brother's muscular chest. Then she whispered, as he looked down at her, "I like your cock,
Ron. It's sexy."

Then she pulled away and rolled onto her back, still looking up at him and pumping slowly
with her left hand. The other ran down her body between her breasts to pull apart her petals.
"Am I sexy, Ron?"

Harry, watching raptly, pumped another load into the Succubus' pussy and kept rutting. He
wanted more, still... at least two more orgasms. More.

Ron slowly nodded. "Yeah. Y- you're really sexy, Gin."

"Am I dirty? I sucked my brother's dick, and I liked it."

"R- Really dirty," Ron groaned, and started pumping, staring down at her.

"D'you- want to touch me?"

He nodded.

"I'm dirty," Ginny whispered, "and I want you to touch my dirty places, Ron. The places
Mum said we shouldn't play with."

He reached out a hand, and cupped her sex. Ginny sighed into him, then lifted her hips to
grind into his palm as he pushed a thumb into her depths. Harry, wanting a better view, pulled
free of Lilith to move to the side onto his knees, then yank her onto his lap, spearing the
Succubus up past her ribcage, both now facing the siblings. Ron groaned as Ginny sighed in
pleasure, one hand moving to pinch her nipples in turn, the other coming down to cover his.
"That feels so good, Ron... you're making we so wet... D'you feel it? Feel how wet you're
making me?"

Ron swallowed, but didn't answer.

Instead, he took on a determined countenance, and knee-walked back a bit, keeping his hand
on Ginny's cunt, then put his face between her legs and pushed out with his tongue while
slowly uncovering her.

"Master," Lilith cried out as she bounced on him, "Ron's eating his sister's dirty, naughty
cunt! Isn't it hot?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "Finger-fuck her, Ron."

Then he took Lilith by the waist and started lifting the tiny body up and down until he was
just buried tip-deep, then slamming her all the way onto his shaft, using her like a cock-
sleeve. The pressure on his own member was exquisite, the tiny body's folds holding him
with far more force than usual, yet Lilith was slick enough that it still felt amazing as she
engulfed him in a way no child her size could actually do without mortal harm.

Ginny burst, gushing upward into Ron's mouth, covering his fingers and chin in her juices,
and Harry filled Lilith a moment later. Ron kept mouthing his sister until she pushed him
away, gasping. Ginny, though, immediately pounced on him as he sat on his haunches,
pulling his cock between her lips again. "Owe," she said, going as deep as she could, then
pulling off, "you," and again, "an," again, "orgasm." She kept speaking, punctuating each
word with a deep-throat as far down her brother's eleven inches as she could manage, "gonna
make you cum in my mouth, gonna love it, love the taste, love your cock, love Harry's cock,
love cock, love co-!"

The last word was cut off as Ron shoved his member into his sister's face as hard as he could,
blasting out with a clear climax as he roared her name, hands clutching her head to his pelvis.
Harry continued to pull the tight pussy of the Succubus down onto him while Ron gingerly
flopped onto his back spread-eagled, one arm draped over Hermione's slender waist and
panting desperately. His hips jerked spasmodically into Ginny's face as she very slowly, lips
sealed tightly around his cock, pulled free. She separated with a very loud popping sound,
then opened her mouth to show Ron, then looked over her shoulder at the two shagging
nearby.

Ron had unleashed an incredible load, and even though most had doubtless gone straight
down his sister's throat, Ginny still held at least a quarter-cup of his semen in her mouth.
Then she closed her lips, swished it around, and swallowed the lot before lowering herself,
grinning stupidly, to the wrinkled, disheveled bedspread. "So tasty..."

Harry enjoyed his final climax of the night while he watched the very sated siblings drift
quickly (though with good reason) to sleep, then lay down with child-Lilith still on him and
joined them.
 Slyther-In Shadows

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Of course there's also my DISCORD, here, https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw which has all

kinds of fun goodies too. ;) One of the fun things you can find there is a link to a place where
this very same story you're enjoying (I hope) and reading (it's not a short one...) is posted up
past CHAPTER 85. So there is definitely more coming, but if you don't want to wait, check
that link out. :)

Finally, I am in need of 1-3 BETA EDITORS for this and other stories due to life
circumstances removing my previous ones basically all at once for their own reasons. I can
and will keep posting, but the quality WILL drop if I don't have an editor or three soon. PM
me, leave a comment, or whatever else you need to do to get a hold of me. No experience
necessary, and it's not nearly as hard as I think people feel like it is. It's literally just reading
and making a note or suggestion when you spot something that isn't right.

Chap. 46: Slyther-In Shadows

That Saturday, nothing was planned as far as rituals or power-boosting went, so the group,
including Hannah spent most of the day on the grounds. In pairs or groups of three, they
walked the circuit around the lake twice, some of them three times with breaks for shagging
out of sight of the castle, or circled around their favorite shade-tree, enjoying the last of the
good weather for the year. The evening was spent in the Gryffindor Common Room,
socializing in the way most teens would.

Again, Harry took note that nearly everyone was doing something sexual, from light grazes
of their own skin (or a neighbor's) to...

Yes, those two were definitely shagging underneath the blankets, but otherwise in full view.

But no one seemed to pay much mind to the copulation aside from one first-year boy who
was adjusting himself in his trousers as he stared, the attractive seventh-year looking right
back at him over her lover's shoulder while she rose and fell.

Sunday, though, was a bit different. There was still plenty of sex to be had since their
homework was completely finished and there was nothing better to do by two in the
afternoon, which is when the knock on the door came.
As usual Harry answered it after glancing back to see that Ron and Ginny were engaged in a
game of chess, while Lyra and Hermione were talking about some esoteric bit of Lilith's
version of history. More importantly, everyone including himself was dressed. People might
be getting significantly more open about sexuality and even wore more risque clothing, but
Harry didn't want to be the one called out for opening the door to a teacher or the Headmaster
when students were shagging in his common room. Discretion was important, after all.

The girl in the hall was not a teacher, though.

Even while searching for the appropriate greeting, Harry couldn't help but rake his eyes over
her. She wasn't stunningly gorgeous by any means, but the girl's olive skin and sharp features
were definitely exotic and attractive. Moreso, he knew them well. "H- Hi, Pansy. What can I
do for you?"

The Slytherin girl's skin darkened slightly as she stood on her toes to glance over his
shoulder, then looked up and down the mostly empty hallway. "Can... may I come in? I'd like
to talk."

"Absolutely," he replied, stepping aside and gesturing her inside.

The others looked up as she did, Ron giving her a measured look as he had with Daphne,
Tracey, and Astoria when they had visited. Hermione's eyes narrowed at once, but after
visibly shaking herself, the bookish girl seemed to master her emotions, or at least put on a
relaxed front. "Parkinson," she greeted with a nod.

"Er, H- hello, everyone," Pansy said quietly, much of her usual bravado and confidence gone,
"I... hi."

"No one's going to attack you, you can relax," Harry told her, "did you want to talk in private,
or out here?"

The girl flushed again, then leaned to the side, keeping an eye on his friends, and covered her
mouth with a hand while she whispered, "B- Both? I... I'm feeling, well, the same... urges, but
I don't mind talking, too. I'd..."

Images flashed through Harry's mind unbidden. Not just of the times he'd shagged Pansy
though they were definitely included, but visions of a possible future, too. The same girl,
pregnant with a child he knew he was his, pumping Neville's cock with her hand while she
licked at Hermione's now hairless cunt. Children, running around a picnic table in an
expansive garden, many girls around him and his closest friends.

Within two seconds of her statement trailing off, Harry knew very much that he wanted, even
needed that scenario to occur.

And there was only one way he could see to reach it.

The rifts had to heal.

"Hermione, now would be a good time to apologize for everything. Pansy, you too."
Ginny's eyes widened as she looked between her best friend and said friend's worst
tormentor. Hermione, though, took a deep breath, her face growing deep scarlet. "You're...
right, Harry. Parkinson, I-"

"You can call me Pansy," the newcomer said softly, "if- if I can call you Hermione."

Hermione sighed, then gave a tiny nod in Harry's direction before looking directly at Pansy.
"I... It might take me some time to adjust, Par-Pansy, but I'll... try. I don't know if I can let
everything that's happened between us go, but I'll try. And Harry's right. I do owe you several
apologies."

Pansy stood beside Harry, ram-rod stiff, while Hermione listed off a dozen or more slights,
rude comments, and outright insults she had said or done to the Slytherin. She finished with,
"-And I'm sure there's more I've forgotten. So, I... I'm sorry. I was young and stupid. I know
that's not an excuse. I should've taken my own advice, and... Well, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I
hope I won't do so again."

Pansy was quiet for a minute, then shocked everyone by giving a proper curtsy to the
muggle-born witch. When she stood it was tall and straight again, but something about her
posture was different to Harry. No less refined or poised, but... more vulnerable maybe, or
open. "I am also... very sorry, Hermione. I... I don't believe we have enough time in the day
for me to list off all the ways I've wronged you. But I'm truly, deeply sorry. I regret all of it.
I... I've changed, or at least I'd like to think that I have. I will try to be better. You have my
solemn promise."

When she stopped speaking, the room was quiet for several seconds. Then Hermione stood
up, walked around Ron's protruding legs and stepped toward Pansy before holding out her
arms a few paces away. Pansy didn't seem to know what to do with the simple gesture, and
stared at her former enemy for several more seconds while Ron and Ginny both gaped. When
she felt Harry's hand on the small of her back, though, the dark-haired witch stepped forward,
slowly opening her own arms.

Hermione closed the distance after Pansy faltered on the second step, then pulled their visitor
into a soft embrace. Lyra and Harry shared a glance over the girls' shoulders with the
Succubus sending a thumbs-up his way as well.

When they separated, Pansy looked particularly out-of-sorts as she glanced around the room's
occupants as if looking for something. After her gaze finished on Harry, he sent her what he
hoped was a supportive smile, pointing toward one of the rear bedrooms. "If you two want to
talk things out in private, either of those rooms are free."

Pansy hesitated, sending a questioning look to Hermione who returned the look with what
Harry suspected was cautious optimism and gave a small smile. "That sounds... alright. Shall
we?"

"Let's," the Slytherin replied, then stared downward in amazement as Hermione's hand fell
into hers, gently guiding her around the back of the sitting area toward the right bedroom, the
one closest to Harry's.
Harry made it almost to the couch and sat down before Ginny announced to the room, "I'm
randy."

He shrugged, opening his zipper and tugging himself free, then sitting down next to her,
daring Ron to say something. Ginny cooed, reached out a hand for Harry to lean over and
give his cock a lick to help it stiffen. while she used the other hand to wriggle out of her
knickers. Then Ginny rose up to kiss Harry on the nose and started stroking him with one
hand while looking down and carefully shoving her knickers beneath the couch using her
feet.

Then she pulled her shirt up over her modest breasts but left it on below her arms, then turned
to face Ron and bent down, placing her hands on the coffee table. She looked between her
half-spread legs. "I'm ready, Harry... put it in me, please... I need your big dick."

"Don't mind if I do," he said with a chuckle, and stood up behind her. Before entering his Pet,
though, Harry rubbed his length between her thighs to find that she was indeed randy, for
there were rivulets of her arousal down the girl's thighs. Harry ran his hand along her pussy
first, gathering some of it up to taste it, then put his penis between her legs and gathered up
even more of the oily fluid on his cock.

Lyra casually put her feet up on the arms of the soft chair and started fingering herself while
she watched. That left Ron facing Ginny and Harry directly too. He grumbled briefly before
fishing out his cock and looking in the Succubus' direction, "Now I'm randy, too. Come on,
Lyra."

"Uh, uh," the Succubus murmured, "can't... too tired."

Harry knew full well the Succubus could just lie there while he got his rocks off, and Ron
would enjoy it just fine, so there was something else going on, but...

Then it hit him. She wants to encourage Ginny to do it and Ron to enjoy it again. He smiled
as he pulled back to line up with Ginny's entrance and pushed inside. Both of them moaned
as Harry reached around her slender waist and up to grope one tit over her bra. The dark-
haired wizard watched Ron's face while he deliberated, eventually dropping a hand to his
own cock and starting to slide it back and forth.

He didn't say anything yet, though. Instead, Harry focused on watching the model-like,
graceful curves of Ginny Weasley's body while he stroked in and out of her. He was even
bigger now, so she could only take two-thirds of him before he hit her cervix, but he hadn't
widened himself at all since learning how to control his body's shape. In fact, he'd actually
lost a quarter-inch of circumference, give or take, so he wasn't stretching her quite as far.

She didn't seem to complain or even notice, though, as Harry still scraped against the girl's
moist walls as he started her rocking back and forth.

"I guess I can wank," Ron muttered, glancing between the clearly masturbating Succubus and
his sister's lust-filled face.

"I bet if you asked nicely," Harry said, "your sister would suck you off again."
Ron stopped stroking to stare wide-eyed at Harry. Slowly, over several seconds, his eyes
moved downward to meet his sister's. Harry couldn't see her expression from behind, but he
could guess, and did see the line of her jaw move, if only a little.

She didn't say anything.

Neither did Ron, at first. Eventually, after glancing at Lyra again, then up at Harry, he looked
down and almost hissed, "Ginny, d'you- would you please- um... suck my cock?"

"Hm? I didn't hear you," Ginny said, "Harry's distracting me."

Ron grimaced, muttered something under his breath that even Harry's enhanced hearing
didn't catch over the rhythmic, deep breath of Ginny below him, then repeated, "Ginny,
would you suck my cock please?"

"Come again?"

Ron scowled down at her, and angled his penis in her direction with one hand. The other
pointed it at her mouth with two fingers at the base. He growled, voice low and almost
threatening, if it didn't sound so desperate, "P-Please, Gin, blow me."

"No," Ginny whispered to Harry's surprise, but immediately followed with, "but you can fuck
my throat, Ron. Use my mouth-pussy, and make me- mnff!"

Ginny rocked back against Harry as Ron did as she'd said, taking hold of her head and
shoving in. The girl gagged once, but immediately lifted both hands to wrap around Ron's
waist and hold him inside her so that her upper body was supported entirely by his pelvis and
long cock in her throat.

"Fucking perverted slag," Ron growled, slowly pulling out after several seconds to let her
breathe, though not quite withdrawing his tip, "You want your brother's dick in your mouth
that bad? Fine. Have it!"

He started pumping furiously, sending Ginny's much smaller body back into Harry's thighs
again and again. Harry could feel the wetness of the hole on his end double over the next few
seconds as Ginny was abused, and even stopped his own pumping since Ron was moving her
enough for both of them. That freed up his focus to pay more attention to Ginny's tits
swinging in his hand, then put the other around her again to rest it over her clit which slid and
dragged with every one of her brother's rough humps.

Over a minute or so, Ron's movements grew increasingly erratic, his expression darkening
into one of an almost cruel possession as he looked down to watch his baby sister's eyes well
with tears over the rough handling. He only pulled free to let her breathe every twenty
seconds, and then only for one or two great, heaving breaths before he drove in again. "You
like that, slag? You want me to use you like the slag you are, huh? Fuck your face, push you
back onto my friend's cock? You get off on that, huh? Or maybe you get off on that Succubus
slut watching you get fucked from both sides?"

Lilith, on the chair to Harry's right, gave a little moan and started thrumming herself faster.
Harry began to feel a rapid orgasm approach himself when Ginny's response to Ron's words
was to cry out and moan around her brother's schlong. Even over the now louder slap of their
flesh together, he could hear her gulping, trying to swallow around Ron, and the noise was
driving him wild.

The pleasure doubled for Harry again as Ginny's walls fluttered and shook around him, her
body going limp as she climaxed. Her hands fell free to swing and bounce over the table,
scattering homework, flinging it about as she endured a powerful, gripping orgasm.

Ron noticed, because he growled, "That's it, slag, cum for your brother's cock," and slammed
in, leaving himself there while his erection pulsed and twitched in Ginny's throat, buried all
the way down.

Harry was agonizingly close himself, and started rutting as Ron fell still, though not with the
same force. Slowly, Ron pulled free inch by inch. Harry was overjoyed at the sight of his
friend's dick, slick and slimy with Ginny's throat bile, saliva, and his own white cum. Then,
when the tip was finally past her throat, Ginny coughed once, loudly, and sent a spray of
white all over Ron's pubes and scrotum.

By the time he'd pulled free, a look of disgust on his face at the mess (or maybe what he'd
just done to his sister), Ginny was resting her hands on the table again as Harry grunted,
slamming completely into her and filling her womb again.

"Well done, Ron, Ginny," Lyra cooed as she stood up once Harry pulled out of Ginny's
gaping vagina, "I'll clean everyone up, don't worry about the mess."

She began with Ron, making a show of tasting the semen that had mixed with Ginny's saliva
as she coughed it back onto him at first. "Mm, tasty..." After a few seconds that made Ron
shudder, she became more business-like, licking him up more like she would do at the
breakfast table. Once he was clean of all but her own saliva, the red-faced boy, hard once
again, went to take a shower.

Ginny, still leaning over the table, was soon moaning again beneath Lyra's tongue, and her
hips shook under another soft orgasm. After that, she shakily walked to Harry's own
bathroom for the same reason.

Once they were gone, the Succubus drifted into the air as Lyra, and kissed Harry briefly
before falling the inch or two she had risen to settle her twat on his dick while she straddled
him on the couch. "Well played, Master... I think both enjoyed that enough that pushing them
a bit further might be safe now, and I know Hermione will enjoy unlocking a bit more of
Ron's dominant nature... as soon as we can get him to realize it's control he craves."

"Yeah," Harry murmured, pulling her body against his and kissing the Asian-appearing lips
briefly. "How are Hermione and Pansy doing? Do you know?"

Lyra shrugged, nuzzling his neck, "They are both aroused, one more reluctantly than the
other, but they're still talking. You might go check on them, unless you want me first."
"I always want you, you know that. It sounds like you have something else in mind, though.
What are you going to do?"

Lyra grinned, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Well, as it's just about three, I think I'll go
find a few students to encourage in their lusts. Unless you have something in particular...?"

"Well, I'm still suspicious of Malfoy and his goons," Harry said quietly, "even if Goyle
basically confirmed it was them. Can you go up to the Room of Requirement and keep an eye
out for him doing anything? Of course, you can have fun with Mandy if she agrees- you can
even look like me."

"Fun," Lyra said with a smile, then morphed into his appearance including clothing before
reaching down to give his cock a squeeze. "I found the best Master in... centuries, maybe, and
it was my first time being Summoned. I'm so lucky."

"Not as lucky as me," Harry argued with a laugh as she- he, now- moved away, circling
around him and heading for the door.

Once he was gone, Harry put his wet, erect cock back in his pants and moved to the door
Pansy and Hermione had used, giving it a soft knock.

"Come in," Hermione's voice said after a few seconds.

Harry found himself admiring the curve of Pansy's neck as it met her olive-hued shoulder,
before widening his perception to more than just a fraction of one person in the room. She
was the closer of the two, but both girls were sitting on the right edge of the bed, heads
turned toward him. Both sat with ankles crossed, Hermione's a little higher, with the
Gryffindor in her usual neat casual clothing, and Pansy in the weekend version of the
Hogwarts uniform: basically everything except the outer jacket and with shorter hose than
girls were normally required to wear during classes.

And the two were holding hands, one of Pansy's held in both of Hermione's, resting between
their laps. Both had also clearly been crying, judging by the eyeliner running down Pansy's
cheeks and the slight puffiness of his girlfriend's eyes. "Everything going okay?" Harry asked
quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Pansy turned her head to Hermione, then back to him. "I... think so. She... Hermione
explained the things that you've... been doing. I already knew about your slave, but..."

"She's not my slave," Harry corrected softly, closing some of the distance to pace around the
small floor space not covered in furniture, "she's my friend. Lilith may've started out as more
a servant, but..."

Pansy nodded slowly as he spoke, not contradicting him. "And... the rest? Your...
relationships?"

"I told her almost everything, Harry," Hermione said quietly, "I hope you don't mind. She had
a lot of questions."
"And of course, you had to answer," Harry said with a soft smile, waving his hand in her
direction, "I'm not mad, you... should have. I'm glad you did, really, because now I won't
have to. I was already planning to, if I ever found the right moment, it's just..."

"Why?" Pansy asked, "Why would you, though? I don't... I'm not your friend. I'm just
somebody you gave some good advice to, and we... were intimate a few times. I'd like to
think we are allies, maybe, but..."

"Aren't we friends, though?" Harry returned quietly, stopping his slow pace and facing the
girl, "Because I thought we were. Maybe not close friends, but more than just acquaintances.
Not because of any intimacy, either. At least, not physical intimacy."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't protest or seem offended this time. She'd always been
fairly honest in all her dealings, hated deception with a passion. So if she wasn't outwardly
bothered that Harry had been with Pansy anymore, then it was probably alright with her. She
would make it known if she wasn't. Pansy, though, looked down, flushing slightly, "I... I want
to be more than allies. If... if you think of yourself- of us- as friends, then... I'd like that."

"Good," Harry smiled genuinely, "but that does come with some other requirements, you
know," and started pacing again, mostly turning his attention to the few knicknacks the room
had collected from the short stays Hermione, Ron, or Ginny and their occasional other guests
had made.

"R- Requirements? I've already told you I'll do all I can for your side- our side."

"Not that," Hermione murmured, "He means... if you're his friend, you have to be our friend,
too. All of us. Even if that means consorting with muggle-borns like me, and blood-traitors
like the Weasleys."

Pansy gave the girl a strange look, wiping at some of her eyeliner and making it smear across
a cheek, "I... don't understand your point. I mean, I had assumed you were a package deal.
Harry's... worth it. Not that I mean it will be hard to be around you or the Weasleys, I... I
mean, I want to get to know the people Harry likes. I want to be your friend, their friend,
because... because if Harry sees some value in your relationships, then I... I want to be the
kind of person who does, too."

"Okay," Hermione said softly, "That's good to know. I'll remind you that it might be hard, but
I'm willing to let the past go. We can be friends from now on, if you want."

"I do," Pansy said, whimpering, then sniffled. "I can't believe how cruel I was, but I... You're
a very good person, Hermione Granger."

"Good, now kiss and make up," Harry said, amused.

Hermione shot him a glare, but Pansy turned scarlet, "K-k-kiss? H- Hermione? I... I mean,
that is to say, I..."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione growled to her while still shooting Harry a dirty look, "He's
always making inappropriate jokes these days."
"I- I would, if it would... help," Pansy admitted. "I mean... I'm not attracted to girls, but if
Harry..."

"I'm not, either," Hermione reassured her, "but there is the occasional... well... you know what
I said we've done. It can be... exciting. If we aren't already involved, though, there's no pull
toward..."

Maybe it was a bit unfair, but Harry didn't mind so much. The idea had come to him as a jest,
yes, but now it had taken root. Gradually he tried to turn up his newly-gained Aura of
Arousal.

There wasn't an immediate effect, aside from a slight softening of Hermione's dirty looks in
his direction, so Harry asked, "Have you explained why we're doing the things we are?"

Hermione nodded, glancing back at Pansy for a moment, "Not in detail, but yes. I've told her
we're using sexual magic to enhance our capabilities without specifics. I don't know Ginny's
power, after all, and my own is something equivalent to something more powerful
wizardkind can do anyway, even if I've come by it very early in my life."

"Mage sight is really hard to do, though," Pansy told her, "I mean, most people acknowledge
that the Headmaster can do it, and maybe the Deputy Headmistress. The Dark Lord probably
can, and my mother's got some ability to do it, but it takes a spell for her. I don't know of
anyone else except Mad-Eye Moody that can do it, and he needed that weird eye."

Hermione shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed by the comparisons, "Still, I... that's all I got
from it. It's useful, and it's already helped a lot in my classes. I can just watch the magic flow
as the Professors demonstrate the spells and mimic that, but I was already ahead of the class
in most everything thanks to my study."

"And talent," Harry reminded her, "and drive, and smarts."

Pansy supplied, "I agree, Hermione. Don't sell yourself short. A lot of- a lot of how I used to
be centered on jealousy that you were so good when, according to what I'd been taught, you
should be below every pure-blood in terms of talent and skill. That you excel so much... well,
you earn it, I know you do, but... it's astounding how powerful you could be."

Hermione blushed again, "I'm not that special..."

This time, Harry and Pansy shared a look, both rolling their eyes while Hermione was
looking away. Then the girl stood up, letting go of Hermione's hands. "I must look terrible.
I... I came for something else, Harry, if- if I could have a private word?"

He nodded, "Of course. There's a WC in there, you can wash up first if you want. I've got the
evening, if you don't have plans to leave in a hurry. But, um... for the record, having seen you
without, you look just as good without makeup at all."

She blushed, then followed his gesture toward the small door.
Once the door had closed and the tap began to run, Hermione looked up at Harry, sending
him a half-annoyed, half-amused glare. "You're terrible, you know. She's scared to death of
any of us rejecting her, and you have to tease her about us kissing? Once she comes out, I'll
leave you to your conversation, but-"

"Stay, if she will let you," Harry interrupted. "I think I know what she wants, but-"

"Of course she wants to shag you," Hermione hissed, "and I'm fine with that. I just don't see
the need to watch your back. You trust her, don't you?"

"I do," Harry agreed, "and I want you there. Not to watch my back... but because I think it'll
be easier for her to acclimate to you first than anyone else, except maybe Lyra."

"Fine," Hermione muttered, glancing at the door of the water closet, "but if she doesn't want
me here, I'm out. I'll go read or something."

"Of course."

Once Pansy, looking considerably more put-together, stepped out of the small room, Harry
didn't give her a chance to remind them that she wanted a private talk. Instead, Harry, as
usual, chose the more open, up-front route. "You want to shag, right?"

Pansy glanced to Hermione, looking suddenly scared, and turned a dusky color.

"I don't mind if you do," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "it's not like I don't know you
haven't already, and Harry has... some fairly strong needs. These days, most of us do."

"I... I do, yes," Pansy conceded, looking down shyly at the floor and twisting one of her cute
mary-janes into the carpet with her hands folded behind her back, "but I don't want to...
infringe."

Hermione snorted. Harry had a slightly more diplomatic approach, oddly enough. "I think
you'll find that, using Hermione's words, 'these days' the lot of us don't have a whole lot of...
boundaries, I suppose you could call them. We're all pretty open about such things, and..."

"What he's saying," Hermione finally said after Harry trailed off, leaving Pansy not looking
any less confused, "is that he wants me to stay while you do. If that bothers you then I will
leave, no questions asked and no feelings hurt. But if you want me to stay, or don't mind me
staying, then I will."

"Er... Would- Would you be... participating?"

Hermione shot Harry a look as if to say that this whole line of questioning was his fault, but
shrugged, "I can, but I don't have to. I've... well, as I said, normally I'm not attracted to girls.
But when Harry's aroused, I tend to... be more free. And you are a pretty young woman."

"Thank you," Pansy blushed. "I... I don't know if I'd... like that. I suppose I don't mind if you
stay, though. Would you just be... w- watching?"
The brunette shrugged again, "I don't know. I'm fairly turned on myself right now, and both
listening and watching you two would likely encourage me at least to... to satisfy myself."

Pansy's eyes rolled, "In the first four years, we Slytherins have roommates, and in later years
we get our own for fifth through seventh. But yes, I'm used to girls... entertaining themselves
while I'm around. No one in my dorm was as sneaky as they thought. Especially not..."

"She knows about Daphne and Tracey," Harry said casually, "they dropped by the other day,
together."

'Ah. I..."

Hermione gave Pansy a steady look, "I'm not one to judge. I've... been with Ginny Weasley
several times. A couple of them when Harry wasn't even around, since she's... apparently not
limited to just men in her desires without Harry. It's a pleasurable experience even if not
something I'd normally go for. I don't care if they're girlfriends, not one bit."

"Alright," Pansy said after a moment, glancing between them, "You should know it's not so
well-looked upon in most of our older families. Harder to keep the blood going if you're
seeking... well, same-sex partners. I personally don't care one whit, and I know that Daphne
already has a Contract with Harry to carry on her line, and Tracey has another arrangement
with him, so it doesn't surprise me so much to hear they were here."

"Will it surprise them if they find out you were?" Harry asked.

Pansy shook her head, "No, I... told them I was coming, in case... something happened, or I
didn't come back tonight."

Harry grinned. "So... you basically came for a booty call."

"I don't know what that means," Pansy replied.

Hermione shook his head and stood up, pressing her jeans flat and walked past Harry,
slapping his shoulder as she did, "Ignore him, he's basically a child still. Mentally, at least.
There are other parts that are more mature."

"Yes," Pansy muttered drily, "I know about those."

Pansy stood awkwardly looking at the floor between Harry and herself while Hermione sat
down in the chair by the desk and picked up whatever book had been lying there. "Er... what
would you like to start with?" Harry asked.

She shrugged, "I..."

That was all for a moment, until Hermione piped up, "I won't be interrupting unless you want
me to, but I'll take this chance since you haven't started yet to remind you that Harry has very
little in the way of inhibitions or taboos. If you want him to do something in particular, he'll
likely help you out if you ask."
Pansy swallowed, then steeled her nerves and stood up straighter, pushing her shoulders back,
staring directly up at Harry. "I... want you to undress me. Er, slowly. And... while you do, tell
me I'm..."

"I get what you're trying to say," Harry murmured as she trailed off, blushing again. He
stepped in close, feeling her chest just brush against his, and rested his hands on her waist.
Then he leaned in, nesting his nose in her bobbed, dark hair and inhaled slowly. "You smell
divine, Pansy, and you look delectable. I..."

Pansy shivered against him, leaning into Harry's body as his hands drifted both higher and
lower, one skirting up the back of her blouse, the other drifting down over her round rump to
cup it for a moment, then twitch his fingers against the lower hem. "I want you," he
whispered into her ear, running the bottom of his tongue along the shell, then pressing his
bulge against her stomach, "can you feel how much, Pansy? Thinking about being with you
again drives me crazy. I love your hair..."

He gave it another long inhale, running his left hand up the back of her neck and through the
hair on the back of the girl's head. She sighed, tilting her head back into his hand as her
breathing picked up. "I love how it feels when you shiver against me... the feel of your tits
pushing on my chest. The angle of your cute nose, and your luscious lips..." Harry ran his
tongue, then, down the girl's jaw, across her cheek, letting his other hand drift around to her
shoulder.

"How your collar shakes as you pant, and the hint of cleavage you always show..." He dipped
a finger down, following the collar of her blouse down to push two digits between her
breasts, hooking a button from behind and pulling it free with a pop.

Pansy gasped as he did, then pulled back enough to use the same fingers to open her blouse a
little more, staring down at the now four inches of exposed cleavage. "I love how hot your
body is, like there's a fire inside you that can't be put out. I love your determination, your
willpower, and how you're not afraid to admit it when you're wrong."

Pansy moaned again, tilting up to kiss Harry's chin while he talked. His hand drifted lower,
unbuttoning her blouse one at a time though he didn't pop any more of the buttons. At each
one, he found something new to admire. "I love your skin, how it's smooth... just a little
brown... your hips... I'd love to see you dance, you know... feel your thighs around me,
pulling me in..."

Harry continued until her blouse fell to the floor, and cupped one breast while he reached
around her to undo the snap on the bra. He held it there with the front hand for a bit, trailing
fingertips down the curve of her spine, too. "I love how you arch as I take you from behind..."

Then he stood back and let the last piece of clothing fall. He stepped behind her then, sliding
one arm around the girl's waist to splay against her stomach, and reached down to Pansy's
knee with the other. He spider-walked it up the outside of her leg, over the skirt, and then to
the zipper at the back, which he pushed down slowly, "I love how much you want me... even
if you love someone else. I love that you're willing to be friends with people you once
scorned..."
He pushed the skirt down, then stood back up and put first one hand, then the other, on
Pansy's shoulders and leaned in over her right side. "Hermione... isn't she beautiful?"

The brunette looked up from her book, seeming truly surprised to remember there were
others in the room. At once, though, her features softened as she looked down Pansy's front,
now clad only in knickers, and then back up more slowly.

While she was looking downward, Harry's fingers hooked in the outside of Pansy's black
knickers and pulled out, pushing them down around the flare of her hips. "I love how your
hips wiggle when I touch you... do you want me to touch you, Pansy?"

"Y- Yes," she whispered, pushing her rear against his pants, "P- please, Harry..."

"She is beautiful," Hermione agreed after a few moments, opening her legs a little and resting
one hand on her thigh.

"See, Hermione agrees," Harry murmured, lifting a hand to push up against the bottom of
both of Pansy's tits with his forearm. The other hand moved down her front to cover the
small, dark patch of hair between Pansy's legs, and he dipped one finger inside. "You're really
wet... are you getting off knowing she's seeing you naked?"

"N- n-no," Pansy murmured, lifting an arm behind her to circle Harry's head and fist in his
hair, "It's- it's y-you..."

"Mm. So, if I left, you wouldn't let Hermione touch you instead?"

"N- nn... I... I..."

"I would, if you asked," Hermione admitted, "but if you don't want me to I'll stay right here."

Harry's fingers started moving more quickly on Pansy's pussy, his thumb back and forth over
her clit, and another finger pushed into her. His other hand moved up to cover both of her
already-hard nipples, and pulled her into him that way, hard enough to make Pansy moan.

He used his foot to push against her ankles, which still had her socks and shoes on- spreading
the girl's legs a foot or so. Then the hand on her cunt drifted up and around her hips, dragging
a smear of pussy juice that glistened in the candle-light of the room until he reached down
around her bum and resumed fingering the girl, this time from behind. Pansy moaned as he
opened her folds with his fingers. "I love the sounds you make when you make love... and
how much you deny what you want. Give in, Pansy. Tell me what you want."

"I want you," she whispered, twisting her head to pull him into a long kiss that left her
panting as she pulled away, resting her forehead on his.

"Well, my hands are busy," he teased, "so I can't undress... why don't you ask Hermione to
keep you entertained while I get ready to do just that?"

Pansy whimpered, "I..."

Harry pulled away, leaving his hands to fall free as he took two steps back. Pansy half-turned
toward him, exposing a perfect side-view of her body, and reached out... he was just out of
her reach. "Ah, ah... if you want someone to touch you right now, ask Hermione."

The witch pouted, then swallowed, turning her head the other direction and whispering, "H-
Hermione...? Did- do you want to... touch me?"

Perhaps it was unfair, using his Aura of Arousal on the girl, but Harry had stopped caring
before she had asked Hermione. Pansy came here, essentially, to use him in some fashion.
Harry was fine with that because he benefitted as well. But if she was truly going to be kept
from slipping back into her old ways, he needed to ensure the young woman wouldn't stray,
that she had plenty of reason to stay with them.

For that, he needed her to really enjoy her time with him.

And a little help wouldn't go amiss in that.

Hermione closed the book, but stayed seated as she continued to admire the nearly nude girl.
"I will, if you want me to. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Pansy."

"I... I do," she whispered.

"Alright." Hermione stood up and methodically began to disrobe. Once she was done, while
Harry watched her, she stood up and faced Pansy, holding her arms a little out from her sides,
palm forward, and gave a slow spin. "This is what I look like... it's fair, right?"

"Goddess," Pansy exhaled, "You're very beautiful, too."

Where once Hermione might have died of shock to hear the Slytherin say that to her with
such sincerity, now she only smiled faintly and murmured, "Thank you. Now... Do you want
me to just touch you? Or do you want more?"

"I've, er... never- never been with a woman," Pansy whispered. "I've seen- seen Tracey and
Daphne, but..."

"You'd like to see what it's like?"

Pansy nodded once, seeming scared but also still very much in need.

Hermione stepped in, putting Pansy between her and Harry, then reached down to pick up the
girl's right arm by the wrist, lifting it to rest on her own left tit. "Feel me, then... explore me."

Harry lifted his own shirt over his shoulders as quickly as possible so he could see Pansy give
Hermione a light squeeze, grazing her palm over the front of the breast, and then prod a
nipple, which began to swell.

She looked down at it, amazed, and put it between her thumb and forefinger, giving a soft
pinch that made Hermione sigh as Harry lifted one leg and yanked off his shoe and sock, then
repeated the other and pushed down his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.
Pansy tentatively reached out with both hands, lifting Hermione's tits and letting them fall.
When they stopped swaying, she pushed them together, then pinched the distended nipple,
which made Hermione sigh. "That feels good," she murmured, "Do you want me to show you
how good?"

The black-haired girl nodded, hands now beginning to roam up and down Hermione's arms,
her stomach and sides. Hermione gave Pansy's breasts a pair of gropes as well, and as her
own dark nipples, already hard, continued to swell, she flicked them both, left then right, and
gave one side a slight twist. "Feels good, right?"

"Mm... mm-hmm..."

Harry started to stroke himself slowly as he walked around the girls, admiring the sight of
them full-circle, before Hermione reached up to cup Pansy's head with her hands and pull her
down. "Suck on them."

Pansy swallowed, seeming to resist Hermione's grip at first, but as she spoke, the other girl
moaned and stopped fighting. Instead, she flicked one nipple with her tongue, then pulled it
between her lips. Hermione moaned, pressing her chest into Pansy. The latter suckled for
several seconds, then pulled away. "Did you like it? I've never done it before."

Hermione, slightly taller anyway and with her hands still holding Pansy's head at her chest
level, smiled. "I liked it very much."

Then she let go and her hands slid down Pansy's front, over her chest, and kept going down
as the bookworm sank to her knees with her hands on the front of Pansy's thighs. "Now..."

She didn't say anything else. Instead, she put her mouth to work laving on the lightly furred
snatch. Pansy began moaning, humping herself against Hermione's face almost at once. Harry
joined in then, stepping up behind her and pressing his slab of meat between her arse cheeks,
then reaching a couple fingers around to circle Pansy's delicate throat, putting two fingers
into her mouth, too. "Hermione's probably making you feel really good, right?"

It was hard for her to talk with Harry's fingers in her mouth, but Pansy tried to say, "Oh, God
yes!"

He whispered, "Ginny's even better."

Soon, Pansy's hips were gyrating wildly against Hermione's mouth, and the movement of her
arse on his cock might have been enough to get Harry off, but the girl climaxed, screeching
out with a keening wail, clutching Hermione's head with thigh and hands both.

Then Hermione stood up, face glistening, and leaned in to kiss Pansy deeply. The girl was
surprised at first, and didn't resist for several seconds. When she did begin to struggle, it was
only for a moment before she began moaning once more into Hermione's mouth as her
fingers doubtless went to work on the other girl's pussy. Then, smiling proudly, Hermione
backed up, put her hands on Pansy's shoulders, and pushed her down. "On your knees,
Pansy... it's my turn."
The girl paled, still panting from her powerful orgasm, but slowly descended on shaking
knees.

It was clear from the first few seconds that the Slytherin witch hadn't had nearly the practice
that Hermione had, but she still went at it gamely, while Hermione kept a hand on the girl's
head and worked her own chest, alternating sides frequently with the other.

Harry stopped his slow circles then, coming up behind Hermione instead, and let his cock fall
against the small of her back as he looked over her shoulder. "Pansy looks really good
between your legs, Hermione," he whispered, just loud enough he knew both girls could hear
over the lewd sounds emanating from below, "It's very sexy."

"I agree," Hermione moaned, "keep licking... yes, right on my clit... that's- that's it..."

It took more than a couple of minutes for Pansy's less expert tongue to get Hermione off, but
after the brunette finished, she pulled away and turned, holding Pansy down at the shoulder
again as she returned to her knees, facing Harry. "His turn... I love sucking cock. You ever
done it?"

"With Harry," Pansy said between pants, "I... he made me, then I chose to."

"Did you like it?"

Pansy shrugged, blushing deeply, "More- more than I thought I would."

"If you want to get good," Harry murmured, still stroking himself as he looked down at the
girls, "watch Hermione. She's the best human girl I know, and could give Lilith a run for her
money any day."

"O- Oh. Okay."

"Watch and learn then," Hermione murmured, and leaned forward, angling Harry down.

Somehow, she took his entire length on the first swallow, watching either him, or looking to
her left at Pansy, who gaped. Then she pulled off and repeated it, deep-throating him on every
pump for more than a minute, fast and hard, before angling him toward Pansy.

"I- I don't think I could-"

Hermione smiled, "You don't have to. Just do what you can. Relaxing helps- personally, I find
having a dick in my mouth very relaxing."

Pansy flicked his tip with her tongue, then opened her lips just a little, letting them graze
every bit of his wide head as she took him inside. Her tongue was already at work, too,
though her movements were rough and unrefined. But Harry had been wanking while
watching the girls explore each other for half an hour, and had just been getting a truly expert
blowjob from Hermione for a minute, so he was already getting close. "God, that feels great,
Pansy..."
She kept it up, smiling around him as she began to bob. Then Hermione leaned in again and
started to lick along the lower half of Harry's shaft, then his balls, and back before kissing
Pansy on the cheek and lips.

Harry groaned at the sight, at the feel of having his cock in two girls' mouths at once. Then
Hermione tugged him free of Pansy's orifice with a pop, and started deep-throating him
again. This time, she only did it for a few seconds before offering him to Pansy again, who
took over immediately though she didn't try to do the same.

"Harry," Hermione moaned, pushing a hand between her legs, and doing the same to Pansy,
who yelped but started to grind into her, "cum for us... We're both hungry for your sperm,
Harry. Feed us!"

The wizard wasn't that close, but Hermione's dirty talk changed his mind about how much to
enjoy the current situation, and he willed the climax to come faster. Soon, he was flexing and
pumping, spurting seed onto two outstretched tongues and into wide open, eager mouths.
Once he was done, Hermione leaned in and pulled hard with her lips on his tip to get a bit
more out, then reached up to turn Pansy's head toward her, giving her a sloppy, jizz-covered
kiss.

By the time she had finished, Harry was rock-solid again, staring avidly at a long string of
slobbery white that ran from Pansy's chin to her tits, swinging as she gasped for breath.

Hermione smiled, standing up, and patted Pansy on the head. "Okay, thanks- I've got some
reading to do. Have fun."

With a gobsmacked expression Pansy watched her former nemesis walk back to the chair and
sit down, crossing one leg over the other, and open the book once more. Then Harry made her
jump by tapping her cheek with his still very erect cock. She stared at it for several seconds,
then slowly looked up his body. "You... you want m-more?"

"Well," Harry replied reasonably, "you came for a shag, right? We haven't done that, yet."

Pansy blushed, then nodded, slowly pushing her way to her feet with a distinct lack of grace.
Once she was standing on wobbly knees, the girl turned to the bed and put one knee on it,
leaning forward... and that was where Harry caught her, half-way onto the furniture. He put
one hand in her hair, grabbing a small fistful of it, and the other around one of her luscious
mammaries, squeezing tightly to hold her in place as he growled, "Is this what you want,
Pansy? You want me to take you from behind, like I did that first night on the tower? Did you
get off on knowing Draco was watching you fuck a stranger?"

Pansy whimpered, still frozen, and didn't protest or say anything. So Harry gave her tit a
rough squeeze from behind and pulled her hair enough to bring her head all the way back,
then let go and spanked her across both ass cheeks in one swipe, as hard as he dared. Pansy
cried out, a high-pitched shriek, then immediately ground her ass against him, whimpering.
"I... I..."

Harry filled his hands with her rump as he knelt on one knee, shoving his face into the half-
delirious girl's cunt, thrusting his nose into her snatch itself while writhing his tongue over
her clit. Pansy climaxed almost at once. He'd already known the girl was either a stranger to
true pleasure aside from with him, or that she was extremely sensitive, because she'd always
climaxed very easily.

This time was no exception, and another rush of fluids trickled down Harry's tongue and
chin, landing on the floor next to the bed and running into his mouth, filling him with the
flavor of fresh cream cheese. He kept licking on her clit as he shifted his head to push in one
finger, then two, and finally three, pumping them in an arc back and forth, striking across the
wide g-spot behind her nub, until Pansy came again, shrieking his name. Then he stood up
while she quivered, and drove into her depths.

The witch climaxed again as he bottomed out, scraping into her womb as well now, for he
was larger naturally than he had been even the last time when they'd made love in her dorm.
But any pain Pansy might've felt was drowned out by ecstasy as he started to move. Harry
took hold of her elbows and hauled her back into an arc so her top half was upright and the
bottom horizontal, then started fucking into her harder and harder, making her whole body
shake. Damn, Harry thought to himself, I really need to do this with a mirror, so I can see her
from the front, too. I bet she'd like that.

"What do you think, Hermione?" He asked.

"Hm? Oh... she's a tart," the studious girl said distractedly, "who likes being watched. I bet
she'd like it if Ron came in and saw her getting shagged rotten, too."

Pansy whimpered, and Harry knew she was getting close again, but felt that it might be too
much at this moment, so he kept hammering away instead, letting go of one arm so that her
torso fell and twisted, until he reached around it to grab a breast again, holding it with a tight
grip as she shook and moaned against his onslaught.

After a few minutes and another orgasm, Harry leaned over Pansy and murmured softly in
her ear, "Is this what you wanted, Pansy? Do you want this, me? Do you want Hermione?
Would you accept the others, if they ask?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" she shrieked, tossing her head wildly as her body shook with every thrust
Harry made.

"Then I'll do what you said, and cum in your pussy... you want that, right?"

"Please, please, oh Circe, yes, cum in me!"

Despite his calm exterior, Harry was incredibly aroused by the dominance Pansy seemed to
enjoy from him, and knowing that Hermione was watching him do this to Pansy Parkinson in
particular added another layer of excitement to her thin, smooth and very wet channel. He
pushed forward, making Pansy stagger against the bed and half-fall with him atop her, as he
began to climax, too.

When he slowly pulled out, Harry was both horrified and excited by the sight of his semen
leaking, almost running like water, from the gaping hole between Pansy's legs, and her quiet
weeping.
"Er... P-Pansy? What's... what's wrong?" he asked, "I... I thought you wanted..."

"I did," she whispered hoarsely, "I... I've never orgasmed that hard... in... in my whole life. I...
I'll do it, everything- anything... just keep doing that to me, Potter..."

"Oh. I..." Harry didn't know how to react to that. He knew he was a sexual being, of course,
especially after having Summoned Lilith and learning all he had from her so far. He knew he
could literally break someone's mind and turn them into a creature of pure lust as well, like
Romilda Vane. But this... Pansy didn't seem changed, really, at least not aside from her own
choices to follow his advice, but...

"I'll talk to her, Harry," Hermione eventually said, "But I think what she's trying to say is:
'thank you, master'."

"Mm," Pansy murmured, but didn't correct her former enemy.

Harry left the room after gathering his clothes, while Hermione still occasionally turned
pages, though she was now diddling herself openly while she read, and Pansy lay half on the
bed still, legs spread and quivering every few minutes as she continued to leak his fluids.

Freshly showered, Harry stepped from his bedroom to find Ron polishing his Cleansweep.
"So, Quidditch practice on Saturday."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "good reminder, cheers. Let me grab mine."

He returned a minute later with his own broom servicing kit and Firebolt, taking the seat next
to Ron on the couch. They worked in near silence for a few minutes, until Ron asked quietly,
voice carefully neutral, "So, Parkinson."

Harry grinned, "Yeah? What about her?"

"I already knew you shagged," Ron muttered, glancing at the still-closed door that their
girlfriend and the girl in question were presumably still behind, "and I heard you loud and
clear earlier- heard her louder. But what's going on?"

"Well, she mentioned before, when Hermione was mad at me for doing it, that she was
curious if you were a good shag, too."

Ron blushed, "Wha- what'd you tell her?"

"I told her to find out herself, more or less. She... she might be joining us. It's still her choice,
but she seemed to want to."

Ron's eyebrows rose, "You mean... a Slytherin? With- our group?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't see why not. I expect Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass will
want to join eventually, too. I could be wrong, but..."
Ron's eyes narrowed, but only for a few seconds. "Well, whatever, I s'pose it's not really my
choice. At least she's finally grown out of that pug nose."

"I think her nose is cute," Harry replied, "but yeah, it wasn't as cute when she was younger.
Great tits though, and a good lay."

Harry laughed along with Ron, who conceded the point with a finger in the air.

"Aww, Master's talking dirty," Lyra said from behind them with a giggle, then put her hands
around his head to rest on his chest, draping her generous chest on his crown. "Is the sub
going to join us, then? Is that what I heard?"

"Sub? Isn't that a sandwich?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned, "I'll let Lyra explain the term as far as this goes- I found my previous
education very entertaining over the summer. Turns out Lilian is a bit of a sub herself."

"She sure is," Lyra chuckled, "and Master is a good Dom. Anyway, Ron, a sub in this case
refers to a submissive, and a Dom- capital D- a Dominant. You could think of them almost
like a slave and Master relationship, similar to mine with Master, but..."

As Lyra continued to explain, Harry could hear the rising sounds of Pansy's passion from the
bedroom until she had another trio of what sounded like shatteringly powerful orgasms.
Then, a few minutes later, Ginny stepped from the room, looking very pleased with herself.
"Alright, I'm going to go wash up again, and head for dinner," she announced, making for
Harry's bedroom.

Hermione, buttoning her shirt up with the same book under her arm, followed a minute later.
"Passed out, poor thing. I.... Harry, you'd better treat her right. Don't take advantage of... who
she's finding out she is."

Harry nodded solemnly as the girl passed for the more public shower, "I won't. I got it drilled
into me earlier, like I said to Ron already, how those relationships should work. If she joins
us, she will not regret it. If she doesn't, someone else is out there to make her very happy."

Ron, now having a bit more context for what both girls were talking about, shook his head as
Hermione disappeared again. "I can't believe some girls like being treated like that, but... it's
really hot."

"Yep," Harry agreed, "and the best part? I know she'll obey if I tell her I want to share."

Ron grinned, glancing up at Lyra who now stood behind Harry, massaging his shoulders, "I
do like access to more pussy. Even if it's still weird to think about not being, you know, with
one special witch."

Harry nodded, "I kind of feel the same way sometimes. Like I'm a prick for not being able to
settle- I mean, Hermione, Ginny, Lyra... is that not enough? And yet..."

"Think of it this way," Lyra suggested, "being with one special girl is great. Being with five
special girls, though...?"
"Good point."

"Good point, indeed," Harry laughed.

Voldemort scowled at the news that had come from his loyal followers at Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, annoyed once more that he had to rely on children for 'reliable'
news now that his spy had been ousted for indecency. "I am... displeased," he hissed, voice
high and sibilant but still soft as Meera Yaxley, under a disillusionment charm and thoroughly
under the control of his Imperius curse- she had proven recalcitrant when he had asked
nicely- worked his perpetually stiff member with one hand beneath his robes.

It would not do for him to be openly engaged in such acts in full court, after all, just as it
would not do for his newly rekindled urges to go unsatisfied. It wasn't the best compromise,
but it would work for now, though his patience with the lesser pleasure was beginning to
wear thin... as was his patience with Draco Malfoy's performance thus far. "I suspect," the
white-faced figure continued after a moment, "that young Draco, having finally been given a
reward for his efforts in my service, is spending too much time with his plaything, and not
enough time doing my will. I suspect that he will learn the lesson... eventually. But I am not a
patient man, am I, Lucius?"

"N- No, M-M'Lord," the gaunt, almost skeletal man, who hung swinging from a pair of
chains affixed to the roof by his ankles, nude, with his now filthy silver-blonde hair dragging
on the floor, gasped.

"No, I am not," Voldemort hissed softly. "As such, young Draco will need a reminder that
while I reward those who do well, I have little tolerance for failure. Mulciber, Parkinson...
who else is in the school that is loyal to me, capable of doing whatever is asked, and not the
sniveling, whining fool that is Draco Malfoy?"

The two shared a look, both knowing that they had been asked in particular given other
news... and that for the latter, that news was not good. The elder Parkinson had been forced to
relay that young Draco's betrothed had elected she would rather be without a family than
serve her true Master.

She had not yet been cast out, but that was under Voldemort's instruction. He could be patient
when it mattered, and it wouldn't do to cast her out when she might still be of use with the
proper enticements. A year or so after she left Hogwarts, for example, with no money or
place to go, would likely bring the prodigal daughter crying back to her parents, and thus to
him.

He had seen it before, and would likely see it again.

In fact, young Meera Yaxley, just eighteen herself, had been one such girl who had been
forced to turn to prostitution after deserting her family. Now, fairly experienced in the ways
of sex but still attractive and young, she had become something of a favorite for Voldemort
even if he had to renew her Imperius every few days... the will she possessed made it all the
sweeter as he had broken her in.
"There's... there's still the Montague boy, Corvus," Parkinson supplied, "or Vincent and
Gregorovitch's boys."

"I notice," Voldemort said, louder, "that you did not name your own loyal daughter... I
wonder why."

"My- my lord... knows why," Parkinson said, voice dropping from terrified, almost a squeak,
to a near-whisper.

"Yes, yes I do. Montague will do... or the Nott boy. Tubby?"

"Th- Theodore, Teddy," Mulciber corrected, guessing rightly that his Master's tone had been
truly questioning.

"Ah, yes. Those two... you will contact their fathers. They, in turn, will make it very clear that
they have a task from me, a task they had best fulfill. I care not which one succeeds, though
the one who does will receive the reward I plan. The task is simple. Go to the place young
Draco is working, while he and his friends are not there. Kill the girl, then leave. Do not
dispose of the body. That should be clear enough, don't you think?"

"Y- Yes, My Lord," both of the men stammered at the same time, hurrying quickly from the
room.

"Now... I have work to do, and so do all of you. If there is nothing else demanding of my
time, leave."

Within a minute, the room was nearly empty. Besides Voldemort himself, Lucius still slowly
spun, genitals on display but shrunken and withered from his lord's most recent punishment,
and the disgusting evidence of those he'd been forced to satisfy clogging his nose and running
up the man's face and the young girl pumping the Dark Lord’s shaft. "Your mouth," he
hissed.

At once, his robes were pulled open, and the girl, invisible to all but him, sank to her knees
and complied.

Truthfully, while his first few weeks of this... affliction had been most distracting, in more
recent days Voldemort found himself able to think more clearly than he had in years while
being pleasured, and he was growing glad for it. Aside from the activity feeling so very good.

Whatever had caused it had coincided with the first reports of increasing activity among the
students of Hogwarts, Voldemort was sure of it. But he had yet to figure out or learn why, or
what the cause was.

That, likely, would be a task to assign to whoever it was that carried out his newest orders for
the school, once his way in had been properly put in order.

"Deeper, yes... choke on me... ah, yes, that's better... You are turning into a most excellent
slave."
 Crimson Stains
Chapter Summary

ROLE-PLAY of NON-CON.
Character death. Brutality. Evil.
So, TRIGGER WARNINGS.
Bad consequences of good guys doing stupid things. Lowest point morally for Harry- or
the consequences of that, anyway.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there.

Of course there's also my DISCORD, here, https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw which has all

kinds of fun goodies too. Like links to my Sub Star... where you can find many more chapters
of everything I post here, and even more than is on FFnet. :)

REMINDER, there are TRIGGER WARNINGS for this chapter- (role-played) Non-Con (HP
x Lavender) and character death. This is the result of the lowest point Harry has ever gotten
morally- and the lowest point he will. A direct consequence of the worst decision he's ever
made, or will ever make. It isn't pretty, but it is necessary for him to grow into the person he
wants to become and that I, as the author, want him to become. Please bear with it- but know
if you must skip the first bits that it's alright, there are summaries later in-story to catch you
up on what happened without the gruesome details.
The Non-Con parts will SEEM very non-con, but it was basically arranged in advance
(starting with a train car visit), just off-screen. And it's not something either regrets later.

Chap. 47: Crimson Stains

On Wednesday, while Ron, Harry, and Ginny were all at Quidditch Practice and Neville and
Hannah were both in the Gryffindor Common Room being helped with their homework, most
of the staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were in a regular meeting, one
held once a month on the fourth Wednesday.

"So," Dumbledore opened, looking around the room genially, though with some signs of
fatigue in his aged eyes, "Two months back at Hogwarts. How fare things, my friends?
Anything of note?"

"Ravenclaw is calm, for the most part," Filius Flitwick squeaked, though with much less
cheer than the Headmaster might have wanted, even if it was not unexpected, "though rumors
continue to circulate about the whereabouts of Miss Brocklehurst. Some of the newer ones
claim that she and Miss Vane ran off together, that they were then affected by some sort of
flora or fauna in the Forbidden Forest, and that Miss Brocklehurst died as a result while Miss
Vane barely survived, having been driven mad."

"Altogether too close to the truth, in some respects," dear Minerva grumbled from his right,
"aside from the fact that we don't know yet why either girl disappeared, or what happened to
Miss Vane. No word from her family, yet, or the Healers?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "I am afraid not. The last news I got was already relayed
to you all, that Miss Vane will be coming back next month if all goes according to schedule,
after significant mental retraining and calibration. Her... illness has proven most stubborn, yet
the Healers believe she will be safe to permit back among the student body by that time, if we
undertake certain precautions."

"Such as?" Sirius Black, his partner in teaching Defense this year, asked quietly.

The old wizard sighed, "That, I am still working on. Some preliminary options include
keeping her in a separate dorm, similar to how Mr. Potter and his group stay most nights,
though for obvious reasons Miss Vane would need to be locked in. She will also have an
escort, of sorts, in a House Elf dedicated to removing her from any situation in which she
loses control of herself for the foreseeable future, up to and including her graduation from
Hogwarts. There are more plans, of course, but those are some we have all agreed will likely
be necessary."

There was a round of grumbling conversation around the room, though no one disputed his
plans. After all, he had been in charge of the school for a long time, and had let far more
dangerous students into the school with the proper precautions, Remus Lupin among them.
How dangerous could one sex-addicted girl be?

Not, of course, that most of the current staff considered Remus Lupin dangerous. Most of
them, in fact, were his friends. But he was still a werewolf, and when he'd been attending the
school himself, Wolfsbane had not yet been discovered.

"Hufflepuff is doing well," Professor Sprout supplied as the conversation wound down,
"though I'm a bit alarmed at the sheer number of students I've witnessed engaging in
activities of the, shall we say, carnal variety. There's always some, of course, but frankly, it's
getting a bit out of hand."

"The same in Slytherin," Slughorn said with a chuckle, "though it's not everyone, of course,
and my own House tends to be a bit sneakier about it. Still, I can't blame them. 'Tis that time
of their lives, isn't it?"

Dumbledore frowned. He, himself, had long since aged past any part of his life where such
urges were viable, though he well remembered the last time he'd truly been attracted to
someone, and what it had felt like. The rush of desire, flaming hot, and the quivering nerves
as he wondered in the dark hours of the night if that affection was returned...

The Headmaster shook his head, returning his attention back to the vociferous discussion of
all the points that had been taken away in the House Cup, and how little it seemed to matter
to the students involved. In fact, all four Houses, to one extent or another, were close to
rivaling the all-time lows that Gryffindor had at the end of the previous year, when the
delightful Dolores Umbridge had been in charge of the school. Months, and no House had
more than seventy points, when the average by that point was a hundred fifty or more?
Shocking, to say the least. Still... "Yes, I believe we have all seen it, yet there is little we can
do, unless someone has some sort of suggestion as to the cause of the behavior. I know that
Mr. Potter has been fairly discrete in his usage of his new companion's company. Furthermore
the number of students invited to his chambers, while it continues to grow, does not seem to
be encouraging the behavior in others."

McGonagall's lips, already thin, tightened further at the mention of the Succubus, but she said
nothing, only crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair as a few more ideas were
raised.

As the meeting progressed, Dumbledore found much of the school was going as he had
expected. No one had any ideas (though there were quite a few with suspicions) of who
might have caused the disappearance of either of the girls that had gone missing that year,
and many of the staff, after more than a month since the disappearances, were now leaning
toward putting the case of Miss Brocklehurst into the 'mysterious death' category or writing
her off as a runaway, despite being from, by all accounts, a relatively happy home and
leaving all her belongings behind aside from the clothes on her back and her wand.

Eventually, all of the teachers had said their piece, bringing it down to the last members of
the staff. Madam Pomfrey rarely spoke up much at the meetings, yet today she raised her
wand in the traditional method of getting one's attention, then stood up. "I'm afraid I have
some bad news, though it's not entirely unexpected. You all know that we see two or three
cases of a witch coming up pregnant a year, and have since Hogwarts' inception. You are also
all aware, as we've already discussed, the recent rise in sexual activity between the students.
Well... there's a correlation."

"What do you mean?" Professor Burbage asked, eyes wide, "Are...?"

His medi-witch colleague nodded gravely, "Just so. In the last month, I've had no fewer than
nine girls come to me with worries. Fortunately, only three were confirmed positive, but
that's more in the first four weeks of school than in an entire year. If this trend continues, we
won't have a single girl of child-bearing years who isn't pregnant by the end of the school
year. We must find a way to curb the activity, or at least to ensure that the students are being
safe."

Dumbledore frowned. That was not good news, not at all. He suspected Harry, as he'd told
the other staff, was being quite safe with his partners, and with his influence, it wasn't likely
that young Ronald or Mr. Longbottom were all that reckless, either. But the others, outside
his immediate circle of influence... "I agree, this must be solved quickly. Does anyone have
any ideas at the moment? No...? Then we will adjourn, and pick this matter up as an item of
urgency at the next meeting. I want your best ideas, all of them in fact, in one month's time.
Even that time seems dreadfully long, so if you, any of you, come up with an idea you
believe will work, please come tell me immediately. Thank you."

As the meeting broke up, Dumbledore stared sightlessly into the table, distracted from much
of his thoughts about other matters with the problem Poppy had just laid bare before all of
them. If he had not been so lost in thought, he might have noticed several of his teachers
giving each other bedroom eyes, or whispering about times and places to meet up themselves,
and drawn a more worrisome conclusion that it wasn't just the students who were growing
increasingly in sexual activity.

But he noticed nothing, and those teachers affected were so caught up in their own plans for a
rendezvous or another that they didn't notice or care, either.

Saturday afternoon that week brought another surprise for Harry. Two, in fact, though he only
thought of one as a pleasant thing. Lilith had recovered, which meant they could do another
orgy, one with the benefit of powering up Ron or Neville, or even Hannah, though Lilith
recommended the witch wait a few more weeks to 'grow into' or adjust to her first set of
Runes. As the blonde's mouth had been full of Neville's cock while Ron pounded her from
behind while both Hermione and Ginny went down on Harry, she hadn't found room to
complain.

But both boys claimed to be too tired for something that intense, so Harry decided it would
be fine to wait a week or so, and perhaps put together a larger party for the group to enjoy.
But, since neither relished the thought of adding more males and not adding females, it sort
of limited their options.

Which was why Harry had gone in search of Mandy Brocklehurst. It was time, he thought, to
reveal that he'd known her location for a couple of weeks now, that she'd elected to be a spy
for him, to feed him information. And, since she appeared to be quite used to being available
sexually, Harry also thought he might kill two Harpies with one spell, and invite her to
participate in the orgy as well, when it was ready.

He smiled, pleased that Draco hadn't been occupying the room, for he'd yet to get the Room
of Requirement to open for anything while he was using it, though he'd caught Goyle
shagging Mandy once more, and joined him again for a few minutes of fun.

All his good cheer vanished as he shut the door behind him, though.

The smell of copper and iron in the air was unmistakable, though it was a stronger stench
than Harry had ever smelled before.

As soon as he stepped around the first pile of debris, he saw why.

The poor girl had been dismembered, likely with a great bloody battle axe by the looks of it,
for it lay nearby with a more red coating on top of the older brown one. Harry could not look
away as he stepped woodenly forward, blood pounding in his ears as his vision narrowed to a
tiny speck of light surrounded by black.
She was still tied to the table. Most of her, anyway.

Mandy had been cut apart at the knees, the lower legs and feet (also cut off, harshly, as if for
practice), lying haphazardly where they had fallen, two pieces beneath the table and two
beside it. Her hands had been severed too, but Harry guessed not before her fingers were each
broken, one by one, into agonizing positions. They'd also been cut off at the elbows, but the
hands had been placed over the ruins of her breasts, which had been hacked into once,
vertically, as well. Between her legs, another cut would have followed her slit, if it hadn't
been off-place by about half an inch, bisecting the lower nine inches or so of her abdomen
and cleaving into the table. That was a bloody mess.

The last bit Harry forced himself to see through his dizzying daze was her face, twisted in
fear and pain beyond what Harry could comprehend. Surely, even the Cruciatus could not
illicit such a terrible, wrenching expression? No, surely not. He had felt it, and it could not
feel like this. Her head, at least, was attached, and her face, aside from the expression she'd
worn when she died, unmarked and undamaged. Yet Mandy's throat had been cut in a most
cruel fashion, too. There was no weapon that could have done it, but Harry knew with a
moment's inspection that whoever had cut her throat open had done so to let her finally bleed
out past the magically-cauterized wounds, but just gone deep enough with the rending,
tearing blade to open one of the major vessels in her neck. Most of the lacerations were much
more shallow, and at odd angles for a knife, but there were more than twenty cuts in all that
Harry dumbly counted, many of them pulling flesh up and out as if it were done with a brillo
pad and incredible force.

"Mandy," he whispered, "I'm so sorry... if I'd known..."

Slowly, Harry sank to his knees.

There was no reply.

No ghost of Mandy Brocklehurst ever haunted Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But when his very worried Succubus tracked him down by following the devastation in his
heart some half-hour later, she, crying open tears herself, made one statement and asked a
simple question. "I can make you forget if you want me to. Would you like to forget?"

For a long time, that was the only memory he had of that half-hour span of time, and what
he'd found there. He knew that it involved Mandy, for he remembered every other visit. He
knew that she had died.

But there was no memory of how, or of her torturous end.

In fact, all Harry could remember was a rather pleasant half hour with Mandy, then Lyra
joining them for a bit more, and then...

Harry, randy as ever, desperate for something, perked up as he watched Lavender Brown
leave the girl's loo. It was just before curfew, and she was alone on the third floor near
Gryffindor Tower, likely on her way to the Common Room.
The perfect opportunity, in other words, to give them both what they wanted.

Harry drew his wand as she passed his cloak-hidden form, and followed the girl for a few feet
before whispering, "Muffliato."

She didn't seem to notice entering the effects of the small space around Harry as he moved
closer, for the people inside the muffling spell could hear things just fine. It was only outside
the spell's area that sounds inside it were hidden and concealed. Which makes it perfect for
this, Harry thought.

With a tap of his wand on the top of his head, Harry followed Lavender for another twenty
feet while the feeling of cold eggs running down his neck faded, then he removed the cloak
and folded it quickly into his pockets, glad as ever that it seemed to possess the rare magical
property of being nearly two-dimensional, able to fold into the tiniest of spaces. Then he
hurried forward faster as they neared the last broom closet before the hallway that ended in
the Fat Lady's portrait.

Harry's hand clapped around her mouth, clenching tightly, and he used his body to ram the
witch, pushing her up against the wall next to the door, while his free hand fumbled to open
it. Lavender struggled, kicking his shins and trying to bite his hand. Both arms scrabbled
against his brawnier one, and Harry could only believe that, given how hard she struggled, if
he weren't enhanced by Lilith's magic, she might well have escaped.

In fact, she almost did, until after Harry had the door open. Then he reached a hand beneath
the girl's legs, grabbed her cunt from behind, and bodily lifted her into the broom-closet, then
let go only long enough to shut the door and hiss, "Colloportus, Impervio."

The door, locked manually and now immune to magical effects for a time, could only be
opened by the key or his death, which would end both spells. And, frankly, the odds of Filch
wandering into this closet when so many were likely close-by were abysmally small, not that
Harry felt like he couldn't handle the squib if it came down to it. All that, though, meant that
what he first growled to Lavender, voice husky with need and anger that welled up inside him
from some unknown source, was true.

"It's just you and me, pretty. No one's coming to save you."

Still, the witch struggled, kept trying to bite his hand, or kick higher, past his knees. Then she
went for her wand. Harry was faster, though, Quidditch-honed reflexes born of survival
instinct served him well once again, and he snatched it from her hand, tossing it to the floor.
He pushed against her again, sending her into the wall chest-first, then moved his hand from
her mouth to her throat, not tightly, just enough to hold her while he fumbled at his zipper
clumsily with his off-hand.

She screamed, high and loud, and for a moment Harry panicked. People could've heard that
in the Common Room. Then he remembered his earlier spell, the first he'd cast, and laughed.
"Sorry- they can't hear, you know, pretty. Like I said, just you and me. And we're gonna have
some fun."
Lavender screamed again, both hands now pulling on his fingers, but they didn't budge an
inch. Lilith had made him impossibly strong compared to the teenage girl, and her frantic
efforts were as effective at moving him as a few caterpillars. Harry, cock finally free, bent
just low enough to get his head past her skirt, then stood and pressed himself into her arse,
grinding against the thin material, silk maybe, and the warm, soft flesh beneath it.

Lavender whimpered, and tried to stomp on his shin, but Harry moved away just in time.
Then, with a swish of his wand, he conjured a blindfold. With another flick, it animated with
a charm he'd made up on the spot and flew around her eyes, tying itself behind her head
tightly. Then he pulled away from the wall, taking her with him for a moment and grabbed
one breast, giving a painful squeeze. "Ah, you've got amazing tits, pretty," Harry rumbled,
then was interrupted as the witch raised a foot to the far wall and kicked off against it,
sending her crashing into Harry. This time, it was a matter of inertia and mass, and he
actually stumbled back one step before catching himself, just brushing against the door at his
back. The hand on her tit left her, rising to slap hard across her cheek with a sharp ringing
sound. Lavender cried out again, and he felt salty tears on his hand as he pulled away. "Ah,
ah- you've begged me for it long enough, pretty. Now you're getting it, whether you fight or
not. Best to enjoy it, you might have some fun that way. I know I will!"

He let go of her throat and brought both hands down before she could fight back to rip open
the girl's vest and blouse enough to expose the white, cherry-print, muggle-style bra she
wore. That, he ripped off completely, shredding the hooks at the back and making Lavender
cry out in pain and surprise, too, before he brought both hands to her chest to knead again.
"Damn, pretty... I reckon I'm gonna enjoy havin' you."

Harry had been with many girls and women since the end of the previous year, yet none of
them, Lilith excluded (and she hardly counted, in his opinion) had a chest like the struggling
blonde's. She was larger still than Hermione or Lyra, even, full and round, no sag at all even
without the bra, bigger than his hands, and the pillowy flesh swelled around his fingers as
they dug in.

Lavender whimpered, and slowly, as he molded her flesh beneath his hands, her struggles
began to diminish, though she still wept.

Harry lifted a foot to push at the back of the witch's knees, sending her to the ground, then
stepped around her, with a hand on her head to keep her down. He put his cock against her
tear-streaked, makeup-run cheek, and she winced. "Put it in yer mouth, pretty," he rasped,
"and no teeth. You use those, an' I'll really give you somethin' to cry about."

Whimpering, no doubt praying silently that this would be enough, that her attacker would be
satisfied, the blindfolded girl opened her mouth.

Not wide enough, for she sputtered as Harry's massive head pushed past her lips, and he
forced himself in and down, down, tilting her head as he bent over until half of his huge
length was in the girl's mouth and throat. She slapped his legs again and again, even
scratched, but Harry felt none of it, the feeling of her tight throat convulsing on his cock-head
enough to push all pain from his mind. Harry pulled back and out after a full thirty seconds,
even more hard than before, and yanked Lavender to her feet, quickly spinning her around to
face the wall again. He put a hand on her back between her shoulders and pushed down, then
flipped her skirt up to run his free hand over her silken, white knickers before ripping them
off completely, making her scream again as the cloth tore at her tender flesh

He had seen Lavender's pussy before, but not like this. He'd been seeing it from her point of
view, as herself, and knew that she trimmed regularly, so it was no surprise to see no hint of
hair between her legs, just the small heart she kept above her clit. Harry was still, despite her
words on the train several weeks ago now, surprised to see moisture running down between
her legs, and her labia to be puffy and swollen. She's aroused, he realized, she's actually
really turned on. Huh. Harry roughly reached out a hand to slap the juicy cunt, and Lavender
jumped, yelping, then whimpered, "Please, no," she whispered, "don't... I'll do anything, just-
just don't, stop... I don't know who you are, I-"

"Shut up, pretty," Harry growled, slapping the pussy again, harder. This time, she didn't yelp,
but did whimper, a quieter, more pained sound. "Don't lie- I know you want this. You're
dripping back here. You've always wanted this, haven't you? To have some stranger force
himself on you, make you his... Well, it's your lucky day."

"N- No," Lavender whimpered while Harry stood fully, hand now rubbing up and down
against her whole groin, "I don't, this isn't-"

He angled himself, and pushed in, hard, forcing the girl to scream out again as he brutally
tore through a springy hymen, then pushed straight past her cervix too.

Even with the muffling charm still active, Harry instinctively slapped a hand over Lavender's
mouth to stifle the scream, for it was piercing enough to hurt his ears, too. "Ah, there you go,
pretty," he rumbled again, wishing, not for the first time, that he had learned the voice-
masking charm that Hannah had used, "now you lost that pesky virginity, and to a random
stranger in a broom-closet. You dirty fucking slut."

Lavender whimpered again as Harry pulled half-way out and pushed back in, moving in and
out of her womb again and again, four times in all, then pulling out until only his fat head
was inside her still. "P- P-please," she gasped, "I- I won't tell, I won't, please, please stop!"

Harry reached around to grab her chest again, fondling it roughly, and used the other to grab
and pinch softly at Lavender's engorged clitoris, then started moving it more smoothly,
thrumming in tiny circles until she was gasping, quivering around him. Then he started
moving again, and even through her tears and continued gasps of terror and pain, she
climaxed on him, drenching his dick with her juice. "Such a slut," he growled in her ear, now
grabbing at her hair to pull her head back and slapping her rump with his other hand, "you
fuckin' came from being raped. What kind of slut are you?"

"Wh- Why? Why are you... I- I-"

Behind her, Harry smiled. It wasn't particularly cruel, nor vindictive. In fact, Harry found
himself taking no particular pleasure from forcing himself on Lavender. He had started out of
rage, yes, at whatever source he couldn't remember, but he also knew that she wanted this on
some primal level, because she'd told him so. She wanted to be taken. Right then, he wanted
to take her.
So he began slamming in, rough and fast and hard, doing his best to break her body to his
cock, ruin her pussy for other men. It wasn't even about his dominance, his power, his
control. It was about her, and what she wanted. True, Harry was experiencing intense
pleasure and would finish all too quickly, but...

"Oh, God," Lavender cried, "Cum- cumming!"

"I am too, pretty," he grunted, "just... about..."

"N-no, not inside, not inside!" she cried out, "I'll get preg- noo!"

Harry had flexed, making her think...

But no, he wasn't that heartless.

Instead, Harry yanked himself out, spun her about again, and pushed the girl to her knees,
shoving his dick into her mouth as he blew. By instinct, perhaps, despite the horror of the
situation for her, Lavender's beautiful, swollen lips closed around his head and she started to
swallow rapidly, again and again. It wasn't enough.

Soon, her cheeks were bulging, and he could see her eyes widen beneath the blindfold. Harry
kept grunting, pumping his cock with one hand, the other holding her in place with a hand
fisted in the wavy blonde hair, until his thick seed began to ooze, then run from Lavender's
mouth onto her luscious, white boobs.

Her hands came up to push him away, and slowly, Harry pulled himself free. She coughed the
moment she could, sending a spray of his jizz and her saliva all over Harry's trousers, shoes,
and the floor, but most rushed down her chin to swing a few times before falling onto her tits,
adding to the already four tablespoons on them.

Carefully, wand at the ready, Harry reached for the blindfold a few seconds later, and pulled it
off, face neutral. "Hi, Lavender."

"H- Harry? What- what are-"

"We need to talk," he grimaced, not really regretting what they'd just done, but beginning to
wonder if this was what she'd really wanted, after all. Because the tears and makeup on her
face, the gasping, the evident pain, the shock she'd gone into, for her pupils were wildly
dilated...

The girl launched herself at him, and for a moment Harry feared for his life. But Lavender
Brown did not attack him. Instead, she flung her arms around his neck as they crashed back
into the wall and slid down it, ending her sitting on his lap, his half-stiffy trapped beneath her
thighs, as she sobbed into his chest. Confused, Harry awkwardly reached around to pull her
close and began stroking her back with his fingertips, cupping her head against him while she
cried in great, heaving sobs. The smell of sex, his semen mostly, filled the small closet, for
Lavender didn't bother cleaning up.
After a few minutes of the cloying odor growing more thick, Harry reached across and picked
the blindfold up off the floor and started wiping, cleaning the girl's lipstick-smeared mouth,
then chin, before casting the scouring charm at the cloth and even more tenderly cleaning her
huge round tits and the space between them before vanishing the whole lot. Lilith could do
without one of his loads. As he worked, Lavender's crying slowed and softened, until she was
only occasionally shaking, trembling really, reduced to sniffles and whimpers as tears
continued to widen the wetness on his shirt. "I won't ask if you're alright," he eventually said
quietly, pulling her against him again and adjusting his feet to a more comfortable position
but keeping Lavender on his lap, "I know you aren't. I'm sorry if I was too forceful, but you'd
said you wanted... wanted it rough, and I..."

He took a deep breath. Lavender didn't even seem to be listening, and didn't say anything
either. How could he make it right if she didn't tell him what was wrong? Besides the
obvious, but hadn't she...? "I don't know why- what came over me, Lavender," he eventually
admitted, "I've just been so... angry, the last few hours. You didn't do anything wrong, you
didn't deserve... this. I'm sorry. If you want, I'll... I'll go to Dumbledore, tell him everything.

"You are a sweet, good person, who truly didn't deserve that. I admire you, to be honest, for
how you fight for what you believe in, fight for what you want, and... well, obviously I think
you're beautiful. Everyone does. But that doesn't give me the right, not in any way, and I'm
sorry. So sorry, I didn't want to hurt you."

He was about to keep talking, trying (and probably failing) to explain, when Lavender
sniffled again, and spoke for the first time in quite a while. Her voice was hoarse from her
cries and earlier yells, almost raspy in a smoky sort of way that sent an entirely different thrill
through Harry's body as she did, "I said it- last year. You're a good bloke, H-Harry. I... I was
so scared, and it hurt so much, but I... I liked it, too. I knew it was you. I saw you as you
pushed me against the wall in the corridor. But I-"

"You lied to me?" Harry interrupted, completely confused.

Slowly, Lavender nodded against his chest. "I... when I was little, maybe ten, before I even
got my letter for Hogwarts, my mum was attacked. She-"

"Oh, god, I can't believe... and now I've- with you, and-"

Lavender put a hand over Harry's mouth and continued, "The man wasn't nice. She never told
my dad, but I heard her telling one of her friends. Told her everything, I think, while I was
playing in the other room. But I listened, and.... when puberty started to hit a few months
later, it sort of... became an obsession. I thought I'd hate it, Harry. A girl should hate being
attacked and violated."

"I-"

"No, ssh. Just listen. A girl should. But I... I didn't. I mean, a part of me did, but I knew it was
you, and I... I wanted you to. I didn't fight as hard as I could have. If I'd done what I should
have, I might've gotten away."

"You... let me?"

Harry could not believe it, but Lavender nodded against him again, "I did. And it was... well,
it hurt, and... and I want it again. I must be a slut, because I... I liked it, Harry. I don't think I'd
want it every time. The 'normal' way, with some tenderness and care is probably great, too,
but... sometimes, like I said on the train, I... like it a bit rough."

"A bit," Harry laughed, unable to help himself, "that wasn't a bit. Even if you were willing, I
still raped you, Lavender. How's that okay?"

In response, Lavender rose and turned to face him, then lowered herself to straddle his waist
and took his half-erect cock in hand. "It's okay because I wanted you to. I'm sorry I couldn't
tell you I knew, but would you have gone through with it if you had?"

Harry shook his head, feeling even more confused. "Probably- not."

And why did her hand have to feel so good? He wasn't in the mood (oddly) for sex, not with
everything that had just transpired, yet...

As soon as he was hard enough, which took about ten seconds, Lavender angled him toward
her and sank down, wincing as he entered her again, until she was once more on his lap.
After she had adjusted to his presence inside her body again, the girl tugged open her shirt a
bit more. "Play with me, Harry? I lost my virginity tonight, and I want my lover to be gentle
with me, too."

He was more confused than ever, but even with all his experience Harry was still a teenaged
boy and had a hard time saying no to a gorgeous pair of tits in his face. He reached out,
frowning, to test their heft with his own hands, then started the work of making love to the
same girl he'd just forced himself on.

Lavender sighed as his hands started working her body, and closed hers together behind
Harry's neck. Then she started to rise, wincing again, taking a few seconds to reach the top of
his shaft. Then she sank down again, sighing. "Still tender, but... gods, you feel good in me,
Harry."

"You feel- unh- r- really good, too, Lavender," Harry grunted as she tightened, somehow,
around his length then released, "I... I'm so sorry."

"Stop," she murmured, moving a bit faster and leaning over him to press her lips to Harry's
sweaty forehead, "I've said... I knew it was you, and I did want it. It was... I enjoyed it, Harry,
truly. Just like- like I'm- mmm- enjoying it right-mm- now. Maybe I am a slut... still bloody
and I'm loving my second time."

As she rode his lap, Harry's mind raced even while he enjoyed the girl's body. Magic welled
up within him through the connection with Lilith he had, focused in his soul, and was refined
by his emotions as it moved out of his body through his eyes and mouth, this time with intent.
"Swear you'll be mine," he whispered, lifting his head a bit so his lips brushed against hers as
she rose and fell. "Swear you will be my slave, and I will own you fully. You'll obey my
every command, and I will care for you as a lord cares for a prized servant."
Lavender could see the wisps of light, soft pink-white, rising from Harry's mouth as he spoke,
burning incandescent behind his brilliant green irises, and knew something was happening,
for his words clenched at her heart, her mind, and deep within her body, where the depths of
his cock were brushing. For her, the excitement multiplied five-fold and she started rocking,
too, driving herself up and down with abandon on him as she cried out, "I swear, Harry, I
swear! Make me your slave! Use me, love me, own me!"

His cock swelled, and Lavender gasped, but her motions didn't cease as his erection grew at
least another inch, in fact her motions sped up further still, until her sweaty body shook
uncontrollably in a ferocious climax. Her clenching vagina pulled out Harry's too, and he
filled her to the brim, grunting as he pulled her further down onto him, his massive cock
leaving no room for his equally huge load to go, so that it flooded her ovaries and then
gushed out onto the floor, dribbling down his sack. Before she pulled off, Harry murmured,
"With this, I have claimed your pleasure. It is mine to command."

"Yours," Lavender gasped, then giggled when he lifted her up by the armpits, barely
struggling to stand even while holding her aloft with his new strength.

Harry grinned, turned her around again, and then ordered, "On your hands and knees, slave."

Lavender hesitated a moment, then obeyed. While she moved, Harry focused on returning his
erection to something more like his usual, and even a bit smaller, then took a position behind
her on his knees in the broom-closet. He spat down onto her rear after spreading her cheeks,
then gathered up some of his cum from his own sack, where it hung down in stringy ropes,
and slathered it on too, before prodding at her anus with his cock-head. "N- not there,"
Lavender gasped, "I've never-unhh!"

It wasn't the pained sound Harry had expected her to make as he pushed past the tight
sphincter. In fact, it had melted from a surprised gasp to a murmur of sibilant pleasure before
he'd shoved his manhood more than half-way into the girl's untouched ass."I've claimed your
pleasure," Harry intoned as he started to slowly stroke, "and you will forever gain pleasure
from taking any phallic object in your ass, won't you, slave?"

"Yes, M-Master," the witch cried out, throwing her head back as he started to hump her again,
"my cunt and my ass are yours! Use me!"

"Oh, I will," Harry said with a knowing growl, reaching for her hands and yanking her torso
up a bit by holding her wrists so that Lavender arched outward, her thick, luxurious hair
waving and swinging, covered in salty sweat, as he pounded her virginal bum relentlessly.

After a few more minutes, he felt her squirt, even without touching the girl's genitals directly,
against his thighs. That was Harry's cue to ejaculate himself, filling her lower intestines until
her normally flat stomach started to bulge faintly. Then, hunched over the girl, who panted
beneath him to catch breath long driven from her lungs, he continued, "With this, I claim
your pain and your body. You are mine to do with as I will."

"Yes, M- Master! Yours!"

Her exuberance wasn't lost on Harry, who pulled out, quite erect still, and stood up to lean
back against the wall opposite the door. "Clean my cock with your mouth, slave," he ordered,
"every drop of it. Swallow it all."

"Y- Yes..."

This time, there wasn't hesitation, but Harry could see that Lavender's mind had, somehow,
been clouded, for her eyes shone with the same pink light Romilda's had. But while her
mental breaking had been forced on her, and delivered by him unknowingly and without
control, this time Harry had some inkling of what he was doing. He expected the results
would be somewhere between a Thrall, as Dean now was to Lilith, and the complete
subjugation of Romilda's mind. The shaking in Lavender's single word command was
because she was already licking at his length, using hands and mouth together to scoop up his
essence and shovel it into her orifice. She was clumsy and unused to the detail, but Harry
groaned anyway as she pulled his balls into her mouth to lick them clean, then worked up his
shaft, down his thighs, and finally to the now two puddles on the floor which she sucked up
as well. Despite the disgusting... whatever that had been on the floor, the lust-addled girl
turned her head to Harry and looked up at him with an open mouth, clean of semen.

"Good, slave," he murmured, "Now... you will service me with your mouth. I expect my
slaves to develop a skill for it."

"I've only ever had two boys in my mouth, Master," she whispered, looking suddenly
nervous.

"Then you had best start practicing. Besides, you handled yourself adequately on the train,
slave. Get to it."

Lavender lurched forward onto him, immediately taking Harry's straining dick into her
mouth, and closed both hands around his base, already pumping while the rest of her body
caught up. Then she started sucking powerfully, taking more and more of him into her. "Use
your tongue, slave," he commanded, "lick while you suck."

This time, she obeyed at once, and Harry was treated to the sight of the beautiful girl's
swollen lips being tugged around his cock, and her cheeks hollowing with suction as she did
her best to emulate Hermione's skill. "Deeper," he told her.

She tried gamely, forcing him past her tonsils once, twice, then as many as seven times, but
she gagged on each push, and couldn't seem to break the threshold. So Harry grabbed her by
the head and forced her down onto him, past the angle of her throat, until he was fully buried
in hot wetness again. "Like that, slave," he grunted, pulling off a couple inches then
slamming her all the way back down again, in awe of how amazing the head of his fat cock
felt against her throat as it forced it to open more than food ever could.

Lavender didn't fight back, didn't raise her hands to his thighs. Instead, she shoved one hand
between her legs and started jerking it in tiny circles, and the other fisted against her round
tits, burying two full knuckles into one of them as she screamed around his cock. So Harry
started fucking her face and throat as he had on the train instead, hyper-aware of each ridge
on her tongue as it flexed and moved along the bottom of his shaft, each miniscule bump of
her lips as they sucked on him, and the tighter grasping of her tonsils, the scraping uvula, and
the flexing power of her throat as it tried to swallow him whole. "Come for me, slave."

She did, suddenly, eyes rolling back in her head as her hips jerked wildly, another puddle of
her squirt moving past her fingers to add to the mess on the floor Harry kept shagging her
mouth while she rode through it, then said, "Again."

Immediately, she climaxed for the fourth, maybe fifth time. Another order quickly followed
as she came down from the rush. "When I finish, you'll swallow every drop, even if it lands
on the floor, and you'll come again only when you've gotten the last one. Then you'll go back
to your dorm room, acting perfectly normal and not telling anyone about this whole time in
the cupboard. Next Saturday night, you will know about a rendezvous taking place with some
of our friends. You will be there, and I will reward you with pleasure again."

"Yes, Master," Lavender acknowledged, speaking only after he'd pulled out of her mouth
enough to do so.

"Good. Until then, here is another order, which will stay in place until I say otherwise...
unless I die. You will pleasure yourself for one hour every day before sleep, but you will not
climax. You will not climax until I tell you it is allowed, or I am dead. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," she gurgled at once, as he pushed back in and resumed rutting as if she were a
toy for his pleasure.

Which, I suppose she is now, Harry thought. The knowledge that he may as well own the girl
completely, now that he had effectively enslaved her in truth through his magic should have
filled Harry with guilt. Instead, it only trebled his desire for her. He grunted as the pleasure in
his loins swelled again, and he once more buried himself deep in Lavender's throat. "With-
with this, I claim your servitude. You are mine to command, utterly."

"Mm, mmffrr!"

While he continued to climax and she swallowed over and over again, Harry slowly pulled
her off him, so that his last few spurts landed in her open mouth and over her glorious tits.
"Another standing order," he murmured softly, "if Lyra- Lilith is her real name- isn't present
and you bring me pleasure, you are to clean me with your mouth every time I climax. Begin
now."

This time, she was considerably more practiced and there was less mess, but Harry was still
hard by the time she finished again. Still, he ordered her up anyway. "Dress, slave.
Remember what I've said- nothing happened in this closet, you can tell no one of it, but you
will remember it all. You will obey my commands. And a tidbit, one additional detail. When
you pleasure yourself at night? You are not to close your bed-curtains or silence them. If your
roommates decide to join you, then you may experience climaxes, but only brought about by
them. If that happens, you will report to me the next day at breakfast for further instructions."

"Yes, Master," Lavender said, voice subdued and husky, her throat clearly raw from being so
stretched.
"Good. Now, get going."

She was gone a few seconds later. Harry waited a few more, donned his father's Invisibility
Cloak once more and left, only canceling the muffling charm when he was several corridors
away.
 Fun, Work, and Working for Fun

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

A NOTE: I am also in need of a BETA READER or three. If you want to read this well ahead
of where it is now (I posted 89 on SubStar yesterday...) without being necessarily a Sub, you
can do it that way too. You'd have to catch up quite a ways though. Comment or PM me. :)

Chap. 48: Fun, Work, and Working for Fun.

"Alright, Harry, you said I could borrow your Cloak, right? For the night?"

Harry glanced up from his Potions essay on Thursday afternoon. The Gryffindor Common
Room, where they'd already finished one quick game of chess (three guesses who won), was
nearly empty, with just the few of their class-mates who had the same classes they did
lounging around. It was a chilly, blustery day heralding the onset of Autumn, and a freezing
rain had come down in the night that had drenched the grounds in ice before breakfast.

Hermione was about half-way through her Ancient Runes class with Arithmancy still to go,
and Ginny, if Harry remembered right, was in Defense Against the Dark Arts with Sirius as
her professor.

How did she not mention that for a couple of weeks, anyway?

Harry pushed the stray thought from his head, nodding. "Sure, I don't mind, just don't get it
lost. Who're-" his voice lowered as he glanced around the room, "Who're you gonna go spy
on?"

Ron grinned conspiratorially, "I heard there's a couple trying out a threesome in Hufflepuff
tonight, so I'm gonna see if I can get into the Warren and find out where. Should be a lark
even if I don't find 'em. Maybe I'll sneak into Hannah's room while Neville's up here, yeah?"
Harry snorted, "You have fun, then. But hey, remember that Friday night you've gotta stay in
the Tower for that present on Saturday morning."

Ron's smile returned, brighter yet. "Not gonna tell me what it is, are you?"

"Not until Saturday morning, no. Go on, my trunk should be in the dorm."

Lilith was off somewhere far from the castle for once, doing something about establishing her
'real' credentials as his Social Worker, and wouldn't be back until Saturday morning, or so
she'd said, which was leaving Harry somewhat frustrated. Neither Ginny nor Hermione were
willing to go down on him in the Great Hall, which limited his orgasms per day from about
fifteen on average to six or so. Romilda wasn't yet back, and now that Mandy was... gone,
there were two less girls in the castle. Thinking of Mandy left a sour taste in Harry's mouth,
but it wasn't quite enough to dissuade him from needing relief. To him, now, sex was almost
like eating. He had to, or he would die. At least, it felt like that more often than not.

Lavender's bond with him was one option, but she was currently running some sort of quiz-
game out of Witch Weekly for Parvati and a few of their friends in the years above and below,
and it would be, Harry felt, rude to demand she come shag him just then.

Iris...? No... I'm not in the mood. I wonder... well...

A stray thought Lilith had mentioned flittered through Harry's mind, and he grinned as an
entire realm of possibilities opened before him. While self-pleasure as a man had grown stale
and unsatisfying before he'd summoned Lilith, it had started to renew its pleasure due to lack
of need and new voyeurism opportunities combined. But he didn't want to just copy Ron, so
that was boring still.

Self-pleasure as a girl, though, was still new.

And there was... something else.

But... I'll want privacy, he thought, continuing to plan as he gathered up his schoolwork, the
essay half-finished but not due for a couple days anyway, and went up to his room to stow
away his books, passing Ron, who was grinning from ear-to-ear, in the stairwell, shimmering
cloak half-on already. While there, he pulled a few items out from his trunk, too, shrinking
them down and stowing them in his pockets.

He made another stop at the private quarters, and then headed for the kitchen.

Once the painting with the bowl of fruit had closed behind him, Harry glanced around for his
favorite elf, finding him about forty yards to the left and ahead, tending to a rather sickly-
looking female elf. He hurried over, wending his way through the short, busy creatures that
seemed madly intent on making dinner a success as usual, waving off the three who had
stopped to ask if they could help him.

"Dobby? And... is that Winky?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, Sir, it is Dobby and it is Winky. Dobby is sorry, Sir, but Dobby is very
busy."

"Er..."

Harry could tell he was, for Winky was in terrible shape. There were butterbeer bottles
scattered about, and the female elf swooned, eyes rolling in her head, as she swayed on a
footstool, swathed in more than one thick blanket. "What's... wrong? Can I help?"

"Not without Bonding, Harry Potter Sir," Dobby said quickly, pausing in his work of tending
to the other elf, "Winky is pining for her Master, and doesn't want to get better. Now, she
doesn't even want to work."

Behind him, Harry heard the mass of elves give a single gasp of horror in unison.

"That... that sounds pretty bad," Harry conceded. "But this 'bonding'. What does it mean?"

"She needs a family to serve," Dobby muttered, "and not just any family. One with secrets to
keep, one with... well, one like her old Master's family."

"Winky," the tiny, forlorn figure whispered, "is- hic- a good... elf..."

Maybe it wasn't the right call, and maybe Hermione would be most cross with him, but Harry
had always been prone to snap decisions. "Well, Winky, I need an elf, and I need one in a
hurry. I need a good elf, and a sober one."

Slowly, the watery blue eyes looked up at him.

"If you can be sober, I can bond with you. You can be my elf, Winky."

"Sir... Sir wants Winky?"

He nodded slowly.

The elf swayed on her stool, then fell with a soft crash onto the floor.

Dobby groaned, "Most kind of you, Sir, but Dobby is worried that Winky is... is too drunk to
Bond. If Sir is willing still, could Sir return tomorrow? Dobby will try and get Winky cleaned
up."

"Er... that sounds alright," Harry agreed, "Will.. will she be okay until then?"

The elf nodded unsurely, "Dobby- Dobby thinks so. Winky is very sick, but this will give
Winky hope."

"Okay. Well.. I'll come by as soon as I can after breakfast tomorrow, then," Harry told him,
"Good luck."

Then he turned to the other elves, "Alright, now I need some assistance. Probably just one of
you."
Of course, that meant fifteen or more were vying for his attention in moments, more than
thirty eyes looking up at him, blinking in strange concert.

"Er... I need a few things, like what one would set up for a dorm room. The bed, dresser, all
those sorts of things. Um... including a large, floor-length mirror. Maybe five feet on a side,
the kind you can hang on a wall."

"We's can get these things, Sir," one of the older male elves, the closest one to him in their
jostling, replied, "but where does Sir want them delivered?"

"To- to the Chamber of Secrets."

The elves, as one, gasped. Eventually, the older one, now visibly nervous and twisting his
long fingers together, murmured, "We- it isn't that we's unwilling, Sir, but we's don't know
where that be."

Harry sighed. "Well.. can you follow me, then? I can show you. Then, maybe that one can
show the others?"

The elves cast several more glances among themselves, then the spokesman nodded, "That
sounds agreeable, Sir. So, bedroom things for one, and you will need an elf or two to
accompany you, taking the things down?"

Harry nodded.

"When are you ready to go?"

"Right now."

The elf jumped, and several of them vanished with a pop, returning as if they had coordinated
it somehow, with a disassembled bed frame, clean of dust, a pair of mattresses, and full bed-
things and sheets. Another pair returned with a mirror as he'd described, a twin to the new
one in his room though this one had no crack in it, and the familiar style of dresser and
wardrobe combination followed, this time brought by three elves. All of the items were
quickly shrunken down and placed in an empty pot, which began to hover over the
spokesman's head. "I is ready, Sir," the older elf supplied.

Harry nodded, "Well... follow me, then. Er... can you take people with Elf-apparition? Inside
Hogwarts?"

The old elf frowned, shaking his head so his long ears flopped, "We can, but we isn't being
allowed, Sir."

"Alright, then," Harry shrugged, "It isn't that far. We can walk, it's just up on the second
floor."

Since many students were still in classes and the rest were working on homework so they
could have the evening free, the halls were empty aside from Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat,
who hissed and fled as Harry approached, no doubt to warn her owner that there was a
student out of place, as if she'd known Harry's schedule in the first place.
But Filch was still nowhere in sight as Harry blithely walked into Moaning Myrtle's
bathroom. She wasn't present, as far as he could tell after checking the stalls, so he hissed at
the proper sink, and the elf gaped in amazement as it opened.

"Alright," Harry told him, "Now, we're going to fly down. We can slide, it's safe, but it's
really dirty. Hop on my broom, and please don't freak out about it."

The elf was shocked, seeming terrified by Harry's command, but it quickly climbed up
behind him, and fisted two small hands in his robes as Harry started to move down, lighting
the way with his wand held against the broom-shaft.

Since the elf was clearly scared, Harry kept up a calm commentary, starting with, "What's
your name, anyway? I'm Harry."

The elf, who he could tell was female only by the shape of truly miniscule breasts pressing
into his back, whimpered, "I- I is Maggi, sir!"

"Well, good to meet you, Maggi. Anyway, once we get down there we'll be passing a messy
area and then we'll be into the Chamber after we go through a door I have to unlock like the
sink. The actual Chamber of Secrets is past that door. It's messy, but my friend Dobby has
been cleaning it, so it won't be too bad. We'll put the furniture in there. Once it's arranged,
you can go back and tell the others how to get here if you want."

"Y-y-yes, s-sir!"

The elf was clearly terrified, but the cauldron hovering over both their heads remained steady
as they descended smoothly. He paused for dramatic effect before the door, but the elf only
stared at it with eyes wide enough to reflect the snake designs on it in his wand-light. "Oh,
and, erm, don't freak out about the basilisk. It's dead."

"B-B-B-"

The elf lasted three seconds before swaying and fainting. Harry only just caught the cauldron
before it squashed her. "Should've seen that coming... Dobby?"

For once, his friend did not show up. "Oh, yeah, I asked him to help Winky. Eh, whatever. I
can carry them in." He set the cauldron to the side and used his wand to levitate Maggi into
the Chamber and down onto the much cleaner floor. In fact, as he stared around, the Chamber
was remarkably different than when he'd last seen it.

The snake motif was still at the core of the decorating of course, and the face of Salazar
Slytherin dominated the rear wall, but that was all that remained as Harry had first seen it.
There were still some traces of green in the cracks on the walls, but the stones and tiles that
made up the surfaces were scoured clean of any sort of detritus, mold, mildew, or other stain.
The statuary serpents that lined the reflecting pools were polished white marble once more,
and the pools themselves ran with clear water so that Harry could see with a glance that
actual lake plants and even fish occupied the feature. And the green-tinted flames that had
once lit the Chamber, back when he had battled the shade of Tom Riddle were gone, too.
Now the torches burned with a soft golden light, more like natural sunlight. "Dobby... you are
amazing..."

Harry continued to turn slowly several times, taking in every detail of the massive hall that he
could. There were still, he noticed, a few signs of battle. The skeleton did indeed still lay
half-inside the great pool it had been in when he struck it down with the sword of Godric
Gryffindor. Many of the tiles were smashed and shattered by its death-throes, or the thrashing
it had done as Fawkes the Phoenix had plucked out its maleficent eyes. And good riddance to
it. I don't mind snakes, the statues are even pretty cool like this instead of creepy, but that was
just... not fun.

"S- s-sir...?"

"Oh, you're awake. Welcome back, Maggi. Are you alright?"

The elf was sitting up on her skinny rump, rubbing her eyes as she peered around the room,
but mostly at the colossal skeleton a hundred or so feet away. "Is... is that...?"

"The basilisk? Yeah. It's dead, see? No reason to worry."

"S- Sir... fought... that?"

Harry grinned. Once, the awe in the creature's voice would've made him burn with
embarrassment. Now, it only filled him with a sense of pride in whatever skill he had
demonstrated that night (or sheer determination, if he were honest with himself), and the luck
that had carried him through. "Yep. Close thing, too. If Dumbledore's Phoenix hadn't saved
me, it'd have finished me off. See? It bit me right here as I stabbed it in the mouth."

The elf, even sitting, swayed once more, but Harry threw himself to his knees and grabbed
her about the shoulders, "Hey, it's alright, it's alright. I'm fine, you're fine, the Basilisk is
dead. My friend, Dobby? The one that's been taking care of Winky?"

"Maggi- Maggi knows Dobby, Sir. All the Elves of Hogwarts know Dobby and Winky. They
is... they is weirdos, Sir!"

The emphasized word was said in a low hiss, as if the female elf would catch the same
disease simply by mentioning it. Harry only laughed, "Maybe, but Winky was punished for
doing what her Master ordered her to do, as far as I know, and Dobby... well, yeah, he's a bit
odd, but I like him. Anyway, he's been cleaning this up. Done a great job, too."

"Dobby has... Dobby has been doing extra work?"

"Yep, work for me."

"Oh. Maggi... Maggi did not know that. Maybe Dobby has not been shirking work when he
vanishes from the kitchens."

"He also said he's been assigned to our staff rooms. He's done a great job there, too."

"Oh..."
"Anyway," Harry chirped, pushing himself up with a hand on his knee, "Let's get to work,
shall we? I was thinking of setting everything up in this corner right here, by the mirror. The
other one, I want right behind it, free-standing. Or maybe we can lean it on the dresser back
or something if we need to."

Maggi blinked twice, her eyelids taking almost a half-second to cross her massive orbs and
return, "Sir- Sir will be sleeping in this bedroom, Sir?"

"Oh, no," Harry laughed, waving off her concern, "Maybe napping, but not sleeping. The
bed's for other things. The dresser is for convenience. Eh, don't worry about it. Just help me
set it up, okay?"

"Okay, Sir."

Over the next ten minutes, which was all it took, they returned each piece of furniture back to
its regular size and levitated it into place so that as one entered the Chamber of Secrets, there
was a nice, comfortable bed area, complete with a few rugs that Maggi popped out and
returned with after suggesting it to Harry. Once the work was done, Harry spent a few more
minutes in the Chamber, pacing around the main room to find two more doors past the semi-
circular walk around the pool the Basilisk had emerged and died from. He didn't try to open
either, given that he was alone and no one even knew he was down there aside from Maggi,
but he reminded himself again to set to exploring it soon once his friends were around.

On his way out, Harry took the few steps necessary to close the door, watching as it locked
him inside, then went to the dresser, and started stripping, almost ripping his clothes off in his
haste, before he went to stand by the mirror, utterly nude.

The stones were cold against his feet, but Harry felt a warmth in his body he could not deny,
and even without females present, he was fully erect and ready for his plan to proceed.

As he watched himself in the mirror, his body began to change.

It was faster, now, and in less than thirty seconds the stunning figure of the person Harry now
thought of as his maybe unborn sister stood in front of the mirror instead.

Iris stretched, admiring herself, then watched in the glass as she lifted one of her breasts to
her mouth and suckled at the nipple, mouthing it with her lips until it was hard, before sliding
a hand down her body to slip between her folds. She quickly pushed two fingers into herself,
curling them up against her g-spot, already breathing rapidly as she imagined Ginny going
down on her, Ron filling her, then Lyra fucking her with her own brother's cock, and...

Iris gasped as she climaxed around her fingers, falling to her knees on the stone floor, unable
to focus her eyes on even her own delicious image until the crest had passed. Once it was
done, she slowly pulled forth her fingers and pushed them into her mouth, relishing her own
strawberry-tang taste, and pushed herself back to her feet. Still rubbing her cunt, Iris walked
on shaky legs back to her clothing and picked up Harry's trousers, carrying them by the waist
over to the bed, which faced the mirror per her instructions, climbing up to sit against the
headboard and pushing two of the pillows behind her back to soften it.
Then she reached into Harry's pockets and pulled out the shrunken form of a familiar purple
dildo. Once it was at full size again, she tapped it to turn on the vibration function, and
without further preamble, shoved it up into her body.

In the silence of the Chamber, Iris cried out in pleasure as she was filled with the massive
phallus. It was both more stimulating and yet less personal than having Ron inside her, and
Iris decided within the first few seconds that she legitimately had no preference either way, as
long as it felt this good, made her this warm and full inside.

But Iris wasn't done, for Harry had come down here for self-pleasure, yes, but also a bit of
experimentation.

So, breathing heavily, Iris looked down between her full breasts at her shivering crotch, the
bottom inch of the dildo held in by the mattress, and focused on her body itself. How it felt,
how each sensation from the full roundness of her breasts to the occasional twitch as the
dildo wriggled within her core, and the high-frequency vibrations coaxed more and more
pleasure from her. How her entire body seemed on fire with need, but how that part was a
particularly bright, white-hot inferno of lust, even as she felt another wave of satisfaction
approach.

How good it felt to have a cock in her mouth... How good Harry felt when his was in
someone else's.

Her body changed, slowly at first.

But as the bulge, just a bump really, began to appear from the skin over her clit, Iris' eyes
widened and her respiratory rate increased. The bump grew larger, darkening to purple and
changing in texture as it grew out, mushroom-like, from her body. Longer... longer. It was
Harry's own size, his original... and bigger. Bigger, bigger, until a cock the size of Lilith's
sprung from her. As she relaxed, it thumped against Iris' chest, landing just below her chin,
the hot tip pressing into her throat with its gentle curve.

This time, she'd remembered to strengthen her heart and lungs, too, to allow the massive
addition to her body to exist without causing a precipitous drop in her blood pressure.

She still felt like she wanted to pass out, but not from that.

Instead, as Iris looked she could not decide if she wanted to see herself in the mirror, or just
look down her body at the gargantuan limb, as long as Harry's lower arm, that lay against her
stomach and between her tits. She shivered, slowly bringing up a hand next to the head,
looking down to see... her fist was almost the exact same size as the head.

Reaching down, one hand didn't go more than a tiny bit past half-way around her cock, but
she pushed it away just a little, then tilted her head down to lick at the salty, glistening slit on
the top.

She shivered again, moaning, and closed her mouth over it, suckling at the tip. Her tongue
laved around in circles around her lips, and she gasped, the pleasure shooting from her core
up the curve of her spine and sending a shockwave through her whole body. She wanted
more...

It was so kinky, so strange, but...

Slowly, the penis thinned, narrowed about a half-inch in diameter, and that extra mass added
length. Iris opened her mouth wide, and shoved the whole head of her dick into it, closing her
lips as she'd learned from Lilith, then Hermione, and finally from her own limited practice,
and inhaled. Oh, Merlin, I'm sucking my own dick... Gods, why does it feel so good?

Iris started to bob, still unable to get more than the head into her mouth because of the angle,
and reached down to run one of her hands up and down the shaft, pressing it into her body
and between her full, hard tits. The other hand, meanwhile, slid further down, brushing over
the clit that now sat at the base of her cock and slipped a finger into her folds alongside the
dildo, gasping as the pleasure made the member in her mouth jump.

As her finger started to pump, her hips began to thrust involuntarily. That pushed her cock
into her mouth further and further as she slid down the bed. Iris choked when the tip hit her
mouth, then instinctively relaxed and pushed, pushed, until she gagged and coughed on
herself, and pushed again.

Pop.

She didn't know how she hadn't already lost control, for the ecstasy her body felt was truly
incredible. Fingering herself when aroused as she'd ever been, throat-fucking herself, giving
herself a half-assed tit-job, too...

Still, Iris wanted more.

Without conscious thought, her spine separated painlessly, becoming almost insectoid in how
it was built, and she suddenly found herself able to stretch and move in inhuman ways. Iris'
brilliant green eyes rolled back in her head as the cock sank further into her mouth. It hurt,
for she was huge, but it also felt so, so good, and she didn't want to stop, not ever stop, not
even after she came, and-

The first pulse washed up from invisible, or even non-existent, testicles to blast past the
barrier of her madly-stroking hands, past her lips, still tightly sealed around her shaft about
four inches below the fist-sized head, past the curve of her throat, and out... or in, depending
on which end you were talking about. For Iris could also feel each shot as it hit her esophagus
at an angle, practically punching against the surface of the spongy flesh and ricocheting down
further, to pool and land in her stomach. Even that knowledge, that indescribable feeling
enhanced her orgasm, extending it, driving her mad.

She humped faster, further, harder, every drive of her hips bringing out pleasure for her cock,
making the dildo in her cunt shake and writhe, feeding her mouth with dick, and it was
always more, more.

She came again, and again.

Each load made her stomach feel more full and hot, but Iris didn't care.

It was too much, too sexy, too hot, too much, and still she wanted more.

On her next orgasm, the seventh or maybe seventeenth, Iris' body couldn't hold out, and she
collapsed, limp, reclined against sweat-damp pillows on the squirt-wet bed, gasping for air
and completely unconscious. Asleep, she burped, sending a full tablespoon of her semen
flying upward to splatter onto her chest.

While Iris slept, Lilian Vergot worked. Idly, she contemplated how easy it was to cut through
the red tape of beauracracy with a blow-job, to grease the wheels of government with girl-
cum, and otherwise to make life easier if you had no sexual hangups whatsoever, and little
thought to consequences.

Sure, she'd been with no fewer than sixteen Muggles that day of various genders, but as far as
Her Majesty's Government was now concerned, Lilian Vergot had been a model student
(aside from some inappropriate actions with peers, most of which were not beyond the norm
at her age) through lower and higher education. Then she'd gone on to get her social work
degree, passing with flying colors thanks to one Professor's not too-hidden habit of shagging
his prettier students (not that that part was reflected in her exam results), and had been Harry
James Potter, of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey's Social Worker since
July of the previous year.

And it was only four in the afternoon. She still had time for a few more rounds with anyone
needing extra encouragement, and an hour of the work-day without even pushing into
overtime.

She knocked on the door of Number Four itself, then stepped inside without waiting for
someone to answer, for she could hear there wouldn't be an answer coming. Indeed, the
gorgeous, professionally-dressed Succubus had all-but ensured that Petunia Dursley would be
quite a bit too busy to answer the door.

Her neighbors, her clients, were men with needs, after all, and a small dose of dust from her
wings was all it took anymore before the neighborhood's best-known prostitute (at least for
the older crowd) had men literally waiting in the wings of her living room for a turn over her
kitchen table.

Lilian gave the group of three men a wave, sending each of them reeling with another shake
of her invisible wings and a commanding look, knowing that it was more than enough
combined to keep them waiting, and from disturbing her own work.

The man she knew as Mr. Urban, from Goshawk Row a few streets away, was already
sweating and nearly finished with his half-hour's diversion when Lilian stepped into the
room. He didn't even notice her presence as she reached up to tap his sweaty neck, sending
him into immediate, powerful orgasm.

Then as he limply stumbled away after having dropped fifty pounds- a good tip included- in
the jar on the table beneath the phone, Lilian looked over Harry's aunt. She had been
attractive enough, once, the Succubus mused, but years of being an utter bitch to more than
just her Master had drained almost all the kindness out of her, and with it much of her looks.
She wasn't hideous, for a woman in her mid forties, but would never be truly attractive again.
Instead, she only looked up at Lilian with glassy eyes and a somewhat disapproving scowl, as
if daring her to disapprove while she slowly pushed up onto her elbows, closed her house-
robe- all she wore much, anymore- and slid off the table, not bothering to clean the mess the
man had made from between her legs. "What do you want?"

Lilian smiled, setting her attaché on the cleanest spot on the table and opening it,
withdrawing several papers. "You are giving up custody of your ward, Harry James Potter, to
me on a temporary basis. He will be in my care until the school year ends, at which time I
will have a suitable home ready for him. The foster parent has already agreed."

Petunia scowled, reaching for a cup of coffee, something she'd never have tolerated in her
house until after Vernon had entered Hospital. Now, she needed the caffeine to keep up with
her clients. Someone had to pay the bills, especially since Petunia would not allow her
lifestyle to be lowered by… that freakish tragedy that had been dropped on her doorstep years
before. Vernon’s income had dropped to zero, and she flat-out refused to rely entirely on the
hand-outs of the government her husband so despised. She was not a pauper, no matter what
her household budget looked like these days. Still, there was some good news at least. "You
mean the fr- the boy- will be gone? He's not coming back?"

once his insurance ran out.

"No," Lilian assured her, "except to visit. It seems he and your son have built some sort of
relationship. But no, once you sign these forms, Harry Potter will no longer live here. In fact,
I'm taking his belongings with me. All of them."

Petunia nodded. "All... I take it you already know I've more, then."

The Succubus nodded.

She hadn't, really, but had her suspicions, and the woman's statement had confirmed it. "He
has more claim to his mother's old things than you do."

Petunia sniffled, nodding. "I'll... sign. As long as he's out of my life. I don't care if he visits
Dudders, but I... I can't stand to see him. Knowing... knowing what he..."

"What he did?"

The woman nodded again.

"What he did," Lilian reminded her softly, "was expose lies and bring hidden things into the
open. What he did was help turn your son, who would have grown up into a monster like
your husband only worse, into a half-decent human being. What Harry did, was speak the
truth. You've seen his scars, on his hand?"

Petunia nodded once more, reaching for her coffee again to hide her newest frown. "Ghastly."
"Yes... but he learned that lesson well. Sign."

Petunia reached for Lilian's offered pen, and started putting her name on each of the sixteen
sheets necessary as the blonde Succubus went through them.

Once she was done, Lilian stacked the papers neatly and put them away. "Thank you. As a
final gift before I go, with the understanding that if Harry visits I likely will as well, I am
going to take care of your clients for you, and you will get the money. You don't have to do
this today. In fact, I'm going to do you one better."

Even Lilith felt a little guilty as she leaned in to kiss Petunia, knowing that Harry would be
bothered by it at least a little, but the sudden release of much pent-up sexual tension in the
woman as she experienced the first truly good orgasm she'd had in weeks of open
prostitution, or years of marriage, wracked her body.

Then Lilian, as she stepped past the waiting men, blew a kiss to the room, leaving all four
with a sudden mess in their pants and the memory of having spent a most agreeable time with
their neighbor, and the need to leave her a very good tip indeed.

One more quick stop, the Succubus thought, turning left and crossing the street after letting
one car pass. The older woman driving sent her a look of jealousy, which only made Lilian’s
smile grow.

She found Dudley, looking fit and healthy, practicing a few boxing moves with both Jill and
Penny from Number Twelve, all three of them in gym-wear, in the open garage of Number
Twelve. The two girls shared an easy familiarity with the boy, now sixteen himself, one that
Lilian identified immediately as that between lovers. There was also a bit of jealousy between
the sisters, which was understandable, but she could probably help with that. "Excuse me,
Mr. Dursley?"

Dudley looked away from where he was showing the smaller girl how to do a proper jab
while her sister watched carefully with a frown. "Er, oh, uh- hi. Um... y- yeah, that's- well,
that's my dad. You can call me Dudley, Mrs. Verbott."

"Vergot," Lilian corrected gently, smiling to show she wasn't offended, "I'm surprised you
remember me, it's been a little while. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"Er..." Dudley, to his credit, glanced at the sisters, who both shrugged, though once his back
was turned, sent her a short glare as he stepped out into the sun. It was still a cool day, but
further south there was no storm, only a bit of a breeze. "What can I do for you?"

"I mostly just came to inform you of a few things, and to let you know that once you reach
the age of majority, eighteen in your case, your cousin has set something up for you."

"Er... Harry?"

She nodded, "Yes, that's the one. As you might remember, I'm not just Mr. Potter's case-
worker, but also a legal representative, and it's largely in that capacity that the second matter
was set up. The first, though, is more pressing. Mr. Potter, Harry, will no longer be living
with your Aunt as of today. She just signed the final paperwork. It's my understanding that
you would not object to maintaining your own relationship with Harry, is that right?"

"Er, no, I wouldn't," Dudley said, surprised, "I... he saved my life. I... kind of feel like I owe
him."

"Perhaps," Lilian said softly, "but Harry feels like it was his duty, so that's something to be
discussed between you."

He nodded, blushing, and glancing back at the girls in the garage, who still watched intently
even though they were just a few feet away.

"Remember though, Harry is his own man. I work for him, and it is your parents he wishes to
sever ties with, not you. He found you worth saving. Take advantage of that chance he gave
you, won't you? And..." She leaned in close, looking over his shoulder at the girls, "Treat
those two and their mother well. Show them they don't have to be jealous, and they'll both
stay with you, I think."

Dudley's eyes widened, "How did you- I mean, I, uh-"

She giggled quietly at his scarlet face, "Relax, Dudley, I'm hardly one to judge, shagging my
own boss, you know? Maybe try letting them enjoy each other. You don't have to take turns if
you're all active together... And they could use some good tension release. The funeral wasn't
that long ago, right? They'll be missing their father, and need some comfort. Their mother
will be lonely, too, if you want her as well."

As the dumbstruck boy returned to his girlfriends (or whatever), Lilian walked away,
whistling to herself, back to the car she'd gotten as a 'test drive' for her first blow-job of the
day near Number Four. I'm glad my plans are taking root quickly. Enjoy your sex-life, Dudley,
and thank Harry when you see him...

"Harry? Where are you going? Where've you been?"

He glanced toward the sleepy Hermione, who had clearly fallen asleep waiting for him to
return to the suite. She was in a nightshirt that had fallen off one shoulder, her hair mussed
and tousled. Someone had taken the effort to drape a blanket across her, but that had pooled
around her waist as she stared through the darkness.

With his Succubus-granted vision, he had seen her when he had entered the room, but hoped
to go about his business without waking her, for it was very early in the morning. "Sorry," he
replied quietly, "I fell asleep doing... some work in the Chamber of Secrets. Dobby and I have
been, uh, cleaning it out."

"Why?" she asked, rubbing one hand against her eyes, "What time is it, anyway?"

Knowing she would prefer the accuracy, the wizard glanced at the watch he'd been given for
his sixteenth before answering. "Er... it's two-forty-five. As for where I'm going, to run
another errand. Don't worry, I'll be around for breakfast. I just fell asleep down there, and I'm
not tired anymore so I woke up."

"You fell asleep in the Chamber of Secrets?" she hissed, "That's- that's dangerous, Harry!"

"Keep it down," he reminded her, waving a hand toward the other rooms, "The others are
probably sleeping. And no, not really. We've been there a few times, there's no other monster.
No Basilisk eggs, nothing like that. Just a skeleton and a lot of cleaning already done."

Even in the dark, he could see the girl's eyes narrow before she yawned, "You really aren't
tired?"

"Not a bit. Feel like I had a full night's rest."

"And you're sure it's safe?"

"Very sure. I'll take Lilith if you want, but I'll have Dobby with me. I'm going to the kitchens
now, then the Chamber."

She frowned now, clearly fighting another yawn, "Why there?"

"Food, for one, and for another, Winky."

She blinked. "Crouch's elf?"

Harry scowled, "Not anymore, remember? She works at Hogwarts... well, she doesn't exactly
work much. I'm going to help her, though."

"How- how're you going to-"

"I'm Bonding her to my House, of course. Dobby says it's the only way to keep her healthy."

Even at nearly three in the morning, Harry expected Hermione to go around the twist after
hearing the first part of that statement, and to barely register the second. Yet she blinked a
few times, then nodded. "At least you'll treat her fairly, right?"

"That's the plan," he agreed, "Anyway, I'll see you later. Maybe I'll bring my Cloak and be the
one to get you your morning fun."

"Don't tempt me, Harry," she groaned, "Because my exhibitionist streak isn't strong enough
for that. Just be careful."

"Will do, lover."

She sighed with amused exasperation as she threw off the blanket, but didn't let go. After a
shiver in the cool air, she wrapped it around herself and then stood up, "I'm going to bed.
Good night. Or morning, whatever."

"Good night, Hermione," he chuckled, then headed for his room to gather the Invisibility
Cloak.
Not a minute later, after noting a nude Ginny on his mussed bedspread with a Lyra-shaped
divot between her legs and a puddle between them, Harry left the suite, locking it behind
him.

A few minutes more found him stepping through the portrait-hole after tickling a certain pear
near the Hufflepuff Common Room.

At this hour, the kitchens were dark, and the row of massive ovens were shuttered, though a
dim orange glow still came through the cracks in the grates. Only two torches, one on either
end of the massive room, provided more light. The four long tables, mirrors for the Great
Hall above, were empty, and only one elf moved through the room, wiggling fingers at one
small mess or another. When it heard him shut the door, however, it vanished with a quiet
pop to appear in front of him.

Again, he saw the same creature he'd taken into the Chamber of Secrets just the day before.
"Maggi, right?" he said with a cheerful smile.

The female elf shuddered, looking up at him with a scared expression, "Yes, Sir, Maggi be
my name. We- we be going down to the scary place again?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Harry reassured her, "I'm just looking for Dobby and Winky. I
was told to come find them today. Is it too early? I was trying to come before you start
working on breakfast. I know you get busy around then."

"No, it not be early," Maggi frowned, "it be time for Elves to be waking. But why does Sir
need Dobby and Winky? Those- those weirdos not be- not be good Elves, Sir."

Harry frowned slightly, which made the other creature take a half-step back. "Well, I happen
to think they're fine. Dobby is my friend, and Winky... has been very mistreated, like I said
the other day. Besides, it's my intention to Bond Winky to my House. I wouldn't do that if she
was a bad elf, right?"

"Sir... Sir would not?"

She didn't sound very sure, but Harry ignored that to smile down at her, "Exactly. So... if it's
not too early, where can I find them?"

Maggi sighed, "This way, Sir. Maggi will take you."

Even while they walked across the kitchen to a small door Harry hadn't ever noticed on his
earlier trips, an elf-sized one, she kept cleaning with her magic. Once they reached the door,
she lifted a hand, "Wait here, Sir, Maggi will return with them in a moment."

She didn't use the door. Instead, she popped away, returning with Dobby, who was naked, and
dripping with soapy water.

"Dobby? Why are you-"

The little elf looked up at Harry without shame, "Harry Potter Sir calls Dobby?"
Before he could answer, and equally soapy and naked Winky appeared, too, with Maggi on
her flank, a hand touching the other elf. The one he'd been talking to shook her head and
walked away, muttering something about weird Sirs and their weirder friends.

"Er..."

Harry had never thought about an Elf in a sexual fashion, even after realizing Maggi was
female after feeling her small chest against his back while they flew down to the Chamber of
Secrets the previous day.

Seeing a naked Winky did little to change that, for he found the creatures, while humanoid,
just odd-looking in their proportions. But it was also obvious that Dobby found the female elf
quite attractive, given the tiny little erection he sported within a few seconds of spotting the
equally nude Winky.

But Dobby resolutely ignored her, looking back at Harry and keeping his gaze there
expectantly, even while he sported wood and dripped suds onto the kitchen floor with a
miniscule washcloth in hand. "The Great Harry Potter Sir called for Dobby...?"

Harry sighed, unable to look away from Winky as she blinked up at him expectantly, too.
Like Dobby, she seemed to have no care for her nakedness, for she didn't hide herself. She
did sway a little as she stood, and winced when he spoke.

"Winky, I... Dobby said you'd be alright to Bond to my House today. Is... that alright?"

Slowly, still dripping, Winky nodded once, clearly not daring to speak.

"Excellent. Well, I'm sorry to interrupt your baths. I'll just wait while you get ready."

A moment later, both Elves were gone.

"Maybe they are weird," Harry muttered under his own breath, "Winky's elf-pussy might be
tighter than even Lilith could manage, but as small as Dobby was it makes sense. No way I'd
hit it, though. It'd hurt."

There was not a lot, he could honestly say, that Harry would not use to get off these days, at
least if it was vaguely female. But a House-Elf was strictly out.

Now, if someone were to find me a Tolkien-style elf... that, I'd be more into, he mused
inwardly with a smile.

Just a couple minutes later, both Winky and Dobby popped back to him, dressed once again
in the Hogwarts Tea-Towels. Winky was much more put-together looking than he'd ever seen
her, for even on the night they'd first met, when she was Bartemius Crouch Sr.'s Elf, Winky
had been traipsing through the dark woods in search of her master's Death Eater son.

Now, though, her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her ears clean and straight, though
her eyes still swam with the remnants of butterbeer. She was more sober, though, he thought.
"Alright, so... what do we have to do? If you want to go through with it still, of course. I
won't force you, Winky, and if you ever want to leave my service, I will allow you to."

She shuddered, but said nothing, only staring up at him.

Dobby volunteered, stepping forward, "Harry Potter, Sir! Dobby knows what to do! The
Great Harry Potter must ask Winky to be his Elf, Sir! To keep his Secrets, and to serve his
House, Sir!"

"And... then what?"

Dobby blinked twice. "That... that be all, Sir."

It was Harry's turn to repeat the gesture. "What? That's it?"

Dobby nodded, "Then Winky must promise to do those things, Sir, and it be done. Then
Harry Potter Sir can give Winky instructions, Sir."

"Oh. That's... that's easy."

Dobby nodded, "Wizards not be liking to do extra work, Sir, so they be making the magic
work easy. But it will help Winky, Sir."

Harry nodded, then turned to the female. "Winky. Do you want to serve me and my House, to
keep its secrets as my Elf?"

Slowly, very slowly, Winky nodded, her huge eyes unblinking as she stared up at him, "W-
Winky- Winky wants that, Sir," she whispered.

"Alright, then. Do you promise to obey my wishes? To keep my secrets, all of them? Do you
promise to obey the wishes and keep the secrets of those I bring into my House, except when
they conflict with my wishes?"

He'd taken a whole thirty seconds coming up with the promise, but Harry thought he'd done
alright.

Winky nodded again, then whispered, "Winky promises to- to serve House- House Potter.
She promises to obey the Great Harry Potter Sir's wishes, and those of his House, except
when it be against his wishes. Winky- Winky promises to keep Master's secrets, and to keep
the secrets of his House unless he says otherwise. Winky promises all this."

Dobby smiled widely, "There. Winky be your Elf, Harry Potter, Sir."

At once, the elf swayed, a dopey-looking grin spreading across her face. Then she fell, hitting
the stones of the kitchen with a quiet thud.

Dobby sighed, "Sir, does Dobby have your permission to put Winky back to bed, Sir? She be
very hung-over, Sir. Dobby will put her back to work here until you call for her, Sir, so she
stays busy."
"Er, yeah, thanks, Dobby," Harry murmured, "Is... she going to be okay?"

Dobby nodded vigorously, his long ears flapping, "Yes, Sir, but Harry Potter, Sir is kind for
asking! Dobby will take care of her, and the soap-mess, Sir!"

A moment later, after two snaps of his fingers, both elves were gone.

Harry looked at his hands. Strange, I don't look or feel any different. I don't feel like a slave-
owner, either. Then again... maybe I'm just used to it, after summoning Lilith? It's not quite
the same thing, but... I don't know. No use worrying about it now.

With a quick look around, Harry spotted Maggi again, who was making her way down the
long row of ovens, opening the grates one by one and stoking the flames. "Excuse me,
Maggi. I'm done talking to Winky and Dobby. Any chance I can get a bit of a bite?"

The twenty minutes or so Harry spent eating before returning to the suite for a bit of fun with
Ginny were well-spent, but he didn't have time that morning to make good on his teasing of
Hermione, for she was late and sleepy-eyed still when she made it to breakfast herself, and
then classes began all too soon.
 Coming Clean

TW: Aftermath of violence, and the morally darkest point of Harry's life (Mandy, several
chapters ago, and what happened to her- and why). If you feel he got off scott-free, well...
there's reasons for that.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 49: Coming Clean

Harry leaned over to Neville during lunch on Saturday, taking the opportunity of a rather
crowded weekend meal to provide some cover. "Hey, Nev. We're thinking of putting on Ron's
second Rune-set tonight, maybe a bit of other fun too. You interested?"

Harry grinned to see his friend's eyes widen and darken simultaneously with lust as he
glanced around at their circle of friends, then over to the Hufflepuff table where Hannah was
chatting animatedly with Susan Bones. "Er, I could probably be persuaded, I think. Hannah's-
well, since she got the Runes, we're back to where we started. She always wants more'n I can
spare time for."

"Good. In that case, we'll have-"

Harry's words were cut off by a very wane-looking Professor McGonagall slamming the staff
entrance of the Great Hall open and moving toward Dumbledore at a near-run. By the time
she reached the Headmaster, every student's eyes were on her. She whispered for only a few
seconds, swaying on her feet as the old man's countenance darkened. He whispered
something back.

Their Head of House nodded once firmly, then hurried from the room again while
Dumbledore, looking more tired than Harry could remember seeing him before, pushed
himself slowly to his feet and took his place at the podium.

"Students, it appears I have the sad duty of providing another grave announcement. Another
student has gone missing, Vicky Frobisher, a fifth-year Gryffindor."
Dumbledore allowed several seconds for dark rumblings to move through the student body in
multiple waves, but Harry suddenly had eyes for only one person as his keen vision suddenly
narrowed down to a single point.

Ginny.

Her own face was aghast, pale, almost sallow, as she stared not at Harry, but at Dumbledore.

Vicky was her roommate, and even, Harry knew, something of a friend.

Worse, Harry knew what Malfoy and his cronies had used Mandy for before they killed her.
He could not allow that to happen again.

"And so," Dumbledore continued once Harry's attention returned to the present, though his
cheeks continued to buzz with oxygen deprivation due to his own shock, "If anyone has any
idea, any clue, where the missing girls may have gone, I implore you to come forward to any
staff member, in public or private. As well, I expect we will have an Auror presence within
the school by the end of the day until the culprit or culprits are apprehended. If those culprits
do come forward on their own, I will press for as much clemency as I can. Thank you."

Harry spared one more glance toward the Headmaster, then sent a longer look toward the
Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for fifth year and down. Sirius was not looking at
Harry, though, until he muttered to his friends, "Ron, Lil- Lyra, with me. The rest of you, see
what information you can find. Ask Lavender or Parvati to start."

Given the situation, even Ron didn't do more than grab one more sandwich to eat on the way
to wherever they were going, and the three joined several groups of students who were
suddenly streaming out to find friends who hadn't yet arrived at lunch, just to be safe.

They did not make it past the second floor before Sirius appeared before them, his cleanly-
pressed robes and hair done back in a neat tail making him almost unrecognizable from the
way he had appeared in Harry's third year. "Unless I'm mistaken, all your friends are in the
Great Hall, Harry."

The younger wizard frowned, "Not all, actually, but that's not what we're doing."

Sirius's mouth turned to something like a grimace, and he beckoned for Harry to follow them
away from the crowd and into a less-used hallway. His low growl told Harry just how
worried Sirius really was, doing a lot to encourage a bit of patience on his end. "So why're
you lot rushing off, then? What do you know?"

"We don't know much," Harry told him, "but what we do know, I'll have to tell you later. I'm
sorry, Sirius, but we can maybe stop this now. Come with us if you need to, but we can't
wait."

Sirius let him stew for a few more seconds, then nodded, "Alright, alright, Lead the way."

Then he waved his wand and incanted, "Expecto Patronum." As the large, shaggy silvery dog
appeared, he said quietly, "Dumbledore. Harry and his friends know something. I'm with
them."

As they moved, Harry sent him an annoyed look, but his godfather only shrugged, "It's my
job, Harry. I'm supposed to protect the students above all else. What would you do in my
place?"

Harry sighed, "Same damned thing, I suppose. It... well, it doesn't necessarily paint me in a
good light, but I didn't do it. You have to believe me."

"I do, kiddo, I do," Sirius waved his concern off, "I know you wouldn't do something like
that."

Except that I did, Harry thought to himself quietly.

It took about two minutes more to reach the seventh floor, they were hurrying so fast. At first,
Sirius looked at Harry like he was crazy while Ron struggled just a bit to catch his breath, but
as the door appeared, he muttered, "We never found this room. It's not on the Map."

"Neither is the Chamber of Secrets," Harry reminded him, "but I've been there, too."

Sirius sent Harry another concerned look, "We're going to have a long chat soon, Harry. A
very long one. So what're we walking into?"

Harry shook his head, "A mess, mostly. Come on, we haven't got time to-"

But Sirius cut him off with an arm across the double doors, catching Harry in the chest. He
could've pushed through, but the older man's sheer authority made him pause. "I am not
letting you walk into a place there might be hostiles without knowing the situation, Harry.
Clearly, you know what's in that room, so tell me."

"The Room of Requirement," Harry murmured, "In the configuration of a huge lost and
found. It's like, everything ever misplaced or left at Hogwarts, or hidden away. It's all there,
in huge piles. There might also be a girl, Vicky, and one to five Slytherin students. I doubt it'd
be anyone else."

"Cover?"

"Lots," Harry replied, "Piles of junk. Unstable but lots of it."

Ron nodded to confirm what Harry had said when Sirius looked to him. Then he turned to
Lyra, "And you?"

"I'm here to protect Harry," she said quietly, "As always."

"Alright. Well, I'm on point. Harry, then Lilith, and Ron at the rear. Watch our backs."

Then Sirius was inside.

Harry almost collided with him, for the wizard had stopped just two steps inside to gape.
Clearly, Harry's description of 'a lot of junk' did not give him any idea of what the Room of
Hidden Things truly looked like. He stepped around Sirius after just a moment, "This way."

But there was no girl there. In fact, the blood-stains from Mandy were all that was left of her,
a sight that made Ron turn green and back away toward the door before vomiting. Harry,
though, shuddered as some parts of the memory of her body, hacked to pieces brutally, came
back. "Shit," he muttered, "not here... Point me, Vicky!"

His wand did nothing, and especially did not spin on his palm and point in the direction of a
missing girl.

Lyra closed her eyes as she quickly shifted into her full Succubus form, and took off in a
streak of purple carapace and pale flesh with pink highlights into the air.

While she was gone, Sirius gestured toward the stains with his wand, "And that?"

"The last girl who went missing," Harry muttered darkly, "Mandy. I... there's a story there,
but it can wait until Dumbledore is with us. That's the part that makes me look... bad."

"Did you take her?"

Harry glared at Sirius, then sighed, a lot of tension leaving him. "Of course I didn't... but I
understand why you had to ask. Again, there's more to tell, but I'm not telling Dumbledore
that part. I... have a suspicion of who, but with Mandy dead there's little proof. I was sure
she'd be here, though."

"Mandy?"

Ron shook his head and growled, "No, Vicky. I'm as much to blame as Harry for Mandy, but
neither of us did it. We just... we knew she was here."

Lilith returned, chest heaving impressively, in less than a minute. "She's not in the room,
Master, which is huge. I couldn't sense any human presence alive in here besides the two of
you. And look- that big black box is gone."

Harry looked up at the space she pointed at. It had been a background feature, the largest
thing in the area, on his visits to Mandy, the only thing to identify the spot aside from an ugly
bust of some witch atop a birdcage that bowed under its weight nearby, and there was a clear
square of dust-free stones on the floor. "What was it?" Ron mumbled.

"Wasn't that the Vanishing Cabinet Fred and George stuffed Montague into last year?"

"Maybe," Ron said with a shrug, "Damn it... we'll never find her. Shit... if they... do it to her,
too, Ginny's gonna be really upset."

"We'll try to find her," Lilith reminded him, "but there's nothing more we can do for now. We
should go back to your quarters, Master, and regroup with the others. I'll send a few messages
out to your friends, if I've your permission to look like you. Have them join."

"Er, yes, that's probably a good idea," Harry said with a nod, then clapped a hand on Ron's
shoulder, forcing a neutral expression onto his face. "She's right, mate. Unless we get another
clue or a brain-wave or something, we're best off getting our heads together. Besides, it was
worth checking."

"R- Right."

"Sirius, can you tell Dumbledore that Ron and I will be in his office, with Lilith and all the
information we have, after we touch base with our friends?"

"Will do, Harry. Look, I... I know you said things make you look bad, but I have to ask again.
Do you have anything at all to do with the girls' disappearance?"

"Not... not exactly," he admitted, looking away, "but like Ron said, we both knew Mandy was
here. I'll tell you soon, I promise."

"Alright, I'll trust you, but you have to understand without knowing what's going on, I can't
really protect you."

"I don't think you could from this anyway," Harry told him softly, "No matter how much you
want to. But if the Aurors want to talk to me or arrest me, then they have that right. I'll
comply. But if they do, they'll be making a mistake."

Sirius did nothing but nod once, then he was gone.

Once he left, Lilith returned to her guise as Lyra, then gave Harry a quick kiss, "I'm with you,
Master, but I'm going to go gather as many of your friends as I can. Be ready to meet with
them in your suite."

Harry walked up the moving staircase to Dumbledore's office with a heavy heart. Behind
him, Lyra, Ron, and Sirius hiked up the stairs to meet with the headmaster as well. Ron, he
had seen before he stepped into the stairwell, looked even more nervous than Harry felt,
though he hadn't done nearly as much wrong. Lyra was strangely somber too, as if she knew
that Harry was about to confess several of their secrets to the old man and Harry's Godfather.
Sirius looked the least tense, but even he was carrying his wand behind his back. Maybe he
thinks I'm going to do a runner...?

Harry knocked on the door after schooling his own expression to something more neutral.
"Come in," Dumbledore called, his voice sounding just as tired as he'd looked earlier.

It was now a little after dinner, the earliest time Dumbledore had been available, because he'd
simply been too busy to meet with anyone other than the Aurors that had been summoned to
look into the girl's disappearance.

We should probably have mentioned we might have information... Oh well, too late now.

For once, the aged Headmaster seemed genuinely surprised, if only for a moment, with each
new person that walked through the door after Harry. "My apologies, Harry. I was under the
impression I would be meeting only with you this evening."
"Er... sorry about that, Professor," the young man replied. He gestured at the others, "Ron
already knows some of this and might know things I don't. Lyra just won't leave my side
these days, and might know some things I don't about it, too. Sirius is here to make sure I
don't run off, I think."

The older wizard snorted, "Not exactly that, pup. I just want to know what's going on."

Harry chose not to mention that he'd seen Sirius holding his wand just moments ago, but
turned to sit down in one of the chairs Dumbledore kept in front of the large desk. "I know
what happened to Romilda Vane. Her disappearance and... illness aren't related to Mandy
Brocklehurst's. I have some idea what happened to her, too, and I think Vicky Frobisher's
disappearance is linked to Mandy's."

If he'd been surprised to see so many visitors, that was nothing compared to the shock the
aged wizard displayed after hearing those words. "Harry... tell me everything, if you please."

Harry swallowed. It was hard doing so past the lump in his throat. Dumbledore's urgent,
earnest countenance was making the younger wizard even more anxious, but he knew it was
time to come clean. Stupid Gryffindor bravery... "Romilda was my fault."

"Our fault," Ron interjected.

Harry sighed. He'd been trying to keep Ron's involvement hidden to spare him any
repercussions. Maybe one more try... "It was my power. I'm the one that did the actual deed."

"But it was me egging you on," Ron continued to protest, "If I hadn't pushed you in her
direction, you'd never have looked twice at Romilda."

Harry knew, deep down, that wasn't true. He had contemplated using the girl's infatuation
with 'the Chosen One' or 'the Boy Who Lived' as early as the O.W.L.s last year, a week or two
after summoning Lilith.

Before he could say as much, the Succubus herself spoke, "If we're going to play the blame
game, I am ultimately at fault. It was my borrowed power that Master used on the girl. It was
my rush for our Bond to grow stronger that let Master use such a power so soon and so easily.
It was also me that did not devote enough time to teaching Master how to control the magic
he suddenly had access to."

With reluctance evident in his voice, Sirius said quietly, "But if he hadn't summoned you, it
wouldn't even have been an option."

"Partially true," Lyra conceded, "but your kind have magic that can do similar things, so it's
not a guarantee."

"I'd never use the Imperius Curse. Never!" Harry's shout made even Lyra jump.

"We know that, Harry," Sirius said with forced calm, "But as we still don't know what
actually happened to Miss Vane..."
Harry sighed and glanced toward Ron. "It... was a mistake. Started out with two randy blokes
and a cute girl who was kind of willing. We led her out to the edge of the forest past the lake
to give her a chance to spend some, uh, time with me."

Dumbledore took a large breath, letting it out with a long sigh of his own. "I take it Miss
Vane was... reluctant to say no to your advances?"

Ron snorted, "I think if it'd just been Harry, her knickers would've been around her ankles
before we passed Hagrid's hut."

"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore scolded, "that kind of language is not necessary, is it? Miss Vane
is a victim. I would thank you not to be so crass regarding her."

Ron blushed and fell quiet, sinking back into his padded armchair.

Harry could only shrug helplessly in response to the question, though. "Doesn't make him
wrong, Professor. Even without any magic, I think she was willing to be with Ron as long as
she could be with me, too. Anyway, once we were a bit secluded, we started... things."

One of the Headmaster's bushy eyebrows rose.

"Sex, fornication, intercourse," Lyra supplied too cheerfully, "Surely you know what Harry
meant?"

The wizard she had named groaned and muttered, "Not helping..."

Dumbledore ignored him, turning to the Succubus, "Of course I did, young lady. I had simply
hoped for a bit more discretion from you and your Contractor than this."

"Like I said," Harry reminded the older man, "everything else was an accident, or was the
result of trying to fix it. We just wanted to have some fun, and we were alone. It doesn't get
more discrete."

The Headmaster said nothing for a few seconds, then nodded, turning his eyes back to Harry.

"A- Anyway," he resumed, "As we were getting into it, Ron and I told her some of the stuff
we wanted her to do, and... magic happened. I felt it come out of me, and Romilda's eyes
went sort of pink-white, and she... did it. Anything we wanted, she was really into, no matter
how much it would've, uh, hurt." Harry said the last word quietly, but there was no way
anyone in the room could have missed it.

Dumbledore's piercing eyes seemed to weigh Harry for several seconds, his expression as
guarded as the student had ever seen it. Despite that, though, Harry was surprised by what he
saw. While Dumbledore clearly did not approve of what they had done, the amount of
disapproval visible in the aged warlock's expression was significantly less than he had
expected. "Should I assume, then, that you both made use of Miss Vane's willingness in, shall
we say, less traditional ways?"

Harry might once have been confused by the vague question, but after the last six months he
understood immediately. "Er, yes. In- all three, uh, 'more usual' ways. Me, Ron, and later
Lilith."

"Lilith?" Sirius almost squeaked in surprise.

Lyra nodded, choosing to ignore how she saw images of herself with a cock now floating
through her Master's godfather's dirty mind for the moment. "I arrived late to the party so to
speak, or I would have at least tried to prevent it from going so far. Once I did get there, I
asked Ron to head back to help prepare things for Miss Vane's safety. I knew at once what
had happened, even if I still haven't figured out how. I explained that to Master, and we
started repairing the damage then and there. We also decided to keep Romilda safe until she
was recovered enough to be released, and yes, we staged her reappearance too."

"I am at a loss regarding how keeping Miss Vane locked in what I presume was the suite you
were given for your discrete use for more than a week constitutes keeping her safe. By your
own account, you were the ones who attacked her."

"Not attacked," Lyra answered, "Master and Mr. Weasley went with a willing girl. Any injury
done was, as they have said, purely unintentional, and Miss Vane will not ever see what
occurred that evening as damaging in any way."

"Be that as it may-"

Lyra continued speaking over him, letting just a hint of her presence sneak through as well.
Dumbledore was as polite as ever though, and fell silent quickly anyway, "Romilda Vane,
after that initial wave of magic, was out of control with lust. Her every thought, beyond even
eating and drinking, was in the interests of sexual satisfaction, both for herself and those
around her. She would have literally starved or died of dehydration without being fed and
given drink mid-coitus. Would your Matron have known what to do, or been willing to help?
Would you?"

That idea made Dumbledore truly hesitate. He was quiet for more than a minute, then he
exhaled. "It... would not have occurred to me quickly, no, and the thought, with a student...
no, I do not think that I could."

"Yet Romilda wouldn't have given you a choice. She would have mounted any man, woman,
child, beast, plant, or piece of furniture. Constantly, until she died. Think of the harm that
would do to her, her family- even siblings and parents would not have been safe. We kept her
in an isolated circle at the least, spared her family and friends the worst of that.

"To recover, too, we had to satisfy the objective given when the power was used. That
command became her magically-given primary imperative that superseded any other desire."

"What exactly did she get told to do?" Sirius asked, folding his hands together as he leaned
forward seriously.

"That's not really important," Lyra cut off a more relaxed Ron with a wave of her hand,
"What matters is that we did everything we could to repair the damage as quickly and fully as
possible. It took several days and a lot of work, mostly on my end, but we did satisfy that
order. That being done allowed other needs, like survival, rise back up to the top."
Silence fell over the room for a minute or more until Dumbledore asked, "And her current...
illness? Her family is struggling with her... needs."

"Leftover effects," Lyra replied. She glanced at Harry, who nodded faintly, then explained,
"It's unlikely she will ever be fully cured. The command, issued without restraint, is just too
strong. But as long as her needs are at least mostly met, she should be able to live a fairly
normal life."

"I take it," the Headmaster asked after another moment to digest what he'd been told, "that the
memories of strangely sensual Devil's Snare in the Forbidden Forest are fabricated, then?"

The Succubus shrugged, "Don't even know what Devil's Snare is, but if that's what Romilda
told you, then yes. I used some illusions to help cover things up before we set her free.
Understand, I will do whatever it takes to protect Master. Even against you. The only reason
I've explained all of this is because he wants it out, at least to the pair of you, in hopes of
finding the other missing girl."

Dumbledore let out yet another long, deep sigh. "I understand. While I have no doubt an open
conflict between you and I would be spectacular to behold for a number of reasons, I also
have no wish to see Harry imprisoned. Nor do I think his regret is insincere. Nor have I
neglected to take into account the attempts at righting a grievous mistake."

"Thank you," Lyra said with a nod, subtly relaxing in her own chair.

"You said girl, however," Dumbledore noted, "when two are known to be missing still. You
do not seem the type to mis-speak."

"I am not," Lyra admitted with a sad little smile, "but unfortunately I know little about the
next bit. Master will have to tell you more, unless he wants me to pull the memories from his
head."

"Er, n- no," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'll just tell everyone. I mean, I don't care if you
see them, but... after the modification, which lasted a whole three hours by the way, I... I don't
want anyone else tampering with those memories."

"Explain then, please, Harry."

He took one more calming breath which had little effect, then began. "I've been using the
Room of Requirement for my activities, too. Started last year, and it's not less convenient
now. But this year, someone else keeps using it. It took me a while to figure out how to get
into that room, because it-"

"Pardon me," Dumbledore interrupted, a rare gesture from him, "but I am unfamiliar with
that name."

Memories flashed through his mind, and Harry grinned softly. "Well, you may recall a room
with a spectacular collection of chamber pots you were never able to find again? That room.
It can become nearly anything you need."
"Fascinating," Dumbledore whispered.

"It's pretty brilliant," Ron agreed.

"At any rate, if someone is using it already, another person has to ask for the right
configuration when using the room to get into it. I figured out the Room of Hidden Things-
that's what the House Elves call it- eventually, and stumbled across Mandy Brocklehurst
there."

Dumbledore's eyes widened, but Harry plowed on, not giving him a chance to ask questions.
"I wanted to free her- she was tied up- and bring her to you. I swear, that's what I wanted to
do. But Mandy... she convinced me not to."

"May I ask why?"

Harry's head fell nearly to his chest at the sad, confused tone the Headmaster had used,
"She... she said she didn't know who had taken her. They... there were three, she said.
Different... sized, um, penises. She knew because they all raped her, repeatedly, and
continued to do so when they visited, which was often. But one of them, the 'middle one', was
doing something else, something complicated. She never did find out what, or I never
learned. But Mandy... she asked me to leave her there. She wanted to find out more, to figure
out either who they were for sure, or what they were working on."

"I see," Dumbledore whispered, then a bit louder, "I take it she was convincing?"

Harry nodded, "Well, since I didn't tell you more than a week ago, yes. I think it's actually
been two weeks or more, before Hermione's birthday, if I remember right. So I kept visiting
her every once in a while, healing what wounds I could, making sure she was fed and
watered, taken care of... I imagine it was a lot like what Lyra had to do for Romilda, except
Mandy would tell me things. Not much, but some. One of the boys was rather well-endowed,
and I do know who he is, but I'm a little reluctant to tell you. It's unlikely he was the leader.
Another boy, according to Mandy, was rather, uh, small."

"May I ask why you do not wish to tell me the rapist's name, Harry?"

"Because Mandy told me she actually enjoyed it with him, sometimes," the youth replied
with a whisper, "I figured if he was willing to make it better for her, he might deserve... well,
a chance at redemption."

"Unfortunately, while I admire the sentiment, that is not your judgment to make."

Harry sighed, "No, you're right. It... was Gregory Goyle. I don't know if he's the one that did
her in, but he had the right build. She... was hacked apart, brutally, and... left as a message, I
think."

"You saw her body?" Sirius, when Harry looked toward him, was pale-faced.

He nodded, "Yeah. Wasn't the first I've seen, but... it was a mess. She was in terrible... she
didn't go out happy."
"All the more regrettable," the old man said, and Harry was not surprised to see tears welling
behind the half-moon spectacles. "I understand why you would do as she asked, Harry. But, if
such a situation were to occur again- though I pray it does not- I implore you to come to me,
or Sirius, with it. Even if the person in question wants to help, there are other ways, less
dangerous ways, as Miss Brocklehurst has proven."

"Y- Yeah," Harry croaked, suddenly near tears himself at just how broken his mentor
sounded. "I... it was not the smartest decision I've made."

"Yet again, not necessarily an offense. While last year the former Minister would likely have
attempted to arrest you under suspicion of rape and being an accessory if not the actual
perpetrator to that crime, I believe your intentions were good. So... what can you tell me
about Miss Frobisher?"

"Not much, unfortunately," Harry admitted, glancing to Ron and Lyra, "We ran up to the
Room of Requirement right after we left the Great Hall, Sirius right behind us. He cornered
us and came along. But Vicky wasn't there. Lyra even flew around the room to check. She
can sense people within a certain range, as long as they have emotions, so... But the room
was clear, aside from the stains Mandy... left. Her body was gone."

Dumbledore sighed again, "Alas. There is little we can do about that, however, at this point.
Please, continue."

"That's about it. I know that Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister, is really upset. Vicky is her
roommate."

"Understandable, yes. I do remember young Ginevra, of course, quite aside from the events
of her first year. Is there anything else, then, aside from the other missing girl?"

Harry shook his head, but Lyra lifted a hand, glancing at Harry, "With Master's permission,
I'd like to tell you a bit about what we've been doing for the other matter. The one he actually
summoned me for."

"Aside from to shag?" Sirius asked.

Lyra nodded.

Harry looked back and forth between the two adult wizards, then to his pet. "Go ahead, if you
think it's best. I trust them both."

She gifted him a smile, then stood, stepped forward, and shifted into her battle form. "This is
what I truly look like."

Sirius wolf-whistled, seemingly unable to help himself despite the alien form due to Lilith's
sheer feminine curvature. While Dumbledore seemed less impressed, he spent several
seconds looking at the Succubus' natural defenses and weapons as well.

"I show you this to illustrate that I am capable of more than just sex. Master Contracted with
me for two things: that sex, which I am more than happy to provide, and for assistance that he
felt he was not receiving from others against the threat you know he must face."

"Voldemort," Sirius growled.

She nodded, letting her tail sway as she flexed a fist, which engulfed in red flames. "I have
more than just lust at my disposal, though that is my strongest power."

"The dead Death Eaters at the Ministry."

She nodded at the Professor's statement, "The ones not killed by your magics or shrapnel,
yes. I can and will defend Master with everything I have. I say this partially to warn you, but
also to tell you what I bring to bear in his fight. If Master is to be at the forefront, those
behind him- you and I- must be as willing to sacrifice what he would, if I were to let him."

Dumbledore frowned, but said nothing.

"That means his link with your Dark Lord," she pointed directly at Harry's scar, "is a weapon
he and I would use. In fact, I am and have been since I learned of it within a day of our
Contract being formed. If you have noticed your Dark Lord being more erratic and yet less
active than normal, that is why. He, like those around my actual presence, are subject to the
arousal caused by my kind simply by being nearby."

Sirius coughed, "Oh. That... that explains a lot."

Again, Dumbledore frowned, but stayed quiet.

"Before I continue, know that your understanding of who and what Master is no longer
applies. In many ways, he is becoming like me, and I like him. He is something both more
and less human. He gains powers from me, and I gain strength from him. He was already a
natural leader, gifted, stalwart, with amazing friends."

Ron blushed, but said nothing.

Lilith ignored him, focusing mostly on Dumbledore, though she continued looking toward
Sirius, "But the core of who he is has not changed. He is just as noble, as kind-hearted, as he
ever was. Perhaps more-so, because the selfishness of youth is already fading in him, and he
is more willing than ever to step up and lead. I say this to you because you will not like the
things I propose, I think. But it is Harry's path to choose, not yours. You have no say in it,
except to advise and perhaps influence. Unless you are the one prophesied to strike down
your Dark Lord, Master must lead, and you must either follow or get out of the way. Is that
the way of things, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore clearly deliberated for a few seconds, then gave a strong nod, "That has long
been my belief, yes. I have attempted to guide Harry into taking a leadership role. Sadly,
failures I had made in the past have made it difficult for him, though your presence seems to
have mitigated much of that damage."

"Just so," Lilith agreed, acknowledging her own subtle efforts with a curt nod of her own,
"He already has his 'inner circle' to mirror Voldemort's. Only where your enemy has followers
and servants, Harry has loyal friends who would gladly give their lives for him. They proved
that last year."

It was Harry's turn to blush and sink into his seat, which made Ron, markedly less nervous
now, chuckle, "She's right, mate."

"Furthermore, there are other allies and friends. I would call them 'assets' if I were just a bit
more cynical, but Master likes and respects many of them, so friends it is. You might call
these the 'regular Death Eaters', those not within Voldemort's own inner circle, but who are
still given his Mark."

"I sense a pattern in parallels," Dumbledore said.

"That's deliberate on my end, though I don't think Master's noticed really," Lilith admitted,
shrinking back to her form as Lyra and taking her seat again, "Because it's not a bad structure
to begin with, if a bit basic, and because once people realize it, the symmetry will help with
morale and understanding. Using the enemy's tactics against them, in a way."

"That does make some sense," the Headmaster agreed, "though it would seem to me that you
are acting as if you are in charge."

"Think of her as my advisor," Harry said, shaking his head, "at least as far as that goes. I
haven't... thought about my friends like that, but I can see where she's coming from. From the
outside, it might seem like that. Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Lyra- maybe Hannah
lately, would be the start of my inner circle, and the rest of Dumbledore's Army is the
equivalent to the Death Eaters as a whole. But Lyra- Lilith- is in that inner circle, right up
there with the others. I take Ron's, Ginny's, and Hermione's advice seriously, just like hers."

"I see. I shall think of this lecture as delegation on your part then, Harry. Please, continue."

Lyra gifted the old man a smile that, had he been even a few years younger and more straight,
might have been truly effective, then did as he asked. "The enemy has a force of hundreds, at
least. Is that correct?"

Dumbledore nodded once, "We believe in the middle hundreds all-told, yes, but already he
has many Giants and other creatures, the Dementors included, on his side."

"We do not need to match him force for force," Lyra said thoughtfully, "but in any
confrontation, we should try to do so. Whittle him down. Don't stun and incapacitate.
Remove the threat. Every Death Eater removed is one less that kills one of your own. This is
a war, and I would appreciate it if the public leadership- that'd be you- acted like it until
Master is ready to take charge."

"I would prefer not to kill. Yet, I do understand your reasoning. I have simply seen a great
deal of death in my time already."

"Then you have my sympathies," Lyra responded, "Yet while you do your best to prevent
tragedy, tragedy befalls you. I hope you will be willing to make it fall on the enemy, instead.
I'm getting off-topic, though.
"Master is growing stronger, wiser, and more capable as a leader as well. When he is ready,
we will know. When the time comes, I expect he will lead the charge. Will you stand behind
him?"

"For as long as I am able," Dumbledore said at once.

"Alright, then. You should also know that, while the Death Eaters have a mark, we have one
of our own. Not the same, of course, and the magics used to make them are quite different."

"May I?"

Lilith grinned at Sirius' question, "They are not visible after application, not even to me. The
fluids dry, you see."

The former prisoner blushed. "Er... I see."

"Your own people know of sexual magic," Lyra explained, "but my people have perfected it.
Your kind use primarily wands, or other foci, for your spells. My people use the language of
our people, written in sexual fluids, to grant strength and powers. Master was the first, of
course, but Ron, Hermione, and several others have benefitted already. They are stronger,
faster, healthier. That alone makes them a threat against a normal human. Master... would you
demonstrate by picking up the chair? With a single hand?"

Harry nodded and hopped up. With a hopefully graceful motion, feeling the eyes of everyone
in the office on him, he gripped the back of the chair. It swung up in an arc and he lifted it
smoothly over his head, only moving to provide balance with his feet. There, he held it for
several seconds without strain. Wow, I never noticed how much stronger I've become. Those
Runes are powerful.

Once he'd put the chair down again, Lyra continued, "I estimate that Master could pick up
and throw your desk about ten feet right now, and his Runes are not yet complete. Ronald
could probably do the same with his chair, and then some. There are other powers, too.
Master can subsist on very little sleep or food or water, for example. Those extra powers,
we've only just started performing rituals for, but they are useful and potent."

Harry hoped Dumbledore wouldn't notice the subtle deception, or his own flinch when she'd
said it. Fortunately, the headmaster simply nodded, "I see. I... well, I suppose there's little I
could say or do that would stop you, if I was inclined to, which I am not. I understood when I
learned of your existence that Harry's situation would, of necessity, change. This is simply
another facet of that, is it not?"

"It is," Harry said firmly, "and one I don't regret."

"Me, neither," Ron said with an audible grin.

"Very well. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Not that I can think of," Harry said.

"Then I shall bid you good night. I must return to attempting to find Miss Frobisher. Please,
do not hesitate to come forward if you do learn of anything. I know you are quite resourceful,
and have the ear of many students, Harry."

"I will, I promise."

"Thank you. Good night, everyone."

 Divestiture of Freedom

Slight TW: Might seem like some cucking going on. It's not. Harry's made it very clear he
prefers an open lifestyle, one that equates to a swinger lifestyle. If that bothers you, then this
really shouldn't have been your fic, oh... 49 chapters ago. But to each their own. Don't bother
flaming over it, I have no sympathy if it bothers you now when it didn't then.

Also some BDSM, but that's also common in the fic, so... get over it. And family fun. ;)

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

EDIT: Oh, and a minor note- this story will be caught up on FFnet's chapters in 8.5 months.
At that time, I will be posting ZPoW or PTaL more often, depending on which is more
commented on / has more kudos.

Chap. 50: Divestiture of Freedom

To help him take his mind of things, Harry had urged Hermione to go through with their
plans for Saturday morning. At first, she'd been a bit reluctant, but had changed her own
mind without urging within a few minutes of him asking. That was why he, like Ron, had
slept in the dorm after leaving Dumbledore's office. His waking early was not the result of his
Runes this time, but Hermione and Ginny shutting the door quietly behind them. He sat up
and pushed the blankets down to reveal his erection, but neither girl went for it at first.
Instead, Ginny doffed her robes, tossing them over Harry's bed, to reveal that she was
wearing a slinky black teddy. Hermione's own, revealed a moment later, was eggshell blue.
"Damn, you two are sexy," he whispered, unable to decide who to look at more.

"Yes, well, you'll have to wait your turn," Hermione teased, "you asked me to blow your
room-mates, not you."

Ginny giggled along with Harry, then whispered, "Your Pet's fucking her face right now. Said
she'd be busy for an hour or so. It's early yet, so we have time to get everyone satisfied."

"Good," he smiled, standing up from the bed as Hermione crossed to Dean's bed and pushed
open the curtains.
"Damn, I wanted that one," Ginny giggled again, changing her trajectory to Seamus' bed as
Hermione tugged down Dean's pyjamas and started stroking his thick penis. Soon, he was
hard, so Hermione tapped him awake while deep-throating the boy. He woke buried to the
hilt in Hermione's throat with a groan. "Damn, what a way to wake up!"

"Too righ'," Seamus grunted from next to him, where Ginny had tugged his legs down to
hang off the bed before taking him in her mouth. "You sure this is okay, Harry?"

"Are you complaining about a sexy girl like Ginny sucking your cock, Seamus?"

"Nah," the Irish boy grunted as Ginny did her best to emulate Hermione's skill, "I just- well,
you said Hermione and Lyra, not- not your girl."

"Ginny wants your cock. Enjoy her."

"Damn- that does make a bloke feel good about himself," Seamus chuckled, leaning back
onto his elbows with a groan of pleasure.

"Wh- whaz' goin' on?"

"Round robin blow-jobs," Harry answered Neville, "come get sucked off, mate."

"Hell yeah," the once-shy boy grunted, throwing open his own curtains and shoving his pants
to his ankles.

"C- Cummin'," Dean grunted.

From between his legs, Hermione moaned, one hand beneath the lower part of her teddy. She
rose off him to keep just the boy's dark head in her mouth as he climaxed, then showed it to
him before swallowing. "Gods, I love cum. Neville?"

Dean stayed on his bed but rose to sit on the edge of it, shucking his pajamas as Neville
crossed the room, presenting his fat erection for Hermione's waiting mouth. As with Dean,
she dove right in, taking him to the hilt at once.

She still struggled with Harry's cock, but Ginny had no problems throating Seamus anymore.
She bobbed like a champ, and soon he was climaxing, too. Dean still hadn't recovered, which
left the red-head to shrug, "Guess it is your turn, Harry. But you can have my pussy."

"Nice."

Before he reached her, she had come to Hermione's side and taken over stroking Dean back
to full hardness. When he pushed into his Pet's tight, dripping hole, she sank down onto the
other boy. He set a leisurely pace, stroking in and out gently to prolong the fun. Not to be
outdone, next to them Hermione pulled off Neville for a moment to look toward the other
boy, "Seamus, if you can pull out you can put it in my pussy this time. I don't want a mess, so
you have to cum in my mouth."

"Fuck yeah," he grunted, and the last little bit of his recovery passed quickly.
Hermione left Neville to climb onto the edge of his bed so one leg hung off it and the other
bent at the knee on it, while her shoulders were just hanging on the edge. Neville smiled at
their friend and pushed back into her mouth, one hand reaching into her teddy to grope one
breast. Then she started moaning around him as Seamus took her up on the offer.

All too soon as Harry saw it, their non-enhanced friends were grunting into the eager mouths
of the girls. After two climaxes, both were wiped out, so they begged off to head to a still-
early breakfast. Neville, who had orgasmed twice as well, said, "I got a date with Hannah
later. Thanks, Ginny, Hermione," then headed for the showers.

"I should go too," the bookworm said reluctantly, "I've got some research to do into my
ability. Don't have too much fun without me."

Once the door was shut behind them, Harry looked down at Ginny's back, where he was still
slowly riding her, "You know, Ron always said he was jealous so many people were willing
to wake me up with their mouths..."

Ginny groaned, almost instantly climaxing around him at the idea. "You... you want me to...
suck my own brother's long dick... dirty... nasty, Harry..."

But when her climax ended, Ginny eagerly pulled off of him, and yanked aside Ron's
blankets. He, like Harry, usually slept nude now, so his morning wood was on full display.
Ginny whimpered as she bent low over the bed. Harry stepped up behind her and pushed two
fingers into her still-open twat as her tongue ran up her sibling's member.

"Whazzat?"

"Morning, big brother," Ginny cooed, "It's my mouth on your dick."

"Wha- oh God! That's amazing, G- Gin!"

Her tongue had swirled around his head as he spoke. Ron's hands both flew to her head,
pushing it down further. She let him for a bit, then rose off with a loud pop. "You want me to
stop, Ron? Or do you want your filthy sister to suck your big dick deep into her nasty little
throat?"

The other ginger glanced once at Harry, just noticing his presence, then growled, "You've
already done it, you cheap slag. Get down there and finish the job."

"If I'm a slag," Ginny grinned triumphantly, "then you've got to pay me for my services."
Then she gave another hard suck that made her brother groan.

A moment later, both her hands were around him, too, twisting in opposite directions while
they pumped in time with her mouth. It took all three to cover his length from the side, but
Ron didn't seem to care. All he seemed to care about what the feel of his sister's lips wrapped
around him, leading the way for her tongue and hands. "Sh- shit, Gin... that feels so good..."

Harry watched her for a while, his fingers moving idly in her the girl's cunt. Within him, a
strange feeling began to swell and rise like a tide. Without thinking consciously about it, he
grew shorter, lost perhaps fifty pounds or more of mass, and the shape of his body shifted.

Along with his physical changes, easier this time by far, his mind shifted, too.

Iris shifted to the side and leaned down over Ginny, pressing her own full breasts into the
slender girl's back. One hand went underneath the other girl at the waist to pinch her clit
between two fingers, while the other was just long enough to reach down and cup Ron's
scrotum. He groaned as she began gently rolling his testicles in her hand.

"F- fuuuck... that feels so damned amazing," Ron grunted, "Don't stop, Gin... Iris... shit...
you... you're both gonna make me cum!"

"Do it, Ron," Ginny cooed, "Cum in your sister's mouth!" Then she dove down again,
gagging slightly as she got her brother's entire dick in her mouth and throat a moment before
he climaxed. She swallowed several times, then sucked even more tightly as she withdrew.
Thanks to the Runes and Ginny's attention, Ron was hard again when she released him. His
long dick flopped against his stomach, then rose again into the air.

Iris gave Ginny's clit a harder pinch, then left it alone to trail fingertips up her ribs as she
climbed onto the bed, then over Ron's long legs. The bed was crowded, but Iris had just
enough room to kneel next to him and take his tip into her mouth instead. Ron groaned again,
but did not protest as Ginny scooted a bit lower and started licking his cum-drenched balls
clean while Iris blew him.

Once she was finished, Iris, her whole body overheating with desire, threw one leg over her
best mate, careful to avoid kicking Ginny on the way. "Ron," she purred, "D'you wanna shoot
your next load in my womb?"

Without waiting for an answer, she positioned him at her entrance with Ginny's help and sank
down, taking him all the way inside. It took a few seconds for her to remold her body so that
Ron just hit her cervix when he was fully inside her, then she started moving, riding him with
a twisting grind to her hips she'd learned from Lilith. A momentary tickle preceded Ginny's
lips closing on her clit, then the girl's talented tongue began to blur over her sensitive nub.

Iris hissed at the combined feeling of one Weasley touching deep inside her body with his
heat and steel-hard rigidity, while the younger sibling thrummed at her clit. "I... it feels... so...
good," she panted.

After a few minutes, Ginny stood up, her face slick with Iris' juices and a pair of lines of her
brother's semen that ran down from each end of her mouth toward her chin, glistening a little
brighter than the girl's liquid. Iris leaned in, and her pet puckered up, clearly expecting a kiss.
The shape-shifting girl had other plans, though, and extended her tongue to Ginny's jawline.
It rose once, gathering Ron's seed, then gathered up the other line. Only then did Iris press her
lips to the younger girl's, and used her long tongue to push a little more of the saliva-mixed
goo into her mouth.

"So tasty," Ginny moaned.

"Ron's cum is pretty good," Iris whispered back. "Finger my clit... and watch."
She had already seen Iris with a penis before, on the night the girls had found out about her
existence. But Ginny hadn't watched it appear before, as first a bulge that swelled from just
above Iris' clit. For a moment, she thought it might be a second one, but it continued to grow
far beyond the tiny size of Iris' nerve bundle, until she could see the clearly defined head take
shape. From there, it grew as if on a stalk, one inch after another and growing slowly thicker,
until Harry's full size was revealed. "It looks so big on you," Ginny said softly.

Iris glanced at Ron next. His own eyes were locked on the same sight. After just a moment
more, she lost sight of her lover's gaze when his sister threw a leg over his head and
positioned her crotch above his face. "Alright, Ron. I used my mouth on you, now it's time
for your payment."

For a moment, watching what little of the ginger's face she could see, Iris thought he would
refuse. Fucking someone with a dick, whether she was a girl or not otherwise, was probably
already a lot for him to take. But to eat out his sister while doing so?

Instead, the boy let his hands rise to circle Ginny's muscular, slim legs, his large hands
gripping her thighs tightly. "I... I gotta say, I've, uh, been- been imagining this for a while,
now. You sure it's okay?"

In reply, Ginny looked at Iris with a triumphant grin, then down at her brother's cock, which
still speared inside the other girl. "Why don't you put your mouth to work being useful,
instead of asking dumb questions?"

Then she yelped as Ron's strong arms yanked her body a little lower on the bed, his tongue
already pushing out. It rose into Ginny's pink slit, but pulled out quickly to slide up the valley
and flick over her clit from below. "That's it, Ron... eat my pussy. Lick your little sister's
filthy cunt!"

Spurred on by his willingness, Iris started riding the boy faster as she leaned forward to kiss
Ginny deeply. Then a strong hand gripped one of her breasts, and the powerful squeeze Ron
delivered made her climax at once. Ron shivered as her walls collapsed and trembled around
him, but he didn't climax just yet. Instead, he kept mauling her left breast, but also lifted his
other hand from her thigh to cup Ginny's left tit, too. While his fingers sank into Iris' flesh a
bit, his large hands completely covered Ginny's more pert size. "Mmm... God, yes, Ron...
squeeze my tit. Make me feel good!"

Iris started bouncing faster. One hand rose to her other breast, the other covered Ron's for a
moment, then slid down to grab him by the wrist. He resisted only a moment, then let her
move him. He still froze the moment he made contact with Iris' thick cock.

That gave her the perfect opportunity to wrap the boy's fingers around herself and give one
pump while she held him there. "Is... is that okay, Ron?"

Slowly, the red-head started licking his sister's cunt again, and Ginny grinned down at them
as Iris let go of his hand. Her own hips began grinding on her brother's face faster too. "My
brother's gonna make... make me cum... I can't believe my brother's gonna make me cum!"
That was apparently enough encouragement, for Ron gave a pump of his own, then loosened
his grip slightly to slide up and down Iris' member instead of just tugging on the skin. Iris
tried and failed to hold back a whimper. Merlin... is this what it feels like for Lilith when I
shag her while she's in someone else?

The dual stimulation quickly overrode all other needs for the moment as Iris was lost to
fucking herself onto Ron's dick harder and faster, using that motion to make him jerk her off
faster, too. She didn't register the bed shifting, nor see it happen because her eyes were tossed
heavenward, staring sightlessly at the ceiling while her body became lost to pleasure.

She felt the moment Ginny's mouth settled over her tip, though. Iris shrieked in pleasure,
though somehow she held back her climax for a moment. The red-head climaxed on her
brother's mouth a few seconds later, and while she did, Ginny's teeth grazed against Iris'
erection while she bobbed, but once she calmed, the pleasure returned two-fold.

"That's it, Ron... fuck my pussy and stroke my cock at the same time! Lick Ginny's clit- make
her cum again when you do!"

"Mm- 'm tryinf," the muffled reply came a moment later.

"It won't be hard," Ginny gasped, then licked Iris' frenulum twice, "I'm almost- almost there
again! Come in my mouth, Iris!"

She could not have done otherwise if she tried. Iris felt Ron's dick stiffen even further a
moment before a wave of additional heat and moisture shot out of him to splash with force
she could feel against the back of her vagina. Ginny's mouth jerked lower on her cock as she
went into spasms of her own, and the dual sensations set Iris off. Her squirt splashed against
Ron's stomach, while her load of thick semen crashed into his sister's mouth. For several
minutes, that rapture was all she could comprehend.

A few minutes later, Harry sat up on the bed and pulled on his pants once more. "So, have
fun?"

"Loads," Ginny groaned, "Never came so hard in my life. Except when the Runes went on,
anyway... You're pretty good at licking pussy, big brother."

"I hope I'm at least as good as you suck cock, slutty sister."

"Eh, I don't know if you're that good," she teased, slapping the sweaty boy's shoulder as she
propped herself up on one elbow.

"Then I guess I won't do it anymore, if you don't appreciate my effort," Ron replied, reaching
up a hand to squeeze one of Ginny's tits. She sighed, pushing her chest against him for a
moment, then pulled away.

"We should probably get dressed. Breakfast is almost over by now."

"Oh. Yeah, food. That's important," Ron agreed quickly,

On Sunday morning, after Ron had gotten over his nerves about being in a room with no
fewer than eight Slytherins, the entire group of friends and then some discussed plans to
canvas the school over the next week, checking in every nook and cranny at least twice and
always in teams of two or more after classes. Eventually though, Millicent dragged Cassius
out, and shortly after both Daphne and Tracey left, Hannah and Neville followed Dean and
Seamus, while Parvati and Padma left together, whispering about getting in touch with one of
their family's friends to see if they could find another way to track the missing girl, or girls
since precious few yet knew that Mandy was dead.

But as Pansy stood up to leave while Lavender chatted with Lyra about something a little
more pleasant that missing girls, Harry stood up too. "Hold up, Pansy. I need to ask you
something. Can we go into my room for a moment?"

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded, following his lead and sending him a faint glare as he
shut the door, the lights coming on automatically. "What?"

"Hostility," Harry chuckled, "I didn't expect that. You left happy the other day. What's
wrong?"

Pansy frowned, scowling at him, then deflated after a few seconds. "It's... well, I'm worried.
You've got all these other pretty girls around you. I know you said you think I'm pretty too,
but... it's obvious you're shagging most of them. How am I supposed to compete? I..."

Harry smiled. This is too good a chance! "Well, if you're feeling left out... there's something
we can do."

"I'm not in the mood to shag right now," she grumbled, "I just... worry you won't be able to or
in the mood when I am."

Oh... we can fix that, Pansy. It won't even be hard. I will be, but...

Outwardly, he reached out and pulled her into a gentle hug. "You know about Lyra. What you
don't know is that she's been enhancing our abilities, giving us more strength, stamina in
every way. Ginny can probably pick you up and throw you ten or so feet if she tried. Ron,
lanky as he is, could get fifteen. Our stamina... well, have you ever wondered why I don't
stop? I'm hard as long as I want to be, even if I've just finished?"

Slowly, Pansy nodded, seeming a bit lost at where he was going, against his chest.

"It's magic," Harry supplied, letting go and gesturing toward the common room, "Lyra's got
this series of magical Runes she can paint on someone, and they sink into the skin, invisible.
They enhance almost everything about someone. Make them faster, stronger, smarter... and,
well, more eager. I already was a randy bloke, but now... it's never quite enough, you know?
If you want... to be with me, you don't have to do this. But you'll just have to get used to the
idea that you will be with someone who is shared around a lot. If you do decide to do this..."

"What this?" Pansy asked.

"The Runes," Harry clarified, "the ones I just mentioned. We can have Lyra apply a set to
you. But to do it, you'll need to... be with the others, too. Not just me."

She looked thoughtful, considering the others in the room next door, then cast a gimlet eye
his way, "Can I assume you don't just mean Hermione or Ginny Weasley, either?"

Harry shook his head, "No... it would likely involve Lyra, and Ron. If you want to do
anything more, it would also probably take Neville and Hannah joining in."

The girl proved her intelligence when, a few seconds later, she asked, "And Brown, and you
probably expect Daphne and Tracey and Millie to join in, don't you?"

Harry grinned, waving a hand in a so-so gesture, "Not all of them, but maybe. I won't say no
if Millie asks, but I wasn't planning on asking her. She seems happy enough with
Warrington."

"And you think Daphne and Tracey aren't happy together?"

"Well, no, I think they are," Harry corrected, "but they also came to me asking for sex before
you did this year, both of them. If that continues too much longer, I'll ask if they'd like to join
the group we've got going. If they say no, then that's it. Same deal for you. You don't have to,
and the offer will stay open, but if you do then we can... get you that set of rituals tonight. In
just a few minutes in fact, though it takes a few hours to paint them all."

"And the cost is...?"

"No cost except the time," Harry said with a shrug, "and being with more than just me. It's a
sex ritual, it requires some... openness. You remember how Tracey's first time went as well as
I do. That sort of thing."

"So the others will be... watching?"

"And participating. Specifically, you'll have Ron ejaculating in you at some point tonight- or
whenever- too, maybe other blokes. One person involved has to be me, because she's my
Succubus, and one has to be Lyra because she's the Succubus applying the Rune-sets. A third
person- anyone- is required, but the more people involved the more fun it is, and believe me,
once your first or second set go on, you'll want more people around to shag, at least for that
first night. It's pretty intense until you get used to it."

The dark-haired girl frowned thoughtfully again, "And if I decide I don't want to continue
being a slag for your group of friends afterward? What then?"

Harry blinked. "That... that's a good question. I'd want to talk it over with the others, but I'm
going to go with this as a working plan: we get your oath of secrecy, and don't ask you to
participate again."

"... That's it?"

"Why would we want anything else?"

"You're saying- correct me if I'm wrong- that if I shag you and your friends tonight in some
sort of multi-partner... thing, more than we did the other night, I can have twice the physical
strength, twice the stamina, and more magical power?"

"And better senses, you'll be more attuned to what's around you, and you'll enjoy sex more,
want it more."

Pansy whistled, "That sounds like a really cheap price, to be honest. Too good to be true."

"It does, when you put it like that," Harry chuckled, "but it isn't anything more as far as I
know. I've had these Runes, my set, on since the night I first Summoned Lilith. Some of
them, anyway, she put mine and Ron's first few on gradually, but she's strong enough to do a
bunch in one night now."

"Anyway," he eventually said after she lapsed into pensive quiet, "think about it. Like I said,
the offer's op-"

"I'll do it," she interrupted, "and... we can do it now, I s'pose. I better not regret this, Potter."

Harry blinked, then grinned. "Alright. I don't think you'll regret it, not at all."

He lead the way out into the common room, and announced boisterously, "Pansy's getting
Runes. Lavender, no questions. In fact, stay quiet- say nothing- and go into the room across
the way with the others. Pansy... sorry about this, but you'll thank me for it later. Stupefy."

The others watched, shocked, as the vivacious blonde stood and immediately began walking
toward the other room, questions clearly burning in her eyes but obeying her Master's
command to stay silent. Even more-so when Pansy's limp body collapsed to the floor in
Harry's doorway. He turned his wand next to levitate her wordlessly, backing up a bit to turn
her ahead of him and leading the way into the other room, where Lavender stood a few feet
inside the door, staring awe-struck at the things in there.

"Ginny, open the stocks would you? Wait, no... the Pillory, that's the word I meant."

Confused but looking increasingly excited at whatever Harry was planning, the red-haired
girl dashed past the hovering, unconscious girl and unlatched the wooden hinge, lifting it up
upright. The others followed in, watching with wide eyes as Harry set Pansy down on her
back using the flat cushion on one side of the Pillory stand, then arranged the unconscious
girl's hands and neck into the padded holes before closing and latching it, leaving Pansy's
head hanging down, but not in a position that would be too uncomfortable when he woke her
up.

"Okay, Pet, now we have to secure her feet, so let's take off her clothes- cut what you need to,
we can repair it later."

"Harry, what are you-"

"I promise, Hermione," Harry interrupted, "I'll explain when I'm done. Lavender, why don't
you show Hermione how much you appreciate her body?"
"Wait, Lavender, hold on, I- mmf!" It had taken his newest acquisition just a few seconds to
get on her knees in front of her dorm-mate and and push her skirt up, then bring her mouth to
Hermione’s already dripping muff.

"Holy shit," Ron laughed, "Lavender, how long've you been holding back? Damn!"

Harry grinned to himself as he and Ginny worked, putting the trio behind him from his mind
for the moment, though Ginny, he noticed, stole a few glances past him as Hermione's
protests turned slowly into aroused moans. Once all of Pansy's clothing was removed or cut
off, he and Ginny spread her ankles so that she was nearly doing the splits, taking turns
holding her knees in place while the other tied off the limb with additional eye-hooks on the
pillory boards itself, then tied her ankles below her knees to hold them upright, too. Then
Harry dusted off his hands, the silk ropes plenty strong enough to hold her in place but not
rough enough to do damage as Pansy squirmed, and pulled out his wand again. "Enervate."

"Now, Pansy, as you can tell, you are tied up. We've tied up like everyone who's done this
ritual because you can get a bit wild as it goes on. It's for your safety. Does that answer your
question too, Hermione?"

"W- Well, n-no," the witch protested, seeming caught between humping Lavender's face as
she was on her knees before Hermione, and pushing her away. "Why tie her up like that, and
stunned? She's-"

"As you said the other day, a fairly powerful submissive," Harry reminded her, "And I am
acting as her Dominant. Pansy is a slut, who wants to be fucked by everyone in this room,
yourself included, isn't she? Answer me, slut."

He heard the dark-haired girl gulp, then whisper, "Y- Yes, Harry. Yes, I- I want to be fucked
like- like the slut I am."

Ginny moaned beside him, then asked, with her hand on his elbow, "Can I touch your slut,
Master?"

"Yes, of course, Pet," Harry grinned, "What's mine is yours for now. My slut is your slut-
same goes for you, Lyra. But as I said, she's getting Runes tonight. Can I count on you, Ron?"

"Er... if- if it's alright with Hermione, I guess I can... be... with a Slytherin," Ron mumbled,
seeming quite unsure as he cast a glance in their girlfriend's direction.

Hermione, in turn, sighed and seemed to give in, pulling Lavender's face closer to her crotch,
"Fine, I... I suppose it's fair, since I've... well, you know. Been- been with her, too. But what's
going on with Lavender? Why isn't she talking, and- oh, god that feels so good- why- why's
she... doing this?"

"Because she appreciates your beauty as much as I do," Harry said solemnly, "and she's
obedient, too. I'll explain more later. For now, think of her- think of her as being further along
in the training Pansy is starting to receive. Isn't that right, slave? You may speak to answer,
then return your mouth to Hermione's cunt until she tells you to stop."
"Yes, Master," Lavender said at once, then returned to her task.

"That's so hot," Ginny whispered, pushing a hand into her skirt and rubbing herself while the
other landed on Pansy's bare thigh, skimming up the inside and back down, not quite
touching her precious spots.

The older witch jumped in the stocks as Lyra grinned and announced, "Master has decided to
start using his natural gifts and those he's gotten from me. I approve."

"I'm glad you do," Harry told the Succubus, then turned his attention to Pansy, his hand
lingering on Ginny's arm for a moment as he walked around to the trapped girl's head. "Now,
Pansy... this will be the last choice you get tonight, so listen and choose carefully. You will
need my cum in you, you will need Ron's cum in you, and you will need to sexually satisfy
Lyra, Ginny, or Hermione, and have the same one satisfy you before the ritual can be
completed. You will also need to be used in your slutty cunt, in your filthy arse-hole, and that
nasty mouth of yours. But you get to choose who goes where. That's your choice."

While she debated, Harry watched Ron pull out his cock and start to stroke, attention divided
between the naked, bound Slytherin and the gorgeous blonde eating out his girlfriend's pussy.

"I- I want Master in my pussy," Pansy whimpered, "And- and his Weasley friend can r- rape
my ass, and- and-the Succubus on- on my mouth."

"Good, slut," Harry said, looking around the room, "Any objections?"

"Nah," Ron laughed, "but I'm gonna be having some fun with Hermione and Lavender first, if
you don't mind."

Harry smiled invitingly, "Why don't you ask our girlfriend, dummy. You know I don't care if
you have some fun with my slave."

Just then, Hermione shuddered in climax, shoving Lavender away desperately. "G- God, it's-
fuck!"

"Lavender," Harry supplied next, "Why don't go you go down on Ron next, and tell him all
about how you love having cum on your tits."

"I do love having cum on my tits, just like I love having my throat fucked like my pussy,"
Lavender cooed at once, seeming lost in lust already, driven by desire like Romilda had been,
yet with more self-awareness and mental acuity. "Put that long dick in my mouth, Ron, I've
wanted it for so long."

"Don't mind if I do," Ron chuckled, stepping forward after glancing at Hermione, who
weakly waved him on as she leaned against the back of the couch with one arm.

"Sluts don't choose the order," Harry told Pansy, "so we'll get your fun out of the way before
we hurt you. Lick Lyra's beautiful pussy until she screams, and Ginny will practice her skills
on you."
The Succubus had to stand on her toes to be high enough, but soon she was leaning over the
pillory's wooden blocks, her hands reaching around to knead into Pansy's generous
mammaries, while Ginny knelt between the bound girl's outstretched legs and gave her an
extraordinarily forceful, needy licking. Harry, feeling not exactly left out but in need, circled
the group to stand next to Hermione, pulling her into his arms and slowly undressing her
while both watched their friends' activities. "I claimed Lavender as my slave the other day,"
he murmured, "after- something bad happened. I was upset, and she had already told me she
wanted it to be rough when I was with her, so I... did."

"She's- like Romilda?"

"No," Harry laughed, "weren't you talking to her earlier? She's herself. This is like that, but
it's not the same. Imagine if Romilda were fully recovered, not even the nymphomania, but
still entirely willing, all the time. Just for me, though. She's willing for everyone I tell her to
be for. But she chose this, Hermione, before you get upset. She wanted me to claim her, make
her mine. So I did. I granted her wish."

Hermione sighed, melting into his hands as her shirt and tie fell away, "It still feels wrong
somehow, but I know you'll t- treat her w-well. You're already off-ff to a good s-start with
Pansy."

"I love the women in my life," Harry murmured into her ear, nibbling on the bookworm's
earlobe with his lips, "and I want to do right by them, whatever that takes. You know I don't
take any of you for granted, not even Lilith. You know that, right?"

She nodded, reaching behind him to grab at Harry's arse, too. "That's why I love you," she
whispered.

"Part of that," Harry continued, pushing his cock against her arse as he started working on the
zipper of her skirt, "is making the women in my life happy. I... Lavender isn't home, not like
you and Ginny and even Pansy. But she's mine in that way, if that makes sense."

This time, Hermione shook her head. "You've said that before- don't stop, that feels good- but
I'm not sure what you mean. Lyra said something about the bond...?"

Harry nodded against her, kissing down her neck, too. "Doesn't Lavender look hot, trying to
get all of Ron into her mouth? A- anyway, yeah, the... when I'm with you, everything is great.
This, right now, even just a look can make me happy but as soon as I push into you,
anywhere, it feels like I belong there. Like... like you are my home. It's the same with Ginny,
and yes Lilith- in whatever body- and even Pansy. There's- there's a few others. Daphne and
Tracey feel the same as each other, like Hannah. It's... I don't know how to describe it, but the
best I can come up with is.. .it's A home, but it's not my home. I am welcome there- like at the
Burrow- but it's not truly my home."

"Go on," she urged, "and- touch my cunt, I need your fingers, Harry."

He complied, slipping an arm between them and reaching up beneath her legs to slowly push
one finger inside Hermione's vagina. "Lavender... when I was with her, it wasn't quite the
same. She wasn't home, she was my... my property. Like... a pet, but not in the same way
Lyra and Ginny are. They're Pet because it's a pet name, but Lavender is... like a puppy
almost. A sexy, gorgeous, I-want-to-fuck-her puppy, who will do whatever I tell her to. And I
just reinforced that with some new tricks."

"You are a Dom," Hermione chuckled weakly as he worked her cunt, "I kind of always
knew... but this is taking it a bit further than I could've expected."

"Maybe," Harry admitted, "but Lavender isn't complaining, and she wouldn't if I gave her the
choice. I can feel her... not like Lyra or anything, but I sense her needs and wants. She wants
Ron to cum in her mouth really badly, for example, to see how he tastes compared to me.
She's only had three boys in her mouth, and only tasted me so far."

"I like giving head more," Hermione murmured, "always- always knew that. Who, though?
Who's her-"

Harry looked up from Hermione's neck, "Lavender, tell us who the first guy you sucked off
was."

She popped off Ron at once, who groaned, "Percy Weasley."

Most of the action in the room ground to a halt as the two Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione
were completely stunned.

But Lavender had already gone back to work.

"Er... tell us more...?"

She removed herself again, putting her hands to work on the slick flesh instead, "It was our
second year, and I was out past curfew when he was patrolling. I sucked him to keep from
getting turned in to Professor McGonagall. He was really eager for it when I said I would."

Hermione growled, "You sucked the dick of a sixteen year old when you were twelve?"

Lavender didn't pause in her renewed work, though, and soon Ron grunted, slamming further
into her mouth then yanking out and angling himself down to coat Lavender's blouse with his
cum.

Pansy, under Ginny's tongue-lashing, had already climaxed a few times, but Lyra finished a
few seconds later, gasping, grinding her cunt onto the bound girl's face. Then she picked up
the ever-handy bowl and levitated her juices and Pansy's for now, into it to get started before
moving over to join Ginny without pushing her away. Soon, both girls were going at Pansy in
tandem, who quickly began writhing and gasping for mercy.

Mercy that was not coming, even if she was.

"Lavender," Harry ordered next, "clean Ron like I showed you, then come blow me, too.
No... I'll wait. Just be patient. You may touch yourself and have pleasure, but no climaxes
yet."
"Yes, Master," the girl complied, immediately turning her hands to herself where she knelt
facing Pansy's bound body while she licked at Ron.

Once he was clean, Ron turned to Hermione and Harry once more. "You guys are sure?"

Hermione nodded slowly, glancing with some pity at the whimpering, crying Pansy,
"Parkinson and I have reached an understanding. Yes, it's alright to shag her, Ron. Apparently
we're going to be... friends, now. This isn't free reign, though. Just tonight."

"That's just fine with me," Ron announced, "I'm still not sure I can even handle being with a-
well, you know."

He didn't seem to have any problems moving over to the pillory and flicking one of Pansy's
distended nipples before groping her breasts, which hung to the side of her ribs in a sexy sort
of way, while Harry continued fingering Hermione.

Soon, Lyra and Ginny together had made Pansy climax again, and the Succubus pulled away,
tugging Ginny with her, while she gathered up the liquids left behind in her bowl. The
Succubus whispered something to Ginny as she did, though, and the red-head dipped both
hands into the bowl, bringing them up wet. She stopped in front of Ron, who was walking
forward, now shirt- and trouser-less, and held up the hands. "For lube," she murmured, then
put both hands on his dick.

Ron groaned as she stroked him, working her hands around to make sure he was entirely
covered, eyes locked on Ron's lust-filled face, before stepping to the side and pressing both
hands next into her pussy, opening the lips wide as she turned to watch. "She touched her
brother's dick," Hermione gasped.

Harry chuckled, "Didn't you know? She's sucked his cock a few times, too."

"That's so- gross," Hermione murmured.

"I think it's hot," Harry hissed into her ear, "sort of like a girl fucking her father..."

As she whimpered, Harry bent his knees and drove up between her legs, effortlessly finding
his home once more.

Ron, meanwhile, seemed to take Ginny touching him in stride, and stepped into position. The
lower half of Pansy's rear was hanging off the cushion, and with her legs spread, there was no
difficulty in aiming his rod at her tight, brown star. He frowned, looking over at Harry. "Can I
give your slut orders?"

Half-buried in Hermione, Harry had to struggle to form words, but eventually said, "Y- Yeah,
slut, do everything anyone else in this room tells you."

Ron grinned, reaching out again to fondle Pansy's D-cups, "I want you to cum for me when I
fill your arse, Slytherin slut."

As he said the final word, the wizard drove in, punching all the way into the girl's rectum, all
eleven inches. Pansy screamed in pain, but thankfully, Ron stayed in place for a minute or
more as she slowly adjusted to his size. "Now... I know you're tired," he murmured, "but the
Runes Lyra will put on you now will help. Try to enjoy it, slut- I know I will."

Ron moved slowly at first while Lyra sent him an approving look, beginning to use the girls'
various juices to draw the two-inch wide Runes between her breasts first, then atop her head,
and finally above her clit, before starting with a smaller row moving between them, in layer
after layer.

Ginny, meanwhile, moved over to Lavender, then instructed the girl to put her hands on the
top of the pillory so she was looking down at Pansy's pained yet rapturous expression. Then
Ginny disrobed Lavender too, and knelt between her legs to eat her out from behind. "Ginny
sure loves eating pussy," Harry murmured in Hermione's ear, taking a deeper, longer stroke
every five or six medium-paced ones.

"It- it is pretty fun," Hermione gasped, "but cocks are better."

She came around him a moment later, and the sudden fluttering of her velvety walls around
him made Harry groan, but he kept pumping, stroking in and out of Hermione for more than
five minutes before Pansy's no longer virginal arse coaxed an orgasm out of Ron, and more
bodily fluids joined the bowl

Only then did Harry pull out reluctantly, peppering both sides of Hermione's neck with
kisses. "Sorry, love- duty calls. Perhaps Lavender and Ron can please you, now."

"Mm," Hermione cooed, louder, "I think I'll have Lavender lick the taste of slut off my
boyfriend's long cock. G- Ginny- never mind. Carry on."

Ron groaned as Lavender started blowing him, gasping, "Gods, I love you, Hermione. Any
girl that can watch their man shag a former enemy and tell someone else to blow them as a
reward..."

"We're really lucky blokes," Harry agreed, reaching out a hand to slide over Lyra's pleasant
rump as he took his position too, leaning over Pansy to watch her making out with the
upside-down Ginny.

"Alright, slut... your Master is claiming your pussy. It'll be mine until I give you up, if I ever
do."

"Oh God ye-aaagh!"

Clearly, his new slut hadn't climaxed with Ron as she'd been told, so he reached up and
slapped both tits roughly, then twisted her nipples until Pansy screamed. As the flesh
darkened, Harry reminded her, "You were supposed to come from being fucked in the ass,
slut. You failed, and failure needs to be punished. For that, you'll service Slave, too.
Lavender, Ron's cock's clean enough. Get over here, and straddle our slut's face."

"Th- Thank you, Master," Lavender panted a few seconds later, "for- for letting me get
pleasure from Slut."
Then Ginny stepped up behind the older witch and grabbed one large breast, the other
moving down her back to press two fingers into the sopping folds Pansy had already begun
licking.

Harry grimaced as he pushed into Pansy's eager, smooth, tight depths. "Ah, I forgot. Slave,
you can climax for any of us except Slut, as much as you want, tonight only."

At once, Lavender screamed, too, body shaking and writhing in blissful agony. Her squirt
splattered and sprayed, almost hose-like, up and down Pansy's front, from the floor between
her feet, to wet her black hair and even in a few arcs over it to reach Harry's stomach as her
body experienced a tremendous climax that had, he guessed, been building for days.

"Cruel Master," Lyra teased, reaching out a hand momentarily to pat Lavender, who had
collapsed to her knees, on the head. "Making Slave unable to cum for days... cruel, cruel. But
fair, yes?"

"Y- Yes, Mistress," Lavender cried almost inaudibly.

Ginny, looking immensely pleased with herself, licked her lips to claim more of Lavender's
juices before Lyra could siphon off too much, then went in search of one of the two footstools
in the room to give her the needed height to crouch over Pansy's face herself, facing
Lavender.

She sighed as, unbidden, the girl began her new task.

While Harry thoroughly enjoyed shagging Pansy's amazing pussy, Hermione opened her
mouth to let Ron's load join the stream into the bowl before standing up and leaning low over
Harry to kiss Pansy's clit for several seconds, and giving a shake of the ass in Ron's direction.

When he came up behind her, hard and eager as always, she looked up at Harry, first, then
solemnly behind her, "Fuck me, Daddy... put your big dick in your baby girl's pussy..."

Ron swallowed, blushing, but obeyed, and Hermione groaned, returning her mouth to Pansy's
helpless body while her other boyfriend pulled out of Pansy for a moment to let her taste his
cock with the slut's juices covering in, then returned to his own now more rapid pounding.

"D- Daddy, huh," Ron muttered, "I... not sure how I... feel about... that, but... o-okay."

"Cum in your baby girl's pussy, Daddy," Ginny whimpered while stepping off of Pansy's face
and kissing Lavender, who seemed to be unable to focus much on the task before her now, for
she was writhing and convulsing in another orgasm. "Sister wants to watch you."

Ron groaned, tossing his head from side to side, "Dirty girl..."

"Dirty girls," Harry started, and he, Ginny, and Hermione all finished at once, making him
laugh, "need to be punished."

Ron laughed too, slapping Hermione's rear end with both hands several times, making the
creamy flesh bounce as he started pounding her, too. Ginny shivered, and when Ron caught
her eye, she licked her lips, deliberately dragging her eyes down his body to land on his cock,
which speared her best friend relentlessly.

Harry smiled internally too, though not for the reasons he was externally. Seems like
Hermione, at least for now, is behind the same thing... maybe she liked fucking Daddy more
than she admits? I wouldn't mind having Mum again, now that I mention it... there's things to
be said for experience, not that Hermione or Ginny are lacking now.

Once Pansy's orgasm had passed, Ginny climaxed next while watching Ron and Hermione.
The Slytherin's next climax, spurred on by Harry's fucking and Hermione's oral work, was
exceptionally powerful. Ron followed immediately after, emptying himself into Hermione's
depths, knowing most of it would be 'wasted' as far as anything outside the Runes went.

Finally, after even Ron and Hermione had stepped back to take a break, Harry leaned over
Pansy, pushing two fingers into her gaping, half-sobbing mouth and pulling her head up to
look at him, then resting his other hand over a nipple, pinching it softly as his thrusts grew
increasingly more brutal. "Now, slut," he said, voice low and commanding, "I'm almost
finished, and you can rest if you want while the Runes are finished. Then, you'll be shagging
everyone here. I hope you're ready for something intense... here I cum, slut."

Harry grunted as he pushed in further and further, his cock extending and enlarging
subconsciously as he spurted out, his magically-multiplied seed dripping past him to run
down Pansy's taint and onto the cushion before it was gathered up.

There was a definite squelch as he pulled free, and he looked in pleased awe at the white
froth left behind by his dick's passage, which quickly vanished into the bowl. "Alright," Lyra
murmured without looking up, still scribing away, "I'm about... half-way done, you guys
worked faster this time. I guess you can take a fun-break, but make sure there's plenty for
Pansy later. If I'm to do Lavender's tomorrow, I can't expend too much energy satisfying her
through the night."

Even Harry wanted a chance to catch his breath after that intense climax, so he joined the
others, removing the last few bits of clothing, to leave them by the wayside as light touches
and kisses became the norm.

Then Hermione asked, "So... you sucked Ron's dick, huh?"

Ginny blushed, but looked up at her friend brazenly, "Y-Yeah. So?"

Hermione gave a slight, half-shrug. "It doesn't bother you? I mean, technically that's incest."

The red-head looked at her lighter-haired brother, then shrugged herself. "It... it was weird,
and I didn't like... thinking about it, at first, but the more I did... the more I saw him, how
long he was, how good he fucks you, Hermione... It got me thinking about it. A lot, really.
So... when the chance came, I touched him, then I wanked him, and then I blew him.
Different times, of course."

Hermione nodded, taking the information in with her normal expression of concentration.
Then she looked to Ron. "And you? How did you feel about it?"
Ron blushed even more deeply, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly before admitting,
much quieter, "I... I mean, in some ways a mouth's a mouth, and... Ginny's pretty good. Not
like you, but pretty good. So... that was nice. And... if I'm like, honest here- we're being
totally honest, right?"

Harry nodded, "Sex should always be honest."

Ron swallowed, looking to Ginny and then his girlfriend before glancing at Lavender, who
was rubbing herself slowly laying on the floor between them and Pansy's supine position, "I...
I've been curious for- for a while, how good she was. How... what she looked like, and- stuff.
I mean, I saw her naked when we were kids, but once we turned into... well, puberty and
stuff, I... wondered, every once in a while. I always felt dirty for doing it. Still do, I guess.
But... well, we all know Gin's sexy as hell, right? Like, really fit."

"Damn right," Ginny grinned cockily.

"Well, I... seeing her all the time. Watching Harry shag her, it made me curious what... what
that'd feel like. I haven- we haven't done that, and I don't plan to, but... I was curious, so when
she wanked me, I didn't fight too hard. And with her mouth, well... It was really hard. Er, to
say no, I mean."

Ginny laughed, brushing a hand over Ron's shoulder almost like a lover would, along with
the others. "It was really hard," she added, "even after I was done, he was still hard!"

"I fucked my dad," Hermione blurted, quickly turning purple in shame.

The Weasleys shared a look of surprise.

Slowly, haltingly, the whole story, just as she'd told it to Harry, came out.

Ron listened intently, then asked, quietly, "So when you said Daddy..."

"I was... remembering," Hermione murmured, "And... and now you know every man I've
been with. Wait, no, there's two more- in France, this summer- but I don't... I don't know their
names."

The ginger shook his head, "Okay, well... I... that's... understandable, I guess. I mean, I
wouldn't want to be with Mum, but I know Dad still does, and..."

"I'd shag Daddy," Ginny whispered, "if he asked. He's huge, like Harry almost."

Harry, feeling like he already knew the answer, didn't ask the question burning in his mind.
Instead, he shrugged, "So? He's a nice man, and I suppose he's handsome for a bloke. About
done there, Lyra?"

"Yes, Master," the Succubus said, "on the last Rune now. She's asleep, but she won't be for
long. After a few rounds we should probably free her, though. Don't want cramping."

"Right, right. Lavender, up you get. For the rest of the night, until you're too tired to
continue- you decide when that is, but ask me before you stop- your priority is making Pansy
climax. You can have fun with the others, but I want sixty percent or more of your energy
focused on Slut, okay?"

"Yes, Master," Lavender said at once, immediately going over to stand next to Pansy and
running her hands over the girl's chest while Lyra worked by her pussy.

No... in it, for clearly Lyra was holding her cunt open with two fingers on one hand, and
drawing inside the channel itself with a finger on her other hand, brow furrowed with
concentration.

Then she withdrew, wiping the hand over her brow, though she didn't really sweat unless she
wanted to, "Done... how do you feel, Slut?"

The moment the question was asked, Pansy began to writhe and shake. "Please, please
Mistress, Master, let me cum! I need to cum so bad! I need you, please!"

"You heard the lady," Harry smiled, stepping around to the girl's head and placing himself
near her mouth. Pansy immediately started to lick at his underside, but he didn't let her long
before pushing into her mouth and slowly easing in further and further. With the Runes, he
knew she could hold her breath for several minutes now, and he would let her breathe plenty
in that time. It was hard to face-fuck someone unconscious if they only needed to breath
every six or seven minutes. Even he couldn't hold in a full-face deep-throat for that long, not
when he was good and randy.

Ron in turn shoved his cock into Pansy's dripping pussy, immediately setting to it with
abandon, knowing she wanted it, needed it. He'd felt the same urgency himself. In fact, aside
from Lavender, everyone in the room had. It didn't matter the source when they were in the
throes of lust, they just needed something, anything, to help them cum, and cum again.

"Oh, that's a good twat," Ron groaned, "How come you've been holding out, Harry? She's
really tight."

"I'm sharing," Harry reminded him, then urged the girls closer, "Come on, make her enjoy it.
Slut's done well, it's time to reward her with pleasure. Enjoy it, Slut."

She tried to speak around his cock, but coughed instead, and Harry slowly eased out, grunting
at every ridge and change in pressure along the channel. "Y- Yeth, Master," Pansy groaned,
hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically as first Lavender, then Hermione, claimed a
breast for themselves, suckling and kneading while running their hand over every bit of
exposed snake-skin they could find.

It was a long, glorious, life-changing night for Pansy Parkinson, almost as influential as when
Harry had all-but raped her atop the astronomy tower.

This time, like that one, she did not come to regret.
 Servitude

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 70 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 51: Servitude

Harry woke on Monday in a tangle of bodies again. The bed, for they'd all eventually made it
to the large one in the dungeon after freeing Pansy from her bonds, was shaking beneath him,
and a set of soft, warm lips stroked up and down his cock, not taking him in but moving
along its length in a side-to-side kiss, the tongue occasionally flicking out to wrap around
him.

He expected Lyra, for it was something of a tradition now when finishing a Rune-set for her
and him to be the first awake, but it was not. No... black hair, cut in a cute bob but thoroughly
sweat- and semen-soaked from the previous night, framed Pansy's olive skin as she licked
him. The rocking motion was Ron filling her from behind, in her ass judging by the
Slytherin's grunts, and Harry could only spot the very lower extreme of his mate's sack as it
swung, slapping against Pansy's puffy, abused cunt. A look to the left showed Hermione and
Ginny both wrapped around Lavender, all three still asleep and looking thoroughly shagged
out. Pansy had a few bruises on her wrists and the ankle he could see, but nothing that
wouldn't fade in a few hours given the Runes he knew Lyra had placed on the girl the
previous afternoon.

He was hard, of course, but had no intention of interrupting the girl's more sedate worship of
his flesh while Ron used her for his own satisfaction. Instead, he only murmured, "Hell of a
way to wake up, Slut."

"Harry," Pansy whispered, lips not separating from his dick, "Good morning."

"I'd say it's good," Ron grunted, "Almost as good as your arse, Parkinson. Fuck it's tight!"

Lyra, or actually Lilith, translucent except to himself, stepped through the open door of the
common room, nude, in Harry's preferred childish form. There was a definite droop in her
step, but she looked pleased as she walked around the counter and climbed up onto the bed,
resting a hand on Ron's shoulder as she looked down at the group. "That looks fun, Ron.
Come to think, you haven't been in my tight little ass either, have you? One of these days,
soon, I hope. You'll find it feels even better than Slut's."

"You been having fun?" Harry asked as he put his hands behind his bed and adjusted his
position to be more even on the bed.

She shrugged, "Been gathering cum, the castle was busy last night. Combined, it seems like
our Auras of Arousal are having a strong effect. Or at least, yours is adding a bit to mine. I
gathered a lot. But I need some of yours, Master, if I'm to give Slave Runes, too. I'm pretty
low."

"Get over here and suck me, then," Harry said with a smile, "Slut doesn't mind sharing.
Maybe you should give her your cock, while we're at it."

"Mm... I'll save that for later," the Succubus decided, then crawled up, over Harry, to offer
him her tiny, hairless snatch and reach for his dick, pulling it out of Pansy's oral grip. "My
cock, Slut. Thank you for making Master feel good, but I have dibs."

Pansy whimpered, but did not protest.

Nor did Harry, as the small mouth of the Succubus' current form struggled to engulf him.
Harry sighed in pleasure, shrinking himself slightly but adding, he hoped, similar nodules and
semi-rigid barbs as her own natural penis had, before lifting his head just a tiny bit so he
could reach the delicious pussy, and began to have breakfast from her body.

Ginny was awake to watch Ron climax a few minutes later, yanking his too-sensitive member
out of Pansy's ass and stroking madly as he covered her already sticky back and rump. Harry
couldn't see the girl's reaction to being covered in semen again, but he felt her shuddering and
heard gasping as Ron stood up from the side of the bed.

"Ron," Ginny said softly, "I'm randy. Do you want to eat your sister's dirty cunny?"

Ron swallowed audibly, then muttered, "Er, sh- shit, I... I s'pose I do. Except...well, I'm gettin'
kind of tired. Been up for a couple hours."

"Poo... maybe next time, then. Slut, get over here."

"Mm, no," Hermione's sleepy voice murmured, "I'll do you, Gin... M'awake now, even if I
look hideous right now."

Harry looked up from Lilith's perfect pussy to glare at Hermione. "You know what,
Hermione? You do look a mess, but it's a sexy, glorious, sweaty, cum-covered mess, and I
love the way you look right now."

Hermione blushed, looking away shyly as she rolled over Lavender and settled into a sixty-
nine position herself, sighing as Ginny took the chance to eat her out in return.

Harry let Lilith keep sucking on him for several minutes, even after a couple of orgasms on
his own end, a few on hers, and two each for the girls he loved over his left shoulder. When
he finally urged her off of him, he felt quite full and not at all in the need for breakfast. A
good thing, since it wasn't quite four in the morning yet. Apparently, his wasn't the only sleep
schedule out of whack anymore.

"Showers, homework, breakfast, and classes. If we get time this weekend, we can fuck the
shit out of Lavender for her first Runes," Harry told the group at large, then rose from the
bed, gathering his clothes as he went.

Because they'd all used her so thoroughly, Pansy was given leave by Harry to take the day off
and recover from the very busy night. With an achy, pleased sort of groan the girl staggered,
naked and still dripping out of several orifices, into the left bedroom where she flopped over
the bed and immediately fell asleep while the others were still just rousing and getting ready
for their showers. Lyra, who had no particular care how her grades would look (not being
able to perform most of their wanded magic and not having a wand of her own struggled with
the practicals anyway), was happy to kneel between Harry's knees while he worked on his
own schoolwork until the sun rose. The wet smacking and licking with occasional moans and
sighs had the rest, including a shattered-looking Lavender, sending several jealous glances his
way and had all the human girls rubbing their thighs together suspiciously while they
worked.

Harry enjoyed Lyra's tongue and lips on his shaft and scrotum immensely for the two and a
half hours they worked on homework, but she didn't once take him inside her mouth. That
left him nursing a painful, bruised-looking and swollen pair of testicles and a desperate need
to release the build-up when breakfast did roll around.

Once they got to the Great Hall, Harry sat with Ron on his right, Hermione across from them
both, with Ginny on the bookworm's right and Neville beyond her, and Lavender to Ron's
other side. Harry didn't say anything when the red-head dropped her fork, which was
suspiciously empty of eggs, and slipped beneath the table to retrieve it. A few seconds later
she was translucent to him and completely invisible to everyone else. Hermione sent him a
knowing smirk as Ginny twisted to her knees between Harry's legs. Then she shifted her
knickers to the side and presented her pale ass and pink pussy to him. Harry grinned as the
girl gave a little wiggle, then reached down to free himself from his trousers, no longer caring
much if anyone spotted him. Ginny reached beneath her legs to angle him down and then
pushed back, letting his tip slip inside her. Then Hermione stiffened and moaned for a
moment before relaxing and hunching forward slightly.

Ron blinked, glancing downward to see Harry, from his point of view, with a moistened cock
pointing between the table and something invisible working it back and forth. "Mornin',
Lyra," he murmured, then adjusted his own erection to be more easy to free when it was his
turn.

As worked up as Harry had been due to Lyra's teasing, he still let Ginny do all the work. She
set a slow pace, but gyrated her hips so it seemed like her pussy was corkscrewing around
him, a technique only Lilith had ever used on him like this.

Hermione's rapid, shallow breathing and an only partially-masked whimper signaled an

orgasm brought on swiftly by Ginny's amazing talent. Harry felt his own swell at the sight,
and he let himself fill Ginny's quim with a tight grunt. Several drops splattered onto the floor,
and a couple of the nearby students' noses wrinkled as the petite girl turned again to suck
Harry clean, then sidled over to Neville.

Harry surreptitiously dropped a napkin onto the floor to assist Ginny in cleaning up the mess,
but she ignored it as she started sinking onto Neville's squat shaft, too.

Ron frowned momentarily, and Harry was sure he knew why. The tallest among them was
usually the second to get their breakfast orgasm out of the way, but as he looked down the
table at their other friend for a moment, he muttered over to Harry, "'S much as I love a good
suck from below the table, a shag's probably worth the wait."

"Probably right, mate," Harry agreed.

Ginny, Harry could see, was performing the same sort of motions on Neville as she'd used on
him, only at a much faster pace. Within a few minutes, just as Ron was going for his third
helping of bacon and eggs, Ginny rose off him in a hurry and spun to take his load into her
mouth while Neville clutched at the bench, red-faced with the intensity of his quick orgasm.

Ron glanced around, then reached down to unzip his fly as Harry saw Ginny wink up at him,
show him Neville's load, then swallow it before carefully crossing the sea of legs to Harry's
other side.

As subtly as he could, the dark-haired wizard watched as his semi-invisible Pet fished her
brother's engorged member out of his trousers, gripped it around the base, and then closed her
lips over his tip, to sink lower and lower.

"No p- eh, I can't complain," Ron murmured, shifting his hips forward a little. Seamus and
Dean were on his other side from Harry, but as they weren't getting any daily pleasure at the
breakfast table, none of them felt like drawing any more attention than was necessary.

"Good choice," replied Harry quietly, "Because I don't think she'd do it anymore if you did."

"Stop me before I ever do, then," his best friend chuckled, "'Cause this feels amazing."

Harry looked down at Ginny's face, but it was mostly obscured by the table now that Ron had
shifted. He could see her reach a hand beneath her own uniform skirt to pleasure herself as
she continued blowing her brother. "Yeah, she's pretty amazing," he told both of them at
once, knowing Ginny would understand his meaning.

Then he looked up to the doors, where Lyra was making her usual grandiose entrance, as if
her sheer good looks and popularity had made her something of a queen within the school.
Which I suppose it has, Harry grinned to himself, but she's my queen, like Hermione and
Ginny.

A few seconds later, the Succubus slipped into the empty spot Ginny had left, "'Morning,
everyone."

After the chorus of returns, Ron blinked once, twice. Then looked down between his legs,
where drool and slobber was being gathered by an invisible mouth and tongue that moved
back and forth over half his length.

Harry smirked as he watched the other boy's brow furrow as if concentrating deeply while his
eyes slowly moved over the group. Hermione, Lavender, check. Hannah's over at the
Hufflepuff table, check. Pansy didn't come up, and probably can't go that deeply invisible.
Check. Neville, Harry, check. And now he's realizing...

Ron's face reddened, and his knuckles went white around a goblet and his fork.

Then he, too, grunted, louder than the others, as he reached a most satisfying conclusion.

Harry grinned again as Ron shot him a sort of amused, but betrayed look, "Did you plan
this?"

Harry shook his head, "Nope. All her idea."

"Cheeky," Ron muttered, then looked down, "You'd better clean it up."

Ginny had already swallowed most of him, but Harry was then treated to the sight of Ginny
doing exactly what her brother had told her to, before gently tucking him back inside his
trousers and doing up the zipper. "I've got to wait until some people leave to get out."

"Right," Harry chuckled quietly, "I'll take off in a second, then. Hermione, don't you have
Ancient Runes?"

The red-faced girl, who had also just realized who had been the one invisibly pleasing her
and the others at the table, shot up. "That's right! Sorry, Harry, Ron, I need to go, we've got an
exam today and I don't want to be late!"

A few minutes later, he and Ron were on their way to the library when a sudden tug on both
of their hands sent Harry lurching into a nearby classroom a moment before Ron. "What the-"

If he were honest with himself, Harry was more surprised that someone had taken him by
surprise and been strong enough to move him against his will than anything else, but as the
giggling, still glistening face of Ginny Weasley shimmered into view, he smiled along with
her and stood up. "Did you have fun there, Gin?"

"Gods, yes," she answered after her laughter was a bit more under control, "The looks on
both your faces..."

"I meant beneath the table, Pet."

She immediately quelled her amusement, at least outwardly, as Ron turned beet-red himself.
She assumed a more solemn stance with her hands behind her back, but nodded. "I did,
Master."

"You liked taking Lyra's place, being the group's cum-hole?"

Again, Ginny nodded, "Yes, Master."

Ron was the next to speak, "And you think it's funny to suck your brother's dick in public like
that? In the rooms is one thing, but..."

"No one can see me like that except Lyra and Harry," the girl replied, completely unabashed,
"so it doesn't matter, unless you blab."

"But still, there's the principle of the thing," Ron continued, waving a hand in circles as he
stepped past Harry toward the nearest, dust-covered desk to sit on it. "What if someone else
had been around, or Dean or Seamus said something?"

"I wouldn't have done it if someone else was around, Ron," Ginny reminded him easily, "and
Harry's got your other roommates sufficiently in pussy that they'd be morons to say anything
except, 'hey, can I get some of that', right, Harry?"

He shrugged, "Probably, and she's right about the invisibility, Ron. Even Dumbledore can't
see through it, because it's like what Lilith can do. That's her power from the second set of
Runes."

Ron's sharp mind quickly put several clues together, and he pointed an accusing finger at his
sister, "You! You're the one that's been watching me and Hermione!"

"And you and Lyra, too," she reminded him with a renewed chuckle, "and Hannah when you
think you can get away with it."

Ron blushed, sending a nervous look Harry's way.

But the dark-haired wizard just shrugged, "I don't care who you shag, Ron, you know that.
Nev might care, but we made it clear that if Hannah joined our group, she'd basically be free
game. They can be boyfriend and girlfriend and still have sex with other people, just like
Hermione and we started with."

"That's still not the point," Ron muttered, looking away as he continued to burn with
embarrassment, "You- you've been watching me have sex. Me."

"Well, you're good at it," Ginny reasoned, "And I like to watch. Always have, ever since I
saw Mum and Dad doing it once."

"But I'm still your brother."

"And you like it when I blow you. Your argument isn't holding much water, Ron."

"To be fair," Harry pointed out, "I don't know any blokes who'd turn down someone sucking
their todger. He likes it when Iris does, too."

"Oh?" Ron suddenly looked terrified at his sister's predatory grin, but she just asked, "And
have you fucked her, too?"

He looked away, "You- you know I have."

Then she looked back at Harry, "And Master liked it, too, didn't he?"
"She," he reminded her, "Iris is a... well, she may as well be a different person. But yes, she
liked it a lot, just like with you."

"Sweet. Well, I'm off to go see if I can convince Hannah to let me play with her big tits for a
bit, since she doesn't have any classes this period, either. Have fun, you too."

Once the door had slammed shut behind her, Ron rubbed his face tiredly. "That girl... Mum is
gonna kill me, you know?"

"Only if she finds out," Harry pointed out, "And I don't think Ginny will tell her. She's
wanted you too long. You know she started watching you and Hermione shagging before I
ever got to the Burrow this summer, right? She wouldn't have done anything at breakfast
without wanting to, either. She's probably trying to get you to return the favor again."

"Damned pervert," he muttered, making Harry laugh.

"Yeah, but she's our pervert. I have to ask, though... when she asks, will you do it? You don't
have to answer, but think about it."

"When she asks what? Oh... never mind," Ron grumbled, "I know what you mean. I don't
have an answer yet, though. I... it seems a bridge-troll too far, if you know what I mean, but...
well... she's really good at what she does."

"And what she does is tempt you?"

Ron nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Well, like I said, just think about it. No pressure either way. Come on, let's go find Hannah,
too. I bet she'd be willing with all three of us."

"Heh, maybe. Not too long before DADA, though."

"Still half an hour, we'll just have to be quick."

"Too right. Let's go."

At dinner that night, Harry was pleased to see that Lavender, while sitting with her closest,
gossipy friend Parvati Patil, was strangely quiet about where she'd been all of Sunday. Pansy,
when she limped in shortly before they left, spoke earnestly and quietly with Daphne and
Tracey before assembling a small plate for herself.

Ron, always a consumer of more food than the others, stayed in the Great Hall for a while
after Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Lyra had left, the Succubus passing on a whispered
instruction to Lavender as they passed by her and Parvati to join them when she had eaten her
fill and made her excuses to her best friend for why she would be unavailable for the evening
once again, and not to expect her in the dormitory despite it being a weeknight.

The moment the quarters' door closed behind Harry, after letting all three ladies pass first,
Hermione rounded on him with a question, even as she joined Ginny and Lyra in removing
their public clothing and changing into something more comfortable: underthings and
nothing but. "Okay, Harry, this is weird enough. Pansy being a sub was one thing, and easily
explained. But Lavender doesn't really seem the type. Or wouldn't have, until last night. I
didn't think to question it in the moment, but now... why was she so obedient to you?"

Lyra answered before he could, dropping onto one of the armchairs and hooking her legs up
onto it to rub circles over her knickers in plain view of the others, shameless in her sexuality.
"Master did what he should have done with Romilda Vane."

"Okay," Hermione probed, "that's part of the answer, but what's the rest?"

"With Romilda," Lyra explained, still rubbing herself while sending smoldering gazes in the
others' directions, for she alone was never fully satisfied at breakfast (not that Harry felt she
was ever really satisfied), "Master used his Eye of Dominance and Tempting Gaze
simultaneously. The latter made Romilda more vulnerable to the former, and even though he
wasn't using it intentionally and only has the weakest form of the power, against an
undefended girl's mind, it was extremely potent. Because he wanted her to submit to his and
Ron's sexual advances, he broke her will to do anything but that, creating the need for
constant sexual gratification in one form or another.

"I stepped in shortly after, adding my own commands, which gave her more options.
Essentially, Master made her only able to receive true pleasure from him or Ron. I made her
able to receive pleasure from anyone and anything, which allowed her to recover much
faster."

"Okay," Ginny asked, sitting down in the other chair and rubbing a hand over her bra-clad
chest, stealing glances down at Lyra's fingers, "that makes some sense, but what's the
difference with Brown?"

"Intent," Harry supplied, "I meant to use the powers on her, for one thing."

"And they were more controlled because of it," Lyra added. "Because he knew he was using
the powers, he was more able to control what he asked Lavender to do. He made her willing,
in part, but she already was. He made her enjoy being controlled, but part of her already did,
or she'd never have told Master she 'liked it rough'. She and Slut aren't the same in their
tastes, but there are plenty of similarities."

"So it's... something like the difference between a controlled spell-cast and accidental
magic?"

Lyra nodded in Hermione's direction, "I suppose that's a good analogy. Romilda's free will
was taken away almost completely. Don't blame Master, it's not like he did it on purpose, and
he did everything right to give it back to her. With Lavender, her free will was given away,
though not entirely. She's still herself. She will change, over the next few weeks as her Runes
settle in, in far smaller ways than Romilda did, and she won't crave sex constantly. She will,
however, prove to be a most willing partner for all of us... or nearly anyone else who asks,
unless Master tells her otherwise. Of course, if he wanted Lavender to be only his, he could
just command it and she would obey, but Master is generous and likes to share."
"Yes," Hermione said with a mournful sigh even as she started to run a hand between her legs
while standing up, too, "and his 'sharing' is taking over all our lives. Not that I'm really
complaining, but..."

"Yes, all the earth-shattering orgasms do tend to be a good icing for the cake, don't they,"
Ginny teased.

There was a knock on the door, and Ginny and Hermione both froze, though Lyra did not. A
moment later, before Harry could reach it, Neville stuck his head in, glancing about. "Ah...
well, hello, everyone. I- we, H- Hannah and I, were wondering if we... could have some fun
with you lot?"

"We kind of have plans," Harry told the other boy, but as he watched Neville's face fall, he
added quickly, "but you two are welcome to join. The more the merrier. We're just waiting on
Ron and Lavender."

Hannah, who pushed her boyfriend into the room before entering herself asked, "Brown?
She's.. joining our little group, then?"

Harry nodded, "Turns out she likes to do what she's told, at least if I'm the one telling her,
so.... yeah. You two want a go at her? We were going to give her the first Rune-set today."

Neville groaned, "Damn, I'd like a piece of her, yeah."

Harry marveled at how far the shy boy had come since getting his first head from Lilith the
previous year, saying something like that aloud (or even thinking it to himself), but he still
blushed at making such a crass statement in front of so many girls, including his girlfriend.

Hannah gave Harry an appraising look, then nodded. "I s'pose that's alright, she's pretty for
sure. You aren't neglecting Susan though, are you Harry?"

He swallowed, confused. "Um... no? I mean, she told me she preferred to wait, so I was
giving her time to be ready."

Ginny, Lyra, Hermione, and Hannah all sighed at once. "Harry," Lyra said, surprising him
with the use of his given name, "Susan is shy. She probably wants you to make the first
move. Ask her out this weekend, or to the first Hogsmeade Weekend, or something."

"R- Really? I mean... I suppose I can do that," Harry muttered, glancing down at feeling like
an idiot all of a sudden, "it's just... the last few times I asked girls out, it... didn't go well."

"You have learned a bit since then," Neville supplied reasonably.

"True... alright, if you are all sure that's the right course of action, I'll talk to her about it when
I can. Anyway, Ron should be here soon, but Lyra told Lavender she could make whatever
preparations she felt were necessary before coming down."

The door slammed open suddenly, bumping into Hannah and sending her stumbling into
Neville, whose enhanced strength caught her easily enough.
"S- Sorr-mph," Lavender moaned, body twisting in the grasp of one Ronald Weasley, who
had his tongue in her mouth and hands on her ass, "c-couldn't see."

"Ron, leave her alone," Harry ordered, "Lavender, if he doesn't stop kissing you within three
seconds, shove him off."

Ron, of course, lingered for about five seconds, testing boundaries or just losing track of time
with the highly attractive blonde's hands on his arse and tongue wrestling with his. He
grunted when Lavender shoved him away, resisting, but the girl slipped from his grasp after
stomping on his foot rather hard. "Master said stop," Lavender told him, voice cold and
imperious.

"C'mon, mate," Ron muttered, glaring softly at Harry and gesturing down at his bulging
trousers, "you said we were gonna give her Runes, right? I was just getting started a bit
early."

His best friend had changed a lot over the last six years, mostly the last three months (and
hadn't they all), but every once in a while some of his old selfishness creeped through. Harry
raised one eyebrow, and Ron fell quiet. The ginger glanced around the room for support, and
finding none, looked away a bit sheepishly. "S- Sorry."

"It's much easier to put on Runes if Lyra can see what she's doing, so we need Slave
undressed, don't we?"

"Yes, Master," Lavender said with a shudder, immediately and shamelessly reaching for her
tie and undressing as quickly as possible. Ron, Neville, and Hannah followed suit, if the latter
two did so a bit more leisurely, and Harry took off his own sedately. While Ron and Neville
could go for a few hours now that their own Runes had settled in fully, Harry's stamina was
nearly, or at least functionally, unlimited. He could fuck as much as he wanted, so it was only
polite to let the others wear themselves out before he got too needy. There was always plenty
left, since the girls of the group could go for a long time too, longer even than the boys, and
there were more of them.

"Slave, go into that room there," he pointed at the dungeon after Lavender had stood before
them all, completely nude, "and lay down on your back on the bed. Put your hands and feet
near the posts, and do not move until I tell you otherwise. You may speak if you have
questions, but address them only to me or your Mistress Lyra."

"Yes, Master," the doe-eyed blonde said immediately, slipping through the gap between Ron
and Hermione toward the door. Lyra lead the way, with Harry after her, still slowly
undressing himself from the waist down, and finished with his shoes, one hand on the back of
the conjured couch, as the others filed into the room in various states of arousal.

Neville, Ron, myself, Hermione, Ginny, Hannah, Lyra. Three blokes, four birds. Hm...

"Slave," Harry said once his trousers were off, leaving him partially clad in his boxers though
everyone else was as naked as Lavender was. They stood around the bed while she looked up
at them a bit, showing some nervousness in her expression but otherwise docile as he joined
the loose circle, "you will not move from that spot until I or Mistress Lyra tell you
otherwise... no matter how good you feel. You may buck your hips, gasp, pant, but you will
follow my previous instructions about speaking. Make all the lewd noises you want, but
words aside from asking questions of myself or Mistress Lyra are forbidden. That includes
dirty talk, since I know you like that. You will be silent except to ask those questions or make
noises."

The girl began to nod, then stopped herself, realizing the trap. She couldn't move, couldn't
speak, so how could she acknowledge his order...?

Harry let her wrestle with it for a few seconds, then amended, "Answering a direct question
from myself or Mistress Lyra is always allowed, Slave."

"I- I understand, Master," Lavender said with a tiny shudder flowing through her from the
head down, then out from her torso up each arm and down both legs at the same time.

"She's really wet," Ginny observed from the foot of the bed, positioned to give herself the
best view of Lavender's now-shaved cunt, "it's running out of her."

"Now, I'm going to ask you some questions, Slave," Harry said quietly, stepping in a bit more
to sit casually on the edge of the bed and fold his hands on his lap while he admired
Lavender's stunning figure. "You will answer honestly and completely. First: did you
willingly enter into slavery to me?"

The girl blinked a few times, then took a deep, shuddering breath. "Y-y-yes, Master, I did."

"Good. That makes me feel a little better, hearing you say that. You aren't just saying it
because you think that's what I want to hear, are you? I really do want honesty."

Lavender immediately shook her head, seeming terrified.

In response, Harry's left hand lashed out, slapping across her right tit with the back of his
hand. She yelped loudly, and Neville cried, "Hey!"

Harry glanced up at his friend, "Slave disobeyed a command, and needed to be punished.
Isn't that right, Slave?"

Lavender whimpered, but immediately replied, voice shaking with pain and embarrassment
both, "Y-yes, M-mMaster!"

"Now... were you being honest?"

"Y-yes, Master."

"Did you willingly have sex with me in the broom closet?"

"Yes, Master," she said, sounding more sure and less hesitant.

"Last night, you had sex with several people in this room. Were you unhappy about that?"

"I live to serve Master," Lavender intoned.

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing about the room to see equally surprise faces. "Then why
did you shag the others?"

Lavender blinked up at him, seeming confused, "I... I thought you wanted me to?"

His hand slapped out again after a few seconds, slashing across the top of her left tit, too. She
cried out again, and he waited until her nipple began to stiffen under the surprise contact
before telling her, "You didn't address me as Master, Slave."

"I'm sorry Master," she whimpered back.

Harry sat thoughtfully for a few minutes, listening to and watching Lavender's chest rise and
fall with her breath, "If I told you you had to shag Dumbledore, would you do it?"

"Yes, Master," Lavender whimpered.

"So you would shag anyone I told you to?"

"Y-yes, Master."

"So you aren't just a slave, you're also a slut."

"N-no, Master," Lavender cried, "I'm your slave!"

"Mm... what if I ordered you to be a slut, too?"

"I- I would shag everyone in the castle for Master!"

"Well, fortunately for your tender cunt, that isn't necessary," Harry said, finally putting a hand
on her body and sliding it down between her legs to grip one thigh, not quite touching her
sex. She whimpered and shook, but held still. "The seven of us can shag more than the rest of
the school put together, if we wanted... and if not, we're pretty close. Next question: Would
you like the ability to shag more, longer, harder, get more pleasure from it, not get tired as
quickly, and recover faster for more?"

"I- I don't understand the question, Master," Lavender eventually asked, looking up at him a
bit scared.

He raised an eyebrow, and she elaborated, "M-Master, I... I like to shag, Master, for you. If
Master wants me to shag I will."

Lyra took pity on the girl, sitting down on the side opposite Harry but mirroring his position,
to trail her long, thin fingers between Lavender's bountiful breasts and up her chin, following
her jaw as she said, "What Master is trying to tell you is that there are human limits even for
a slave. His friends have surpassed those, with my help, and he's offering to do the same for
you."

"M- Master would treat- treat his Slave with the same... same care as his friends?"
Harry nodded at her solemnly, then said quietly, "Lavender, you are my friend. You are Slave
because you want to be. But I haven't forgotten that talk we had in the Hospital Wing last
year, and the too-few conversations since. I'm asking what you want, because I'll give it to
you either way. Er, give you which one you choose."

Sudden tears welled up in Lavender's light-brown eyes. "I... I want to be with Master," she
whispered, "as- as much as I can."

"Runes it is, then," he announced, surprising no one, though Ron faked a gasp, sending a
ripple of chuckles around the circle.

"Last question. Do you prefer the company of boys or girls, Slave?"

Lavender blushed, glancing around the room, "I- I prefer boys," but hastened to add, "but
Slave will satisfy anyone Master instructs her to."

Ah, that'll work then, Harry decided. "Well, you are a slave, Slave, so you don't always get
what you want. Ginny, you'll have her mouth, teach her how to use it well. Lyra, you can fuck
her in the ass, and I'll take that pretty cunt I own, in that order. Hermione, Hannah, you two
are alright satisfying Neville, Ron, and I in the meantime, right?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Hannah said, surprising Harry by walking around Neville to
reach for his own hand, and pull him up from the bed.

He let her, and Hannah tugged him the few steps necessary to reach the couch, then turned to
push him onto it. The moment he sat down, Hannah straddled him and sank onto his length
with a sigh. As her body adjusted to holding him, Harry leaned in to suckle at one of her
great teats, as large as Lyra's if not quite as firm, and used the other to travel over the
Hufflepuff's luscious, curvy body. "I missed your cock in me," Hannah gasped, then started to
gyrate.

As Hannah started to ride him, Harry watched over his shoulder as Hermione sank to her
knees, peppering kisses down Ron's chest and stroking her hands down Neville's, before
taking the black-haired boy's short, fat dick in her mouth, stretching wide to accommodate it,
and stroking Ron's. "Oh, that's good," Neville groaned.

"Suck him, Hermione," Ron murmured, eyes locked on her mouth, "suck that big, fat cock."

Over Hannah's other shoulder, Ginny was giving rather clinical instructions to Lavender
while sitting on the slave's face. His Pet glanced over at Harry with a wink, then reached
down to pinch both of Lavender's protruding nipples, "No, you stupid bint! You have to lick,
don't just tongue-fuck me! You have to start small, get me in the mood!"

Harry grinned. Ginny seemed to truly enjoy telling Lavender what to do, judging by the
almost sadistic look in her eyes as she ordered the girl between her legs to please her better.
But he knew Ginny, and there was no malice there, no hatred, and probably no jealousy.
Ginny liked a few things very well, quidditch and sex among them, and aside from that
mostly didn't care what others got up to, so there was no reason for her to be jealous of
Lavender in any way.
... Right?

"That's it, you dumb bitch, that's all you're good for. Eating pussy and sucking cock, or
spreading your legs for our pleasure. Yes... unh... Faster... lick me more. Kiss my clit!"

Harry was distracted from watching his girlfriend instruct his new slave by Hannah climbing
off of him, up onto the couch, and turning around to present her dripping, blonde-furred
pussy to him. Then she wrapped her hands around her thighs and bent down, wobbling
slightly, to look at him between her legs. "Hungry, Harry? I know I am."

He'd already put his hands on her bum to help steady her, but Harry grinned down at the
Hufflepuff, "Yeah... eat up."

He started first, stretching his tongue out with his new Body Morphology powers so it was
roughly the size of the average penis but twice as long, and gave her a good laving while
Hannah adjusted her position, shifting her rump back against his face and stroking him before
taking his head in her mouth again. Harry let her blow him for a few minutes, focusing on the
task at hand, until Hannah climaxed onto his face and he, once more, felt that rush of both
pleasure and satisfaction as he licked up her juices with his magically enlarged tongue. I
wonder how big I can make it...?

He then pushed his tongue into the girl, and she gasped, crying out. Around his own muscle,
Harry said, "Liff vaat, Hammafh?"

"Oh, Morgana, yes, Harry! Your tongue's so big!"

Grinning into her crotch at the usefulness of his ability to change his body, Harry swelled his
tongue up even more, twisting it into something like a screw shape, then started working it in
and out of the girl while she sucked on him harder and harder. Hannah came on his tongue
soon after, far more quickly than he'd expected, and experienced a third climax right after that
before he let go of her with one hand to reach down and shove her head further onto him,
giving her something to eat, too.

After his own orgasm passed, Hannah, now Rune-enhanced herself, barely needed a moment
to recover before climbing off him only to reach between her legs and guide his just-lubed
head against her anus before sinking onto it with a sigh. "Oh, yes, that's.... that's what I
needed. Gods I love a fat cock in my ass..."

Harry reached around Hannah to pull her against him so he could push a few fingers into her
equally slick twat, working three of them in and out of her hole while his thumb flicked over
her clitoris' hood, and the other caressed the girls' stomach, then moved up to cup the
underside of one of her luscious boobs.

Ginny's instructions were growing both more firm and frantic, but her work was
overshadowed by Hermione with both Neville's and Ron's dicks, very different in shape and
size, both in her mouth at once, pumping away vigorously while she moaned and fingered
herself. Neville was the first to blow, and he gave Hermione a few wild pumps and thrusts
before pulling out to spray over her cheeks and throat, letting it dribble down onto her own
generous chest. As Neville drew back, likely too sensitive to continue, Ron shuddered at the
sight of one of his favorite fetishes, cum-covered tits, and started climaxing himself, though
he only gave Hermione a single burst to swallow before he aimed the rest of his load at her
lovely body.

Lavender, shaking now, was the next to climax even though no one was touching her genitals
or providing active stimuli aside from Ginny, who came herself a moment later. "That- that's
it, Slave... drink my juices up like the good slave you are... but now, I gotta show you how it's
done."

Lyra, already positioned and ready with a Harry-sized cock growing out of her beautiful
feminine form, grinned as she stroked herself. "Go ahead, eat her out."

In the brief pause, Ginny had already lain herself down over Lavender's supine torso and set
to, while continuing to grind her own cunt into Lavender's face. Hannah's sphincter tightened
on Harry as she climaxed again, but didn't slow as she watched Neville hike Hermione's
knees up onto his shoulders and push into her own tight cunt. Ron, meanwhile, straddled the
bookworm's head, allowing her to lick his hanging balls while he rubbed both his own and
Neville's cum into Hermione's skin, occasionally pulling the stickiness away to marvel at it.

While he watched, Ron scooted forward slightly, just an inch or so so Hermione could still
lick the underside of his sack, and angled his pole between her tits, then reached out with
both hands to press them around him. "Fuck... sticky... hot..."

Lavender came hard a moment later, screaming and writhing under Ginny, but her hands and
legs stayed exactly where Harry had told her to leave them, with the red-head following a
moment later, a smaller one than before. Then Ginny sat up again, pulling Lavender's legs up
against heavy resistance, "Do it, Slave," she growled, "it will hurt less when Mistress Lyra
fucks you. Master doesn't care, but keep the position I'm putting you in."

"Obey," Harry grunted, feeling his balls swell and tighten with another climax coming soon.
He wasn't the hugest fan of anal, but Hannah was really into it, and he could provide.
Besides, she was tight.

Lavender stopped fighting, letting Ginny pull her knees up to the girl's shoulders, which
hiked and opened her cunt and ass for future use, then the girl rose off the bed, watching their
slave for a moment to see if she stayed as she was. "Good slave. Lyra will enjoy this, won't
she?"

"You know I will," the Succubus said, stroking her cock as she pressed the thick head against
Lavender's mostly-unused anus.

As she slowly worked her way in, Ginny moved over to Harry and Hannah, watching them
intently while fingering herself and squeezing one small breast, before stepping between his
legs and leaning over to kiss Hannah deeply. "You're beautiful," the girl said after pulling
away, "I want to make you feel good, too, Hannah. I was sad I couldn't find you this
morning."

Soon, the blonde had three of Ginny's fingers in her pussy as well as two of Harry's, while
each of them had a hand on one of her breasts, though Ginny was also suckling on the nipples
of both. It was amazing, and he could feel Ginny's slender fingers gripping at his cock
through Hannah's vaginal walls, the extra sensation adding that much more intensity to what
he was feeling.

I hope I never get too used to this, Harry thought quietly, even amid the rapid buildup of the
second climax into Hannah's ass in the last few minutes. Not just the shagging, but the
variety. The single sex is great, making love or what the Yanks call 'fuckin' according to
Dean, but the threesomes, and the four, and more... I hope it never gets old.

At least, no matter how many times I finish, I always seem to want more.

... Ironic that I Summoned Lilith a few months ago for that same problem, never being
satisfied. But I do get satisfied now, I just like being satisfied a lot.

Still, as his rigid cock throbbed and pulsed with several more jets of cream, Hannah bucking
on him and against his and Ginny's fingers, Harry was filled with a sense of quiet need. Not
longing, not desperation, and not loneliness. It was more a feeling that the rotating group sex
with several of his closest friends, adding one more to the mix on a permanent basis while
one gained just the night before rested from that trial was not enough. Harry was getting a lot
of 'play time' with the opposite sex, but he knew it wasn't enough.

Not the sheer number of times he climaxed in a day. That was satisfactory, maybe even
unhealthy for all his ability to do so.

Nor the hours per day spent in intimate contact or new adventures regarding carnal things.
That, Harry was sure, was well beyond what society at large would consider acceptable, and
he'd only started this new life less than half a year earlier.

It was that he wanted more.

He wanted this... this ritual, and the one that came next, for all those girls he considered
'home'.

Hannah was a borrowed home, yes, but Neville and she had both wanted what it provided,
and gone into it knowing that. Neither seemed upset to share, even eager for it more often
that not, though both still spent more time together alone than with the group. And Harry was
fine with that.

Hermione, Ginny, and Lilith in whatever guise, were home in a greater sense, and with the
Runes, Harry felt it would be enough to just be with them in whatever capacity for the rest of
his life.

But he had been with so many more, and wanted to keep doing that. "Plowing new fields,"
he'd heard one of the Weasley twins call it a couple years earlier, before he'd had the context
to understand it. Muggles might use 'sowing wild oats' instead, but the meaning was the
same.

Harry liked the variety of multiple women.

Of course, there were also Pansy and Lavender, who he knew would now be so addicted to
sex- and sex wtih the group in particular- that they wouldn't be able to stay away long if they
did try and stop. No one else would be able to satisfy them like he and his friends could
accomplish.

But...

He winced as Hannah climbed off his rod, for she'd clenched particularly hard when pulling
away from his cap. Then, to his shock, both Hannah and Ginny climbed further in between
his knees and started cleaning him with their mouths, swapping saliva, feces (not that there
was much of that) and semen with each other as they licked all over his still hard length and
balls.

"That's sexy," he moaned, "and feels really good."

Hannah seemed entranced, still too new to this world she'd entered to control herself, but
Ginny's eyes were alight with pleasure and mischief both as they worked him over. Finally,
she put her thin lips over his tip and sucked the last bit of cum out of his pipe before standing
up, turning around Hannah, and dropping onto the couch beside him. "Now that your cock is
clean for Lavender," Ginny said, "Lyra looks about done with her bum. I'll keep our
Huffleslut busy, Harry... though if Neville wants to fuck her, he can put it in my mouth to
switch things up. You're on top, Hannah."

Neville, having pulled out of Hermione to cover her stomach and tits again, quickly rose to
watch as Hannah moved to cover Ginny along the rest of the couch. The red-head's head was
up on the opposite armrest, so Hannah's blonde plaits swung down to tickle Ginny's thighs as
she began eating the bare pussy his Pet liked to keep.

Hermione had started to straddle Ron, and was grinding her clit against his stomach with one
hand on his chest and the other on his thighs, arched back and away as she looked between
the action on the couch, and Lyra. The Succubus was bent over the arched, open body of
Lavender, and humping down into her with great fervor.

But... Harry wanted the rest of his 'home' girls.

Daphne, his first, the one who even though she had been sexually active before had never
been broken by a man, so was at least in some sense a virgin too, that first crazy night.
Tracey, with her, was a borrowed home as well, but he wanted to feel her tiny tightness again
and again. Katie had felt the same though in a decreased manner. Could he steal her from the
Weasley twins? Did he want to?

... Would it be stealing?

That the Beaters and Chasers he'd known when he first arrived at Hogwarts had all decided to
enter into a polyamorous relationship before the death of Alicia had been shocking to hear,
but would that still be the case now? Katie seemed to wonder.

... Would she be willing to try the same with him, and his larger circle of friends?
Harry was not sure. But he knew the circle of friends he had now was enough in some ways,
and not in others. He wanted to watch Daphne, who thought of herself as a lesbian, speared
by three cocks and loving it.

Tiny Tracey, scared of men (aside from apparently Harry), worshiping a handful of cocks in
succession.

He wanted his friends to be happy.

And aside from ending Voldemort (which had somehow fallen in priority in recent days as a
goal), this was the best way he knew how. Crazy, maybe, but his friends did seem happier.
Less stressed, more mature, more powerful, confident, and... well, happy.

Harry rose from the couch as Lyra climaxed into Lavender's rear, jerking quickly a few times
before pulling away and gesturing to remove her seed to add it to the bowl along with
Lavender's and Ginny's from earlier. While his friends continue to make love with each other,
Harry felt a sense of rightness fall over him again.

This is what I want... I just want more of it.

Yes, that's true.

His conviction renewed, Harry climbed up onto the bed and took the same position Lyra had,
though he pulled the Lavender's legs onto his chest, letting her lower a bit to save her muscle
and back strain.

Lyra sprouted her wings and lifted off to hover over Lavender, and giggled as the girl's eyes
widened, but she said nothing. "Now you know, Slave," the Succubus said quietly, "you will
belong to Master now, just like me... but like me, you will love it. He's a good Master. Now,
since I can start drawing Runes... "

This time, she started with a small set at the outside edge's of the witch's brow, just in front of
her temples where her hair began. Each was small, and took maybe ten minutes total as Harry
rested his thick cock between Lavender's thighs over her slit, and stroked gently while he
watched the Succubus work.

He new it was cruel, working Lavender up like that, running his shaft along her clit and slit
but not putting it in when she wanted it desperately, wanted to please him as only a slave
could. Worse, he'd told her she could not speak words, so the girl could not ask.

Still, he wanted to see the difference between Pansy's and Lavender's sets. They were already
quite a lot different in formation, he'd never seen her put any Runes onto the brow edges at
all, and only his own and Hermione's had had much on the head at all.

She moved down next to the Sacral chakra, just above Lavender's small patch of fur, and
lifted Harry's cock to draw a larger Rune there, one he had gathered involved pleasure,
tracing it twenty-one times in her own jizz and Ginny's squirt. Then she reached down to tug
at Harry a bit, smiling up at him, before adding more Runes, up the girl's stomach in a line.
"I'm done down there until you fill her, Master," she said, "Make it a big load so I can eat the
rest when we're done, won't you?"

"Are you tired, still?"

"Some," the Succubus admitted, "but mostly I just want the taste in my mouth. I'll eat it
directly... been wanting to for a while. Since Neville, really."

"Mm... will do, Pet."

He knew he shouldn't bump Lavender much while Lyra was drawing her Runes, lest she
make a mistake, so Harry withdrew slowly from between Lavender's thighs, and held her feet
up in front of him by the ankles while he looked down at his extended dick, imagining what
else he could do to bring her pleasure such as she'd never had before.

After all, while he knew she'd been a virgin in the broom closet, and hadn't been with anyone
since, Harry wanted her to climax again and again while Lyra worked, but also wanted to
prolong his own enjoyment, so he would take things slow.

First, he grew back to his new 'normal', at fully twelve inches long and two and a half across,
nearly two deep. Then he added more veins, thick and pulsing, before remembering to
increase his heart size and lungs, then his ribs and chest to match. That's a good start.

Next, ridges and soft spines, like Lyra's, appeared at regular intervals, about twelve in all,
circling around his entire size. They lay almost flat, like a porcupine's, angling down against
his length so that they wouldn't be noticed much going in, but as he pulled out, Harry
suspected they would extend and tease her tender flesh most powerfully.

"Are you ready for my magic penis, Lavender?" Harry asked, smiling down at her with more
affection than he would have thought possible a year ago.

He didn't expect her to answer, for he'd told the girl not to talk, nor move, even if that had
been a direct question. She did neither, obeying his commands without question as Lyra
painted across her breasts in large runes that matched her size, then kept her ankles in place
with one hand and aligned himself at her lower lips with the other.

She sighed as he first started entering, letting out a little whimper, then gasped as his full
head entered.

By the time the first few spines hit, Lavender was wincing with discomfort, but also gasping.
He could see her arms, still locked in place by his command, trembling to move, but she did
not.

"Answer this question, Slave. Would you prefer I go in slowly, or quickly?"

"S-Slowly, Master, so I can adju-aaaaaagh-oh fuck!"

He had pushed in completely, bottoming out all twelve inches into her wet, steaming hole in
an instant, blasting past where her hymen had been a few days ago and well past her cervix,
ripping into the poor girl's womb and pushing at its back.
"Sorry, Slave," he said with a faint smile past her legs, adjusting his grip to be around her
knees and moving his other hand, no longer needing to aim himself, around her shapely thigh
to rub slow circles just above her clit in the half-dried rune. "Master's wants outweigh your
own, don't they? Answer that."

"Yes, Master," Lavender whimpered, tears leaking copiously from her eyes to run down
either side of her head.

He pulled out halfway, slowly, then eased back in, loving how she shuddered on the back-
stroke, and even more how his mind had subconsciously added nerves to the little spines. As
each was pulled upright and out, he felt spots of tightness and pleasure spiking through his
dick, sending shivers of their own up his spine and down to his toes.

"It feels good though, doesn't it, Slave? Answer."

"I love Master's fat cock in Master's wet pussy!"

The volume was high enough, but Lavender had practically shrieked the words, too, and all
other action in the room paused to look over.

"Sorry," Harry said, turning his head to see Hermione now taking Ron from behind on the
floor, but her lips were locked with Hannah's over Ginny's crotch, while Neville had been
pounding into the blonde's cunt with Ginny licking at both that and his swinging testicles.

Lyra looked up from her own drawing to peer into Harry's eyes and apparently his mind for a
moment, because she grinned widely and hungrily at him, "I want that cock next, Master. It
looks like one of my people's."

"I modeled it after yours, Pet," he replied, then started pulling in and out of his new harem
member with long, regular movements.

"Next time you are Iris, Master, can we... well, I'd like to mount your face with mine while
you fuck me in the mouth with that one. Then switch it up a bit. If that's okay."

He snorted, replying verbally, "You know, a few weeks ago I'd have said no way, but...
having tried that? Okay. Also, you hardly ask for anything that doesn't benefit me. So... yeah,
you've earned a treat."

"Thank you, Master," Lyra murmured, sounding strangely shy. She blushed as she looked
down, then scooted her rear back so her breasts swung over Lavender's face as she worked
her calligraphic magic into Lavender's ribs. "Almost done with this set. You can climax if you
want, Master."

And he did, really badly. The sensation of the alien penis was similar to but far more intense
than he was used to, and Lavender was incredibly tight for that size, even if she was deep
enough, somehow, to hold all of him using her womb's entire depth.

"Mm... I think I'll wait until Slave begs me for it."

Then he pushed her legs apart, nearly forcing Lavender into a full splits position, and started
humping roughly, dragging his spined member through her channel recklessly, nearly losing
control as each and every pump tugged both the lips of her pussy and her cervix outward with
his removal, and then shoving back in. Lavender's back arched in a silent scream, and her
body seemed to freeze in place like that with her heavy, round breasts hanging toward her
chin, the smooth belly pulled very tight, distending her shallow navel.

Harry pumped harder, distracting himself from his own incredible pleasure by turning to look
to his right. Now Neville was standing behind Hermione, pounding into one of her holes
roughly, as he seemed to enjoy too, while the girl was bent over the end of the couch, her
mouth on Ginny's upside-down. His Pet's left leg was over the back of the couch and her
right on the floor, hands both fisted into Hannah's hair as the girl laved her cunt. Ron had a
grip on both the blonde's plaits as he mounted her on the other side, mirroring Hermione's
position.

It was glorious to see, and didn't help Harry hold back his climax, but it didn't matter.
Lavender had already lost control, her entire body wracked with pleasure she'd never
imagined, and her will to please her master was no longer equal to her desire for him. "Harry,
please fill me with cum! I need it so bad!"

Harry had never heard such an amazing idea in his life at that moment, and released with
enough force to literally push Lavender an inch or two off his cock as he sheathed himself
fully then let go of the building pressure.

It had been a while since he'd whited out.

When he came to, he was rutting into Lavender again while Lyra, her own human-style cock
that mirrored his only smaller to fit her frame, was pumping into Lavender's mouth, and both
Ginny and Hermione were suckling her fat tits, Neville and Ron behind each one in turn.

"Back with us, Master?" Lyra asked with a giggle.

"Mm? Yeah, I... how long was...?"

"You've been slamming Slave's pussy for about ten minutes, Master," she answered, "I'm
finished with her Runes, and Slave will be very randy for a few hours."

"Good," Harry grunted, "because I'm going to make use of her."

He did, and so did everyone else.

It was a long night for the blonde Gryffindor, but one she would remember for a long time to
come as the best first night of her new life.

Even Harry forcing himself on her, enslaving her with his powerful magic along with all the
ecstasy that brought, was just a prelude to that night.

Lavender Brown could not wait for more.

 Hallowed Eve

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 80 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 52: Hallowed Eve

Elsewhere in the castle that evening, Draco Malfoy smiled as his target, blissfully unaware of
his presence, left the main corridors and turned into the same side hall they usually took to
avoid the crowds. It was a bit longer back to the common room, he knew, so the pretty
seventh year witch must have wanted the solitude of being away from the rush of people
making their way out of the library as Madame Pince closed it for the night.

"I donno bout this," Goyle muttered from a few feet behind him, "seems... well, after last
time I donno."

"That other girl was a mistake," Draco hissed sharply over his shoulder, sending a stern look
at his once loyal lackey, who now did as he was told only because the Dark Lord had told
him to follow Malfoy's instructions, to assist wherever he was able in the great mission the
blonde had been given. "We were sloppy, so we got caught. But no one would think another
girl going missing is us, no one would look anywhere near the same place after what
happened to her. This one... we'll do her right. Er... you know what I mean."

"What do you mean?" the rather thick young man asked quietly, but Malfoy had already
turned away, raising his wand as he watched the girl, her nose in a book, slowly clack down
the marble hallways with her school shoes.

The moment she sensed their presence, he watched her angular face change from quiet
tranquility to momentary fear, which spiked further still as she looked down from his face to
his tie, and then further to his wand, which was already aimed at her.

The last thing she could remember for several minutes was a firm voice saying, "Imperio."

Draco smiled as he watched her tension flee, replaced by a sense of calm and good cheer.
"Excellent, it worked. Right, then, bitch- follow me. Goyle, go tell Crabbe it worked, meet
me up by the room after taking your potions."
"R- Right. Um... see you later, then."

The blonde's smile widened as his former 'friend' hastened to do his bidding, just like he
should have been the whole time, then stowed his wand away as the girl approached, giving
her an appraising eye before turning without a word and moving for the nearest set of stairs
going up. The seventh floor, after all, was quite a bit higher than the Library.

After he had paced back and forth three times, as required, Draco stepped into the Room of
Hidden Things for the first time in several days, glad that the Elf he'd ordered to clean up the
mess of the other girl had done so. It was a family elf, too, so he could trust it to keep it a
secret, unless his father connected the missing girls to Draco and started asking questions.
But, given his last visit and letters from home, he doubted very much that Lucius Malfoy was
in any position to protest.

The thought might once have made Draco quail in fear, but now... now it encouraged him.
The Dark Lord had, after all, trusted him with this most dangerous, most sensitive mission. It
was all up to him. And sure, the stress had been getting to him. The complexity of the task
was far more than he had suspected at first.

That was why he had a need for... well, a way to relieve tension.

He didn't wait long before moving further into the room, well past where the now dead fuck-
toy had been, ignoring the table and moving further into the stacks upon mountains of
detritus, until he finally came to a recently cleaned and rearranged section, well-hidden from
all approaches until one was directly on it, which required actually reaching the far wall of
the gigantic chamber and doubling back a few feet to the right of the path to it.

Through the entire journey, the girl had followed without question or comment, leaving
Draco plenty of time to finish looking over the small, room-like space that held a discarded
but functional bed, now cleaned with linens as well, a night-stand, and the same cursed black
cabinet he'd been trying to fix for weeks, along with a floor-length mirror. He had to be able
to see to get his hair just so, after all.

Eventually, he turned to the girl, slipping out of his robes and letting them fall, then moving
up to remove his tie, "What's your name?"

"Isabelle Ross," the girl said without question, looking around blissfully as well.

"Mm. Take your clothes off and suck my dick."

There was a brief moment of hesitation that made Draco finger his wand before he pushed
down his pants, but the girl's willpower was not up to the task of defeating his new favorite
spell, and she began moving to obey.

Once she was nude, he took a moment to admire her figure. She was tall, a bit taller than him
really, with a slender, athletic build that belied the sedentary life most wizarding folk led. Her
chest was modest, small for her tall frame, but well-shaped and capped with dark, small
areolae, while her stomach was flat, finished with long, smooth legs and a small patch of
trimmed hair between her legs that, like the pixie-cut hair on her head, shone black in the
sourceless light of the Room of Hidden Things.

She hesitated again after she had knelt before him, but Draco said just one word, "Suck."

She swallowed, then opened her mouth wide, taking him in.

Draco threw his head back, sighing in relief. It'd been too long... he'd always been the randy
sort, but had rarely been able to perform until recently. He couldn't have told you why even a
year ago, but now... now things were different.

His own godfather had been poisoning him. In the guise of making his godson tea during
their semi-regular weekly visits, he found evidence that Severus Snape was doing the foul
deed within an hour of the man's sacking. He hadn't even been given orders, not that Draco
could find, but apparently a small potion added to his tea with every visit was enough to
make him- him, the powerful son of a very influential, wealthy pure-blood family!- nearly
impotent.

And Umbridge...

Memories of what she had done to him in the interest of 'building trust' nearly made him
impotent, too.

But those were now safely locked away behind hard-fought Occlumency training under the
tutelage of his crazy aunt, and the fat, ugly bitch was well and truly out of his life, just like
Snape. And now, now he found himself with the ability to match what he'd always wanted.
He groaned as Isabelle's mouth worked on him, her inexpert but not entirely inexperienced
tongue sliding over his cap before she moved down further.

Now, thanks to his aunt's additional training, he could have nearly any witch he wanted with
just a few hours' planning.

And he did have his plans.

For now, Slytherin House was off-limits. The daughters of the Sacred Twenty-Eight always
would be, at least if his Lord and Master had anything to say about it. The only way he could
access their bodies were if they were willing, no magic allowed. The other pure-bloods were
less important, but in the interests of securing his own place in the new hierarchy after the
Dark Lord took power thanks, in no small part, to Draco's own efforts, he would wait. Once
he did have his new position in the Master's inner circle, replacing what was left of his
parents, he could truly have anyone he wanted.

And he did, he hated to admit it to himself, need help with the Cabinet. It was beginning to
frustrate him, but he could admit he wasn't perfect, didn't know everything. A part of him
even knew, deep down, that this whole thing was a suicide mission. Assassinate
Dumbledore... he was a child.

But Draco also knew he could do it, and every time he was able to cast the Imperius Curse, it
worked a little better, lasted longer, took less effort. Soon, he would have it truly mastered,
and the world would be his. After all, he didn't have to do the deed himself. He just needed a
patsy to get lucky, and Hogwarts was full of them, just like the girl doing her best to get him
off.

He grunted, feeling his pleasure rise. She was no master of course, but Isabelle had clearly
done this before, and knew what she was about. "That's it, slut... swallow it all when it
happens, then get up on the bed."

Years of not being able to wank no matter how much he wanted to didn't exactly give Draco
Malfoy the ability to climax and stay hard, but he did recover pretty fast, and he had picked a
Ravenclaw again, despite not wanting to establish a pattern, because he needed a girl with a
brain in her head, even if he preferred a bimbo.

Another grunt, and Isabelle, eyes shimmering with something between tears and pain, took
his whole length in, swallowing repeatedly as he climaxed.

The moment he was done, she obeyed, climbing onto the bed and taking a simple, flat, rail-
thin posture along its length.

He snorted, then started to explain, while he recovered, why he needed her. "This is a
Vanishing Cabinet. Your family used to make them, didn't they?"

"Yes," Isabelle nodded.

"Do you know how they work?"

She nodded again.

"Good. This one's broken. You are going to help me fix it, and I'm going to keep you fed,
watered, and healthy. When it's done, working right, I'll set you free."

"Okay."

"And any time I want, you're going to suck my todger, or shag me, and you'll never
complain."

"Okay."

"Good. Now..."

Even the report of a fourth missing girl, the second Ravenclaw, seemed to go relatively
unnoticed by the Hogwarts rumor mill, though the teachers seemed more worried than ever.
Life seemed to go on, for a couple more weeks, until Halloween approached again.

Lavender Brown had, by and large, returned to her normal self after that first insane
weekend. She still spent most of her time in the company of Parvati Patil and a few of the
other more gossipy girls at Hogwarts, but a few times a week either stopped by Harry's
loaned quarters for an hour or two, with Ginny, Harry, Ron, Neville, Lyra, and even on some
occasions Hermione making use of her willingness, or overnight if she thought she could get
away with it without arousing suspicion from her best friend.

Pansy, in turn, was there less frequently because even if Daphne and Tracey were 'in the
know' about Lyra, she didn't want it known that she had let people- Gryffindors, even- aside
from Harry have her body, or about her particular desires as far as sex. In the last two weeks,
in fact, she had only been to the quarters overnight once, and made quick, hour-long visits
only twice.

Ginny and Ron, oddly, seemed to be avoiding each other as far as Harry could tell. Nothing
too overt, they could be in the same room as the other, even nude, without the same shame or
embarrassment they might have shown the previous year. But as they had the first dozen or
so times either had engaged in sexual practices in the company of the other, both were
avoiding looking at the other too much, and stayed on opposite sides of the group, all without
discussion or planning as far as Harry could tell.

Hermione...

Well, Hermione was special to him in her own way, unique to all the others. His third friend
ever, his first female friend, the first girl, the first person he could remember ever hugging
him. She had been the most loyal, too. As much as he loved Ron, they all knew the ginger
could be fickle. His loyalty had wavered in their fourth year most of all. Harry felt they had
gotten past that for the most part, but none of them could forget how much he'd hurt both
Harry and Hermione that year.

But Hermione had always stood by him. Even in the third year, when the girl had Professor
McGonagall confiscate his precious Firebolt, he knew that it was for his own protection. She
was looking out for him when he refused to do so himself.

He had been so distracted that week by the shocking workload of homework and sex that
Harry hadn't even remembered the next day was the anniversary of his parents' death until
Hermione had told the others, who were just starting to get undressed for another night of
play, "We'll see you all later. Have a fun night." Then she had taken up Harry's hand and
pulled him from the common area couch toward his bedroom, led him inside, and then locked
the door behind them.

"Er, not that I mind really," Harry murmured as she turned to face him again, "But what's that
all about? Why aren't we staying with the others?"

Hermione's chocolate eyes searched his own for a few seconds, and both her hands seemed to
unerringly find his own. Her voice was soft and cool, a little anxious perhaps. "Harry... if you
think I'm going to let you leave my sight for anything except the loo before- before
November first, you are very much mistaken. I don't want you dwelling on the past at all."

Harry chuckled, feeling more amused than anything, "Hermione, I- to be honest, I haven't
even thought about it much this year. My whole life has been so different since I summoned
Lilith that I haven't had much time to dwell on all that sort of thing."
"All the same," she replied, "I know you miss your family, and... well, I want to help.
Besides, maybe if we stay locked up in here, nothing terrible will happen."

"Maybe," Harry murmured, "but somehow I doubt it. Maybe it won't happen to us. But, well,
what did you have in mind for us to do for the rest of the night?"

She stepped into him, making sure to press her body against his, "I was thinking maybe we
could go to bed..."

"You're tired?" he asked, genuinely surprised. Hermione had been gifted with her Runes long
enough ago that she, too, was needing less and less sleep.

It was her turn to laugh, and she slapped his chest gently, "I didn't say sleep, Harry, I said bed.
As in... well, I thought we could use our mouths for starters."

Harry grinned. "I like this plan so far. Race you?"

Harry was just trying to turn when she brought him to a screeching halt with her hand on the
front of his trousers. "Mm... no race, I think. It's not a competition, Harry. We're on the same
team. Instead, how about we..."

Then she was past him, laughing joyously as she jumped onto the bed while he still stood
there, stunned. "Looks like I win, though."

"Cheeky minx," he muttered darkly, then removed his clothes quickly as he stepped more
sedately toward the bed after her. "If you aren't entirely undressed by the time I get there, I'm
going to have to punish you."

Hermione, though, only slowly removed the already unbuttoned blouse, so that her skirt and
knickers were still on, along with her loosened tie, by the time he was naked and standing at
the edge of the bed. She looked up at him challengingly, but Harry only grinned, more than
happy to play her game. "Five points from Gryffindor for cheek," he declared quietly, "and
another five for your inability to follow simple instructions. Now... Why don't you lay on the
bed with your head hanging off, on your back?"

"Is this part of my punishment?" Hermione asked, but sat back up to twist around before
doing as he'd asked.

"The start," he told her, "we'll use our mouths as you suggested, but I get to be in charge."

"Yes, Daddy," Hermione whispered, then blushed deeply.

Harry grinned, and almost without effort, he gained two inches and perhaps a stone in weight
as his features aged to the man she'd mentioned. "I forgot," he whispered, "that the Weasleys
aren't the only ones with incestuous tendencies, Hermione. You had sex with your dad... do
you want to suck his cock?"

She shuddered, then nodded, her blush deepening a bit more.

"Okay. This one time, then, no expectations, and no explanation needed. You can even do it
how you'd like to before your punishment."

Hermione sat up instead and looked up at him with gentle tears in her eyes. "R- Really? I
mean... I've thought about it, but... you don't think it's weird?"

"It probably is," Harry admitted, "but like I've been telling Ginny and Ron, I'm just as kinky
and perverted. Maybe more. Who am I to judge? Besides, I shagged your Mum, too, and I
keep encouraging Ginny and Ron to go down on each other. Why would I say no to
something you want?"

"You're a better man than anyone I know," she whispered, "but yes, I... I do want to. I want to
swallow my Daddy's semen. I can't do it like Mommy can, but I want to try. For you, Daddy.
I want to make you happy."

Harry frowned, thinking it appropriate to what little he knew of Mr. Granger's personality,
then nodded, "I suppose that's alright, this one time, Hermione. But your mother will be back
from her vacation tomorrow, so if you aren't sure, you don't need to. I'll be alright until then."

"But I do want to," she insisted with a whisper, "I want to taste Daddy like Mommy does.
And- And I want him in me again, like in the hotel."

Harry grinned, then schooled his face into a more stern expression as he returned to the role-
play, "The- The hotel? What do you mean, Hermione?"

She pouted, "How come you aren't calling me your baby girl, Daddy? But I mean in the
hotel, when you were drunk and thought I was Mum. We shagged, and I loved it. It was
almost as good as with my boyfriends, but so naughty. I'm naughty, Daddy. I should probably
be spanked."

Harry's resolve not to take her right then and there wavered, but he retained his self-control
even as the noise in the other room quieted as the rest moved into the dungeon. "I- I don't
know where you learned such common language as shagged, Hermione, but my Baby Girl
will not use such foul words, not while you live in my house. You should have your mouth
cleaned out. Come here, Daddy will do it for you."

The bookworm feigned worry as she leaned forward and sank from the edge of the bed to her
knees.

"Open wide. I'll clean it with this new bottle-brush."

"Yes, Dad-mph!"

Perhaps it was mean, but Harry knew that Hermione could take it, so he shoved all six inches
of Mr. Granger's copied penis into his daughter's mouth in one go. It was strange, being
someone who was so much smaller than himself, for as his current thick thatch of dark curls
tickled Hermione's lips and nose, he just felt her uvula against his tip, when normally he
would be buried into her throat several inches. It was strange and unusual, but no less
thrilling. In fact, Harry suspected the same number of nerve endings were compressed into a
smaller space, making him more sensitive. Combined with the increased pleasure he gained
from the Runes, it was easily one of the best blow-jobs he'd ever had so far, not least because
Hermione's tongue and mouth were already working and moving on him. "Baby Girl, that's
so good... yes, lick it more."

She popped off him a few seconds later to do just that, running her tongue along every side
one after the other while her hands worked his scrotum and held him at the base. Then she
looked up at him with adoration and feigned confusion, "Daddy, there's no soap in there."

"You have to pump it a lot to get it out sometimes," he told her, "keep working at it."

"Yes, Daddy."

She went back to work with gusto, and soon Harry was groaning as he rested a hand on her
bushy head. "You've done this before, I can tell. Where did you learn to do this, Baby Girl?"

Hermione didn't answer, too intent on sucking him, but Harry gently slapped her cheek, and
she recoiled as he felt the jarring travel down his rigid flesh, too. "I- I do it a lot at school,"
she admitted, "I get lots of practice these days."

"Mm," Harry grumbled, "Who? It's not that Weasley or Potter boy, is it?"

The brunette smiled around him even as she bobbed, then pulled off, "I love sucking them the
most. But there's others. A couple times I've done it to everyone in their dorm. And this girl
with a penis, I did it to her, too."

Harry groaned as she feeling intensified. "At- at least you aren't shagging them."

She looked up at him, pretending shame, but kept bobbing again.

"You are? My little girl's turned into the school bicycle?"

She nodded, tugging his dick with her, then pulled away to replace her mouth with both
hands for a moment, "We use the term 'school broom', Daddy, but it's the same thing. And
yes, I've become quite the little slut."

"If that's the case," Harry told her, grabbing onto her head, "then I'll just use you like a slut.
And when your mother gets home, we'll tell her all about it."

She whimpered around him, and Harry smiled as he held her in place, then started pushing in
and out more rapidly. "Don't worry, Baby Girl," he grunted, "I'll give you that soap really
soon..."

"Gfmfm!"

It unloaded a moment later, but Harry kept thrusting as he climaxed, coating her tongue,
cheeks, and the back of Hermione's throat with his semen. "Good, Baby Girl," he moaned,
holding himself inside for a few more pulses before he slipped out, "That's really good. Swish
that soap around, then spit it out on your breasts. We have to clean your outside, too."
With a moan of her own, Hermione did as he asked, then let the huge load run out of her
wide-open mouth down her chin and onto her C-cups. She let the last few drops linger before
swallowing them. Her eyes fluttered up. "You taste different... you taste like Daddy."

Harry nodded, "I thought I would. I get my powers from Lilith, so it works like her. When I
look like someone, I copy them down to very fine details, including things like that. When
you do get to suck your actual Dad's dick, tell me if it's the same, won't you?"

Hermione whimpered as she staggered to her feet, climbed onto the bed, and then beckoned
him on with a finger. "I can't wait any more, Daddy... I want you in me so badly!"

Harry grinned as he reached out over her and used her father's own hands to rub the slimy
mess into her breasts and stomach, then stood up to stroke his hard member a few times with
the same goo. "If I go inside you, you could get pregnant from Daddy," he muttered, "but I'm
not letting my slag of a daughter go off to get pregnant from some other kid. Not before I
have my chance."

Hermione paled as he spread her legs, but did not resist. "Daddy... Daddy wants me to give
myself a sister?"

"Daddy does, Baby Girl. A new sister for him to fuck once she's old enough, just like his
slutty Baby Girl."

Hermione groaned loudly as he pushed into her and started stroking slowly while he got used
to the shorter movement the smaller size allowed. "Daddy's dick," she gasped, "Daddy's dick
is in me! I love it, it feels so good! I love Daddy's dick in me!"

"Baby Girl can have it every day if she wants it," Harry told her, then grabbed one leg to pull
it up against his body vertically, twisting her for a new angle, a move he'd learned not from
Lilith, but from watching Dudley's porn.

This time, both took their time as Hermione enjoyed the satisfaction of her deepest, most
secret kink (at least as far as Harry knew), while he reveled in giving in to more than one of
his own, and giving someone he loved something that brought them joy.

When it was finally done, she dripped with his copied seed, and Hermione drifted off to sleep
curled across her father's slender torso.

"Lilith," Harry called mentally, "Hypothetically, if I'm Hermione's father physically, and I
ejaculated into her, and I chose to get her pregnant... would it be his DNA?"

"Master has great friends," the Succubus replied after a moment, and she sent him a new
wave of ecstasy as the creature climaxed between Ginny, Ron, and Hannah, while the blonde
enjoyed, of all things, Lilith's tail in her true form. "But no. It might copy flavors, though I'd
never heard that was a possibility, but not the DNA. Our species doesn't actually have DNA
as you do, so the power doesn't work that deeply. It's more like a broad, powerful
Transfiguration as far as I understand the discipline. It would still be yours."

"Good to know. Thank you. I didn't, for the record, but... maybe one day."
"If I have anything to say about it, that day will not be a 'maybe', Master. Gods, they're so
good... sleep well, Master."

"Night, Lilith. Enjoy."

Then he, too, slipped into a blissful, relaxed slumber.

Harry stretched as he stepped, freshly showered, from his in-quarters loo to find the bookish
girl still sleeping beneath the sheets of his bed. During the night, the blankets had been
pushed down to the foot of the bed as both had been sweltering hot after two rounds of
passionate love-making. Naked himself, Harry let his eyes drift over the rise and fall of her
hips and shoulders as the girl breathed, tracing the lines of her body through the sheet.

It's weird how each of them is different, but I love all their bodies anyway. Even if I don't love
the rest like I do Ginny, Hermione, and Lyra... I love shagging them. But last night... last
night was special.

For a moment, his nose wrinkled at the stale smell of sex and sweat that still lingered in the
room, then grinned at the memories. Being her father had been a bit odd, but Hermione had
been very into it, so despite just an hour of actual intercourse she'd climaxed no fewer than
six times. More, if he was right about how much she'd enjoyed using her mouth on dear old
dad. She really is getting a bit slutty, but I don't think I mind as long as it mostly stays
between us. Sort of like Ginny or Lilith.

"So what's this about," Harry asked quietly, shutting the door of his bathroom behind him as
he went in search of shirt and pants. Hermione had stirred a few moments after he started
watching her, and blushed even while stretching to give him a marvelous view of her torso as
the sheet slid down.

"Harry... it's Halloween. I just thought... tonight, you might like something a little different
to... take your mind off it."

He swallowed. The night of his parents' murder, and the anniversary of so many other
difficult experiences since then. It hadn't exactly slipped his mind, but as he'd told her the
night before, it was far from the forefront of his thoughts these days.

"I know, you haven't been brooding as much as you normally do from my birthday on,"
Hermione continued shyly, oblivious to the now racing thoughts in Harry's head, "but I was
kind of hoping we could have a special night, just for us. It's been a while, anyway, and..."

Comprehension dawned, and Harry's eyes widened. It had been a while. Months, in fact,
since it had just been them without anyone else present, conscious or not.

"Am I neglecting you, Hermione?" he asked quietly, dropping his clothes on the sheets and
slipping in to the bed before wrapping an arm around the girl's waist and resting the other on
her stomach.
"No," she sighed, melting into his embrace, "that's not what I meant. Whatever those Runes
Lyra put on us really do, I want you to know that I'm happy with it. I want to understand it,
and a part of me thinks I shouldn't be happy with how I ended up, but I love having you and
Ron in me at once, or... or sucking off everyone in your dorm, or having Ginny's tongue on
my clit, or whatever. But last night, I wanted it to be about you. Different. Love... not just
sex. Because I love you, Harry Potter."

Something in Harry's heart lifted, as if a veil of shadow had been pulled from his eyes, at
least partially, allowing light to flow into his being.

The light, as it often did, granted clarity.

Something he had already known- he did not love Pansy, or Lavender, or even Hannah, but
he could.

He did love Hermione, and Ginny, and yes, Lyra too, or Lilith, or whoever she seemed to
really be.

"Then I have been neglecting you," he whispered into her bushy hair, "because I've been
shagging you, making you feel good, but I haven't told you nearly enough how much you
mean to me, Hermione. I love you, too. For everything you are. Yes, your body, and your
mind, and your spirit. Everything."

"Thank you, Harry," she sniffled, "now... will you please make love to me? As- as yourself
this time. I missed you."

He chuckled, letting one hand drift down to cup her firm arse and leaving the other around
her waist, "And there's the sexy bookworm I love, too. I absolutely will, Hermione."

She pulled away from him slowly, sending a teasing glance over her shoulder, and slipped her
her hand down to cover his own at her waist, then gave a little wiggle of her bum as she
pushed the sheets to her ankles, before climbing up to straddle him. "Ready?"

"For you, always," he laughed quietly, then sighed as she sank onto him, wincing slightly at
his renewed size.

While she rode him slowly, he leaned into her to give the girl a long, lingering kiss before
trailing his mouth slowly down her body, peppering little touches and strokes of finger,
tongue, and lip around her breasts, down her slightly folded stomach, until he reached the
spot that made her sigh as he touched it.

Soon, Harry's fingers slipped into her folds beside his member, flanking him while his thumb
was free to flick the nub back and forth to bring Hermione to a quick climax before he
slowed things down to match her own pace. Once she'd wetted them sufficiently, Harry
pulled his juicy fingers free to lick them clean before his hands started roaming the girl's
luscious thighs as he kissed her mouth again.

For what seemed like hours, Harry worshiped Hermione's body, kissing and touching every
inch of it he could reach, and she returned the favor in kind, before, eyes swimming wet with
love and affection, she watched his face as he filled her once more.

Neither left the room for the entire day, and only took breaks to eat sandwiches that Dobby
and then Winky had brought for them, though multiple showers were had to keep the odor
down.

Thanks to the Runes, neither had a problem keeping up, though Hermione was exhausted
when she was finally allowed to sleep at just after midnight.

Hermione's breath hitched as he trailed a finger over her breast through the sheets, and he
hatched a devilish plan. Slowly, he pushed her onto her back, then climbed up to straddle her
head facing down her body. He angled down to her lips, pushing his head against the puffy
softness, then said quietly, "I know you're awake, lover... and if you aren't, I hope this is a
pleasant way to wake up."

As Harry's cock pushed into her mouth, he felt the girl's teeth grate against his length, but
soon, the well-practiced girl, sleeping or awake, had opened her mouth to take him in.

In this position, he could only get about a third of his currently ten inches into her mouth, but
Harry could feel her throat contracting around his head reflexively. Still, Hermione didn't
otherwise move, so he lifted the sheets from her body and tossed them toward her ankles
before withdrawing and pushing back in a few times while he played with her chest.

Then he leaned down over her, resting his wrists over her thighs, and delved into her groin,
sticky with his cum and hers from the night before, and began to lick again while he slowly
humped her face, withdrawing almost fully every four or five strokes to let her breathe before
pushing back in, always just a little deeper than before.

Hermione didn't move or show any sign that she was actually awake until he was about to
explode, when her hips suddenly jerked upward, shoving her clitoris into Harry's mouth as
she flooded the sheet with a powerful squirt of liquid. That was too much for Harry, as the
scent of her musk hit his nostrils stronger than ever before, and he hammered down into the
girl's throat with one powerful push, burying himself balls-deep in her mouth, then let the
dam burst.

The moment she felt his cock swell, Hermione's hands flew up around Harry's thighs and
bum, holding him in tighter, and she swallowed around him again and again, glad that her
gag reflex had faded quickly with the repeated blow-jobs she had started giving only Ron and
Harry and first. She reveled, even in her own post-orgasmic bliss, in the feel of his hot seed
streaming down her throat, until the flexing ended and he slowly pulled out, leaving
Hermione feeling strangely hollow and empty, yet full at the same time.

Harry slowly turned, rolling off her, and sitting up with one leg bent beneath the other. "Hell
of a way to wake up, eh, Hermione?"

She panted, brown eyes swimming with happiness, and nodded, then smacked her lips. "Hell
of a way, Harry. Gods, I love you. I hope you had a happy Halloween, for once."
"Well, if he didn't," Lyra said, pushing open the bedroom door stark naked herself, "we'll just
have to remind the scary things out there that we are the scary ones. Come on, get showered
and dressed. We're going to breakfast together, and then we're staying together all day. I'm not
letting Harry out of my sight after you kept him locked up all day."

Harry smiled, eyes raking her, too. "I need another shower... you, Lyra? Hermione?"

The Succubus raised one brown eyebrow, "Of course, Master. I need my feeding, too.
Hermione can't live off your spunk like I can, though, so we should hurry. One orgasm each
in the shower, that's it."

"Poo," Hermione muttered, but did quickly rise from the bed, leaning down to give Harry and
then, to his joy, Lyra a kiss before trotting into the bathroom, joined soon after by the others.

"Thank you for your reports thus far," a very tired-looking Headmaster Dumbledore told the
gathered teachers at the monthly Staff Meeting. The Heads of Houses had been the last to
make their reports as they had the closest and most frequent contact with students outside of
the classrooms themselves. The news from each of them filled him with consternation. He
had his suspicions of the cause, and had even been told most of his current school-related
troubles were caused by the presence of the Succubus. Yet, what could he do?

If I attempt to remove her, I will most likely fail. I will certainly alienate Harry, or kill him by
doing so. In that respect, my hands are tied. I'm not sure I could remove her, since doing so
would kill Harry according to what they told me of the Contract. Only Voldemort may be able
to do that. Harry cannot even void the Contract or fail to fulfill it if my interpretation of the
prophecy is correct, because that would be him dying at the hands of himself, and both he
and Voldemort must be the one to kill the other.

Damn all prophecies and the prophets who make them! If I thought Harry sacrificing himself
or being killed would work, I would be tempted to make that choice, no matter how much I
care for the boy's wellbeing, just as I do not think he would hesitate to make that choice
himself. In fact, I am counting on that. But I know full well that his destiny is not only one of
sacrifice, but of conflict with Voldemort.

I cannot be central to that, I cannot be the one who forces the issue. There is the option to
remove both him and the Succubus from the school, and if I am pressed by the Board of
Governors I will make that decision, but I would not isolate him from his friends casually. He
needs them, as they need him. Now, more than ever, if what they have told me of their bonds
is true.

Nor can I simply close the school, not unless it comes under direct attack. We will simply
have to deal with things as they are the best we can for now, and hope for a quick end to the
Contract by Voldemort's death. To that end, perhaps... perhaps I can be more proactive, and
enlist Harry's help along with his friends. Hm... that planning must wait, I suppose, at least
for now.

"Have any of you come up with a plan to deal with the issues of pregnancies rising?"
"Aside from cracking down harshly on the students fraternizing more, well, intimately than
allowed by school rule, I cannot think of any," his Deputy offered after the staff shared
several equally concerned looks. "Frankly, I cannot think of that as a viable option, however.
There are... simply too many. We would have to put nearly every student of third year and
above into detention daily. We simply do not have the staff to facilitate that. Even just
walking from my office to this meeting, I had to reprimand no fewer than thirty students!"

Professor Flitwick nodded, "I've entered the Ravenclaw Common Room to find three
different pairs of students actively engaged in coitus now, two of them at once, and the first
pair was with a few third-years in the room with them. There is always a bit of that going on,
but they've never been so... blatant about it, and the sheer numbers are beyond the pale."

"I understand that," Dumbledore said with a sigh, "my question is, what are we to do about
it? Minerva is right, we cannot simply put them in detention. That does not solve the problem
at any rate."

"We could try educating the children about the dangers of unprotected sex," Professor Sprout
offered, "I know it is against the Board's wishes, but if the students are going to be engaging
in this licentious behavior no matter what we do, then it is best we keep the pregnancies
themselves down, is it not?"

"I don't disagree," Flitwick nodded in her direction, "but I would prefer the levels simply
return to what they used to be. Perhaps if we knew the source of the changes? I began to
notice things last year... does anyone have any ideas?"

"I'm afraid I do," Dumbledore sighed, dreading the conversation he was about to have. But
maybe the group could come up with a solution he, alone, could not? "The cause is Miss Lyra
Sendai."

Minerva, on his right, hissed quietly. The other teachers shared a confused look, however.
Then Professor Babbling asked, "Isn't that the, er, exchange student from another reality? The
one..."

"The same," he replied quietly, "It is the creature's nature as a Succubus, she explained to me
earlier this year, to increase the general feeling of arousal and need for satisfaction in any
area in which she resides, apparently. I was not made aware of that effect in the research I
made when I learned of the creature's connection to Mr. Potter."

"Harry?"

Dumbledore nodded at the rotund Herbology Professor's question, ignoring her look of
shock. He had told them of her presence and nature, all he knew at the time, but had
neglected to mention that it was Harry who had summoned her to protect his privacy, though
of course Minerva had known since it was she that arranged the quarters the young man was
spending most nights in. "Yes, it appears young Harry went to rather some extremes to satisfy
his need to... what do the Muggles say these days... sow wild oats?"

There was a round of tittering from the younger Professors, though he personally could not
figure out why. "At any rate, yes, I believe that is the cause. It is significantly stronger than I
would have expected or hoped for, but I can find or think of no other explanation. We cannot
simply remove Miss Sendai or Mr. Potter without disastrous consequences for his safety. I
am not at liberty to explain more of why, but I must ask that you trust me on this matter. We
must find another solution, if one exists."

"We do trust you, Albus," Slughorn murmured, his face reddening slightly at the realizations
he was no doubt making, and the benefits should he be able to turn Harry's pet to his own
wishes. "It's just that... well, a Succubus being summoned by Potter? If it got out... you and I
know it's more a matter of power and will than being Dark, but what will people think? And
the student's families... we've been able to keep the newer level of activity under wraps for
now, but that cannot last forever."

"I am well aware, Horace, thank you. Do you have any thoughts on the solution?"

He was growing frustrated with the conversation already. Like the last meeting, this one had
so far largely gone around in circles. There had to be a way. He, too, wished they could
educate the students, or provide easier access to contraceptives. There was simply no way the
Board of Governors would allow it, however, and not without reason. No... there must be
another way.

It was Sinistra Vector who spoke up next, "Perhaps... we could educate them on a volunteer
basis? Offer something they could attend anonymously, without the knowledge of their
parents? Keep things basic, and at an appropriate age-group, but get the important
information across? Like how to make contraceptive potions themselves, and where to get the
ingredients?"

Dumbledore frowned. "You mean to suggest we go behind the parent's backs?"

"No, not exactly," the handsome younger teacher demurred, "simply that we neglect to tell
them. An oversight, perhaps. Or simply work under the assumption that students were
coming to staff with questions, and we felt it best that we, as teachers, answered them lest
they get their information from a... shall we say, a less trustworthy source?"

"That..." Minerva tapped her chin thoughtfully, "That is a plan worthy of Severus Snape,
Sinistra. I like it."

Dumbledore's brow wrinkled further. He didn't like the deception, but if he were honest with
himself (and he tried to be), it wasn't terrible. And it was the best plan they'd heard so far.
The only real plan. "Very well. Charity, would you be willing to take a stipend into the
Muggle world and procure a supply of their contraceptives, simply for a more complete
answer?"

"Of course, Professor," the woman replied, "I should prefer if I could do so this weekend, as I
was planning on making a visit anyway."

"That will be excellent, thank you. I will send an Elf with the purse this evening, once I
allocate the funds. Professor Slughorn, I assume you can order your own supplies for brewing
demonstrations- successful brews will be put to use, I am sure- with a little extra funding?"
"Oh, yes, absolutely," the round-figured man nodded with a jovial smile, "I daresay I'll have
them whipping the lot up within a fortnight."

"By then, half the population of witches in the school might be pregnant," Minerva grumbled,
"but I suppose that's the best we can do."

"Very well. I will hope for additional ideas as time passes. Feel free to bring them to me at
any time, we need not wait for a full staff meeting if inspiration strikes. Please do all you can
in the meantime to tamp down on that sort of behavior. Thank you. Is there anything else to
bring before the staff? No? Then I bid you all a good evening."
 Seven Secrets

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 80 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

A last little tidbit: Many of you have noticed my chapter titles actually mean something.
Many mean more than one thing. This one? It has seven meanings (not counting the title
itself). They are buried within the chapter. 50,000 points- half an "Internet"- if you can tell
me all seven. ;)
(An "Interenet", as in 'you win the internet'. It doesn't mean anything.)

Chap. 53: Seven Secrets

Hermione whimpered as she stepped past the study tables and into the stacks of the massive,
quiet Hogwarts Library. Damn you, Harry. Doing the ritual in that fake library has ruined
libraries for me. I can't smell so many books and not get excited. I won't be able to study like
this, and I've only got an hour until I need to get to Transfiguration. There's no time to go
back to the quarters.

She grimaced again as her too-fast mind imagined a full scenario taking place there. Lyra
frequently skived off classes, since the teachers mostly knew who and what she was, so she
would be present. Ron and Harry both had a free period along with her between Charms and
Transfiguration, but they had headed straight for the suite while she'd gone to the Library
after asking Professor Flitwick several questions about the Shield Charm's dueling variants.

Which leaves me in the library, randy as all get-out, and no one around but books. Books
which smell sinfully erotic right now.

But wait... there's no one else around. Even Madam Pince isn't here. Her eyes drifted to a
rather thick, musty old tome titled, appropriately enough, Personal Satisfaction through
Spellwork. With a furtive look around, she pulled the heavy, leather-covered volume from the
shelves and tucked it under the arm opposite her backpack, before hurrying deeper into the
library for her favorite nook, the one where Harry had seduced her once before.
Once she reached it she set her extra things down and clutched the book to her chest tightly,
feeling it as it pressed her already-erect nipples into her flesh through the clothing, and leaned
down to take a long sniff. Oh, God... Am I really going to do this?

... Who am I kidding? Of course I am.

With another glance around, the witch pulled her wand free of her sleeve and cast several
protective charms, including Muffliato, and a mild Antipathy charm that should work to keep
everyone who wasn't her away from the area for a little while. Then she pushed her knickers
to the floor, stepped out with just one foot, and put the book spine-up vertically on her
favorite chair. Hermione held it there with one hand, already breathing rapidly, and stepped
with her knees up onto the chair too, straddling the book.

Her knees only had to drop an inch or so to reach the spine, and the rigid hardness of it
settling between her legs made Hermione swoon. "Oh, God," she cried, throwing her head
back. Why is this so good? It's a fucking book, not- not a cock!

But the thought didn't stop her from sliding her pussy over it a few times, the movement
made easier and faster after just a few passes due to the moisture she was putting out. It was a
little awkward at first, but Hermione soon discovered that she could hold the tome in place
with her luscious thighs and use only her pelvis to stimulate herself with it, leaving her hands
free to clutch the back of the chair or rub her clit, then roughly grope her breasts.

"Wha- what am I doing," she gasped after a few minutes, never slowing her increasingly
rapid humping, "I'm defiling a book! Not just any book, but a school book! I'm rubbing it on
my pussy, fucking it like a sex toy!"

That realization made things even more erotic for her, and she grunted in a rapid climax as
she drenched the leather-bound cover. But she was not satisfied. Fucking Runes are making
me want to fuck so much! As soon as her peak passed, Hermione started again, but this time
tapped the book with her wand, setting it to vibrate with the same wordless incantation she
had used on her favorite dildo.

"Oh- Oh yes, c- cumming... cumming again! Oh, yes, get me off! I'm gonna- gonna-"

Her next words were unintelligible through the shriek of ecstasy she let out. If she had not
used such a potent sound-muffling charm, a few minutes later she was sure she would've
been caught. But even as she recovered from the shattering climax, Hermione returned her
mind back to study. She did have work to do, after all, and a half-hour break was all she
could spare.

Damn it, I'm still so randy... At least that orgasm was good. Who knew books could be good
that way, too?

"Potter, Granger, Weasley, Sendai," Professor Slughorn announced at the end of an

interesting potion lesson where they had been lectured on a potion Harry and his friends
knew well, "As well as Greengrass, Parkinson, Turpin, Patil, Corner, and Bones, I'd like you
to stay here for a few minutes. The rest of you are dismissed. Try not to forget everything
we've covered on Polyjuice Potion before Monday, as it's devilishly tricky!"

Harry resisted the urge to look toward the two Slytherin girls while inquisitive eyes were still
in the Potions classroom, but he was the only one. As more than half of the class filed out,
Hermione was the first up to Slughorn's desk, where the rotund teacher patiently sat. "What is
it, Professor? Was there something wrong with our work today?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Slughorn waved off the girl's concerns as he waited until the last
student whose name he hadn't called out left the room, then raised his wand and flicked it at
the door, which shut and locked with a bang.

At once, Harry was on high alert, but Slughorn put his wand down on the desk with a jovial
smile and beamed around at all of them. Once everyone had gathered around the desk,
Daphne and Pansy were on Harry's right, the Gryffindors on his left, and the Ravenclaws and
lone Hufflepuff stood a bit further back. "So," Slughorn said cheerfully, "by now I take it
you've all at least had a chance to skim over the material you were provided a few weeks
before, yes? How did you find it?"

"It was enlightening, to say the least," Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister, said with a faint
smile. "I had no idea the Muggles knew so much about how people's minds worked."

"Oh, I'm sure the Muggles know a great deal more than that now," Slughorn chuckled
jovially, "as the books I suggested are all older than any of you, and Muggle sci-en-fists come
up with new things every day, it seems. Do you feel, having read at least some of the works,
that you've learned something, Miss Patil?"

Padma nodded vigorously, "Yes, I learned a lot. I've always watched people, but being able to
understand the theory behind the patterns I've observed has leant a whole new depth to it."

"Just so," Slughorn said with a smile, then turned to the others, "If you haven't at least read
the first few on the list, I recommend you do so as soon as possible. Perhaps you can borrow
a copy from Miss Patil, if necessary. You'll find that your relationships will grow more, shall
we say, beneficial if you put the techniques and theories outlined in but the first book I named
to use in your life. And all without a single spell cast!"

Lyra smirked, glancing around the room, "I looked through the list too, Professor. I wouldn't
have pegged you as a student of psychology."

"I'm not. But I, like Miss Patil, have made a lifetime study of people, and that has made me a
happy old man. It made me a happy young man decades ago, too."

Some of the students chuckled at the little joke, but most seemed unsure if it would be rude,
including Harry, so they only shifted uncomfortably.

"Now, the reason I've given you all that list is because I see a lot of potential in you all, just
as I have with students in other classes. You are all outstanding people and students in your
own way, and I have always made it a habit to encourage exceptionalism."
"But why?" Padma asked, narrowing her eyes, "What do you get out of it?"

To Harry's surprise, Slughorn's smile only widened, "An excellent question, no doubt spurred
on by a suspicion the very books you've read has spawned, yes? Well, I'll tell you that there
are two reasons. The first is that it will benefit you. I am, above all else, a teacher. It is my
greatest claim to have been instrumental in helping to spread wealth, knowledge, and broaden
the horizons of my students. The second, well..."

Harry grinned, sure he knew this thanks to Dumbledore, "The second is because your grateful
protégés like to reward you, in turn, too."

"Just so," Slughorn said shamelessly, still smiling as he nodded in Harry's direction. "I am not
a believer in profit at another's expense. Prosperity is not and should not be what Muggle
students of finance call a zero-sum game. By increasing the potential wealth of my students, I
increase my own potential wealth. Because of that, when my students actualize that potential
wealth..."

"You become more wealthy," Daphne said quietly, "in various ways, probably, through gifts
and favors. It's a very Slytherin way of doing things."

"That it is," Slughorn replied, just as cheerfully as any other answer. Ron scowled silently,
but Harry knew it was no insult.

"To further that end," the older man said after a few moments of reflection, "I would like to
formally invite you to a little get-together at the end of term. Let us say, on Monday night
before the train heads back to London. It will be held in honor of you, part of my newest crop
of movers and shakers in the world, but that part will be our little secret. There will be food
and drink, of course, the finest money can buy, but that isn't all! No, this will be your first
chance- your first of many, I hope- to rub shoulders with some of the most famous and
influential people in our country... or even beyond! Because as any Slytherin can tell you..."

"Money helps, but it's truly who you know that opens the Gringotts Vaults," Pansy murmured.

Again, Slughorn smiled, but didn't say anything else.

"So, I'll see you all then. Feel free to bring a little, shall we say, arm-candy if you wish. I'll
have the written announcements out as soon as I finalize a date. Go on, you have classes
waiting!"

Hermione jumped with a little squeak, "Oh no, Ancient Runes," then hurried from the room
after unlocking the door.

While Harry wanted to talk to Daphne and Pansy, they hurried from the room before he could
say anything, while Ron, Padma, and Susan shared a few uncomfortable looks and headed for
the door. The ginger stopped in the doorway, though, and looked back.

"Go on," Harry told him, "Maybe use the chance to apologize to Padma for the Yule Ball. I
need to talk to Professor Slughorn myself."
"Er, alright," Ron agreed, frowning at the reminder of how immature he'd been just two years
before, but did look down the hall and hurried off.

"So what else can I do for you, Mr. Potter, Miss Sendai?" Slughorn asked, more sedately now
that he didn't need to hold up the act so strongly.

This time, it was Harry's wand who shut and locked the door. "We need to talk, Sir."

"I can see that," Slughorn muttered, his face darkening slightly with apprehension, "About
what?"

"Horcruxes."

"What?" Slughorn's normally ruddy face turned almost yellow in an instant as he paled. "I
don't know what that is, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I've got nothing more to say on the
matter, so if you don't mind, I'll have to ask you to-"

As the overweight man struggled to pull himself to his feet, Lyra's form vanished, to be
replaced with Lilith's true form, three inches taller still than Harry's even after another growth
spurt. "I wasn't asking, Professor," Harry told him quietly, turning his wand in Slughorn's
direction and using a mild, silent Banishing Charm to push him into the chair. "I just want to
talk. I don't want to know how they're made."

"Dumbledore," Slughorn gasped, "Dumbledore put you up to this! I should have known!"

"Yes, he did," Lilith said, drawing Slughorn's gaze to her slightly pink-tinted flesh before it
rose to her violet eyes and seemed to fix there.

"Professor," Harry said, forcing calm despite his own annoyance that things had escalated so
quickly, "I'm not trying to be rude here, or threaten you, or anything. I just locked the door so
we could talk in private. I need to know what you told Tom Riddle."

"I didn't tell him anything, as- as you'd know if you saw that memory I gave Albus!"

Harry shook his head, putting his wand back into his sleeve to rest both palms on the
cluttered desk as he leaned in, "Professor, I'm going to ask nicely one more time. I'll come to
your party, I'll socialize, I'll even let you 'cultivate' me publicly if you want, but we need that
memory. How many did he make? It's the only way any of us will live to be cultivated."

"He'll kill me," Slughorn whimpered, his eyes still locked on Lilith's, but streaming with tears
as his body shook, "He'll kill me if I let you find out."

"He already wants to kill you," Harry reminded him, "and holding your little Slug Club party
with just the people in this room a few minutes ago and not with Malfoy, Nott, or a few
others would tell him exactly where your loyalties lie if nothing else already has, like coming
back to Hogwarts. You've already publicly declared your side, Professor. Help us, so we can
end him."

"I... I..."
Lilith grinned, then sent a mental question to Harry, who didn't let his expression change as
he replied. Her smile widened, but seemed to grow more cruel and calculating. "I can give
you what you want too, Professor, if you help us."

Slughorn swallowed, somehow finding it within himself to wrench his eyes free of the
Succubus'. "I- I don't know what you mean," he whispered, staring pointedly down at the
floor before slamming his eyes shut.

"You know what I am," she replied coolly, "and what I can do. I know what you've dreamed
of for years but been too afraid to try yourself. Well, Master Harry's done the work, taken the
risk, made all the payments. If you give us what we need, Master will do everything he said...
and I'll do more."

Harry frowned. He knew when he silently agreed what it was Lilith intended, but thinking
about her with Slughorn was not appealing to him. He said nothing, however.

Slughorn hesitated again.

Lilith let her wings expand to full size, enough that it seemed they might even be able to
support her entire form aloft without magic, and sent a thick wave of pink Fog through the
room. Even mostly immune, Harry felt himself immediately grow hard, but Slughorn was
nearly thrown back in his chair with the force of his sudden arousal.

"Now that's just not fair," Slughorn whimpered, so quietly Harry could barely hear even with
his heightened senses.

"You've always dreamed about her," Lilith cooed, as her body shifted into a human woman's
form, one that seemed vaguely familiar but whom he couldn't recognize. "I know her as well
as you do, now. Everything you've ever dreamed. I can use my mouth... you've never had a
blow-job before, have you? I'm happy to do it. Imagine her, on her knees, servicing you,
rewarding you for all you did for her..."

As she sank to those same knees, Harry recognized the form Lilith had taken: the sharp but
attractive features of Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Only she was younger
than any picture Harry had seen of her, just fifteen or so. Before she became famous, Harry
realized, He's been dreaming of her for a while, then.

"A little taste," Lilith whispered, then literally tore open Slughorns trousers and pushed him
far back in the chair to access his member, which at least was of average size. Her mouth
closed around him without hesitation, but Harry grimaced. "Pet... I was going to ask if I could
have you as her tonight, but after watching this, I'm not sure I want to."

"Sorry, Master," she giggled mentally as her work on the old wizard began picking up speed,
"But I did just say a taste..."

Just as Slughorn started grunting, less than a minute after the fellatio had begun, Lilith
withdrew. "A taste, remember? The information, please."
Slughorn whimpered again, but his response was fast, and he sounded very desperate for
more than one thing. "And- and you'll, er, finish? I was so close!"

"And give you every protection we can."

"S- Seven," Slughorn whispered, "He made seven, I think. Something about it being the most
powerful magical number. I... I have the memory."

He struggled to move for his wand, but Harry, on the alert, watched as he Summoned a vial
from his private stores, using it to contain the single short, silvery thread he withdrew. He
handed it to Harry, then Lilith cooed, "Excellent, Professor. Now, I'll finish you off, as I said.
But if it turns out the memory is altered again, if it's not the truth, we will know. Then I will
come for you in ways you will not like. If it is true, then you will cum for me. In me, if you
prefer. So... is it true?"

"It is," Slughorn whimpered again, his hips thrusting of their own volition into empty air, "I
swear! Please!"

"Go on, Master," Lilith told him, "I'll satisfy him. It might take more than twice with the
heavy dose, but I figured faster results mattered. I'd go straight to the Headmaster with that."

"R- Right. Er, I'd say have fun, but..."

Gwenog Jones' body shrugged as if to say, 'whatever', before she leaned back in with all
apparent enthusiasm and resumed the work before her. Slughorn was lost in ecstasy and
didn't even see him leave.

"Yaxley... you had better have a good reason for interrupting my time with your precious
daughter."

The hulking form of the girl's father stopped a respectful distance away and sank to one knee,
his eyes unerringly finding Voldemort's magically-enhanced member stretching his second
daughter's lips and throat as he used her.

The sight might have bothered him not so long ago, Voldemort mused while he ceased his
movements and pulled away from where the had pumped into the eighteen year old girl's
mouth and moved to sit on his throne. Doesn't seem to now, though... perhaps his effusive
refusal to accept her as part of his family any longer is genuine? "Come, girl, don't stop now.
Continue your work. What is it, Yaxley?"

"My Lord," the brute-faced wizard murmured, bowing low briefly, "Runcorn and I have both
heard rumors we thought... significant."

"You interrupt me for rumors," Voldemort hissed, making Yaxley recoil, though the girl,
heavily under the influence of the Dark Lord's powerful Imperius Curse, obeyed without
hesitation, scooting over on her knees to suck on him from the side.
"Y- Yes, My Lord," Yaxley admitted, "but we thought it important. It's about Potter, My
Lord."

"Speak, then," the pale man hissed, letting his head fall back onto the throne. He'd been so
close before... even if it never truly satisfied him, it did feel very good to achieve release, and
what led up to it was nice, too. This interruption had set him back at least twenty minutes. Ah
well, I can make her jaw even more tired in making up for it. That will work as payment, I
think.

"We, er, well, we noticed first that Potter seemed to, well, be different from how all our
reports had him acting. We first noticed it at the start of the term, and almost all our loyal
children report the same sort of change in their own way."

"So, Potter has finally decided to mature. Interesting," Voldemort hissed, "but hardly
important... or unexpected."

"Well, there is that," Yaxley said, his face darkening as he glanced toward his daughter's well-
practiced mouth for a moment, "but it's more than just that. Many students, your loyal Death
Eaters' families among them, have become, well, more... promiscuous. More than normal, I
mean. It seems to have started with Potter. Rumor has it he's shagging at least four witches on
the regular."

"Again, interesting, but I fail to see the import," Voldemort hissed. "What is your point? You
yourself have access to Narcissa, Bellatrix, your own wife, and if you asked, your precious
prodigal here."

Yaxley's eyes widened. That was a prize- a reward, and not one he'd known of. Which meant
that, regardless of his words, his Master was actually happy to hear this! He had to capitalize
on this good favor, make the most of it. Malfoy's fall from grace had opened up more than
one spot to move up in his Lord's inner circle, after all. "There's- there's more, My Lord. It
seems that one witch, in particular, has come out of the wood-work. We haven't got a name,
something Asian, but her first name's a lot like Potter's mother. And this girl, she- well, it
seems she's at the center of it, too. Potter looks to her for a lot, and she's shagging Potter's
other friends, even the witch, too."

"Go on," Voldemort whispered, "Tell me everything about this... witch."

Yaxley nodded, swallowed once, then explained, "She's in the sixth year, like Potter and his
other friends. Dark hair, we think maybe part Japanese. Has that look, but not real strong.
Slender, but, uh, well-built."

"You mean she has a pretty face and a large bosom?"

Yaxley nodded. Showing that sort of desire so openly in front of the Dark Lord might have
gotten him hexed a few months ago. Now...

"You may have her, if you capture her," Voldemort told the other wizard, "but I will sample
her first if she is truly that appealing. What else?"
"Well, My Lord, she- she knows magic others can't do. There are rumors she's gotten Potter
and his friends involved in sex magic of some sort. Rituals... things like some of the old rites
used to be able to do, but apparently a lot stronger. And she's rubbish with a wand, otherwise.
Never even really completes course-work, and never casts the spells in class. But the teachers
let it slide, I suppose. No one's reported her being reprimanded or scolded, not even after a
month or more of the term."

"Now that," Voldemort murmured, lifting his lidded, red eyes to look at Yaxley while his
daughter continued to work on him, "that is interesting. This witch is magical, if she can do
rituals, but does not know how to cast the way we do... Ugadao, Ilvermorny, they use wands
or staves. Other schools less-so, including the Asian ones. That may be part of the reason, it
is difficult to say without more information. Tell me more."

"We- we don't know a lot more, My Lord," Yaxley admitted, "but with your permission, I had
been planning on getting my youngest daughter to, er, to join in on the rituals if she can. To
infiltrate herself into that group, since Parkinson and Davis' daughters are useless now."

"Yes... they will be dealt with. Plans are already in the works. Proceed. If your daughter
succeeds, you will be granted boons such as I have not even given dear Bellatrix. This
information may be quite useful. As it stands now... girl, go please your father with your
mouth. I take it you do not object, Yaxley?"

"N- No, My Lord," Yaxley stammered, standing up and taking a half-step back. If he were
honest with himself, he wasn't actually interested. She was his blood, after all. But when the
pretty witch, naked as the day she was born just eighteen and a half years ago, started
reaching into his robes and tugging on his member with a glassy look and a smile, he could
not resist.

"When you are finished, girl, it's time to see if we can add a future Death Eater to your
womb..."

"Attention! Attention, students! The Headmaster has asked me to speak with you all this
morning to make an announcement! Students, may I have your attention please!"

With Lyra making her usual rounds beneath the table for their slowly-expanding circle of
friends, who this morning included Hannah sitting between Neville and Ron, and Lavender
beyond Ron with Parvati across from her getting her own brief pleasure, Harry looked up at
the first call to find most of the students in the Great Hall that Friday at dinner were too busy
snogging or otherwise engaged to pay attention quickly. The lion's roar that blasted out from
McGonagall's wand a few seconds later was a bit more effective at getting their attention,
however.

The red-faced, clearly annoyed Deputy Headmistress cleared her throat once as she sent a
glare down at the entire student body. "Thank you for your attention. Now, as I was saying,
the Headmaster has asked me to relay a message to all students of fifth year and above.
Beginning tomorrow and for three more Saturdays, each of you will be required to attend a...
an educational class on human sexuality and safety practices involving the same."
Harry watched the older woman sigh deeply as the majority of the student body burst into
cheers, laughter, or titters of amusement. She let it go on for a few more seconds, but a
second lift of her wand had the lion's call go out again. "Ahem. Now, as I have said, this class
is required for all students of fifth year and above, and it will take place immediately
following breakfast on Saturday, which means it will begin at ten in the morning. Roll will be
taken by your heads of house and prefects. If you are not present, you can expect to be
disciplined. This is not up for debate. You will be present, or I cannot guarantee your
continued tuition at Hogwarts.

"The classes will run for approximately two hours per session, and will primarily be taught
by our Staff Healer, Madame Pomfrey. As you may have guessed, we teachers are concerned-
very concerned- with the behavior many of you shown lately. We understand that, ahem,
hormones are running rampant at your ages. We must, however, urge caution and
circumspection. Use approved measures to prevent, shall we say, unwanted occurrences from
happening. Or, better yet, refrain from acts that can cause such issues in the first place. If you
have further questions about the classes, you may come to me or the other Heads of Houses,
or Madame Pomfrey herself during our normal office hours. Thank you."

Harry grinned as Hermione's hurried lean-in to discuss that announcement was interrupted by
a very talented set of lips on her own lower ones, causing her words to hitch. "What do you
su-sup-supp-pose that was all about?"

"Obvious, isn't it?" Ron, already satisfied himself, was tucking in but thankfully spoke
between bites. "The teachers were bound to notice all the students doing... well, what they've
been doing recently. I reckon they just decided they could do something about it besides try
and give everyone in the upper years detentions."

"That makes sense," Ginny said reasonably as she glanced around the Hall over her shoulder,
"It's probably going to be a class on, you know, how not to pass on diseases, or not end up
pregnant."

"Maybe they'll try and teach us useful techniques," Dean hissed from nearby.

"Maybe," Harry agreed, "but we already know a bit, don't we? We've had a good teacher."

"Thank you, Master," Lilith whispered in his head.

"True," Hermione said with a blush and a glance down between her legs, where her skirt
bulged upwards to follow Lyra's head, but where no body could be seen. "I suppose it's not so
different from Muggle schools in that case, we would have gotten at least a basic education
about things like that by our age, and usually every year after through the required courses.
This is the first year I've heard it mentioned, though. I couldn't have just missed it, could I?"

"No," Ron chuckled, "this is the first year. Even Bill and Charlie didn't hear an announcement
like that, I bet. It's probably because, well... you know why."

Hermione nodded as she started nibbling on her lip, a telltale sign she was getting close.
"We'll just have to see how it goes to know for sure," Harry reminded them, "and we'll have
to attend, even if most of us are safe from diseases and mostly safe from getting pregnant
without wanting it. It's not worth trying to skive and getting in real trouble. On a side note...
DA meeting tonight? We need to be better organized about how we're searching the castle."

"Good i- idea," Hermione whimpered, then gasped quietly as her climax finally arrived.

Gods, I love watching girls cum, Harry thought to himself with a smile. It's so sexy.

The Death Eaters still capable of serving as more than lumps of flesh for the pleasure of his
more capable ones were gathered around the long, low dining room table at Malfoy Manor
once more. Half of them had a head bobbing between their legs, though fortunately no one
engaged dared to give any attention to the slaves servicing them. Muggleborns all, doing their
best to serve their betters under the effects (for most of them) of the Imperius Curse. His
former right-hand, Mr. Malfoy himself, was adorning Voldemort's own member, while his
favorite younger toy rewarded nearby Narcissa for her good work further down the table,
hidden from view of most of those present. This was the largest meeting he had had in quite a
while, and Voldemort silently chided himself for being so... distracted, lately. He had let his
efforts fall by the wayside as his rekindled desires had taken temporary priority. But that was
alright. He was... better, now. He could set aside his pleasure, as he was doing now, for the
greater good. Enjoy the pleasures of the flesh without being beholden to them... as his
followers were doing, too. "So, my friends," he hissed by way of opening the meeting, "we
have gathered again. I must apologize... I have been busy of late, and our meetings have been
few. This changes now. Several of you who have not been in attendance lately will note some
position changes. This reflects Lord Voldemort's current disposition regarding his followers.
Note this going forward: continued success and servitude is rewarded. Failure... leads to less
pleasant things. Just ask dear Lucius. Oh, but he cannot answer... his mouth is busy, is it not,
Mulciber?"

The older wizard grunted and nodded. He might have been ashamed, once, to openly enjoy
the touch of another man, but this new Dark Lord seemed to care little for the predilections
and peccadillos of his followers. "Thank you for that, My Lord."

Voldemort sent him a wane, somehow twisted smile, one hand waving his wand idly through
the air with his elbow on the armrest of the grand chair at the head of the table, while the
other fell to Narcissa's neatly-brushed, gorgeous blonde hair. It rose and fell with her, with
every stroke she gave his shaft. But again, he was in control, now.

Whatever had happened to him... the effects lingered, but he had mastered them.

"Thus we begin. I have heard your reports of late, there is no need to go over them again.
Rabastan, Rudolphus, you will continue working with our allies in Eastern Europe. We will
need wands before we move forward. I expect results soon."

"Yes, M'Lord," the older brother, husband of Bellatrix, responded, his voice a low, rough
growl, "We'll have them soon. Albania's Ministry wants ter openly side with you, they just
don' have the public suppor' yet."
"Good, good... Yaxley. Dolohov. You continue to make inroads into the Ministry. Accelerate
your work. Use the promise of our new arrangement to encourage more enlistment. Surely
the dark desires of our good public servants can be accommodated by our organization, even
if not yet so openly, yes? And who knows, when we rule, my friends... who knows what
could be done openly?"

Several faces around the room twisted into dark joy as they shared knowing glances with
each other. A culture such as theirs definitely had its skeletons and secrets, and many of them
railed at being forced to keep them that way. But if they could act on their desires openly... It
would be an entirely new game.

"Constantin, Rembly, Petrov. You will continue watching for leaking information about
Hogwarts, using your connections within the Ministry. Do not draw suspicion to yourselves, I
still need you where you are. Your positions as international liaisons gives you some leeway,
but that information is paramount. We must always be abreast of what that old Muggle-
worshiping fool is doing. Of course, if you hear anything of Potter, send it along... but our
young protégés have been doing better in that regard, haven't they, Mr. Montague?"

The older man nodded proudly, standing up from his place just three chairs down at
Voldemort's right, and gesturing behind him at one of the two dozen or so people who were
not permitted at the table itself, but whose presence was required for one reason or another.
"My son, My Lord, Corvus."

"Ah, yes," Voldemort smiled again, gesturing at the weedy boy, "You have given us most
useful information thus far, and you will be rewarded accordingly. Continue, and so will your
rewards. Tell me, Corvus... what do you desire of Lord Voldemort?"

The young man glanced at his father first, who gave him a little nod, then stepped forward
again and lifted his chin proudly. He was nervous to be in the presence of his Master for the
first time, but it was a proud moment. "I desire only to serve, My Lord."

"Nonsense," Voldemort chuckled, waving away the boy's words, who looked suddenly very
embarrassed, "A noble sentiment, but we all know that none of us, not even dear Bella, are
here only to serve. So... tell me, what can I do to reward you for the information you have
sent our way, and to encourage more of the same?"

"Er... well, there is one thing," the boy whispered, glancing around the room again, "G-
Greengrass. D- The Daughter. The older one."

"Ah... Greengrass... Cyrus' older girl."

Corvus Montague nodded, and Voldemort grinned, "It is done, then. When we have taken
over, when we rule, she will serve you and you alone. It will be a fitting reward for you and
her both, since she has... turned against us openly. As for her father, well... he deserves only
one reward, does he not?"

"A slow an' painful deaf," Montague Sr. grumbled. A round of chuckles followed, and
Voldemort smiled.
"Yes, that it shall be, while his wife shall join our... support staff. She is pleasant to look
upon, no? Now, return to Hogwarts, young Corvus, and know that your reward is coming. In
the meantime, I will send you something else. Something to while away the hours until your
true prize is given, perhaps. Take care of it when it arrives, it will be difficult to keep out of
the old man's sight, and I will not be able to replace it easily."

"Yes, My Lord, thank you, My Lord," Corvus said firmly, giving a low bow, as was proper.

Voldemort was actually impressed, as the younger man stepped back into the shadows and
the elder sat down again, grinning triumphantly at the others that surrounded him. He had
actually handled himself well, and had barely glanced at Narcissa while she sucked on him.
He had self-control... useful. A good sign. "So, for those of you who were not aware of the
information young Montague brought us, it is that Potter's new-found ally, the one from
across the Atlantic, has been the source of both his... attitude change, and his growing circle
of influence. Tremere, Harlen, Gambol, Stitch, Hendrick, and Topher, you will put together a
team of unassigned assistants, and track down any information at all you can find on this...
Lyra Sendai. I want to know where she came from, her lineage, her grades, anything at all.
Bring me results as you find them. Go. All of you, go. No, not you, Narcissa. You stay where
you are, my pet."

Soon, the room was empty except for Voldemort and his two most favored receptacles. It was
quieter, with both of them now licking him, and easier to think. He still needed more
information, that was the problem. He didn't know why their wands had been so...
incompatible. He didn't know why Potter was suddenly getting stronger and smarter, though
he believed Corvus Montague was correct, and that this new transfer student, barely a witch
herself by all accounts, unable to cast almost any spell and barely even in classes, had
something to do with it.

To anyone with an inkling of intelligence it was obvious she was not what she masqueraded
as... but who was she?

"Alright, I think this plan should work," a frazzled-looking Hermione said as she leaned back
in the chair provided by the Room of Requirement, which had gone above and beyond thanks
to Neville. Harry, on her left, was exhausted as well. He and Ron, who sat on the witch's
other side, had just spent the last five hours organizing teams of three D.A. members, mostly
along friend groups. Their priority, thanks to excellent advice from Sirius when they had
mentioned it to the lower-years' DADA teacher, was broad skillsets. One person in each team
was designated the "Defender," typically the member with the best Defense scores (excluding
the last year, of course), or who did particularly well in the practical aspects of the D.A.
meetings from the current year of when Umbridge had been in charge. The other two or
occasionally three team members were chosen for either social skill in the hopes that they
could learn something new from talking to non-D.A. members, and a thorough nature, which
Sirius and Harry both felt was beneficial when looking for physical clues to the missing girls'
whereabouts.

Hermione had then taken each of those teams and divided them as evenly as possible by
work-load more than area covered, to specific parts of the castle. Groups that could only
spare an hour were given a room or two and the halls between them, while the ones willing
and able to volunteer more time were assigned as many as ten rooms.

The D.A. had grown so much this year that nine teams were still 'free' to roam the school,
assisting other teams as needed if they ran into what Hermione politely called 'interference',
or found a particularly troublesome room to search, like the semi-mythical costume room
from Hogwarts' long-defunct theater course.

Now, Harry's first close friends were nearly alone in the still cavernous room, but a few
stragglers in the free teams were discussing among themselves how best to make use of their
individual talents to assist the other teams in locating the missing girls.

"So," Ron asked quietly after a few moments of relative silence, "What do we do now?"

Hermione drew in a breath to answer, but Harry reached up with the back of his hand to
caress her neck beneath the voluminous hair and spoke first, "Now we wait."

"What?" Hermione protested, actually pulling slightly away from the simple massage he was
trying to give her, "I can't just sit around and do nothing."

Harry gave her a quelling look and renewed the effort of his right hand, "You aren't doing
nothing. You are resting and waiting for the teams you just drove yourself spare organizing a
chance to do their work."

Ron frowned too, but nodded after a moment, settling back into his own chair to idly watch
the three teams on the other side of the room. One seemed to reach an agreement then, and
started walking toward the doors, with a few of the others waving goodbye in their direction.
Normally, Harry knew the ginger would be the first to slack off, or suggest a bit of fun. But
Romilda Vane's 'disappearance' still weighed on him no doubt, making him feel unduly
responsible, like Harry, for the ones who were missing now. Add in that both had known
about and been with Mandy Brocklehurst but not freed her- even if she had asked to stay-
before her brutal murder was even worse.

"Look," Harry attempted to explain, "Something I've learned over the last few years is that
the hardest part of leadership is delegating responsibility and trusting your people to do their
part. I trusted the two of you since the troll on Halloween in our first year, but you both know
I hate relying on you two for help, especially if it puts you at risk. The teachers and Aurors
haven't found the girls because the castle is too big, and they didn't have the bodies, the sheer
manpower, to search three wings, almost an entire floor, every hour.

"We'll find them, but we have to trust our people. We are doing our part by assigning roles,
being here to coordinate, to be reported to. We are leading. Yes, it sucks. But we are best used
here. So yes, we wait, and we try to relax."

Slowly, Hermione settled back into her seat and let out a long breath, "I- I'm not sure I can.
This whole situation of girls going missing is..." Her voice dropped to a low volume, just
above a whisper, "After- after Romilda, it all seems so... so personal."
One of Harry's eyebrows rose at the admission. He hadn't suspected Hermione felt the same
way, too, but now that she mentioned it... she had not protested nearly as much as he would
have suspected, was almost complicit in keeping Romilda there, hadn't told anyone... He
could not recall her ever making use of the girl, unlike Ginny, he, Ron, and Neville (and
certainly Lilith), but she had not objected, either. Was this her way of assuaging guilt, too?

Ron frowned thoughtfully, "Yeah, I can see that. I mean, we all made, uh... we all had fun
with her and her... talents, but what happened was an accident. One we fixed up as best we
could. I get it, though. This is all pretty... close."

Hermione nodded, reaching out with one hand to twist it into Ron's before resting the other
on Harry's thigh, "I just... I imagine what I would do in their place." Her voice was so soft
Harry barely registered it even from just a few inches away. "What I would feel like, being
stunned in the back. Waking up bound, in the dark, naked. No wand. Helpless. Then- then to
have someone... use me. Use me when I couldn't fight back. Not like... well..."

Harry grinned, sharing a glance with Ron behind Hermione's head, both clearly remembering
their time in the fake Library, when Hermione had received her first set of Runes. But clearly,
there was a difference. For all the role-play of that experience, having it happen in real life
would be... there were no words to describe it, though Harry knew people around the world
experienced it every day. Then again, perhaps it was Harry's recent experiences in a woman's
body, or as a woman named Iris, with Ron or Lilith inside her, connecting literally inside
herself, in that most intimate of ways.

Having that same feeling taken instead, in a forcible invasion, rather than freely given with
trusted friends...

Suddenly, he felt very unclean. There was no other word for it, but the word itself seemed so
very inadequate at the same time. I've done that, he reminded himself, With Mandy, and
Lavender, and Pansy, and even Daphne to some extent.

Somehow, he must have been broadcasting his thoughts, because from elsewhere in the
castle, Lilith's voice responded in his mind, "Every one of those women wanted you without
the Fog, Master. Remember it only intensifies what is already there.. Lavender in particular
did literally ask for it."

"Maybe," he conceded more purposefully, "but Romilda?"

"Accidental," the Succubus sent back without a moment's pause, "and we undid as much of
the damage as could have been hoped for. If it helps your own guilt, think long and hard
about how you would feel after being kidnapped and raped repeatedly. Then ask yourself if
you think the other girls feel that way, or if they keep coming back willingly. Personally, I
don't have to think very hard to know the answer."

Lilith's words didn't completely remove Harry's sense of guilt and responsibility, but he did
feel markedly better after the meaning sank in.

While he had been talking to the Succubus in his mind, Hermione and Ron had been talking
more verbally, and he caught the tail end of that conversation. Ron said, "I can see why it
would stress you out, a situation like that, but you are already doing more than anyone else,
more than anyone could possibly expect. And you have to know- well, when Harry was taken
last year, a lot of people went looking. If something happened to you, those same people
would find you. Harry would find you. I would find you. Between the D.A., the teachers, the
Aurors, we'd tear the castle apart to the foundations to find you. You know that, right?"

"Too right," Harry agreed, leaning over to kiss Hermione's temple, which was wet with salty
tears. While he was occupied, both of the other teams had left, which meant they were alone.
Which meant Ron, of course, wanted sex. But this might not be the best time, so he thought
about a careful change, and below them the chairs they had been sitting in shifted into a long,
low couch with soft cushions, large enough for six people, and the table before them
transformed into a long ottoman. Hermione's papers rose into the air and stacked themselves
as neatly as Harry could manage with his own concentration, and landed in the empty spot to
his left, while a blanket appeared over their laps, all three of them, and drifted downward to
drape comfortably across their legs.

"Wha's at for?" Ron asked, confused, "In case the others come back? To cover up our fun?"

"No," Harry said, rolling his eyes, "No fun- unless Hermione's up for it. I was actually just
thinking a cuddle. I think she could use one."

Ron blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him, then smiled widely after a few
seconds' consideration, "I like that idea. Smart, Harry. Get comfortable, love, we'll snuggle
in."

Still sniffling, Hermione did as Ron said, sinking further into the couch before her boys
joined her, one with a head on her shoulder, the other with hers on his, hands intertwining. No
one said much for several hours. Instead, they sat quietly, peacefully. Harry didn't even think
Ron fell asleep. For once, he was content just to be there, with them, his friends, not doing
anything.

It was, in Harry's estimation, too good to last, but nice to enjoy while it did.

Even when the moment passed, he felt that way. We need this more often. There's more to...
intimacy, than just sex, he reminded himself as the runner who'd just thrown open the doors
and come charging toward them skidded to a halt, though it looks like the peace is over
already.

"We, we got somethin' new," Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw in Ginny's year who had been at
the Ministry too and survived, gasped as he skidded to a halt. "One of ours, a 'Claw, name's
Ed- Edgar- Wallpole, Isabella's his girlfriend. He's brought in a few of his mates to help look
too, once he 'eard what we were doin'. An- and one of 'em remembered seein' something, and
now Edgar thinks he knows where she might be. Used a fekkin' Pointer spell, and got a ping
on something she had with 'er when she was seen last, an earring."

All three of them jumped up, but Harry lifted a hand to the others, "No, you two stay here in
case we get more info. I'll go. Hermione, you're the best at coordinating, if we get more
before I come back or send word, then Ron goes. One of us has to stay here."
The other two both nodded reluctantly, but resolutely. Harry turned back to the younger
wizard, "Alright, were are we going?"

"Fourth floor, right above the Library's where I left 'im. 'E said it was below the Astronomy
Tower, where it was pointin', though."

Harry frowned, consulting his mental map of the school, then nodded. "Alright, let's go. I'll
get word to some help."

Michael didn't question how, probably assumed Hermione would take care of it, but Harry
was already sending out a mental message to Lilith as they started running, the less well-
conditioned boy panting.

But he didn't show signs of stopping. All of them wanted those girls found and rescued, and
they wanted it now.

Isabella Ross, half of the subject of so much stress and anxiety within the castle, sighed
blissfully as she stroked the rather average penis of the younger student absentmindedly. She
had figured out the problem with the Vanishing Cabinet a week before, and had been waiting
for him to come back and visit the little hidey-hole she had once used for quiet escapes with
her boyfriend. Former boyfriend, she told herself, for he would not want her now. Not that
she cared just then. She was happy enough to be Malfoy's plaything. She liked sucking his
dick, and letting him rut on her, liked stroking it, touching it.

He had told her to like it, so she did. It was simple, really. Doing so made her happy, it made
her feel good, so why shouldn't she?

Like figuring out what was wrong with the Cabinet. He had been so worried and stressed out
that he'd had some trouble performing. She had been desperate to help after learning that. He
had told her, after all, that he needed her for stress relief and pleasure. And as much as she
liked him using her, because he told her she did, she knew the Cabinet still not working
created more stress than she could soothe.

Thus, her body leaking his fluids from both lower holes and with dried remnants around her
mouth, just as he said he liked it, she had explained the problem and how to fix it.

It had been the work of two hours after that, and now it was done. They'd even tested it, first
she and then young Lord Malfoy himself had stuck his head out of the Cabinet's twin in the
back room of Borgin and Burke's.

So he had rewarded her with filling her pussy again, and was now relaxing, drafting a letter
for his master, not that she could conceive of anyone better than the one who made her feel
so... so...

Isabella sighed in bliss again, "My Lord, can I suck on you again?"

Draco looked up from the desk in surprise, then down at her hand, which still stroked him.
"Oh, I forgot I told you to wank me. Yes, go ahead, slut. Make sure you drink it all."
"Yes, my Lord!" She dove under the desk with eagerness, the bruising on her legs from the
frequent shift in position of no consequence next to how good pleasing him felt.

Sated several times over that afternoon and evening, she had to work a long time to get his
pleasure into her mouth, but the aching in her jaw didn't matter next to how good she felt
doing it for him.

Shortly after she had licked him clean again, Lord Malfoy stood up from the desk, grabbing
Isabella by the hair and hauling her up. She came willingly, her hand already moving to cup
his sack and knead it, as she was trained. He liked being worked constantly there, and she
liked doing it for him.

Isabella liked it when her Master felt good, it felt good for her too.

He folded the letter and attached it to an owl while she continued fondling him, then sent it
out the classroom's only window. 'Classroom' might have been a bit of a stretch, if she were
in her right mind, for the teacher's desk faced only four chairs when she had first seen it.
Those had been transfigured into the now fluid-stained bed he led her to, before throwing her
onto the mattress, face-up.

Isabella did not feel the pain in her scalp from the tearing hairs. All she felt was bliss that her
Master liked using her body.

"You might be due for a recap. Once My Lord's reinforcements arrive, they're going to make
use of you, too. You'll serve them as you serve me. Imperio."

Isabella felt the magic, the pure magic of bliss, wash over her, and smiled, "Yes, my Lord."

His hand, his smooth, loving hand, moved down to crush one of her bruised breasts, twisting
and kneading the whole thing. She liked that he hurt her like that, it made him happy, so it
made her happy. He slapped both her breasts then, one after the other, and Isabella smiled
upward as he continued to loom over her. On the other side of the room, an older message
waited inside a certain Vanishing Cabinet, just waiting for him to shut the door. The one he
had sent out was not at all incriminating, he'd been certain of that. A simple message to a
certain shop-owner, not even listed by name, who would deliver the hidden message on the
back of that message to the true recipient, who would know to close the Cabinet on his end
and then open it, and deal with the message there appropriately.

All laid out in advance, prepared from the summer past.

Draco smiled as hurting his pet, controlling her, dominating her, slowly brought him back to
full arousal again. Even as pent up as he'd been after being on potions that essentially made
him impotent for so long- and curse Severus Snape once again for trying to ruin his family
line- he could only perform so much in a day, and he'd used his slut well as a reward for
finally doing the job he'd taken her for.

"Maybe I'll keep you, once my Lord takes over."

The thought made her very happy.

"Nah... I'll give you to Crabbe and Goyle. Even if they think I've fallen out of favor because
my parents are fools, doesn't mean I'm not in the Dark Lord's good books still. He'll reward
me with better. And if not... well, there are other, prettier sluts than you in this school. But at
least this pussy's still reasonably good... for now."

That thought, as her Master pushed into her once again, made her very happy too. Anything
he said, she would do happily, blissfully. It was all that mattered.
 Lost (Girls / Memories / Innocence)
Chapter Summary

It's a bit dark. And by a bit I mean a lot. Trigger Warnings: Violence, death, sexual
violence, discussions of same. It's not a kind chapter... but necessary for advancing the
story.
There's also some family stuff (Ginny x Ron).

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 90 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 54 : Lost (Girls / Memories / Innocence)

"This is the place, Potter," a very worn-out looking Ravenclaw seventh year said, gesturing at
a nondescript classroom door down a rarely-used hallway on the edge of the castle on the
fourth floor. There were six other D.A. members around them, two teams now, plus Harry
himself, whose nerves were on edge enough to make his hair spark almost like Hermione's
with static. "You used to come here for some privacy with her?"

The older boy nodded, blushing. Clearly, he was not ready to discuss his encounters with his
girlfriend so openly, but Harry was beyond caring. It was hard to find an empty room these
days, he had heard, since so many couples were sneaking off regularly. Or even casually,
without being in a relationship. "Alright. I want you to go down the hall and stay there. If we
don't come back out, you get teachers or more D.A. right away. I don't think we'll be long,
though."

"I want to go in," he growled, but stepped back when Harry sent him a quelling look, as if he
was actually afraid of the younger boy's growing anger. Perhaps he should have been, for
Harry's reputation ever since the Triwizard fiasco had been one of a highly competent wizard,
no matter the smear campaign of the previous year.

"No, you don't want to see what I expect. She'll need you, or at least need your help, but you
don't need to see it just yet. Go back, or we don't go in."

A part of Harry himself thought he was being too harsh with that command, but he'd mostly
intended it as a method of getting across just how serious he was. Reluctantly, with a huff, the
other boy grumbled, "Yeah, yeah. First sign though, Potter, the very first one."

"Good," the younger agreed, then glanced to the others, "Be ready for a fight. Don't forget
your target discipline- we don't want you hitting friendlies, or someone unarmed. But if a
wand gets pulled... take 'em down hard."

Michael Corner, Ernie MacMillan, Solinda Stone from Hufflepuff, a year down he thought,
Moira Davies, also in Hufflepuff, and Brandon Harris, a seventh year Ravenclaw, the team
leader for their group, gave him a resolute look, each one nodding in turn. "Let's go, Harry.
We're with you."

Harry nodded once, swallowed, and reached for the door handle, his wand already tapping it
as he incanted, "Finite Incantatum. Finite... clear."

There had been at least one charm on the door, he knew, for it had tingled the moment his
wand-tip touched it, but there was no reaction now. With a final moment to let his
companions prepare themselves for whatever they would see, Harry threw open the door and
strode in rapidly to clear the space, his wand held high, "Lumos!"

What he saw was somewhere between predictable, and utterly surprising.

Draco Malfoy was the predictable part. He'd suspected the boy was up to something all year.
Seeing the Dark Mark inked in blackness on his right forearm was not much of a shock,
either. I was right, he crowed inwardly.

Seeing the flax-haired boy with his dick buried inside a woman was a much bigger surprise.
The last he'd heard of Draco, he was nearly impotent, though Harry had thought he might
have been able to get it up for Mandy. The stains and odor of sex that littered the area around
his schoolyard nemesis implied that he was anything but, now. He had time to note a few
other details of the room: desks shoved to one side, a bed where the teacher's podium should
be, covered in the same stains. Dishes and old remnants of meals, a chamber pot, and a large
black cabinet he had definitely seen before.

"That's her," Brandon cried, "That's Isabella! Why's she- with Malfoy? What the hell?"

The sixth-year boy had been quite startled when Harry and his allies had burst into the room,
and spent several precious seconds staring at them. Unfortunately, Harry was just as stunned,
despite his preparations.

Malfoy's wand rose first, but it did not cast toward them. Instead, it flipped toward the
cabinet, which flew open with a bang. "Come on, whore!" he cried, yanking himself free and
dashing, still naked, toward it.

Harry's wand came up in what felt like slow motion, and two spells left it almost
simultaneously. One splashed off the Cabinet itself, a burst of green and gold, that did
nothing, and the other went wide. Then Draco was gone behind it, shielded from view as he
started to run in.

Much slower still, the girl stood up as the others' spellfire whirled around her, none hitting,
and dashed toward the Cabinet, too, her small breasts bouncing almost hypnotically.

Harry yelled out just one word, "Stop!"

Neither the spell-fire from the D.A. members nor the girl obeyed quickly enough, and a
moment later she was gone, too.

Just as he reached it, hands outstretched to grab the doors, skidding on the hardwood floor as
his angle changed to aim inside, Harry watched as the doors moved, slamming shut with
incredible force.

Within the cabinet, there was a soft click, and then a hum, which fell silent as the group
caught up to him. "Fuck!" Harry yelled, smashing a fist into the door hard enough to break
skin. It did nothing to the enchanted wood, however.

Several spells, including multiple casts of Finite Incantatum, blasted into the Cabinet a
moment later as the others realized what he already had. Draco was gone... and so was the
girl they had come to rescue.

They had failed.

As Harry's glowering eyes raised from the black, gold-inlaid wood, they met those of Edgar.
"I'm sorry," he forced out, sounding hoarse. "She's gone. She- she went after him."

"What?" Edgar asked quietly, sounding quite confused.

"Imperius," Ernie Macmillan replied, "I remember how it looked from Fourth Year, with
Moody- the fake Moody. Her eyes were all... cloudy. She ran after him, Ed."

"Shit," the older boy said, wiping a hand over his face in a gesture that reminded Harry a bit
of Dumbledore. "Shit, shit... where does it go? It's a Vanishing Cabinet, right? Not too many
of those left around."

"Only one I know of," Brandon supplied after a moment, "Knockturn Alley. My Da' says he
saw one in there once, in Borkin and Hurk's, or somethin'."

"Borgin and Burke's," Harry corrected absentmindedly, remembering the broken cabinet from
his own misfortune-ridden trip before his second year. "I've seen it there, too. Don't ask. We
know where to send Dumbledore."

"But they'll be gone before we can get there," Michael pointed out, "Even if he can't Apparate
yet, the girl's a Seventh-year, right? She can probably Side-Along."
"Yeah, she can," Edgar muttered, and all hope seemed to leave him. "I... why was she... why's
it smell like that?"

Harry knew exactly why. Just as he'd done with Mandy Brocklehurst, Draco was using her
for sex. A part of him had thought it was just Crabbe and Goyle that were doing the actual
work there, but apparently not. "Don't think about it too much, Ed," he said quietly, "You
know it's not by choice. The Imperius Curse is tough."

Edgar nodded, looking morose, then turned and slowly shuffled from the room. "You guys
head out, too. Don't let anyone else in here, don't let anyone touch anything. Nothing at all.
Not until either Dumbledore or Madam Bones is here. Understand?"

The others nodded as they followed him out, taking up positions flanking the door, two on
each side and two across the hall, standing and fidgeting nervously. "I'm going to get
Dumbledore here as soon as I can. Just let me be."

The others nodded, leaving Harry to slump tiredly against the closed door as his eyes closed.
"Lilith, I need you to go to Dumbledore right now. Tell him I need him as quickly as he can
get here. Fourth floor, South Hall... classroom fifteen, just outside. Then you'll want to get
Madam Pomfrey to give Edgar Wallpole something for nightmares, probably. Isabella was
taken by Draco Malfoy, and I'm not the only witness this time. See if he'll bring vials for
memories."

"On it, Master. I'll be in his office in... two minutes. I'll need to recharge today or tomorrow,
phasing through that many walls is tiring."

"Got it. Thank you, Lilith. You're a godsend."

"God didn't send for me, you did, Master," she reminded him, a twinkle of almost sad
laughter finishing the thought as the mental connection closed.

"Dumbledore's on his way," Harry murmured, not bothering to open his eyes.

For three minutes, the others began whispering about what strange powers Harry must
possess, heedless of talking literally around him, to be able to summon the Headmaster
without so much as uttering an incantation, before the aged wizard himself appeared in a
flash of flame, his arm raised high with a certain Phoenix attached to it firmly. "Thank you,
my friend," he said, voice old and just as tired as Harry felt, "Now, please go and deliver the
message to Poppy. Thank you."

Looking into the Headmaster's clear blue eyes reminded Harry once more of how old
Dumbledore truly was, and for the first time, he empathized very strongly with his sense of
responsibility. It was... exhausting, being the one in charge of other's safety and happiness.
He had never felt that more than at that exact moment, after a failure of such magnitude.

"Tell me what has happened, please," Dumbledore said quietly, not only to Harry, but to the
whole group, most of whom were too awed to be speaking to him directly.
He barely had to say a word, for which Harry was grateful, before Dumbledore asked to be
shown inside. Harry did so, and the others once more stayed in the hallway as he and the
wizened man entered the room once more. The air still tingled with pent-up energy and the
smell of sex, but Dumbledore did not seem perturbed. Harry, for his part, was finding it
uncomfortably homey, as it was a smell that lingered strongly in his loaned chambers these
days.

He did not want to associate that sort of comfort with Malfoy.

Dumbledore's old wand, long and slender with its three strange bulbs, came out of his sleeve
slowly, and it moved through the air with equal speed, smoothly, gracefully, in a way that
almost made Harry burn with envy were he not so impressed with Dumbledore's knowledge
and breadth of magic. It took about five minutes before the entire scene was playing out in
real time, from a few minutes before Harry opened the door, to after he'd chivvied everyone
out and told them he would send for the Headmaster. Then Dumbledore sighed, shaking his
long hair as he strode over to the Cabinet itself, and cast more spells with whispered
incantations and a look of intense concentration over it.

"This was a means to assassinate me," Dumbledore eventually said into the quiet room,
startling Harry, who had been concentrating on what the Headmaster was doing, instead.
"Young Mr. Malfoy has been given a mission by his master this year, you see, to do just that.
He was... oddly reluctant. I suspect that he will be less so in the future, and I fear for Miss
Ross' health where he is going, but there is, unfortunately, little I can do. You know where the
other end is."

Harry nodded, and repeated the shop's name.

Dumbledore nodded too, "Just so. Which means that, for the time being, Mr. Malfoy and
Miss Ross are beyond our reach. Mr. Borgin is... a reluctant follower of Voldemort, but a
follower nonetheless. They are already gone from there, I am certain of it. Yet there is hope."

"I don't see it, frankly, sir," Harry said quietly, slumping onto a chair and putting his chin in
his hands.

Dumbledore continued looking not at him, but at the Cabinet as he slowly walked around it,
his wand still moving idly, "For one, when the Death Eaters use this as a means to enter the
school, they will soon find themselves in a bit of a pickle. Many spells are hard to cast
underwater, and the Merpeople under the lake are most happy to store items safely for me for
a time. They particularly dislike Wizards who attempt to hurt them with magic. I believe my
old friend Murkus will be happy to protect both our people and her own, don't you?"

Harry snorted. Drowning- it was impossible to cast a Bubble-head Charm while already
underwater, as it needed a verbal component and could not be cast entirely silently- was a
terrible way to go, and the Merpeople would likely be very happy to finish the job if that
didn't work. "What about Apparition though, sir?"

"Ah, they will still appear within the Grounds, you see," Dumbledore said with an almost
cruel smirk as he glanced at Harry. "There is more, of course, that we can do. They will not
try to come through tonight, they will wait a few days to be sure I am not watching. I will
replicate the Cabinet for now, without a linked one, so that any spies who know it is here will
believe we have left it in place.

"As well, Mr. Malfoy's reluctance to take on this mission, despite it being offered entirely as
a means of restoring his family to his master's good graces, bodes ill for Voldemort's entire
agenda. If his 'most loyal' friends and allies are treated as harshly as I have heard they are
lately, then what is to stop him from doing so to the next Death Eater who has a minor
setback?

"And let us not forget, Harry, that he is still unaware of your new ally. Young Miss Lilith-
forgive me, Miss Sendai- may be the key to returning Isabella to us sooner rather than later.
May I... borrow her, for a day or two?"

The thought of the Headmaster 'making use' of his Succubus filled Harry with a sort of
strange nausea, but he strongly suspected that unless she assumed a male appearance, he
wouldn't want to do so in that way, so Harry shrugged, "If she doesn't mind, of course."

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed, as if that was a given. "I have a few ideas. I take it you and
your friends have been searching the castle thoroughly?"

Harry nodded, not seeing the need to hide it.

"Excellent. Please urge them to be careful, and if you come across Miss Frobisher or her
kidnapper, please be careful, and seek out aid from the staff as quickly as possible."

"Of course, Sir," Harry said with a deferential nod.

"Then I shall bid you good evening. I must alert Madam Bones and Miss Ross' parents as to
the change in situation. I will be discrete about your aid, unless you wish otherwise...?"

"No, please don't tell them it was me," Harry said at once, sudden panic in his voice. He
didn't want the credit. All they'd done was make Isabella harder to find, and gotten proof it
was Draco. That wasn't helpful at all, not really.

Midnight came and went, and no other news arrived until the last of the searchers had gone to
bed. They would try it again the next weekend, as Hermione had suggested, with new teams
and new areas to search, or at least switched-up ones. They would keep trying. There was no
giving up, because losing anyone, especially one of Ginny's friends, was not an option. They
had to find her.

No one wanted to admit that they'd been so close to rescuing Isabella Ross and then losing
her, too.

Especially not Harry, who had gone to bed alone for the first time in half a year or more.

Which left Hermione, Ron, and Ginny in the common room of the suite at nearly one in the
morning. Lyra had gone to 'make her rounds', gathering sustenance and supplies for her home
dimension from the castle's increasingly horny populace. The oldest of the three was already
pouring over her lists of people and maps of the castle, charting out the optimal way to search
the area from top to bottom once more.

Ginny and Ron had finished their homework, and were deeply involved in a late-night game
of Wizard's Chess that, for once, Ron was losing.

"That's cheating," he muttered as Ginny loosened her blouse another button and leaned
forward while her brother contemplated his next move. His Queen was at risk, and she was...
teasing him!

And it was working, he could barely think about the game, even with his best friend and lover
right there, and...

Hermione snorted, looking up from her papers to glance at the board, then rolled her eyes,
"Oh, just suck his cock and get it over with, slut."

Both of the Weasley siblings looked up at her, mouths dropping open in shock. Hermione
huffed, dropped the quill she was holding into its holder, then looked over at them, "You two
have been giving each other looks for weeks, and I watched you do it, remember? I know
Ron will get his dick wet in anything remotely sexy, and Ginny's a kinky slut. So just get it
over with, you don't have to hold back on my account."

"Yeah, but-" Ron murmured, "I mean... I was just, uh, waiting for... for you."

"Well I'm too tired tonight, as much as I'd like a good cum," Hermione replied, rubbing her
eyes, "so if you want a blow-job Ginny will have to do it. Besides, I can see her salivating
from here."

The brother and sister shared a look, and Ron had to acknowledge his girlfriend was right.
His sister was literally drooling, almost panting now, her eyes strangely dilated. Her nipples,
visible beneath her white blouse as she wore no bra these days, were already hard little nubs.
"I guess you'd better put your mouth to use then, Gin," he growled after a moment, standing
up just long enough to drop his trousers to his ankles and sit back down with his legs open,
not bothering to kick out of even one leg.

Ginny didn't say anything, but she stood up and used a leg to push her chair back, then pulled
the coffee table they had been playing across a bit further away from him before stepping
around the side and going to her knees. "I... want to," she whispered, looking up at Ron, "I
like having your long, hard dick in my mouth, Ron. I want to taste your cum. I want
Hermione to watch me suck you off."

"Do it, then, Gin-Gin," he said quietly, "I want to see what you look like with a mouthful of
my jizz."

Hermione grinned slightly, standing herself as the younger girl reached out a pair of almost
dainty but well-calloused hands to cup her brother's hairy sack and grip his long shaft,
kneading the first gently and giving the other a long, slow stroke. She sat down next to him
on the loveseat, facing the siblings with one knee bent beneath her, and hiked up her skirt.
She, like Ginny, rarely wore knickers anymore. They just got in the way. She didn't touch
herself, not yet, but wanted them both to know she could with a moment's notice.

They both sent her a look, as if questioning her intentions, but Hermione only looked back at
each of them evenly in turn.

Taking her silence and coming over to watch as the permission it was, Ginny eventually
leaned in from the side, her tongue extended, to lap at the top of Ron's balls, tugging on the
soft, hanging flesh to make his nuts jiggle in her hands, jumping up and down off her palm
while her other hand stroked back downward at an agonizing, snail-like pace. Ron groaned,
his hips shifting to give her more access, and his right hand went to Ginny's open collar,
fiddling with it, rolling it in his fingers.

His sister didn't take the cue, and left it on but wide open but for the last two buttons, and
instead finished covering his scrotum with her tongue before lapping at the testicles
themselves, rolling each one around on her long tongue before sucking them gently into her
mouth.

Hermione's grin had faded, but her body was filled with a rising level of lust. She would be
touching herself soon, but for now, she would relax and enjoy the show. She wanted them to
do it... wanted them, her best friends and lovers, to debase themselves for her. To engage in
secret perversions... to be like her. To want to shag each other.

Somehow, if they did it, it would be okay for her to engage in the same behavior... right?

"That's it," she whispered as Ginny let his second testicle pop from her mouth, "Lick his dick,
get him all nice and wet for your mouth, Ginny..."

The long tongue snaked back and forth, tracing a wave-form over her brother's dick as it
moved inexorably upward, the frequency unchanging as it stroked left and right, then circled
Ron's deep purple head, swollen and engorged further than Hermione could remember seeing
it, again and again before her still-pumping hand pulled him down toward her chest, and she
kept going, now licking the more sensitive, less-often touched back of the shaft with the same
side-to-side motion. "Fuck," Ron moaned, his head falling back, "You're such a tease, you
slag..."

"You love it, Big Brother," Ginny whispered around her tongue.

He grunted as she reached his base, her fingers and palm sliding now along just the underside
since her chin interfered with a regular stroke, and the hand that had been on Ginny's collar
moved up to her lips. His thumb slid past into her mouth, giving it a tug from the side, and
she whimpered, her own eyes closing in growing passion as she let the bottom of her tongue
drag up the long cock. "You wanf me to puff if inf mah mouff?" she asked around his thumb,
sitting back on her haunches, Hermione all but forgotten as she looked up her brother's
hungry eyes. His cock twitched in her hand, and Ginny grinned, pulling away and out of his
reach so his hand was free to join hers on his dick, covering and guiding her as she jerked
him off slowly. "You have to do something for me, then, Ron."
"Whassat?" he slurred, eyes locked on the V of flesh he could see still beneath her blouse, the
same one she'd been using to actually beat him at chess a few minutes before.

"You have to eat my cunt until I beg you to make me cum," Ginny whispered, "Like a good
boy does to the girl he's shagging."

Hermione could tell it was the first time either had used that word, shagging, in reference to
the other, for it sent a thrill through both their bodies that made them shiver. Circe, yes, I
want to see that, she thought half-deliriously, I want to see Ron's long cock spearing his
sister's tight pussy while I ride his face, and swap Harry's cum with our mouths. Oh, that-
that's so good, yeah...

The image had been enough to coax Hermione into letting a hand fall across her clit, slapping
it lightly as it came down. At once, her palm started pressing it into her body and moving in
tiny little half-circles, mooning back and forth while two fingers at once delved into her
sopping channel. Meanwhile, Ginny stood up once more and pushed her school skirt to her
ankles, stepping out of it, then up onto the couch and planted a foot on either side of her
brother's hips. She then leaned over, using one hand on the couch and the other in his bright
orange hair to guide his mouth between her legs. "Yes, that's it, brother, lick me so good.
Hnmm... that's so good, Ron..."

Hermione's hands started moving faster, actually masturbating in earnest as her boyfriend's
skilled tongue- as good as Harry's, if less practiced- stroked up and down his little sister's
folds in turn, sliding through one valley, then the other, moving back and forth from the
inside to the outside at random, switching to left and right without warning.

Then she moaned, her hips bucking against Ron's face as his tongue, nearly as long as her
own and a lot thicker, shot out and straight up. "Oh! Oh, Merlin! It's- my brother's in me! My
brother's tongue is inside my body!"

Hermione nearly climaxed right there, but not quite. Instead, she had her first one when Ron
pulled away, looking over at her instead with his face glistening with his sister's fluids. "Do
you like that, Hermione? Watching me go down on her?"

"So much," she whispered, "You can eat that little pussy all night. Doesn't she taste
delicious?"

Ron, for his part, had to agree. "Like apple pie. My favorite."

Ginny, still standing above him though her legs were shaking now, whispered, "My pussy is
my brother's favorite," then shoved her pelvis against his face again.

But Ron backed off, grinning, and stopped wanking for a moment to slide his hands up her
slender, pale and freckled legs, "Ah, ah. I said I'd eat you, but I didn't say it'd be your way,
slag. Beg for it. Beg for my tongue on you."

Hermione could not stifle a grin. Ginny didn't mind being told what to do by Harry, or even
Lyra. In fact, she reveled in being Harry's 'Pet', and loved submitting to him. But her older
brother? Not so much. The glare she sent him would have made a lesser man quiver in fear
and rescind the command at once.

But her boyfriend only looked up, his hands circling her thighs, and didn't say a word.

"Please," Ginny whispered, thrusting toward him again, but not quite connecting as he moved
his head back almost leisurely. "Please, Ron... please eat my pussy. I wanna cum. I want you
to make me cum with your tongue."

"You said I gotta earn it? Well... so do you. Get down."

Hermione's eyes widened. Did he mean... that?

But no. Ginny seemed to understand, for she hopped off the couch almost eagerly. The
moment her dainty little feet, still clad in the school's uniform stockings, hit the floor he
twisted on the couch, putting his head on Hermione's bent legs, and reached for his sister.

Ginny grinned, throwing a leg over him, nearly clipping the older girl in the process, and
gave her rump a little shake in Hermione's face as if to show her, "This is the pussy he's
eating now, not yours. You had your chance."

Then she dropped down, situating herself with her breasts pressed against her brother's
stomach, and twisted her pelvis down. She was already sucking on him, one hand pumping
his base with two fingers around it, the other kneading his sack again as far as Hermione
could tell through her head, and bobbing along the rest with her throat and mouth in equal
measure. He must be at least seven inches inside her, Hermione's mind told her, running
calculations comparing her lover's length and the depth of his sister's head and throat without
conscious thought.

Ron, for his part, looked upward at Hermione and grinned, giving a pointed look to Ginny's
pink, dripping petals, then reaching up with both hands to pull her arse cheeks apart before
saying, "If you want a piece, I'll share," then lifting his head from her leg to take another
long, slow lick, thrusting his tongue inside and bobbing himself after he finished.

"Fuck her pussy with your tongue, Ron," Hermione moaned, "Make your sister cum on your
face."

A snort to Hermione's left made her look over to find Harry, still looking emotionally spent
but slowly stroking his own erection, as he watched the others from his bedroom door. He did
not make any motion to join them, but crossed half the room to get a better view of Ginny
swallowing Ron's dick for a minute or so, then circled it again to look at her other end. Ginny
came first, gushing outward to splatter against Hermione's own genitals, drenching Ron's face
and hair, but he did not relent, still lashing at her with his tongue even as his own hips began
bucking and thrusting into Ginny's throat, deeper and harder than before.

Hermione climaxed only after Ron's motions had dropped off on both sides, and the two
siblings still lay there, Ginny on top still, panting.
Only after Harry stepped forward and ordered his Pet to do something did she realized Ginny
still had Ron's dick in her mouth. "Don't swallow it, Pet. Hold it. Hold your brother's nasty
cum in your slutty mouth until I tell you you can swallow it. Ron, I want you to keep tasting
your sister's juices."

Both had jumped the moment Harry spoke, neither having realized he was there, but soon
they were sitting on the couch next to Hermione, who was still diddling herself slowly, red-
faced.

"You know I like it when you make each other feel good," Harry told them sternly, "but damn
it, next time I don't want to walk in when you're about done. Warn me so I can watch. Shit."

The siblings shared a confused, somewhat lost look, and Ron murmured, "S- Sorry, mate.
We, kinda thought you, uh, wanted to be left alone today. You... well, this whole thing's
hitting you pretty hard."

"I know," Harry said, suddenly sounding and looking truly exhausted as he slumped a bit, but
didn't stop pumping his massive member, "but I've been trying to get you guys to do that in
front of Hermione for weeks, and now I missed half the show. Whatever, I guess... hope you
guys had fun. Good night."

"Wait, Harry," Hermione called, "Do you- want us to take care of you? I will!"

"No, it's fine," he replied over his shoulder, "I really am tired. I think maybe I just caught
your lust, like Lilith or something, and it woke me u- up."

The last was said through a sudden yawn..

The last thing he said before closing his bedroom door again was, "Oh, Ginny, you have to
share with Hermione before you can swallow."

The bookish girl looked at her best friend in surprise and pleasure as Ginny hopped up at
once, passed her brother's still-bare legs, and slid onto Hermione's lap, straddling her. Then
she grabbed her head and brought her in for a searing kiss, her tongue practically shoveling
Ron's semen and her saliva into Hermione's mouth.

After several minutes, Ginny murmured, "Now I'm going to bed, too. I better sleep in the
dorms tonight. I'm sure everyone will be worried since Vicky's been gone so long and I don't
sleep there often."

"Er, you might wanna get some clothes first," Ron reminded her as her hand hit the door.

Ginny glanced down her body, then at the clock, and shrugged, "Nah, no one's up. Who cares,
anyway?"

Then she was gone, her clothing still on the floor, her brother rock-hard once more, and
Hermione now more awake than she had been in at least an hour. She wasted no time in
spinning herself, mirroring Ginny's former position, and then kissing her boyfriend, giving
him a little taste of himself too, even while she sank onto his erection with a pleased sigh.
But as much as Harry wanted to sleep, he could not. He rarely needed to after all, not
anymore. So he was left there to stew, idly masturbating to the image of the Weasleys, his
girlfriend and best friend, sixty-nining on his couch, and wonder what he could have done
differently to stop Malfoy from getting away.

Wrack his brain as he might, Harry could think of nothing except not miss with either of his
spells. A year or two before, that might have been enough to send him into a spiral of self-
recrimination. Now, he felt he was mature enough to realize that any confrontation is rife
with unpredictability, and that even the best can be overcome by circumstance.

Was that not what Voldemort had claimed was the cause of Harry's survival up until after the
Third Task of the Triwizard? Luck, chance, circumstance?

If a wizard as skilled, knowledgeable, and powerful as Voldemort was could be brought low
by such things, could use them as a public reason for failure, then what was the shame in
admitting that he, Harry, could be done in by the same things? He was only human, after all.
More or less. It was... unfair, to expect himself to be better than everyone else. Unreasonable.

That realization helped, but did not fully dull his anger.

Thus, when Lyra slipped into the room nearly two hours later, an hour before sunrise, he was
still wide awake. She used a long, thin finger to idly scoop the leavings of the only boy she'd
actually sucked off that night off her cheek and into her mouth with some relish before
absorbing it fully, as her body shifted from Lyra's into the same slender, beautiful red-haired
woman that she had used to bring him comfort several times before. "Hello, son," the visage
of Lily Potter said quietly, "I've missed you."

He looked up suddenly, dark circles under his eyes, which were red and filled with unshed
tears despite actively stroking an erection still. "M- Mom? No... you're Lilith. Hi."

But she stepped forward, putting her hands gently on his shoulders as he moved to sit up on
the edge of the bed, "Today, I am Lily Potter," she cooed, then brought his head forward to
rest against her flat stomach. "I am here to help my son. It's okay, Harry. Mommy is here, and
she loves you. You didn't do anything wrong, you did everything right."

"It still hurts," he whispered, his hands moving up to circle her waist and pull her a bit closer,
then tucking his head against her more comfortably.

"I know," she replied just as softly, moving to run her hands through his messy, raven hair. "It
will, for a while, but time heals all wounds. Spending time with those you love will help, as it
always does."

Lilith was overjoyed. She loved giving Harry advice, of course, loved helping him in any
way. Not because of the Contract, but because he was her friend, and increasingly, was
growing to love him, too, as more than just that. But this, this comforting position she found
herself in once more, felt strangely real, like she belonged there, in that moment, to hold and
help her son through difficulties that no one else, not even his father, could.
But she wasn't his mother, not really. She was a Succubus.

Yet, Lilith felt that some part of Lily might have been guiding and helping her. Maybe it was
just the memories of her, the precious few, that she could glean from her Master's mind.
Maybe it was the woman herself, come from beyond the grave to do what she could. Lilith
did not know. But she knew her Master needed his mother, and so that is what he got.

She gave herself over completely, letting whatever happened happen, consciously and fully.

After her cute little dress was soaked with his tears, Harry eventually pulled away, wiping his
eyes, and looked up at her for a a few seconds and wiped them again. "Thanks," he said
hoarsely, "I needed that, Lilith."

"I'm not Lilith right now," she heard herself saying, "I am Lily Potter. And I want my son to
be happy. Can you smile for me, my precious boy?"

He tried, he really did, but it was a wane, small thing.

"That's it, darling," Lily said quietly, then pushed him down, guiding him back to the bed,
"Lie down, I'm here. Come on, scooch up."

He slid over awkwardly, but still blushed as Lily's dress disappeared, and he was presented
with his mother's form, entirely nude, for the first time since he'd recognized the woman's
appearance. She slid up next to him still, propping herself on on elbow, and asked quietly,
"What? My boy wants mommy to be uncomfortable?"

"Er, n- no," he stammered, "It's just..."

"Hermione shagged Daddy," Lily reminded him quietly, "And Ron and Ginny will shag
before the year's end, I'm certain. But Harry can't have his, too?"

"Harry gets plenty," he shot right back, one mouth quirking upward. He was honestly very
tired, but knew that sleep was a long way off, possibly days, yet. And he was always ready
for sex, no matter what he might tell the others. "I... I never thought about doing that with
you, though... mom."

"Oh?" Lily looked genuinely surprised, "That's funny, because Mommy thinks about her
boy's cock all the time. It's really big, you know, even bigger than Daddy's. I bet it'd feel
really good."

Harry shook his head, his expression changing from bemused amusement mingled with lust
to serious for a moment, "Lily... Lilith. Are you serious about this? You want me to shag you
as my mother?"

She nodded once, coyly, and put a finger to her lower lip in that way she knew drove men
wild.

"If I didn't know you were Lilith, I'd hesitate," Harry growled, then snaked a hand beneath
her and pulled her torso closer. His lips seized on one of her fat nipples at once, suckling at it
as he must have done as a child, mouthing and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand
slithered down her flat stomach to rest beneath and between her legs. One rose to give him
room, while her hand reached to touch his throbbing erection, finger-walking up and down a
few times before stroking it with a long, deep, but light touch. That didn't last long.

Soon, she was over him, their mouths entangled, her hair draping his face, and Lily was
reaching between them to guide him upward, not that he needed it. Harry's cock was already
at her entrance, pulsing and pounding for entry, as if it was dying to return to where it was
created. "That's it, my love, my boy," she whispered, "make Mommy full..."

Harry's hand on her breast felt exquisite, and his other on her rump, holding her steady as he
drove home to the very bottom of her depths and beyond made Lily Potter squeal in sudden
ecstasy as her body, unused to such penetration, at first rejected the invader and then tried to
suck him in deeper still.

"That's it, Harry, fuck Mommy good..."

Harry stroked a few times, then threw both hands around her waist and heaved, hauling both
upright with prodigious strength, then kept going until he was over her, instead. Then his
arms moved to her ankles, lifting both to land near her head, his cock still buried balls-deep.
"You want me to fuck you, Mommy? Okay, I will... but Daddy will be lonely, he'll never
satisfy you again!"

The part of her that might as well have been Lily Potter wanted to protest, that she loved
James Potter. That part was quickly silenced as her son's great penis left her body almost
completely, then hammered downward, smashing her entire form into the mattress. And
again, and again, and harder, faster. He was filling her so completely, breaking past the walls
of her cervix and into her womb with every single thrust, taking out his frustration, his rage,
his anger with the world as it was right now, all on his poor mother's abused little pussy.

And she loved it.

Harry did not make it to classes that day, and Lilith, even as herself, could not recall how
many times he'd made his mother climax with the needy, sexual ravishment, but it was one of
the better nights of her life thus far on Earth. But even she was walking a bit funny the next
day.
 Payback
Chapter Summary

Trigger Warnings: Genderbending!

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 90 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Repeat on the TRIGGER WARNINGS: Genderbending (Harry > Iris) in this chapter again.
It's smuttier than last time.

Chap. 55: Payback

Classes resumed, and the D.A. had searched the castle from top to bottom twice, but they had
seen hide nor hair of Vicky Frobisher. Word had gone out through Dumbledore, the
Headmaster had assured Harry through a Phoenix-delivered note, to the Order of the Phoenix
to be on the lookout for Draco and Isabella, but frankly, neither Harry nor the other members
of his little group held out much hope they would get a glimpse of them before it was too
late.

"But," Dumbledore explained to Harry and Lyra at the end of another lesson into the mind
and talents of Voldemort, "that does not mean we have given up hope. I have set the
Vanishing Cabinet in a most precarious position, and any Death Eaters unfortunate enough to
step through it will... shall we say, not appreciate what happens next. No, Miss Sendai, it is
not instantly lethal. They will be contained, however, until such time as I come to claim them,
unless they put up a fight. If a student should happen to come through, well... they will
simply arrive here, in front of my desk, without their wands. I believe I can handle it should
that situation actually occur."
"That's fine," Harry told the old wizard after what he'd finished explaining sank in, "that
doesn't cover Vicky Frobisher. Are you sure she is still in the Castle?"

"No," Dumbledore said with a long, low sigh, gesturing at a rune-covered keystone sitting on
one of the many shelves filled with strange, mystical artifacts, "the student detection spells
are not perfect. They did not register Miss Ross leaving, for example, nor Mr. Malfoy. They
are both gone, but normally when a student passes through the protections at the edge of the
grounds, I am alerted."

Harry looked down sheepishly, his face darkening just a little as the Headmaster's twinkling
blue eyes settled on him. There was no accusation, however, and he was honestly beyond the
point of caring too much what anyone thought of him. Not even a wizard he respected and
looked up to. So he forced himself to look up again, "And is Vicky here? You said you can
tell Malfoy and Ross are 'not here', right?"

"Yes, but that sort of magic takes time to change. She may have been removed within the
last... oh, twenty-four hours or so, and I may not be able to tell. But I believe she is still here,
somewhere. It would not be easy to circumvent the detection spells for long, I think."

"The problem is that Hogwarts' grounds are just chock-full of hidden nooks, hidey-holes,
crannies, and other places deliberately made to hide things," Lyra muttered darkly.

Harry thought she looked rather cute when annoyed, as the half-asian features curled into a
scowl at the bottom of Dumbledore's ancient, large desk, but thought it might be impolite to
say so just then.

Dumbledore, for his part, nodded, "Just so. At any rate, if another student goes missing, it
may be necessary to temporarily close the school. For a few days only, Harry, you need not
worry. Having fewer magical presences within the grounds would make it far easier to... flush
out our quarry. The problem with doing so, however..."

"You tell whoever has her that you're looking for them, and seriously."

"I would think they already know that," Dumbledore almost sniffed as if offended, "but yes,
that is it in essence. Now... on to another matter. Miss Sendai, you told me once that your
connection with Harry here is stronger than what he shares with Voldemort."

Lyra nodded, perking up a little, and lapsed into her more traditional manner of speaking for
a bit, "Yep. A lot stronger, actually! Master's Bond with me is as strong as any I've ever heard
of."

To Harry's surprise, the old wizard looked seriously back and forth between them once, then
leaned in to rest his chin on his knuckles as they curled together. "Would either of you be
interested in exploring how we might... use that connection against Voldemort?"

"I already am," Lyra answered casually, "As soon as I sussed out what that little bit of magic
in his scar was, I started sending him- your Voldy- well, feelings. My kind of feelings."
Dumbledore actually looked truly surprised for a moment, which Harry was a bit shocked to
see himself, but that turned to full-on amazement as, a moment later, the ancient Headmaster
burst into full-on guffaws, gales of mirth-filled, ringing laughter that made Fawkes and the
Sorting Hat both ruffle either feathers or cloth.

"Oh, oh my, oh dear," Dumbledore continued to try and speak through the chuckles a full
minute later, both hands holding his sides, "That explains a great deal! A very great deal!"

"Explains... what, exactly, sir?" Harry asked, quite confused. He'd been getting the strangest
feeling that Lilith was doing something like that, but he could sense not a whit of it from
Voldemort himself. No dreams, no pain in his scar, nothing like that, and hadn't since she'd
first sealed the Contract with him.

"I do not know the full picture, of course, but it seems that our Dark Lord has recently
become rather obsessed with something he claimed to have set aside in his seventh year as
'beneath him'. Rutting like an animal, he told me privately when one of his classmates
accused him of fondling her inappropriately- he did not do so, strangely enough, but one of
his dorm mates had- was 'disgusting', and he hadn't done it since he was sixteen."

Harry shuddered. Even as attractive, objectively, as the shade of Voldemort at that age had
been, he did not want to think about the literal, prophesied bane of his existence in that way.
Not at all.

"Yet, even in his ritual-altered form, having set aside so much of his humanity... now he
cannot get enough? That it is actually distracting him? Oh, the irony... A master-stroke, Miss
Sendai, truly."

"Well, in his defense," she demurred, actually blushing a little herself, "he was not prepared
to have roughly the same level of... let's say 'arousal' as Harry on any given day. He's gotten a
bit better at controlling it, lately."

Dumbledore sobered slightly, but maintained a definite grin behind his bushy white beard as
he nodded, "Just so. I worry for the fate of some of his Death Eaters and their allies, given his
recent... change in behavior, and I have confirmed through my own sources that some of
them are being... passed around. Not unlike what your circle of friends do, Harry, only with
decidedly less consent. While unfortunate, there is little we can do about that. It is something
our opponent has done to his own forces, and to their detriment, I fear. While witches and
wizards are equal in every way that matter, I fear that soon the Death Eaters will lose ranks to
pregnancy if nothing else."

Lilith shrugged, and Harry grinned, "Maybe, but like you said, Sir- it's their fault."

"True. Now, I had hoped to strategize a little, but what exactly can we do to continue this,
Miss Sendai? Or enhance the effects?"

"Not much, anymore," she admitted, "Master's Bond is nearly complete, it isn't going to get
much stronger. He will, but I can only send so much emotion through their connection. It
wasn't exactly built for that, and I could only take control of what was there."
"Hmm... the soul shard is intact?"

"No," Lyra chuckled darkly, and Harry shuddered. She looked over at him pointedly, "Harry,
I didn't honestly think it worth mentioning, but you still carry a bit of him in you. Well,
buried inside your style of Runes inside the scar. I suppose it acts as an 'object' to hold
something like a Horcrux, but it's sloppy. Malformed. Effective, though. It's how you have a
connection in the first place."

"Including Parseltongue, a gift I believe you inherited from Voldemort," Dumbledore said
quietly, "I am sorry I did not inform you, Harry. It honestly slipped from my mind during our
first discussion of the year, and after the incident at the Ministry, you seemed rather occupied
with other matters."

Harry frowned. He didn't like it, he really didn't, but if what they were saying was true, he'd
had that piece of Voldemort's soul in him for the vast majority of his life. Now, it did not hurt,
and it was actually a weapon of sorts against him. He would deal with it, for now. "So... what
state is it in, Lyra? You said it's not intact anymore."

"No, it's not at all how it was before," she actually giggled, "I broke it up, you see. The talents
and magic it carried have passed to you, Master. You are now a... what was the word, old
man? Parsel-tongue thing? You don't have the ability from him, anymore, it's yours. You got
stronger at magic, too, and a bit smarter. It wasn't all me."

"And the rest?" Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know, but while a year before he might have
been offended at the idea that a man like Voldemort was more intelligent than he was... it
wasn't worth arguing about. He was mature enough to admit that to himself, at least.

"It's still there, wrapped up in a delicious cocoon of sex, lust, desire, and love. It's in complete
and utter agony, I'm sure, as all that was left is the very worst parts of what a human can do."

"Anathema," Dumbledore murmured quietly, looking both astounded and pleased. "Much as
your mother's love protected you, Harry, he cannot bear to touch it. Your touch destroyed his
first reincarnation and Professor Quirrel both, if you recall. Now that shard is surrounded by
an even more potent version, if I am not mistaken, and yet it cannot... flee? Or be destroyed?"

"Nope. I locked it up well and good," Lyra giggled again, "And oh, I can tell you, it's not
happy. Can't do anything about it, though. If it did escape, somehow, there's not enough left
to be cohesive. It's literally just raw hatred and malevolence. Not even any magic really."

Harry could not help but grin. "That seems a fitting enough end for all the suffering it caused
me over the years."

"I'm glad you approve, Master," Lyra cooed, sending him a wink, "but there's still enough
there to affect ol' Voldy-pants. For now. Sooner or later he'll figure out what's happening and
block off the connection himself."

"Just so," Dumbledore agreed, "perhaps it is best that we do not act any further just yet. A
waiting game may seem like no action at all, but if it is already stymying his efforts, and so
well... would you agree, Harry? I do not want to draw more attention to the connection, you
see. It may cause him to figure out the weakness sooner."

"Right," the younger wizard murmured, "That's right. Let's let it go for now, but let's also
brainstorm how we can use it more actively. Maybe even... this summer?"

"An excellent plan, Harry, but may I suggest an earlier date? Such as the Yule Holidays? You
will have almost an entire month this year. And I was also hoping that we- the three of us, of
course- might go on a little adventure to hunt down a certain relic I had meant to obtain
earlier."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore grinned almost cruelly as he held up a hand for some reason, then pointed at an
unadorned finger, "A ring. A ring that I believe is buried at the home of one Morfin Gaunt,
before he passed on. You remember the story, I am sure, from our first private lesson this
year."

Harry's eyes widened. "You- you mean a Horcrux?"

"Just so, dear boy. I had been planning to claim and destroy it this summer, but your friend
here necessitated a change in plans as the staff and castle were forced to accommodate your
new lifestyle."

"Oh, um... sorry, Sir," Harry muttered sheepishly.

But Dumbledore only chuckled, "Think nothing of it, my boy. I well understand the foibles of
youth, though it has been a long time indeed since I felt them as you must. Now, to bed I
think. The hour grows late."

"Right. Good night, Sir."

"Good night, Harry, Miss Sendai."

Lyra gave him a wink and a wave as they turned to leave, eventually making their way back
down to the private quarters Dumbledore had just made at least partial reference to.

There, they found a rather quiet room, with both girls gone, and only Ron reading through an
old issue of Quidditch Through the Ages for probably the hundredth time.

"Girls in the dorms?"

Ron looked up, nodding, "Yeah. Your Slytherin- well, Greengrass, came by with a note, but
she didn't leave it. Didn't trust me not to read it, I guess. Said she'd be back tomorrow."

"Alright," Harry acknowledged, "I guess it's just us then, for the night. I don't wanna go back
up to the dorm."

"Okay," Ron shrugged, looking over the magazine, "Er... can I spend some time with... er...
Lilith? Not Lyra? Not that shagging Lyra isn't great, it's just..."
The Succubus looked at her Master for a moment, then grinned, "Well, I'm sure Master
doesn't mind sharing. But..."

The school clothing melted away first, giving both of the randy teenagers a delightful eyeful
for a few seconds before her form shifted into that of the barely-pubescent girl she'd first
appeared as to Harry. "But I want it to be like this. You don't mind, do you, Ron?"

"Er... I mean... a bit young, but... after the last few months? I don't care. I really don't. I just
want to get off."

But Harry wasn't quite done, and despite the hour being past eleven, he was more than ready
to play a little. Ron didn't need to sleep much, either, so he figured his plan would work
alright in the end. "Well, I want mine, too. Dungeon, Ron? You up for something new?"

The taller boy looked at him for a moment as he stood, dropping the worn book on the
cluttered coffee table, "Sure. What'd you have in mind? More of those weird sex toy things?"

"Just some light bondage," he told his best friend as he lead the way, shirt already in hand and
trousers dropping shortly after he passed the threshold.

The room, as always, smelled heavily of sex and desire, but Harry had more in mind than just
a quick romp. In fact, he wanted to draw things out, to take advantage of their Runes giving
them the stamina of... well, many more people. Or bears. Or horses.

And he was feeling more than a little adventurous himself. "Alright. You trust me, right,
Ron?"

"Er... yeah, 'course."

"Good. Incarcerous! Don't worry, this won't be for long. Lilith, can we rig him up on the
ceiling? Wait... let's use the X-bars. We haven't done much with those."

"Ooh, I like where this is going, Master," the petite Succubus said with a grin, easily
fluttering over as her wings appeared and hoisting the much larger form up with her little
arms under his, and not coincidentally rubbing her nearly flat chest in his face as she did so.
While he was hidden from view, Harry quickly morphed into Iris, who stretched languidly as
she appeared... with Harry's cock still attached to her, mounted above her clit, just as she'd
been when she first showed the form to the girls.

Lilith was already blindfolding Ron when she reached the corner of the room behind the
well-used bed, so he didn't get a glimpse of her, but he jumped when Iris stood up on her toes
to kiss him deeply.

"Harry! I-"

"I'm Iris," she whispered, "Harry's... sleeping."

As Lilith pulled away, the blindfold, black silk, tightly in place, she could see Ron's face
burning with heat. Something about kissing her, even though they'd had sex and been quite
intimate before, still seemed to bother him. But Iris didn't mind. In her eyes, Ron belonged to
Hermione just like Ginny and Lilith belonged to Harry. She could and did enjoy intimacy and
sex with him, but he didn't belong to her, like so many belonged to Harry. She even felt a
strange sort of jealousy at the knowledge that only one person did: Lilith herself.

"For now, Mistress," the Succubus whispered in her ear, then licked up the shell, making the
girl shudder in delight. "I feel as if there are more coming yet. We simply haven't found them,
yet. Or perhaps we have."

Then louder, Lilith turned to Ron, alighting on perfect little feet next to Iris, who stood a
good six inches taller, though she was hardly tall herself. Neither came up to Ron's shoulders
without standing on their toes. Iris watched with growing glee as Ron twisted in the bonds he
suddenly found himself in, stretched out across the large wooden X-frame with his wrists and
ankles bound, and blindfolded to boot. "Ron, can you see anything?"

"No," he growled, "thing's fuckin' charmed, too. Can't even see out the bottom!"

"Good," Lilith giggled, "this will just be so much sweeter. I know you're tied up, stud, so you
can't do any of the work... why don't you just relax, and let us treat you to something special."

The last word was said with just the right amount of sultry sex-appeal that it seemed truly
incongruous with her child's body, but it still made Iris' girl-cock twitch, just like Ron's did,
and she watched avidly as the long, slender member rose up, and up. She pressed herself
against him then in idle curiosity. He might've lost about two inches with his legs spread, but
the tip still pressed just about at the midpoint between her own perky breasts and her navel.
"You'd be so deep if we shagged standing up, Ron," she whispered, shifting her body against
his to give him just a little thrill as his erection was trapped between them.

He groaned when she backed away.

Lilith was holding two toys when she looked over at her, both from the long rack next to the
frame. One, a feather-tipped rod, and the other a leather strap almost like a shaving strop but
thinner, attached to the same kind of rod. She held each out to Iris, who grinned and went for
the feathers.

Then they started teasing, and hard.

Together, Lilith and Iris delivered the lightest of touches, for the most part, either one at a
time, rotating sides frequently, or together, running the musky, almost sticky leather or the
faintest of touches from the feather over Ron's skin, which quickly swelled with goosebumps,
or shivered reflexively, after each touch.

Soon, he was gasping, panting, his hips starting to buck wildly but in small, jerky motions,
more so after one of the girls slid their implement over him. But neither said a word,
communicating not even in their minds, but through a look, a glance.

Ron didn't say anything either, but he did let out several groans.

That is, until both of the implements were set aside and the girls pulled back to watch him
silently. Lilith's hands stroked Iris' girl-cock languidly while they waited. It didn't take long.
"Please," Ron whispered, "I... more... t- touch me more..."

"Where, Ron?" Iris asked, "Where do you want us to touch you?"

"Anywhere," he groaned desperately, "My dick! Please! I'm so hard!"

Iris turned around and looked over her shoulder, backing into him so that her pert little rump
just touched Ron's hanging scrotum, which dripped with sweat just like the rest of him. He
was really worked up! "Like this, Ron? Sorry, I'm short, I can't reach any higher... but just
think, if you could use your hands, you could point that thing down and run it up and down
between my little cheeks... or put it in my arse, like Hannah loves so much. Do you want to
fuck my little bum-hole, Ron?"

"Yes!" he roared suddenly, thrusting into the air hard enough to bounce his long member
against his stomach, where it rebounded to slap into Iris' lower back, too. "Please!"

"Hmm... I think I'd rather suck on it," she said casually, then turned and lowered her head.

"Ugh, Har-"

She bit him, just lightly, across the head, and pulled off. "I'm Iris, dummy," she reminded
him, "Harry doesn't like sucking dicks. He wouldn't do this for you."

"Or to you," Lilith giggled behind her, two hands falling on Iris' rear as the Succubus' long
tongue darted out to taste her nethers.

Iris was still rather inexperienced at oral sex, at least with boys, but she loved the smell of
Ron's desire and need as pre-cum fell onto her tongue with every swirl she gave his head.
Having him filling her lips was almost like a lollypop, only firm and hard from need rather
than sugar. Knowing how much he wanted her was... it was driving her wild. She started
bobbing faster, no longer fighting it as his tip brushed the back of her throat. She never would
be able to deep-throat him, she suspected, not again. Lilith was one thing, she was Iris' Pet.
They were one, in some ways. Ron was Hermione's. Hermione wanted Ron's cock in her
throat, not Iris'.

I need someone to fuck my face, she realized. Lilith can do it, but I want more. Hell, I can do
it myself, but the angle's really awkward. But for now... Merlin, he's getting close fast.

She felt his penis twitch once, hard, and yanked her body free just as a tiny little orgasm hit
her, brought about by Lilith's tiny tongue flicking her bud. Ron groaned, loudly, as his hips
pushed forward, seeking contact, any contact, again.

"Mm... I don't' think you've had enough, Ron," she murmured. "But you can imagine... just
imagine, Lilith's cute, sexy tongue circling my clit from beneath and behind... she's fingering
my arse, Ron. Getting it ready for more. For you, if you want..."

"Oh, Merlin," the ginger moaned, "That's... fuck..."

Truthfully, she'd only been teasing. Her bum had never had anything in it. She'd never had
anything come out of it as Iris, in fact.
But now...

Now she realized she did in fact want it. But she waited until Ron was starting to calm, just a
little, not enough to lose his erection- she doubted that would happen quickly with his Runes
and the lust he must be feeling- and then pulled away from Lilith's talented mouth to go get
one of the two stools the room provided and lay across it. "Shift me back, lover?"

"With pleasure," the Succubus grinned, easily pulling on the stool's leg enough to position her
Mistress before their captive. She was higher now, and Ron's long member wasn't touching...
but she took him in hand and pulled down. "Mm... you like my hand, I know Ron, but I'm not
getting you off today. That's Mistress' job. Feel that? Her arse is so cute! I could just slap it
all day... you want to make it red, I know. Leave your hand-print on her little tushy... but feel
this?"

He groaned as the tip of his head nestled into her little star, soft pink without any bacterial
growth there, not that he could see it. He felt Iris squirm against him, and then the pop as
Lilith pushed a little harder, and he slid inside, just the tip.

Iris squealed, almost pig-like, but he did not dare move. Iris' body was not motionless against
him, she squirmed even more, but Lilith's hand was strong enough to rip him clean off, and
he didn't dare buck just yet, no matter how much he wanted to drive in, to torture the girl's
arse for the torture she was giving him!

But no... he liked Iris. He wouldn't do that to her. Besides... This is kinda fun, he
acknowledged.

Then, with his cock-head buried in Iris' anus, he felt Lilith's tongue licking around his shaft,
up the long length from the base, to circle around the end where it joined with his best mate's-
er- female body.

"Lubed up and ready to go... a little late, Mistress, but I know what you wanted."

"Nnmm... yes... I know, lover... Ron?"

"Mm? Yeah, Iris?"

"Fill my cute little arse up with your dick, please."

"Fuckin' thought you'd never ask," he grunted, then thrust forward as far as he could go. Not
harsh, but steady, closing the distance in about five seconds.

He felt and heard the girl's body shift on the stool, heard it grind against the floor too, but Iris'
grunt was not one of pain. "Take- take the blindfold off," she murmured after he had driven
home, "Please, Lilith! I want him to see himself rutting on me! And- and set him free!"

"Your wish is my command, Mistress," the Succubus said casually, and a moment later he
had to blink in the normally dim room.

It was, indeed, Iris he was buried half-way in, her bum stretched just a little around him. Ron
knew he was not as thick as Harry, and nowhere near as large as Neville around, but his
length was more than even Dean, beaten only by Harry, who cheated.

There was probably no way she could ever take him all like this, but he wanted to try, damn
it! Ron lifted his hips to the slender little waist, and held her in position while he stepped
forward, then pushed in a little further.

Again, Iris gasped, "More," as her hands clutched at the opposite stool-legs, feeling beset by
need she was unaccustomed to.

He pulled out slowly, stroked in again, and then muttered, "If you fuckin' keep me from
cumming again, I'm gonna be pissed."

"I want it in me," Iris whimpered below him, "I want to feel it in my insides, Ron..."

Lilith fluttered into the air in front of Iris, an erection to rival her own, which Ron had not
even seen hanging through the stool, and pouted, "But what about me, Mistress?"

Ron goggled as the tiny girl he was spearing slowly lifted her head and must have opened her
mouth, for Lilith grinned and positioned herself at Iris' face, set her little hands on the other
girl's shoulders, and started humping, not too gently either.

The sort of sucking, smacking sounds Iris was suddenly making reminded him strongly of
Hermione as she was driven to a frenzy taking one cock after another in her mouth. Suddenly,
he could not hold back anymore. His grip on Iris' waist tightened, and he did deliver one very
hard, open-palm slap across her right buttock, before he started moving faster, harder, and a
little deeper in counterpoint to Lilith's motions.

It was a bit strange, he thought as he looked up to meet her eyes, seeing someone else with a
dick fucking the same girl he was.

It was different with Harry, and to a lesser extent Neville. This was... this was a girl with a
dick.

But even though it was a bit strange, he found he didn't really care. It was kind of hot, in a
way, in fact. Sort of like eating his sister's pussy while she sucked on him. Strange, forbidden,
exotic... wanton. The same sort of abandon he'd felt the night before when Ginny was going
down on him, and with Hermione's express permission no less, took over.

He suddenly wanted to see that Succubus dick pounding the shit out of Iris.

He wanted to climax desperately, too.

But...

He pulled out, just as he was starting to feel that ever-familiar rush once more.

Iris groaned around the Succubus' dick, and Lilith stopped too.

But Ron only grinned, shoved one hand beneath Iris' taut little tummy, and lifted her into the
air. She squealed, and louder as he settled her arse back onto his cock, pulling her down by
the shoulders and using gravity to assist him. "Oh, damn, it's so deep," he grunted, "You okay,
Iris?"

In his arms, supported by one arm around her belly and the other just moving beneath one
knee, she shuddered as he fully entered her from behind, clearly climaxing.

Far from looking put out, Lilith only flew up to the stool and settled on it with her legs
spread, and leaned in. That was the first time he saw the huge shaft sprouting from Iris' petite
body. For a moment, he felt the same sort of queasiness he'd felt the first time his and Harry's
penises had touched in Hermione's or Lilith's mouth- he couldn't remember now which was
first, but it passed quickly. In fact, it almost looked like she was sucking him while he fucked
Iris.

"That's hot," he decided, and resumed his thrusting, this time up. The motion made Iris' own
dick bounce against Lilith's throat, but neither seemed to mind given the noises they were
making. In fact, he could now feel the results of the shapeshifted girl's release running down
his own bare legs, and dripping off his sack, which slapped against her pussy even though she
had a penis.

The thought made him grin and redouble his efforts.

"More," Iris groaned after a few minutes, "I need more dicks in me!"

"Okay," Lililith grunted after pulling herself off the girl's shaft, "On the bed?"

"Y- yes!"

"You heard her, Ron," Lilith grinned, taking to the air again and grabbing Iris' hands to lift
her into the air that way. He made them walk slowly by taking a grip on Iris' waist and
humping still, as he walked carefully over to the bed and gestured, "I'm gonna sit."

He spun, still fucking Iris' arse, and did just that, using his own legs and hands to pry the
girl's quivering legs apart, then leaning back. He found the sight of Harry's penis sprouting
from between those legs to rise straight into the air strangely erotic as it bounced and circled
at the tip in time with his now slower, grinding thrusts.

Lilith climbed onto the bed straddling them both, but Ron had a different idea. Without
giving himself time to talk himself out of it, he grabbed the Succubus' dick at the base and
pulled down, "Wait."

She looked at him in surprise, and Iris whimpered but did not protest, allowing herself to be
guided.

It's just skin, he reminded himself, It's not gay to be touching it. She's a girl anyway. Or a
Succubus. Whatever. And... and this...

It took his entire hand to even close half-way around both as he brought both Iris' and Lilith's
she-dicks as he brought then together, aligned against each other. "Suck 'em both, Lilith," he
grunted.
"Ooh, kinky," she giggled, then arched her body in.

Iris groaned as the lips settled around just half of her, the other half covered with a delicious
cock. It wasn't as good as being buried in her, which she still wanted desperately, but it felt
soo good!

And... and this isn't Harry's dick, even if it looks like it. It's Iris'. And I've seen it before.
Touching it isn't weird. It's... it's so hot, and hard! And kind of silky, smoother than mine. I
think. Been a while since I've had to wank, heh.

Even though they had teased him relentlessly for an hour, even though Iris' bum-hole was
perilously tight, he wasn't quite close. This just wasn't enough to drive him over the edge
anymore, at least not quickly. But he was, in that moment, glad he was so used to sex now. A
short year ago, even thinking about this sort of activity would've had him blushing and
running for the hills in shame as he came too early to be useful.

Thinking about that made him feel strong, like he was better now, more worthy of love, of
intimacy. Now, he could hold his own against even Harry.

Insatiable Hermione.

Even his slag of a sister!

Even the Succubus liked shagging him! She said it all the time!

"Take it," he grunted, then leaned back, finally lifting a hand to Iris' budding chest and
pulling her back into him, "Lilith! Take that cunt of hers! Drive her insane with that cock!"

"Oh, oh yes, please!" Iris begged.

"Who'm I to disobey Mistress and Mistress' boy-toy?"

No one bothered to reply as the Succubus did just that, pushing into Iris' relatively unused
depths with no small amount of effort. As he had never felt before, Ron noticed every single
ridge and nodule, every vein, of Lilith's erection as it slid past his, separated only by a scant
inch or so of very pliable flesh. Even with her body hunched against his, he could see the
bulge Lilith left in her stomach.

"Jerk her off with me, Ron," Lilith whispered, eyes meeting his. "Let's make Mistress feel
really good!"

For just a moment, he hesitated as the Succubus' hand circled Iris' rod just above where his
own had been resting, all-but forgotten. It's just skin, and this is so fucking sexy!

He stroked, guiding Lilith just as he would if he were wanking himself.

It wasn't so different, he decided, aside from just how good having her rectum clutching
around him as Iris climaxed again made him feel. This time, her dick spurted, too, spraying
into the air to cover both girl's faces and land between them. His own release occurred almost
at the same time, his hot wash bursting forth into Iris' intestinal tract with a fury Ron could
not have predicted, one which he had felt only a few times before, when driven nearly mad
by the applications of his own Runes.

He didn't even really remember Lilith climaxing, but a few seconds later as he came back to
himself, all three were panting, spent, both tiny girls splayed atop him, his softening dick
almost but not fully out of Iris. "That... that was..."

"Amazing," Iris groaned, "Never... so full..."

"Amazing," Ron agreed, and he meant it. Even... even touching other penises hadn't grossed
him out, at least in the moment, like he'd thought it might.

Not Harry's. No, that was a bridge too far. But Iris, and Lilith? Sure... he could do that.
Sometimes. Probably.

If they asked.

He wasn't going to ask for it. No, sir!

And that was fine. He didn't think they would think less of him.

Thankfully, Iris stayed as Iris until she disappeared behind her bedroom door, and Lilith even
stayed with him after suctioning away all of both Iris' and his own semen and fluids, giving
him a rather tender blow-job to clean off anything from her untouched anus, too.

It was a bit weird to think about, but Ron had to admit it was fun anyway, and orgasms were
always great. Always.

Speaking of... I'm randy.

Despite a mind-blowing three-way with his best mate in female form and her pet Succubus,
Ron found himself looking at his erect penis again. "Hey, um, Lilith?"

"Yes, Ron?" she asks softly, lifting her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder
while she traced lazy symbols on his chest.

"You want another go? I wanna shag."

"Sure."

She started to straddle him, the body looking so much like Ginny's had when he'd once
walked in on her in the shower that Ron could not help but groan before she even lowered
herself. But the Succubus had other plans at the moment it seemed, for instead of dropping
onto his cock, which was still slick from saliva even if the other fluids had been gathered by
Lilith, and used her bald snatch to press him down against his own stomach, sliding up and
down it a few times. He watched as her folds, tender and so young-looking, molded and
morphed around his length while she moved back and forth with no apparent desire for more.
It felt great, and he let it continue for a few minutes, but before long he sat up, pulling the
small form against him and stood, then turned and threw her onto the bed, where she giggled
and opened her legs invitingly.
"I'm gonna play with you a bit now, if you don't mind," he told her, not leaving it up for
debate by his tone.

"Okay," she agreed at once, the devilish little grin he and Harry had both become so familiar
with spreading over the soft features. "Are you gonna make me feel really good, Ron?"

"I hope so," he replied, then climbed back onto the bed, straddling her waist this time, to
reach down and paw at her small breasts. "I do like 'em bigger," he said after a few seconds,
"but I can see why Harry likes them like this. They're kind of cute, smaller."

"I can change, if you want, Ron," she reminded him, "I don't mind."

He debated for a moment, then shook his head, sitting up to press his penis against her body.
Like this, it covered almost her whole torso and jutted against her jaw on the bottom. "That's
kinda sexy."

"Whatever you want tonight," she whispered, "Mistress is sleeping. You can have me
however you want... big brother."

It was a carefully chosen phrase, of course, but not one that was hard to figure out. That
didn't stop it from having the desired effect. The young wizard over her growled, reached
down and slapped her left breast. Not hard enough to hurt even a human, but enough to cause
a ripple of stinging sensation along with a small spike in her own arousal. "Dirty slag," he
told her, shifting his body down to kneel over her thighs instead, trapping her thin legs
between his far more muscular, thicker ones. "You don't want Mum hearing you talking like
that. She'd call you a scarlet woman."

"Mm.. for you I want to be," the Succubus said in a whisper, clearly enjoying their little
game, "I can look like her too, if you want. I doubt she'll mind."

"No," he replied louder, "Tonight, I want you, Harry's Pet. You'll make me feel good anyway,
won't you? And since I know you will, I'll make you feel good, too."

He stroked his erection against her tummy and between her tiny bee-stings a few times, then
sank lower and lower until he was kneeling on the floor, then hiked her closer and dipped his
head between Lilith's thighs. She was young and pristine-looking, although he knew full well
a fair number of men had taken her like this, and who knew how many of her own kind
before she'd been Summoned. He didn't care, though. It wasn't that he was shallow, that only
the appearance of innocence mattered. No, it was almost the opposite. That knowing she was
so experienced and that she still wanted him made him feel good about himself, too. The
young teenager's body she currently wore was just a little bit of secret spice on a cake of
debauchery that he would have asked for, but not known he wanted until late last year. Now,
Ron didn't know what he would do without it.

He licked, running his long tongue up the tender folds, and then bringing his whole mouth in
to suckle on the entire mound. Such was the size difference that the entire thing fit under his
lips, which made him smile. God that's hot, he thought, as her hips shifted under his face,
bringing even more of her to bear against his eager mouth, and she tastes so good.
Lilith reached down even as she started breathing faster to tug one of his arms up to her chest
and held it there, giving him access to knead and pinch her rosy nipple. Ron did, he was an
obliging sort these days he found, but it was hard to focus up there when his mouth was so
occupied. She hadn't yet climaxed after a minute, but the Succubus did gasp, "More, Ron! I
need big brother's dick in my slutty hole!"

Ron couldn't think of a better idea just then, so he stood up and hiked the girl's little legs onto
his own waist, holding her in place before ordering, "Put it in then, slag. You want big
brother's dick so bad, you better put it in, little brat."

"I don't just want it," Lilith whispered, eyes locked on his, "I need it!" But even looking at his
face didn't stop her from wrapping her cool fingers around his shaft, pumping gently with one
and guiding with the other as she pushed him down to slide along her moistened folds as he
pulled back with his hips. As soon as his head cleared her pelvic bone, he was in position,
lurching into place, his tip already pressing open the little, dripping folds.

"That's a good girl," he groaned, then held her body against him still while he hammered
home just like he knew she loved. It felt so amazing! He'd been with her like this before of
course, but back then, every time it was a bit of a turn-off to be shagging someone who
looked so young, so unprepared. Now, more experienced and more free with his emotions,
Ron took the experience for what it was: something unique and special. Not okay with
normal people of course, but with the Succubus, who wanted to look young for him just as
she did for Harry (because he wanted it), who wanted to be so tight, just like a girl that age
would really be...

It was exquisite.

He didn't even go in all the way, afraid of hurting her at first, until he remembered Harry
describing what it felt like to push his cock up into the Succubus' pseudo-womb, or what it
felt like on Romilda, or even Lavender. "I'm going deeper," he declared, and shifted his grip
on his partner to hold her shoulders as he leaned in and drove further inside.

He had never felt anything like it. Something like a skilled blowjob, lips gripping at him,
holding him even tighter, with a reverse angle pushing up, but all while inside a delicious
cunt. "Oh, fuck," he gasped, his eyes rolling back slightly.

"That's the idea, big brother,"Lilith groaned into his neck, and he felt her thin arms and legs
circle him, holding him closer. "Fuck my slutty hole so deep, Ron!"

He could no longer hold back, could not resist the urge. Without further warning, he was
humping wildly and rapidly, using the Succubus' body like he had with Pansy on the night
she'd given herself to their little group, using her like the whore she wanted to act like, the
sex-toy, the plaything, she actually was.

Even with pleasure and wild abandon such as he'd rarely felt coursing through him with his
cock as its source, Ron had now born Lilith's first Rune-marks for half a year, and he was a
long time reaching climax. Nearly an hour, in fact, leaving him exhausted but intensely
satisfied when he pulled free to blast his load all over the girl who writhed beneath and
against him. It was just too much suddenly as he came, she was too tight to remain inside as
his sensitivity spiked. Yet he didn't mind, for watching her coated in his leavings reminded
him of his very favorite thing.

"Leave it," he told her as she started to absorb his remnants, "I want to watch you like this for
a second."

Slowly, one line dripped down Lilith's chin as more pooled between her little tits, and a few
more long strings gathered in her navel and ran down between her legs. Slowly, daring still
perhaps elevated by the 'new experiences' they had tried just a bit before, he reached down to
smear his cum over Lilith's nipples, then leaned in to suckle one while he rubbed more into
her cunt. Immediately he decided he wasn't really a fan, but the Succubus' moan as his lips
closed on her flesh convinced him to stay, at least for a moment, and to give the other side
some attention too before pulling away.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered, violet eyes glinting in the dim light, "That was... wow.
What did you think?"

He grimaced, smacking his lips, "Not gonna do it again, probably? I like licking you, of
course, it's just... I don't like my flavor, you could say."

"I do," she whimpered, gathering up a dollop from between her lips with two fingers and
letting it fall, string-like, into her mouth with relish. "I could eat it all day. So more for me, I
guess."

"Right, I'll leave you to it then," he laughed, then sheathed his half-hard self in her body
again, giving a few lazy pumps as the last bits of his cum eased out, "I'm heading to bed.
Night, slut."

"Night, stud," she said with a giggle.

Theodore Nott, or just Nott to his friends, yanked on the enchanted rope he was pulling
harder, and the fifth-year girl, dirty and looking half-starved, stumbled along as she hurried to
obey, whimpering at the spike of pain that had shot through her with his anger. The rope was
really a work of genius, he'd found recently. His emotions translated through it into the girl.
Anger, frustration, hatred, they gave her pain. Happiness, satisfaction, joy, they gave her
pleasure. It was crude, he thought, but a highly effective means of conditioning.

One he wanted to look into more, later. For now, they were busy. His Master had taught him
well what he needed to do, but actually finding the drainage exit had been challenging in the
forest at night, and had taken him several days. Days of hiding his captive in secret, feeding
her scraps he could safely smuggle from the Great Hall, and all without letting it appear that
anything was amiss. No, there was enough amiss in Slytherin House, he did not need to add
to it.

Traitors, he thought, and the girl behind him whimpered again. They'll pay. I'll make them.

The tunnels were dark, dank, and smelled of rot and mold and worse. Obscured sometimes by
dangling roots and weeds in the early stages, now they were beneath the Castle itself, he
thought, for those had largely been left behind. Now the water was clearer, if foul still, by the
light of his wand. It seemed painfully inadequate at times, but in the narrow passages did
alright.

Narrow. As if calling his Master's former pet, who barely fit inside them thanks to her
serpentine form, was 'narrow'. He had seen memories, thanks to his Master, of that great,
noble beast. Destroyed by Potter. Ha!

He'd show the boy. Nott knew where true power lay, and knew how to take it. His Master had
shown him the way, given him detailed instructions implanted in his very head with memory
magics, how to begin undergoing the very same rituals he had once used to gain such great
power. To separate himself, too, from his human weaknesses, he knew.

It wasn't hard to figure out how Voldemort had done it, not after watching from the Dark
Lord's own eyes as he performed them, said the words.

Literally giving up something of the 'self' in return for more power. Sacrifice for gain.

Just like he would be doing with his captive in the near future, as soon as he found the proper
place.

He was getting closer. He could feel it.

And there... light. Not much, a soft green that reminded him of the Slytherin Common Room,
in fact. His wand-light dimmed to nothing without a word.

He had mastered silent casting over the summer, after all, at his Master's feet, for all he'd
been taught by Yaxley.

"Silence," he whispered back to the girl, still leading her forward, "Make no sound, and
watch where you step, cow."

She did not dare disobey, he knew. His wrath, since putting the rope around her neck, had
been manifested more than once. Not quite the Cruciatus, he knew, but extremely painful all
the same. He had also watched her body react as he felt almost unbidden gratitude for things
she'd done well or right.

Just the night before, in fact, when the fifth-year had finally gotten him into her throat all the
way, his climax had triggered one in her, too. She had been crying, sobbing at how hard he'd
forced himself in, the days-old remains of her makeup streaking her face with tears as he had
mounted her mouth cruelly, and she'd still orgasmed thanks to him.

Nott grinned to himself at the memory as the light slowly grew brighter and nearer.

What he saw nearly made her cum again, not that he cared. Someone had been busy. His
Master's memory of this very chamber was one of filth and neglect.

The body of the snake he had heard was still there was gone, and in its place was a well-
appointed living space.
Even a small kitchenette and closed-off loo, he realized after moving through it carefully. No
one was present, though, as far as he could tell, and his spells revealed neither human nor elf.

"Perfect," he whispered, turning toward his captive as her body shook with pleasure in his
joy. "That's it, whore... enjoy it. This place is great, perfect for what we need. So go ahead
and climax all you want, little cunt. This will do nicely."

She fell to her knees in response to his possibly mad joy. Nott didn't care. He'd taken the girl
on a whim, almost. He had found Malfoy's former captive and made use of her, then cut her
to pieces while she screamed silently as punishment for Malfoy becoming distracted.

In fact, that was still the best blow-job he'd ever gotten. For now.

Once his captive was fully broken in, he suspected her addiction to pleasure would make her
better at it. She would want to be as good as she could get, after all, to make her own pleasure
that much greater. Soon enough.

He had a ritual to prepare.

Nott stuffed the end of the rope in his hand into his pants, making sure it touched his skin
directly and would stay there before letting go. She would be too weak now, he knew, after
days of captivity and not enough food or water to stay healthy, to escape. But he didn't want
to take chances, and the magic would let go if the rope lost contact with him. Nor could he
put it around himself, for that would make him a captive, as well. His Master had made that
very clear. Touch it, but do not let it circle you.

He could handle that. Just like he could handle this task.

"Open your mouth, cunt," he ordered, stepping toward the girl, who hesitated only the
briefest of moments. He shoved in, not bothering to touch her otherwise, and let her go to
work on him while he focused on setting up the circle he would need for the first ritual. True,
it might have been a little distracting, but his Master had assured him that if he were careful,
he could climax as much as he wanted in the doing so. It would only make the final effect
that much stronger.

After all, if his mere joy at finding this place made the girl orgasm, what would his own
climax do? They knew, now, it would send her into paroxysms of pleasure that would last
several minutes.

She had little will to resist, not anymore.

In fact, Nott suspected that Vicky Frobisher only had two desires anymore. Avoid his anger
and pain, and give him pleasure, thus causing her own to skyrocket.

She could still think and converse of course. There was no undoing that. She simply didn't
care to, unless doing so would avoid the first or grant the second of those desires.

In other words, she was well-conditioned for what he needed her for.

Obedience.
He grinned as the markings in the floor began to take shape under his wand, and pulled her
head further onto him. It was a pity in some ways he couldn't take her virginity. He knew she
was, for he'd checked. But that could wait. Just a few more days, on the solstice, in fact. A
week before Yule this year.

The perfect time to consummate his new relationship with what would soon be the perfect
slave, and to begin his march toward becoming the Dark Lord's most powerful follower.

And perhaps, if he did not go mad in the process, one day... his equal.

The very idea kept him from orgasming, because just thinking it sent Vicky into a seizure of
pleasure so that she fell onto the flagstones, twitching and clawing at her cunt through her
filthy clothes. He snorted, "Useless," and the pain, while no doubt intense as he'd been
getting close, was not enough to override her climax.

It was a thrilling thought, that he had such control over her based on his whim, the slightest
of moods.

It had taken some work of course, and he had to craft the rope himself with his Master's
instruction, but it was well worth it.

With it, anyone could be made his willing slave in a week or so, he suspected. Anyone.

Even Greengrass, for all she seemed to prefer the company of witches.

But no... not for long. Soon, she would only prefer his company. He would make sure of it.
Maybe Frobisher, who was attractive enough for a younger girl he supposed, could stay to
make her happy at night. But that half-blood Greengrass was rumored to be shagging had to
go. At least Frobisher was a pure-blood, he was told.

"I didn't tell you to stop sucking me," he said calmly after a few more seconds to relish the
thoughts running through his head, and even more climaxes were not enough to keep her
from getting back to work. His own work resumed the moment she took him in her mouth
again.

It wouldn't be long now. In more ways than one.

 Public / Calling Out

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 90 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;

Chap. 56: Public / Calling Out

"Alright, thank you everyone, for all your hard work," Harry told the worn-out, frazzled-
looking group of Dumbledore's Army. They had searched the castle for the fifth time, top to
bottom, room by room, and still had found no sign of Vicky Frobisher. "We're putting future
searches on hold for now. The Head-" He paused as several people shouted denials, or that
they could keep going, that they had to. Once his single raised hand had returned the overfull
Room of Requirement to something like quiet again, he shook his head and tried again, "The
Headmaster suggested, and I agree, that we've got whoever took her run to ground, but we
aren't going to find them like this. We are going to stop ourselves in the hope that whoever
did it will rear their head to look around a bit, and then we can snatch them up. I don't like it
any more than you do, but it's the right course of action, I think. Don't worry, we'll pick it
back up in a few days."

"But it's almost the Christmas Hols," someone in the back shouted, "An' we still don't know
where she wen'!"

"I know," Harry returned, his eyes searching the back of the crowd from the now more-
elevated podium. It was getting harder to pick out any one person, and he didn't know who
had yelled, so he faced what he thought was the general direction and hoped for the best, "but
for now we don't have much to go on. Dumbledore also- well, no, I can't tell you that.
Operational Security. But he has a plan to find her during the Hols if nothing else. At the very
least, we expect it'll narrow down our search quite a lot. And I know you're worried, but he
assures me he knows she is still alive.

"I'm worried too. But I'm also worried that you lot have been running yourselves ragged
every day for a week. Homework, end of term exams, and now this, too? You aren't doing
Vicky any good by dropping where you stand from exhaustion. Tomorrow, don't turn up.
We'll meet once more, and probably do another search, right before the break. But not until
then. Of course, if any of you hear or see anything, let us know. Spread the word, get help
before you charge in like... well, a Gryffindor."

Several of the crowd laughed, most even in his own House, at the well-used line. "I'm as tired
as you are. I know, we all want Vicky safe. But we really aren't helping at this point. Just
keep your ears and eyes open, and keep yourselves safe. Have a good night."

The meeting broke up quickly, more than a few of the fatigued teens showing how they felt
about the situation with grumbles and scowls in his direction, but about twice as many
seemed relieved to have some free time, and were already discussing how they would meet
up to play Gobstones, or for more intimate activities over the next few days before the
Holidays began.

One and a half weeks.

Time was running out.

"Alright, you lot," he said tiredly, running a hand over his face as the crowd continued to
dissipate, most of the D.A. streaming through the double doors of the temporary auditorium
by that point, "I'm heading up to the dorms tonight. You can join me, or go down to the
rooms, you know you can go in whether I'm there or not. Not sure why I even bothered
saying it."

"You're tired, mate," Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder, "You've been working harder
than any of us. Go get some rest. We'll see you tomorrow."

"He's right, Harry," Hermione said, "but if you don't mind, Ron, would you mind coming
down with me? I've been missing my boyfriend."

The ginger perked up, but on Harry's other side as they suddenly found the pressing need to
be elsewhere, Ginny and Lyra shared a grin. "What about you, Lyra? Any special plans
tonight?"

The Succubus smiled, looking about at meeting eyes with Neville, who was looking over
Hannah's shoulder, "I think I'm going to make my way down to the Kitchens, or perhaps the
Greenhouses. Last warm night of the year in there, I'm told. Neville assures me it's quite
comfortable inside some of them even at night, and there's something he's wanted to try with
Hannah since last year."

"Ah. Sounds fun, I think. Mind if I join you in the Common Room for a bit, Harry?"

"Huh? Oh, no, of course not, Gin. You want to go now?"

"The sooner the better," she whispered, leaning into him and putting her arms around his.

The trip was smooth, aside from having to wind their way through a surprising number of
their peers who hadn't bothered to even find broom closets or empty classrooms before
putting hands inside their partner's clothes or more, but no one was outright shagging.
Fortunately, he suspected, for a few teachers still bothered patrolling the halls at night, even if
most of the Prefects used their positions to find private nooks of their own while they should
have been working.

Personally, Harry found their patrols more than a little useless at this point, anyway. There
were simply too many students getting 'up to no good' or 'letting their hair down' for any
number of points-taking to be worthwhile. Ginny, aside from comfortably fitting herself
against him like the good girlfriend she was, refrained from getting up to too much until after
he had settled onto his favorite armchair by the fire in the Common Room, and merely settled
herself sideways on his lap then, nuzzling into his chest a bit.

He was glad for the quiet company, and that most Gryffindors, now that they were in the
relative privacy of their own Common Room, were content to leave him to his own devices.
No one was shagging, as far as he could tell, though Lavender Brown was occupying herself
with grinding her skirt against a seventh-year boy he wasn't very familiar with to the tune of a
borrowed Wireless in the far corner.

A second-year boy was fondling himself over his clothes beneath one of the study tables
while he watched the action at a distance, but most others were too wrapped up in what they
or their immediate partners were doing. Even Fay Dunbar, normally a quiet girl who kept
largely to herself even in the dorm she shared with Hermione, was rather passionately kissing
a fifth-year boy he did not know at all except by sight, her hand in his pants, and his cupping
a firm-looking rear.

And all Harry wanted to do was sit back and enjoy the atmosphere.

It was sexual, yes, a charged feeling in the air he would not have been able to detect, he
thought, without Lilith's influence on himself, but it was also muted and tempered by his
fatigue. More so than sexual, too, it was peaceful. There was none of the frequent arguing, or
fighting over members of the opposite sex, or worrying about what others thought of them.

Instead, his House-mates were simply enjoying each other's company for what it was.

It feels free, he realized, sending a casual glance around. There, too, Parvati Patil was deep in
conversation with her twin sister, who had apparently been let through the Fat Lady's portrait
by her twin, the pair occasionally sneaking glances and giggling in Lavender and Dean's
direction. And Seamus Finnegan was... well, he was probably getting a blowjob beneath a
blanket, but it was hard to tell who the girl was. Possibly someone was watching him wank.

"This is nice," Ginny whispered, clearly looking around too. "It's funny in a way, to see
everyone being so... care-free, but I like it. It makes me feel... like I'm at home. Like we
belong here."

"We do," Harry told her, wrapping a hand 'round her waist and pulling her into him a bit
more, "Gryffindors. Beautiful, brave to a fault, and always eager for sex. Right?"

"Too right," Ginny giggled quietly, then leaned in for a kiss. "I don't want to go up to your
dorm, but I want to shag, Harry. Can we?"
"What... like right here?"

Her face close enough to his that he could feel the moisture in her breath as she exhaled,
Ginny nodded once, resolutely. "I want the world to see me shagging Harry Potter, my
boyfriend, my Master. I want them to be so jealous that all the girls want to fuck you, all the
boys want to fuck me. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Mm... your idea certainly has merit, Pet. I suppose we can, at least once, and if anyone's
bothered by it..."

"They can fuck themselves," Ginny whispered against his lips, "instead of us."

"Yes, that's exactly what I was going to say," he laughed, reaching a hand beneath her blouse
to cup a handful of her very firm, perky breast. "But I think you're wearing too much if we're
going to shag, love. A good girl who shags her boyfriend in public may as well put on a full
show, don't you think? Show everyone your naughty little bits, Pet."

"Yes, Master," Ginny cooed, then stood up, pulling off his lap and giving a decidedly
Umbridge-like, "Hem-hem," which made many of the Gryffindors jump in sudden fear.

Ginny did not look at any of them. Instead, she looked only at Harry as she began
unbuttoning her blouse, letting it hang open but still covering most of her while she reached
up to loosen her tie next.

"Wait, leave that," Harry told her.

Ginny grinned, obeying but leaving the knot loose so it hung lower on her body, the knot
directly between her tits. Around them, the normally subdued hubbub of the common room
had died away completely aside from the wind's slow moaning through the chimney and the
fire itself, which backlit Ginny in a way that Harry found captivating. It almost seemed to set
the edges of her hair on fire, surrounding the upper half of her body and head with a golden
halo that seemed entirely fitting.

The moment she shrugged off her white blouse, cat-calls, wolf-whistles, and hoots rang out
from boy and girl alike.

His girlfriend blushed just a little, enough to tell him and anyone watching- which was
everyone- that she heard and acknowledged that all of their eyes were on her, watching her,
looking at her naked chest, as she did not wear a bra except on the Quidditch pitch.

"Love your tits!" one fourth-year boy exclaimed from behind Harry, which sent titters of
laughter and agreement in equal measure around the room.

"Thanks," Ginny said, glancing over at him, "I reckon you might get a bit more of a glimpse
in future. I don't feel like being shy anymore, outside of classes."

"Hear, hear!" Lavender cried, and a moment later, the girl's heavy breasts, bare of clothing as
well, framed Harry's head from behind as her own blouse dropped onto the couch next to
him. "I mean, I can't go around without my boulder holders all the time, but every once in a
while, it's nice to set them free!"

Again, raucous laughter and cheering rang through the room, but as far as Harry knew, no
one else started taking off clothing just yet. He honestly hadn't expected even Lavender to do
so, for all she was entirely submissive to him in the bedroom. He hadn't even had sex with the
girl all that often, but feeling her warm bosom around his neck made Harry feel like a heel for
neglecting her. Is that why she'd been fondling Dean...?

No... well, maybe partly, he acknowledged to himself, but now that she's started actually
having sex instead of paying for homework help with her mouth, it makes sense she wouldn't
want to stop.

"Harry's mine for the time being," he heard Ginny tell the older witch without malice, "I feel
like giving everyone a show. If you feel like you don't wanna watch us shag, now's your last
warning, you lot! That means you younger years should clear out, too, but I'm not gonna
make you!"

To no one's surprise, least of all Harry's not a soul left. He himself at eleven would have been
aghast at what Ginny had just said, but he knew full well the extend of Lilith's subtle
influence over the castle's inhabitants. Just by being around her everyone grew more
susceptible to the powers and persuasions of lust. The longer and nearer one was to her, the
more pronounced the effect. Five months of exposure, now, with the summer holiday as a
break for most of them, was enough to drive the castle to heights of distraction unless they
got off at least daily.

For the Gryffindors in general, Harry suspected it was more like every few hours, and the
barriers of partnership and traditional relationships seemed to be largely falling by the
wayside. This must be the real reason Dumbledore wanted us down in the other rooms, Harry
realized as Ginny began twisting and writhing between his ankles, her skirt still on and
swaying with her hips' gyrations, but revealing tantalizing glimpses of her upper thighs and
even, as she turned to face the fire, a few of her delicious, creamy arse cheeks. Her dancing
was followed by more whistles and howls, but no one seemed of a mind to tell her to stop, or
even to say something along the lines of 'stop watching' to what he knew were several
couples watching.

And he was ecstatic about it. He didn't care, one way or the other, for privacy or public sex at
this point, though he admitted the thrill of the latter. But Ginny seemed to be enjoying, even
lavishing in the attention, and he could not blame her. He gave up trying to figure out any
other reasons besides the two obvious ones for separating him and Lilith (more the latter for
certain) from the student body as much as possible. Frankly, it didn't matter, and the
Headmaster had seriously underestimated just how wide-ranging her influence, what she
called her Territory with a capital T, spread. Hogsmeade had thirty-six pregnant women in a
village of less than two hundred residents at last count, more than twenty times the average
for this time of year.

The village was still more than a mile from where Lilith slept, even if she visited it often.
But Dumbledore didn't need to know that, and Harry didn't need to dwell on it. The old
wizard might be fighting the influence with sex education classes (finally), and freely
handing out prophylactics and charms and so on, but Harry knew the damage was already
done. Not that he considered it damage necessarily. Unless one of the girls ended up pregnant
(which was happening a lot more often, he knew, through stupidity on one side or both of a
coupling), there was hardly much 'damage' to be going on about. An entire generation of
students might have lower dowries for the more traditional families, but that was about it.

Well, in theory. Any rumors about one student or another were easily countered with more of
the same. So what if one family decried a girl for being a slag? Their own daughters were
likely no safer, and therefore everyone was better off just keeping their mouths shut and
sweeping the whole thing under the rug as much as possible.

Which worked well in Harry's favor.

Ginny had worked up a bit of a sweat by the time her impromptu dance ended, her skirt now
just hanging off one extended ankle, her entire body otherwise available for anyone to see.
Then she stood tall, bowed, and bowed again in three directions, accompanied by more
clapping, whistling, and hoots. "Thank you, thank you! Now, if you don't mind, I've got
another performance to get to. The second act, you know?"

The girl wasted no time in bending down to tug open Harry's belt and open his trousers. He
assisted by lifting his hips, but otherwise let Ginny do most of the work as she lifted his legs
one at a time and pried off shoes, socks, and then pants, finishing with his boxers. His shirt
she left until last, and then climbed into his lap, straddling him while she unbuttoned it as
slowly as she had her own, but only opened it to reveal his bare chest before leaning down
and kissing him passionately. Her tongue sought his at once, and the sight of his Pet on
display for all to see as she moved over him had Harry ready to take her then and there even
before they kissed. Feeling her tongue drive into his mouth, seeking and wrestling against his
own tongue left Harry panting as she pulled away, licking a string of saliva that hung between
their lips. "Harry," she said softly, just loud enough to hear over the cries of, "Daaamn!" and
"That was so hot!" from the boys, or "Why can't you kiss me like that?" from the girls.

At least, that's how Harry interpreted the mess. But he wasn't really listening to the other
Gryffindors anymore. He was only vaguely aware that Lavender had stood up and vanished
from contact behind him as Ginny reached down to stroke his erection with both hands. He
watched distantly as several of the girls who had no doubt fantasized about him at one point
or another came closer to the back of his armchair, or around into view to get a better angle
themselves. An equal number of boys, he saw, came to watch Ginny. And sure, there were
probably a few watching both, or the other gender. Did he care? Not really.

So what if some of the boys he thought played for the other team, as it were, checked him
out? He was a specimen these days, as Ginny, Lilith, Hermione, and others told him
regularly. It didn't stop him from growing increasingly comfortable in his own skin. Besides,
Iris' voice somehow rang into his mind, I like it when they look anyway. It's flattering, even if
it's you.

Somehow, Harry supposed that was true.

But more importantly, Ginny's hands were speeding up as she looked up at the others
surrounding them, "My boyfriend has a huge cock, doesn't he?"

"Sure as hell does," Katie Bell, who he hadn't noticed before, said from behind and to Harry's
left, "It hurt like hell when we shagged, at first."

Jealous grumbling made itself known, but Ginny only shrugged, "You know, we aren't
exactly exclusive. If you want to shag Harry, ask him. Don't be a coward, don't be a bint. Just
ask him. He'll probably give you a good time. He always does with me and Lyra."

"You're shagging Lyra, too?"

Harry didn't know which girl had asked, one of the fourth years he thought, but Harry
shrugged, not taking his eyes off Ginny's body as she climbed onto his lap again and started
grinding her dripping slit over his length, still pumping the upper half with her hand as the
other started playing with his hair. "Yeah? I thought everyone knew that."

"He's a great shag," Lavender announced, "best I've had."

Harry grinned. Lavender Brown had had a bit of a reputation since their third year when she
was among the first to develop, but he knew very well that she was still a virgin when they'd
done it the first time in the broom closet, on the night he had claimed her as his. Sure, she
might've sucked off a few boys. What girl with that kind of rep hadn't at her age? Seemed
like very few. But now, he was almost certain she'd been with half of Gryffindor fifteen and
up. Something like that, anyway. Hearing her say what Lilith did, that he was an amazing
lover even at his age, made Harry feel quite good about himself.

"Damned straight," Ginny agreed a moment later, "You guys want proof? I'm so wet. Want to
see me shag Harry right here?"

Obviously, the question was rhetorical.

Ginny rose up just a little, using the hand she'd just been pumping him with to angle him
toward her, then rose up higher and higher until he could finally fit beneath her. She was
more standing than kneeling at that point, which made several of the others groan with envy
of one or both of them. And as she sank down onto him, slowly and gently, Ginny sighed, her
arms coming up to fall on his shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck. "Circe, Harry... you
always fill me up so good!"

"Look at the bulge," one of the boys whispered to his friend from behind Harry, on the
opposite side as Katie.

"He's freakin' huge," he heard someone, probably Parvati Patil judging by the accent, "he'd
break me in half!"

"But you want to anyway," Lavender teased.

"Damned straight I do," the other girl replied shamelessly.

Harry only smiled and leaned back into the couch as Ginny started grinding and twisting
while she lifted and fell on his rod, almost mirroring the same moves she had used while
dancing for them. Only this time, everyone could see her nether lips split wide, stretching
around his phallus, being pulled out and pushed in as she moved back and forth.

There was more whispering of admiration or jealousy or both, but Harry largely tuned it out.
He knew he could turn this into an orgy with just a few words, but that was not what he
wanted. Not what Ginny wanted. Maybe one day, soon or further off, full-on orgies would
happen in the Gryffindor Common Room. Probably, if Lilith had anything to say about it,
which she did, and likely sooner.

But not tonight.

Giving the others a show or not, this was about him and his Pet.

Harry let his hands roam her body too, exploring the familiar lines and curves, nestling in the
nooks and crannies that made her purr, from the sensitive one below her ear and down to the
more hidden spots on the inside of her thighs, where his fingers dug into the nerve cluster
there almost painfully, but which made Ginny gasp and shudder in a quickly-onset climax
mere minutes after she had started riding him.

But her pace did not change, although her eyes grew darker, heavy-lidded. "That was really
good, Harry," she said quietly, "tease me more."

"Your wish," he replied just as loudly, and leaned forward to suckle one pink nipple with his
lips, then suction it between his teeth and hold it there while he laved with his tongue for a
few seconds. Ginny gasped, torn between leaning into the attention and pulling away, caught
between equal measures of pleasure and pain on her teat.

The mark wasn't yet fully formed when he released her, but the hickey directly on her nipple
would show everyone in about a minute that, even if they got a show, even if they shagged
her, Ginny was his.

Even if, when, Ron eventually got to experience her deliriously tight cunt, she would still be
Harry's. Forever.

She'd sworn it, and he knew the magic would hold, just as all the rest that Lilith had used
would.

Ginny grew faster, nearly bouncing on him now, her movements not erratic but increasingly
frantic, until she collapsed against him, quivering and jerking her hips on him in another,
even stronger climax. "Damn, tha's two," he heard Seamus murmur to his right, "but Harry
ain' done yet. You watch."

No one argued. Harry wondered if, despite secrecy oaths, word had gotten out somehow
about the times the Irish boy and Dean had joined them for ritual orgies. Perhaps it was
Lavender.
But no... probably people just suspected. That he rarely stayed in the dorms, and had been
given private quarters large enough for his initial circle of friends to sleep in regularly while
entertaining 'guests' was an open secret, one that Harry suspected the entire school was privy
to, even if some didn't believe it.

But the renewed discussion halted again as Ginny dragged her body up and off him, only to
turn around and lower herself again, this time using a hand to guide him into her from the
front, so both were facing the fire. Her feet rose to the chair too, and she lifted harder, faster,
arching her back to push her chest out as she started humping him again, with even more
vigor.

"Shit, that's sexy," one of the boys muttered from just in front of her. He was staring avidly at
Ginny's cunt, which Harry knew looked amazing stretched open like that.

"I know," he told the boy, "look all you want. Just don't touch tonight."

"Yeah, I got ya," the third-year said, almost slurring in his growing lust as he reached down
into his pants to adjust what had to be a most painful erection.

For a moment, Harry debated again just telling him to pull it out and wank to them, to cover
Ginny in his seed, but no... not tonight.

It didn't stop some people, though, as the sounds of more people grunting or moaning with
ecstasy as they peaked sounded off, one after the other with increasing frequency, behind and
to their sides. Harry, encouraged by her own growing lust and desperation for him to finish,
reached up to guide Ginny's upper body back with a hand around her slender throat, not quite
choking but applying just a little pressure, while the other moved to her clit, which was turgid
and inflamed. That, he closed his fingers over and whipped back and forth violently, knowing
she was sensitive but not too much for that to really hurt in the throes of passion.

She climaxed again in less than five seconds, screaming out and even spraying a line out onto
the plush carpeting and the same third-year boy who had been watching so closely on the
pant leg. He grunted, his own pants developing a dark patch on the crotch a moment later, but
he didn't stop moving his hand.

Harry didn't blame him. At thirteen, being given a show like this, live, and with permission?
He wouldn't have been able to stop, either. Perhaps later shame and embarrassment would hit
the boy. But not right now.

"Getting close," he told his lover finally, voice husky and low, "You're so amazing, Gin..."

"I know," she said with a panting chuckle, "but so are you, Harry. Cum... cum in my tight
little pussy! I want it!"

It wasn't quite enough to spur him to the edge, but his climax was coming on fast. He had one
trick to surely get it over without using his Succubus-granted abilities to pull it out faster,
which he wasn't in the mood for. He wanted this naturally, or as much as he could with the
stamina and sensitivity runes working almost against each other. This, though, would drive
the watching crowd insane with jealousy, on top of everything else, and add a bit more spice
to Ginny and his little show, too. "Lavender," he called loudly, "I know you've got a cock in
your mouth, but it's my turn! Get over here and clean up the mess I'm about to leave in
Ginny!"

There was a loud pop, and then a fervent, breathy, "Yes, Master!"

Harry grinned as several of the onlookers gaped, and Jack Sloper, newly on the Quidditch
team as a Beater this year, groaned in disappointment. "I'll be back, Jackie," she told him,
then bounded over the couch to kneel between Harry's legs, just inches from where Ginny
was still bounding on him recklessly. The sight of his slave-girl there, ready to do her duty
and clean up him and his Pet, was enough to tip the scales. He grunted several times,
clutching Ginny to him and holding her still while he finally moved, thrusting up and up into
her, burying himself past her womb once more as his scrotum twitched and flexed.

"God," Lavender murmured, "I can see his cum shooting up his dick... Master's gorgeous!"

Again, several of the others sent glances at her choice of words, but Harry didn't care. They'd
already been told he had shagged her. Now they'd know she was a sub. It wasn't that big of a
deal, as far as he was concerned, and he doubted Lavender would care, either.

Once he was done, and Ginny was nearly at another orgasm, he held her still with his cock
buried deeply within her, leaking fluids down both their bodies, and ordered, "Get to it,
slave."

"Yes, Master," Lavender said at once, and used her hands on Ginny's thighs to lick them both
clean over several minutes, while the crowd continued to watch in desperate, randy surprise.

Once the exterior was clean, he slowly lifted Ginny off of him, allowing the blonde girl to
clean his shaft an inch at a time with her tongue and lips, too. Eventually, he set Ginny on the
arm of the chair, and told her, "Lick what you can so she doesn't drip, too. Make her enjoy it."

"Yes, Master," Lavender repeated without hesitation, and sidled to the side, immediately
burying her face between Ginny's legs.

"What the?!" He looked up to see Parvati staring at her best friend, mouth agape, with a
seventh-year boy's hands inside her shirt from below, "You said you would never eat pussy!
You lying cow!"

"Don't blame her," Harry said casually, drawing much of the attention and at least some of the
Hindu girl's to himself again, "she does what I tell her to. She's a good slave. Just ask her.
Don't expect that from everyone. Why, Parvati? Did you want her to go down on you?"

The dark-skinned girl turned a few shades darker and she looked away, "W- Well, I... maybe
when we were, uh, experimenting... but she didn't do it! I d- er... I..."

"No shame, no harm, no foul," he said, looking around the room, "I don't care which way you
swing or don't. If you aren't hurting anyone, it doesn't matter to me, and I'll have words with
anyone who gives you grief about it. If that doesn't work, I'll throw spells. You lot know me
well enough to know I hate bullies."
No one disputed that, it was fairly common knowledge. But did Parvati really feel left out,
even with the attention she was getting from a relatively handsome older bloke? He could act
on that. Always wanted twins, and she and Padma are quite the lookers... might have to
convince the dear sister that Ron's a changed man, but that shouldn't be too hard once she
sees how he treats Hermione.

Once Ginny was through gasping out her fourth orgasm of the evening into Lavender's now
cream-covered mouth, the older witch immediately returned to Harry and suckled on the cap
of his still-hard penis, doing her best to suck out any remnants of his cum still in there.
"That's a good girl," he sighed, then reached over to pull Ginny against his shoulder. "Alright,
everybody, show's over. Come on, Lavender, go back to Sloper, he's probably lonely. Have a
good night, everyone."

This time, while he and Ginny headed up to his dorm with both of their clothes in arm rather
than on, aside from her tie and his shirt, there were no other hoots or catcalls, but a few
people did say things along the lines of, "Great show, Ginny," and, "Can't wait for my turn,
Harry!"

He was still a bit preoccupied with Ginny's bum as it moved ahead of him up the stairs, still
dripping a little from their mutual pleasure. It was going to be a fun night, and not for the first
time, he was very glad both of them had Stamina Runes now. She was going to need them.

Draco Malfoy sighed as two tongues slithered up and down his length, cleaning his cock for
the third time that day. It was tiring, keeping both Ross, his first pet, and the Knockturn Alley
whore who had caught his eye a few days before under the effects of the Imperius Curse,
because he had to cast it on both of them at least twice a day to be sure they would not break
out. It was well worth it, though, and not just for the sexual satisfaction he got from it.

Ross, though too slender and tall for his true tastes, had fallen into her role as his cum
receptacle quite well after their attempts to use the Vanishing Cabinet had proven successful.
Frankly, he didn't need her for anything else anymore, but her eagerness to take him in any
way he desired was fun in itself. He liked being in charge. It made him feel powerful, like he
was supposed to be.

He hadn't bothered to learn the whore's name. She was a few years older than he, probably at
or just below twenty-one, but attractive enough, with long, bright blonde hair and curves that
would make most muggle runway models jealous. Her twat was a bit well-used, and
accommodated him almost too easily, but Draco had been delighted to learn that her mouth
was well-trained too, and her arse almost untouched. She had been a bit more resistant to his
efforts to control her than Ross had, but once his second cast had taken hold, she submitted
willingly enough. Now he just had to keep it on her, on them both.

For three days now, they had been in the whore's tiny little apartment, one of six above six
more, below another twenty-four, in a little row-house on Diagon Alley. Likely, it was all she
could afford. Draco suspected she was a Squib, for he had not seen a wand on her, which
would make sense. Penniless, or nearly so, and forced to sell herself to survive? It fit his
beliefs about what a Squib was good for almost too well.
His first act, after wearing himself out using her body (and ignoring Isabelle Ross for the first
time in more than a week), had been to toss her home for anything useful. It wasn't much. A
basic Potions kit, though more than he'd been able to smuggle from Hogwarts in their flight,
and about twelve Galleons in mixed coin, only two of which were gold. He carried more than
that in spending cash even within Hogwarts, but it did nearly double their current funds. Her
food was running low, now, but that was alright. Draco did not intend to stay much longer.

"All I need to decide is where we're going next, and if I'm going to keep you."

Both girls looked up at him for a moment, their cheeks, lips, and tongues shining with a mix
of saliva and his semen, then got back to work without questioning him. "Clean it off each
other when you're done with me. Lick it from each other's body."

Neither said a word, neither questioned it, though Ross smiled at the order. Draco couldn't
help but grin, and leaned back into the whore's ratty couch and closed his eyes while the two
women continued to clean him with their tongues and lips. Once Ross was sure he was
satisfied, she pushed the other girl backwards and climbed on top of her facing the other
direction, using her cunt to clean the whore's face, then lowering it to be cleaned itself.

Draco, while he watched some of it as they shifted positions, was less interested in that.
Watching the girls do things with each other was fun, but he was tired and needed to rest.
Without further instruction, they would likely still be doing the same thing after his nap.

But where to go? I need to be sure the Dark Lord got my message. If they don't know I
succeeded in fixing the Cabinet, they're far more likely to come after me, and I can't just go
home and tell him. He'd kill me for not finishing the job on Dumbledore. Can't leave the
country either.

There's got to be somewhere I can go... what about Mum's family's house? No... Snape told
the Dark Lord that's where the Order is staying. Can't use that.

Hmm... Ross' family? She's got parents I think. I don't know if I could keep them all under the
Curse, but maybe if I take them out of the picture?

... Could I, though? I know the spell, but...

Draco shuddered to himself. If he were honest with himself (something new, but he was
trying it out), he wasn't sure. The Imperius Curse is easy enough to do, but I'm not sure I've...
got the stomach for the Cruciatus Curse. And the Killing Curse... it's... well... maybe if I had
to. But there's other ways. I could temporarily order them to leave, and hope the spell holds a
while. Maybe that would work. Damn it, I need a House Elf. Fucking Potter, stealing Dobby
from us. I don't dare ask for one of my parents', they would report back.

Fuck it, I'll think about it later. I need to rest.

He didn't notice a thing for several hours.

When he did wake, feeling much better, Draco ordered the women up onto the whore's bed,
with her on the bottom, and for them to kiss and fondle each other's chests while he watched.
Once that wondrous image had coaxed another erection out of him, he dipped back into Ross
first, for she was much tighter, then the whore, and back again, using both their eager holes
for his pleasure until he made a mess over both of them. "You know what to do, clean that
up," he ordered each other, then turned his attention back to planning in more detail while he
watched.

By the time the girls had come to lick him clean afterward, he had a plan. Not much of one,
but at least a next destination.

What he needed was more resources.

More money, a larger, safer, cleaner and more comfortable place to stay. He needed more
help. And he did know a few half-bloods that had entirely wizarding households that were...
vulnerable.

Yes, vulnerable is a good word, he told himself, looking down at the whore who was sucking
his cock again, just like this slut was. I can work with vulnerable. And soon I'll have more.

The thought made him hard again, and it wasn't long before he was holding the whore's head
in place while he humped her mouth-hole relentlessly, just like he had the first time he'd
taken her. It was a heady rush. He liked being in control, and he never wanted it to stop.

It was a feeling Draco knew he would never have achieved while his father and mother lived.
Now, he knew he would not achieve it while the Dark Lord lived. At least, not while Draco
served him. But it would be unthinkable to just leave. Too many other older, wiser, more
powerful witches and wizards had tried, and precious few survived even a year.

He, Draco, was too important for that. He had to live. It was imperative. So he would take
what he could from the slaves he had created, take more as needed, and when it was safe,
disappear. The orient might be good, he had heard some good things about the witches there,
and that Chang bint in Ravenclaw had been attractive enough, for all her slender figure. Bit
like Ross, actually. I suppose that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Indeed, he had come to appreciate how her slender body looked. He still preferred a more full
figure, but he liked them thin, too, now. "That's it, whore, keep sucking. What do you think
you're doing, slave? Get down there and lick her."

Ross hurried to obey, her compliance adding yet another thrill to Draco's day. It was not the
last.

"Potter, Sendai, Granger, Weasley, you will stay after class. I need a quick word with you."

The four mentioned students shared a worried look. Professor McGonagall had been as strict
as ever, perhaps even more so, in her N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration classes, but this was
unusual. They hadn't been doing anything wrong, had they? The stern Head of Gryffindor
had barely said a word to them outside of classes all year, after showing Harry to his new
quarters.
As the other students filed out, a mix of Houses just like all the other N.E.W.T. courses
thanks to the strict qualifications needed, the three actual students and one Succubus slowly
made their way up to the Scottish witch's desk to stand in a row, as she expected.

"I have asked for word to be passed on to a few others. I expect to meet with you and those I
have sent word to in your... private dormitory, immediately after dinner. I do not expect to
interrupt anything except homework. Am I clear?"

"Er, yes, of course, Professor," Hermione spluttered, "What- what's going on?"

Far from acting as if the bright younger witch was her favorite pupil as usual, McGonagall
only raised an eyebrow at the question, then said cooly, "I shall tell you when you are all in
one place, Miss Granger. Now, go. You have other classes to attend."

Discuss the matter as they might while hurrying on to their longer Charms lesson of the
week, the four could not come up with a decent reason for the deputy headmistress to be
talking to the four of them, plus unspecified others. It was such a distracting topic that none
of them except Lyra, who didn't bother pointing it out, noticed that more than one student was
giving their neighbor a handjob or diddling clits throughout the Charms lesson, even if they
were paying attention otherwise.

Master must have set something off with his public use of his Pet, she thought to herself,
hiding a smile behind a false yawn. It's about time, I was worried I'd have to use Lust Powder
in the Great Hall to get them to start doing things openly. Silly Hogwarts rules...

Several hours later, the 'whole crew' were staking claim to all the sitting room available in the
common area of Harry's temporary quarters. Ginny was sitting on Harry's lap sideways,
Hermione and Ron crammed into the couch beside them with Lyra on the couch's arm next to
Harry and Ginny, while Neville, Hannah, and Lavender Brown took up the smaller seats,
forcing Seamus and Dean to stand behind them, or mill about behind the couch.

They were both by the fire, chatting quietly while stealing glances toward the girls in the
room, when the firm knock on the door made them jump. "That'll be her," Hermione said
quickly, jumping up from her seat to hurry to the door nervously.

What she saw there made her pause. "Um... good evening, Professor. Er... this isn't really a
good time, um, Miss Greengrass, Miss D-Davis."

"What I have to say may be said in front of others, Miss Granger," the older witch told her,
pushing past (rather rudely, Harry thought, but he didn't dare protest) into the room, "Unless
you wish to leave them out in the hall, Potter. It does not directly concern them, but I will
need a word with them after speaking with you all."

"Er, I guess it's alright," Harry said, putting a hand on Ginny's leg to try and get her to stand
up while he pulled out his wand, "I guess we should conjure more seats, or-"

"That is quite alright," McGonagall said, glancing around the gathered group and doing it
herself. With a simple wave of her wand, four of the familiar, high-backed chairs she usually
conjured appeared between the seats and the loveseat and couch, allowing Seamus, Dean,
Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis to take seats. The boys, without thinking, took the two
next to each other nearer the couch, and the two Slytherins, the only ones in a room full of
Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff, shared a nervous look, but said nothing as they went to flank
the chair Neville was sitting in, with Daphne taking the seat between he and Hannah.

Minerva McGonagall herself stood with her back to the door, the long wand she used tapping
in one hand as she surveyed them with a near-glare. "With the exception of the two Slytherins
in the room," she nodded toward the nervous-looking girls, "there has been a marked drop in
school performance across the board in this room. I am especially disappointed in your
schoolwork lately, Miss Granger. I presume I do not need to tell you why?"

"Um, n-n-no, Professor," Hermione murmured, her voice quiet, so soft as to be almost
unintelligible. "I've been, um, d- distracted. I think we all have."

"Just so," McGonagall said, her voice cold, showing no sign of relaxing the pressure she was
putting on them all with her glare and tone, "When the Headmaster told me of your change in
circumstances, Potter, I expected there would be some... effects. Some 'distraction', as Miss
Granger put it, and yes, I could even have predicted the majority of the people in this room
right now."

Her steely gaze swept over each of them, aside from the Slytherins, pausing on each teen's
own eyes for a moment as if to bore into them in an attempt to impress how deeply
unimpressed she was with each ot them. "It seems I underestimated the effect, however.
While I well remember the, shall we say, passions of youth, I feel that I should not have to
remind you, yet am in the position of needing to do so, that there is more to life than- than
pleasures of the flesh."

Harry was quite shocked to hear the phrase come from his Head of House's mouth, and both
Dean and Seamus openly snickered, though the rest, thankfully, were able to keep their
mouths shut and look contrite.

McGonagall, of course, would have none of that. "That will be a full twenty points from each
of you, Thomas and Finnegan! This is not a laughing matter! What you do in the privacy of
your own dormitories is, unfortunately, not my purview, as long as no one is getting hurt.
Such has been part of the Hogwarts Charter since its inception. But your schoolwork is, and I
find that drop in performance appalling. Only Mr. Potter and Miss Granger have even
managed to maintain any work that qualifies as Exceeds Expectations, but most of even Miss
Granger's work of late has dropped off into only Acceptable territory. Of course, I cannot
force you to pass your classes. But I can, as your Head of House, your Transfiguration
Professor, and as Deputy Headmistress, remind you that at N.E.W.T. Level, you are no longer
required to attend Hogwarts. Your classes can be dropped if you cannot meet the course load
with acceptable grades. And if you lose too many classes, your entire tuition may be
suspended or revoked. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y- Yes, Professor," Hermione whispered.

Harry noticed her body shaking, trembling, as the Boggart he had learned of in his third year
seemed to be coming true for Hermione. She had failed, at least as she would see it, in
school. She was being openly, publicly, shamed for not performing at her usual standards.
"I expect better of my Gryffindors," she told them all firmly, "And I suspect, had I not told
her I would be speaking to you, Miss Abbot, that Pomona would be having similar words
with you, soon.

"Now, Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, I believe Mr. Potter will not object if we use a side-
room to discuss your matter before I take my leave."

She did not bother looking to Harry for permission, and no one said anything, no one moved,
until McGonagall stood at the door of one of the smaller bedrooms, the door held open, while
she looked pointedly between the Slytherins.

They jumped up at once as soon as she looked back at them, and within a few seconds, the
door was closed.

"Hermione," Ron said quietly, taking his girlfriend's hand, a gesture that Harry repeated a
moment later, "Are- are you alright?"

"No," she admitted after a moment, "No, Ron, I'm not. Thank you for asking."

"We have been slacking," Ginny reminded them all, "So I s'pose we sort of deserved that. But
Hermione, that was unfair, singling you out. You know that, right?"

The girl next to Harry continued trembling, shaking like a leaf in a gale, as if at any moment
it would tear free from the tree to be lost in the storm. "Hermione," he said, giving her hand a
firm squeeze, "Ginny's right. McGonagall had no place singling you out, embarrassing you
like that, and I'm going to have words with her about it."

"No," Hermione whimpered, "No, you can't, it'll just get you in more trouble, Harry, I-"

"No," he shot her words right back, looking at her sternly too, "that was not right. Maybe it'll
cost Gryffindor a thousand points, but right now, I don't care. That was uncalled for. Anyone
who knows your Boggart knows why, too."

"Harry, I really don't think you should-"

Just then, McGonagall came out of the other bedroom first, quickly striding across the room
behind Harry.

Throwing off her grip on his hand next, Harry stood up quickly and stepped out of the circle
of chairs, "Professor! Professor, I need a word with you."

"Oh?"

She stopped smoothly and turned to face him, "Does this word require privacy?"

Harry glanced back at the others, who looked if anything more nervous, finishing with
Hermione, who looked flat-out terrified that he would be chucked from the school for doing
what he was about to do. But he swallowed and turned back to the one teacher (aside from
Dumbledore, who had only been teaching their DADA for a few months now) he respected
the most. "I think you owe Hermione an apology."
The silence, the tension, in the room was palpable.

"Whatever for, Potter?"

"For being rude, for one thing," he pointed out, "pushing past her into the room. For another,
publicly humiliating her and calling her out. I know our grades have dropped, we all know
you're right to speak to us about that, and none of us dispute it. Right, guys?"

"Leave us outta this, mate," Ron said quickly, "But yeah, you're right, I guess."

Harry watched as the older witch began to fume, though she said nothing. "But singling her
out in front of everyone was just mean. You know how she feels about school, and you know
full well she still works harder on it than the rest of us combined, except maybe Miss
Greengrass and Miss Davis. But you still felt the need to make her feel terrible about it?
Worse than she already did just by telling her you noticed her grades dropped? That's not on,
Professor, and it's not right."

There was silence again for several long seconds, until McGonagall drew in a slightly shaky
breath, "Are you quite done, Potter?"

"I reckon so, yeah, Professor," Harry said, trying to maintain a modicum of calm when he
was quickly building himself in to a towering rage.

"Very well. Then permit me to have my piece said as well. Never, in my long career teaching,
has a student dared to attempt to reprimand me! You have no right whatsoever to do so,
Mister Potter. I have a great deal of respect for what you have done, and yes, the Headmaster
has made a great deal of it known to me. I respect your intelligence, your compassion, and
your drive. I respect your loyalty to your friends! But I do not have to stand here and listen to
you telling me how to do my job in front of other students! Two hundred points from
Gryffindor! For the gall!"

She turned briskly and continued storming to the door.

"Lock," Harry said simply, and an audible click was heard. McGonagall's hand did not turn
the knob one iota.

"Open the door, Potter. Now."

"It doesn't feel good to be called out publicly, does it, Professor," he asked quietly. "Now you
have an idea how Hermione feels. Have a good night, Professor."

He didn't even say the word open, but as soon as he had finished speaking, the door clicked
again, the wards the Headmaster had applied obeying his command.

When the door slammed shut behind the older witch, he let out a long, slow breath, and held
up his hands to realize they were trembling. They dropped as he turned toward the others,
feeling suddenly very faint. "That went well. So, Miss Davis, Miss Greengrass, you wanted
to talk to me?"
"No offense," Daphne said smoothly, her own face, like Tracey's, unreadable despite the
shock and worry that adorned almost everyone else's at what Harry had just done, "but not in
present, entire, company."

"Er, we'll take that as our leave, then," Dean said just as quickly if not quite as casually as
Daphne had spoken, "Come on, Seamus. Let's go back up to the Common Room. Katie Bell
was saying something about a Reserve Quidditch Team since her Beaters aren't very good
this year."

"Better'n las' year after Harry got kicked off with the Twins. Those two couldn' hit anythin'!"

While Harry agreed, he largely tuned out the Quidditch discussion as the two left. Yet
Daphne still said nothing, only looked at him with growing, though faint yet, impatience.
"Fine. Go on into my room, I'll be there in a moment."

Daphne nodded once, then took Tracey's hand and lead her to his right, not bothering to look
at the others before they vanished behind the door as well. Harry stepped further into the
room, wanting to go back to sit next to Hermione for a moment, but the spot had already been
taken by Ginny and Lyra, who was now suddenly the child-sized Lilith, small enough to fit in
the space he had occupied with the petite, athletic Weasley.

No one seemed to know what to say. A long, tense silence filled the room as Hermione
continued to visibly hold back tears, her lower lip trembling now even more violently than
her or Harry's own hands.

It was Neville who finally broke the dam. "Look, we all know she's right," he said quietly,
"we've all gotten too focused on... on having fun, and not doing our schoolwork. But it
doesn't have to stay that way. We have time for both. We've been doing our homework, I've
seen it. We just have to... not get so easily distracted. Focus more on it, get it done right.
That's all. Take a little more time, not- not jump into sex or whatever as soon as someone
says they're randy."

"He's right," Ron nodded reasonably, "and I can admit I've been one of the first, most days.
I'm sorry for that. I'll try and do better, I promise. Mum would have my hide if she found out
why my grades dropped, and even more if she heard Hermione's had, too, because of me."

"Literally, his whole hide," Ginny quipped, "I've seen the knife she'd use in her cutlery
drawer. She'd hang it on the clothes-line to dry."

Everyone but Hermione laughed, even though Harry suspected that it might just have an
inkling of truth hidden in there somewhere (at least the tanning part).

"We- we just have to do better," Hermione said after several more seconds, "I- I have a
proposal. A suggestion. If- if everyone agrees. If- if we don't, then I can't come down here
until my homework is complete for the day. Even- even if that means missing out."

"You know we'd never cut you out, Hermione," Harry told her firmly, "even if you arrived
late to the party. But go on, what are you suggesting? I bet it's brilliant."
"It's, well, just a simple idea," she demurred, reaching down to pick at a nonexistent burr in
her skirt, "It's just... well, I was thinking that maybe if... before we do more fun things, we
looked over each other's homework, to make sure it was up to scratch. That's all. But... like,
make it a promise. Every day."

Harry blinked. It was simple. It was... probably effective. "Brilliant," he said at once,
beaming at the girl and then around the room, "Isn't my girlfriend brilliant? Best idea I've
heard all week. So simple any of us could've thought of it, but she did it. Genius."

"Stop," Hermione said, blushing and looking down.

Hannah perked up a bit at what Harry had said, though, and asked, "I know you two are
doing things, of course, but... isn't Hermione Ron's girlfriend?"

"Yes," Harry said at once, "And mine."

The blonde girl didn't know what to make of that, it seemed, for she fell quiet for several
seconds.

"Don't question it too much," Ron said, standing up and stretching with one arm, the other
pulling Hermione up with him despite her protests, "we don't exactly have a normal
relationship anyway. What're labels for? Nothin' useful, to me. But yeah, we're both her
boyfriends. Have been since last year. We just don't try and make a big deal of it, you know?
So people don't go calling her a slag or anything, or accuse her of playing us both along."

"We know Hermione wouldn't do that," Neville said quickly, taking Hannah's hand, "It's-
besides, it's not so much different than... than Hannah and Harry. It's just another word."

"A word with significant weight attached, though," Lyra said meaningfully, "And that's
alright. As long as it stays between us, I don't see the harm, myself. Just like everything else
we do. Only those in the know are in the know."

"Er, about that," Harry said, glancing toward the other blonde in the room, the one who had
been thus far very quiet, "I might've called Lavender my slave a couple times last night, in
the Common Room. Might've, uh, shagged Ginny out in the open and ordered Lavender to
clean us up."

Ron's eyes rolled as Hermione slapped a hand over her eyes, "Might have," the ginger asked,
shaking his head, "or you did plow my sister in front of everyone?"

"Er..."
 Inter-House

PLEASE STOP going to Pa Tree On! They have been censoring the story considerably, and
you CANNOT find the full content there. SubStar's the best place now. Same tier system, too.

If even one in twenty people that read this supported me on Sub Star Adult at any level, I
would be able to easily continue focusing on writing more... and you could read more. I'm
going to keep writing anyway. But the pace would be and will be a lot faster if you can spare
a few dollars monthly. My lowest tier isn't even a small drink at a theater. Is it worth it to you
to get this kind of content twice a month instead? If so, then please support me.
Of course, you can ALSO find more of the same stories there. Most everything here
(including FwB, PoW, and TaL) are posted here at least a week after the lowest tier's delayed
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Oh, and DISCORD! H tt ps : / / discord . G g / N9yDA8t6Cw

Chap. 57: Inter-House

"It was amazing," Ginny gushed, suddenly almost quivering with excitement, "Started in his
normal chair, right, his favorite? Then I stripped down to my skirt- you know I don't wear a
bra anymore- and did a dance in front of everyone. By the time it was done, I was ready to
take him then and there, but he made sure we had everyone's attention before I climbed onto
his lap and started riding him. Gods, it was so great! I've not felt him that hard often, I can
tell you!"

Hannah blushed and asked, "But he's always so hard, what made it- er- how hard can it get?"

"With Harry?" Lyra said knowingly, "very, very hard. There's erect- like now- and there's 'he's
so excited he can barely contain himself' hard."

Hannah blinked, her mind going back to an earlier night atop the greenhouses, well after
dark, and smiled, "Oh. I see what you mean, yeah. Okay."

"Anyway," Ron said casually, "Hermione and I are going to work on homework, in our
bedroom. If you guys want to join me, I'll-"

"No," the witch said with a frown, yanking her hand out of his, "I want to do it out here.
Homework, Ron."

He seemed confused, "Yeah, that's what I said."

"I don't mean- don't mean sex," Hermione hissed.

Ron blinked. "Neither did I, love. I actually meant homework, believe it or not. I think
McGonagall's right, and you're right, too. We really should be doing better."

Once he was quiet, the entire room was silent for a long time, until Ginny asked, "Who are
you, and what have you done with my brother?"

Laughter quickly ensued as Ron blushed, but he grumbled good-naturedly as he, being the
good sport he was (usually), went into the bedroom he had mentioned, the same one
McGonagall had taken the Slytherins into a few minutes before, and brought out both his
own and Hermione's much heavier backpacks. "This," he pointed out, "is why I wanted to go
in there. I'm breaking my back just lugging it out here!"

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms, "Are you saying I'm stronger than you, Ronald?
Because I carry that bag every day, all day we have classes."

Again, more titters flew around the room. Harry sent Lyra a quick mental message, catching
her eye, and then cocked his head toward his bedroom door. She nodded, and he told the
group, "I'll have to catch up later, sorry. Can't leave our guests waiting while I do five pages
of work."

"Bring them out," Hermione offered.

"Sure, if they want to," Harry replied, "But it just looked like Daphne wanted to talk."

No one protested as he entered the bedroom to find the two Slytherins both standing near the
foot of his large bed, fully clothed and stiff, almost as if they were at attention in a military
outfit. Lyra, far more relaxed, strode over to the small sitting area and sat down, gesturing for
the two human girls to join them, "Come on, no need to stand there like logs."

"She's right," Harry said, smiling in what he hoped was a disarming way, "Unless you both
have to leave right away, you may as well sit down."

The two Slytherins shared another glance, then looked over to the Succubus, and to each
other before Tracey gave a little, barely noticeable shrug. Daphne nodded just as faintly, then
turned to Harry, "Thank you, Mr. Potter. We'll do that," and led the way over.

Harry held seats out for them both, though there was plenty of sitting room between each of
the wicker chairs and the low table between them, which already held a tea set that was
currently empty. "Dobby," he called, and looked to the beaming elf as he appeared, "Could
you bring us some tea and biscuits?"

"Yes, Sir, Harry Potter, Sir!"

With two faint pops, the elf was gone and back, and they watched silently as the teapot lifted
into the air under the direction of the elf's waving fingers, pouring piping hot brown liquid
into each of the small cups before popping away once more.

Lyra leaned in at once, sipping at her tea with relish, and Harry reached for his own too
before either of the Slytherins so much as looked at theirs. "Why would I poison you?" he
asked after they continued to hesitate, "I've got no motive, remember?"

Tracey sighed, then reached forward, her dainty little hands scooping a single cube of sugar
and putting two teaspoons of cream into her cup and stirring before taking a sip.

Daphne took up a cup straight, but didn't drink from it regardless. Instead, she only sent a
cool, appraising eye toward Lyra. "You are the Succubus, I take it."

Lyra didn't respond, only leveled the exact same sort of look at the 'ice-queen' and took
another sip.

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. They hadn't exactly told a great
many people about her existence, though these two were among them, but he wanted to know
how she'd deduced it.

"It wasn't hard to figure out," Daphne said, finally looking at him again, and set down her
cup, still untouched, to tick off a few fingers, "New abilities, new powers, new attitude, and a
new student, all showing up more or less at once? And you told us about her. This way she
can simply operate more openly instead of having to remain hidden all the time. Not to
mention the rumors I hear about her in broom closets."

"Most of which are not true," Lyra pointed out, "I've actually only been in... three broom-
closets in my time here, whether openly as Lyra or not. But yes, I am she. Two of those were
with Master, for the record."

The third, he thought, might have been Ron, but he wasn't sure. She might have sucked him
off before he had lost his virginity. Maybe. Frankly, he didn't care, unless it was someone
else. Mild curiosity was all there was if so, however.

"Why have you been ignoring my notes?" Daphne suddenly asked, looking directly at Harry,
"I have news you need to hear."

Harry blinked, "I haven't been. And what 'notes'? I got told I missed you on one night, that
you brought one but wouldn't leave it with Ron. I was meeting with the- with someone else at
the time, and couldn't be here. He said you'd be back to deliver it later."

"And that next night, you were not here," she reminded him. "Instead, I find the room open-
it allowed me inside the common room without question, for some reason- and as I looked in
all the rooms, including this one, there was no one present. I left the note there, on your
dresser."

Harry looked over, following her gaze, to find that there was, indeed, a sealed envelope on
his dresser. "Oh. Sorry, yeah. I stayed in the Gryffindor Tower last night. I can't be down here
all the time, it would make people suspicious."

"Suspicious of your Succubus," Daphne clarified, stating more than asking.

"Well, of what she might be, or what we're doing," Harry acknowledged with a nod.
Finally, Daphne reached down to take another sip, and one golden eyebrow raised, "This... is
actually quite good."

"Dobby used to be a Malfoy elf," Harry told them to explain his 'good training', "before I
tricked Lucius into freeing him. Now he works for Hogw- well, he used to work for
Hogwarts. Now he works for me."

Tracey Davis broke her cool exterior for the first time outside of sex, and grinned almost
cruelly, "I shall have to hear that tale one day," she said quietly, then almost shrank into
herself as she realized she had spoken out loud.

"It's pretty funny, if I say so myself," Harry said with a smirk, lifting his own half-empty cup
in her direction and smiling, "not too long, if you have a spare few minutes. But we may as
well get on. I have homework to do, apparently. What is it I can do for you, Daphne?"

She glanced at her girlfriend again, who nodded once, looking strangely resolute. Daphne
herself took on an almost resigned expression for a moment before looking next to Lyra,
"You are sworn, I take it, to keeping your Master's secrets?"

"Of course," Lyra said at once, "I wouldn't be a good servant otherwise, would I?"

"I suppose not," Daphne said quietly, then sighed, turning her attention back to Harry. "Part
of what I wanted to speak to you about is to arrange another... evening in your company. For
the two of us, but... but separately."

Harry's eyebrows rose, "I... that... we can do that, I'm sure, but... why separately, if you don't
mind me asking? I was under the impression you two were..."

"We are," Daphne said, looking pained, "but Tracey wants to... experience something new.
She says she... that she trusts you. She wants a night with just you and herself. I... I told her I
would allow it, and she said I must do the- the same."

Harry, for his part was quite confused. The first time he'd had sex with anyone, on the night
he'd Summoned Lilith, he had lost his virginity with a Fog of Lust addled (and apparently
already randy) Daphne Greengrass in the Library, of all places, quite late at night. She
certainly hadn't complained then, had begged him to do it in fact, but he had still felt guilty
after learning she was a lesbian, and in an established relationship. Then Tracey on the train
at the start of the year, when Daphne had urged him to do what her girlfriend asked, and take
her virginity, too? They had only come to visit him once more, together, since then to help
'reduce Tracey's value to her future husband's family', and to 'give Daphne practice for their
future contract'.

But this?

This was weird. On both of the occasions he'd been with Daphne Greengrass, she had been a
bit nervous but quite into it. Why was she suddenly so nervous about it now? And Tracey,
who was terrified of having to be with a man at all, yet was strangely okay with Harry, no
matter that he still hurt her with his size the second time? Why did she want some alone time
with him?
"I'm willing, and able, of course," Harry eventually said, "but I'm a bit confused as to your
reasons for wanting to do it alone. You don't have to answer now. But I'll want answers on the
night in question. Unless you want it to be tonight?"

The girls shared a glance again, then looked toward him once more. This time, it was Tracey
who spoke up, just as quiet as ever, but with a certain steel in her voice he had not heard
before, and certainly not expected, "I would like to be tonight. Daphne may be after, or at a
later date."

"As she says," the blonde, normally the one to speak for them both, agreed with a nod,
sipping at her tea again.

Harry closed his eyes, thinking quickly about what the others might say. The soundproofing
was considerable between the rooms, he knew, and silencing charms would finish the job if
needed, but they would suspect something anyway. Likely, they were already wondering if he
and Lyra were giving the two Slytherins the time of their lives, promises to put homework
first or not. Could he skip out on the night's fun, leave it to the others, and entertain Tracey
Davis instead? Certainly, he decided, and it might even be fun. Ron might not like him being
alone with a Slytherin, but he would deal. Harry wasn't scared of any of them, least of all
these two or Pansy. They had proven their loyalty, even if Ron didn't want to admit it.

In fact, Pansy had literally sworn oaths to obey him, and Ron had witnessed those, on the
night she'd gotten her first set of Runes. Oh... is that what this is about? Did Pansy mention
the Runes to them? Hm...

"Very well. I can certainly accommodate both of you tonight if you wish, whether alone or
together," he said formally, knowing that Daphne at least preferred to make things at least
official sounding for her own peace of mind, "But before I engage in any sort of, as Professor
McGonagall would say, 'frivolity', I've homework to get to. Hermione and I both wanted to
invite you to join us, I think we're actually working on Transfiguration and Potions tonight."

As both of the girls were N.E.W.T. levels for the two classes, he hoped they did actually join
the group. It would help, he thought, remove some tension between them and Ron, who was
still the most nervous to be around them. "I would appreciate that," Daphne said, "but first I
need to return to the Slytherin Common Room and speak with my sister, and perhaps
Parkinson."

"You can call her Pansy," Harry reminded the blonde, "remember, she's my friend, too." He
waited a beat, then added with a grin, "Even if it still feels strange to say it."

Daphne's mouth quirked up into the faintest of smiles, one quickly quashed, smashed down in
fact, into a frown, "Nonetheless, I prefer formality between Houses. It is safer, if only to keep
us from... having a slip of the tongue."

I wonder how she likes Tracey's tongue slipping on... nah. I'll wait to ask her that alone, he
thought, but made sure to forward the message along to Lyra, who grinned, then stood up and
stretched.
"If you two don't mind," the Succubus added, "I'll be showing you what I actually look like
tonight, too. I feel like Master trusts you enough for that. I can participate or not, at your
discretion. I'm plenty entertained enough by the lot outside if you prefer not. Good evening,
Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis."

Then she strutted from the room, giving Harry the perfect opportunity to watch Daphne's
eyes fix very firmly on the sway of her skirt and rump as it passed. Daphne's face even heated
a bit doing so, but more as she realized Harry was watching her stare at his Succubus' arse. "I
know, it's pretty spectacular," he told her with a smirk, "and believe me, she likes it when you
look."

Even Tracey cracked a small grin as Daphne turned deep scarlet and looked down toward the
teacup in her lap as if it was the most interesting cup in the world. "I would like to be with
her too, at some point," Tracey admitted, "but not this evening. I will not object if you do,
Daphne."

That did not help her girlfriend's blush, nor did it diminish the tiny girl's grin of triumph.

"Alright, well, I've got to get on with homework. You're welcome to join us or not, as I said."

"May I use your loo, Potter?" Tracey asked suddenly as she stood, Daphne, still blushing,
following after.

"Of course. Just that door there, you remember."

Once the girl had given him a polite nod and murmured her thanks, she disappeared behind
the door, giving Daphne the chance to step very much into Harry's personal space, even
pressing her chest into his for a moment, then lean up to whisper into his ear, "I worry for
listening charms. Tracey already knows this. Nott, Theodore Nott, has not been in the
Common Room for five days. Nor classes. We suspect he is the one who took the Gryffindor
girl."

"Vicky?"

"Frobisher, yes," Daphne nodded, "There is more. You know Malfoy is gone. Nott had been
making moves to gain control of the other Slytherin students, but now that he is gone there is
a power vacuum, one being taken up in part by Corvus Montague."

"He never did take the oaths Milly suggested, did he?"

She shook her head, "He did not, all summer long. We can't trust him, and- and we feel like
the other side knows we have aligned ourselves with you. He would have told his father, who
is a Death Eater as well. He was also out of the castle on 'family business' approximately a
week ago."

"Shit," Harry murmured. It was getting hard to think with her pressed against him, the smell
of Daphne's perfume and shampoo were intoxicating as well, but he settled only for putting
his arms on her waist and leaning in a little more. He had to control himself for now, "Are-
are you lot safe in Slytherin? Do we need to talk to Dumbledore about getting you separate
quarters, like this? For all four of you?"

"Four?"

"You two," Harry said, knowing she would understand that to mean Tracey as well, "your
sister, and Pansy."

Daphne blinked, "Not Milly?"

"If Milly wants to go, then yes, of course," Harry said, taking one last look and pulling away.
She hadn't resisted his touch, but had not leaned into it, either, which Harry took to mean it
was time to let go. She was clearly not interested in casual intimacy, even if she had been the
one to whisper to him first. "But she seemed to want to take care of her problems a little more
confrontationally before. We could also get- wait, no, Warrington graduated, didn't he?"

"No, he's a Seventh-Year," Daphne said, pulling back a bit further and raising her volume
back to normal, "but he can definitely take care of himself. We- we can extract him if he
wants, but I don't think he will. He is one stepping into the vacuum."

"Hm. Alright."

That was when Tracey stepped out of the bathroom, and she and Daphne exchanged knowing
nods. "I will go get my books with you, Daphne," she said softly, then stepped out into the
other room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Harry deliberated for a moment, then nodded to himself. There wasn't really much of a
choice. "Can you and the others, the four or five or even six of you, share a couple of beds
and maybe the couch for a night or two? If you need to, you can stay here from now on, and
we can go back to using the dorms in the Tower. That'd be, well, four beds after some
cleaning, and two couches, the loveseat. Two loos."

"That- that is a kind offer," Daphne said after a moment, almost stepping back in her surprise,
"but no. I would appreciate it if you would speak with Professor Dumbledore about the
matter. I understand you have his ear. But as for tonight... yes. Yes, I think that would be best.
As long as Astoria does not interrupt our... activities."

"Don't want your sister to see us? She knows already, you know," Harry teased.

Daphne blushed again, running a hand through her hair to push a few locks behind her ear,
then glaring up at him, "That does not mean we should advertise it. She would understand
why, but there is no reason not to be discrete."

"Hm. Alright. I'll talk to the others while you go get your books. Unless you'd like one or two
of us to escort you. Invisibly."

She raised her eyebrows, "I was aware you had a cloak, but how many of you have access to
that?"
"Oh, just me," Harry admitted, "but only myself, and maybe Ginny or Lyra- shrunken a bit-
could fit beneath it at once. But Ginny doesn't need it, Hermione can cast the disillusionment
charm, and Lyra can be entirely invisible at will as well."

"Ginny... Weasley? Ronald's sister?"

Harry nodded, not feeling bad about revealing that secret to Daphne. It was strange, perhaps,
how much he trusted her, but he did. Entirely, he realized, and still felt it was justified. She
was in great danger if people found out she was sleeping with him, but that was not why. She,
for all her formal behavior, seemed quite sincere in wanting Voldemort gone, and while she
admired and looked to the 'old ways' and 'tradition', she was not so hidebound as to be
unwilling to listen and learn. There was more to it than that, though, even if he couldn't quite
put his finger on it. Something... deep, profound. Almost like his trust for Hermione, or
Ginny, or Lyra.

"There are two layers of Runes that Lilith can give," he explained, "Rune-sets drawn in
sexual fluids, in the language of her kind and imbued with magic. It has to be human fluids,
not her own, but they are... effective. Increasing stamina, strength, pleasure... there's a lot you
can do with the first set. The second set is more... complex. It requires a far more powerful
ritual, but it can give the one who gets them powers similar to a Succubus themselves. Ginny,
well, she can turn invisible because Lilith can."

Daphne's eyes widened, though she had not seemed shocked about the concept of sex magic
or rituals at all, which surprised Harry in turn, though in retrospect he thought it should not
have. Samhain rituals, if nothing else, were well-known even in some parts of the muggle
world. "That is... interesting. Can I safely assume that others have undergone similar rituals?
Granger would not have, but-"

She fell silent as Harry raised a hand to his mouth and coughed.

"She- she has? Haah... I would not have guessed. Still... while I am not entirely unfamiliar
with sexual rituals, this is new to me. I would discuss it further, with your servant, if you do
not object, Potter."

"You can talk to her about whatever she's comfortable with," he said at once, "I only brought
it up because, well, Ginny. But now that I have, you might talk to Tracey about it. I know that
women can be more- well, experience more- in a night than most blokes can manage, but you
could enjoy each other's company even more if you wish to do the first ritual. Just putting it
out there, you don't have to accept, but the offer is open as long as Lilith is around."

Daphne nodded slowly, then asked quietly, "To clarify, you are saying it would make things
more... intense, and we would have the... the energy to do that sort of thing for... longer?"

Harry nodded, "That's exactly what I'm saying. They grow stronger with age and use, too, as
the magic seeps into you further."

"Interesting," Daphne said quietly, then shook her head, "I must be going to get my books
and... and my sister and friends. We would appreciate your servant's company to... look after
us if things go awry during our packing."
"Good, that makes me feel better. Let's go tell the others."

Outside, they found the group focused quite intently on their studies for once, with nary a
dropped collar or over-exposed bit of flesh in sight. More to Harry's surprise than Daphne's,
Tracey was bent slightly over Ginny's shoulder, her hand pointing down at the homework as
she explained some bit of Transfiguration that was giving her trouble. Huh. I know she got an
OWL because she's in McGonagall's class, but that's interesting, she really sounds like she
knows her stuff.

They had taken their double Transfiguration classes with the Slytherins every other year, of
course, but he had never noticed the slight girl standing out much in the class. Maybe she's
better at theory than the practical?

"Lyra, would you mind escorting these two back to their dorms, make sure they get there
safely? They are, um, going to pack up some things. They're staying here for a day or two. A
night or two, I mean. They, Pansy Parkinson, Astoria Greengrass, and if they want to,
Millicent Bulstrode and Cassius Warrington."

The entire group went still, for varying amounts of time, but no one aside from Ron gave it
more than a few seconds. Lyra stood up quickly though, leaving her untouched homework
where it was (she clearly did not care for grades regardless of the dressing-down, not being
able to cast the spells anyway), and hopped over to the two Slytherins, "Sure, Harry. I take it
you want me to escort them back, too? And not be seen?"

"Yep. Thanks, love."

"Aww," Lyra cooed, leaning up to press her lips to his cheek, "That's sweet! Master loves me!
Alright, two sexy ladies under escort. Let's go, bitches!"

"B- b- Bitches?"

Lyra laughed at Daphne's spluttering protest, "I mean it in the Yank way, duh! It's a
compliment! Come on, let's go."

Soon, the two were bustled out, and Harry turned a serious eye to the others, "We'll need to
use the dorms more. Milly and Warrington are a couple, so they need a bedroom if they start
staying here. Tracey and Daphne too. But Pansy and Astoria..."

"The dungeon," Ron suggested, "The bed in there is, uh, comfortable."

"I am not letting a thirteen year old girl sleep in a sex dungeon," Hermione hissed, slapping
Ron's knee rather hard.

"No," Harry laughed, "She can sleep in my room."

All eyes went to him with some shock, "I, er, I meant I'd take the dungeon. Perverts! Also,
she's fourteen, she just got into the year a bit late. I think."

Astoria was two years below them, but Harry only then realized he didn't actually know how
old she was. He dimly remembered her saying it when she had been pulled, freezing, from
the box that had been mailed to Sirius' new house, but in the hubbub and time since, he had
completely forgotten it, as well as her birthday. Sometime just before summer, he thought.

"We'll let them choose their rooms," Harry said, "but this space, the common room, is for us
to use as it was intended, with or without them. We'll have to see about getting more couches
or chairs, though."

"Can't believe a bunch of Slytherins are moving in," Ron muttered, shaking his head, "but at
least they're mostly alright. Astoria's actually a lot like you, Gin, and Pansy's... Well, she's a
good shag."

"And she might be willing," Harry reminded them sternly, "but only if she's willing. Don't be
taking advantage of her... tendencies. And keep it on the down-low for Astoria. I think she
knows more than she lets on, but I don't think she's ready to know what we get up to,
sometimes."

"Or all the time," Neville said, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

Harry supposed, in a way, it wasn't. "Yeah, that. Uh... Dobby? Can you help me move my
things over to the dungeon? Then maybe pop down to Pansy Parkinson's room, in Slytherin,
or Tracey Davis or Daphne Greengrass' if she's not there, and help them pack their things if
they want it? Maybe move them up to the bedrooms here?"

"Yes, Sir," the excitable elf reported, clearly overjoyed to be called upon not just once, but
twice in one night, and to be given so much work to do.

Harry, for his part, put off his homework a little longer to go into the dungeon and scourgify
the bed several times, then strip the sheets and fluff up the pillows as he had once done for
Marge Dursley before she visited his relatives. Now, it was to serve himself, and whoever
would be staying there. Normally, the House Elves did the deed quite well on a daily basis.
He was already done, and a new elf, a random one he had not met before, delivered more on
his request (and how had he not known you could do that until this year?) and even put them
on the bed for him, making it perfectly without a single crease, before disappearing with
another quiet pop.

"Shit," Harry muttered to himself, having just realized something as he turned around,
looking over the rest of the room where the swing, the voyeur's couch, the sawhorse, the
pillory, and other toys large and small filled the large space, easily twice as large as his own
bedroom. "Am- am I really gonna sleep with Tracey and Daphne in here? Fuck, I should've
thought about this before agreeing to do it tonight..."

He didn't have time to move everything. Shrinking it would help, and of course Dobby would
be able to help. Perhaps he could hide it all quickly enough, but he was busy helping the
Slytherins pack. Winky... well, frankly, he didn't want Winky to know what went on in the
room. It was bad enough that Dobby knew, but at least he understood something about the
'bro code'.

Winky would keep the secret, he had no doubt about that given how she had reacted about the
Crouches, but he didn't want the little creature knowing about all... this. He didn't feel shame
about it, of course, but he thought of her as strangely innocent, and felt like the sordid details
of his life might embarrass her in some way. "I suppose they'll just have to see it," he decided
after a few seconds, "I mean, if I have my way they'll be using them sooner or later. Maybe I
should make it clear they don't have to, though."

His dresser disappeared from across the chambers, only to startle Harry as it suddenly
appeared in the one empty corner near the foot of the bed. His trunk popped into view a
moment later, and only the telltale silence told him that it was Dobby, following his intention
and instructions without saying a word to Harry.

With a sigh, he resigned himself to trying to explain to the probably inexperienced girls
(aside from himself and each other) what they were for... and why they didn't need to (but
were allowed to) use them. The young wizard shook his head once more, adjusted himself in
his trousers for more comfort, then walked out into the common area again. "So, Transfig?"

Two full hours passed with little talking, aside from comments as parchment was passed back
and forth at the end and adjustments made. It was... less stressful than Harry would have
suspected, holding off from the sex he knew everyone wanted, yet it added a strange sort of
pleasant anxiety and hopefulness as they finished, each of their assignments even passing
Hermione's stringent assessments, while her own went around the room completely. But there
had been no sign of the Slytherins.

"Lyra, any word? Do we need to help?"

Her reply was a few seconds coming, which made Harry worry, but it was reassuring when
she did. "No, Master, we are almost done I think. There's some discussion of an ambush in the
common room, trying to stop the girls coming through, but they have more support than I
think those talking about it realize. It's just going to be Pansy, the Greengrass girls, and
Tracey for now, the others want to stay and keep listening. I should warn you... they made an
attempt on Pansy the other day. Four boys and a witch tried to corner her and rape her.

"She was not, for the record, Master. Put your rage away for now. There will be time later.
But she will need to talk to you in the next few days, when it is not so raw for her. Millicent
Bulstrode, Cassius Warrington, and one of the teachers interrupted them, thanks to
Millicent's help, before things went too far. And yes, they were punished."

"Not as much as they will be, I wager, Pet," Harry thought to her darkly, "I'll try and talk to
Pansy a bit before Tracey gets her alone time. Thanks for letting me know, love, and tell me if
you need help. I'm on a hair-trigger here."

"I really don't think it'll be necessary. There are two Elves, I think both from Millicent's
house, that have come to help pack things. We're mostly being slow to get the would-be
attackers time to finish preparing. We are as ready as I think we need to be, but they don't
even know I'm here. Well, the others don't, I made sure our side do."

"Excellent. I'll let the others know they are coming soon. See you in a bit. When will you need
a recharge after this?"
Again, the reply was a few seconds coming, "Honestly, Master, my reserves are running a bit
low, but I can handle another day or so unless there is a fight. If that happens, I will need it
tonight, possibly before your tiny little plaything."

"Alright. If that's what it takes, we can do a quickie while they settle into their rooms."

A feeling of pleasant anticipation and satisfaction washed through their connection, and
Harry grinned as Neville adjusted himself in his pants, only for his hand to be pushed away
and Hannah's falling there instead, "Nothing below clothes, just yet," he reminded them, "the
Slytherins will be here soon. Lyra says they're almost done, and it's about a five minute
walk."

"Oh, I forgot," Neville grumbled, glancing at his girlfriend, "Maybe we should go out to the
Greenhouses."

"Nah," Ginny told him, "Come up to the Commons with us, bring Hannah. No one will care
these days, you have no idea."

"Are you sure that's okay?" the Hufflepuff asked, glancing at the others.

"After the show she and Harry put on last night," Lavender said with a grin, "I doubt anyone
will care. Besides, Parvati brings her sister up to our dorms all the time. Speaking of... I kind
of have a meeting with her. I should get going."

"Something about making good on a promise from the other day?"

She grinned at Harry's question, then leaned in as she passed to whisper, "I'm going to lick
her so good, just like you taught me, Master... I'll get her ready for your cock when you want
her. I'm so glad you made me your slave... doing as you desire is the best feeling."

It was not anything he had ever expected to hear, but the words coming out of the beautiful
blonde's mouth made Harry's cock strain in his pants, as she giggled and then stepped past.

"Alright, well, I'll lead this lot up," Ginny shrugged a moment later after stowing her things,
"then, Harry my love, if you don't mind I'm going to sleep in your bed up there. Do you think
Lyra will want to give me some company?"

After sending a mental thought the Succubus' way, he grinned, "Well, sure, of course... but
don't you want to make sure Seamus and Dean are taken care of, too?"

"Of course I will, lover," she laughed as if it was a silly idea, "but you know I like a woman's
touch, too. Or should I just plant myself in your chair and open my legs for... well,
everyone?"

"Maybe later," Harry laughed, "the dorm is enough for now, you little slag."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she stood to follow Neville, Hannah, and Ginny, then pulled Ron
up, "Come on, Ron, he'll be fine. Harry doesn't need us to protect him." She paused for a
second, then looked up at him while stuffing her backpack to capacity once more, "Unless
you... want a go at the Slytherins instead? Pansy would probably be up for it."
Ron's blush betrayed his intentions, and for a moment, Harry had the feeling that Hermione
would protest, but she only grinned, "Mm... Well, have fun. I'll go see if Lavender and
Parvati want some company, I suppose. Or maybe..."

"No, go with them, Ron," Harry said quietly, "Pansy... I doubt she'll be up for much for a bit.
Something... happened. Give her some time."

Ron's face darkened, "Who do we need to curse?"

"No one, yet," Harry said quietly, surprised but very pleased by his friend's protective streak,
and of a Slytherin of all people, "but when we have names we will teach them a lesson they
will not forget. You have my word."

Ron was still scowling when the door opened without a knock. Warrington, who had not yet
been in the rooms, led the way, looking about with a hand on his wand, the others pulling
several shrunken trunks on top of a single full-sized one. Ron gave him a cautious nod, but
said nothing as he came in, still looking around. Daphne, Astoria, and then Tracey came next,
Pansy close behind them, her own wand in hand and looking over her shoulder cautiously.
Most of them, Ron only sent a look and nod to as he passed, not even one of caution or
wariness. But when he reached the last girl, Ron paused, giving Hermione a significant look,
then turned to face her fully. "Parkinson. Pansy. You know we've had our... differences. But
you don't deserve to be attacked. If- when- you're ready to tell us who, we'll show 'em better.
You have my word."

Her eyes, along with several others', widened at the declaration, but Ron didn't wait for a
reply before following his girlfriend out of the room. The last words they heard before the
door closed were, "That was... very nice of you, Ron. Thank you for telling her th-"

Harry, suddenly the lone Gryffindor again, aside from Lilith, who was still invisible behind
the others as her clothing disappeared slowly into the ether, gestured, "Larger bedroom. Used
to be mine, but any of you can take it. I was thinking Astoria and Pansy could share that
room, if they don't mind, to give the couples the smaller bedrooms. I'll be taking, the, er,
other room. That one's the loo, and the larger bedroom has a private one. Warrington, I'll give
you permissions to come in as long as you're with one of these ladies, or one is inside and lets
you in. Same with Milly. That fair?"

He nodded, but frowned a bit, "Since me and Milly aren't moving in, I don't need a couple's
room, Potter."

Harry shook his head anyway, "The room I'm taking is still the biggest. All the beds are
comfortable, but that room has the largest bed. We can switch it for two smaller ones, or
Pansy and Astoria can share, I don't care."

The younger witch didn't think anything of the comment as far as Harry could tell, but Pansy
sent him a rather rude glare, one that promised words later. "I don't mind sharing," she
chirped up, "I'd share with Harry if he didn't care."

"That is not appropriate," Daphne announced loudly.

"Which is why I said I wouldn't do it," Astoria said with a teasing grin. Harry couldn't help
but smile, clearly the younger sister still knew how to needle the older.

"I agree with Daphne," Harry said to appease the older blonde, "but I really don't care what
you guys do as long as there is no fighting over it. Cassius, you can stay if you want, same
with Milly, the offer stays open. If you need a room, you have one. Might be a couch for a
night, but we'll make it work. You will also see my other friends here. You might see them
in... embarrassing situations. You will be discrete, same as we will be. Simple enough rule.
Oh, and Hermione has a new one I agree with- no sex until your homework is done."

Astoria giggled, turning scarlet, and looked around the room until she realized that, while the
others had all pinked a little, none of them were laughing. "Wait... wait, wait waitwaitwait.
You... you've all... you've all done it?"

"Yes," her older sister rolled her eyes, separating from the group to move toward the left
bedroom, "Tracey and I will take this one. And yes, Astoria, we will be having sex! Probably
every day! Grow up."

The younger witch raised her hands placatingly, still beet-red, "I- I wasn't saying you can't, I-
it's just... I thought it was... occ- occasional. Or something. Aside from, you know, your..."

Harry noted her glance in his direction, but said nothing. Daphne huffed, "Yes, yes, sure, tell
everyone all about how I will be Potter's concubine next year, sister. In detail, please. Leave
nothing to the imagination. At least he has some discretion! Yes, we have had sex, and will
again! It is not that big a deal!"

Astoria, to Harry's shock, suddenly looked more devious than embarrassed, and replied, more
quietly, "Fine. I'm just a little surprised, geez. I suppose I shouldn't be after the last few
months, but I was. So Pansy and I are taking the big room, then?"

Harry shrugged, "That's what we expected, there's more room for two beds if you want to
change. We might even be able to squeeze in some curtains or a wall. Come on, let's leave the
others to put their things away."

Pansy and Astoria each grabbed their own trunks from atop the larger one, and followed
Harry into the room, leaving the door open while they claimed corners for their things. Harry
left them to it, and was surprised by Cassius' low, deep voice getting his attention as he left
Daphne and Tracey's new room without any trunks, which meant they had four between
them, far more than Pansy had brought, or Astoria. Odd, since he knew Pansy had more than
one as well. "Potter, I take it your friend told you about Pansy's... attack?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, she did. No details, but if you know something..."

"I have ideas, nothing more," he grumbled, looking into the more well-appointed bedroom,
"Listen, I know you and Pansy are fucking. It's fine. I trust you, maybe more than I've a right
to, but after meeting you for real this summer you've been straight with us. It's not a common
trait in our House, but I appreciate it. If I get something concrete, I'll tell you. I expect the
same. Just... just be good to her, when she's ready, okay?"
"I will," Harry promised seriously, "She's one of us. In ways you might not even know."

For a moment, he thought he might have to explain again, but Cassius just nodded after
several seconds, then started walking toward the door, "I'll see you 'round, Potter. They don't
suspect me too much, I think. Or if they do, they don't dare come after me. Milly's probably
safe for a while yet, too, since she's a sixth-year and has her ancestry if nothing else. But we
might need that protection sooner or later anyway."

"We'll be ready. I'm talking to the Headmaster about getting you guys more permanent rooms
anyway."

"Right. I'd better get back. Night."

"Night," Harry repeated.

A few seconds after the door shut, Harry heard his name from the large bedroom again.

Pansy was standing there, looking a little lost, but already wearing a nightshirt with a silk
robe closed over it tightly. "Thank you," she said after giving him a long look, then gestured
around, "For all of this. For... being there."

"It's the least I could have done," he told her, meaning it, "and like Ron said... Lyra told us a
bit. When you want to identify who they are, they will pay. That is a solemn promise. No one
will touch you without your permission while you're here."

Pansy nodded, and turned away for a moment, "I have been... more aroused lately. Without
satisfaction. I almost let them."

"I'm glad you did not," Harry told her, "but I've said it before. You only have to be here. We
won't force you, but we know what the Runes are like. Neville, Hannah Abbot, Ron,
Hermione, Ginny, and Lavender Brown all have them, too, remember. If you ever want
satisfaction, just ask one of us. We'll find a way, because we understand, and all of us have
the ability to do it."

"I'm not into women," Pansy reminded him firmly, "Which is why I do not want to share a
bed with Astoria."

"You don't have to shag her," Harry reminded her softly, "she's still young, after all. But when
you are ready... aside from tonight, my bed is open. You know that."

She nodded. "Soon. I want to be taken again."

"We'll find time when you are ready."

Pansy frowned, then looked at him directly again, "I am ready now Potter, but... but I am
also... not. I'll... I'll find my fingers again, once Astoria is asleep."

Harry, though, had a brilliant idea. "Wait... no. Well, do that if you want, I'm not going to stop
you, but after I've, um, taken care of Tracey and Daphne's needs, I might have an idea for
you. Not sex, unless you really do want that, but something to help."
One of Pansy's eyes widened, the other narrowed, in a look that made her seem somehow
crazed. "What... what do you mean?"

"There are things," he said quietly, "in the dungeon, remember? I can show you how some of
those work. I think you'll enjoy them."

After a few seconds, Pansy nodded.

Just then, the door to the loo opened and Astoria, clad in a robe with nothing beneath it as far
as Harry could tell, stepped out with wet hair, "All yours, Pansy."

"Thank you," the older witch murmured, then stepped past the younger with a final nod
toward Harry.

He did not expect Astoria to shut the door. Nor did he expect her to come up to him and press
her slight body against his in a powerful hug, resting her head below his chin. "Thank you,
for the he- the doctors," she whispered quietly, "They have an idea. Treatments, I'll begin
next summer. They are... they said it was hopeful."

"I'm glad," Harry replied back quietly, "Does Daphne know?"

Astoria shook her head, "Nor our parents. I didn't want to get their hopes up if it doesn't...
work. But I have hope, something I haven't had in a long time."

"Okay. I respect that," Harry told her, "but now that you know...?"

Astoria nodded again, pulling back slightly to look up at him, "I wanted to tell you first. Your
godfather knows, but only because he was there. I have another question."

"What's that?"

"Why haven't you... included me? I... I've seen you. Looking at me. This summer."

He blinked, genuinely stunned and shocked. "You- you really don't know?"

Astoria shook her head, looking both shy and nervous, but determined too.

"Because you're... I know you aren't a child," he said after a second, "But you aren't an adult,
either. This... this thing we do, it can... be weird. Strange. I won't, not until I think you're
ready."

"I am," she shot back quietly, "ready. I wanted to... when I saw you this summer. I didn't
mean to, but I saw you, and your... creature."

Harry nodded. So she did see us. "Her name is Lilith. Or Lyra, this year."

"I know," Astoria replied just as quietly as before, "but it... seeing it... excited me. More
than... anything else has. I want to be part of it. With- with you."
"That's part of the problem," Harry told her, stepping back. It was too distracting to feel her
against him while talking about this, "it's not 'with me'. It's with us. And you're fourteen, you
shouldn't be so eager to jump into-"

"I am fifteen," she told him, "as of last month, and I only have so long left to live, remember?
Unless these muggle doctors can work a miracle against a magic curse that has inflicted every
second-born of our House for three centuries. I am hopeful, but I am also a realist. I don't
want to die without... doing that."

Harry nodded, truly contemplating what she was saying, then leaned in and tilted up her chin,
then bent to press a relatively chaste kiss to her cheeks. "Yes, I have looked. You're beautiful
too, you know. Any man would. But I can't just... bring you into our world without you
understanding what that entails. Which would require breaking oaths, or the permission of
several people, one of whom is your sister. If you can convince her, we can talk about this
again. Okay? Until then... I'm sorry."

"They don't have to know," she tried, "Just... sometimes. Once or twice, maybe, when... when
we can. Please?"

The almost whining tone in her whimper made Harry hesitate again, but he shook his head,
"I'm sorry, I can't. I've said why. Maybe that will change one day, but until the others agree...
I can't. Good night, Astoria."

"Good night, Harry," she said softly, sounding a bit more sad than he had ever heard from her
before, as he shut the door.

Now, Daphne and Tracey's door was open half-way, and he heard the two talking quietly as
they moved things around. He walked closer, glancing in once before knocking, after seeing
the two not touching, and both dressed in the same things they'd been wearing before, their
uniforms. "Mind if I come in?"

"No, of course not," Daphne said quickly, "These are your rooms, are they not?"

"No," he said after stepping in, leaving the door as it was, "they are yours, until you have
better. What, did you expect yourself to have to be at my beck and call while staying here?"

The shrug Tracey gave was small, but told him enough. He frowned, shaking his head and
leaning against the frame, "That's not how I am, or the others. If you want to have or be with
one of us, say so. We won't turn you down. But we won't force you. You might want to knock
before entering the commons, we might forget others are staying for a while and be, uh, a bit
occupied if you come in. If that doesn't bother you, then don't bother. We won't care. Don't go
into my room without knocking. The new one, obviously. But we won't force our company
on you."

Daphne nodded, looking to Tracey, "I told you."

The smaller girl only shrugged, "I am nearly finished, if you will wait a few minutes for me,
Mr. Potter," she said, her voice as quiet and soft as ever.
"Sure. I can help if you'd like, or wait outside."

"Perhaps outside would be best," Tracey said after a moment, "As Daphne has yet to put
away her more intimate apparel."

"Tch," the blonde sounded, but said nothing, only pinking slightly as she turned to look
pointedly away.

Harry only grinned, "Ah, fair point. I'll be outside then, Tracey. Remember, you don't have to
do this."

"I am coming to you," she reminded him pointedly, "I desire you."

"A- Oh. Okay. Well, I'll be in the commons. Er, reading."

She nodded in acknowledgment, and he left to sit down. But it was Daphne who came out
first, to take a seat on the couch next to him, sitting demurely as ever. She didn't look at him,
but after a few seconds of silence, she said, "Until you, Tracey has never been with another
man. You know that."

He nodded, "I remember the train."

Daphne mirrored his action, more firmly, "She has also not been with one since. She is... too
shy to ask. But she does want her price reduced."

"Does... are you asking me to tell the other boys to ask her?"

Daphne blushed, looking down at her twisting hands, which were white-knuckled, and
nodded. "I... I do not want her to be with them. It is hard enough, even if... arousing... to
watch her with you. But she does not want to give her family the satisfaction, and does not
wish to reward her... possible future spouse."

"And you?"

"What of me, Potter?"

"You say you prefer women, and I believe you," he told her quietly, glancing toward the
bedroom door, which was shut, "because I can see how you look at Tracey. But you... if I'm
honest, I don't think you want to be with me simply for the contract."

She blushed, looking away again, "I... there are... a few men I have... fantasized of. Before...
before the library, it was only you. Now there are a few. But I yet dream far more often of
Tracey."

"Okay. Thank you. I stand by what I said, then. If you want to be with the others, ask them.
Ginny loves licking pussy, and she's very good at it. So I've been told. Hermione or Lyra are
happy to do so as well. Or one of us blokes even, all three have had extensive practice, lately.
Even Hannah might be willing. If you want. If not, there is no pressure."
Before she could answer, the door of the bedroom opened once more, and Tracey came out,
clad in a robe even smaller than Astoria's had been, though it covered about as much on her
smaller frame. "I'll- I'll let you two have your fun," Daphne said, casting one last, longing
look at her girlfriend, and going into the other room, shutting the door behind her.

Harry looked up at, or over really, at the short girl he would soon have naked in his bed, and
found himself... not exactly shy, and for a moment he thought it was strange that he wasn't.
But desire had long overridden any sense of performance anxiety he might have had, and he'd
been with this girl twice before. The only difference this time was that it would be just them,
privately.

And he could do that. Harry stood, offering Tracey a hand, which she took after a moment's
hesitation. She was blushing when he rose from the gentle kiss to her knuckles, but she did
not hesitate to follow him into the dungeon.

She paused just inside the threshold, but that was not an uncommon reaction, he knew. Not
for long, however. "Interesting," she said softly, "I will have to explore this, if you don't
mind, Potter, at some point. You are... more imaginative than I suspected."

"You have no idea," Harry said with a chuckle, then continued leading her over to the bed.
There were no more questions, he was sure of her intentions, and both knew what was about
to happen. She did not protest when his hands fell to her waist from behind as they stopped
between the couch and bed, nor did she question why it was positioned there, facing the
mattress. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders as he leaned down over her, letting the robe fall
open around his hands, then to the floor as he let go briefly, before he pulled her body taut
against him, with his hard cock following the curve of most of her spine nicely. "You smell
divine," he murmured, leaning in to smell her hair, which had the odor of jasmine and, he
thought, frankincense.

"Thank you," she whispered back. "You do... not have to be gentle. I am ready."

In response, Harry trailed his fingers down around her right waist and rear, down the cleft
there, and between her legs. She was, indeed, sopping wet. "I think I'll be plenty rough later,"
Harry told her quietly, "but for now, I'd like to enjoy you, if that's alright. I'd like to show you
that men are not only about getting their dicks wet. Can I please you, like Daphne does?"

He felt Lilith's presence enter the room, and spotted her child's body, only roughly the size of
his lower arm, flit through the closed door, insubstantial, to rest on the couch. She would be
watching, he supposed, but Harry didn't mind. In fact, showing his teacher in the sexual arts
how much he had learned might be fun. Harry's hand between Tracey's legs pushed her thighs
apart, and she obliged, giving him access to her folds from the rear. He fondled the little
creases gently, enjoying how slippery she was with arousal, while the other moved to caress
Tracey's cheek and jawline, drifting slowly downward as it traced symbols and lines down
her bare flesh. She, too, wore nothing beneath the robe.

"You want my cock?" he whispered.

She nodded, giving him a little whimpering sound of need as a reward.

"You'll have to be patient," he told her, "show me how much you want it."

Tracey tried to move, to turn in his arms, but Harry held her still by throwing the arm that had
been teasing her around the girl's chest, flattening his hand over her right breast and giving it
a firm squeeze. "Ah, ah. Not yet. I'm not done showing you how much I appreciate your
willingness to be here," he told her. "You said I can please you, and I intend to. Stand right
here. Don't move."

She did as his hands came away long enough for Harry to undress, and this time as he
stepped up to her, Harry's cock did actually hit her spine, and slid up and down it a few
inches, the only part touching her.

"It's warm," she whispered, "hot. Your c- cock..."

"You'll feel it plenty later," he reminded her, "don't move." Then Harry reached around to
touch her chest again with the same hand, using the moistened, now sticky fingers to flick
over her cunt from the front now, then back around to the rear and up again, playing with her
softly. "Tell me how that feels."

"Good," Tracey murmured, "it feels good, Po-"

His hands came off her body at once, "Harry."

"It feels good- Harry," she gasped.

He touched her again, and she jumped as, this time, one finger slipped into her body from
below and started twisting slightly, bending as it stroked in and out twice, the other moving to
tweak her nipple. Then he added his lips to the mix, kissing down her tiny little shoulder and
back. Tracey shuddered, but did not move. She did whimper again, which made Harry's cock
throb as it grazed across her tiny, firm arse. He worked his fingers faster, then added a second
to her depths, and started moving faster still as his other hand moved to the girl's stomach,
holding her just above her clit. "Do you want to cum?"

"Yes," she whined, voice strangely husky and low, "yes!"

"Good. Cum on my hand, Tracey," he told her, "Whenever you want. I'll keep going until you
tell me to stop."

She did not start right away, Harry could tell, but the moment she did, he felt it as his hands
were nearly crushed in the vice-like tightness of the little twat as it shrank and vibrated
around his fingers. Tracey did not otherwise move much, but he felt her vaginal walls seizing
around him, and more lubricant suddenly washed over him. Once her first orgasm had
passed, Harry lifted her up by folding his arm around her waist and stepping twice to lower
her onto the bed with her legs hanging down. "Stay there," he repeated, then sank to his knees
with his broad hands splayed over her back and rump.

He already knew her pussy was small, even compared to the rest of her, and as tight as the
truly child-like Lilith that Dean preferred, but he was not prepared for how much fluid leaked
from her soft pink folds. It ran down her legs in a torrent, even still, and as he watched her,
the lips of her quim quivered. Harry grinned, and leaned in, running his long tongue up her
left thigh, closer and closer to her cunt, only to pause when he reached the other edge. He
flicked the long member, stretched out to impossible length, along the crease of her leg for a
moment, then switched to the other leg, repeating the long lick upward. "You taste amazing,"
he told her after reaching her cleft again, "I can't wait to fuck you with my tongue."

"A- Aaaah!"

The member protruded from his mouth by four inches and was irrationally rigid as he pushed
it in, penetrating far more than any normal human could reach. The mulberry-wine flavor of
her fluids was even more intense, and for a moment Harry was worried he could actually get
drunk on it, for that was how slurping at her from within Tracey's delicious vagina felt. He
reached up with his thumb to diddle her clit for a brief moment, which was all it took for her
to climax on his thrusting, probing tongue. This one was longer, and more intense, but Harry
didn't stop licking or thrusting with his tongue until it was over. Then he stood up, glad the
bed was at the perfect height for him, and pushed his long erection against the girl's body.

It looked like it rose, literally, past the half-way mark on her torso at this angle. "Feel that,
Tracey?"

"Yes," she moaned, giving a little squirm and even reaching back with her hands to pull her
cheeks apart.

"Feel how far in that's gonna go?"

"Yes," she moaned again, louder.

"But not yet."

She whimpered as he stood up again, then back once.

Tracey looked over her shoulder at him, the normally clam and placid expression vanished
into a haze of very confused lust. "Why? Please, Harry put it in me!"

"I will," he responded at once, "but first... I went down on you. Your turn."

She rolled over, squirming slightly on the bed, to perch at the edge of it. "I've never..."

"I know," Harry told her, "but do it anyway. Please. I won't make you, Tracey, but I really,
really hope you do."

"You are for me," she whispered, then leaned in to kiss the tip.

Harry sighed, he was throbbing, aching with need, and she was teasing him. But slowly, the
petite girl's hands together almost closed around his base, and she looked up at him, her soft
brown eyes strangely hungry. "You are for me," he told her, smiling faintly as she grinned at
his tip, then opened wide. Her tongue darted out, licking at the little hole on the end, her eyes
still locked on his. Then she pushed down, and Harry groaned.
She would never be able to get in more than his head, he knew. Doing so would probably
cause her real injury, unless he shrunk down to a more normal size. But Tracey went at him
gamely, her head bobbing perhaps a half-inch further, her cheeks bulging as the lesbian's
skilled tongue proved its worth, swirling around his head. "Gods, Tracey," he groaned,
"that's- that's really good..."

She pulled off him enough to whisper, "You are for me, I am to please you," then pulled his
head into her warm mouth again. But now, her hands began to stroke him up and down
together. If he were honest, her technique was sloppy, her hands too small to really give him
much friction, but Tracey's oral skills, even focused on his head alone, were intense. As well,
seeing her there, her tiny body on her knees and reaching up to service him with her mouth,
was enough to make Harry groan again. He wouldn't be able to cum like this easily, and she
would likely get tired first, but he could cheat. Because he really wanted the tiny girl to
swallow his load. "Swallow it," he urged the girl, using the magic granted by his spying
companion to urge his orgasm on almost frightfully quickly.

Without further warning, his cock pulsed in Tracey's little hands, and a veritable torrent of
jizz splashed and splattered against the back of the girl's throat. She winced and almost jerked
back, but Harry held her there with one hand, keeping just the tip of him in her mouth as he
unloaded. After nine powerful spurts, her mouth was swimming, drowning in his cum. Harry
pulled away reluctantly, then reached out to close the girl's mouth with his hand. A few drops
leaked out when her lips closed, the pressure too much to hold it all, but she obeyed the silent
command. "Swallow it, slowly."

He felt with his hand on her throat, and watched as Tracey obeyed, keeping her eyes on him
even when they began to swim with lack of oxygen as she swallowed again and again. He
lost track, but estimated it took her probably twenty gulps or more before she could open her
mouth enough to take a gasping, gargling breath that sent a spray of his cum over both of
them. "Sorry," she murmured, looking down, a bit ashamed.

Harry only grinned, "That was one of the hottest blowjob endings I've ever had. Did you have
fun?"

Tracey shrugged, blushing a little, "I... I feel as if it was too much. That you could not enjoy
it."

"Well, I did cheat a bit to finish quickly," he admitted, leaning down and pressing his lips to
hers, not caring about the cum that covered them still any longer, and using his mass to push
her back onto the bed, "because I didn't want to hurt you, but if you want we can do more
later. For now, though, I believe I promised you a dicking."

Tracey whimpered, as Harry aligned himself without looking, and pushed in gently, taking
his time.

Once he was hilted, he grabbed her thighs and lifted them to his chest, holding them there as
he scooted back to the edge of the bed again, already losing his mind at how hot and wet
Tracey was. Far wetter than either time before, it was no longer painful to be inside her, but
he still made his cock swell again, making Tracey moan and writhe without even moving
otherwise. "See that, Tracey? See how deep in you I am? You're bulging."
"Circe," she whispered, soft brown eyes growing wide, "You're huge..."

Both watched raptly as Harry pulled out, and the swelling his rod made on the tiny girl's
stomach, well past her bellybutton (for again he'd driven straight into the womb, though this
time it didn't seem to hurt her at all), receded to just above her slit, before it came back up
again as he pushed inside once more. "Shit," Harry gasped, his body trembling in time with
hers, "I forgot how- how good it feels, being in you, Tracey."

And it did, better than before. The second time, like the first, she was a borrowed 'home'.
This time, not because she was more wet, or more used to his size, for he was much bigger
even, but she was more home. Still not his, not entirely, but as if he had been given not just a
place to stay, but a place to live, rent-free. Like she had given herself to him, or maybe
Daphne had, for as long as he wanted her. Forever, he knew, as he started stroking faster.
Even though he'd just climaxed, Harry already felt another one coming on, and hard.

The elven girl had already been shaking and bouncing along the sheets with every thrust, and
the sheer tightness of her cunt around his huge dick was enough to drag her back to the edge
of the mattress on the downstroke, but when he climaxed, she did too, her lithe form arching
up from the bed in a way that made it hard for him to tell if it was from the force of Tracey's
orgasm, or his cock bodily lifting her from the womb up. It didn't matter in the end, he
supposed, as the now long-familiar bliss of climax made his brain foggy with pleasure while
he collapsed over her, actually sated for once, and just aware enough to catch himself on his
elbows.

Harry found himself looking down at the girl's almost plain but still quite cute, girl-next-door
freckled appearance, framed by a short wash of hair that was now fanned out roughly on the
bedspread below her. Tracey's soft eyes were half-lidded while she gasped for breath, her
body still shivering and trembling beneath him, mostly around his cock, which was still hard
but slowly softening with release as his copious seed dripped out of her around him. But what
most captivated Harry at that moment was not the pleased, shagged-out lust in her eyes that
wanted more even though she knew she couldn't handle it. Even the peace and contentment
he found there.

No, it was the girl's lips. Lips that he knew only Daphne had tasted since she was a small
child and might have kissed her parents like only a child can.

"Can I...?" Harry didn't know how to finish the question. It was so simple, so basic compared
to the intimacy they had already shared that it seemed almost foolish to ask now.

She could not possibly have known what he was trying to say, he reasoned a few minutes
later, but somehow, Tracey nodded faintly, gently, and closed her eyes. Her mouth opened
slightly, and he was awash once again with the taste of his semen on a girl's breath, but it was
not a put-off. It was intoxicating. Not even arousing, though there was an element of that, one
he set aside for the moment. But he had marked her in another way most thoroughly by
planting what might as well have been a literal gallon of his cum into her body through either
the mouth or vagina, and could have, now that he thought about it.

That single nod was enough for Harry though, spellbound by her complicit desire as he was.
He lowered his head, and their mouths touched briefly, lightly, just grazing over each other
really. Then again, harder, with more passion, until Harry found his hands curling in her hair,
pulling her further toward him, their tongues not just dancing but doing cardio too, as if
kickboxing or whatever the latest exercise fad was while moving quickly between his mouth
and hers. Something else, something besides fluids of saliva or semen passed between them
in those few seconds, but Harry could not name it. All he knew was that after he shrank his
penis back to more of a human size, closer to what he'd started with at fifteen before
Summoning Lilith, and pulled it out of the girl she was just as much his home as Daphne's.
He belonged inside her, with her, and she belonged with him... and Daphne, too.

He did not see the need to explain it, for Tracey seemed to know already. She had, after all,
been the first one to say that he was 'for her'. Instead, once he was finally free and the cork of
his flesh let the evidence of his pleasure rush out of her with an audible squelch and bubbling
sound for a few seconds, Tracey put her own little arms around his neck and lifted her head to
kiss him again. "You are for me," she repeated seriously, "you'll father my children."

"I will," Harry heard himself say, "but not with a contract. Because you want me to, and I
want to. You are for me."

Tracey suddenly smiled, the most brilliant smile he had seen in months, perhaps ever, and
nodded once. Then she lowered herself back onto his arm. "I am tired."

"Okay," he said, and pulled away smoothly, then lifted her into his arms, still nude, with total
ease. "Will you grab her clothes, Lilith?"

The diminutive, invisible creature nodded, floating down on wings even he couldn't see to
pick them up while she grew to her normal, child-like form, as nude as she preferred to be
herself, and followed him out into the common area. The fire was banked low now, everyone
had either gone into their rooms or was asleep. There was no light coming from his former
bedroom, but a faint line of yellow below Daphne and Tracey's door helped him find it, not
that he couldn't see well enough with the low fire, too.

He knocked once with the arm under the girl's sleepy head, and a few seconds later, a
nightshirt-clad Daphne opened the door. Her hair was down, without any adornment that he
could see for once, nor did she wear earrings or makeup, or anything beneath the gown.
Seeing her on almost full display through the sheer fabric was enough for Harry to
immediately change his mind about going to sleep, but he had a more pressing matter to
attend to at the moment. "Tracey said she was tired," he said by way of explanation.

"I am," the small girl replied softly, snuggling against him for a moment, then twisting to land
gracefully on the stone floor, completely shameless of her nudity or the fact that rivers of his
cum were still running down her legs and between her cheeks. She leaned up to kiss her
girlfriend for a few seconds passionately, but with a great deal more tenderness than she had
with Harry. Once she was back on her feet again rather than toes, she whispered, "He is for
me," one more time, and then stepped past her to the bed, where she immediately lifted the
covers and slipped into them, heedless still of the mess and trail she was making. "Good
night, Harry, Good night, Daphne. Love you."

For a moment, Harry thought she might have even meant him in that second part, but he
couldn't be sure.
 Greener Grass
Chapter Summary

OOPS, it's late, but good news- see inside!

A/N:
Hey, you guys like reading this stuff? Want to join a small but growing community of readers
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CHAPTER SPECIFIC NOTES: Oops? Not really, I'd always intended to take the 13th off
to focus on TotK. But hey, that's done. This is me catching up (quite late). You're getting 2
chapters today, and the 27th should post as normal (if a bit late in the day). Yay!

FURTHERMORE, be aware: I accidentally deleted like 10 chapters of the 'Edited' stuff

from my beta (it was in a different file, but...). If there are weird formatting issues, it's from
the recovery. Feel free to point them out! I'll fix them ASAP. :) I believe the last of those
chapters is 67.

Chap. 58: Greener Grass

Daphne's own bemused expression as she turned back to look at him made Harry shrug,
"Don't ask me. She's... I don't get it, either. So, er... did you still want...?"
The taller girl's eyes rolled as she caught him looking down at her body through the
nightshirt, but she turned into a more provocative stance, "Why? Are you unable to resist,
seeing me dressed like this? Unlike Tracey, I find it too cold to sleep in nothing at all. And
entirely improper."

Harry shrugged, "To each their own, but no. I just remember you saying you wanted some, er,
one on one time."

Daphne gave him a measured look, her eyes darker and more mysterious in the low
candlelight she had been using, as if the azure they had in brighter surroundings had turned
almost violet, or even darker. Then she nodded, "In your room, I suppose. Let's not disturb
her."

"Alright," he agreed, turning and leading the way.

The door shut behind her, and his after that, before he heard the pureblood girl ask, "You
truly have no shame, do you?"

Harry smirked, turned, and gave her what he hoped was a confident grin. "Why should I?
And what are you asking about? Me bringing your girlfriend to your room smelling of my
seed, or asking if you wanted to be next, or the toys in this room?"

"I was actually referring to your nakedness walking around," Daphne said with a sniff, her
eyes looking toward the pillory before moving to the other, larger furnishings, "Have you...
used all of this?"

Harry shook his head, "No, not most of the smaller toys. We, not just I, have tried out the
swing here, the sawhorse, the pillory, and the X-frame. Of course the couch and bed have
gotten a lot of use, too."

Daphne seemed almost fascinated by them, and rather than go toward either the bed or couch
as he had thought she would, she moved around the room, examining each item thoroughly,
including the dildos, straps, whips, and shackles on the shelves and racks against the far wall.
Then she went back to the pillory, and gestured, "This has magic on it. More than
containment. I can feel it."

Harry's eyebrows rose, "You can feel magic? Hermione can see it, it's pretty cool, but I don't
know how that works."

The blonde's eyebrows rose, "Granger? That is... impressive. Most talents like that- and make
no mistake, they are talents- come about through long magical lineage. I can... feel the tingle
along my skin. The... the vibration, the heat or coolness of it, tell me that it is... sensory? But
that is only a guess, I've never felt anything like it."

Harry nodded, "That makes sense. The- the two people we've had on it seemed to have a very
heightened sense of pleasure."

"Hm. And the... never mind. I am not sure I want to know."

"The sawhorse," Harry told her anyway, "I haven't any idea. We've only used that for one
person, and she was... a special case."

Daphne's raised eyebrow told Harry that the matter was not dropped, that she would hear the
story eventually, but she turned away from it and back toward the couch. She trailed one
finger along the back of it as she circled the furniture, still present months after he had re-
conjured it. "You... the group of you watch while others are intimate?"

Harry shrugged, "Is that so weird? You all watched Tracey lose her virginity."

Daphne sighed, looking a little lost and tired herself as she finished rounding the couch and
sat down on it on the right end, near the headboard of the bed. Her left leg was twisted
beneath her. It was the least lady-like pose he'd ever seen her take, outside of sexual activity,
but he pushed aside the view it gave him between her legs to join her. Lilith's mention of how
people took height differences as a sign of power still rang a little hollow to him, but he didn't
want to make Daphne uncomfortable. She was already out of sorts, even if he couldn't figure
out why. Aside from the obvious, anyway. "But yes," he said after a few seconds of silence,
"It can be fun. We don't always just do it in front of other people, but after a while the... the
inhibitions sort of fall away. As you get used to it, you realize there's no need to be worried
about what others think so much. They've already seen you doing it anyway, so... what more
harm is there?"

"You have seen... Weasley and Granger? And they have seen you and the... younger
Weasley?"

Harry nodded. "Not even a month after we- after the library last year- Ron, Hermione, and I,
and Lilith after that, decided we would just be in an open relationship... with each other.
Ron's not my boyfriend, but Hermione is both of our girlfriend, and Ginny is mine.
Lilith...well, being a Succubus, she's basically shared around, because that's what she wants.
Hannah Abbot in Hufflepuff is Neville Longbottom's girlfriend, and that's the... main group, I
suppose. There are others who have participated in some of our rituals that I mentioned. Two
others have Runes from the first ritual."

"May I ask who?"

Harry grinned at the polite question. Daphne seemed to be insatiably curious, almost like
Hermione, but tried to hide much of it behind a layer of genteel conservatism that reminded
him almost of the antebellum south in the 'States. At least, as it was depicted on the Dursley's
telly. "You can ask, but I can't say. Their business, after all. Just like I can't say who it was
that used the toys over there."

Daphne nodded once, as if expecting that answer, then looked over at the bed. "I will assume
the same level of discretion will continue to be applied, then."

"We've been over this," he reminded her, "I don't shag and tell. Well, within reason. The core
group knows most all my secrets. You weren't shy about telling them you wanted alone time.
They can figure it out."

Daphne sighed, then nodded. She was, he just noticed, carefully avoiding looking at him. "I-"
She was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, a moment before Lilith walked in. Daphne
blushed scarlet at seeing the Succubus for the first time, since she had been invisible when
dropping off Tracey's clothes. "Master, I've just told Tracey in a dream what I was going to
tell them before. About me, some of the things I can do. Would you like me to tell Daphne
now? Or do you just want to get on with the fuckin'?"

"The- the fu- oh my," Daphne murmured, her eyes widening in further shock as the Succubus
walked around the couch as shamelessly as Harry had.

His own eyes moved back and forth between them, reminded not for the first time how
similar Tracey's figure was to the Succubus' like this. "She's sexy, isn't she," he asked.

Daphne spluttered, coughed, and then turned away from the rosette to stare at the bed. Or she
would have been, if her eyes weren't tightly shut.

"You can look, Master and I don't mind," the Succubus said with a little giggle, "in fact, I like
it. Master likes the little ones, too. This form is for him, after all. When I first got Summoned,
before I even took shape, I read him. I knew exactly how he most wanted me... like this."

Still blushing at the teasing tone, even though Harry knew full well she was serious, the
blonde eventually did open her eyes and let herself take in the Succubus' body. Lilith even
gave her a little pose, mirroring what Daphne had done to Harry earlier, turning half-way to
the side and pushing her rear out. Only this time, once she was done, she grew larger, nearly
doubling in height, as her scaly carapace, horns, wings, and tail grew out. When she spoke
again, Lilith's voice was also a little huskier, deeper, "This is my normal, actual appearance,
but I normally look like what you just saw when Master is around. Just to prove to you that I
am, in fact, what I am."

Daphne nodded, her mouth open and eyes staring unflinchingly at the statuesque, alien, yet
gorgeously alluring figure of femininity. Which vanished quickly, replaced by Lyra, still
starkers, "Of course this is how I've looked this year," and then down to her usual small self.
"But again, Master, and you, like this form the best, so I'll stay here for now. Let me explain a
few things about what I can do..."

For about ten minutes more, the Succubus cock-blocked Harry by giving the Slytherin a brief
run-down of the first Rune-set's capabilities, and how she customized it for each person to
highlight their desires, and how it bonded those who received it to her Master, and therefore
to her. Daphne had more questions about the second Rune-sets, though.

"Wait, so you're saying we would... what, become part-Succubus?"

"No," Harry answered, having heard the same explanation before, "I sort of am, being the
Contractor, but no, you just get a powerful bit of her Essence. Remember, for all she has a
physical body she's not a physical creature in the usual sense. She is a creature of spirit.
That's more what she gives us, I think, mixed in with our own Essence, through our fluids."

"Yes, very succinct, Master," Lilith said with a nod and smile. "Of course, neither you nor
your girl need to get those Runes. Even the first set aren't necessary, but Master is offering
them both if you want them. Of course, getting both requires... certain oaths of loyalty,
enforced by the Runes themselves. Not that he doubts you. Nor I, for that matter. It is just the
way things are."

"You want to Mark us," Daphne whispered, her eyes wide in sudden worry as she stared at
Harry, "Just like... we'd be trading the Dark Mark for... whatever you call yours."

"I suppose you could look at it like that," Harry murmured, "but no. There's nothing visible,
for one thing, and I can't control you or make you hurt through it, can't summon you. The
only real similarity is that it would... let you into the 'inner circle', I suppose. But there's a
cost to that, too."

"I'm going to go feed, Master," Lilith said, shifting back into Lyra and growing her 'uniform'
back as she did so, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze as she passed. "Oh, and Daphne...
when you want a romp with me, just say so, hmm? Any form you want... you could even
have two Traceys at once, if she's up for that."

A few seconds after she was gone, Daphne asked, almost whispering in her anxiety over it,
"What... what other costs?"

Harry knew that this was going to be a make-or-break moment for her, at least as far as the
second set of Runes went. He thought that between him, Tracey, Hermione, and Ginny, and
maybe Pansy or Lavender, they could apply the first set adequately for the pair of lesbians.
But the second set... "We can probably manage the first set with me being the only male. I
assume, and tell me if I'm wrong, that you're both okay with that. The second set... it requires
more. It's more stringent. You can still have mostly females, but... everyone else who has
gotten that set has... not given up their preferences. I still won't shag Ron, and he me, and so
on. But we've... lost almost all the rest of our hang-ups. It's not a cost really, but it's... further.
A lot further. We... we share around amongst ourselves a lot."

He didn't want to just tell her the Weasleys were now giving each other oral sex. That might
turn off someone new to the whole thing. He also didn't want to tell her, yet, that he could
change form, or that Ginny could become so invisible that no one but he or Lilith could see
her. Or whatever Ron's power had become. But she had to know there were... consequences.

"So... you are saying that if Tracey, or I, got those more powerful Runes put on in the second
Ritual, we would... have to be with... other men?"

Harry shrugged, "No, I don't think so. Again, it doesn't override your preferences. At least it
hasn't in us so far. Lilith says it doesn't, and she's never, not once, lied to me. I don't think she
can. Lying to others is easy enough, but not to me. You might want to more. I don't know.
You might think about it a bit more. But... for the girls...? That's probably a given. You would
be sharing yourself, almost certainly, with Ginny, most likely also Hermione, and... the other
two with Runes, plus Hannah. Hannah is pretty straight, but she's learned to enjoy having her
pussy licked by just about anyone who'll do it. She goes down pretty well too, from what I've
heard. But Ginny is the champ at that."

Daphne's one eyebrow rose again, "Your own girlfriend prefers women?"
"No," Harry laughed, "Ginny... is a special case. She literally likes any sort of pleasure,
whether giving or receiving it. She can be a top, or bottom, or be with a male or female, or
both. It doesn't matter to her, as long as she's making them feel good, and they make her feel
good. But as far as her talent, I can tell you she really is the best, aside from Lilith."

Daphne almost snorted, "And how would you know? You've only their word to go on."

Harry grinned, "Get the second Rune-set and I'll tell you how I know. I've been told I'm pretty
good too, but obviously, I can't compare."

Daphne sniffed again. The only time he'd ever put his mouth on her nethers was in the library,
when he had no experience and no training. "Adequate, at best. The last time- the first time- I
could tell you'd never done it before. I simply didn't care. I was about to explode anyway."

Harry felt a shiver go down his spine. "Er... I have to apologize for that again," he whispered,
realizing another make-or-break moment had come. This one might be even worse. The
consequences, at least for her and Tracey, could literally be lethal. But he couldn't not tell her.
"You... I should tell you... I... well, Lilith, before we did that in the Library? She, uh... dosed
you with something. It's one of her powers. Fog of Lust. It can only take existing feelings and
magnify them, but... I have to think you might not have, er, been so willing if she hadn't..."

Daphne looked at him, her expression neutral and guarded, for a long time after that. She
didn't say anything, didn't move a muscle aside from to blink and breathe.

The entire time, Harry wondered if that was a bridge to far. If telling her the truth had ruined
any possibility of them having even a cordial relationship, much less continuing with her own
contract, or she and Tracey staying with them at all.

"That explains a fair amount," she murmured, "but I was not lying when I said you were the
only male I'd ever fantasized about then. I... for a first time, it was... unusual, but not
regrettable. Thank you for telling me, you didn't have to."

"I feel like I did," Harry told her sincerely, "and I regret not doing so sooner."

"If you had," Daphne told him, her eyes suddenly piercing, though he didn't think she was
angry, "I would have been most furious. Even before the- the second time, in your old
bedroom. But now... after hearing all of this... I suppose if I had been in the same situation... a
virgin, fifteen, desperate, and unable even to be with a Succubus I'd summoned until I lost
that virginity? Well... it makes sense, at least. So... I suppose that I forgive you. Don't do it
again."

"Never," he shook his head, "Not unless you- you ask me to, or something."

Daphne nodded after a few seconds. Then, "For the record, Potter, I am glad you've learned
self-control since then. I'm actually impressed. I'm aware you were... with Tracey not that
long ago, but I was under the impression you would've ravaged me by now."

"Ravage?" he chuckled, glad at the topic change into something more comfortable. And odd,
wasn't it, that sex was suddenly the more comfortable topic. It was now familiar territory.
"Yes, ravage. I meant what I said."

"Do you want to be ravaged?"

She shook her head, rolling her eyes, "The Library was, again, adequate. With Tracey and
you in your room was better. But no, I think tonight I would not."

"Do you want me to make love to you?" The question was softer, more even, and Harry
watched carefully for any sign she might make in her body language or expression.

Daphne actually flinched, the first time he'd seen her do so in... maybe ever. "I... would not. I
do not love you, Potter, and I highly doubt you love me. But yes, I would... like more
practice. You are large enough to hurt, and I do not often have things... in me, that allow me
to stretch that particular area. Tracey is the one who prefers those."

Makes sense, given how easily she handles me, Harry thought, then nodded. "Alright. Well...
as you prefer women in general, I was mostly asking if you wanted some extended foreplay
before we get to it. But if you prefer the ravaging, we can do that instead."

Daphne blinked, turned a little pink, then shifted a little on the couch. "The foreplay, I think. I
am not sure about 'extended'. I am tired as well. As much as I would like to climax tonight,
sleep does beckon. But please, by all means, show me what you've learned, Potter."

"I'm confident in my skills," he told her gently as he shifted so that he was lying on the couch
face-down, propped up on his elbows. His eyes were level with the bottom of Daphne's chest,
where the tiniest bit of sag was visible on her otherwise large, firm breasts. She was, he knew,
one of the more well-endowed girls in their year, probably the school, with large D-cups that
held themselves up with a surprising firmness, capped with soft pink areolae and nipples that
just begged to be suckled. But Harry did not start there. In fact, he didn't even remain in that
position long before changing his mind. Instead, he sat back up and reached down to pull the
leg on the floor up to his lap, and turned his attention to kneading her feet.

At once, Daphne sighed, then took a long, shuddering inhale and another slow exhalation.
"I... I had not expected this," she whispered, letting her eyes drift closed.

"Should I stop?"

"Never," was the immediate reply, though she blushed again to admit it.

"I'll have to eventually," Harry shot back reasonably, "but you seem like the kind of woman
who gets tense in all sorts of places. I've been told I'm decent at this, if you ever want
another."

"Mm..."

She didn't say anything else as Harry rubbed her foot until the tenderness and ache she hadn't
known was present was gone, then let the foot return to the now shockingly-cool but not
quite cold floor, and lifted her body enough to present her other one. He chuckled as he went
back to work, and rolled her eyes without opening them when the young man murmured, "I
can see up your nightdress, you know."

"You've been ogling me for an hour anyway," she returned, "I hardly see the difference now."

"Fair enough. You're beautiful."

"I am aware, thank you," she replied softly. Didn't he have any idea how many people had
told her that over the years? How much money her clothing cost, the effort of her parents and
family over generations to provide for her the means to present herself as, well, what she
was? The high-born daughter of a Noble and Ancient House? How much time it took her,
personally, to properly apply makeup, to charm her hair to lie just so, and...

And...

My makeup is off. I am not really wearing anything at all, and my charms wore off two hours
ago. I... I must be hideous!

Daphne's eyes opened in horror. She could not, would not, be with anyone like this. Only
Tracey, her most trusted and closest confidant, the one she wanted to share her entire life
with, could see her like this, looking... looking like a plebian. But Harry was not looking at
her at all. Or rather, her face, her body. He was intent on her foot, where his hands still moved
gently but surely, kneading away tension and pain.

He can't even stand to look at me, she heard her mind say. I must be such a fright. No wonder
he wanted to do foreplay, he must- he must be trying to convince himself...

Her heart fluttered in her chest with a strange potion of anxious fear and worry as Harry
eventually let his hands still a moment before sliding up her long calf, his eyes following the
curve of her legs and higher, taking in every detail of her without... without...

A quick glance told her he was quite aroused, for his member was tumescent, nearly purple
and throbbing just past her foot. She could just bend her ankle and touch it, it was so close,
and it radiated heat against her skin even with an inch or so separating them. But it was
Harry's eyes, when she caught them, that captivated her.

They did not show revulsion and horror, or disgust.

In fact, were she not devoted to a woman, Daphne felt that, in that moment, she might've
fallen for him. For Harry looked at her the same way Tracey did. Affection and desire warred
with the frustration both must have felt at her 'pure-blooded ways', the way she was brought
up to speak and act. Tracey, of course, was well used to it. They had been friends nearly their
entire lives, and the Davis family as a whole were doing their best, in the next generation, to
officially be considered 'full-blooded'. That is, if the father of Tracey's children and the
mother of her older brother, Samuel's, were wizard-folk of at least half-blood status. Sam, she
knew, had courted her once, before she was old enough to understand, when he had been
fifteen or so.
Fortunately, their parents had shown him a better way, because Daphne could not stand his
overbearing attitude toward women. Their society had been largely gender-neutral for
generations, as magic was a true equalizer, but some still thought that because he was a man,
he was better. Sam was among that group himself, and she pitied his future wife. Gretta, or
something. She didn't know or care, really.

But the way Harry looked at her, as if she were a goddess made flesh...

It made Daphne's skin tingle in a familiar way, one she had not felt for a man since that time
in the library, when, she knew now, she had been dosed up with what may as well have been
a love potion. She wanted him. She'd made love, or at least had relations with, Harry between
then of course, shortly after the school term had begun. That was pleasant enough, but she
hadn't... hadn't really wanted it. Acquiesced, taken part, yes. But it was Tracey that wanted
him more, at least it had seemed that way, for she had been more eager, and was the one who
had convinced Daphne that it might be easier and better to get used to being with a man
before they were expected to perform their duties to their families.

She had agreed, if only because Potter knew what he was doing (she suspected, anyway, after
the many rumors she had heard), and had treated Tracey well on the train despite the
strangeness of the situation. She wanted her lover to have at least one good experience with a
man before... well, she either became a slag for a year or two, or was given away to her future
husband. That line of thinking changed Daphne's mood almost completely, but did not erase
the arousal Harry was causing in her. "Tracey will sleep with anyone, until her betrothal is
canceled," she blurted out, "Including your- your male friends."

Harry blinked, his hands currently beneath her thighs, where they worked to knead away a bit
of tension there, too. One of her legs was behind him, the other again draped across his lap as
he scooted closer.

Part of her dreaded what would happen when he finished with her legs, the other part was,
she suspected, literally dripping with anticipation. It was a strange thing, to realize a man had
not only turned her on, but made her desperate with need for him, and all without a Succubus'
help. She thought so, anyway. There hadn't been the sudden increase in arousal, but a more
gentle, slower burn as more of her was ignited under the flames of passion. "I... "

"You don't have to," he reminded her, looking up at her eyes for the first time in a few tender
minutes, "It's just an option. I still think it's crazy, what she's trying to do, but if you all think
it's best, then we will help... sully her reputation, I suppose. But you and she are different. I
know you want to support her, but you don't have to do the same thing as her to do that,
unless you want to. For that matter... I feel like I want to be the one to 'sully her reputation'
myself. Tell her she doesn't need to be with the others, either, unless she wants to. If her
parents press the matter, she'll still be under my protection. Just in a new way."

Daphne nodded again, watching as his hands roamed higher, a scant few centimeters at a time
at most, and continued to circle her legs, working the inside, the out, front and back, until she
had to scoot forward and lean back on the arm of the couch. Then she threw her left leg over
the back, finally opening herself wide for him.
But Harry only smirked once more in that devilishly disarming way he had, then framed her
dripping sex with his hands, and took a long inhalation. "Gods, you smell so good," he
whispered, and leaned in to press a kiss, just one, a little above her slit. "But this will wait. I
know you're tired, but you still seem tense. What's really bothering you? If you don't mind
me asking, of course."

Daphne debated answering for a few seconds, but Harry's hands were now moving on the
outside of her hips, framing her legs, the tips of his fingers pressing in strangely, and
dragging with them more anxiety and fear as they withdrew. "Three things," she eventually
whispered. "Our safety, because Slytherin and therefore the Dark Lord definitely know we are
acting against him after today. What- what might become of me if I do decide to... take your
servant up on her offer. What that will mean, for me in particular. Tracey... I expect Tracey
will not mind so much. She has known this might be a possibility for some time. I worry that
I might lose her, that she will... find another. And I suppose four."

"What's the last one," Harry prompted, looking up at her again as his hands moved to her
sides. Not tickling, which she was glad for. She did not want that weakness known, especially
to him.

"That... that I will... grow accustomed to being looked at the way you are looking at me."

Harry's eyebrows rose together in surprise. "What? How's that? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to
embarras-"

"No," she said with a little giggle, and reached to take hold of his wrists, pulling him without
resistance until he was over her, then releasing him. "I mean with... desire, but... not like... a
thing to be had. I've changed my mind. Make love to me, Potter. Show me how you feel...
more deeply."

His head cocked in a way that reminded her of Granger as she struggled with some advanced
Arithmancy formula in their N.E.W.T. classes for a moment, then he grinned. "Oh, I see.
Alright, Greengrass. I suppose the foreplay can be put on hold."

But Harry didn't press himself into her, as much as Daphne was aching for it (and so odd that,
in itself). Instead, he reached up to curl one hand into her smooth, silky locks and leaned
down to put his forehead against hers, while the other moved up her side a little higher to cup
the outside of one of her breasts. "You really are gorgeous," he whispered, lips brushing oh-
so-faintly against hers, as if teasing her, "and I love seeing you so disarmed."

"What? I'm not-"

As he moved lower and kissed the top of her right breast, then the left, and then the very top
of the valley between them, Harry's eyes did not leave hers. She was distracted from the
realization that she was, in fact, helpless. Her wand was in the other room. But she did not
care. She just wanted him to keep doing that, to keep kissing her flesh.

Making her feel wanted, not just desired.

As his lips, drier and rougher than Tracey's but stronger and thicker, too, circled her left
nipple and pulled it into his mouth, she sighed once more and allowed herself to relax into the
cushions. It did not matter that she could not fight him off, she did not want to.

It did not matter that she was a lesbian, his tongue and lips and hands still touched her
delightfully.

It did not even matter that his member was long and huge and throbbing. She wanted it inside
her anyway.

She let him revel in her body for a few more seconds as her the fire in her abdomen continued
to stoke, before Daphne pushed down on his head, "Lower, Potter," she whispered.

"Yes, m'lady," he teased back, but left her breasts, which already ached and burned at his
touch, only to replace them with his hands as he returned to laying on the couch between her
legs, and lowered his head to her slit. "Your cunt is delicious."

"Don't- don't say that," Daphne whispered, embarrassed.

"Why not?"

He returned to licking her folds slowly, still mostly teasing her as much as she wanted him to
dive in and eat her out with gusto like he had the first time, while she contemplated exactly
what she had meant. There were several things, really, but a few stood out more prominently.
"I am a lady, we do not have c- cunts. We have..."

But every word that came to mind was just as dirty, just as inappropriate.

"I love your pussy," he teased again, licking it a little faster, and then pulling a hand from her
teat to run one fingertip through her folds opposite his mouth. "Your flower is opening its
petals for me, Daphne... your Cherry Blossom is about to bloom."

"Ch- Cherry blossom?"

He shrugged, actually blushing himself as he looked at her, tearing his eyes away from hers
for the first time in several minutes. It was strangely intoxicating to see him looking up at her
through the valley of her chest and from between her legs, but it was even more maddening
to see him staring there, at her most intimate places, with avid attention. "You taste like
cherries, or cordial. And it's a flower. Sorry, that was dumb, I-"

"My cherry blossom it is," Daphne declared, smiling widely. The image was childish, even
ludicrous, but it was also poetic, and she did love to see the little pink blooms... therefore, as
childish as the image was, the imagery itself was also fitting. "You can eat my cherry- er,
blossom- all you want, Harry."

Perhaps it was the first name. Perhaps it was her acceptance of a nickname he had come up
with on the spot, and regretted immediately. But Harry could only smile, still with his face
burning to match the heat radiating from her core, and lean down again.
This time, he sucked her clit into his mouth just as he had with her nipples, and lashed his
tongue across it slowly, then faster and faster until it was blurring inside his mouth. Two
fingers, then a third, delved into Daphne's folds, curling up against her. It was not exactly
foreplay, not anymore. Now he was fucking her with his fingers, ravaging her clit to use her
own phrase, with the express intention of making her climax around him.

It was a little strange to almost skip the medium intensity he usually did as a girl warmed up,
but something about her taking that nickname for her precious flesh had driven him wild. But
Harry still wanted to do this for her, to show her that he could perform at least 'adequately' by
her own probably rather high standards.

And stroking her g-spot while trying to suck and lick her clitoris from her body with his
mouth appeared to be enough, for in under thirty seconds Daphne was humping his face,
gasping desperately, her fists both curling against his scalp, unable even to grasp his shaggy
hair. "H- Ha- ha-Haarrryyyy!"

She didn't quite gush, but Harry still felt a few splatters of her fluids against his chin and nose
as he kept going for a few more seconds, then slowed to let her orgasm come down gently.
Once she was lying on the sofa again, Daphne immediately reached down to yank his hand
from her crotch and bring it to her face, where two of his fingers entered her mouth. She
smiled and hummed around his fingers, suckling them as she might a cock (if he dared do
that with her), and running her tongue around and between them. After she let go, perhaps
another minute in, Daphne gave him his hand back, "I hadn't placed it before, but you're right
Potter. I definitely taste of cherries. Delicious."

"I could eat your cum for hours," he told her, licking his juice-covered lips and pulling the
other still-slick finger into his own mouth as the other hand moved to cup her sex, pushing
against the whole thing lightly and moving it in little circles.

Her blue eyes brightened with amusement, "You don't have to keep up the foreplay, you
know, Potter. You can just put it in."

"But I want to," he shot back, "I love watching you squirm."

"Oh?" The suddenly coy look she gave him might have warned Harry that he was opening a
can of worms too many, but he did not catch it at the time. "Well, suffice it to say, I am
pleased with your improvement. You can do that more often. If- if your girls are half as good
as you, I'll permit them as well. Weasley, Longbottom... we'll see. At least that. I do love
having someone between my legs, and I suppose I don't have to be picky about whom."

"I'm glad to hear it," he chuckled, "Because I'll be happy to go down on you again."

"Speaking of," she whispered, glancing down his body, "I... can we hold off on the, er, more
traditional sex... a little longer? I'm curious, you see..."

"A trait I'd not have expected of you," Harry teased, grinning, "but what about?"

"I've never... well... being, well, the way I am, I... I've never wanted to, um..."
Her sudden shyness even after climaxing wildly on his face made Harry smile again as he
rose to his knees, his member shaking in the air a bit. "What, this?"

Daphne nodded, strangely shy.

"I'll allow it," he told her, "how would you prefer?"

She shrugged, "I... I've never touched one before. Like... that, I mean. Obviously we've..."

Harry realized it was true. They'd had intercourse twice now, and he'd eaten her out twice as
well (he had not in his previous room, that was Tracey's job), but she had never just...
explored him. "Ah, let's try this, then. You can do as you please until you're satisfied."

He switched positions, leaving his own right leg along the back of the couch cushions but
straight out over the seat, not hitched up, put the other foot on the floor next to hers, and
leaned back, using his arms to hold up his head to watch.

Daphne hiccupped slightly as he moved, her pussy and legs still glistening with his saliva and
her climax, but she reached out to touch his tip with a single finger, then jerked it back the
moment they made contact. "I can feel its heat," she whispered, eyes wide with amazement as
he bobbed, almost straight into the air, "but I always forget how hot it is to the touch."

"Like you," he replied, eyes moving down to between her own legs. "Both boys and girls get
hot when aroused, it's the extra blood flow I think."

"Ah," she whispered, "that would make sense. May I...?"

"You can do as you wish," he reminded her, "just remember that testicles are... easily
damaged."

Daphne's eyes moved down his shaft slowly, taking it in without touching him, until they
reached his base. He was nearly a foot long now, monstrously, even ridiculously huge, but
she didn't seem intimidated, even with his almost inch-and-a-half diameter. Instead, she only
stared and traced the details of the veins, of the ridges and folds, magnified with his size,
moving up and down it a few times with her eyes before reaching out and touching it again.
With a few fingertips this time, cool but tender, she explored the differences in texture
between his cap and the shaft, the line of discoloration Harry knew was caused by his
circumcision as a baby, faint though it was, and then the softer, more malleable flesh that
covered his testes, even lifting his scrotum a bit to look beneath it with sheer curiosity, and
rolling them around in her palm.

The entire experience, to Harry, was exquisite, yet Daphne didn't seem to enjoy it more than
on an intellectual level. Suppose I shouldn't be surprised, he thought to himself.

Then she wrapped both hands around his base, covering him more fully than Tracey ever
could like this, and slid her hands up. Without trying, she had reached the perfect level of
pressure, tugging on the skin just a little but mostly sliding over it until she reached the top,
and then back down.
Harry groaned without meaning to, his eyes shaking a bit as someone, anyone, finally
relieved some of the pressure that had been building in him since before he had even picked
Tracey up off the bed a few feet away. "Gods, Daphne... that feels really- really good."

"One day, perhaps I'll show you I have more skills than you might expect," she told him
softly, "but I have one more... thing... to..."

She licked his cap then, surprising Harry as he hadn't felt her move, and pulled it into her
mouth, running her tongue around it twice in an anti-clockwise motion. "Oh, shit," he gasped,
unwittingly pumping up into her mouth a little.

But Daphne didn't back away. Instead she moved with him, her hands helping to guide her as
she suckled a bit more. His own eyes opened to find her nearly cross-eyed as she looked
down his shaft at the base of him, where her hands still circled, and made another pass with
her tongue, then delved it just a little into the slit at the tip before letting him go, leaving
Harry panting. "Gods, I did not expect that," he chuckled.

Daphne blushed, lifting a hand to her lips and running a fingertip around her mouth in turn
while she looked away, slightly abashed, "Nor did I. I... it was not... as bad as I had expected.
You taste like, well, yourself and... Tracey, I suppose."

Harry nodded. The two women might be lovers, but he still thought it bad form to remind her
that he'd just had sex with the smaller girl, and given her a humongous creampie to finish it.

He was just as surprised as Daphne leaned in again, sucking him back into her mouth, and
then bobbing a few times. She got a lot further than Tracey could, but still balked at the touch
of his cock against the back of her throat, coughing twice as she recoiled. "You don't have to
do that," he reminded her gently, actually concerned for her.

"I... did... did Tracey?"

He nodded slowly, "Just the head. I... I might have cheated, she seemed to want to taste it, but
couldn't get... enough in."

Daphne nodded contemplatively, then looked up at him while her hands moved to stroke his
shaft again slowly, "One day I'll try again. I... I should like to have that experience at least
once, even if... even if it's distasteful. But for now, I believe we have waited long enough."

Harry grinned. "As you wish, my lady."

But Daphne did not climb atop him. He knew she preferred being on top in general, she had
said as much while mounting him the last time they'd been intimate.

This time, Daphne turned, rising to her knees and putting her elbows over the back of the
couch. "Ravage me, Potter," she whispered, her face burning.

He grinned again. Now this, this was what he was talking about. He loved, very much, the
slow tender love-making they'd been doing so far, but a part of him had known Daphne liked
to be taken sometimes, too. Maybe it was a holdover from when they had claimed each
other's virginities, but seeing her like this, presenting her body to him to be mounted like an
animal...

"My lady," he said one more time with a nod as he hastily rose then took up a position
standing behind her. He reached down to slide his tip over her lips, moistening it with her
fluids, and shrunk himself three full inches, though he kept the width for the time being. He
didn't want to hurt her, and this was about what he'd been at the first time as far as length
went. Maybe a little longer, sure, but not enough to hurt, he expected.

With his hands on her hips, Harry eased in despite agreeing to her command, letting her
stretch to accommodate him. Like with Tracey before, being inside Daphne was even more
welcoming than before, more home than it had been. He moved gently until he was seated
fully inside her, her rump pressed up against his legs and abdomen. Then he leaned over her,
wrapping a hand around her chest to squash one breast and grab at the other almost tenderly.
The other hand ran up her spine, making her shiver against him, to lightly circle her neck at
the collar. "Ravage you, my lady," he repeated, "I think I shall. You want it, don't you?"

He was nearly at her cervix, he could tell now by how her lovely channel narrowed and
twisted in her body, which meant his length was perfect for this. He would just be nudging it
as he pushed in fully once they picked up speed. Enough to bring her more pleasure, he knew,
but not any pain.

"I want you to fuck me, Potter," Daphne whimpered, her voice high and almost shrill, but not
very loud. "Please, fuck me. Use me to cum... use me like Tracey!"

"You belong to me," he told her, "not as my Concubine, though you're that too. You are my
lover, like you are Tracey's. Isn't that right?"

For a long moment, Daphne gasped and panted even though he wasn't moving in her, then
nodded, "Yes," she whimpered again, "I am yours."

"Okay. One ravaging, coming up."

She was apparently already pent up, for Daphne climaxed around Harry within a few seconds
of the first thrust, but he couldn't blame her. He was already twelve in, doing three or four a
second as he slapped his body against her arse, trying to pulse his cock with his P-T muscles
so that it throbbed at the bottom of each pump. He was reminded again of her desperation for
more in the Library, and for a few minutes as he hammered into her body again and again,
Harry contemplated the differences in her and her girlfriend. Tracey was quiet, reserved, and
soft-spoken, but more than capable of speaking her mind in straight-talk most of the time. In
bed, she said very little, but was still quite open and honest. Instead, she expressed herself
through body language and expressions.

Daphne, in sharp contrast to both her normal affect and her girlfriend, moved like... well, a
wanton harlot. She drove herself against him in equal measure, gasping and moaning his
name, along with more. 'More', in fact, was a word she said a lot. "Harry! Harry, give me-
give me more! More, I need more of you!"
Experience gained from Lavender, from Pansy, from even Ginny and Hermione, but mostly
from Lyra, told Harry that it would be okay to do what he did next. His hand moved from
Daphne's throat to her hair, pulling her head back so that her body, gorgeous and fit like a
dancer's, bent into a moon, then leaned down to kiss her passionately, upside-down.

Like with Tracey before her, the kiss, even heated and dazzling as it was, changed something
between them. When Harry pulled away, Daphne's eyes were open, staring up at him. "You
kissed me," she panted between thrusts, which had slowed as he distracted himself, "you- you
kissed me."

"I wanted to," he said back, then suddenly nervous despite still moving within and behind
her, "I- I hope that's okay."

"Again," she moaned, trying to twist herself further toward him, but that was all her spine
would allow. Harry obliged, leaning down again. This time, their tongues met outside,
dancing and twirling in the open air, before their mouths crashed together as harshly as their
bodies. This time, when he pulled away, she was smiling, eyes half-lidded. He let her hair go
then, if only to give himself time to think. Was there Succubus magic going on, here?

He'd felt more home with both of them already, but after kissing her and Tracey, it seemed
more... more intimate, more special, even sacred, to be with them.

Like with Hermione, Ginny, and Lilith.

They belonged to each other.

Am I falling for them? I barely know them. Is it even love? How could it be?

Soon, though, the mounting pleasure in his loins pushed out such deep thoughts, and Harry
began rutting faster, unable to stop himself from slamming home harder and harder, until the
couch was rocking off the floor a little, and Daphne was helpless before him. She took every
stroke, every pump, with the ardor of a professional, and still whispered or gasped his name,
still cried out for more, until she climaxed again, and a third time after that.

Harry reached down again, bent low to wrap his arms around her neck and chest again, then
lifted up while pressing down, arching her back again but in a different angle as she stood
before him now, her cunt eagerly accepting everything he was giving it, while her breasts
bounced, heavy and full, in small circles before them. Her hair flung side-to-side around
them, and Harry leaned in to smell it.

Arousal, something citrusy in her shampoo, and sweat, yes, but also...

He forgot what he was trying to figure out as he climaxed, bursting into Daphne with an
energy and lack of control he hadn't felt since that first night, first with Daphne herself and
then with Lilith. He did not remember pulling free or collapsing onto the bed behind him. In
fact, the next thing Harry was aware of was the woman he'd just been with stroking leavings
of his semen from his dick, which was still half-hard as it lay against his stomach, and pulling
a thread of it into her mouth. She looked up at him a little bleary-eyed as she savored the
flavor, then pronounced, "Yes, I can... please you with my mouth at some point. You taste...
acceptably. It was not as disgusting as I'd thought."

Harry grinned, "Alright. That... that was..."

Smiling coyly herself despite a renewed dusting of pink in her cheeks, Daphne nodded, "It
was... more than adequate. You are... quite skilled."

"Thanks," he chuckled. "I'm... gonna go to sleep, if you don't mind."

He was surprised, frankly, at how exhausted he was. Normally, with his Runes, he could have
sex well into the early morning hours, vigorously even, and wake up fully recharged after less
than two hours' sleep. But even with the effects of a meal he'd gotten by eating out Daphne
(and he still felt strangely full and energized, despite fatigue rearing its head), he wanted little
more than to sleep.

"Alright," she granted, "I'll just lay here a moment while I recover, then go to bed myself."

"Okay. Shut the door on your way out."

"Of course."

Neither said goodnight.

Harry was out too quickly, and Daphne, for all that she had intended to leave, drifted off so
subtly that she did not realize she was falling asleep until the next morning.

A next morning which came oddly late for Harry. A glance at his clock, newly moved in, told
him it was after seven, easily two hours later than normal to wake up.

But the warm body next to him was a bigger surprise. Neither he nor Daphne had gotten
under the covers, for the dungeon was always fairly warm despite its name. Crusted remains
of his seed still coated her thighs and pussy, but Harry didn't care. Once, the idea might've
disgusted him. Now, it was evidence of... well, them. That was it. Proof that, this time, for all
its energetic finish, they had, in fact, made love.

It was a strange thought, since she was a Slytherin and he very much a Gryffindor, but as
Harry watched her chest rise and fall, he realized it wasn't that odd. Pansy, when he'd gone to
her room to help her cope with the life-shattering advice he had given her (without intending
quite so large an effect) at the end of the previous year, they had made love too.

Even if he didn't love her.

It was still tender, caring.

And he did care.

Then again, there is more than one kind of love, too, Harry reminded himself as one hand idly
drifted over to rest on Daphne's taut stomach, then slid slowly upward, tracing his fingertips
around her right breast to the outside. The girl's breath hitched once, and she shifted slightly,
as a smile grew. "Tracey," she whispered, "feeling frisky? It's so early."

Before Harry could respond or correct her, the girl's eyes flew open to stare, strangely
terrified, at the ceiling. "I... I didn't go back," she whispered.

"No," he told her, cupping the breast fully now that she was awake, then leaning in to kiss
her, and then her nipple, again. "I don't think she'll mind if you explain."

"I promised I would," Daphne hissed, making to rise but not to push his hand away, "she
must've been scared..."

"I think she slept all night," Harry reminded her, "she was pretty worn out."

"Still, I... I... that feels pretty good, Potter, I... I should go. I must look and smell awful."

Harry looked up at her, kissed her nipple again, and then took along sniff. "No, you smell like
sweat and sex, and yourself, not awful. It's rather stimulating, actually."

The young woman's nose wrinkled in disgust, but she didn't attempt to rise again.
Emboldened, Harry switched to kiss her other side for a few seconds, then down her stomach
in a line to the girl's clit. She was already moist. "Do you want me to eat you out again,
Daphne?"

"Your- your stuff is in there," she told him, eyes wide as she looked down her body at him.

Harry only shrugged, "Wouldn't be the first time."

He didn't ask again, and soon Daphne's hands were fisting in his hair once more as he lashed
at her sex from the side, three fingers buried in her again, clutching and pawing at the back of
her nerve bundle while she writhed at his touch.

Once she'd come, the girl panted, grinning in an almost crazed way, "I'll use my mouth now,
Potter, if- if you want me to."

But he shook his head, only half-erect, and hitched himself up to lean back against the
headboard, pulling her up by the shoulders to sit between his legs. There, his hands resumed
the work they'd begun the night before, but this time working tension from Daphne's
shoulders, the tops of her breasts, and upper arms and back. She sighed, leaning against him,
and let him do as he pleased after the first touch.

While he massaged her, she said quietly, "That was different, last night. I... I feel less...
strange, about it. As if it was... normal."

"How did you feel before?" Harry asked.

She was quiet for a moment, giving herself over to the feel of his hands working her muscles,
then replied, "The first time, it was... it was all desperate need. You know better than I what
your servant does, the effect she has. After, I... I wanted more, but I felt guilty. For cheating
on Tracey. For being with a- a boy. For enjoying it. Mostly for enjoying it."
Harry nodded, pressing his lips to the back of her head for a moment as he kept kneading,
"And in my room?"

She shrugged a little, causing his hand to slip for a moment, "That was... odd. Just odd. I was
still nervous. Very nervous. I... Tracey convinced me to do it, you see. I don't regret it, so
don't worry about that. But it was... while I enjoyed it, I still worried after. It was just... well, I
felt like I should... feel something. After having sex with a man again, even if my girlfriend
was there, and did it too. But I didn't. It was just... fun, while we did it, and then... nothing.
We went back to our room, made love as usual, and went to sleep. And that was it."

"And... this time?"

Daphne sighed against him as he pressed his fingers into the top of her breasts, kneading at
her pectorals a little and relaxing into his body some more. "I... I enjoyed it, obviously. You
gave me... as many orgasms in one night as Tracey ever has. You have come a long way with
your mouth and... well... that thing I'm almost sitting on. I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Harry almost snorted, "No. Believe me, if you're hurting a man there, he'll let you know. It
feels good, actually, having it nestled there."

"Even- even when it's... hard?"

He nodded, "Yeah. It's not really hard, or it might, but I'm pretty flexible, too. The Succubus
thing, I think."

"Ah, I see. Yes. Well... when I woke up, I was worried about Tracey, but you are right. She is
safe, and... and I cannot always be there to help her. I only worry that when she needs me I
won't be there."

"The problem with protecting other people," Harry nodded, sounding suddenly tired even to
himself, though he was fully rested, "is that we can't be everywhere at once. I hate that, too."

"I had a feeling you would understand," Daphne whispered, looking back at him seriously,
"You, of all people."

He nodded, but said nothing. It was always his greatest fear, so similar to Molly Weasley's.
That those he cared about would die, and no matter what he did, he either would not be there
or would be unable to stop it anyway.

It had happened so much already.

"The way you looked at me," Daphne said after a few more moments, drawing him from his
dark thoughts and worries, "last night. This morning. Thank you for that, even if I'm still sure
I look a fright."

"How did I look at you?" Harry asked, not sure what she was getting at.

"Like... All my life, people have... looked at me. I have been a bargaining chip, an object to
trade and barter. Later, I became an object of desire, far earlier than most of our peers. I
despise it. I am not a- a thing. I am accustomed to being desired, but I do not like it.
"You... Tracey and you, Harry, you desire me. I can see it in your eyes, both of you, and the
way you look at me, but you don't... desire me as a thing to have. I feel like you desire me for
me. That you don't look at me, but that you look at me. As a person, not a thing."

Harry nodded. It was something he'd done a great deal of thinking about. Even back in the
library, she had been little more than an object, a warm body to sate his lust on before he
could do so with Lilith. Even she, now one of his most trusted companions, someone he
genuinely did love, had been an object to use for his pleasure at first. And what pleasure it
was! But now, months later...

"I love her, you know," he said softly, "Lilith. Lyra. She was an object to me, too. I felt so
much guilt as I realized she was a person in her own right, that I'd taken her from her world,
but... she wanted to come. She's convinced me of that, she volunteered. Without knowing me,
or what I would ask her to do, but she did it anyway. Now I... I don't know what I'll do when
she has to go back. If I survive."

"You must," Daphne whispered seriously, reaching up to tug his hand from her arm to her
chest and pressing it there, over her heart, "You must survive this war. I need my children,
Potter, and they need a father. That was our deal, remember?"

He grinned, giving her another kiss on the top her head this time, and a grope of her tit before
moving back to massage her arms. "I know. I promised. I'll do everything I can, and Lilith is
a big help. But my point is, I... there are many women in my life, and being a Contractor, it
isn't easy to give that up. Ginny, Hermione, and the others having Runes makes it easier for
them to keep up, but I'm... that genetic imperative to sow wild oats? To be with more than
just one partner? It's far stronger, now. I can't only be with you or Tracey, or you and Tracey
and even them. There will be others, and already are a bunch you don't know the names of."

"I know Pansy is your lover," Daphne said, almost casually, "and I don't mind that. I... I don't
own you, Harry. Be with whom you will, as I said before. Only... don't neglect me. Or
Tracey."

"If I am, come to me," Harry told her just as seriously as she'd been before, "I don't always
have the ability to tell when someone has need of me, you know? I don't read minds very
well. I can almost read body language well."

"You do alright," she chuckled, twisting to kiss him again, this time on the mouth. "For a
bloke."

She settled into his body again, but then raised herself on her knees and hands, lifting until
his cock was pressing into her sex. Then she shifted her weight and used the freed-up hand to
guide him in before sinking down onto him with a sigh. "It's distracting, sitting on this beast,"
she hissed, then started raising and lowering herself slowly.

"It's distracting, having you sit on it," he teased back, "but even more so like this."

"But this way," Daphne reasoned as she continued riding him, "the distraction will go away,
at least for a little while."
"True," he agreed with another chuckle, letting his hands move to cup her breasts as she
moved. "I'll make love to you or ravage you whenever you want, you know. I'm strangely
fond of you, for all your snark, sarcasm, dry wit, and Slytherin shiftiness."

"Shifty?" Daphne murmured, as if testing out the word, yet also oddly offended, "I am
not shifty. Sneaky, cunning, perhaps. Shifty? I am not a criminal, Potter."

"Maybe that's not the right word," he laughed, shifting his arms to rub her clit gently on one
side and help her rise and fall by cupping her rear with the other. "But Goddesses above, you
shift so well."

"As do you," she replied, "Now stop talking. I just want to make us cum."

"My lady," he agreed, then shut up and let her work.

It was a fair while coming, as he worked her body idly, and she with more and increasing
vigor, but soon Daphne was bouncing on him furiously, the soft, molten depths of her milking
his shaft with abandon.

Harry was getting close, and Daphne had already climaxed once and was working on another,
when the door opened to admit Lilith, who closed it quietly behind her. The Succubus was
still as she had been last night, nude, her lithe, barely-pubescent body on full display as she
stalked toward them, watching with glee.

Daphne froze, but Harry grunted, lifting her then with both hands, and she started moving
again, slower, more carefully.

"Don't stop on my account," Lilith whispered to the girl as she stepped closer, "I simply need
to feed from Master. But I'm happy to feed from out of your delicious pussy, big sister...
Master, would you mind moving to the edge?"

"Not at all, my Pet," Harry said with a knowing grin over Daphne's shoulder. The blonde did
not protest, but seemed almost paralyzed with worry and anxiety at what was about to
happen, though she kept moving even while Harry wormed his way to sit there, with Lilith
moving onto her knees between his.

"Won't have to wait long," Harry told the tiny girl, "I'm pretty close. Daphne's a great shag."

"I'm sure," Lilith replied with a smile, looking up at the bouncing tits, "I can't wait until big
sis lets me do it. I want to taste her now... can I, big sis?"

The implications of what Lilith was saying told Harry there was more going on there than he
could have guessed, but Daphne only nodded once, shakily, and stared down herself as Lilith
leaned into lick first Harry's scrotum, which swayed and bounced against her face, then up
the couple inches of his shaft she could reach, before, matching perfectly the witch's
movements as she latched onto her folds and clit.

After that, Daphne lasted only ten seconds, and her quivering, trembling sex pulled out
Harry's climax a mere moment after. He flooded her once more, but this time Lilith was
there, and she lapped up the dripping fluids from both of them with eagerness as Harry
withdrew slowly, lifting Daphne until she was standing over his dick, then opening her mouth
onto the girl's gaping, dripping hole and letting his leavings fall into her open orifice. Once
she'd stopped running down with it, Lilith sat up a little higher and latched on, mouthing her
as her long tongue probed up and in, higher and higher, impossibly deep, to pull out every
last bit of him and her both.

She didn't precisely need to do that, Harry knew, for he'd seen her withdraw semen with her
own magic either through the channel or through the skin, but Daphne definitely did not
mind, nor did he. The sight was enough to keep him hard, in fact, and soon the witch was
shaking in yet another orgasm.

Once it had passed, Lilith stood up, gave Daphne a long, welcoming hug as the remains of
their fluids vanished into her skin, then said happily, "Welcome to the club, lover. You'll be
happy here, I'm sure. Go on, your little friend is waiting for you, and Master's elves have
brought breakfast for everyone. I need to eat a bit more."
 Improving Relations
Chapter Summary

Ah... A... DATE?!

An actual ROMANCE bit?! WTF?!

A/N:
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Chap. 59: Improving Relations

Daphne gathered her nightshirt quickly, threw it on, and glanced once back at each of them,
then out the door with a bit of caution, peeking past the door frame, before hurrying out into
the main room. Her bedroom door shut softly a moment later, just audible past the one Lilith
shut before returning to Harry. "Bit of a sister fetish," Lilith whispered to him saucily, licking
her lips, "Not surprising with a cutie like Astoria in the family. She's terrified of the
implications, though. Mostly what it could mean for Daphne herself if she acts on her desires,
or they both do, when Astoria dies. She'd be even more devastated."

"That makes sense," Harry agreed, letting his eyes look her over. No matter how many times
he'd seen it, the sight of the petite form still amazed him, from her perky, upturned breasts to
the patch between her legs that still glowed faintly pink in the dim light, and after being used
probably thousands of times was still untouched to the appearance. "So, still hungry?"
Lilith nodded, almost shyly, a calculated look he knew would have been used to tease him. It
still worked, of course, he was not immune to her charms, not by a long shot. "I used a lot of
magic keeping the others hidden and safe while they packed. A second feeding isn't strictly
necessary, but it's been a while since I've had you to myself, Master."

"Then what are you waiting for, little cunt?" he asked, grinning madly as he assumed the
'mean big brother' role. "Your mouth and your body are only good for one thing, aren't they?
Making me feel good.."

"Yes, big brother," Lilith whimpered, suddenly smiling widely herself, then lowered her lips
to his cock and swallowed half his length with a quiet gurgle. He grabbed her head and
pushed her further, using his weight as he hunched over to push her completely down on him.
Like this, it would've killed a human, but he knew Lilith could take the pain of her throat
being stretched and pulled that harshly, if it even hurt.

While she whimpered, even cried out around his cock, Harry suspected it didn't, that she
actually felt pleasure from it instead. He knew he did. Then he took her by the head and
moved her up, practically masturbating himself with her mouth and throat. "That's it, little
bitch," he hissed, "Milk your brother's cock. I know you're hungry for it, little slut."

Lilith's mimicry, as usual, was spot on. She squirmed and bucked, her little body gasping as if
to escape the horror of what Harry was forcing upon his own sister, as if she was fighting for
breath, but both knew she was still stronger than he. That gap was closing rapidly now, with
as long as his Runes had been active and with the depth of their bond, but as far as brute
force she could still escape if she actually wanted to, even with the leverage disadvantage.

But her performance was for show, and because she knew that, in the moment, Harry was
enjoying dominating her, the role-play of forcing his giant cock down his baby sister's throat
against her will, because she had been too 'reluctant' to suck him off. The loud noises she was
making as her throat was pushed open and air forced from her body, then let back into the
vacuum created by his removal made Harry grin almost cruelly too, audible evidence of the
force he was yanking her head up and down his shaft with. "Yeah, that's pretty good, little
bitch," he grunted, shoving her down and leaving her there while he flexed his dick a few
times in her throat, then yanking her back off and throwing her to the floor.

She gasped there, eyes rolling from lack of oxygen though she didn't really need it, as she
sputtered and coughed. He stood over her next, long enough for Lilith to whimper a plaintive,
"Why, big bro-" before he lifted her by an ankle to dangle over his head, her body swinging
in front of his face.

"Because I wanted to, little cunt," he grunted, reaching up a hand to slap her twat, none too
softly but not with any real force. She whimpered again, but Harry had already turned his
attention to his hand, which came away wet. "See that? You're gushing for it. You're such a
slag, sis. Getting wet while I fuck your face. Well, keep it up."

He shifted his hold then, taking her by the thighs with both arms curled up and lowered her
pussy to his face, diving in with relish while she swung around his penis, bobbing and
slapping against it for a few seconds until she was able to catch herself. Then, knowing what
she wanted, he held still for a moment as she whispered, "Big brother, I... I want it..."
"Take it then, greedy slag," he grunted, relishing in the feel of her once again as her body
twisted and lowered her mouth onto him again.

Upside down, Lilith took him in more easily, sinking to his base with the ease of long
practice. Harry let her work without taking himself out or raising her, focusing instead on
bringing the little folds and clit, just as functional as a human's, as much pleasure as he could
for a few minutes. His enhanced strength held her easily, but after a little while more he
yanked her up and off of him, then back onto the bed before twisting her in a circle so that
her pussy faced him, and diving in with his erection this time. He bottomed out in a single
move, and she whimpered, crying out as her arms and legs tried to circle him, but were just a
bit too short as he didn't lie against her. "Big brother," she gasped, "I- I-"

Like with Daphne, his hand fell over Lilith's slender throat, but this time it was rougher, his
grip firmer, and her face started to discolor. Again, he knew that Lilith didn't really need to
breathe aside from to talk, but she was doing it for the realism. He started rutting at once,
choking and thrusting into her roughly, and his spare hand slapped one little tit as it bounced,
then grabbed and twisted at the flesh hard enough to seriously hurt a regular person. It was
strangely freeing being this aggressive, Harry realized, taking out his frustrations in a way
that was ultimately harmless, and on someone who enjoyed it, possibly more than he did. It
was definitely not a normal thing, even if he did enjoy it whether rough or tender, but every
once in a while...

"I love using you as a cock-sleeve," Harry grunted as he pushed as hard as he could to bury
himself in Lilith's body, and let his penis grow to Succubus-like proportions and shape, with
the little spines and all. Lilith groaned as her flesh stretched, the bulge almost comical as it
reached up between her breasts and even a bit higher. Literally lethal on a human, it would
pierce her organs that deep, but she took it in stride, gasping and moaning with mounting,
insane lust as he hammered down and in even faster.

Suddenly, the role-play was gone, as she gasped with what little air he allowed her, "Master,
Master! I'm- I'm cumming, Master!"

It was too much for him, too, and Harry unleashed all his pent-up fury at being unable to stop
Draco from escaping with Isabella Ross, at being unable to find where Nott had taken Vicky
Frobisher, at what he'd done to Romilda, and how he had failed to save Mandy when he had
the chance into Lilith's body, which desperately clung to him as it accepted everything in a
flash flood of his cum.

When he was done spurting, he collapsed onto her, panting as desperately as he had the very
first time they'd had sex, before she had revived his cock with a kiss and done even more.
"Thank you, my love," he whispered into her hair and neck, "I..."

"You needed it, I know, Master," the Succubus said softly back, "Thank you for blessing me
with your anger. I needed it, too. I..."

"I know," he replied after she trailed off, "I feel it. I understand. You don't have to say it. It'll
only make things harder if... when..."
She nodded, and for the first time in a very long time indeed, the Succubus shed real tears.
Not because of any pain that Harry had inflicted (there had been only pleasure for her, despite
the harsh treatment, after all, doubled because she felt his and hers in equal measure), but
because she would miss him, miss their connection, when it was all over, too. But she still
could not say it, not as he had, and mean it.

She did.

It was obvious to her, the creature of emotion and passion that she was, but actually saying
the words, even if she'd done so before, was impossible in that moment.

But he still knew. Her loving Master always knew how she felt, just as she did with him. That
was yet another reason to weep, even as she clung to him so tightly.

Greeting the others as Lyra once again about a half-hour later, their mutual tears kissed away
by the other and after 'bathing' Harry with her tongue once more (and, of course, siphoning
his leavings from both girls and herself away for her people and herself), was a little
awkward for Harry.

Mostly because he had almost forgotten, in the moment, that the Slytherins were staying in
the other rooms, not his closest friends.

Thus, he was shirtless, and once again Astoria Greengrass stared, pink-faced, while she ate
the elf-brought breakfast beside her sister, Tracey, and Pansy.

"Er, good morning. Sorry, I- I'll get a shirt."

"Oh, don't bother, Potter," Pansy snickered, "Not like I mind seeing it, and frankly, Astoria
could use a bit more worldliness."

"Stay out of it," Daphne grumbled, but it sounded like an old argument to Harry, so he didn't
bother getting involved. Instead, he only turned, intending to enter his room again to find
Lyra already there, holding one out with a pleased smile. "Er, thanks. So. A lot to do today?"

She shrugged, "Classes, of course. But it's Friday now."

"And a Hogsmeade weekend," Astoria chirped around a mouthful of buttered muffin.

"Ah, that's right," Pansy replied, "We should go. There are a few more things I need for
Yule."

"Hm, it is the last one. It's hard to believe the term ends in three days."

Harry groaned as he sank into one of the chairs across from most of the girls and next to
Pansy on the left, while Lyra took the right and picked up a few things to nibble on herself,
"I'm going to be so busy."

All of them except Lyra, who already knew his schedule probably better than he did, looked
up.
"I haven't got my invite yet," Harry explained, "but most of you know Slughorn's planning a
secret party before school's out. I... sort of promised him I'd attend. Did a deal, you could
say."

"I was the one who did the deal, if you recall, Master," Lyra added, making the other girls
turn to her, and Astoria blush as she remembered exactly who the attractive girl was from
their summer meeting.

"Well, yes, I suppose," he rolled his eyes at her teasing, which made the Succubus in disguise
smile even wider, "but I don't know which night that is, Saturday or Sunday. Could even be
Monday. I don't think tonight. Plus the Hogsmeade trip, and I don't know who I'm taking-"

"You are taking me," Pansy said firmly, "We've already discussed it."

One of Harry's eyebrows rose, and Pansy had the decency to look up at him a bit sheepishly,
"Er, if- if that's alright, I mean."

"I do have a girlfriend, remember," he said, "but no, I suppose that's fine. We can go together,
Ginny would probably appreciate some time to hang out with her year-mates, and Hermione
and Ron are happy together too."

"You're such a slag," Astoria added, a bit unnecessarily, while looking at Harry. "Exactly how
many girls are you shagging besides my sister?"

"Astoria Helena Greengrass! That is not acceptable!"

"Mum would've asked," the younger girl said with a frown at her sister, not rising any further
to the provocation.

"Our mother would most certainly have not! And if she had, it would not have been like
that!"

Harry could not help but grin, watching the byplay. Their dynamic was so sure, so casual, so
open, and yet so different from any of them in the Weasley family that it was fascinating to
him, an only child who'd also been orphaned and had no healthy sibling-style relationships to
look to besides his ginger clan. While he watched the two argue, Astoria with surprisingly
cool logic and her older sister with growing frustration that quickly caused several cracks to
appear and grow in her formal veneer (a feat Harry would love to learn to replicate, he knew),
he counted.

It was a lot, by this point. He was probably turning into a bit of a slag. More or less in order,
it was Daphne, Lilith, Hermione, Cho, Marietta, Pansy, Ginny, Alicia, Hannah, then the
Muggle girls, Penny, Jill, Sunny, Chelsea, and Mrs. Granger. Fleur, Romilda (so many
times!), Lavender, Mandy, Tracey too, how had he missed her? And Katie, too. Was that
everyone?

"Twenty," he said, counting again on his fingers while the girls looked at him, going through
the full set twice, "Yeah, I think that's right, an even twenty girls I've been with. Well, I'm-
I'm not shagging them all now. But that's my list so far."
Pansy's eyes seemed like they were torn between widening in shock and narrowing in
displeasure, but eventually she growled, "I believe she asked how many now. How many are
you shagging still, Potter?"

He sighed, "You know it doesn't matter. Succubus."

"It matters to me."

He shrugged, "Alright. I'm not naming names, even if you can guess most of them. One of
them is... a bit older, so not while in school. Not sure about during the hols, so I'm not
counting her. "I think... eight. Yeah, eight, on a regular basis. Occasionally there are others."

"You really are a slag," Astoria exhaled breathily, sounding impressed more than anything. "I
think if I ever had eight blokes in my life my mother would rip out my heart or something."

"She most certainly would," Daphne tried to protest, but her little sister only rolled her eyes.

"You aren't one to talk, shagging a bloke when you're a witch's witch through and through,
and with your girlfriend no less."

Daphne spluttered, but Harry only chuckled again. "Come on, you lot, best get through the
showering process. There's only two, and we have classes."

Harry, thankfully, beat them to it, taking the common loo before Daphne and Tracey could
get in, if only because they apparently wanted to do it together. It wasn't a luxury they
normally had, being pressed for time as they often were in the morning.

And Astoria and Pansy, well... Harry heard that argument even after he'd left the suite, fully
dressed and ready to go. At least Lyra had left him to it, this time, even if he wouldn't have
minded pressing her up against the tiles for a while. He did kind of want to hurry. Potions,
even under Slughorn, was a bit of a chore. He could use the time to set up.

Harry was grateful for the time as he was the first in line this time, which let Slughorn, who
had been in the Great Hall eating until the last moment, to invite him inside with a sort of
wary but pleased grin. "Been meaning to find you, Harry, or pass on a message. Oh, leave it
open, the others won't be long, I expect. You- you said you would come to my parties, for...
for that er, favor I did for you."

Harry couldn't resist needling the man, especially with the door open. "Lyra's favor wasn't
enough? Oh, I suppose I did agree to it. Alright, when's this secret party? Where?"

"Tomorrow night, after the Hogsmeade curfew. 'Round eight, let's say, things should be in full
swing if you want to show fashionably late. We're using the small auditorium a few doors
down the hall, already got most of the decorations up if you want to take a gander after
class," Slughorn said exuberantly, any nerves he had felt over the last few weeks of classes
after Harry and Lyra had discerned his weakness for a certain very famous witch in her
younger years, and used that to get a certain memory that Dumbledore had asked them to
obtain, long forgotten.
"I'll be there," Harry nodded, "Do I need a date?"

"Oh, yes, anyone you choose," Slughorn said, suddenly a bit more pale, "Er, p- perhaps not,
um, Miss Sendai... You understand. Memories."

Harry did not want to think too hard about what the overweight old man, rounder than even
Vernon Dursley if a bit more healthy anyway, might have gotten up to with his attractive pet's
disguise as a younger Gwenog Jones, so he ignored that line of thinking completely and
simply nodded, "Of course, sir. I'll find, er, someone. Could've used a bit more notice, but it's
fine."

"Well, you know, secret party and all that," Slughorn coughed, "you're welcome to come stag
if you wish. Should be plenty of witches to chat up, eh? Gwenog herself is coming, you
know..."

"I think you should talk to her, but maybe I'll bring Ginny. Gwenog's a personal hero of hers,
you know."

"Ah, yes, I detected a certain... fire in her eyes once when I mentioned the Captain, heh,
heh... well, ah, here we are, welcome, welcome Miss Greengrass. Have a seat anywhere... not
sitting with Potter today?"

"No," Daphne said coldly to the Professor who was temporarily her Head of House, but then
immediately sent a softer smile to Harry as she turned her back on the older wizard, and
walked past his central place to sit two desks behind him, followed by Pansy.

The day went most smoothly, but Harry found himself distracted by asking several of his
friends who would prefer to go. Ginny had made the unfortunate decision to decline her own
invitation in advance, as she had claimed the need to pack and the desire for a quiet evening
after the busy Hogsmeade day, so Harry hadn't even bothered to mention Gwenog Jones'
appearance. Not to be bitter, but he truly did think Slughorn might try and monopolize her
time anyway after the experience Lilith had given him. Besides, there would be other
chances, other parties.

Perhaps I'll invite her to a Yule holiday next year. Her and Krum, famous Quidditch players
for some fans to fawn over... wonder if she'd accept?

It was an idle thought, one that made Harry digress for a moment into wondering if he would
even be alive for the next Christmas holiday, but for once he was able to push down that line
of thought easily rather than wallow in it. Hermione too had turned him down for the same
packing reasons, but also preparing a gift for he and Ron that she was strangely tight-lipped
about. Neville was spending the entire day with Hannah, so the blonde was out, and Susan,
who he had considered after, would be leaving the school after classes that day thanks to her
Aunt's influence and an upcoming vacation.

Lavender would be packing too, and, she whispered to him, "Licking Parvati's beautiful
pussy until it aches for more, to make up for lost time," since they wouldn't be together over
the holidays aside from on Boxing Day. Which basically left him with the Slytherins. But
being friends with them more openly was one thing. Going to a party with them, one where
several well-connected people from around the continent even might see them? That was a
whole new layer of danger he did not want to bring down on their heads.

Harry sighed, just as a butter-yellow canary flew through the hallway in the west wing's third
floor, going over his head with a chirp.

A sweet-sounding giggle made him look up after ducking, "Almost got you, Harry."

"Oh, hey, Luna. I haven't seen you around much this year. How are you doing?"

The blonde shrugged. It was true, outside of the D.A. Meetings, even if there had been a lot,
they had not talked much. "I suppose I'm alright, if a bit lonely. How are you?"

"Well, I find myself in need of some help, actually," Harry said, swallowing down the sudden
lump in his throat. Why should he be nervous now, of all times? "I was wondering if you-
could, er, help me with it."

"Of course, Harry," Luna said seriously, hopping off the windowsill she had been sitting on
and dangling one leg out carelessly, despite the cold weather, and standing before him. "What
can I do for you?"

"I, er... sorry, this is harder than I expected. I..."

"Ah, the nargles again."

He nodded dumbly, feeling quite bashful. "I... well, Slughorn- Professor Slughorn- invited me
to a bit of a party tomorrow night, after Hogsmeade. I was... er... well, wondering if you'd like
to go with me. As a friend."

He said the last part without meaning to. Luna was odd, though cute, and attractive in a
strange sort of way, almost like a flower-power hippy, but magical. He adored her, but this... a
date? It was almost too much.

"That depends, I think," Luna said, tapping her jawline thoughtfully, "Does being your friend
have benefits?"

"Er... I think so? It comes with risks of course, I mean, you know me. You remember the end
of last year, but-"

"Then I'd love to go to this party as your friend-date, Harry Potter. Meet me... hm... how
about in the entrance hall at eight-thirty?"

"Er... sure," Harry heard himself say, completely confused.

"Excellent. Wear something... oh, you can pick. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

Then she was gone, hurrying with more alacrity than he would've guessed but not quite
jogging down the hall in the direction of the Ravenclaw's tower.
"Strange girl," he murmured, finding himself smiling at her charm all the same. This was
going to be fun, but entirely unconventional. "Bit like Luna herself, then," he decided, the
smile widening. Very fun.

It didn't even occur to him that this was the third time Luna had asked him if they were going
to have sex.

Not yet, at least.

After all, as she switched to skipping quickly down the halls once she was out of sight, the
happy Ravenclaw girl had tried the direct route. Subtlety, it seemed, was the way to go. At
least this time.

He had agreed, after all. Now she just had to make sure he stuck with it!

Luna was going to have a great time, she was sure of it. Even if the party itself promised to
be nothing but boring. The after-party... well... who knew?

Harry entered the Gryffindor Common Room after dinner alone. The others, Lyra included,
had come up together a bit earlier, but he had remained to follow behind the cluster of
Slytherins that now sat isolated from the rest of their House by at least a dozen feet. He had
wanted to make sure they reached their new quarters safely. There hadn't been any issues, for
which he was grateful, but Harry hadn't bothered to follow them inside. He would likely
sleep there, and new that Pansy wanted some of his attention too, but it could wait until
Saturday, or at least later that night.

He hadn't seen his other friends in a few days, not since Ginny had shagged him in front of
everyone after putting on a strip-show.

There were a few friendly calls and waves as he stepped through the portrait hole, half-
visible, the Invisibility Cloak the entire House knew he had now being rolled up impossibly
small and stuffed into his trouser pocket. "Hey, everybody," Harry said with an easy smile,
then paused mid-step.

They really had started something, it seemed.

To his right, two seventh-year girls writhed together, half-dressed and humping each other's
legs, in the corner near the portrait-hole. Across the room, a fourth-year girl had her legs
spread as a third-year ogled her, wanking madly, as the girl's tongue mingled with another
boy's.

No one else was actively doing sexual things, but two of the other girls weren't wearing
anything on their tops, breasts on full display, and only one was wearing a shirt, a shy-
looking first year he'd never met, who hadn't anything to show anyway. Even a second-year
girl was going around shirtless, though she had a training bra on.

The boys weren't much better, shirtless or with boxers alone for the most part, and more than
a few sporting erections, not a small number playing with themselves even while working on
homework.

He made his way through and up to the boy's dorm to find Hermione there, on his bed, with
Ginny on Ron's, both of them being filled by Seamus, Dean, Ron, Neville, and Ritchie Coot,
the fifth-year, who was slamming into Ginny's tight pussy with gusto. His face was
transported, eyes nearly rolling back in his head, as if this were the luckiest night of his life.

Maybe it was.

Harry only smiled, watched them for a few seconds more, then turned and went back down
the stairs. Not much had changed in the common room, but the sounds of sex occurred in
nearly every dorm he passed except the first-years'. A part of him knew it was a bit weird for
the twelve- and thirteen-year olds to be actively doing that sort of thing, but at the same time,
as long as they were careful (and he hoped they were), it shouldn't do too much lasting
damage. Right?

Satisfied that he'd made an appearance, Harry was about to leave when he literally walked
into Katie Bell. "Oh, sorry," he said quickly, stepping back and holding the Fat Lady's portrait
open so she could pass.

Only she didn't.

Katie instead took one look at the Common Room, then turned around and started walking
back down the hall. With a frown, Harry hurried after her, not bothering to call out. She heard
him, he wasn't exactly being quiet. Instead, when he caught up, the wizard only fell in step
beside his friend. She didn't say anything, only kept walking down the stairs, through the
halls. Past the Entrance Hall and Great Hall, where a few stragglers like Crabbe and Goyle
still stuffed their faces (and maybe someone was getting a handjob beneath the Ravenclaw
table, it was hard to see and they were moving quickly), then out into the grounds.

A minute later, Harry realized exactly where she was going, and thought he could have
predicted it. The Quidditch Pitch.

Katie still hadn't said a word as she entered the Quidditch locker rooms, went to the girl's
side, and then spun to pull him into a strong embrace. Harry, surprised, was a few seconds
responding, but he held the slightly older witch tightly once he had. "Katie? What's- what's
wrong?"

"I miss them," she sniffled, surprising him again. "Alicia most of all, but Angie and Fred,
George, Lee... I miss being touched. I... I don't think I want to marry them, though."

"Ah."

There wasn't much he could say, especially not in the spur of the moment. He'd been so
surprised by her admission that the entire rest of the Quidditch Team he'd known for most of
Gryffindor, sans Oliver Wood and himself, had been plotting to engage in a polyamorous
marriage in some African country where that was still legal, and then just... be together, for
the rest of their lives.
It was still a bit of a stretch to imagine the normally shy Katie, or the girl who had literally
sold her body for spending money in Alicia, before she'd been murdered by Death Eaters at
the Ministry of Magic, had been with the Weasley Twins far more than the one time he'd been
with her. Or that Lee had, too. Less strange to think about were the three Chasers being
intimately involved. He, like most males in Gryffindor, had fantasies about the Flying Foxes
of Gryffidor.

Truth be told, when Katie had mounted him on the stands at the start of the year, it had been a
personal dream come true for Harry. But this...

"Talk to me," he said quietly after a few minutes of her sobbing into his chest, "Tell me
what's going on, all of it. It'll help."

As she continued to sniffle, he moved them slowly over to the nearest bench and sat down,
pulling her into his lap almost like a child, though she was as tall as him. Somehow, while
he'd never been good with crying girls, Katie made sense to him. He didn't know exactly
what was bothering her, or he wouldn't have asked, but she didn't make him want to flee in
terror.

Maybe he was growing up. A little, anyway.

"I said," she sniffed, "I'm... I don't love them. I want that, I want that... togetherness, the
bond, but... I don't love any of them except as friends. The sex is fun, was fun, but it wasn't...
It wasn't special. I always thought it would be special, you know? Like I... romanticized it,
or... I don't know. Maybe I'm being silly."

"It's not silly to want love," Harry murmured, pulling her head against his for a moment, "Nor
is it silly to think sex can be special with some people and not others. That's... the daily
reality for me."

"I heard about her, your slut," Katie whispered without heat, "the one who they say is
shagging you every day. And that she got Hermione and Ginny to do it, too."

"She would be proud to hear you call her that, but she's a Succubus, not a slut. And I like to
think I had something to do with the other girls."

"That's... kinky."

"Tell me about it," he chuckled, "but I'm not here to talk about me. I'm here to help my friend,
who's upset."

Katie didn't say anything for a few seconds, but almost at once she pulled away, sliding off
his lap to sit next to him, but facing the other way on the narrow strip of wood. In profile, he
realized once again just how classically beautiful she was, with her faint Mediterranean
features and olive skin, but crystal clear green eyes, framed by silky, wavy brown hair that
whipped in the wind as she flew circles around their opponents, almost as well as Ginny. "My
dildo's just... boring," she started, ticking problems off with her fingers, "it's too small, and
the enchantments are wearing off. I don't know how to fix them. I haven't had a real penis in
me since we- since the start of the year. Ginny Weasley went down on me a few weeks ago,
and it was great, but I want a dick too. Sometimes, anyway. And she wouldn't let me return
the favor, which is just rude."

Harry snorted, amazed that he was having a frank conversation like this with his Quidditch
teammate and current Captain in the locker rooms. About his own girlfriend, no less.

"I thought it was a bit weird, you know, since she's seeing you, but she said you wouldn't care
so I didn't think anything of it, especially after... that night. God, she can eat a pussy."

Harry grinned, grateful that his experiences as Iris confirmed that very well, but said nothing.

"On top of that, my parents want to flee the country. Dad's scared the- the bad guys will start
coming after people soon, and it looks like they will, but Mum doesn't want to go. Doesn't
want us to leave in the middle of the school year. My brother's in Hufflepuff, you know?
Third year."

"Ah, didn't know you had a brother. Cool, though. I like 'Puffs in general."

She smiled, "Aren't they nice? Leanne's a 'Puff, too. But she won't eat a pussy, straight as an
arrow. We tried that once, she wasn't into it at all. Biggest fight we ever had."

Harry snorted.

"And what would she do if we left? She's the only Magical in her family, she looks to ours
for help and understanding. Her own parents would be outta luck, especially if the Death
Eaters came calling because she's a Muggleborn.

"On top of that, I don't know if I can get a job in Britain even if the Dark Wanker gets tossed
in some heroic fashion, because of all the... bigotry. I hate it. And I don't have any real skills,
I'm not good at anything except painting and flying, but all the Quidditch teams are looking
for more talent than I've got. I'm good for this," she said, waving a hand around, "local
leagues maybe, but none of the pro teams. I'm going to be an amateur at best."

Harry wanted to argue, but he knew deep down she was right. Katie Bell was a damned good
flier, but after having watched the World Cup, he knew she wasn't that good. No one at the
school was, except maybe he and Ginny.

Objectively speaking, of course. Wood had been great, and now that he was on the Tutshill
(Harry thought) Reserve Team, that was it for a while.

Even Angelina, the better flier out of all last year's team besides Harry again, wasn't going
pro.

"Worst is just that I... I am alone all the time. I see everyone hooking up, but I'm... not
interested. I want a dick, I want to get licked, yeah, sure, but I want... I want a connection,"
Katie almost whined. "I want something real. My friendship with sex was great while it
lasted, with the others, but I can't... there's just no way I can keep doing it. And I don't know
what to do. I don't want to fuck just to fuck. But I hate dating, and flirting is the worst."
"Well, I hate to say this given what you've just told me, but I do have a solution for you if
you're interested," Harry said after it became clear she was done talking.

"What's that?" Katie asked, leaning back onto her arms, almost balancing on the narrow
bench. "Shag you again?"

"Well, in part," Harry said seriously, making her blush and look over at him in surprise, "I
told you I was willing if you wanted to again, remember? You're... I mean, I'm not in love
with you. But I had fun that night, and I thought you did, too. I know it isn't exactly what
you're looking for, but... my friends and I, we... sorta have that same sort of... group dynamic.
Thing. Only there's more of us."

Katie blinked. Then gave him a shrewd sort of look, "Name a few."

"You know the obvious ones," he told her, "and I don't shag and tell, I keep telling people
that. Literally two people outside of the locker room know we did it, and one of them smelled
your arousal and put that plus the scent on my- on my dick together. Succubus fuckery."

"I see what you did there," Katie snickered, then rolled her eyes and threw her head back to
hang far enough that her mid-length hair almost dragged on the tile floor. "I'm not saying no.
But I need a few names. Surprise me. I want veto power on who I fuck."

Harry grinned, "Alright, so, pending a few particular people, you want in? Just to have sex
when you want, to be part of a group? And no strings, so if you want out, you are out?"

"Yeah, and of course I don't blab, either."

"Again, not naming names. Three Slytherins, and counting. Two Ravenclaws thus far, and
one 'Puff, with another likely by the end of next summer. Or more. Mostly us Gryffs, of
course. Easier access. Uh... two people in my year."

"Granger, and Patil. No... Brown."

Harry grinned, but neither confirmed nor denied.

"If it was Patil, she wouldn't have been whinging about it for weeks. Hm... Cho and Marietta.
Too bad she's gone, that chick was hot."

Harry had to agree, but said nothing. It hurt, still, a little pang as he mourned his dead crush
just a little more, but there was no great hurt, no hole in his heart, and he didn't get another
flashback of her small smile as her already mostly-dead body flew toward him at lethal
speeds.

"And for the 'Puffs... Abbot's been hanging out with Longbottom a lot. Her?"

Again, Harry said nothing.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, "Where and when?"

"Whenever you want," he told her, "No commitment. Just, uh... well, ask one of us. Girls or
boys. Ginny's the most happy with female company, so if you want her to eat you out again,
I'm sure she'd be happy to. Or Lyra."

"That cunt," Katie chuckled, "Rumor has it she's blown- wait... wait a fuckin' moment. Is she
the one? This Succubus of yours?"

"Not her real name of course, but yeah. Why, surprising? I bet half the rumors are false
though. At least. She mostly works through dreams, from what she tells me."

"Little slut... here I thought I was special," Katie laughed, rubbing a hand down her face, "I've
been dreaming of her with a cock, fucking me in the ass for weeks. She's been doing it? Little
bitch!"

"Well, if she has been feeding you the same dream for a while, likely she wants to do it,"
Harry told her reasonably. "Maybe she wants you to join us?"

"I already said I would, Potter," Katie reminded him with a side-long glance, "but I reserve
the right to refuse whoever."

"There's consent or no contact," he told her, "If someone says no- they don't necessarily have
to say yes, but have to be conscious to refuse- you don't touch them. They don't touch you.
Like, if I put a hand on your shoulder and dipped a little low, and you said stop, I'd stop. We
all would. But if you sigh and lean into it, maybe lower your collar a bit, that's a 'yes' to most
of us."

"Fair enough. So... no other rules?"

"Polite society? Shag who you want, but don't go spreading shit. What happens in our group
stays there. If you want more, we can discuss that later. If you decide you don't want the
casual thing, if there's no connection and it's bothering you, then stop. No questions asked. If
you find out this is what you really want... well, give the word. To me, this time, not the
others."

Katie nodded. "Alright. Well... as much as I'd love a good shag right now, the wood I want
between my thighs is a broom. Wanna go for a fly?"

Harry glanced at his watch, then nodded. They had a bit of time before dark.

Even if it was a bit after when they entered the locker room, and Katie pulled him, with a
knowing grin, into the showers as she removed her clothes with the other hand.

Brief, perhaps, but the interlude with her was pleasant enough, and left her satisfied. At least
for a while.

As usual, Harry woke entirely too early for most students of the castle to compete with, with
Lilith sucking on his morning wood. He let her go on rather than use her pussy or arse
because he was already so close to orgasm thanks to her using the form of the strange, inner-
tentacled creature from her home world that was so wildly stimulating to get him off.

After he'd climaxed again, Lilith patted his cock with a grin, then changed back into Lyra.
"I'm going to go set up a little something for the holiday. A present for Ron, if he can get to
your Godfather's house without the rest of his family besides Ginny there."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "A present?"

"Runes," she clarified, "He's still not gotten his second set, remember?"

"Ah. Yeah. I can see why he was nervous. I wouldn't want his cum on me, either."

"But, as Iris," she reminded him, shaking her arse a little as she headed for the door, giving
him a saucy wink over her shoulder.

"Good point. Alright, I'm in.

"Thought you might be, Master. I'll see you 'round. Enjoy the Village!"

"Oh, right," he murmured, "Hogsmeade today, and Slughorn's party tonight. Two dates...
when did I become such a player?" Harry snorted at his own hubris, even if he hadn't meant it
quite that way, then rose and gathered up some of the more expensive-looking muggle
clothing Lilian had helped him buy after she had arrived at the Dursleys 'publicly'. It was, as
with so many things in his life lately, a deliberate choice. Muggle, to both prod at Pansy's
pure-blood sensibilities a bit more and hopefully help her see they weren't as bad as she'd
been lead to believe (even if she'd already admitted as much), but expensive because he was
genuinely starting to like who the witch was becoming, and knew she would still appreciate
being with someone who knew how to use their wealth.

After laying out the clothes and choosing more casual ones for the moment, he crossed the
common room carrying rather than wearing his clothing, and stepped into the shower. Ten
short minutes later, while everyone still slept, Harry was on his way to the entrance hall, and
out onto the grounds. He didn't even really have a destination in mind, but as his homework
was caught up even to Hermione's standards now, and they had no more classes until after the
return from the upcoming holiday, he had nothing to do except Lilith. Well, no one.

That is, until he saw the lights coming from Hagrid's hut.

Haven't visited him much, this year. Think he'd mind...? Nah. Hagrid's cool.

Harry knocked a few minutes later after following the well-worn trail and stone stairs to the
gamekeeper, groundskeeper, and Care of Magical Creatures teacher's hut, where he knocked
on the door firmly.

At once, a loud bark sounded from behind it, and Hagrid's booming voice called, "Whozzat,
so early, eh? Down, Fang, down! I said get down!"

The door opened smoothly, and Harry was surprised once again, hardly for the first time, at
how large Hagrid was. Nothing compared to the runt of a giant brother, Grawp, they'd been
introduced to in the previous year, but still twice as tall as Harry himself and four times as
broad. "Heya, Hagrid. Couldn't sleep, saw your lights on. Mind a visit?"

"Sure, 'Arry, sure, come on in! Didn't expec' you a'all, so I'm afraid I got nothin' for ya to eat
bu' tea."

"That's more than enough," Harry said with a smile, "After all, I'm coming unannounced and
uninvited. You really don't mind?"

"No, no' at all, no' at all. Been missin' you lot's comp'ny, if I'm honest. 'Aven' seen you 'round
much this las' year."

"Well..." Harry debated for less than a second whether to be honest or not. He hated lying to
Hagrid, for all that it was too easy to get him to believe something. There wasn't a duplicitous
bone in his body. But how much to say, well... that was something different. In the end, Harry
decided to be diplomatic about it, but tell him most of the truth. "You know how magical
creatures fascinate you?"

Hagrid's beady eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously, splashing at least a Harry-sized mug's
worth of tea over his tablecloth without noticing before turning his attention back to it and his
own much larger one. "Yar, I reckon' I migh' know a thing about tha', yeah."

"Turns out I found one that truly fascinates me. Just one, though."

"Oh? I heard a bit abou' you havin' a new project, but Dumbledore didn't seem keen on tellin'
me much. Think on'y the 'eads of 'ouses know the whole story."

"I can tell you," Harry continued, "but you have to promise me it will not get out. I'm not
trying to be rude, but this is the sort of thing that Voldemort-"

Hagrid flinched, but Harry only rolled his eyes and continued, "-would love to know about
me. It's something he might use to attack me and my friends. It cannot be discussed, or even
mentioned, ever, unless it's you and me and we're alone. Ron and Hermione know, but... well,
you know sometimes you say things you shouldn't. Especially at the pub."

Hagrid had the decency to blush, and look down at his own large mug of tea a bit sheepishly,
"Yeah, I reckon I know wha' you mean, 'Arry. If you're more comfortable with me not
knowin', you best not tell me."

"I don't mind you knowing," Harry was quick to point out, "or I wouldn't have brought it up. I
just don't want the other side knowing. This creature... it's been a powerful ally against
Voldemort, and a lot of how useful it is comes from him not knowing about it. So it has to
stay secret. It's up to you if you can do that or not."

Hagrid remained silent for several seconds, which stretched into a minute, before he jumped
up and muttered, "Can' believe I forgot my own porridge..."

Harry watched the half-giant take the cookpot from his fire, easily as large as a size-twenty
cauldron, and set it on the table with a pad beneath it, then pour in a healthy dose of syrup
and butter from his pantry before sitting back down and stirring the lot. "I appreciate yer trust
in me, 'Arry. I ca' promise nothin'. Like you've already said, I do slip up from time to time. I
can on'y give you my wor' that I'll do my damnedest not to 'is time. Mum's the word.'

"Alright. Good enough for me, Hagrid. The creature is a Succubus."

It took a few seconds for the information to sink in, but when it did, Harry was quite amused
to see Hagrid's dark eyes widen comically large as his face turned ruddy, even red, from his
normally swarthy complexion. Even his beard seemed to blush. "A... A Succubus, 'Arry?
Really? They're... right dangerous, they are. An' not the kinda beautiful creature I normally
mean, neither!"

The younger wizard nodded seriously, "Lyra, the friend we introduced a while ago? That's
her, at least while she's at school. Her normal name is Lilith."

"Blimey, 'Arry... a Succubus... tha's some powerful magic it'd have taken to Summon one...
you bound 'er, too?"

Harry nodded.

Hagrid didn't seem to know what to think, but Harry could not figure out if it was the
revelations that he was no longer an innocent teen (he seemed to assume that, at least, if the
glances Hagrid sent his way meant anything at all while he mused), that he'd been so
desperate or needy, or perhaps wondering if he'd fallen to the Dark Arts by Summoning and
extra-planar creature and binding it to him so firmly.

"Wow... A Succubus... 'reckon you've liked 'avin 'er 'round. What'd 'Ermione say? Bet she
threw a fit when she found out."

Harry smirked, "No, actually. We had a bit of a discussion, but she was pretty calm about it,
really. Seemed to take it as a personal failing of her own that I was that, er, hungry for
release, but I never saw it that way."

"An I s'pose Ron's been mighty pleased too."

"Yep. Hermione too, now. And a few others."

Hagrid shook his head once more, "Well, tha' changes a few things 'bout what I'm gettin you
lot for the Hols nex' year, but... Well, most of yer would be of age anyway. An' it isn't like I
haven' seen what's been goin' on up in the castle most nights. Students sowin' oats... wouldn't
a' minded a bit o' that myself, but with Olympe- er, Madame Maxime- down at Beuxbatons,
there ain' much..."

Harry might have blushed at the very idea, a year ago. Would certainly have when the only
other half-giant he'd ever heard of had been staying in her powder-blue carriage out on the
grounds in his fourth year. But now?

"Well, I might be able to, uh, help you with that, Hagrid... if you want me to."
The huge man's blush returned full-force, "Er, no offense, 'Arry, but tha's not exactly wha' I
meant. Blokes don't-"

"I meant Lilith," Harry laughed, waving off his oldest wizarding friend's concern, "The
Succubus, remember? She might be willing to help out. I'd have to ask, but I don't think she'd
say no. Not every day, of course, but if you, er, want some attention..."

Hagrid spluttered, and turned his attention to the pot, which he lifted to his mouth and slurped
from, taking at least six huge swallows of the strange-smelling porridge before putting it
down and wiping the mass of remnants from his beard and onto his nightshirt's sleeve. "I...
well, I don'... she's a bit... young, isn' she?"

"Over a hundred, but she doesn't know the exact translation. She's an adult."

"I... well, I still don'... I mean... she's... isn't she, I dunno... yours...?"

"If you mean if I've had sex with her," Harry replied casually, "then yes, of course. So has
Ron, Hermione, and several other people. Hagrid, this is... my life is not normal. I know,
now, that it never was and never was going to be. But Lilith being here has changed just how
normal it isn't a great deal. Because of our Bond, I have to- or at least I prefer to- climax at
least five times a day. Often with different partners. I have a growing circle of people that I
have sex with regularly. It would be rude, mean, unfair, and a double-standard if I didn't let
those partners be with other people, too. Also, she's literally a Succubus. It's in her nature."

Hagrid's blush deepened even further, "You don' have to be so blunt, 'Arry... but I get yer
poin'. I... I'll think abou' it, aright? I'm not promisin' nothin', 'cept that I won' tell a soul."

"Alright," Harry agreed with a smile. He knew it should feel odd to be so at ease discussing
this sort of thing with a much older wizard, and a half-giant, and a more casual friend than his
best friends, but at the same time, he just didn't care. He had long since passed the point of
being hung-up about the social norms regarding sex. Most of them, anyway.

A glance out the window behind Hagrid told Harry that dawn was approaching, so he hopped
off the giant stool he'd perched on, "I probably ought to head to breakfast myself, Hagrid. It
was good to see you again. Expect Hedwig in about three days with my gift, alright? And
Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Chris'mas to you too, Harry," Hagrid boomed, "I nearly forgo' it was that close! I
better finish Ron's presen' fast! Go on, then. Enjoy yer Hogsmeade day. Migh' see you 'round
down in the Village, I'm 'elpin wi' security. The Order volunteered to assist the Aurors, af'er
all."

"Right. Later, Hagrid."

He still felt a little guilty for neglecting Hagrid this year, but Harry was much happier having
(hopefully) arranged a bit of guilt-free fun with Lilith to make up for it.

He met Pansy at ten o'clock, and was pleasantly surprised to see that she had opted for loose,
flowing pants of her own rather than robes or a dress. Though her shirt was definitely not
muggle-made, it very much resembled a low-cut v-neck t-shirt, which both emphasized and
accentuated five full inches of cleavage, clasped together more by the brooch of her over-
cloak than anything else. That was very wizarding in style, and if he had to guess the current
height of fashion, in black with Slytherin-green trim along all the edges and long sleeves that
would just cover her hands. She was currently pulling on a pair of black silk gloves as he
approached her through the dwindling crowd. Most of the students of third year and up had
already gone with the first wave at nine, and each were still being inspected by Argus Filch's
probity-probe.

The old caretaker scowled and waved his wand as they passed, but said nothing. In fact, nor
did Pansy until they had reached the carriages. "I would prefer walking, if you don't mind,
Po- Harry."

"Sure, Pansy, that sounds great, actually," he replied quietly, glad for a bit of exercise even if
he'd already been on one walk this morning. The Village was a mile and a half down the road,
but even though it was cold, there was no wind and the morning was clear, so that sunshine
glinted on the snow that carpeted the ground. For a moment, he worried about mud, but it
was still cold enough that even the well-used trails were frozen over.

There wasn't much conversation until after they had passed the great boar statues that flanked
Hogwarts' main gate. They still had a full mile to go. And it started when Pansy slipped her
hand into his, twining their fingers together.

He looked over at her in surprise, a smile growing across his face.

"What?" she asked after a moment, looking up at him without breaking stride, though he
thought the rosey color of her normally olive-skinned cheeks might be more from
embarrassment than the cold.

"Nothing," he replied, the grin not fading as he gave her hand a little squeeze, "You just
continue to surprise me, that's all."

Her hand almost withdrew, and would have if his reflexes hadn't let him catch it. But Harry
was able to bring the knuckles of her glove to his lips almost casually, and she stared as he
kissed her there. "I didn't say it was a bad surprise."

Once their hands were safely between them again, Pansy still blushing far worse than Harry
was (though he could tell he definitely was), her pace slowed a little. "I... thank you for
coming," she said quietly. "I... I know I was pushy. You didn't have to accept."

Harry nodded, not looking her way mostly to keep from embarrassing her further as she kept
shooting nervous glances up at him, and thought about what to say for a moment. "I... find
myself enjoying your company, to be honest. It's not just... because I think you are pretty. You
are, of course, even beautiful, it's just... I like who you are showing yourself to be. I don't
know yet if it's the real you, but I'm glad you took my advice to heart. I couldn't stand you
before, but now I'm happy to go to Hogsmeade with you. I like you, is what I'm trying to
say."
Pansy flushed again, and her chin dropped nearly to her bosom for several seconds, perhaps a
minute. "I like you too, P- Harry. I'm shocked by how much, after... our first real meeting."

"I'm so sorry about that-"

"No," Pansy said quickly, turning to face him and coming to a stop, dragging him with her.
Her eyes were almost wet as she looked up at him seriously, "Stop apologizing for that. It's in
the past. I- I still can't believe how much I... enjoyed it myself. It was a revelation, P-Potter.
Harry. I would've, should've, ignored your advice if you'd just told it to me. But... it was
cruel, perhaps, and under any other circumstances would have been abhorrent. But I wanted
you to do it then. If- if I hadn't enjoyed, if you hadn't made me enjoy it, I would not have
stopped to actually think about what you said. You say you like me? I am me, the me I am
today- still trying to figure that out, actually, but still me today- because you did that. I don't
regret it, and I hate that you do."

Harry swallowed. It was strange, so very strange, but he could not find fault in her logic, no
matter how deeply he looked. After a few more seconds of looking down into her beautiful
eyes, which were still far too moist, he nodded, exhaled a long, slow breath, then leaned
down and kissed her. Gently, tenderly, and he found his free hand, the one she did not still
hold, snaking around her narrow waist to pull her just a little closer.

When at last they separated, despite a trio of fourth-year Ravenclaws passing them in a
carriage headed to the Village catcalling them and encouraging them to 'just fuck already,'
Harry felt the very last bit of guilt and regret over his actions that night fade away. It really
came down to a few things. Milly didn't regret it, Warrington didn't regret it, and Pansy was
grateful for it. Malfoy... well, he could go fuck himself. Harry hoped he burned in hell for
what he'd done to Mandy and probably Isabella Ross. "Alright," he said slowly, "I'll stop,
then, if that's what you want, Pansy. I can see why you feel that way. From your point of
view... alright."

"Good. My boy- my... what exactly am I to you, - Harry?"

There was still a slight hitch before she'd said his name, but as they started walking again, he
knew she was working very hard to be more than casual acquaintances who shagged on
occasion. Honestly, he didn't care to define it, but he knew she would. So he thought about it
for a few seconds, then said, "Several things, none of which are mutually exclusive. We are
friends. Unless you tell me otherwise right now. That's set in stone."

"No, I think we've passed that, as strange as it is to be friends with a Gryffindor. And you of
all people."

He grinned down at her cheeky little smile, then suddenly turned and bent to kiss her again
without breaking his stride, leaving her blushing as he stood back up. "Beyond that it gets a
little more complicated. You know about the whole... situation. And what we are largely
remains up to you. We can be friends- with benefits, I hope- meaning we'll continue to have
fun as you wish, totally aside from any other arrangement. But again, that's up to you. I won't
force you again."
When she said nothing, he continued, "I'm in or will be in Concubine Contracts with between
two and three people now. Daphne, possibly Tracey, and a Hufflepuff witch."

"Not Abbot?"

Harry shook his head.

Proving her own cunning, Pansy glanced at him once, then proclaimed, "Her friend, then.
Was it... Madame Bones' daughter? No, her niece? The one she raised?"

Harry shrugged, but the must have seen the corner of his mouth quirk at the mention of the
busty red-head. "Of course. Second to develop after dear Daphne in our year, and the larger
of the two. It figures."

"Hey, don't knock your own chest," Harry said with a chuckle, though he meant it, "it's pretty
nice, too. And there's more to a woman's beauty than her brassiere size. Ask my girlfriend."

Pansy nearly missed a step, forcing Harry to slow. When he looked back at her, she seemed a
little sad, despite having a flat expression. "Er... you do remember I have two, right? I see no
reason to object to three, if that's what you want."

It was idiotic, of course, to expect that, but suddenly Pansy was smiling again. "I will think
about that, Harry. Go on."

"Lovers, of course. Again, I hope that continues. If you're asking if I love you, then the
answer is yes, of course. If you are asking if I'm in love with you, I... don't know. I want to be
with you. For a long time. I don't want to be in a world where you don't exist. I like your
company. I feel sad when you are sad, and happy when you are happy. I like seeing you
smile, and hearing you laugh. It's a lot of work to get you to do that one, but I like it anyway.
Makes it more special."

"You," she frowned up at him, her eyes dancing, "are the most infuriatingly cheesy man I've
ever met."

"And," he laughed, "I love embarrassing you. But I still don't know if I'm in love with you. I
wish I could say one way or the other, just to clear things up. But I do want our relationship
to continue. Even... grow."

Pansy cast him another side-eye as the distant rooftops began to come into view. Three more
bends in the road, and they would be at Hogsmeade Station. Another past that, and the village
proper. "I don't... think I know myself enough to know if I love you," she said quietly, "but I
do enjoy your company. You are... too polite, and you don't exercise nearly enough guile to
keep yourself safe, but that is also... refreshing."

"Then as I said, our relationship should be defined by you. I will happily do what you like in
the bedroom- or outside it, as the location allows. But outside of that sort of thing, I don't
prefer being abusive."
Pansy flushed violently at the first declaration, and refused suddenly to look at him. The one
time they'd had a rendezvous since her first Rune-set had been applied, Pansy had wanted a
more quiet, one-on-one session. He would've called it making love, though the term still
seemed a bit too much.

But he knew she still wanted to be taken, to be used, rough and harsh. Her response to being
put in the pillory and the others essentially using her body for their own pleasure while the
Runes were applied was quite telling.

"Of course, that being said, I do now sleep in that same room... and the pillory is still there.
Along with several other toys."

"You are incorrigible," Pansy hissed, slapping his chest, but he could see her legs start to
move closer together, as if her thighs were clenching as she walked, while the cloak billowed
behind her.

"But you love that about me," he murmured into her ear, then nibbled her lobe. "We're almost
there... best keep to light conversations, unless you want to tempt me into ravishing you on
the High Street."

"Terrible, terrible man..." she groaned.

Suddenly surrounded by a mob of students of all ages from thirteen and up, along with the
few residents of Hogsmeade that dared come out while the main thoroughfare was packed
with a younger crowd, their clasped hands and opposite-colored clothing garnered quite a bit
of attention. Curious, surprised looks from most of them, to be sure, and several sneers and
looks of hatred from about half the Slytherins. But Pansy resolutely refused to let go, and
held her head high as they passed several dozen people every minute or two.

The Stationers, Zonko's (where Pansy surprisingly bought a few things, mostly to send to her
younger brother, she claimed, who was only ten and wouldn't attend Hogwarts until next
year), and Honeyduke's were expected visits for the most part, and nothing to write home
about. Their next almost-stop was the terribly gaudy Madame Puddifoot's, where Cho had
dragged Harry on their one disastrous date, thankfully long before he'd summoned Lilith and
his life had changed so much.

"Gods," Pansy hissed as they passed one of the windows, where at least one older Hufflepuff
boy was getting a handjob from a girl about a year younger that Harry thought might've been
a Ravenclaw, in full view of the pine-wreathed window, "You wouldn't catch me dead in such
a place. It's so... tacky."

"Made that mistake once," Harry muttered. He didn't want to speak ill of the dead, and he did
miss Cho (her body and cute face mostly, he could admit now), but... "I fully agree."

Pansy snorted, looking up at him, "Who?"

"Cho Chang."

"Ravenclaw Seeker? Died at- at the Ministry, last year?"

Harry nodded.

"Stupid woman. I can see why you'd go for her, but still. Bad choice, especially as a first date.
Maybe a fifth."

Harry agreed. "Who was yours?"

Pansy's eyes rolled, "Malfoy, if you can believe it. Seemed to think it was proper to be seen.
I'll tell you now, Harry, and I don't want to seem too forward, but you do not try to feel up a
witch on the first date! And if you do, you at least- at least have a- a reaction."

Harry snorted. He well remembered the look of shame and rage on Draco's face as he
realized that Harry had seen him utterly unable to grow erect despite being dosed with Fog of
Lust several times, watching an orgy on one side, and Harry roughly using Pansy's body (and
pleasuring her too), on the other side. "Yeah, I... don't know what was up with that. The
rumors- well the report, I suppose- about him and Umbridge... Eww."

"That was the single most disgusting thing I'd ever read, and my mother kept pushing Rita
Skeeter at me," Pansy muttered darkly. "I can't believe I ever... eww. No."

Which, now that she mentioned it, made Isabella Ross' seeming delight at sucking Malfoy's
cock, and her eagerness to go with him into the Vanishing Cabinet seem pretty odd. She was
dosed, he realized, or under a Compulsion to have sex with him. A cum-pulsion? Heh... no...
or... or she was Imperiused. The look in her eyes... it had to be. That one bloke said he saw
her eyes glassy, too. Shit. He's gotten good at that spell, then. Fuck. We'll have to be careful if
we ever meet, or go after him.

But Harry pushed those thoughts away as they finally passed the horrendous tea shop.
Eventually, they found themselves past most of the crowd, and Harry was stricken by the
strange urge to take Pansy on yet a bit more of a walk. She frowned, but did not protest as
they passed the stile at the far end of the village, and then left the road to go up into the hills.
Soon they were hidden by trees, and climbing still higher, steeper. That was when Pansy
started protesting. "Come on, Harry, where are you taking me? My shoes aren't meant for-
aah!"

He caught her quickly, thankfully, with a hand under her bum and one arm around her back,
setting the young woman back her her feet, "It's not much farther. Just a little cave."

He didn't know why, precisely, he had the sudden urge to bring her there. But the place where
Sirius had been hiding out for so long seemed quiet, out of the way. When he stopped outside
the small cave, Pansy gave him a very cold stare. "I hope you didn't bring me out all this way
to shag, Potter. I will not sully my clothes here. A bed will do, if you are desperate."

Harry snorted, shaking his head, and transfigured a large stone Sirius had used as a chair once
upon a time into a couch, instead. "Of course. Gryffindor colors? Really?"

"I didn't bring you here to shag," Harry said with a laugh, pulling her in, then using his wand
to summon a few branches, arranged them in the long-unused firepit, and lit it before pulling
her down to sit next to him.
"I brought you here to talk, quietly and away from prying eyes."

"How did you know about this place?" Pansy asked, not truly concerned as she had been a
few moments ago. "I've never heard of a cave up here. Never been past the village."

"My godfather," Harry said quietly, "Sirius Black. He used to stay here, when he was on the
run. Close enough to help if needed, but hidden and mostly free of danger."

"Someone would've seen the fire," she pointed out, gesturing at the still-visible rooftops.
They were less than eight hundred feet from the nearest house, though high above them.

"Magic. Probably used spells to hide it. He did have a wand, after all. Also, an Animagus.
Big black dog."

"Oh. That... I suppose that would do it. What other secrets are you hiding, P- Harry?"

He ignored, once again, her slipping back into more formal speech. She was trying, and as
long as she was, he wouldn't call her on it. Instead, he sighed, "Let me start at the beginning."

It took two hours to explain what he knew about his life, from the time Voldemort had killed
his parents, to being raised by the Dursleys and how terrible they were, how little he had.

Pansy had been strangely sympathetic, snarling at one particular mention of abuse at Vernon's
hand, and muttering, "That explains the rags you used to wear, at least. I'm glad to see even
muggles can look fashionable. At least you do, now."

Their adventures in the first year, the suspicion of Snape at first, and who the true thief of the
Philospher's Stone had been. Second year, and the giant spiders, the Horcrux. He didn't use
the word, and only vaguely mentioned the diary's powers. Only that it had possessed a
student and made her open the Chamber, releasing Slytherin's Monster into the school, and
what it was. How he and Ron had saved her and destroyed the book, slaying the beast in the
process at the near cost of his own life.

There, she had taken up his arm and examined the scar, still visible, from the Basilisk's fang
with amazement, but said not a word.

Third year, how they'd been so sure that Sirius was trying to kill him, up until the fateful
encounter in the Shrieking Shack. She took particular delight in hearing how Harry had
bullied (though he said he felt no shame for this particular act) Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle
with the invisibility cloak when Ron and Hermione had visited the same shack earlier in the
year.

Fourth year, she knew more about, but Harry told her a lot of what wasn't public knowledge.
Details about their preparations for the dragons, how Harry had been among the first to find
out what they were. What actually happened beneath the lake, and in the Maze. Then, with a
serious look, he told her about Voldemort's return to power, and how Cedric Diggory had
been brought back, dead. How he'd seen the shades of his parents, brought out of Voldemort's
wand by his will and glowing beads of light.
Pansy had no idea what it meant, and Harry didn't bother explaining, but was amazed all the
same.

Fifth year, she knew full well almost everything. Even most Slytherins, especially those on
the Inquisitorial Squad, aside from perhaps Draco, hated her. But she was useful to them, so
they went along with it. Even Harry couldn't blame the House of the Ambitious for that. He
skipped over a lot of the details leading up to Lilith, but described the acts she performed
both before and after, and, when she gave him a questioning look, exactly who and how he'd
lost his virginity to.

"Daphne," Pansy snickered, "I should've known."

It was then Harry's turn to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"That bint," she teased in reply, shaking her head, "I love her, but she's so... blind, sometimes.
We all knew she preferred Tracey, of course, after our second year. Milly and I saw them
kissing once. We didn't care. Why would we? Plenty of witches through the years have gone
to each other for company when their husbands were... lacking, or cruel. It's not a stretch to
imagine them enjoying it even more than their spouse. But they tried to hide it for so long.
Then she goes and shags you in a public place, late at night or not, when you're both out-of-
bounds, and still tries to hide it? Ridiculous."

"I guess," Harry shrugged, "but back then, I was too... not embarrassed. If anything, I was
proud I'd shagged someone so beautiful. But it was still so new, and... I didn't know how to
take it. So I just left her alone."

"Probably good that you did," Pansy acknowledged, giving him a pointed look, "If you'd
openly pursued her out of some misguided sense of loyalty or obligation, you would have
brought her and Tracey both a great deal of trouble, not least of which from me. She might
actually have been in real danger."

Harry nodded. He hadn't considered that, but Pansy was probably right. She would know
Slytherin's reactions to that news better than he would, for sure.

The tale continued, moving a bit faster now, as he glossed over adding first Ron, then
Hermione, and slowly picking up Neville and then Hannah, adding them to the little group,
along with other trysts unnamed and only distantly mentioned, until he explained his
motivations at the time for going up to the tower. He pointedly did not apologize, but Harry
still felt it might help her to know that he had gone up there to learn something, not to take
advantage of or hurt anyone.

Pansy took it in stride, let him explain, then waved her hand, "Keep going," without
acknowledging it too much.

The last bit he covered was the gap between that time, a brief overview of his summer,
including how his life at the Dursleys' had changed even more drastically than at school.

"And I suppose muggle pussy feels just as good for you? Men, not just you in particular."
Harry could only shrug and nod.

Pansy didn't say anything else about it. He hadn't even mentioned the inhabitants of Little
Whinging he'd shagged, she had just assumed, and rightly.

"Then, well, you were upset, that day, and Daphne came to me for help. Then, your shower,
your bed... you know that part."

Pansy grinned, "I remember, yes."

"Not too much else since, but there have been a few things. L- Wait, you know about
Lavender. She was there when we did your Runes."

"Sexy w- er... yes. Her. The slag."

Harry grinned, "You think Lavender is sexy, hmm?"

"Well, she is," Pansy tried to defend, pinking once more and looking firmly down at the fire,
"It'd be useless to deny it."

"But you like what she did to you."

"Of course I did," Pansy hissed furiously, "I was- was mad with lust, that day."

"Alright, I'll stop teasing... but I'm not forgetting that. It's fine, of course, you can have at her
all you want. Obviously, I don't care. That's about caught up, though."

Pansy let herself lean against him, warmed by his presence and the fire, despite it still being
rather chilly in the dark cave. Eventually she sighed, "I suppose I haven't much else to tell.
We haven't got new information, we're basically cut off. Milly is hoping to learn a little
during the break, but since we can't trust the portraits at her house, we're going to have to
remove them, or Stun them if not. The whole time we're there."

"That's unfortunate," Harry told her, pulling the young woman a bit closer as she shivered.
"We can go, if you want. Three Broomsticks for a late lunch, then back to the Castle?"

"So- sounds good," Pansy said with a yawn, "I'd like a shag today at some point, but the
castle is probably safer."

"What, not right here, in a dingy cave, lit by a romantic fire?"

"No," Pansy snorted, "Maybe next time, when it's warmer. I don't fancy my nips falling off in
the cold, thanks."

"Ah... good point. I imagine I might be less impressive myself."

"Full of yourself? Not that you don't have reason."

Harry grinned as he pushed up and offered her a pair of hands to rise as well. "As the lady
says. I shrunk my broom, if you'd prefer to get back faster. Might be cold."
"No," she shuddered, "I'll walk, thank you. The streets won't be as crowded, and I don't want
to seem uncouth riding side-saddle with a man. Or a whore, wearing pants and straddling it
with one."

Harry blinked. "Is... is that a thing? What about Quidditch?"

Pansy chuckled as she held out a hand for him to take, silently asking him to help steady her
as she crossed the same rocky patch she'd slipped on before. "In my experience, most female
Quidditch players may as well be whores, even if they're skilled. I've heard from more than a
few sources the Harpies lay with each other after every practice, and bring in more if they
win a game. But that's neither here nor there. It's riding with a man that's the issue, Harry.
You get the imagery, I'm sure. A long piece of wood between our legs, a man behind us?"

"Well, yes," he agreed, "but surely not everyone assumes...?"

"It's not assumed," she emphasized, then lifted her hands in a very muggle gesture of air-
quotes, "It's 'known' that unmarried women who ride brooms with unmarried men are
spreading their legs for him. And me, a pure-blood daughter, disowned or not, wearing pants
doing so? I'd be seen as a harlot for certain."

"Well," Harry said reasonably as they reached more level ground, still mostly hidden by trees,
and pulled her against him to press her against his front, "You're my little harlot, for what it's
worth."

This time, the Slytherin's former 'princess' actually snorted, and grinned up and back at Harry
while she ground her rear in a circle against him, "There's a definition of our relationship,
then. Friends, with benefits yes, and I'm your personal whore. That works... for now. And
only in private, obviously."

"For a given definition of privacy, yes," he agreed at once, laughing as her private little smile
changed to a most affronted scowl. "Come on, we should get a move on. I'm starting to get
hungry."

The Three Broomsticks was surprisingly quiet at this time of afternoon, but Harry was
pleased to see Ron and Hermione sitting with a few members of the D.A. at a full table,
leaving him and Pansy free to sit in one of the smaller, four-seat booths. She chose to sit
across from him, but rested her feet on his lap after slipping out of her tall boots and setting
them beneath the table. "Ouch," she hissed, wiggling her toes.

Harry grinned, "Begging for a foot-rub? I'll oblige, but you could just ask."

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Fair point. Like the socks, by the way."

Pansy quirked her head for a moment, then shrugged. "No idea what the symbol means, I just
like the colors."

Harry leaned in over her feet while wrapping his hands around one, "Comfortable?"
"Very, actually. It's why I wore them. And warm."

"They're muggle, you know. Newcastle United is a football club."

Pansy blinked, looking at her feet through the table as her toes wiggled again, "I didn't know.
They're selkies though. Aren't they?"

"Or Hippocampi, maybe," Harry shrugged, "Hagrid would know better than me. Or sea-
horses. Nonmagical creature. I'm not a big footie fan, but I can ask if you care."

"Who would know such an obscure thing?" Pansy asked, seeming genuinely curious.

Harry didn't have to go far. "Well, Dean Thomas is a Westham fan, but he seems to follow the
sport pretty closely, he'd probably know. Or I can ask some folks during the break. You aren't
ticklish. Darn."

Pansy snorted, rolling her pretty eyes, "No, I'm not. You'd already have found the spot if I
was, sorry. That feels pretty nice, by the way. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said with an easy mile as Madame Rosmerta walked up.

"What can I get you dears?"

"The lunch special if you've any left," Harry said when Pansy gestured to him expectantly,
her eyes glinting mischievously, "for myself... and for the lady, let's do scallops and salmon, a
salad on the side. I'll just drink butterbeer. For her... a sparkling wine, white."

"Right on it, dears. Shouldn't be more than I'd say... ten minutes. I'll bring the drinks out
sooner."
 Un-Private Time

A/N:
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Chap. 60: (Un)Private Time

As the proprietress moved away, taking another order on her magical tablet, Pansy lifted her
eyebrows while Harry switched feet. "I'm actually impressed. Truly. You had the confidence
to assume, and correctly, that I like fish and scallops. You picked a good wine, too. Too bad
it's sparkling."

Harry shrugged as if it weren't a big deal, and turned his eyes down to the other foot for a
moment to hide his own slight embarrassment. "I... well, I know a bit about food, that's all.
I've noticed you once or twice this year in the Great Hall, and you do seem to enjoy some
things more than others."

Pansy grinned, her already-rubbed foot suddenly shifting to between his legs, where the balls
of her feet began to rub softly. "Well, then. You even pay attention! You are truly a catch,
Harry. I think that deserves a reward."

He groaned as her foot moved a little faster, quickly coaxing his penis to full length.
Unfortunately, it went down his trouser leg. Pansy noticed quickly, and soon shifted down in
her seat a little to run her foot up and down it, not helping Harry's situation at all. He couldn't
even say it felt very good. It hurt, more than anything, because of the odd angle, but the
eroticism of Pansy trying to get him off with a foot-job in a public space as well-known as
the Three Broomsticks was something else.

"You'll need to stop soon," Harry groaned, "because it's sort of working, but- but Rosmerta's
coming back."

Pansy frowned, but did as he suggested. Conversation throughout their lunch was more light,
while Harry tried to explain the differences between football and Quidditch. His friends and
the D.A. straggled a bit longer, but left before Pansy had cleared half the plate. Soon, they
were the last students left. Hogsmeade, for all its fun the first few years, got a bit old by the
time you were in sixth or seventh, and most of the pleasure was had in the first two hours or
so, visiting the shops.

Half an hour later, Pansy looked up at the snow-covered Shrieking Shack, then turned away.
"I was going to suggest we simply do it in there now that I know it's not haunted, but it seems
far too drafty."

"That it is," Harry agreed. He wanted to get to it, as well. Pansy's foot-based teasing had
resumed the moment the last students had left, and had continued until they had risen to
leave, the bill paid by Harry of course. Her own admission of wanting to shag at some point
only made him more randy, but it seemed they would wait. The carriages were all in use, so
they couldn't even get... wait. One was coming up the path now. If they hurried...

The wheel's creaking told Harry they were about fifty feet away. The path wasn't far off.

"Carriage," he said quickly.

"Oh... yes, let's."

She followed his hand, hurrying quickly but not quite running, and the Thestrals stopped as
Harry raised a hand. "Anyone inside," he called.

"Er... yeah," a male voice called, unfamiliar, "but we're, uh, a bit busy."

He and Pansy shared a look, but her face was unreadable. "Is there room?"

"I said we're busy," the voice shouted, and the door opened to reveal a shirtless boy of about
fifteen. "Er... Potter?"

"Yes," Harry replied, "Sorry, I'm not sure of your name. I know you're busy. We want to shag,
but it's cold. Can we join you for the ride, at least? We won't be a bother."

The young man grunted in surprise, then turned to duck his head into the carriage. He heard a
female voice hiss something back, then he stuck his head out to look at Pansy, and back in.
Thirty seconds later, blushing madly, he was back again. "She- my girl, she- she said if- if
you let her, um, s- suck you, you can come. Both of you."

Harry turned to Pansy, who gave him a steely look. "What's the problem, Harry? I'm cold.
Go."
"I think I do love you," he murmured suddenly, his face breaking into a wide smile. He didn't
even know who the girl was, but a blow-job was almost always fun.

He hadn't expected Lavender, but was pleased to see the girl, her shirt hanging open and
without a bra, her skirt on, but scarlet knickers around one ankle. The boy was indeed
shirtless, and a not-inconsiderable bulge hid (not very well) what they'd just been doing.
"Didn't think you'd say no, Harry," Lavender said breathlessly, eyeing Pansy for a moment.
"Parkinson."

"Brown. Go on, get to sucking."

"Er..."

Harry grinned as he opened his trousers and sat down next to Lavender, who immediately
twisted in the seat and bent to wrap her lips around his shaft, her hand already pumping at his
lower half. "What's your name, mate?"

"M- Malcom. Malcom Donahue."

Harry sighed as he leaned back, resting his hand on Lavender's now well-practiced head as
she started bobbing, the pressure increasing a little with every pump. "Have a seat, you look
tense. Pansy doesn't bite unless you ask her to."

He shot a nervous glance at the Slytherin, who was already sitting opposite Lavender and
pulling her gloves off in the magically-warmed cabin. He did sit after a moment, clearly
hesitant, and kept glancing at Lavender. "Sorry for interrupting your shag or whatever," Harry
apologized, "but I'm sure Lavender will want more. As long as you don't finish too early,
anyway. So... gods, you're getting good at this, Lavender. Shit. Anyway. If you ask nicely,
Pansy might give you a hand-job if you want, too. Nothing else today, I'm afraid, from her.
Or be patient. Once we get to the castle, we'll be out of your hair."

"I- I told her, I'd..." the younger boy trailed off, his eyes now moving between Harry's face,
his crotch, and Pansy, who was watching the action studiously, but without apparent disgust
or affection. "I mean... aren't you, like... on a date? With her?"

Harry nodded, "I assume you asked out Lavender?"

The boy nodded.

"She's- ugh- damned good. Lucky bloke."

"I've, er... we've done it," Malcom whispered.

"Cool."

That was all Harry said as the blonde girl bobbed on him. He didn't need to explain to this kid
(though he was only a year younger, give or take) why Lavender was so free with her
affection. It wasn't his business. But he was grateful all the same. "Look, I'm not going to rat
you out. If we'd gotten an empty carriage, I'd be balls-deep in Pansy. For all I care, you can
put it in Lavender right now, I bet she's dripping."
The young man groaned, a longing look roaming over his interrupted date's body. Lavender
herself only reacted by shooting him a thumbs-up, then reaching back to hike up her skirt and
move to kneel on the bench.

Then he looked to Pansy, of all people. She said nothing, only jerked her head toward
Lavender's hind end as if to say, Well? Get on with it!

Unfortunately, Malcom didn't seem to understand Slytherin body language. Harry took one
more bit of pity on him, "That was an invitation, mate. Seriously. Lav wants you to pull it out
and stick it in her juicy little cunt, and pound her until you cream. Isn't that right, Lavender?"

"Mmmmmm," she moaned on his cock.

Harry grinned, patting her head, "See?"

"But... but your date is..."

"Not going to have sex with you," Pansy said flatly.

"N- No, I mean- I mean you're... not..."

"I don't object to what Harry is doing," she said, "Nor Miss Brown. Nor do I care what you
do. I appreciate you allowing me to warm up. That is the extent of how much I care."

"Er.. r- right."

It took a few seconds for the shy boy to fumble out of his pants, but he moved behind
Lavender with some alacrity and shoved a moderately-large erection into her snatch
smoothly, and started humping with a rough, uneven pace as his hands dug into her rump.

Lavender moaned all the same, her throat flexing around Harry as she sighed over his cock.

He let it build and build, the teasing pressure that Pansy had started building in the Three
Broomsticks mounting ever higher, but he didn't climax. He wanted to wait. Instead, Malcom
finished by blowing his load over Lavender's arse about two minutes before they passed the
gates, and collapsed into the corner opposite Pansy, gasping for breath. Lavender gamely kept
sucking.

Harry only looked over her, "Congratulations, your first threesome. Sort of. Don't feel you
were inadequate, I'm a lot more used to it than you. Come on, Lavender. Oh... oh yeah. There
we go… All the way down."

But Harry still forced himself to tuck his erection into his pants by folding his belt around
him with it facing up against his stomach as they climbed from the carriage and hurried into
the castle as a light snow began to fall.

Two halls and a turn later, Pansy glanced about, then raised up on her toes to kiss him again.
"That was an adequate date, Harry. I especially liked the carriage ride back... a nice
performance for that young man. But I would like a finisher, still. Your new bedroom awaits,
I hope?"
"That it does, my lady," Harry said with a grin, pushing open the door behind him.

There was no one in the common area, and all the actual bedroom doors were shut. That's
why he was surprised to enter the dungeon to find it occupied. "Astoria? What are you doing
in here?"

The young witch straightened up from where she had bent to examine some of the toys and
implements on the far wall behind his new bed and spun to face him and Pansy, who had
followed behind him after removing her boots, gloves, and cloak in the room she shared with
the younger girl temporarily

"O- Oh, H-Harry. And Pansy! Oh... shit, I... I mean... I was just, er..."

Astoria's clear shame and embarrassment at being caught out in his room, snooping, would
have been fierce enough, Harry was sure. But watching her try to come up with some excuse
for poking her nose into what was, his new bedroom or not, still a sex dungeon was an
entirely new animal, and it amused him greatly. Even if he knew Daphne would have kittens
if she heard about this. "Frankly, I don't personally care if you're in here," Harry told her after
she had sputtered for a few seconds more, "but you know full well your sister would murder
you, and probably castrate me."

"That is, if your parents don't beat her to it," Pansy told her coldly, coming up to stand beside
Harry and crossing her arms. "Your father in particular is very protective of you."

Harry of course hadn't met either of the Greengrass girls' parents, but the note he had written
when they had smuggled Astoria to him in what amounted to magically-induced cryogenic
hibernation last summer had told Harry quite a lot about them. They would risk anything for
their daughter's health and safety. Even if it put her in a little risk too. He sighed, "Look,
you're still a bit young for all this. Later on, like next year, I won't complain if you want to
ask me about all of it, but for now, can you not come into my bedroom uninvited?"

"After all," Pansy added, just as coldly, "we are guests here. You would not abuse your host's
trust by snooping in their home, would you?"

At least Astoria looked suitably chastised as, still red-faced, she twisted a stocking-clad foot
against the floor, looking down at it. "No... no, I wouldn't."

"Yet you did. Go find something else to do, young lady."

Harry was impressed at the commanding tone Pansy had managed, without making her seem
bossy or rude. If anything, he thought it sounded more like an older sister or maybe a young
mother reminding a child (as Astoria was, even more technically than he and Pansy as well)
that they could still put them over a knee if they misbehaved again. Astoria kept looking
down as she hurried past them. She didn't say a word either, only shut the door as she passed.

Pansy huffed, then withdrew the wand she kept in a holster at the back of her waist, he could
now see without her cloak covering it, and murmured, "Silencio," at the door, followed by a
simple locking charm, a version Harry knew was proof against the commonly-known
Unlocking Charm Hermione had learned in their first year.
"Color me surprised," Harry groaned, casting his eyes at where he thought Astoria might be
through the walls, "I didn't expect her to be in here at all."

Pansy shrugged, "It's not your fault, Harry. She always was a curious thing, according to
Daphne. Of course, if you didn't have all of this out all the time, she might not have found it."

"Yes, well," he grumbled, "I don't have as much storage space as I'd like, and some of them
are rather bulky."

"Ever hear of shrinking charms?"

Harry blinked. "Oh. Yeah. A- Anyway. I believe you said you wanted to shag, right?"

Pansy smirked at him for a moment, almost a sneer really, then nodded. "I silenced the door
for a reason. The sooner you get my clothes off the sooner you can... what was your word?
Ravish me?"

Her deadpan expression didn't tell Harry anything about what Pansy was actually thinking,
but by this point, his bond with Lilith was so great that with a moment's concentration as he
removed his own shirt, he could almost see lust radiating off the Slytherin witch in palpable
waves. He smiled as an idea struck him. He knew how to drive her just mad with it, after all.

"Strip."

Pansy blinked, "I beg your pardon? It's your job to uncover me if you're going to claim me,
Potter."

"No," Harry suddenly growled, turning a dark glower in her direction, then lifting his hands
to cup her jaw, forcing her to look up at him from very close. "You'll do as your told, harlot.
Take off every bit of clothing you're wearing, right now."

Pansy shuddered in his grip, tried to pull away, but not nearly hard enough. After a moment,
her hands rose to her hemline and took hold, lifting her shirt from the waist up. Only then did
Harry let go and step back, watching as her hands trembled while the cloth slowly rolled over
her figure. It caught on her chest, easily as large as Hermione's with just a little more sag.
Still not much, but enough the shirt took a little more work to pull past it that way. While
Pansy had it over her head, her arms still crossed inside it but before it had passed her face,
he stepped in again and grabbed hold of her lacey silver bra, yanking it down to reveal her
breasts in full.

Pansy hissed, but did not protest as he roughly grabbed her left one in both hands, giving it a
squeeze, then letting go and pulling back. Her nipples, both of them, began to stiffen and
were fully erect before she had struggled out of her shirt.

She glared at him fiercely as she let the clothing fall into one loose grip, then slip onto the
floor.

"I didn't say you could look at me, Parkinson," Harry growled. "You think we're equals? Eyes
on my feet or the floor. And keep taking it off."
Pansy swallowed, shook again briefly as if she was stricken with a sudden chill, then obeyed,
keeping her eyes down as she reached below her chest to unsnap the bra, letting it fall over
her now wrinkled shirt.

The belt, clasped with a snake belt buckle of course, came undone next, and she shimmied
the too-tight trousers around her firm buttocks and thick thighs with visible effort, causing
her tits to shake as she bent to finish the job. Harry was already stiff, but he refrained from so
much as adjusting himself in his own pants while she stepped out of them, adding the black
cloth to the pile. Pansy lifted one foot to remove the calf-high socks, and almost fell. Harry
caught her by the hair as she teetered, making Pansy yelp. But his grip was not tight enough
to truly hurt, and she hadn't fallen to the side far, so it was enough to bring her back to
upright and steady her. Nor did she complain at his continued grip while she removed the
other one.

When only her knickers, as silver and lacey as the brassiere had been remained, Harry
switched his grip from the girl's raven-black hair to her chin again, and this time lifted her to
look at him before smashing his mouth into hers roughly, his tongue immediately seeking
entrance.

Entrance he was granted as Pansy's body melted into him completely. Her return kiss was
equally passionate, but she did not fight him or his tongue so much as moved to allow him
passage as he went, allowing the barest, lightest of contact, for all the force their lips clashed
with.

Just as she was truly getting into it, Harry pulled away, then pushed on both shoulders, "Suck
it, whore."

Pansy whimpered, but nodded, immediately falling to her knees on the wood floor next to her
clothes, just inside the door of his large bedroom, and fished for his own belt. Her trembling
fingers took several tries to undo it and lower his pants, but Harry ignored it as long as she
was working hard. There would be plenty of time to punish the useless slut who couldn't even
open pants properly later.

She took him in still shaking hands nervously, lowering his shaft to her mouth to kiss the tip,
then let her tongue swirl around it a little. She was more sure this time than the last time he'd
gotten a blowjob from Pansy, in her shower near the start of the term, but she clearly still
lacked practice, for she hesitated before each and every action.

That was okay with Harry, though. He knew how to break her of that. He would let her try for
now, get comfortable with his cock in her mouth a little more, then show her how to do it
right, like Lavender or Hermione did. If he had his way, by the time they left school, Pansy
Parkinson would be a grade-A cocksucker, and not in the "Acceptable" meaning, but the
"Amazing" one.

He would make sure of it, in fact.

"You fucking suck at this," Harry growled after a few minutes of her licking him or only
taking in his cap, "Let me show you. Lift your hips a little, and lean forward onto your hands.
Come here, girl."
The he grabbed her head, pulling her center of gravity forward some more, and rammed his
entire cock, eight inches of it at the moment for her own comfort (not that he would tell her
he'd lowered his size) into her mouth. At once, Pansy gagged, her eyes widening in shock and
horror, but Harry held her nose against his abdomen for ten full seconds before he let her go.
She coughed twice, turned to the side and spat, then looked up at him with tear-filled eyes
that was already making her once gorgeous makeup run.

He thought it looked even better like this. "I hate you, Potter," she whispered.

Harry took her by the chin again and gave a little squeeze, looking her dead in the eye from
high above, and growled, "You can hate me all you like. You're still a harlot, so you will obey.
Get back to work."

She whimpered one more time, but obediently took his dick into her mouth again. She started
bobbing at once this time, more turned on that she would probably ever have admitted despite
how harshly, or because of how harshly, he had been treating her. Masochism, he decided
after taking hold of Pansy's hair with two fists and starting to thrust on his own in
counterpoint to her slower movements. She didn't really like the pain so much, but felt she
deserved to be punished. Punished for being a bitch, for being so mean to so many people.
For betraying her family and everything she'd been taught to believe growing up, maybe.
Years of abuse, mostly verbal, toward Harry and his friends.

The reasons were probably many and varied, but they likely wouldn't matter to Pansy.

She wanted to be punished, abused. Felt she deserved it.

So much so that it excited her tremendously when it happened, especially like this. And who
was Harry to shame someone for their kinks? He kind of liked it himself, as the small, dark
part of himself wanted to heap more abuse and pain onto her in return for all she had said
about them, all the cruelties she had murmured toward Hermione in particular.

He had already forgiven her, yes, and sincerely. But Harry would freely admit he was no
saint, and never had been. He could indulge in a bit of self-righteous anger and vengeance
even after doing so with no qualms at all.

So he fucked her throat relentlessly for a few minutes, making Pansy whimper and moan
around his erection, until he felt she could take no more. Only then did he unload into her
mouth and onto her face, making a true mess of her. "Hold it there, my little harlot," Harry
ordered her as she coughed and sputtered with a half-cup or so of his semen in her gaping
open mouth as her head tilted upward.

Completely unflagged, he smeared the cum around her face with his rock-hard dick, then
pushed the tip in to get a few drops more, which Harry then flicked down on to her chest,
until both full breasts were spattered with white droplets. The whole while, which took over a
minute, Pansy was made to breathe through her nose, inhaling the heady scent of him that
emanated from his cock, her mouth, and covered her whole face. Then she had to swallow it,
as he'd told her.

She deserved far worse, so Pansy obeyed.

Once the mess was mostly gone from her mouth, Harry used his dick to slap her cheeks
again, then pushed past her lips again, stroking in fully two or three more times to let her lips
clean him a bit, then stepped away.

"Now you can undress me."

Pansy didn't hesitate anymore. Instead, almost ravenously, she knee-walked forward and
helped Harry step out of his pants, socks, and boxers, then stood to pull his shirt over his
head. Without being bidden, once that was done, she sank to her knees again, taking a
subservient position that Harry found quite arousing. Not that he needed it.

But Harry put her body, as much as he wanted to mount her right there, from his mind for a
moment. He cast his eyes around the room, and eventually settled on the same sawhorse
Romilda had spent more than two weeks astride. He knew it had adjustable straps. They even
slid, which allowed the body using it to be pulled forward or back, onto the edge or allowing
it to hang off for easier access to the holes. "Up, girl. Follow me."

His command was brusque, cold, and sounded alien even to himself, but Pansy didn't hesitate
to do so. Apparently, him using her throat for pleasure so harshly had put her very much in
the mind of an obedient little whore. Hmm... a whore... and she thinks Ron's cute, she's all-
but admitted it. He liked having Romilda on this thing, too. I might have to have him come in
here when I leave for the party, and just... leave her here. That actually sounds like an
excellent idea.

He had about two hours to get ready. Plenty of time.

"Stand on this, and put your other leg over," Harry ordered, gesturing to the stirrup-step that
was used to mount the device.

As she stared at it, specifically the almost knife-edge (though a very dull one) that would, if
used properly, nestle right into her cunt's slit, she shivered again, this time with trepidation.
"H- Harry?" she whispered.

He reached down to slap her on the arse, quite hard, "I didn't say you could use my name,
harlot. It's Master or Sir. Get that arse up there before I slap it again."

"Yes, Sir," she whimpered, stepping up and obeying his instructions. Without being told to,
she slipped her ankles into the restraints just above either stirrup, using her powerful thigh
muscles to hold her over the edge. That would work for a while, he knew, but not forever.
Sooner or later she would get tired. Or he could just lower the restraints, pulling her onto it
anyway.

Once her wrists were secure too, Harry walked around her slowly, a leather cat-o'-nine in his
hands loosely slapping into his palm as he came in and out of her view. "You know how this
works, I'm sure. Sooner or later your legs will get tired, and you'll slip lower and lower until
your dirty, nasty cunt touches the edge. Maybe even right on your clit. Wouldn't that hurt?
Just thinking about it makes me wince. It's a terrible pain, from what I've been told, but I've
only had one other whore on here, and she was quite mad. So I don't honestly know if it
hurts. You'll tell me when you're done, won't you, girl?"
When Pansy took more than a second to respond, he lashed out with the leather strips,
slapping them over the opposite cheek from the one he'd slapped earlier.

Pansy yelped, then cried out in pain as her pussy dragged over the edge below it. She sobbed
after yanking herself up and away, her thighs already shaking with the strain. Good, that will
just tire her out faster.

"Answer me."

"Y- Yes, Sir. Yes, Master! It hurts!"

"Good. I want it to hurt. Because you've been naughty. Very bad, in fact. You told me to get
my dick sucked by a whore today, and you watched it. Only bad girls watch other girls
pleasure their man, don't they? Answer me!"

This time, the leather stroked across her right side, crossing between the top of her hip and
the outside of her breast, leaving six narrow, bright red welts. Harry winced at the sight, they
had raised quickly. He hadn't meant to use just the tip, hadn't wanted to actually injure. But
Pansy moaned, and he could see several droplets of moisture hitting the panels of the
sawhorse between her thighs and calves. They gathered and started running down before her
sobbing faded enough to reply, "Yes, Sir! Naughty girls- they get punished!"

"Yes," Harry said quietly, running a hand over the red mark on her arse he'd made, but this
time gently caressing it, then moving over to the whip-lash and doing the same there. "Yes...
naughty girls get punished, and good girls get rewarded. Which one are you, Pansy? I
wonder."

She didn't say anything, but Harry didn't lash out. He actually wanted her to think about it,
this time. As he moved around her head again, he saw the girl's eyes fasten on his dick, which
stood out in front of him now about ten inches, back to almost normal. "What? You want
this? Are you thinking about my cock in your slutty little mouth, whore? Or in your dirty,
nasty little cunt?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

Harry dropped the short whip, stepped up to her head, and jammed his cock as far into her
mouth as it would go, then reached around to grab either of her breasts. They were pressed
roughly into the sawhorse and spread by it already, so he had good access only from the
sides, but he mauled them harshly for almost twenty seconds while she gagged and choked
on him, utterly unprepared to be penetrated.

She spit up, almost vomiting as he yanked himself free and stepped to the side, bending down
to grab the whip again before standing up and letting it trail softly down her spine. "You have
a very nasty mouth, too. I bet you suck every cock that comes your way. You would've
sucked that kid's earlier, wouldn't you? If he'd just had the balls to ask."

Pansy blushed, but shook her head, "No, sir! My dirty mouth- it's only for you, sir!"
"Liar," Harry hissed, shoving a finger, then two more, into it and pulling on her cheek,
yanking her whole head to the side to look up at him at a very awkward angle. "Tell the truth.
How many dicks have been in your mouth, slut?"

She whimpered on his fingers, trying to work her jaw enough to answer without biting him.
Harry had mercy after a few second and let go. "T- two, Master. Just two. Yours and- and-
and W-"

"Who?" He already knew, of course. He'd been there. Seen the shame burning across her
face. The same shame growing there now as she remembered, tried to get the word out.

"W-Weasley."

"Ronald Weasley? You sucked that guy's cock?"

She nodded, her body squirming on the device, but not quite enough to lower her onto the
edge again. Harry slapped down on her arse with his open palm, driving her cunt into the
horse, and she cried out again, then a second time, even louder, when he repeated it. "Ow! I'm
sorry, Sir, I'm sorry!"

"For what? What are you apologizing for, harlot?"

"For sucking his cock, Sir!"

He smacked her again, then spun the handle of the whip in his hand and pushed it up against
her pussy lips, which were swollen and dripping. She froze still at the alien object touching
her there, which left the edge driving into her crotch at a slight angle from the top left to the
bottom right. Wow, she's taking it like a champ.

Then he pulled it and his hand away and moved back to her front, squatting and resting his
arms on his knees. About level with her, Harry said reasonably, "I don't care if you suck
Weasley's cock, harlot, because that's what you are. Harlots suck dicks. Don't they?"

She nodded.

"I care," he added while standing again, and angling his penis to rub his head around her lips,
but not letting her take it in even when she reached for it, pulling against the restraints to suck
on him. "I care that you enjoyed it. Naughty girl... slutty, whorish girls like sucking dick.
Good wives and women let their husbands get pleasure from them, don't they?"

He was taking a gamble on what she'd been taught as a girl, knowing that while wizarding
society was very egalitarian as far as gender roles, in the home they were still very much
'traditional' in many cases. Especially, he suspected, the older pure-blood families.

Patriarchal, all of them, after all.

Pansy whimpered, stopped fighting the restraints to get at him, and nodded before letting her
head fall limply against the front of it. "Yes, sir."
"That's what we have back here, too, isn't it? A slutty hole used by men to get their pleasure.
But you like having it used, don't you? You like being an object for them to look at,
something to put their dirty members in, and use."

"Yes," she whispered, quite softly.

He slashed across her cunt with the whip, and she jerked, her hips moving in a wide circle
that ended with them bouncing off the edge again with another cry. "What was that?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Better. Well... we've gotten some progress in today. We've established that you're a dirty,
nasty harlot, a slut, a slag, and a whore. You like sucking dicks and taking them in your dirty
fuck-hole. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir!"

This time, the cry was loud, sure, and without any hint of shame.

It made Harry proud, even as it stoked his libido to even higher levels. This time, when he
put the whip handle against her pussy, Pansy actually pushed back against it, eagerly
mounting it despite the flat tip. She even moaned as it went inside an inch or two.

Harry snorted, switched his grip and flat-palmed it, pushing the handle all the way inside,
then used two fingers to push it in further until it stopped as Pansy gasped. Two full inches of
the whip, plus about six for the handle, were completely inside her, and the rest dangled out
to tickle at her feet the way she was mounted. It wasn't too thick, only about an inch, but
Harry knew it was enough to feel. And it had gone in so smoothly, because Pansy was
drenched. He smiled, came around to her front and cupped both tear- and makeup- laden
cheeks as he crouched again, then leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly. "You've done
well, then. It's good to admit what we are. As a reward, I'm going to punish you in a way
you'll enjoy. Don't tense up."

It was the only warning he got as Harry stood smoothly and crossed to her rear again, angled
himself down to gather some of her juices on his cock, then spit onto her little brown star and
pushed in smoothly, burying his entire ten inches into her rectum at once.

Pansy didn't exactly tense up.

She seized, hard, her entire body convulsing as he pushed past her, and didn't let up until after
he was already bent low over her, one hand roving her back gently, the other on her jaw, "Ssh,
ssh... let it out, let it go. Relax, Pansy. It hurts so much less, remember?"

"I... I hate you so much," she whimpered, but didn't tell him to take it out.

Harry only chuckled, "I know. But your arse is amazing, I couldn't resist. Don't you feel so
good, with that thing in your tight little cunt, and my dick in your bum?"

Pansy only whimpered.

Harry reached down then, sliding his hand beneath her body and past her warm, soft and flat
stomach to slide between the sawhorse and her pussy. "Ah... somebody's tender," he hummed
when she jerked at his touch, "but this will help."

He started working her clit slowly with his fingers, circling the hood back and forth a few
times before he bent down, all tenderness and gentle touches, as he kissed down her
shoulders and back, slowly withdrawing inch by inch until only his head was still spreading
her brown star. Then he went back up, just as slowly.

When he bottomed out in her arse again, Pansy was breathing fast, moaning softly with each
breath, and the heat emanating against his hand, along with the moisture he could feel
literally dripping off his fingers told him Pansy was enjoying every moment of this. "I'm
going to cum in your ass," he told her firmly, but not unkindly this time. "I'm going to mount
you like an animal and cum in your ass so hard you'll feel it next week. That's your reward,
Pansy. Your reward for being my good little harlot."

She didn't say anything, only sighed as a mild orgasm was coaxed out by the objects, living
and leather, stuffed into her holes and his fingers as they continued to play with her sensitive
bits.

Harry stood up, one hand kneading into the more mild welts he'd left on her left bum-cheek,
the other stretching to cup her right breast from the side, then bending a bit more to tweak
and pull at her nipple as it began to swing with his slow, measured thrusts.

It was almost more than he could take, but Harry wasn't quite ready to end things quickly.

No... he wanted her to scream his name as he did it. So Harry pulled out, not bothering to
explain as she whimpered and jerked at the sudden emptiness. He crossed the room to their
clothes, picked up his wand, and hurried back. A quick incantation, learned from Hermione,
had the whip-handle vibrating. Pansy moaned louder, and as he pushed back into her anus she
groaned a long, husky, "Yeessss..."

At half-way in, he slapped one cheek, watching as it bounced off the other around his cock,
then the other side, before reaching for Pansy's hair again, yanking back on her head roughly.
"You like that, harlot?"

"Yes, oh, Circe, I do! Please, Sir! Fuck my arse!"

"I intend to."

He kept his grip on her head, hauling it back like he had with another girl just the day before,
and started moving faster, pumping furiously between half and all the way in. He could feel
Pansy's gut stretching and moving with everything he did, the heat and tightness of it coaxing
out a powerful climax all too quickly.

"Your dirty arse is making me cum," he grunted, bending down over her again, his balls
resting against the vibrating, shaking leather straps as he grabbed onto both tits now, and
started humping like a dog, faster and faster. "I'm gonna cum in your dirty back door, you
filthy, nasty girl. You like that idea, don't you? You want my filthy sauce in there! You want
to shit white for days, don't you!"

Pansy didn't speak, she couldn't, he was driving the air from her too much, forcing her cunt
down onto the edge too fast. It hurt, so badly. She loved it. The pleasure his handle and dick
were giving her, the helplessness she felt inside the straps, it was too much.

Pansy screamed his name, "Harry, I'm coming, Harry!"

That was enough. He ruptured, all sense leaving him as he continued to pump, but adding
additional thickness to his rod as great gouts of seed left his body at pressure, spraying like a
fire-hose deep into her intestines for more than a minute.

Her belly was actually a little swollen, Harry could have sworn, when he eventually pulled
out, leaving a half-inch thick trail of his cum flecked with bits of brown to ooze down, past
her taint and into the leather straps. "Fuck," he gasped, reaching down to caress each cheek,
then bending to kiss one and then the other, before pulling the whip out at last. He moved
over to the shelf, his wand cleaning it and ceasing the vibration as he went, then crossed over
to Pansy, crouching once more in front of her.

She was delirious, barely responsive, but the wide smile that adorned her face told Harry she
was well pleased by his actions, no matter what she'd said. "I think that was pretty useful," he
said with a pleased smile, "but after your reward, you still need a punishment for being such a
filthy slut. So I'm going to leave you here until later. You won't be able to fight back. Or pee.
Or anything else. I'll make sure you get something to eat and drink before too long. Enjoy
being used, harlot."

Then he crossed to the opposite corner of his room without another word, gathered up the
equally nice robes he would be wearing to Slughorn's party, and crossed the common room to
the shower. He passed Ron and Hermione, who were kissing on the couch and seeming
oblivious to his presence in silence, and stepped into the shower.

At the very least, he had to be clean, his penis wiped free of whatever was in Pansy's
stomach, and the slowly-drying semen. There was still more than an hour, he had time, but it
wouldn't do to waste it.

Half-way through his shower, Lilith's delighted mental voice came through, "Master, that's
the largest present you've left me in weeks!"

He chuckled and sent back, "You can have some if you like, but mostly the present is for Ron.
She's got a mild crush, I think."

"I just mean your cum, Master, but if you want I can remind her that licking pussy is fun,
too."

"You do that, Pet. Enjoy. If I don't catch you or him later, I want Ron to have some fun with
her, but anyone is able. Even Warrington if he happens to be in later. But anyone can have a
go."
Her reply was nearly as lust-filled as his own had been a short time ago, but also amused, "I'll
try to let them know. Ron will be pleased, I'm sure, to put a dirty snake in her place."

The conversation dried up as he was toweling, but Lilith still sent him a very appealing view
from Lyra's perspective, her hips thrust forward into Pansy's not entirely eager mouth, the
half-Japanese girl's firm, perky tits, even bigger than Pansy's, the only thing obscuring the
otherwise perfect view. Without detracting from it at all, of course.

"That's why I love you, Pet. You give me good presents, too."

Her mental giggle made Harry smile as he entered the common room again. "Hey, Ron,
Hermione."

His ginger best mate looked up from between their mutual girlfriend's legs, chin moist,
"Yeah, mate?"

Harry jerked his head toward his room, "Pansy's on the sawhorse. Thought you'd like to
know. Er, don't bugger her. There's a mess she's holding in there. But you can enjoy if you
want. You too, Hermione."

"Oh. Okay," the witch murmured, then tugged on Ron's hair, pulling him back into her crotch.

As he left them, he marveled at how much they, especially Hermione, had changed.

He had no regrets at all about any of it, except the deaths of his friends in the Department of
Mysteries. But even that, Harry knew, lay in other people's hands.

All he could do, anyway, was move forward.

And despite spending almost three hours a day getting his rocks off, Harry had never felt
stronger, more powerful, either physically or magically.

Lilith had been good for him, and he knew it.

I really do need to get Ron to take the other set of Runes during the break, but there's got to
be more we can do to prepare. Maybe even take a bit of the fight to ol' Voldy. Not sure what,
just yet, but there's got to be something. Oh, and we- I've- got to take Astoria to her first
treatment, too. Gods, I hope it works. A girl that sweet doesn't deserve that malediction. Even
if she is too curious for her own good.
 Life of the Party
Chapter Summary

Mild(?) Trigger Warning this chapter: Sex without Harry involved (he does consent
though).
Also it's Slughorn's party, so shenanigans will happen. ;)

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on FFnet.
Same author name. The stories there are just posted a week or two ahead of what I've been
doing here (with the exception of FwB, which is a couple months ahead still). So if you want
to read more, just head over there. Believe I just posted chapter 44 there.

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 90 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

As the chapter note says, this is Slughorn's Party. There's some sexuality without Harry
involved (though he knows about it and consents in advance)... and Luna. <3 that girl. ;)

Enjoy!

Chap. 61: Life of the Party

Harry was delighted with Luna's choice of wardrobe when they met in the entry hall, almost
exactly where he'd met with Pansy about eight hours earlier. Even though he had definitely
specified they would be going as friends, Luna Lovegood had pulled out all the stops, it
seemed. In fact, next to her shimmering, almost sparkling silver dress robes, his own jet-
black, Acromantula-silk robes seemed painfully simple and understated. The little bit of red
and green he had used as accents on his temporarily color-charmed buttons were the only real
nod to the season he had made. Luna didn't wear either of those. In fact, the only
ornamentation he could see aside from her dress and a surprisingly beautiful up-do in her
thick, wavy, silver-blonde hair was the golden necklace she wore, which carried a large
pendant in the shape of a heart, on which was engraved the Ravenclaw House crest. But as
Luna saw him in turn, she pinked slightly from a dozen or so feet away, and shyly ran a hand
through her hair to push several spun-silver locks behind an ear, showing him her radish-like
earrings. Heh, some red at least. Goddess... how did I not notice she's this pretty? I mean,
we're just friends, but I feel like I'm a moron for asking her out that way!
He shook his head as he passed several surprised-looking students leaving the Great Hall
after dinner. Word had not gotten out to the majority of the student body, it seemed, about
Slughorn's little party. It really was invite only, then, Harry mused before turning his attention
back to his date, who looked up at him with a brilliant smile. Luna's bright blue eyes danced
with amusement, "Hello, Harry. What a surprise to see you here. Where are you headed at
such a late hour?"

He blinked, grinned, then cast his eyes about, over the heads of several of the shorter
students, and wished he was taller. It wasn't dignified, he felt, to stand on his toes to see over
nearly every other student in his year. "I was on my way to a party, and I've come to pick up
my date. Have you seen her?"

"Hmm... your date is missing? That sounds like a conundrum! If you'd like, I can help you
look for her."

Harry pretended to consider it for a moment for the benefit of those still staring at the
overdressed pair, then shrugged, "Bah, forget her. She was probably going to be boring,
anyway. I'd much rather spend time with you, Luna. Interested in a holiday party?"

"Ooh, a party? Let me think... I haven't been invited to one of those since... yesterday! I'd
love to go to a party with you, Harry!"

"Allow me then, Miss," he finished with a flourishing bow that must have looked ridiculous,
for it got several laughs from the onlookers, but made Luna giggle delightfully as he stood up
and offered her an arm. She slipped hers through his with remarkable grace, and he started
walking, leading them back into the castle.

It took a few minutes to arrive at the refurbished classroom, but Luna was, as always, oddly
easy to talk to. They didn't discuss much, really, and there was no mention of nargles,
plimpies, blibbering hum-dingers, corn-dodgers, or any other creature Harry had never heard
of. Instead, the sole topic was what they might expect from the party itself.

"I don't really know, I suppose," Harry concluded as they reached the appointed door. Music
could already be heard through it, some slow beat and soft strings that hinted at something
like what the Dursleys would have called traditional Christmas music, and would have been
mortified to hear that wizarding folk had created it. He pushed open the door after knocking
once, and a barrage for the senses crashed into them in a palpable wave.

The room beyond, magically expanded to colossal proportions, it must have been, for it
resembled a small ballroom in size, was brightly lit by thousands of fairies flittering through
silver-frocked pine limbs that draped over the ceiling from one corner to the next in a vast
network of branches. Candles borrowed from the Great Hall, or enchanted in the same way,
floated by the hundreds just overhead as well, while menorahs or similar seven-branched
candelabra sat on several round tables that lined the walls to the right, circling half the room.
There were about ten placements on each table, seating for perhaps ninety people, but Harry
suspected at least twice that were present, because the dance-floor was full to bursting. The
smells of savory ham and chicken, turkey, wassail, cinnamon-bread, and other delights
associated with the Yule holiday assaulted them too, along with the wall of sound that seemed
to somehow pervade everything happening despite the music not being terribly loud.
Instead, the volume came from the animated, cheerful chatter of more than a hundred voices,
all talking at once.

Luna paused after entering for just a moment, then looked up at him. When Harry met her
gaze, he saw the barest hint of nervousness hiding there behind her happy smile. "I don't want
to be here, either," he said quietly, hopefully reassuring her, "but I did promise Slughorn I'd
come at least once. I kind of owe him."

"I'm fine, if you're here," Luna whispered, "I just... don't like crowds much."

"I know the feeling," he promised her, then slipped a hand around her waist to hold her close.
He hadn't intended it as a romantic gesture in the least, merely as a motion to comfort her,
combined with habits grown over the last months.

Of course, just then is when their host noticed them, standing gormlessly just inside the door.

"Harry Potter," Horace Slughorn's voice boomed out, calling the attention of every single
attendee, "my young friend! And his most attractive date, as well! Miss... Lovegood! Yes,
daughter of old Xenophilius, you remember him, don't you, Francis?"

The rotund professor said something else to the trio of aged wizards he was talking to, gave
them a jovial bow, and then left the group to hurry toward Harry before he could escape. He
stopped in front of them, beaming, "Glad you could make it, glad you could make it! And
Miss Lovegood... an unexpected, but not unwelcome treat! I wonder if the media is
something you're looking for more attention from, eh, Harry? I can help you there, if you just
give me the word, ha, ha! Now, come, come, there's a few people I'd like you both to meet!"

What followed for the next hour was torturous to Harry, and not entirely pleasant for Luna,
either, as they were both (she no less than he, Harry was surprised to see, for as far as he
knew Luna was not the type for Slughorn to cultivate) introduced to several wealthy or
influential wizards and witches. More than a few dozen, in fact, for they came in groups of
two or five, and of course, not one seemed uninterested in meeting him, the famed Boy-Who-
Lived. Or, as some moronic folk had whispered as he approached or left some groups, the
'Chosen One'.

While Harry was getting a crash-course in networking and influence-building whether he

liked it or not, Ron groaned as he climaxed into his eager girlfriend's mouth for the second
time in half an hour, "Fuck, Hermione... you going to miss me, or something?"

He was hardly complaining, but the brunette seemed desperate for attention this particular
evening. In fact, she had kept blowing him right through Daphne Greengrass and Tracey
Davis entering the common area of Harry's quarters to walk into their room. And he couldn't
be sure, but he thought that both of the Slytherins, who had walked behind him of course,
might have stopped to watch for a moment! But neither had said anything, and while
Hermione had lifted her eyes to look back at them with his rod in her mouth, she hadn't
stopped, or even slowed.

In fact, the attention seemed to have spurred her on.

After she'd pulled the last bits of his cum out of his pipe, Hermione let him go with a
loud pop, then licked her lips and leaned in to kiss his tip one more time. "Yes, as a matter of
fact, I probably will. You know I love you, you prat."

"Well, I'll miss you too," he assured her, reaching out with his long arms to run a few fingers
through her gloriously bushy hair. "I wish Mum would let us just stay with you lot, but you
know how she is about the hols and family. Boxing day can't come soon enough."

"Maybe we'll come by on Christmas too, if that's alright," she shrugged, pulling on her blouse
in the meantime, for it was half off. "My parents are visiting Harry and Sirius for a few days
before anyway, so I don't see a reason we can't pop by for an hour or two."

"Your parents, at the Burrow? That'll be an eye-opener," Ron chuckled.

Hermione smiled, "Won't it? They've never seen an all-magical house before, and even being
in Diagon Alley can't prepare you for that sort of experience. Then, of course, your Dad can
ask mine all sorts of questions. And my mother can ask yours all sorts, too."

Ron had smiled at the first bit, as Hermione stood and held her hands to help him out, but
frowned at the second, pulling her into a kiss once both were upright. "What would our
Mums talk about?"

"Oh, whether it was you or Harry that deflowered me, whether or not I'm pregnant, that sort
of thing," she teased casually, making Ron turn nearly as red as his hair.

She laughed, slapped his chest, and then told him more seriously, "I need to finish packing,
though. I'm heading up to the dorms. If you see Harry tonight, tell him I'll be ready for the
train by nine."

Ron gulped. "Shit, I haven't packed! The train's tomorrow, yeah?"

Far from being put out by that sort of thing now, Hermione only rolled her eyes. Even with
late notice, somehow he always managed it, so it was no use complaining. "Leaves at ten, just
like always."

"Right. Well, I s'pose I should go pack, too."

Hermione shrugged, "You don't have to come up right away. You can go enjoy your loaned
toy for a bit. She's probably lonely." She heaved her bag, homework written entire feet of
parchment beyond what was required as usual, onto her shoulder and heading for the door
after blowing him a kiss.

"Er... you really don't mind?"

"Not a bit! Just make sure she screams your name. Or better, make her sing, 'Weasley is our
King', with your long cock buried in her throat."

After the several Slytherin-led renditions the previous year (not to mention the Gryffindor-led
one in the last game of the season), the thought did have a certain appeal. Ron grinned. "Oh,
that sounds like fun."
Not even a minute later, fully grateful for the Runes that let him climax several times a day,
as many as he wanted really, Ron strode into Harry's bedroom half-dressed and losing what
little clothing he had quickly. His erection was full within seconds of seeing how Harry had
left Parkinson. Her tits, easily as big as Hermione's if not quite as shapely, hung on either side
of the sawhorse, and her whole body rested along the edge. She seemed half-conscious at
best, for her body still quivered and shook with pain, pleasure, or both, but Pansy did not
react as he came into the room and shut the door, dropping his boxers over the pillory, the last
bit of clothing he wore.

Gods, I love Hermione, he thought, she has the best ideas!

He started humming the simple tune which had once brought him such shame and grief, as he
moved over to the girl and examined her bruised, welted body. "Damn, Harry did a number
on you," he murmured before beginning his own House's version of the song under his
breath. He let his hands roam and grace the welts, the lashes, and even rested his hands,
larger as they were, on the faint red welts that his best mate had left on the girl's arse cheeks.

A moment's consideration showed him a faint line of white, half-dried now, oozing down her
crack from her rear hole, and Ron smiled to himself. I see why Harry said don't do that.
Must've been a hell of a mess.

But her cunt was still swollen, and to the best of his knowledge, he'd never had her that way.
He'd never tasted her, either, on the night they had given her her first Runes. Shit, she's got to
have some self-control after all, he realized, if she got her Runes that long ago and isn't a
sex-crazed fiend like the rest of us already. Ron idly rubbed her nether lips' outer folds a few
times with a light touch, then kept moving around her, still tracing the angry red lines and
even tweaking her left nipple a bit on his way by, until he came to her head and crouched
down, much like Harry had before.

Now, it seemed Pansy was a little more aware of her surroundings, after having been touched
once more several times. "Ha-... wait... W- Weasley?"

"The same," he said with a grin, thoroughly enjoying seeing his girl's old nemesis thoroughly
debased like this again. "I s'pose Harry told you he left you here for me, as a present?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice shaking with something between fear and... was that lust?
Ron wasn't sure, but if he had to guess, that's what he would say.

"You want me to do it? Use you like the slut you were that one night?"

The question was casual in tone, but deadly serious, and Ron meant it. Like Harry, he
abhorred the thought of taking someone without consent, for all that they had both flirted
dangerously close to it before. If anything, their experiences with Lavender and Romilda
before her had made their reluctance worse.

"Use my slutty fuck-hole," Pansy whispered.

Ron nodded, his face carefully neutral, then stood up, his long member slapping her in the
bottom of the chin. "Okay, but you have to do something for me, first."
"Hmm...? What? I'm tied-"

"Oh, you can do it while you're there," Ron assured her with a smile, twisting one of his own
larger, pale but freckled hands into her dark hair. "I just want you to sing a little song for me.
You know it. 'Weasley is our King! Weasley is our King!'"

She tried to look up at him, but she had been on the sawhorse too long, and couldn't lift her
head more than horizontally, which put her eyes at roughly the level of the top of his thick
mass of pubic hair, which was just as orange as the lot on his head. "I- I hate that song," she
whimpered, "I was so mean... I'm so sorry."

"I'm not asking you to sing that song," Ron said cheerfully, "And I got over it, if you forgot
the last game of the year. No, sing the Gryffindor version."

"O- oh... okay... if you- if that's what you want. If you'll use m-my slutty fuck-hole after,
then... w- W-Weasley is our King. W-Weasley is our K-nmmmmmph!"

He couldn't wait, and he'd abided by Hermione's request. It was glorious, but Ron didn't want
to listen to her singing. He wanted to feel good, and the helpless Slytherin before him was
gagging for it. Literally, he chuckled, as his ten inches slammed into her throat, all the way
back thanks to the perfect height and angle she was left at, so that his pubes smashed her
once pug-nose against her face. "Ahh... that's the stuff," he groaned. Even though Hermione's
blowjobs were spectacular, life-changing even, and she'd just done it twice, he still loved the
feeling of sliding past lips, tongue, and the back of a mouth, being brushed by a uvula along
the top, and into a tight, hot throat that convulsed immediately around him.

"Fuck," he groaned, leaning down to grope Pansy's arse with both hands, then adding a few
light slaps of his own before standing up and pulling free. She hadn't moved, paralyzed by the
sudden intrusion into her body, but as he came out, she coughed and spluttered. "Sh- shit,"
another cough, "you fucker!"

"Sorry," said Ron with a grin, absolutely not sorry at all, "I just couldn't resist. Come on, I
already said I'd give you what you want. I want you to do this first. Unless you want me to
just leave."

"N- No," Pansy whimpered, her body writing over the sharp edge of the saw-horse for a
moment, wincing at the pain it caused, "I- I want it, I just- you s-surprised me. Y- You can
use my filthy mouth-hole, Weasley. Sorry I'm not very good at- at it."

"Oh, you're alright," Ron told her as he lined back up with two fingers on his shaft's base,
pointing his spear at the gap between her umber-painted lips once more. This time, while he
pushed all the way in again, Pansy didn't gag. He only stayed there for a moment, before
withdrawing and setting a slower, more casual pace, so that he could savor her combined
expressions of disgust and pleasure at what she was doing to him, along with the feelings she
provoked in his cock. Already hyper-sensitive from two mind-numbing orgasms under
Hermione's oral ministrations, Ron ceased caring that Pansy wasn't nearly as experienced or
talented at it. Her growing enthusiasm combined with that sensitivity made it quite a
pleasurable experience anyway, and before long he had to yank himself free so she could
answer a question that burned in him. "You want to taste my cum, slut?"
"Yes," Pansy moaned at once, her mouth still seeking him out even though he was far out of
her reach, "I want Weasley cum in my mouth!"

Ron snorted, "Dirty girl. Alright, you asked for it."

Then he put himself back in, stepping in so she could continue working him while he closed
his eyes and let himself fall fully into the sensations. After that, it was quick, less than
another minute, before he painted her mouth with his hot sauce. Pansy moaned as he spurted,
renewing it each time the rush of pressure left his body and entered hers, but Ron was more
sanguine about it.

After he was finished, he patted her cheek, reminded her, "Swallow it all, don't waste any,"
then crossed around to her back again. "Harry said to leave your delicious arse alone. Seems
to want that present he left you staying there. But then, I've never had a Snake's pussy
before... he also said you were a pretty good lay. So I don't mind if I do."

He didn't ask again, for she'd already said she wanted him to use her.

Ron did, sliding in effortlessly through her silky smooth channel, his long rod fitting her
amazingly well, just brushing the end of her vagina as it bent into her womb. Smooth or not,
it caressed even his relatively thin member like a vice of liquid cream, molten and warm but
so perfect. After just ten or so strokes, Ron had decided he still preferred Hermione for this,
too, but being inside a Snake wasn't so bad. In fact, as he leaned forward and claimed her
breasts with his hands, molding and reshaping them with a firm but not quite rough grip, he
could get used to this. Maybe some Slytherins aren't too bad. I mean, I'd shag her again. And
again.

It was far more than just being another willing body to get his rocks off in, Ron was a little
less shallow than that. He could freely admit, at least to himself, Harry, and Hermione, that a
large part of his motivation to get up in the morning these days was to see what pussy he
could get, but there was indeed something rare, special, about Pansy Parkinson's twat that he
had not felt before, and he could see himself coming to enjoy it quite a lot. She still had the
tightest arse he'd fucked, as if he and Harry were the only ones who'd ever used it. Wonder if
that's true.

Before him, Pansy was already writhing on the sawhorse, even grinding her little cunt against
the edge now, seeking out more pain and pleasure combined as he drove in and out of her
with a measured, steady pace designed to increase their mutual pleasure over time, but also
prolong the experience for both of them.

Something Lilith had taught him, along with so much more.

"Don't worry, Pansy," he told her after a few seconds, "You can get off as much as you want.
I'm starting to get like Harry, I can hold off a long, long time if I need to, and I've already
finished three times tonight. I'll finish when I'm good and ready, so you may as well enjoy
your orgasms while you can. I'm gonna be a while."

She groaned as if exhausted already, but he knew that wasn't the case, for she started moving
even faster after he'd spoken, using what little range of motion she had to drive herself back
onto him harder, faster, so that her round rump bounced and swayed every time they made
contact, while his own hanging balls slapped higher, even hitting the sawhorse a few times.

"Huh, Harry was right," he told her after a few minutes more, "You are a good shag."

The only response she gave was another orgasm, but Pansy didn't stop moving. Her own
Runes, much newer than Harry's but still settled in enough to be effective, still had a lot of
juice left in them for the night. Which meant, of course, so did she.

"Now that I've introduced you to just about everyone worth knowing here tonight," Slughorn
said jovially, nearly out of breath. After the marathon of faces and names that Harry was sure
he would never remember aside from Sanguini the vampire, the first (and too-appropriately
named) he'd ever met, who had leered at several of the younger witches and even Luna in
a most unpleasant way, Harry spotted a face he would recognize anywhere.

A face it seemed that Slughorn had been deliberately circling, avoiding even, while Harry
was around. A face that promised some measure of revenge for forcing him to attend this
socialization event that seemed more suited to celebrating Slughorn and all his connections
than the holidays, for all the decor and music.

"Oh, there's someone we haven't met yet, Professor," Harry said, forcing an equally excited
smile onto his face, one that he hoped mimicked the dopey-eyed fangirls that had started
following him around in his first year, receded for a while, and then returned with a
vengeance this year. "Gwenog Jones- you said you knew her, right? My best mate's sister
would die for that autograph!"

"A- Ah, y- yes," the old wizard said, nearly stumbling and falling, and definitely struggling
not to turn and run, "I- how c-could I forget her, one of my most famous protegés? Ah, y-
yes... I'll just introduce you both now. F- Follow me!"

With surprising grace, though he'd been displaying similar all night, Slughorn winded his
way through the crowd, which was growing more lively as drinks were consumed, food eaten
or forgotten about, and Lilith's pervasive powers began to work on the newcomers. Already,
some of the less inhibited older folks were dancing with each other in obviously suggestive
ways, heedless of the underaged students that were attending as well. The Holyhead Harpies'
Captain, at least, seemed to be holding herself back. Harry decided he was grateful, for while
some might consider her attractive (and he was sure Ginny had a crush on the older witch,
her Quidditch hero), she was too square-faced and square-bodied for him. It was a body built
for a Beater, which was her position, not the more graceful Seeker or Chaser ones that he and
Ginny flew. Kind of suits Slughorn though, I'd wager, Harry thought after seeing Slughorn's
apparently involuntary eye-roaming as they approached the woman.

"Oh, there you are, Sluggy," she said with a thick Welsh accent, "I've bein' lookin' fer yah for
a bit! O'os this?"

"Gwenog," he beamed, hands shaking slightly as he gestured toward the Quidditch player and
then back to the students, "It's my pleasure to introduce to you Harry Potter, and Miss Luna
Lovegood. The first needs no introduction, of course."
Jones nodded respectfully at Harry, but didn't linger, nor did she look at his scar, which made
his estimation of her rise just a little.

"And Miss Lovegood is the daughter of Xenophilia Lovegood, the editor of-"

"The Quibbler," Jones finished over him, "And it's Xenophilius, old friend. I'm a reader."

Harry gaped. Luna perked up, and went from shrinking against him as she had been for the
last hour, to her normally upbeat, animated self. "Oh, really? Did you read the most recent
edition?"

Jones grinned, suddenly seeming almost mad, "I did! I partic'larly liked the article about 'ow
the Goblins are sett'n' up tah come after Fudge now 'at the Ministry ain't protecting 'im
anymore. If ol' Ragnok the Goblin King actually does bake that nwhyllo into a pie and eat
'im, it couldn' happen to a better, more deservin' chap!"

"I agree," Luna chirped, "But what about the theory that they might transmute his body into
Galleons to repay his debts?"

Jones laughed out loud, clapping her hands together and sloshing a bit of what looked like a
deep burgundy wine onto the carpet a bit, "Oh, yah! Come on, lass, les' you and me go have a
cha'!"

Bemused, Harry could only watch as the famous Quidditch star led his date away, both of
them talking a mile a minute. After a moment, Slughorn turned back to Harry and shrugged,
"Well, that's that, I suppose, eh? Sorry if I've ruined your evening, Harry, I... I didn't expect
that."

"Neither did I," Harry laughed, "I've never actually met someone who avidly reads that- well,
her father's magazine."

"Oh, you'd probably be surprised," Slughorn said noncommittally, "I've heard The
Quibbler does alright. It's just not well-looked upon by certain, hmm... higher-society types,
you know. The- the sort of people I would expect at, well..."

"One of your parties?"

Almost self-deprecating (though Harry was sure he didn't know the meaning of the phrase),
Slughorn tapped his nose and gave him an almost wistful look. All around them, people still
danced, talked, and networked excitedly, but for a moment, he and the professor were a patch
of calm in the center of the stormy sea. "Er, if you don't mind me saying so, Harry... I'm glad
you came. I'm sorry if our, er... prior engagements, our arrangements, might've... put you off,
or given you the wrong impression of me. That was... a long time ago."

Harry, genuinely surprised by the true sincerity he heard in the quiet statement, could only
shake his head, "Professor, whether it's the arrangement you made with my friend, or the
thing you talked to a student about years ago, it's in the past. I don't think I'm in any place to
judge you."
Slughorn nodded without saying anything, seeming a little relieved, but then glanced about as
if remembering there were people all around. "Er... would you mind if we, well, found a quiet
place to talk? Just for a moment, then I'll try and help you find your date again."

For a moment, Harry was worried the old fat man was propositioning him, but then decided
that wasn't likely, and nodded. "Sure, Professor."

It didn't take long. They passed several doors that lead out of the temporary ballroom, some
of which had even more attendees in various states of dress that led Slughorn, who was
peeking into each room first, pulling away with an increasingly red face. On the sixth try,
they found a quiet sitting room filled with a small, comfortable smoking lounge that was
otherwise empty, and lit only by a few torches on the walls. "Ah, this should do," the man
said, walking over to the largest, softest-looking chair and sinking into it with a long, loud
sigh.

Harry joined him on another chair nearby, and reached for a carafe sitting on the table
between them filled with a light amber liquid, and two crystal goblets.

"That should be a rather fine vintage of brandy, if my instructions were followed right
enough," Slughorn told him, "so maybe only a few fingers for you, eh? Don't want to get into
the sauce too deeply at your age, Harry."

The younger wizard nodded, pouring just a single finger for himself, but a few for the older
man, who seemed suddenly very tired. "You looked like you could use it, Professor."

"As well I should," he laughed softly, then accepted the offered cup and took a sip. "I'm not
as young as I used to be. I thought I could handle one more year of parties, of making new
connections, but it's all just... so much work. Mind you, aside from teaching I've never
actually worked a day in my life. I've done well enough for myself I don't need to, you see.
People look out for me. But that... it's made me soft, too. I didn't always look like this, you
know."

Harry shrugged, not sure what to say, and took a sip himself. It burned faintly, but wasn't as
strong as he'd feared going down. Almost at once, he decided he wasn't a fan, but didn't want
to let it go to waste. He'd at least finish what he poured. The odor was just too... acrid. Or
something. Eventually, he asked, "What's bothering you, sir?"

"Am I that obvious, Harry?"

Again, he showed his age by tone alone, but the Boy-Who-Lived had learned to be a bit more
discerning than most as a survival tactic, and those perception skills had only improved over
the years. "Not really, sir, I doubt anyone but me noticed in there. But it's clear something is."

Slughorn nodded, then took a deep breath and slammed back the rest of his brandy, setting
the empty cup on the table and sighing. "It's just that... well, a part of me feels like my life's
been a waste. I've never made anything, never done anything, except teach and grow my
network of friends. And I know, I know those are important. I've helped make many careers,
and launched several starting businesses into major successes in my time. I've helped mold an
entire generation of young minds, taught them valuable skills. But I've never married. The
one person I ever thought I could settled down for, well... she's a lot younger. You know."

Harry did. He nodded, "Not my type, but I suppose I can see the appeal. Seems a bit full of
herself at first, but the Quibbler thing means she has a sense of humor, at least."

Slughorn nodded, casting him a side-eye, "It's odd that I feel almost comfortable talking
to you, of all people, a student of mine, about this when I'm not able to even bring it up with
my oldest friends. But I feel like you understand."

"Succubus."

"Yes, there is that. I suppose in a way you do. It didn't start out that way, you know. She was
just a young, vivacious student with a great deal of talent. It was only as she got older, in her
sixth and seventh years, that I realized I was... well, that I had more than entirely professional
feelings."

"You were attracted."

Slughorn nodded.

Harry felt strangely like a therapist and a confessor all at once, but for some reason, he didn't
care. He didn't have to listen to the older man, who didn't need to justify himself to Harry
anyway. Yet, what did it cost him? Nothing. And it might help the old man find some kind of
inner peace after... however long this had been eating at him. So he remained silent, watching
and listening.

"Of course, I was in my forties already when she graduated, and why would a famous,
attractive witch her age- who clearly preferred her own gender anyway, even back then when
it was a little less acceptable socially- want an old man like me? So I did nothing, tried to
move on. And I never did find another quite like her. Even your... friend. It- mind you, it was
an amazing experience, but... it still wasn't quite the same. I knew."

Harry nodded sagely, but felt the need to add, "I don't need the details, sir. That's between you
and her. I'm glad she could help, but I'm sorry it wasn't quite what you'd hoped for."

"Oh, it was, and more," Slughorn said idly, waving his hand to ward off the concern, "but it
wasn't... her. Ah, well. Too late now, I suppose. About the other thing..."

"The... thing in the past? Older?"

Slughorn nodded, his face darkening, "That memory is... dangerous. I hope Dumbledore
destroyed it."

"I don't know if he did or didn't," Harry admitted, "but we've seen it, both of us and Lilith."

Slughorn nodded with a low sigh, "I assumed as much. I hope... you don't think less of me."

Harry considered his words for a moment, then decided a bit of a lie combined with truth was
in order, if only to keep from burning one more bridge in his life. "Whether I think less of
you or not doesn't matter, sir. What matters is that we're one step closer to stopping him. We
think we know how many there are, and Professor Dumbledore is actively hunting them
down. Has been for a while, he told me a bit ago. He has less now, at least one has been
destroyed."

Slughorn's eyes widened, "They have?"

Harry nodded, "In my second year, without knowing what it was, I stabbed one with a
Basilisk fang."

Slughorn paled, "You- a Basilisk?"

Harry grinned, though he hated recalling that terrible day, "I'll have to tell you about it
sometime. But it's getting on, and I need to find my date. But no, Professor, I don't think any
less of you. He fooled a lot of people back then. That age- sixteen- is when he made the diary
I destroyed. The Headmaster and I both think he asked you about it after making that first
one. He isn't invincible."

"Thank Merlin for that," Slughorn muttered, then reached over with two flabby arms to pour
another glass of brandy, "You'd best get on, as you said, Potter. Enjoy the rest of the party. I'll
see you after the break, if I don't make it back out."

"Alright, sir. Merry Christmas."

"And Merry Christmas to you, young man."

He didn't see Slughorn again that night, but after collecting a still-grinning Luna from beside
Gwenog Jones (with an autograph she had obtained for Ginny on his behalf and her own too),
the two left the party long before most of the guests had done so, or entered into too much
debauchery.

They kept up an animated discussion of Gwenog Jones' favorite theories about the
government and how the muggles were trying to subvert the Ministry of Magic using their
own tabloids to spread false information about magical creatures and alien mind-control
devices the entire way, until at last arriving at the bronze eagle knocker that would lead them
inside Ravenclaw's Common Room.

But Luna did not knock on it. Instead, she turned to Harry and asked, "Are we friends,
Harry?"

He blinked, taken aback, "Of course we are, Luna. Why would you ask that?"

"Have you lied to me in the last seventy-two hours?"

He had to think very hard about that, but eventually had to shake his head, "I don't think so."

"Then where are my benefits?"

He blinked. "What?"
"My benefits."

"I'm... afraid I don't follow."

Luna huffed exasperatedly, and poked him in the chest with a finger softly. "You said there
were benefits to being your friend. I want mine."

"I'm... don't take this the wrong way, Luna, but what are you talking about?"

He honestly hadn't made the connection, which made him feel even more stupid when she
held up three fingers. "Three times now, Harry Potter, I have asked you if we are going to
have sex. I have used different words each time, in hopes you would get the message. I'm
tired of waiting."

He blinked again. "What? When? When did you ask me- that?"

"The astronomy tower last year was the first. Yesterday, and when I asked if there were
benefits to being your friend."

Harry was... floored wasn't the right word. Now that she mentioned them, he could see why
and what she was implying, but... she'd seemed almost... accusatory, on the tower. As if
daring him to do it.

Daring...

Oh, shit.

"I- I thought you... wouldn't be interested in... well, things like that," he told her lamely.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, "Am I not a human? A witch?
Do I not have hormones? Or feelings?"

"I... don't know what to say," he replied, fighting down a blush, "I just... sort of assumed, I
suppose. Now I feel bad. You... you really wanted to, last year?"

"No, of course not," Luna shook her head, "but if you had wanted me to, I would have."

"But now? What's changed? It hasn't even been a year."

"Now," Luna said, smiling as she poked him again, "I have been feeling the Lady of Dreams'
effects for several months longer, I am older, and more prepared. And you are more able to
make sure I enjoy it. I haven't been with a man, you know, and I understand it can be
unpleasant the first few times."

Harry blinked. Then flushed, deeply, and glanced around to ensure there was no one listening
it. But it was now after eleven, and only the late-night patrols were still wandering the castle
in all likelihood. "Er... well, I... I suppose we can, er, do things."

One of Luna's eyebrows rose impressively high, the other dropping slightly in counterpoint.
"Do you not want to? Or is it that you don't want to with me? I had thought you did not mind
who it was, for the most part."

"No, I- I do," he stammered, completely bamboozled yet again by her odd but still unfailing
logic, "I just... I'm a bit blind-sided. I thought you really meant, you know, as friends. Not...
like, romantically."

"Since when does the Summoner and Contractor of a Succubus equate sex and love?"

Harry had no good answer to that, so he smiled a bit ruefully at himself, "Well, I... I do prefer
it with people that I have, er, more feelings for. But I know it isn't, um, necessary to... enjoy
it."

"That's why you'll enjoy being with me more, I think," Luna declared, "So are we going to do
it, or not?"

"I... I suppose we are," Harry chuckled, wiping a hand over his face. He was more than able,
and even strangely eager, but until that very evening he could not recall ever even looking at
Luna Lovegood as a sexual being. Now, he was forced to confront that she had been flirting
with him in her own odd way for almost a year, and was seemingly quite eager to move
things forward between them, relationship or not.

"You don't have to worry about me spilling your secrets, Harry," she reassured him, putting
her arm through his elbow once more and leading them down into the hallways of the castle
proper, "I'm sure you know I can keep them if I wish. So be good to me tonight, and I'll try
and be good to you. I'm not asking for a relationship based on anything more than friendship
and fornication."

Harry coughed. "Er... a- alright..."

"For now."

He didn't know what to say to that, so Harry wisely kept silent.

About five minutes later, they were back on the ground floor, and Luna took them into an
even more unexpected direction: the Great Hall. Harry let her lead him on a bit further,
passing the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables on the right, then between the badger's table and
Ravenclaw's, all the way to the far end near the raised dais that held the staff and visitor's
table. "I'd like to do it right here, if we could, Harry," the girl said quietly, turning to look up
at him.

The entire area was bathed in moonlight since the moon was nearly full, and only a few high,
wispy clouds obscured the rich starlight that streamed through the Great Hall's enchanted
ceiling. Luna's skin, already fairly pale despite being an outdoors-loving young lady, shone
like her namesake itself, and the silver of her dress seemed to sparkle even more radiantly
than it had the first time he'd seen her that evening.

All of this, as her eyes gave off a faint hint of mystery and magic while they lay half-shaded
by her face, made Harry realized he'd been very remiss earlier. "Ah... I'm sorry, Luna, I forgot
to mention something when we met up earlier. You look radiant tonight. Absolutely
stunning."

He'd never seen Luna blush before. Pink just a little, certainly, but not the deep color that
flushed down the generous cleavage she displayed, covering the entire top of both breasts as
far as her dress would let him see, her neck, and both shoulders. She smiled demurely, but
didn't break eye contact. "Thank you, Harry. I know you are only saying that because you
want to get into my dress, but-"

"No, really," Harry assured her, taking her upper arms in a soft grip and stepping back, letting
his eyes roam freely over what he'd been too blind to see before. "You really do, and it's not
just... I was an idiot. Thanks for opening my eyes."

"A line cleverly chosen to open my legs," Luna said with a giggle, "but what you don't
realize, Harry, is that they were open for you last year."

He frowned down at her, "I'm trying to be serious, Luna."

"That seems rather silly. Sirius is your godfather, isn't he? You should be Harry. I'm not
interested in having sex with Stubby Boardman. I heard he gets around rather a lot, and he
doesn't have good taste in women."

Harry spluttered, "I- I get around a lot too!"

"But you have excellent taste. At least, that's what Ginny tells me."

Harry only realized she was teasing him when she reached a hand, palm out, to cup his
crotch, lightly kneading his balls through his trousers and boxers. "Harry," she told him, "I
don't care about the others at all. Tonight, I just want you to be with me."

Harry sighed, and once again decided that honesty and openness would serve him well.
Besides, he could not, would not, lie to Luna Lovegood. She, of all people, would never hear
a falsehood from his lips if he could help it. Unless it involved a prank, anyway. So he turned
around her, spinning her in his grip slowly, and sat on the edge of the table facing the staff
table. "Luna, are you sure about this? Once... once it's done, there's no going back."

Luna's eyebrows raised along with her luscious, suddenly very kissable mouth curving into a
smile. "Of course I am, Harry. Why do you think I've waited? I might be a bit strange, but I'm
far from stupid. I am a Ravenclaw."

"No, I know that," he replied, unable to fight down a smile of his own, "It's just... people that
I am with, they tend to... want more. I'm not talking about not being a virgin any more, and
not being able to get that back. I feel honored, truly, that you want your first time to be with
me."

"Who said it was my first time?"

That made Harry blink. "Er... what?"

"You'll be the first man to be inside me," she assured him with a soft, secret smile he'd never
seen on her face before, "but I am not a virgin."

"Er... I..."

"Oh, Harry, lighten up," she giggled again, stepping a bit closer and booping his nose with a
well-manicured finger. "I don't know why you're so hesitant. I'm not."

He sighed, then tried again. If he were honest with himself, and he tried to be, he really just
wanted to ravish her as he'd done with Pansy earlier, forget all his worries. But there was
something about Luna that made her special to him in a way that no one else was. Perhaps
her innocent purity, the child-like wonder with which she viewed the world. Maybe it was the
way she made him feel normal. "I don't want our relationship to change," he said quietly,
eyes searching hers. "I like our friendship, Luna. I like how you talk to me, how you make
me feel by just being you. I don't want to risk... losing that."

There was a beat, then two, and suddenly Luna was in his embrace, holding him tightly with
her head buried in his neck. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, "Why would that change? Is
Hermione any less brilliant, stuck in her ways, or less your friend? Is Ginny less devoted to
you and Quidditch? I don't think they are. This is just another way to become close."

"I... I suppose..."

She was right, he realized. Entirely. Hermione was still very much herself, and their
relationship outside of sex had not changed much at all. If anything, it had brought their other
activities a new sense of satisfaction and wholeness, knowing that they would be doing more
later. Ginny had not really been his girlfriend before they had made love out in the grounds
that night by the lake, but he had known her fairly well as Ron's sister if nothing else. She
still loved the same things, talked and acted the same way. True, there was less time for other
things, since much of their free time was spent indulging in their passions. But they still did
all those things.

So why was he worried about it being different with her?

"Like I said, I've been a moron," Harry told the girl in his arms, "You're right. No more
hesitating. How would you like to do it, Luna?"

"However you'd like me," she told him airily, pulling out of his arms to do a little spin in
front of him with her hands high overhead, making her dress swish as it rose into the air. "But
first I think I need to be out of these dress robes. I wouldn't want them damaged."

"Right, of course," Harry murmured, rising to his feet fully to help unzip the back as she
turned away and lifted her voluminous hair to the side. It almost seemed like a Veela's in the
moonlight, shimmering and silver like her dress, but a lighter shade. As the zip went lower
and lower, Luna's back was revealed in its slender glory, unblemished but for a few very faint
freckles. Harry found himself with the irresistible urge to kiss each one, which he began
doing as the zipper hit her bum and stopped. Luna giggled as his lips first met her skin, and
held her dress up with her arms while she let him do it.
Once the job was done, she looked over her shoulder again, then shrugged and let the dress
robes fall. They gathered briefly at her waist, but their own weight pulled them inexorably
past her luscious thighs to pool around her ankles. Luna stepped out of it, revealing a bum
firmer than even Ginny's, almost like Hermione's, and thick, toned thighs that seemed
incongruous yet matched perfectly with her more slender waist, hips, and upper body. He
couldn't see any detail in the shadows created by her own body, but after she was further
away, Luna turned to face him, her arms covering her breasts, mostly, and one hand nestling,
framing her groin but not covering it.

"Stunning," Harry repeated, taking in each curve and valley of her arms, how her lower arm
pushed into and restrained her chest even more than the dress had, yet covered less as it
bulged around the appendage. The oddly toned, flat stomach. She must exercise, not many
witches in Hogwarts have a four-pack. It's not a bodybuilder's, but damn, Luna... How her
waist was narrower than he had expected, usually hidden by robes, but even her dress had not
done it justice. But her thighs were thick and muscled too, and Harry found himself licking
his lips as he imagined diving between them, taking the place of her hand as he peppered the
pale skin with more kisses under the moonlight. She would feel divine, clamping them
around his head while she climaxed beneath his tongue.

Harry was hot, burning inside, and he realized in that moment that he needed to be wearing
less, or he would overheat. With haste, he started undoing the red and green buttons of his
own dress robes, stripping out of it as fast as he could while keeping his eyes on the vision of
loveliness that stood before him, watching his clumsy motions.

When the upper part was off, Luna bent to gather her dress, stepping past him for a moment
to lay it over the table gently, smoothing it out of a few wrinkles, and then took his shirt to do
the same beyond it. Her shoes and stockings were now all she wore, he realized, finally able
to tear his eyes away as the spell was broken. The witch seemed to have no intention of
removing them, but Harry did not mind at all. There was something about seeing her nude
aside from the stockings and heels that reminded him of several of the porn stars he'd seen on
Dudley's computer or in the old magazines he had used before the last summer.

It was strangely erotic, and he couldn't wait once again to feel her legs around his head. But it
seemed the girl had other plans, for once his shirt was safely placed on the table, his half-
undone trousers were taken over by her. Luna pushed Harry back onto the table, and assisted
him out of his shoes, socks, and pants slowly, but left his crimson and gold (of course) boxers
on for the moment. That didn't stop her from fishing his erection back down beneath the
waistband, then pulling it out through the hole to stand between them almost like a reverse-
arched bridge. "Spectacular," she whispered, then wrapped her long, cool fingers around it
and started to stroke.

"Oh, yeah," Harry groaned, thrusting his hips almost involuntarily into Luna's grip. He would
never have imagined the quirky girl to be so good with her hands, but as she started moving
faster, twisting with each tug, Harry could not help but realize she was bringing him more
pleasure than his hands ever had. That was really saying something, as he'd been
masturbating more than five times a day before summoning Lilith. He had a lot of practice.

"Y- You're really good at that, Luna," he told her sincerely.

She smiled up at him, "I know. I've been doing it for a while. Thank you for noticing, though.
I have been practicing for you."

"A- Ah... I see. Who- who've you been practicing on?"

"That's my secret," Luna said with a coy little giggle, "but I'll tell you later. You can ejaculate
on my hands if you wish, but I will want more."

As good as it felt, Harry wanted more, too. So he let her jerk him off a bit longer, reveling in
the act of giving pleasure she seemed to want as much as he did, then stood up, pushing her
back, and threw his arms around her rear end, lifting her into the air. She squealed a little, her
hands coming around his neck along with her powerful thighs wrapping reflexively around
his waist as he lifted her into the air. She was placed where he had just been, suddenly
grinning like a madwoman. "Are you going to put it in me now, Harry?"

"No," he told her, making the girl ask a simple question.

"Why not?"

"Because I want to taste you," he replied honestly, "I've been thinking about your legs around
my head for several minutes, you know."

"Oh. They've never... done that," she whispered. "Normally they just want to penetrate me
and be done."

Harry blinked, looking up at her. It wasn't necessarily that Luna had been with others, plural.
He didn't care about that, as long as she was happy. She'd even said he was the first man to be
inside her, when that actually happened. But what kind of sex was she talking about that was
just penetration? Boring! "You're missing out, then," he told her.

"Mm... maybe," she replied, the same shy, almost mysterious smile flittering across her
youthful features once more, "but I haven't had a reason to complain yet. It feels quite good,
you know, when they do that. But I'm eager to see what you mean, Harry."

"All in good time," he said softly. It was a bit worrisome to be doing this, both of them naked
or nearly so, in the Great Hall, but the hour was late and he didn't worry much about patrols
or teachers finding them. If they did, well... these days, no one seemed to even care.

Maybe they'd join in.

Rather than immediately start eating her out, Harry lifted one of Luna's legs to his shoulder-
height, kissing the inside of her ankle, then drawing a long, waving line with his mouth up
the inside of her right calf, past the knee to about half-way up her thick thigh, and then left it
hanging over his shoulder while he bent her right leg further to repeat the passage. The whole
while, Luna watched him eagerly, her lips parted slightly as she watched him tenderly
express his love for what might just be her favorite feature about herself.

Once he had reached the mid-point on the left side, he started moving back and forth between
the sides, kissing higher and higher, and even started nibbling on her tender skin in a few
sensitive spots. When he reached her core, though, Harry stopped kissing entirely, with her
ankles crossed over his back. "This is a view I could get used to," he murmured, "but I'm not
ready for that yet. Do your previous lovers give any attention to the rest of you?"

Luna shrugged, which made her chest, now bare before him, jiggle. It was hard to tell exactly
what color her nipples were in the moonlight, but he suspected a very light pink. They were
almost invisible against the other flesh, but the large globes caught his attention completely.
"Tell me," he urged, "what your previous lovers do to make you feel good besides using your
beautiful sex."

He meant that, too. Luna had a thin landing strip shaved in, but was otherwise bare as a child
down there, and her soft, pink petals were already open and dripping, thickly mounded and
eager for his entrance.

But he moved up higher, letting her legs slide down to circle his waist again instead, and let
his large cock press against her slit while he leaned down over her and took a breast in each
hand, rolling it gently back and forth, then pressing them together and sliding her flesh
against itself. He was honestly quite impressed with her proportions. Luna was a slight girl,
taller than Ginny but only a little thicker, but her chest rivalled Hermione's in size, and her
tits were round and firm despite that. He loved them completely, and bent down to worship
one nipple with his mouth too, as she gasped.

"They... they sometimes do that, or something like it," she whispered, "and they go into my
bum, or my vagina, or my mouth. They go in and out a lot, and it feels good, no matter how
deep they go. Sometimes they suck on my little clit. That feels really good, but it's almost too
much."

Her words caused another twinge of curiosity in Harry's mind at what exactly she was
referring to, but it was quickly pushed out of his focus by the feel of her nipple swelling and
growing what felt like diamond-hard in his mouth. After working it like that a few seconds
longer, he switched the sides. Once both were hard and erect, he pulled back to admire their
altered appearance, before leaving another trail of kisses down her stomach. This time, as he
knelt, Harry didn't pull back.

Instead, he kissed the top of her slit directly, then let his tongue dart out into the hollow above
her hood and below where the slit started, working that area gently for several seconds that
left Luna's breathing ragged and quick. "Harry," she gasped, "I... I..."

"Just enjoy it," he told her, "but tell me if it's too much."

"Okay." Luna agreed, her voice raspy with need. She relaxed onto the table below her, and
lifted her hands to take the place of his, kneading and tweaking at her breasts while his
tongue slipped lower and to the sides. Between labia and mons down one side and then up the
other, and then into the inner folds, he licked up and down, side to side, with tiny little
motions that almost felt like he was vibrating his muscle against her while he moved in a
spiral ever inward. It took him only a moment to identify her flavor, which Harry noted with
a smile stretching across his face, for it was divine. Chocolate and treacle. Goddesses above!
Before pushing it inside, Harry slipped back a few inches, long tongue still flicking against
the labia itself, rolling her swollen flesh to either side and back, to admire the flower that was
spread before him. Her clit was tiny indeed, possibly the smallest he'd seen. By now, he knew
that made it more sensitive. The same number of nerve endings packed into a smaller place
had that effect. So he didn't do more than blow on it directly, and barely touched even the
hood with the softest parts of his tongue, but each time he did Luna shuddered and shook
beneath him.

After several minutes of eating her out, and at least two orgasms, Harry finally pushed his
magically-lengthened tongue inside her, and he groaned at the combination of some of his
favorite flavors covering his entire tongue as he worked it in and out, twisting and rolling
inside Luna's sex far enough to push directly up into the most sensitive parts behind her clit.

Almost at once, Luna moaned and gasped, pushed into her third orgasm as he did so, and for
the first time, she bucked against his face, her hands suddenly fisting tightly, amost painfully,
into his shaggy hair. Harry kept going, but looked up through the valley of her breasts to see
Luna's jaw working rapidly, silently, as her back arched in one direction, her hips in the other
as she tried to force him deeper, get more of his tongue inside her.

Harry obliged, using his Succubus-given ability to lengthen and grow his tongue even further,
delving deep, deep inside and filling, stretching her entire channel so that he could feel each
and every ridge and fold of it, and the very tip nestled into the hole that curved up into her
womb.

The moment he made contact there, his tongue larger than it had ever been except when
doing the same with Lavender and Lilith, she gasped his name just once, her whole body
seizing in her strongest climax yet, far harder than the first three. "H-Haarrryyyennnnngh!"

She was motionless, aside from a faint tremble, for more than thirty seconds. Harry did not
stop, though. He did slow his motions a bit, lest he overwhelm the girl, but he still pumped
and writhed his tongue inside her body, while his arms shook with the effort of keeping her
thighs from trying to crush his head.

Even with the magical strength he now had, it took a bit of work. Yet knowing he had driven
her so wild gave Harry a heady rush of satisfaction and pride as he slowly shrank his tongue
back down to normal and withdrew it, then began kissing up her body again to let his lips
meet hers, which were still panting. It took her a few seconds to start kissing him back, but
the moment his tongue joined the fray, so did hers, and soon they were fighting for
dominance.

Or, perhaps, she just wanted more.

When he pulled away, Luna's eyes were heavy-lidded but filled with want and need. "That
was... amazing," she murmured, "I've never tested my cum before, only theirs."

"You taste perfect," Harry told her seriously, "I mean that. I'll eat your pussy every day if you
want, Luna. Every single day."
"I think I'd like that too much," she giggled, still out of breath, "but I'm not finished. I hope
you are ready for the rest."

He nodded. His cock was throbbing, actually, and eating the girl out for more than fifteen
minutes had left his balls heavy and aching to vent some pressure. "I am. Are you ready?"

"Put it in me," she said quietly, her legs coming back up to circle his waist again, "Penetrate
my deepest parts, Harry. Make me feel good with a man's dick. When you cum, do it all the
way inside me, like they do."

There was that strange, curious twinge again, but Harry didn't care in that moment. What
mattered to him was making her wish come true, and his own growing, desperate need for
release. It took him just two strokes, thanks to his previous experiences, to find the entrance
with his hips alone. Harry didn't drive in roughly or slowly, but at a measured, medium pace
that stretched and moved her body against him even more than his tongue had. Luna took his
size easily despite her slightly small frame, and her own pelvis and hips began rolling and
circling as he passed the half-way mark. Once again, he pushed into her womb, but the
younger girl did not seem to experience any pain from it as his head burst into a larger,
almost friction-free area after passing a narrower, firmer channel. "That doesn't hurt you?"

She shook her head, then leaned up with a quirky grin to kiss his nose. "They go much further
all the time. It hurt the first few dozen, but..."

Harry blinked. "How many times have these mysterious lovers, uh, penetrated you, Luna?"

"Oh," she replied airily, "hundreds. I started using them for pleasure in my third year. At least
every few days, and I have things to use at home now, too."

Harry knew she lived alone with her father, and for a moment he thought she had been
fucking him, too. But no, she'd said he was the only man to be in her.

A woman, then, with toys? Or... something else?

He pushed the thought, for the moment at least, from his mind as she reached to pull him
down for another kiss, then whispered against his lips, "Penetrate me hard, Harry. I'm close
again, and I want to feel a man inside me so badly."

He obliged, quickly picking up the pace so that he was pumping every second or two,
slapping his scrotum against her little bum-hole. Not roughly, but fast and hard all the same,
while her hips seemed to move on her own, grinding her clitoris against him and making the
angle and pressure on his schlong change with every motion. He kissed her again as sweat
began to bead on both their brows despite the cool air in the late-night hall in winter, and
soon lost himself to the endless, primal motions once more.

Luna climaxed first, and again, her walls shuddering and clasping even harder at him while
Harry drove into her womb deeper and deeper, her whole body clutching at him with
increasingly desperate need. Her own arousal and lust tipped him off the cliff as well, and as
Harry released, she came again, shuddering and moaning his name once more as she felt his
hot seed splash against her womb's walls, just as so many things had before. But Harry was
even warmer, and she felt the indescribable rush of it pass over her consciousness like a wave
of purest bliss.

Too soon, Harry had to pull out. Even though he'd only climaxed with her once, Harry was
already too sensitive for more just then, thanks to his earlier time with Pansy. While
he could perform, he didn't really want to, and the closure he felt sharing Luna's first time
'with a man', whatever she'd meant by that, was enough to satisfy him for now. "Thank you,"
he murmured, kissing the girl's closed eyes, then her own nose in return, and her lips as he
pulled slowly free.

"Thank you, Harry," Luna said with a very pleased, soft smile that still held some of the same
mysterious quirk. "I hope this isn't the last time we benefit from our friendship. I enjoyed
myself quite a lot."

"I did, too," he told her, and fondled her breasts a moment longer as he popped free to leave a
long strong of his jizz falling slowly to the stone floor, "I... I can't believe I didn't notice you
like this until today."

"Sometimes we fail to see what is right before our eyes," Luna said with a soothing voice,
then hiked up onto her elbows. "I will be happy to take a set of Runes or two, whenever you
want me to, Harry. I quite enjoyed having a human inside me."

"A... a human?"

Luna grinned, "I've pleasured several beings, Harry, but I think I like humans the most. At
least, yours."

"I, er..."

Luna reached a hand between her legs, scooped up some of his leavings, and brought it to her
mouth, tasting it and rolling it over her tongue for several seconds before swallowing with a
considering look. "Yes, humans taste better, too. I like what they put in me, but you taste...
sweeter."

"Er..."

"I'll show you, if you want, Harry. Not tonight, though. I'm quite well-fucked."

The language coming out of the seemingly innocent girl's mouth made him laugh as she
hopped up, heedless of his cum running down her legs and into her stockings, and stepped
over to slip into her dress again while he hurried to dress himself.

Once he was fully clothed, she turned back to him again and held her hair up, "Zip?"

He did so, pressing one more kiss to her bare shoulders. "I really can't believe I didn't notice
you before tonight. This was truly special to me. You are special to me."

"Thank you, Harry. As the first man and the first friend to penetrate me, you are special, too.
And because we are friends."
"Er, thanks."

"Next month, I'll show you the one that took my virginity," Luna told him without turning
around, looking over her shoulder instead, "If you want to know."

"I think I do," he murmured, putting an arm around her stomach and pulling her against him,
"I want to know what an amazing young woman like yourself uses for pleasure."

"Besides you?"

He nodded and chuckled, "Yes, besides me."

"Then I'll show you. It will be on a weekend- ah, but the Hols. I suppose it will have to wait
until term resumes."

"Damn."

"Indeed, I probably am," Luna said with a grin as she turned to face him again, pulling free of
his arms as she walked backward toward the door, "but I don't mind, if I can keep feeling like
I do right now. Good night, Harry Potter. This was an excellent date. Thank you for inviting
me."

"Er, thank you for coming. I'm glad you had fun," he answered as he slipped his last shoe on
and hurried to catch up. "I hope it isn't the last, too."

"Oh, we'll fuck again," Luna assured him, "I was serious about the Runes. The Lady of
Dreams has told me several times that she was waiting only for this night before she invites
me to get some."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, Harry. Just because Ronald and the Lady will fill my pussy several times
doesn't mean I don't still like yours the best. And I do so want to see what all the fuss is about
Ginny's mouth. The Lady can't stop talking about it when we meet at night."

Harry grinned, "She does give rather good cunnilingus."

"After what you've done, it is a high standard to beat, but I'm sure she will do her best. Ginny
doesn't like to lose."

"No," he laughed, "No she doesn't."

They had more banal, normal conversation (for Luna) as they returned to the Ravenclaw
knocker again. After answering the riddle it presented with some ease (though it stumped
Harry for a bit), she leaned up to kiss him once more, giving him a final, slightly faded taste
of treacle and chocolate, and then stepped into the dimly-lit, spacious and wide-open
Ravenclaw Common Room and disappeared.

Shaking his head bemusedly at how the night had turned out, he made his careful way, cloak
about him just in case, down to his private quarters once more.
What he found there gave him a bit of a shock.
 Peace and War
Chapter Summary

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
Violence, including against children. Terrorism. It's a brutal chapter, and lots of people
die.

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on SubStar.
Follow my DISCORD link, then go to the "Links in General" channel at the bottom (I don't
believe you even need to have Discord, or be a member, to see that channel- and if you do,
someone PM me and I'll fix it). SubStar's posted up past Chapter 100. So... you know, it's a
long way ahead (they have started the summer after 6th).

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 90 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 62: Peace and War

He was not used to seeing his pet Succubus glaring at him in actual anger.

"What?" he asked, "What did I do?"

"It's what you didn't do, Master," she glowered, her full, chitin-covered form several inches
taller than him, wings flapping slowly behind her as she ducked under the door of his
bedroom, clearly expecting him to follow.

She was standing just inside as he did, her arm held out to gesture at Pansy, who was still tied
to the sawhorse, with several spurts of drying cum over her back.

"What? That I didn't release her?"

"No, Master," Lilith growled, "you didn't hold her, show her you still cared. I taught you this.
A Dom needs to show his sub that he still cares after being rough and hard on her. After-care,
remember? You just left this poor thing sitting here for four hours."

Harry blinked as his mouth fell open. "It's- it's been that long?"
"Yes!"

"Shit," he muttered, immediately stripping free of his dress robes again, and throwing them
over the pillory while he struggled out of the rest.

"She doesn't need another fucking right now, Master," Lilith said as he stepped out of the last
sock.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Harry murmured, almost ignoring the creature as he hurried past
her, and immediately set about freeing Pansy Parkinson. She was limp, dangling in his arms
as he freed first her legs, letting her stand on the little steps, and then her arms before lifting
her into a bridal carry. Still breathing of course, but as he took her over to his bed, she
seemed barely conscious. "H- Harry?"

"Yes, it's me, love," he murmured softly, leaning down to kiss the top of her head before
laying her on the bed face-up. "Let me get you some Essence of Murtlap. I'm sorry, I've been
a bad master. You didn't deserve all this."

She didn't protest, didn't even really seem to register what he'd said. But as Harry turned to
hurry for the cream Hermione made sure was kept on the shelf to his right, Lilith was already
holding it out to him expectantly. Without lust or arousal, at least not much, Harry worked the
slightly acrid, yellow-white cream into Pansy's wounds, lifting and turning her body carefully
to massage it into each welt and bruise, and then more carefully into the deep, angry purple-
red line that the sawhorse itself had left down her front, from Pansy's collar to cunt.

Working that was the only time she'd made any noise at all. The entire time, a process of
more than half an hour, Harry mentally berated himself. Lilith had, indeed, impressed upon
him the importance of after-care for a sub's mental well-being, and here he was, his first real
foray into that (at least alone), and he'd fucked it up.

Abused his sub without meaning to.

Carelessly.

It was the worst thing, she'd taught him, a Dom could do.

Made his sub feel worthless, like he didn't need her or that he didn't care about her.

Once the cream was applied to each and every wound, he closed the now half-empty tub and
set it aside, where the Succubus returned it silently to the shelf, then leaned against the side
of the headboard, her tail swishing in the air behind her. Harry didn't look to her for
instructions, though. He knew what to do, now that he bothered thinking about it, thinking
about more than that stupid party, or his dick.

"I've been terrible to you, Pansy, and I'm sorry," he murmured again, laying himself down on
the bed to hold her close.

She wrapped her tender, abused body around him, and then sobbed.
He let her cry for a long time, drenching them both in her tears, before she quieted. "I thought
you hated me," she whispered, "Just... using me, and... and leaving me there..."

"You wanted Ron, didn't you?"

She nodded into his salty chest, "He used me, and that was g-good... but then after..."

"Yeah... I'm so sorry, Pansy. I never meant for that to happen. I guess I thought he'd let you
go, but I should've specified, asked him. I never considered it. You don't have to forgive me,
and I won't ask. I'm still sorry."

"No," Pansy whimpered, "I do forgive you, I... don't forget me again. That's the worst."

"I couldn't," he murmured, kissing the top of her head again, "Even in my darkest times, I
couldn't forget you. Not again."

And he meant it. Seeing her there, still so vulnerable, so shattered, was worse than when he'd
found her after Daphne had asked for his help in dealing with her.

This time, it was because of him.

He had done it, he was at fault.

He actually was the guilty party this time.

But all he could do was hold her close, let her feel as much of his tenderness and care as he
could manage.

When morning came, he was still wide awake, if a little tired, and leaning back against the
headboard. Lilith had sucked him off in the night, using her full form for once, then vanished
to take care of her normal cleaning. Pansy was nestled against him, leaning back onto his
chest, snoring rather cutely. The bruises and welts had mostly faded, but the Essence of
Murtlap hadn't been able to take care of the long line down her body in one night. It was pink
and raw still, and Harry suspected it would be quite tender today.

At least there's no classes.

Indeed, they would be on the train in a few hours.

He let his eyes drift closed again. He had not slept all night, but instead had spent the time
trying to reorder his brain, and figure several things out.

Which of the girls he was regularly shagging would hopefully stay with him when all was
said and done. How to convince those who might be reluctant to do so, perhaps. How to
make things up to Pansy for the damage he'd done the night before in neglecting her.

How to bring up Luna's desire to enter their group with the others.

Plans for the holiday, which Harry expected would be quite busy. He knew they would be
spending most of it with Sirius, and then a day at the Burrow right after Christmas, but
beyond that there would be a lot to do besides shagging.

He didn't notice his cock swelling at the thought, but Pansy did, for the pressure made her
wake up, and the throbbing rod beneath her caused all sorts of desires to wake up alongside
her. Without a word, knowing exactly where she was and feeling safe with him once more,
Pansy lifted her body and then reached down to angle him properly before sinking down onto
her Master's dick. "Harry," she sighed as she slid him into her, taking the spot she'd most
wanted him to use last night. "You said you loved me."

He groaned at the feel of her, tight and smooth, enveloping him so utterly, even as he was
surprised at her brazenness. "I guess I did," he said, holding her tight as she started to rise and
fall on him, "I hope... I hope you don't mind."

"Mm-um," Pansy moaned, leaning back into him more as her hips began to gyrate slowly too,
"I... I'm not sure I can say it back, but I..."

"That's okay," he whispered into her dark hair, "I was surprised I said it, but I meant it. You
don't have to."

Pansy's pace picked up over the next minute as she enjoyed riding him. It was the first time
she'd ever really taken charge in their intimate moments, and Harry found the contrast
delightful, even if he truly did enjoy her usual more submissive behavior too. "You're going
to make me cum soon," he told her after a bit longer, "You're so good, Pansy."

"You can do it inside," she whispered, surprising him, "I want you to make me pregnant,
Harry."

"I-"

He couldn't respond. He knew full well that he could, but he'd only been climaxing into the
girls so often because he could control his ability to have children, and was immune to
carrying or spreading sexual diseases thanks to Lilith's Runes. But to hear Pansy say that,
when he was already getting close...

He spurted quickly, a fast and powerful but ultimately short orgasm, as images of Pansy
pregnant and still riding him, just like this, flittered through his mind. Of filling her again and
again, until she had a second child with him, and then years later, when she was older, more
mature, just as beautiful, and showing their older child, a daughter, how to suck a cock...

It was too much, too dirty and yet too wholesome and pure at the same time. He couldn't hold
back.

When he had emptied himself, Pansy kept lifting and falling a bit more, then slowed until she
fell still, with him still buried inside her. "Did you... finish?"

Pansy shook her head, "No, but it's fine. I enjoyed it."

"My women don't shag me and not finish," Harry told her, "so keep moving. You know I'm
still hard."
"Yes, sir," Pansy murmured, and immediately resumed. But now her movements were faster,
more frantic, and she added a hand to her cunt, twisting it in wild circles to get herself off as
quickly as possible. To help with that, Harry reached up for her tits, pulling and twisting each
of her already hard nipples in turn, alternating the pressure, then hefting one to her own
mouth. It just reached.

"Suck on your tit, my little harlot," he whispered to her, "Get yourself off."

She groaned at the strange idea, and hesitated for a moment more, then leaned down just a
little to take her nipple into her mouth. She moaned again at the sensation, and her bouncing
slowed a little in her distraction, but it didn't seem to matter.

Harry willed himself to climax with her, heightening her own pleasure as she peaked, gasping
and seizing again while he unloaded a second, slightly smaller, load into her depths.

Again she stayed there, but slowly Harry's member fell out of her, dripping with both their
climaxes. After their breathing had regulated once more, he still held her close while asking,
"Did you mean that?"

"Mean what?" Pansy murmured, thoroughly relaxed.

"About... about us. A- a child."

Pansy seemed to consider it a moment, then nodded. "One day. It probably wouldn't be a
good idea now. It was... a spur of the moment thing. Would... would it be so bad?"

"Not bad at all," Harry told her, "I was just surprised. One day, Pansy Parkinson, you'll be the
mother of some of my children. Would you like that?"

She nodded, settling into him even more, "I'd love it, Harry. I can't believe... how much
things have changed, but I wouldn't sell it for the world."

She was quiet for a long time, then added in a whisper, "I can't sign a contract. I have no
family."

"You have us," he reminded her, kissing her head, "You will always have us. I don't need you
to sign a contract like Tracey and Daphne. You can just be here, with us. As much or as little
as you want. But you'll always have a place with me."

Pansy turned her upper body to look up at him for the first time since they'd shifted into that
position in the early morning hours, then kissed his stubbly jaw. "I'm glad. I... I've never
heard anything that sounded better, Harry. But I need to go get ready to leave."

"Alright, my love," he murmured, "my little harlot."

"I am your little harlot," Pansy said with a giggle and a blush, "Because... well, you make me
happier than I could've ever imagined. Before... I was not happy, I only thought I was. Thank
you, Harry."
It still went unsaid as she left the room, naked as the day she was born, to gather her clothes
and take a long, very hot shower, but Harry knew exactly how she felt.

Before Lilith, he had thought he knew what happiness felt like, even if he had been sexually
frustrated. Being around his friends, flying, those had brought him happiness. His perspective
had changed over the last months, though.

As his 'harem' continued to grow, his sense of fulfillment and joy in life (even aside from sex,
which was great) was increasing daily, by leaps and bounds. He chuckled to himself as he
rose from the bed too and began gathering his own casual clothes and uniform, intending to
change on the train as usual, Harry had a realization that made him laugh. "If Dumbledore's
right, and the Power He Knows Not is truly Love, then old Voldemort is well and truly
fucked, and not in a good way."

That morning, another girl, Vicky Frobisher, had her virginity roughly claimed by one
Theodore Nott, who used the process and loss, along with the blood and magic that released,
to perform a ritual designed by his master decades before, and performed only once in the
history of the world before himself.

Vicky Frobisher, sadly, did not survive long after the ritual's completion, just as Tom Riddle
Sr.'s young maid did not survive when the young man who would become Lord Voldemort
performed the ritual himself. It was only after that, after gaining more power and leaving
even more of his humanity behind, that the young Tom Marvolo Riddle entered his family's
old home and killed them all, using their deaths to perform a ritual that made him stronger
still.

But as Theodore Nott stood over the broken, abused body of his well-trained victim, who had
cried out in ecstasy despite her life-blood spilling alongside her virgin's blood when he
climaxed in her, he felt no remorse. Instead, what he felt was power, and gratitude for the
man who'd given it to him. And a need for more. When his newest gift arrived, he would be
ready to receive it. They would have weeks, while the school was nearly empty, to get
acquainted. And no one could find him here. No one besides Potter, for no one else spoke
Parseltongue.

And Potter, he had it on good authority, would not be staying at the castle this year. No, he
would be going home to visit his pathetic family, and shag his whore of a mudblood, and
Merlin knew who many others.

Nott didn't care. He only needed a toy to play with while the hours and days passed as his
body acclimated to its new abilities. When the Chamber of Secrets opened again, allowing
him into the inner sanctum, there would be a new beast within it, set to ravage the school.
And that beast would be him.

He grinned, picking up the lifeless body in one huge, monstrous hand, barely human and five
times larger than it had been just an hour ago, and slid the husk onto his aching, groaning
cock. It split nearly in two, but he didn't care, for it was still warm and wet. He used it to
masturbate himself relentlessly, her blood and his juices giving just enough lube to finish the
job again a few minutes later, before tossing the ruined flesh aside.
The once well-appointed bedroom they had stumbled across a few days earlier was useless,
wrecked beyond repair by the rage he'd been in as soon as his new body rose from the cocoon
of magic it had been made from, but Theodore Nott didn't care. He didn't need comfort. He
only wanted to fuck, and to kill Albus Dumbledore. Once those were done, his Master would
grant him even more power, show him what it was to be human again, yet so, so much more.

Just before the train was set to leave, a chime alerted him to the presence of a figure standing
just outside the sewer entrance they had found using his master's instructions days ago.

A wide, sharp-toothed grin split the monstrous face. "She's here," he growled, "my new pet.
Hopefully she'll last longer."

Then he began to run, in long, loping strides with occasional use of his much longer arms to
balance or even pull himself along. He nearly filled the tunnel as he moved down it, the now
tiny wand still clutched in his massive hand, his erection straining and dripping with his seed
and the blood of his last victim. He really did hope this one lasted longer, it was more fun
when they could still fight back, or urge him to go harder, faster.

He froze just outside the shattered grate that had once protected this entrance, still half-
hidden in shadows as the beautiful creature his master had sent for his use stood, half-clothed
at best, just inside the little clearing. "H- Hello. Nott... Theodore Nott?"

He nodded, "That's me," the huge face growled huskily, "You were sent?"

The woman, clearly more than standard human, like him, for all she resembled one, nodded.
"Yes, my new master. I am to please you and serve you."

"Good. You can start with your mouth. Don't mind the blood."

She didn't hesitate, the voluptuous creature sank down onto his shaft with ease and vigor right
there in the Forbidden Forest, taking seven inches and more into her throat. It wasn't yet half
of his new size, but he would be patient. It still felt amazing, after all, and he wanted this one
to live. So he would let her work until she could take all of him. For now. "That's good," he
growled, wand still held at the ready in case she tried to fight or resist him.

Only after she had taken his load, coughing twice but without complaint, did Nott hold out
the object twisted and coiled in his other massive hand. "Put this rope 'round your neck, and
tie it closed."

She obeyed at once, her former Master's Imperius Curse or whatever he was using to control
her still very much in effect.

Once the deed was done, he would start her training in earnest. She licked her lips of
Frobisher's final blood with relish as she tied it shut, then bared two long, thin fangs. "I'm
ready, my new Master."

"Good. Come, vampire. We have work to do."

The monstrous woman followed him into the dark tunnel, easily keeping up with his rapid,
loping gait.

They did indeed have work to do before the students returned. A lot of it, in fact. Slytherin's
new monster and his monstrous pet were, after all, just the beginning of his own master's
plan. Just as the woman, the vampire, who had just blown him with relish was just the first.
Hard to replace, yes, but not all of the night's children served Voldemort willingly. For now.

Soon, they would have no choice, just like all of wizard-kind.

Harry sighed as he finished helping Ron stow Hermione's, Ginny's, Lyra's, and their own
luggage onto the overhead racks and sank into the nearest seat only to have the red-headed
girl claim his lap even though there were two other places to sit comfortably. "Not that I
mind," he chuckled, sliding a hand up Ginny's thigh to where it could rest on her flesh
between skirt and stockings, and then a little higher, "but why this spot?"

Ginny shrugged a little shyly, then leaned in to kiss him. "Going to miss you," she murmured,
"I won't see you 'till after Christmas."

Across from them, Hermione already had a book open and was reading it quickly, while Lyra
examined her left arm, almost like she was looking at how well her nails were done. He
would've thought that's what she was doing, in fact, if her chitinous armor had not been
appearing and disappearing in a rippling wave from the shoulder down to her hand and back.
To his right, Ron stretched his arms out across the back of the seat and his legs across the
entire floor-space of the compartment, and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when the trolley
comes," he muttered.

"I'll miss you, too," he replied to his Pet, "It's going to be a long few weeks."

"But you will have people to shag," she whispered, giving a pointed look at the Succubus,
before watching her practice... whatever she was doing for a moment. "I'll only have my
wand, my fingers, and that delightful purple dildo."

"You stole Hermione's dildo?"

"I stole Lilith's dildo," she whispered back, "I'm pretty sure it's hers."

"Mm... you're probably right," Harry chuckled, sliding his hand a little higher and dipping it
between her thighs, "Do you need a shag before we get to London? One more to hold you
over?"

"Of course," Ginny said with a grin, but opened her legs for his hand instead, "but you can
keep doing that for now."

He cupped her sex casually, not caring any longer that if Ron so much as looked their way, he
would see right up his sister's skirt to where Harry started running his fingernails lightly over
the soft cotton that still covered her, for now. Soon after, the train lurched into motion, and
quickly picked up speed. It would still be a couple of hours, but Harry was sure the trip
would be quiet. There was no more Malfoy to bother him, no Dementors to pass by, and even
Voldemort seemed to still be laying low.

After a few minutes of teasing her, Harry pulled Ginny's knickers to the side and slipped one,
then two fingers into her steaming hot snatch, curling them upward quickly. "I shagged Luna
last night," he told her softly, "And damn."

Ginny sighed, then leaned back against the window to give him even easier access, then lifted
a hand to slip up underneath her shirt and jumper, while the other snaked around and up onto
Harry's bare back beneath his own. "Is she hot?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry told her, in pleased wonderment yet again that he could openly talk
about shagging another pretty, even beautiful girl (and a good friend of his girlfriend) with
her, and another girlfriend and their shared best friend and a brother in the same
compartment. "I think she came... uh, five times? Sexy as hell, and so wet."

"Ah," Ginny moaned, "She... she's a good kisser, right?"

"Very," Harry nodded, then the question and tone it was delivered with sparked something in
Harry. "Wait... she's almost too good. Like... you, in fact."

"We practiced, you know, before... well, before you and I became friends," the ginger told
him, rolling her pelvis against his hand slowly now, languidly increasing her pleasure but
without urging on an orgasm. It seemed, like Harry, that Ginny wanted a leisurely ride
without strenuous activity.

"It shows," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her jaw and then mouth briefly before pulling
back. "D'you reckon you'd kiss her again if she asked?"

"Been waiting for you to shag her," Ginny giggled, "so I could ask. She's in love with you,
you know."

Harry blinked. "But... but she said she wanted to go to the party as friends."

"Of course, because you said as friends," Ginny reminded him, "she wanted to go anyway.
She's liked you since fifth year, almost the day you met, because you didn't make fun of her.
You know you're the first boy she's met that was our age that didn't? You always treated her
like a person, not... Loony."

Harry frowned, glancing at Ron, who he was pretty sure was already asleep as they entered
the hills south of Hogsmeade. Ginny, eyes half-open, answered the unasked question, "Of
course she had a crush on him, still wants to sleep with him, but the prat lost her real
affection a long time ago. Said some pretty vile things, a few years back."

"Oh," Harry muttered, frowning darkly.

"You don't have to go all noble on your best mate," Ginny teased quietly, lifting her far leg to
rest it on his knee and shifted the left hand from her tits to cup his own, pushing it into her
crotch harder and faster, guiding him now, "She told him off herself, and so did Mum and I,
and Bill and Charlie gave him a really good bollocking over how to treat a lady."

"Heh... I think I'd have liked to see that. One after the other?"

"More or less," Ginny said with a happy grin at the memory, "all the same day. That's really
good, Harry... but faster. I'm ready to cum."

"Do it then, Pet," he told her, knowing the phrase would have the exact effect he'd said.

Like himself, Ginny could almost orgasm on command, but it was his command, not hers,
which triggered it. At once, she shuddered faintly, gasping as her eyes rolled back into her
head for a few moments. Harry felt a pool of moisture appear on his pants almost
immediately, which swelled a few inches over the next minute while she came down. Once
she had, Ginny stood up, bent to shove her knickers to her ankles, stepped out of them and
picked them up, pushed them into Harry's robe pockets, "To remember my smell," she
whispered, and then reached for his trousers.

Once his dick was free, Ginny bent to lick the tip a few times, holding her hair back with her
free hand, and then turned to sit on his lap in a different way, completely uncaring that others
were in the room, as usual.

Of course, that was when the door opened, and a harassed-looking Katie Bell came into the
compartment, shutting the door quickly before turning around and leaning against it. "Sorry
for barging in," she groaned tiredly, "But I figure you lot at least won't pester me about
Quidditch practices. You listened to the damned schedule and took notes a week ago."

Harry agreed. He, Ginny, and Ron had all written down the two meetings Katie had asked the
team to meet over the summer for a few hours, though they hadn't yet locked down a place.
Likely, they would be at the Burrow, flying over the apple orchard as usual.

It took a few minutes for Katie to move to the last empty seat and collapse into it, sighing,
"Coote is okay, but Sloper is driving me barmy, asking again and again when we're meeting,
like I haven't already said. Wa- wait, I k- what are you guys doing?"

"Shagging," Ginny said casually as she continued to rise and fall on Harry's cock. She
reached down for her skirt, lifting it to give Katie a view, "Why, jealous?"

The older girl blushed and looked away, "I... not exactly. I've tried the whole... group thing."

"And she liked it," Harry told everyone, figuring it was safe now that she'd admitted that
publicly, at least to this particular group of friends, "but there's more to it."

"Yeah, thanks, Harry," Katie sent him a glower over Ginny's shoulder, but the effect was
marred by her deepening blush. "I'm not ready to get into a relationship just- just yet."

"No one said you were," Lyra piped up, the armor on her arm vanishing quickly while the girl
was still facing the other way, and now appearing just as she had in public for the entire year.
"You can shag without being in a relationship, even if we all are. Sort of, anyway."
"What do you mean, sort of," Katie asked shrewdly, casting an eye over all of them in turn.

Lyra pointed at the opposite bench, where Harry and Ron were sitting, "Ginny's not shagging
her brother, obviously, and Ron and I aren't together, but we are shagging. We're all sort of
together aside from that. Plus sometimes Neville and Hannah Abbot, and Lavender."

Katie let out a long, low whistle, then half under her breath said, "Damn, Potter... I knew you
were getting around, but that many, on the regular?"

"Plus a few Slytherins and now I think a Ravenclaw again," Harry told her.

That made Hermione perk up, but after a few seconds, she looked back down at the thick
book without saying anything.

Still moving on him but taking her time, drawing out their fun, Ginny pulled off her jumper
and began unbuttoning her blouse. Once she was done, Harry watched Katie's face as the
younger girl shook it a few times, "Getting hot in here," Ginny said breathily, "Or maybe it's
just the workout."

"The- the common room was one thing," Katie muttered, blushing again, "but you're getting
off on this whole being in public thing, aren't you?"

Ginny grinned, "And on Harry. His cock's the best, you know?"

Their team Captain didn't say anything, only looked out the window with a darker face than
even before.

"It's okay," Ginny reassured her after several seconds, "You know I don't care if you shag. I
want you to, even. I bet you're good at it."

This did nothing for Katie's blush. "I- I don't... er..."

"It's fine," Ginny giggled again, "Really. Hell, I'd shag you. I've been told I'm better with girls
than boys, even."

This time, the older witch sent her a look that spoke of some disbelief, but also a desire to
trust what the younger was saying.

It was Hermione of all people who tipped the scales, at least as Harry saw it, "It's true," the
bookworm murmured without looking up, "Ginny eats pussy better than anyone but Lilith
and maybe Harry. At least that I've ever met."

"Mm... I think she and Master are about even," Lyra added, "but it's nice to know that I'm still
better."

"They're closing in though," Hermione told the Succubus, "So you should keep practicing,
too. I bet Katie wouldn't mind if you practiced on her."

Left unsaid was the, I know I wouldn't.

Lyra actually leaned forward to look at the Chaser past the reading girl, "Do you want me to
eat you out, Katie? I've been told Succubi are just about the best at everything. And Master
said you were a bit lonely for company a while ago."

"He- he what? Wait, you're- you're a- you're the- her?"

Katie seemed completely gobsmacked. Apparently she hadn't put together the mysterious
transfer student with Harry telling her about his new friend, even though he was pretty sure
he'd flat-out told her before what Lyra was.

Honestly, it was getting hard to keep track of who knew and who didn't.

Lyra only nodded cheerfully, and held up a hand, "No pressure if you don't want me to, of
course, just thought I'd offer. Master says your cunt feels amazing, and I'd love to taste it."

"That'd be hot," Ron muttered, showing he wasn't quite asleep anymore, if he had been, "Go
to town, Lyra."

The Succubus snorted, "I wasn't saying I'd blow you, Ron. But I will, if you want me to."

"Sure."

Harry still wasn't sure if he was really awake or asleep, but somehow Ron unbuckled his own
pants and freed his penis, which wasn't even erect.

Katie gasped, blushed again, but couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. "Like the twins," she
mouthed, or at least that's what Harry thought. It was getting hard to see past Ginny's hair,
which was starting to bounce as her tempo increased.

"I don't know about that," Lyra shrugged, "I've only met Fred and George during mealtimes
at the Weasley's home, but they seem nice enough. Fond memories of you, from as early as
fourth year."

Lyra's casual revelation that she had some form of mind-reading seemed to make Katie very
uncomfortable, for she paled a little and sent her an anxious glance. "Er... p- please don't,
um..."

"Spill your secrets?"

Katie nodded shyly.

The Succubus only shrugged, "I wouldn't, except possibly to Master, who you've already told
the big one. Also, that's not nearly as uncommon as you might think. I know of at least... uh...
nine poly relationships among the students that have started in the last two years. When I
showed up, there were five, and Master's is one of the new ones. It is definitely the biggest,
though, and still growing."

"P- Poly...?"
"Meaning many, or several, or a group," Hermione added, actually looking up and over at the
older girl, "but in this case, it's short for polyamorous. Amour being love. A polyamorous
relationship- also sometimes shortened to 'ship' in popular culture- is one where multiple
partners share their love and affection for all. For example, I am both Harry and Ron's
girlfriend, Ginny is also Harry's, and Lyra sort of fucks us all unconditionally. Hannah and
Neville are together, but we pretty much all shag them, too, though as far as I know all the
blokes here are straight. I shouldn't need to explain that usually us women are less... restricted
as far as that goes."

Katie shook her head dumbly, seeming both fascinated and amazed by the explanation,
despite having, by her own admission, been in such a relationship before. "I... with... well,
um... Harry, can you...?"

"Tell them?"

She nodded shyly, her attention being drawn back to Ginny, who was tweaking her breasts
through the gap in her blouse, and diddling her clit again while she bounced faster and faster.

"I could," Harry replied softly, "but I think it'd do you good to do it."

"I... well... Ron and Ginny's, uh..."

"Oh, yeah, didn't think of that. But really, you think they'd care?"

"What," Ginny moaned, while Lyra took pity on Ron and crossed the compartment onto her
knees to start licking his still-limp but exposed genitals, "You think we wouldn't want to be
with you after you shagged our brothers?"

This time, Katie's insecurities were obviously at the forefront as she nodded again, her mouth
parting slightly with growing arousal.

"I-" Ginny said, the words interspersed between growing pants. She was getting close now,
Harry knew, and he wasn't too far off himself, "I've eaten- Hermione's cunt- after- Ron's- c-
creampied- her... Harry's- shagged her hard- after and- before R-Ron. Don't- ugh- care..."

Ginny suddenly froze as her climax peaked again, except for her vaginal muscles milking his
cock while he was buried to the hilt. Knowing what she wanted even though he wasn't quite
there yet naturally, Harry sent his lust surging out with a healthy serving of his semen deep
into Ginny's body, which accepted it eagerly.

Shakily, Ginny slid up and off him, then bent to clean him with her mouth, as was her duty as
his pet, while Lyra started sucking in earnest on Ron's now-hard cock next to them. Katie
could do nothing but watch as the red-head, once she was finished with Harry, turned on her
knees. "Seriously, I'll do it right now if you want. I'd love to taste my sexy Captain."

"E-Er... m-maybe later," Katie demurred, though Harry was pleased to notice her thighs
twisting together, rubbing against each other while she split her attention between his
exposed, still hard and wet dick, Ginny's open blouse and the smell of their sex that wafted
up from beneath her skirt, and Lyra and Ron, who now had his eyes open and was watching
the Succubus go at him with fervor.

"No?" Ginny asked after a second, "What about you, Hermione?"

The book clapped shut, surprising Katie enough to make her jump. "I suppose, you insatiable
slag. Go ahead, I suppose it'll be a while until I can have the pleasure again."

"Sweet," Ginny laughed, and soon her legs were intertwined with Lyra's as they faced the
opposite direction from each other, both showing their current partner that they would be
missed, too.

Katie had left them without engaging in other activities, and Lavender had come and gone,
sucking off Ron, eating out both Ginny and Hermione, and let Harry take her doggystyle on
the floor, and even Hannah and Neville had made an appearance, Ginny blowing the blonde
boy and Hannah taking Ron deep in her arse while she sucked on Hermione's tits, and Lyra
tit-fucked Harry (possibly for the last time, she had whispered before doing it, in that form).

This, all before they had reached the outskirts of London, and the group had scrambled to re-
dress in their more casual clothing, while the girls were covered in or leaking fluids from
several spots.

All in all, it was probably the most pleasant train-ride to or from Hogwarts Harry had yet
experienced, even including the recent ones when he'd gotten blowjobs or had sex at least
once each way every time.

The train pulled into the busy platform 9 3/4 just after five-o'clock thanks to an afternoon
snowstorm while passing between Scotland and England, moving down into the lowland
forests that filled the southern half of the island wherever there weren't people.

The scene at the platform itself was predictable, families greeting their kin, students milling
about, wishing their friends happy holidays, and so on. They had just met up with the
Weasleys, including a disgruntled-looking Bill and a cheerful (for once) Sirius Black, who
was out in public, free, and very happy to be so as Harry swept him into an ecstatic, yet
manly hug.

The older wizard noted, not for the last time, that even though Harry was a bit short for his
age, he was taller than he had been just a few short months ago, and quite noticeably so. In
fact, if he wasn't mistaken... "You might be as tall as Moony, pup."

Harry grinned as they separated, and Sirius turned his attention (and not a small number of
hugs from the females of the group) to those who knew him, and gave a polite hand-shake to
Neville, and a deep bow with knuckle-kissing to a blushing Hannah.

The crowd was still thick, and they were just beginning to debate heading out when it
happened.
Still riding the post-coital bliss and overjoyed to be around family and friends they had
missed, none of the group, even Lyra, were prepared for the sudden depressurization of the
entire area's atmosphere. Every single person, owl, cat, elf, or toad suddenly began to feel
faint and gasp, clutching at their chests or throats. Lyra, the only one who didn't need to
breathe, mouthed wordlessly as she stopped to gape at every living creature's sudden,
desperate survival instinct.

Fortunately, the lack of pressure lasted only a split-second, and the crowd of hundreds of
wizard-kind took a gasping, collective shuddering breath. Many of those with weaker
constitution, children, the elderly, or those less prepared, were already on their knees, while
the rest spent a few seconds trying to find out what was happening. All around Harry, while
his own instinct was to draw his wand and fight though he had no target, people were crying
out, asking each other what was going on.

That was when the entire second car, the prefects' car, imploded in a colossal wave of acid-
green light that appeared around it in a mostly translucent sphere, but that, as the sphere
collapsed in an instant, gathered density and force. Seventeen or more people that Harry
could see as he spun toward the high-pitched whining were caught up in it, yanked into the
air along with the car itself toward the epicenter of the sphere, some twenty feet off the
ground. Their bodies, like the car, blurred in slow motion as the sphere continued to contract
with sonic speed, growing brighter and brighter until the entire sphere, which had once
spanned at least fifty feet in diameter, was no larger than a thimble of tightly-compressed
magical energy, and far too many tons of debris and what had once been people.

"Get down!" Harry cried as he, like so many others, stared at the brilliant light.

Some panicking people obeyed, throwing themselves over family and friends, dragging more
down. A few who had hold of arms or other parts of their family, twisted on the spot and
disApparated instead, and one lucky family who had already been at the front of the queue
for the Floo vanished in a flash of darker green flame, just in time.

Those who were still standing, about a quarter of the former crowd and more than fifty
people Harry guessed, were blasted off their feet. Those closest were struck by flying metal
and bone at unimaginable velocity as the sphere's contents exploded outward, and even the
ones who had been able to hit the floor of the platform were obliterated as the remains of the
train car peppered their bodies with millions of sand-sized particles with the density of iron
or steel moving at thousands of feet per second. They did not even have time to mist, they
were suddenly simply gone, melded into what was left of the ground or walls.

Some of those further away still screamed as the wave passed, a sickly purple-blue now, more
of the debris moving outward in the wake of the magic, but anyone who had managed to get
further than sixty feet from the imploding and then exploding car on the too-small platform
felt only a faint breeze as the magic passed by, the particles no longer having the inertia to do
any real damage.

For a few moments, as Harry stared at the place the train car had been but was now a crater
some nine feet deep through the rails and all, the scarlet locomotive rolled slowly down and
back into the hole as its own weight buckled the last bits of rail that had survived, twisted and
molten-hot as they were.
Then the screaming started. Cries of pain, terror, fear, and loss as those nearby who had
survived realized what Harry had already seen.

Then, through the light snow and gathering clouds, he saw a shadow begin to take form,
massive and large. A skull, made of cloud and magic itself, with a long snake coiling from it
in the place of a tongue. The Dark Mark.

Voldemort's sign, for when he or his followers had killed. A sign of terror.

Harry heard a growl from nearby as he pushed himself to his feet, a quick glance telling him
that Sirius, somehow, had pulled Hermione and Hannah (of course the girls) to the ground
and shielded them from more than a few bruises and a layer of dust. Ron, Ginny, and Lyra
were rising too, quicker to react thanks to years of Quidditch if nothing else, or preternatural
reflexes.

Only as he saw blood on the backs or even fronts of so many survivors did he take a moment
to realize in the dreadful, wail-filled calm, that the growl was coming from his own throat.

There was a whump, then another, and another, five in all, as great shadows thirty feet tall or
more appeared along the tracks from the front of the train out into London proper. The
nearest turned toward them as it dropped a single long rope, hundreds of feet, that each of the
creatures had held in their meaty, hairy and gnarled hands. It was humanoid, but twisted and
misshapen, as if the rocks themselves had been fashioned into something like people, but
with just enough skill to carve out eyes, nose, and mouth.

The nearest one looked like the largest, and it bent nearly in half to survey the survivors, who
began to cry out in even more renewed terror. "Giants! Fekkin' Giants," someone shouted.

Harry had never seen just how big a real Giant was. Hagrid's half-brother, Grawp, who had
been large enough to easily pick up and hold a mostly-grown Hermione in a single hand like
a doll last year, was only eighteen feet tall. These giants were about half again that high, and
probably six times more massive.

And the larger one was looking over the crowd with a greedy, hungry look. Almost casually,
it reached down to the tottering locomotive, and hefted it with a single hand, which closed
over the thing as if it was holding a medium-sized branch or club at best. "Oh, fuck," he
heard Ron mutter, "He's gonna-"

No one had time to do more than scream again as the entire scarlet engine of the Hogwarts
Express came hurtling toward them, spinning through the air with an odd grace. Dimly, a part
of Harry realized that, for all their huge size, Giants could be pretty smooth in their
movements. It was, after all, a nearly perfect throw for a club-like object into soft meaty
matter.

The locomotive hit the crowd about forty feet past Harry, thankfully near the edge of the
platform, and lengthwise down the tracks. He had no idea how many people had died,
crushed beneath it, but that was where most people had been fleeing in their haste to leave.
Without looking, his heightened senses and now fully kicked-in battle awareness told him
that the spin it had been thrown with would not have stopped, so the car carved an almost
wave-like swath through the last twenty feet of the platform, leaving collapsed ribs on the
least-effected, and bloody smears of bone and red on most.

Thus far, he estimated the attack had taken less than ten seconds, yet if he had to put a
horrifying number on it, more than fifty people were dead.

His wand was already in his hand, a steady, reassuring presence, warm and promising
violence. Normally, the touch of the Phoenix-feather wand brought peace and tranquility,
comfort. Now, he knew full well why it was truly the brother to Voldemort's. He had already
killed, was no stranger to taking lives, not anymore. But today...

He would take more.

His wand rose, and alongside him, a blood- and dust-covered Sirius' suit-clad arm did the
same, a new wand he'd never seen before in his shaking grip. A moment later, just as
inspiration struck, so did more. Hermione's, Ron's, and Ginny's he recognized at once. Then
Neville's, and that same wizard's elderly grandmother, her vulture-hat askew, stepped forward
past him into view.

There were more.

Harry didn't look, but he could feel the rage and righteous anger that flooded through those
who could stand.

Lyra, behind and to his right, melted away, and in her place stood Lilith, tall, buxom, clad in
armor of purple-black. In one hand, she wielded blood-red flame, and in the other, a long,
semi-translucent whip studded with spikes that each aimed back toward the handle, ranging
from needle-thin and only an inch long to six inches, more like the blades of a dagger toward
the heavy tip. It moved and coiled through the air as his pet took her place at his side, her
beautiful face rapturous with fury as her wings beat slowly.

For a moment, in the adrenaline-fueled heat of his new reality, Harry considered that it was
too bad they hadn't been able to keep her secret longer. Too many people would see,
Voldemort would learn what she was.

But just then, he decided it didn't matter.

No... what mattered were the dead, and the living who would be forced to mourn them.

Iron gates stronger than any spell crashed down on his emotions, channeling them, guiding
them along the pathways of his mind toward a singular purpose.

Ending the threat.

Even caring for the wounded would have to wait, at least for him. "Get the wounded out if
you can," he commanded, his magic rippling out along the vibrations in the air to pass
through so many of those who had not already risen to fight. With it came purpose, direction,
and the lost sheep, the lambs for whom he had suddenly become a shepherd, began to move.

Then, "Diffindo."
A simple Charm, taught in second year, and reviewed in fourth-year Defense Against the
Dark Arts. A spell Harry had mastered in that year for its sheer utility.

The ability to cut things with a word and a simple flick of the wand to guide the spell's energy
from point A to point B was beyond useful for so many things. And as Professor Flitwick and
then the false Moody had ingrained on the students of Harry's year, if used improperly or
without care, it could be dangerous, even deadly.

Harry did not miss, and behind that simple spell was a lifetime of agony at pain endured, pain
witnessed, and new horrors such as he had yet to process. Giants are highly resistant to
magic, which helped mitigate the effects.

Three of the huge leader's fingers on his right hand, which had thrown the locomotive engine,
fell, spinning and arcing, onto the rooftops of King's Cross Station and the tracks the giant
stood over. Blood, hot and steaming in the winter air, joined those of the humans it had slain
in a bright arc of deep, malignant red darker than any humans would be, to splatter against
wall and ground alike as the giant reeled back, recoiling and roaring to the sky in pain.

More light lanced out, spiraling, twisting, jerking, sputtering, and moving laser-straight in
turn, in a rainbow of colors as those around him began to unleash whatever spell they could
think of up into the nearest giant's face. Most splashed harmlessly against it, but a few caused
small cuts or bruises, and a well-placed piercing hex smashed into one snaggled tooth,
fracturing it into pieces inside the giant's roaring mouth.

It took a step back at the onslaught, raising an arm to protect its more vulnerable eyes, and
stumbled into another giant, a female, who roared and shoved back, making the wounded
monster take an unsteady step forward, too. Right into the crater.

Unable to see clearly through the debris, dust and magic in the air, it misjudged, and began to
tumble. "Repulso!" Harry cried, along with a change in focus from more than a dozen witches
and wizards, who cast the same spell nearly simultaneously.

It didn't do much, but did twist the body of the giant so that he landed on his side rather than
his stomach, and sprawled over the train rather than on, as far as Harry could tell in the heat
of the moment, any person. Two cars were still crushed, probably beyond repair, but that was
minor.

The female he had backed into roared down at them in defiance, showing two rows of
blackened, jagged teeth as spittle flew through the snow back at them.

Harry did not care, though he heard Ron recoil as a hand-sized droplet smashed into his robes
just below the knee. "Eww!"

"Sectumsempra!"

Harry still did not know the name of the wizard who had written all the copious notes in his
permanently-borrowed Potions textbook, but the target noted, For Enemies, could not be
more clear in this moment. There was no visible effect, but as he followed the instructions,
slashing through the air as though he were wielding a greatsword one-handed, slashes deeper
than even his cutting hex appeared in a huge X on the female's torso, completely removing
one arm in the process, and letting part of her ragged, hide tunic flap downward. He had no
care for her bared lower breast.

Instead, finding it effective, Harry only growled, "Sectumsempra," again. He did not notice,
as he stepped forward aggressively, Sirius' worried, astounded look in his direction.

More slashes appeared, this time along the giantess' thighs, one on the inside and one on the
front. The former began to bleed copiously as she roared, staggered, and fell to a knee. The
club she had carried in her spare hand as she arrived via the Portkey crashed to the tracks,
bending them with a squeal of metal that sliced through the din of battle and roar of the giants
toward the rear with a high pitch. A third cast drew three lines in a Z in a more focused
pattern across the giantess' neck, which lolled back as her body fell with it, a three-layered
wall of dark red gouted into the air to send a rain down around the crater, which moved
almost like a hosepipe sprinkler's spray over her body and then, at the end as it died out along
with her life, the third giant.

Now all three of them left, who had mostly been focused on causing mayhem and destruction
to the station itself, turned toward the crowd, bellowing out their fury at seeing one comrade
killed and the other brought low.

That nearest giant kicked out, thankfully only grazing one seventh-year Harry barely knew
who had risen with a younger sibling under one arm. He went skidding, but he somehow
rolled, and a moment later was on his feet again, an eleven- or twelve-year old girl sobbing in
his arms as he resumed running for the Floo.

Harry roared himself, and did not use verbal magic this time, caught up in the moment as he
was, there was simply no time. But his focus was sufficient, and as he swished and flicked at
a breakneck pace to his left, the train car nearest the fallen giant's head rose, ripped free by
the several large impacts and its own weight, from the cars ahead and behind. It rose high,
rocketing into the air under Harry's intense guidance, and then crashed downward like a
comet as Harry knocked one of Ron's spells askew, smashing his arm into his friend's.

The train-car smashed into the half-standing giant's crown with the speed of a jet plane at full
throttle, if not quite the mass, and punched a hole clear through, spearing the skull from the
bridge of its nose to far past its ear, and at a diagonal angle out the other side, bouncing off
the giant's bare, heavily muscled shoulder. It didn't even groan, merely collapsed back onto
the ground, half-laying on the train car that had killed it.

The spells continued to come from their side, and he heard the pop, pop, pop, of rapid-fire
Apparition. Soon, more spells were headed toward the giants, along with the occasional
fireball from Lilith's hand.

Without warning, a great gout of heat and white flame erupted behind Harry, who spun to
face the new threat as he felt hair on the back of his neck sizzle and crisp.

More screaming, more blood, more pain, as another threat forced its way through the too-
small Floo through what must have been a powerful enchantment to keep the connection
open. The head, he recognized at once, of a dragon. What type, he did not know, but it
was furious. He could see just one eye, and snarling, dripping fangs that boiled away the spit
as it inhaled for another gout of flame.

More pops as he looked back at the Giants, who were still lumbering toward them. Nine
seconds, as one club was already rising high.

The dragon would take three to inhale, more or less. Lessons from Hagrid, before they'd been
able to convince him to get rid of Norberta: most dragons, aside from just a few breeds, took
about six seconds to inhale enough to breath fire effectively. Only the Chinese Fireball and
Ukrainian Ironbelly differed much from that, the Fireball taking almost twice as long and the
Ironbelly about half of that, for their inner fires burned hotter than most, and had higher
metabolisms.

This was neither, he wasn't sure what kind it was, but he had less time there.

"Lilith, the Dragon," he cried, turning fully to face it as more people panicked, the only
escape route for most was closed.

"On it, Master," she said firmly, leaping into the air and extending her wings, hurtling as
quickly as she could toward it. She wouldn't get there in time, he knew, but maybe she could
prevent a third blast.

"Conjure rocks in front of it," he commanded, but too few that were fighting were facing that
way, and as he worked his own unmastered conjuration- they'd only begun truly studying
conjuring in this year's Transfiguration classes, after all- the hasty wall was too small.

Yellow-white the dragon's now open maw lit up from within, and in slow motion once again
grew and grew, brighter and hotter, until the air shimmered and warped before more blazing,
blinding-bright flame screamed out.

This time, thankfully, there was no one in the way of the direct blast, but the mound of bricks
scattered some of the flames, causing it to lick out at random and scorch a few of the fighters
in that area who had turned to face the newer threat. One fell to the ground, hastily conjuring
water to attempt to douse her flaming robes, the other ignored the burning as he whipped his
wand toward the dragon, sending a spell that glanced off its eye-socket harmlessly.

It roared and jerked forward another foot or two, still trying to force its way through the too-
small hole, gnashed its teeth, and started inhaling again.

Harry turned, feeling adrenaline pump even faster as something akin to lust washed through
him. He knew without looking that Lilith had reached the dragon and engaged it. He did not
have the attention to discern what she was doing, but their connection burned with anger and
passion equal to his own. As he turned back toward the giants, he found Hermione bleeding
from a cut across her forehead, but still casting beside Hannah, who had fallen to her rump
but was holding out a shaky wand herself, and Susan Bones, who had materialized out of the
rubble with her middle-aged aunt in tow. "Harry," Susan gasped, "Auntie's here! The
Aurors!"

"Good," he growled, "Dragon on one side, giants on the other, ma'am!"

"I see that," Amelia Bones, the director of the DMLE, shot right back testily, her wand
already whipping through the air in complicated patterns, "Good work so far, Potter!"

"Ma'am!"

There was no time for pride. He had to fight.

The fourth giant's left eye was pulverized already as he looked at it, but the long pine it bore
almost as a quarterstaff swept through the air. Six people ducked out of the arc, but two did
not make it, and neither head survived the impact. Both bodies crumpled. Harry roared again,
and his wand began to move, copying the older, gray-haired witch's movements as best he
could, mirroring her spells. Susan was doing the same, a little slower, and calling out the
words, unlike her more experienced aunt.

Harry switched his attention a moment later, spinning around Amelia to stand on the other
side of Susan, and cast over Hermione and Hannah's heads. It was slower, but he actually
knew what spells Susan was using. The other hand, almost without willing it, burst into
crimson fire, gathering heat that did not burn, swirling and coursing with his love for the
people who had been lost, those who had to now carry on without loved ones, without parents
like himself, or their children, or who had lost siblings. Sympathy and empathy alike
powered his fury, and as the emotion that energized him, drove his need to fight, to destroy,
and to defend coalesced there along with his magic both new and old, he hurled it almost like
a stone.

The ball burned at the core with the same sort of white-hot intensity the dragon had exhaled,
but the outer areas licked with the color of blood-mixed flame as it spiraled and twisted,
corkscrewing through the air along its directed path. To his left, the collection of witches and
Ron winced and recoiled, but most of them only for a moment.

He would let no more come to harm.

There had already been too much death.

The roiling energy smashed into the giant's last eye, which exploded with the heat as energy
only slightly dissipated into the viscous fluid inside the orb. The thin bone at the back of the
socket did not last long either, even as sturdy as giants were. The brain behind that liquified
in a four-foot cylinder, and boiled and hissed for another five feet beyond that, until the
fireball, much weakened, detonated once more against the inside of the giant's skull at the
back. It toppled slowly, wavering back and forth, unable even to gasp in pain as its last
moments were filled with a cascading failure of every brain function, conscious or not.

Two giants left, and the dragon, which he still felt Lilith's will working to subdue, fighting as
furiously as he was, the other half, it seemed, of his own divided soul.

There were more, softer whap, whap, whap noises as a half-dozen Death Eaters arrived, three
on each side of the tracks where the giants had appeared. They immediately began sending
spells toward the defenders, and Harry's wand almost reflexively moved into casting the
Shield Charm, Protego, constantly. Even as focused as his magic was in the midst of this
pitched battle, each cast lasted only a few seconds under the rapid-fire barrage of spells the
enemy were sending his way.

Others around him were erecting more solid barriers, levitating fallen bricks, shards of
wrecked train, and even one giant finger to absorb some of the spells, including a long stream
of sickly green from a bulky, tousle-haired blond Death Eater that Harry recognized from the
Azkaban breakout photos the year before. Thorfinn Rowle.

Those, he knew, would not be stopped by his shield charm or anyone else's. The rubble and
debris could stop the lethal Killing Curse, but at the cost of recasting whatever spell had
created the barrier again and again, which was tiring and did not always work. One mis-
aimed defense would result in a dead target.

The fire appeared in his hand again without conscious thought, though Harry hurled it with
just as much intent as he had against the giant.

Rowle looked up from his barrage just in time to catch the crimson and white flames in his
face, blasting his hood off as he was incinerated from the waist up in a few seconds flat.

"That's heavy resistance," one of the Death Eaters cried, sounding worried.

Good, Harry thought, let them feel fear for once!

"Keep fightin'," a rough-looking man roared. Rowle had been the only one not wearing a
mask, so Harry could not identify the voice, though it sounded familiar. Spells lanced back
and forth as a battle-line was beginning to form, but the Death Eaters were severely
outnumbered, so long as the dragon did not breath again, and the giants...

The giants were retreating! One had turned and run, the other reached for the rope, yanking it
off the ground and hollering at it in some language Harry did not know, but that sounded
vaguely Slavic, or maybe Danish.

"What's that thing by the dragon?" a third Death Eater yelled, pointing with his wand-free
hand over their heads.

The Death Eaters, mid-cast, stopped to look as one, like morons.

One went down at once, several hexes hitting her chest, leaving bloody holes.

Another erected a Shield Charm of his own just in time, but it folded a moment later, and he
took a Piercing Hex to the cheek, sending him spinning to the ground, too.

"Fuck, back to the Portkey," the woman who'd spoken first shouted, "We've got to tell the
Dark Lord about that new creature!"

The three remaining Death Eaters began to step back hastily, the other two lying down
covering fire for the last female as she bent to sweep up another, shorter rope, and throw it
over both of the male's shoulders. "Home!"
The word was simple and the only activation the safety on the Portkey needed. At once, the
three remaining black-robed figures vanished as soon as they had come.

The last giant was still shouting at the rope, a growing look of panic on his face as he turned
to watch the four dozen or so Aurors running toward it, more and more spells coming.

It shouted one more time, then turned and ran after its fellow, who had already vanished into
the increasing snow, no doubt leaving a trail of devastation through downtown London.

It did not make it far, as a trio of powerful blasting hexes smashed into the back of a single
knee, buckling it. He lost track of how many spells hit its head along with the tracks
themselves, but Harry suspected it would not rise again.

So he turned away from the friends and allies he was standing beside, a worried look cast
about to make sure they were still standing, fighting.

Only Ron was down on his side, but his wand was still held in a shaky grip as he rolled over
to look toward the dragon, a determined expression on his face as his mother and father now
stood over him, blood and sweat-streaked just as everyone else still present, and sent a spell
at the dragon.

A dragon which was motionless, or nearly so, but who looked with its single eye facing them
directly into Lilith's battle-form face, its slit pupil wildly dilated and glowing with a rosy hue
as it panted. Her whip had several spines embedded into the long, narrow snout while it
twined three times around it, holding it closed, but the dragon did not seem to care.

"Stop! Stop casting on the dragon," he commanded, "Stop!"

Most did quickly, the power and tone of Harry's voice convincing even a few of the Aurors to
stand down for a moment, though no one dared lower their wands toward the terrifying beast,
even though only half of its head was visible.

A moment later, Amelia's voice rang out even louder, but just as firmly, "Squads one through
five, after the giant! There's one still out there in downtown London! Cambry, get the
Magical Reversal Squads on-scene, now, and the Obliviators after that! The rest of you, stand
the fuck down, but keep your wands on that monster and the giants! Make sure they stay
down!"

Then, a little quieter as she strode past him, "With me, Potter."

He did not question her. She was one to be obeyed, her wisdom and experience giving him
more than enough comfort to defer leadership.

He had, after all, only taken it because he knew no one else would and could.

Harry realized his hands were shaking violently along with the rest of him as he and Amelia
Bones stepped up to stand next to Lilith. The dragon's breath smelled of sulfur and death, and
it was taking great, gasping, panting breaths, but held still aside from a quivering in its
dinner-plate sized nostrils as they fought to feed its probably massive body as it was...
exerting itself, somehow?

"I have it rutting, Master," Lilith said quietly, "just against the ground. Male, you see. I think
it's claw might've gutted a Death Eater on the other side, but most got free when they realized
it wasn't going to make it through and started fighting their bonds."

Amelia sent a long look up and down Lilith's true form, looked at Harry with a measured
gaze for a moment, then turned toward the dragon, her tone all business. "It's helpless?"

"No," Lilith gave an almost mournful laugh, "but it can't fight back unless it's hurt. It will
break my hold the moment it's actually injured. Minor pain won't do much, I have it pretty
deeply enthralled right now. It's... taking a lot, Master. I can hold it a while longer, but not
more than an hour. Likely less."

"Alright," Harry said, looking to the older witch, "What do you want her to do?"

"You are sure you can hold it?"

Lilith nodded, sweat, actual sweat, beginning to bead on her purple-pink skin. "For a while,
yes. It wants only to mate, and thinks it has a dragon pinned beneath it right now."

"Good. Hold it. Do you know- can you read it? I need to know where the rest of it is, the Floo
is too damaged to back-trace it. The whole of Central London's network got ripped apart
when that thing went through. That was our first alarm, actually."

"Someplace with a castle and a very large dungeon, underground," Lilith said quietly, her
eyes shining with her familiar pink hue as she reached out to lay a long-nailed hand on the
dragon's brow and leaned a little closer, her face coming to less than a foot from the great
eye, which was as big as her whole torso. "Cold. North, I think."

"Not much North of here with a big castle except Hogwarts, and they don't have a dungeon
that could hold this," Amelia muttered thoughtfully, rubbing her chin with a slightly wrinkled
hand. "Maybe... Glasgow? No..."

"It hadn't been there long," Lilith added after another moment, "but it saw fields, not trees.
The land was flat."

"That narrows it down a little. Alright. Anything else?"

After a few more seconds, Lilith shook her head slightly, never breaking eye contact with the
dragon. "No, it was unconscious until just before they dragged it inside. It only had a few
seconds. It was caught in... someplace warmer, near large mountains with snow in the heat of
summer?"

"That could be nearly any preserve," Amelia grumbled, "but it's better than nothing I
suppose. Thank you. We'll try to get to wherever it's at. Potter, stay here, but get word to me
through the Aurors if either she's about to slip up, or you get a better location."

"Right. Yes, ma'am," Harry returned, fighting the urge to snap off a salute.
She turned away, her own eyes watching the crowd as much as Harry's did, and began
barking out more commands, one after the other, which even the civilians leapt to obey.

"You used Passionfire," Lilith said more quietly, still looking toward the dragon, "I felt it. I
came, you know? It- it gave me the strength to break its will. Whatever was commanding this
dragon, it was very powerful. This one is an alpha."

"Probably Voldemort, then," Harry growled, "Something like the Imperius, maybe, or a
potion."

"Perhaps. You did well, Harry. Thank you. Many lives were saved. I know many were lost,
but they are not down to your actions. More would have fallen without you."

Harry nodded, feeling a strange kinship with the captive dragon, forced to fight when it
wanted nothing but to exist, to be, to live. He rested a hand on its snout too, and at his touch,
the whip recoiled, melting into Lilith's hand, brushing one spine across the back of his hand
as it did. He glanced at the Succubus, who must have done it purposefully, then back down at
the welting line of blood. "What was that for?"

"Because you felt you needed it," she replied quietly, "You carry so much guilt, Master, and
you don't need to. So I gave you a little punishment, like dear Pansy. You must let it go, or it
will destroy you. Remember the righteous fury you felt just a short time ago. That is how you
should feel about this... this cowardly, horrific act. You did well, better than anyone has a
right to expect."

"I suppose," he murmured, the blood running slowly from his hand and onto the dragon's
mouth, where it leaked slowly inside. "I feel bad for it. Him. I'm sure they'll put him down,
when it wasn't his fault."

"I agree," the Succubus replied mournfully, "which is why I'm trying to make his last
moments pleasurable. It did not deserve this, no more than the victims did. Those giants came
to kill, however, of their own will."

"I've heard again and again they are vicious, love to fight and destroy," Harry told her, "from
nearly every wizard or witch I've ever discussed them with. But Hagrid has a half-brother
who is... more like a child who does not know his strength. He isn't vicious."

"It may be a case of nature versus nurture then," she told him quietly, just audible over the
continued orders, cries of pain or for assistance with the wounded or trapped. "Their culture
may demand it, ingrain it in them from birth, but that does not mean of course that they all
turn out that way."

Harry nodded, "Like the children of Death Eaters who now fight alongside us. Did you see
Millicent and Warrington? Even Daphne and Tracey cast a few times before taking cover. I
didn't see Pansy, though, or Astoria."

"Cast out," the Succubus told him, "I can't spare the magic or concentration. You have a bond
with each of them, too, Master. Use those feelings to find them. If you find nothing after
trying, after remembering what they feel like to you..."
She did not finish it, did not need to. Harry understood, would have without even their own
Bond. If he reached out to find the emotions of those he cared for and found nothing, they
were no longer there to find. He almost did not dare to try, could not bear the knowledge that
some of those he knew would almost certainly be gone.

He started with Hermione and the Weasleys, and slumped against the dragon, leaning his
head on the scorching muzzle, ignoring the pain it created in his forehead as he felt them. His
favorite swot, Arthur and Molly standing near their children, Bill, Ron, and Ginny. Then
Sirius, who was helping Molly patch up her son's rather serious but not life-threatening injury
in preparation for taking him to St. Mungo's to add to the growing crowd of patients.

The reassuring, but frantic heartbeat of Daphne as she held both Tracey and Astoria to her
full chest, all three sobbing, but unhurt. Pansy, hiding behind the still-furious Millicent and
Cassius, who shielded her from bystanders that accused her of being a spy, of helping to
coordinate the attack that had nearly killed her. Staring in horrified awe at her wand, which
he remembered through her eyes being the one that had pulped the third giant's first eye.

He felt pride and love anew, and looked up, "Director Bones!"

She turned and looked, held up a finger to stall the conversation she was having in hurried
words with a few other senior Aurors including a dusty, too-thin Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks,
his protégé, to hurry back toward him. Tonks snapped off a salute then blew him a kiss that
would've made Harry blush a year before, and had her hand slapped for her trouble by the
grizzled ex-Auror, who had seemingly come out of retirement today.

"What is it, Potter?"

 Aftermath

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Chap. 63: Aftermath

He followed the fear, pain, and regret currently centered in his heart, and pointed. "Through
there, there's a crowd of people, mostly students, accusing three Slytherins of being behind or
coordinating the attack. They aren't, they are entirely innocent. I'll vouch for them. Pansy
Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Cassius Warrington. My friends will look after them.
Susan will, too."

"On it. Brooks, Dunne, Under, Oveir, with me!"

Four maroon-robed Aurors left whatever tasks they were doing without question and fell into
step behind their boss, and Harry exhaled with relief. They would be safe again soon, with
their new family. His family took care of their own, even if they were adopted. Especially,
because he knew what being an orphan was like.
A minute later, just as he was falling back into his own heart's eye to seek out more, he heard
distant shouting as the Aurors and Amelia gave the growing crowd a severe dressing-down,
and sent them about helping their fellow wounded or clearing the hell out, and leaving
innocent students alone. As his attention left Pansy, all he felt was surprise, gratitude, and a
small, rekindled glimmer of hope. He grinned against the dragon's slowly-cooling scales once
more, as he felt out Lavender, worried but far distant. Word had gotten to her, he could tell,
but the Browns had left before the attack had begun.

Parvati and Padma, he felt, were with her.

Luna, too, was gone, but her father had Apparated them home in the first moments, before
the train-car had erupted once more. They had some injuries, but they were minor from
splinching, and Xenophilius, for all his oddities, knew a bit about healing charms. Luna felt
safe, anyway, and that was enough for Harry.

Katie... Katie was still here, even close.

He opened his eyes, and as he turned in her direction they immediately locked onto the
sobbing witch just a year older than he, who knelt next to the body of a young man who
resembled her closely, while her parents further surrounded him. "Katie's brother," he
whispered, "he's gone."

Standing a bit further back, her dark hand bloody as well, stood Angelina Johnson, the
Captain of their team last year and one of the women Katie had wanted to enter a group
marriage with. She was crying, sobbing, but unhurt. His bond as her friend was at least
enough to tell Harry that she only felt pain for the lost and those who already mourned,
especially Katie's brother, Katie herself, and a crushing sense of loss where Alicia Spinnet
had once been.

Tears hit the dragon's scales then, hot and wet, and boiled away almost at once, further
scalding Harry's cheeks, but he did not care.

Hannah and Neville were injured as well, but they were relatively minor. Each had, he felt,
shielded each other admirably. Seamus... Seamus Finnegan was gone. Not nearby, not far,
just... gone. Dean Thomas was dumbstruck, not too far distant, next to the smear of blood left
by the locomotive beyond the dragon's head.

"Seamus is dead," Harry whispered, "Dean is in shock over there."

He didn't bother pointing, knew that Lilith was with him in spirit, knew where Dean was as
well as he.

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

He sobbed quietly. He knew at least one of his friends would be gone, and still counted
himself lucky that so far he was the only one. Even if he felt worse than before as he recalled
the words Seamus had said early the previous year. He's dangerous!
He was, Harry knew. Dangerous. It followed him like a hunter, killed so many of those he
cared for. But Harry was past blaming himself. There was danger in being near him, yes,
caused by those who truly hunted him.

Harry was tired of it.

From now on, he resolved, thinking it to himself and Lilith, for the words would come out
loud soon enough to his friends, the danger comes to the enemies around me. I will not let
them do this again. We hunt them as we can.

"No, Master," Lilith said softly, her own voice trembling with echoed pain, "Not yet. Soon,
but not yet. You did amazingly, brilliantly, but you are not ready yet. Your army is not ready."

He paused, still crying silently, then nodded, scraping his burned forehead over the scales
roughly. "You're right. But soon."

"Yes."

That was it.

Fay Dunbar, Romilda Vane, so many members of the D.A., flew through Harry's mind faster
and faster as he grew more used to the skill, using even the decreasingly strong bonds to
flicker through them.

After perhaps twenty minutes, he lifted his head, his eyes dry from the heat of the dragon's
still-warm jaws, and turned to face the Succubus again. "I count at least seventy-one dead,
using the minds of only those I know."

"Fuck," she whispered back, "what a waste."

"We're going to pay him back, and then some."

"Good, Master. When we're ready."

"Yes."

Again, that was it, until his friends began to gather around them. First, as always, were Ron
and Hermione, she helping him to walk with a hand around his shoulder and waist and no
longer in need of a trip to the hospital for now, Ginny on the other side, while his mother
fretted over the large patch of blood on his side, and his father scanned the crowd both warily
and wearily, still on the watch for a threat. Bill had left, it seemed, or was back with more
wounded.

Then Neville, Susan, Hannah, and several more members of the D.A., two of whom went to
help Dean toward them.

He stumbled as if drunk, unseeing, but moved.

Seamus had been his best friend, and though Dean was uninjured, the young man right next
to him had vanished in a blur of red steel and screeching metal on brick. It still had not sunk
in, and he had been staring at the smear of red waiting for his friend to pop out of it.

Harry sighed as the dragon lurched once, its entire head shaking, and the pink light shining
from its eye went dark. Lilith stood then, stretching, and turned to survey the crowd from her
greater height, no longer caring that several of them were pointing and looking at her,
whispering to each other. "He's gone," she said quietly, "I felt echoes of it... more of the
Killing Curse. That magic is so foul."

"Not illegal to use it on a killer dragon, though," Harry whispered.

"Still."

A short while later, a very tired-looking Amelia Bones left a glut of Aurors and still half-
panicked people who wanted answers and right now, dammit, to move toward the larger
crush of students, who, almost as one, moved to block her from Harry.

"Let her through," he said quietly.

It took a moment, and Amelia had actually come to a halt on the other side of the human
wall, before the word had gotten to the outliers. She strode through the narrow space made
for her with purpose, coming to a stop before Harry as the gap closed around her with an
appraising look. Then she turned to look over Hermione, Ron, gave a stern but grateful nod
to Arthur and Molly, then looked to Susan. There, her gaze, steely and eagle-eyed, softened a
bit, before she nodded to her niece, too.

"Potter. I said it before, but it bears repeating. You did damned good work here, keeping these
people focused and fighting, or helping the wounded until we got here. Damned fine work."

"Er, thanks," Harry murmured quietly, "but all I did was-"

"All you did was give them direction. That's what a leader does," Amelia said sternly, her
sharp eyes boring into his, "Susan's already told me about it. You didn't hesitate once you
figured out the threat. Picked your targets well, directed those around you. Changed focus as
needed, too. That's work most Aurors that've been in the field for ten years can't manage in a
firefight. Moody's impressed, too."

"Wow," several of the students gasped, a sentiment that even Harry echoed.

"And you lot," she turned her head to look around, swiveling to take in most of the crowd,
which was about half of the active D.A., "You lot did pretty well for yourselves, too. A lot of
wizards and witches cut and ran today. It might've been foolish to stay, put yourselves at risk,
but you did it to save others. That's important. That's the only way we're going to win this
fucking war. Standing up for each other, and for what's right. You've got each other, and that's
worth fighting for, too. Keep it up, and I don't doubt we'll have a huge class of Aurors in a
few years, if that's what you lot want."

Excited whispering broke through Harry's attention, but he found his own desire for that path
continuing to wane. Already, he was sick of violence and death. Even now it made him want
to retch; the stench of blood, feces, and the knowledge that even the once-noble alpha dragon
he leaned against was a wasted death too? It was too much.

He could only stand there and listen as she continued to talk up the crowd of students a few
moments longer, then turned back to him with another glance at Lilith. "Dumbledore told me
at the start of the year we'd have another so-called 'dark creature' at the Castle. Didn't expect
it to be a Succubus. Contracted, too, by the look of Potter's fireballs."

"For a while, yes," Harry told her, not bothering to hide it. He doubted he could successfully
lie to Madam Bones anyway, if he'd wanted to.

"Good."

That was not the response he expected.

"My brother had a Succubus," she told them, not bothering to lower her voice, "before he
died. Not Susan's father, our other brother, Samuel. Happiest days of his life. Enjoy them,
Potter, while they last. If I'm right about your Contract, it can't come soon enough."

Harry couldn't help but crack a grin at her almost-rueful smile and wistful look, as private
details of the history of one of wizarding Britain's most influential and powerful witches
became public knowledge without a care.

"But now Voldemort will know about you," she said to Lilith, "Best be on your guard. He
might even steal the tactic. He's not above doing that."

"Which is why we tried to keep it secret," the Succubus said softly, "but in a situation like
this, I felt there wasn't much choice."

"Then you made the right call. Just be careful, as I said. As I understand it, Potter's had a
tough go of things up 'till you came along. Stick around until he's gone, if you don't mind. We
could use the help."

"I aim to," Lilith agreed with a respectful nod, then reached out to take Harry's hand. "I wish
I could stay longer."

Amelia gave their joined hands, the Succubus a bit taller than Harry still, a poignant look.
"Understood. Alright, I've got to get back to work. The rest of the dragon was in the castle at
Heathbridge, by the way, the one the Muggles don't know about. Poor thing looked tortured."

Harry nodded. Not too many would likely put it together, and Harry gently patted the now-
deceased dragon's snout, in the vain hope it would help others to remember that just because
it was a dragon, it was not necessarily evil. They were simply trying to exist, for the most
part, the best way they knew how. Like himself, like all of them.

"Ma'am, thanks for- for showing up. We were struggling."

To his shock, Amelia snapped off a crisp salute of her own, quite sincerely if he had a read on
her, which raised more than a few eyebrows. "Didn't seem all that bad to me, Potter, but we
are glad to have made it. This is still our job, we aren't ready for your generation to take over
quite yet. Your injured should get to St. Mungo's. They're packed of course, but doing what
they can as fast as possible. They're getting pretty good at taking care of those big influxes
lately, unfortunately. Still not as bad as last time."

Harry nodded, knowing she was referring to the last time Voldemort had risen. "That's some
good news. Thanks again, Madam Bones."

"Thank you, Potter, and the rest of your friends. You saved a lot of lives by fighting back.
You're all fuckin' heroes in my book, every last one of yah."

Then she was gone, a storm of activity whirling around her stern but determined face, back
through the students and toward her Auror command team once again.

Harry sighed, closed his eyes in exhaustion as a wave of it struck him now that the moment
was calming, and opened them again to find what felt like a hundred eyes boring into him.
"What? You heard the woman," he said quietly, "I'm proud of you, all of you. But get your
wounded asses to treatment. The hospital if it's severe, or home if not, wherever you can go.
If you're unhurt, go home. Talk to your family and friends. Don't blame yourself for any of
this shit. This is all on Voldemort and his flunkies. And it's the last fucking time. He's not
getting away with it again."

"Harry," Hermione said quietly, catching his other hand, "Most of them can't leave. There's
no Floo, and they, we're, all too young to Apparate, even if we know how."

"Fuck," Harry groaned, turning his head to the still snow-laden clouds, even if it had begun to
taper down now.

"We'll help," Arthur volunteered, "We've got Ron patched up a bit. Molly, you can take him
home, get him settled, then come and help us Apparate people home, right?"

"I'm with you, Arthur," Sirius said over the crowd, an arm around the waist of a much older,
vulture-hatted witch that Neville sighed to see. "Let me get Madam Longbottom home, and-"

"I'm perfectly capable of apparating myself now that the ward's gone, you lout," the aged
witch grumbled loudly, "Let me get my grandson and we'll go, already!"

There was a clack, a sharp cry of pain from his godfather, whose head vanished behind the
students with a whimper. A few seconds later, the hunched but imposing form of Neville's
grandmother made its way through the crowd, which parted easily for her as it had not for
even Amelia Bones.

"I'm staying to help, Gran," Neville told her quietly, his hand twisting with Hannah's.

She gave him an appraising look in turn, glanced at the blood-stained blonde to his right, and
then nodded, "I guess I'm staying too, then. Not letting you out of my sight today, young
man, but... I'm proud of you. Come on, then, let's find more wounded."

Harry watched Neville's eyes widen in surprise, but not as much as his mouth did. It hung
open for several seconds as the dowager Longbottom turned from the teenagers and, wand
still in hand, started moving back into the mess of the platform. "Did I just hear that, Harry?"
Neville asked, voice almost inaudible with the surrounding noise and cries of pain or alarm.

"If you didn't, I can repeat it," Harry told him seriously, "because I'm proud of you, too.
You're a truly great wizard, Neville."

The shy boy might have turned scarlet, but Hannah was beaming at Harry as she tugged him
away, leading her boyfriend after the woman who was likely to be her grandmother in a
couple more years.

Over the next three hours, the Weasley parents, Sirius, Remus Lupin, who had arrived too
late to do more and felt terrible for it, and several other Order members arrived to Apparate
the students in groups of one or two home, or, in the case of too many, to friends or
neighbor's homes. Not a small number had lost their parents, yet lived on.

More orphans created by Voldemort's insanity.

More tallies on the board, as far as Harry was concerned. More reasons to bring the fucker
down.

The volunteer operation lasted until well into the dark hours, when Sirius wrapped his arms
through Harry's, pulled him into a hug, and whispered, "To the Burrow for tonight."

"No," Harry grunted, yanking himself free, "There's more to-"

"You're flagged out, Harry," his godfather said quietly, "It's time to rest. You've done enough.
Look around you, only the Aurors are left."

Torches and magical lights floated through the air around them by the score, leaving Platform
9 3/4 well-lit, but darker than he had ever seen it before. An exhausted, worn Arthur Weasley
and Remus Lupin stood nearby, flanking Hermione and Katie Bell, the last two students he
could see. All around them, though keeping a respectful distance, swarmed thirty or more
Aurors, and a few other wizards and witches beyond them who worked to clean away the
rubble and ruin of the short battle.

They were it, then.

Maybe it was time to go.

At least, he could find nothing else that needed doing.

Maybe it was time to rest.

"My parents were picking me up from the Burrow anyway," Hermione said quietly,
"tomorrow. They were in Exeter for a conference, you see. We can go, Harry."

"Alright. I... the Burrow. There's no Floo." That seemed important, somehow. "Can't
Apparate."

"No, but I can, pup," Sirius said, sounding as tired as he felt.

"No," Lilith spoke up for the first time in over an hour, and pushed herself to her feet behind
Harry, snaking her arm through his and wrapping her tail around his left leg while her
opposite wing curled around his back. "I'll take him there. No offense, Dogfather, but you're
as tired as he is. I can't risk you splanking him."

"Splinching," Harry slurred, then giggled almost hysterically.

"Yes, that," Lilith replied, "Go on. We'll see you there. Probably beat you there."

Hermione nodded toward the Succubus, then rested a hand on the obviously very worn out
Sirius' arm. "Come on, perhaps Professor Lupin can take you. I don't want you getting hurt,
either."

"Moony's shite at apparition," Sirius grumbled, but held out a hand to his oldest living friend
anyway, "But I am a bit knackered. You good, mate?"

"Better than you," Remus said quietly, pulling his friend into a hug instead, then reaching out
a hand for Hermione.

She shook her head, threading her arm through Arthur Weasley's tired, even exhausted, arm
instead. "I think I'm good enough to help Mr. Weasley, and I'm not too tired."

"Alright, love," Sirius murmured. Remus in turn only gave her a trusting nod, then looked to
Harry.

"See you in a moment, kiddo."

Then they were gone, the latest in a long line of pops. Arthur looked at Lilith once, then
down at Hermione, who had squeezed his own arm reassuringly, and spun on the spot for
what felt like the thousandth time in the last few hours.

Once they were all gone, Lilith pulled Harry into an even tighter hug, this time encircling him
with tail, both arms, and both wings, leaned down to kiss him, and then stepped into the
realm between their worlds.

Again, there was the soul-crushing emptiness and cold. It incongruously felt like less time
then the much shorter jaunt he had experienced in the Department of Mysteries last year, but
Lilith unfolded herself from him in the crisp, dry air of Ottery St. Catchpole, just outside the
porch.

"Intruder!" a voice cried out, "Someone's gotten inside the wards!"

"It's me," Harry shouted loudly, not daring to step onto the porch itself. He knew the voice,
though they'd only met briefly.

Charlie Weasley.

The stockiest of the family opened the door warily, a wand pointed at his head almost at once.
"What'd-, uh, what did the twins offer to bring back for Ginny in, um, your first year?"
"It's fuckin' him, you idiot," George's, or maybe Fred's, voice shouted from the kitchen a
ways behind him, "if he's got that hottie with him!"

From further away, the distant cracks of Apparition had been muffled by Charlie's first shout,
but the thick man scowled as he felt more intruders out at the edges of the wards. Some of
them he knew, some he did not, but the magics that yielded some authority to him were
stripped by the presence of his father, who yet retained the ultimate control of the household's
defenses. Slowly, Charlie relaxed, lowering his wand. "Alright, alright, Potter, and uh, M-
Ms? You can't blame me for bein' careful after the fuckery that happened tonight."

"No," Lilith said almost cheerfully, "it's deserved and understood, right, Master? Oh. He's
asleep. Huh."

Harry did not hear any more of the conversation.

He didn't hear much of anything until he woke, a full thirteen hours later.

For the first time in several months, Harry woke up truly slowly, over the course of perhaps
an hour. There was not the usual pressure on his cock, no slurping, no moisture, and not even
any morning wood, though someone had undressed him, for the young wizard felt the same
soft, comfortable material both above and below, every which way he moved. Eventually, as
he opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room, he realized the birds chirping outside were not the
only sounds. Below, distant chatter of several voices was audible but muted, and more
conversation was happening below the window.

The room was... almost familiar, as if he'd seen it before but never like this, or from this
angle, but the furnishings were mostly new to him. Harry sat up, throwing the checkered
black and blue bedspread and sheets off of himself and sliding to sit on the bed. Feet
clambered up a staircase just outside the door, but no one disturbed him, and about thirty
seconds later what sounded like the same person dashed back down, skipping several of the
wooden stairs.

He looked around passively for more than a few minutes, taking in his own school trunk, the
only truly recognizable item in the room, which sat at the foot of the bed he occupied, and
another bed in the corner to his right, covered in the same bedspread pattern but with eggshell
blue and silver colors instead. Another trunk, fancier and more ornate, sat at its foot, just a
meter or so from his own. Between them was a tall window with old, somewhat bubbly glass
panes, out of which he could see even at this angle a clear blue sky with a few high, wispy
clouds. There were a pair of dressers too, which were worn and used but in good condition, a
long desk with two chairs, a large mirror on the other side, and a collection of makeup along
with a small jewelry box, open to display a few earrings and bracelets, organized neatly on
that half as well.

Slowly, hesitantly even, Harry reached down for his glasses, not that he had needed them
really since gaining the ability to alter his body at will, and slipped them onto his head from
the bedside table. His familiar holly and phoenix-feather wand was there too, though it
appeared someone had wiped off the blood from the battle, for it was clean and even oiled.
He did not know what to think. There was no sense of danger, which the frustration and pain
the last time he was awake told Harry to expect. In fact, even though he could not identify the
room, the place felt positively safe. The voices downstairs were several, but they were not
shouting or fighting, or speaking with the aloof, cold tones he mentally associated with Death
Eaters. Oh... The Burrow. I remember Lilith bringing us there, and... Charlie? Then... what
happened? I must've passed out. Good job, Potter, show everyone you can't handle shite
again.

Despite his mental self-recrimination, Harry did not feel embarrassed, or ashamed. He didn't
even feel much about the battle that replayed itself in his mind, for what felt like the
thousandth time. Every detail, every death on both sides was fresh, and especially the ones he
had caused himself.

Yet Harry felt no emotional connection to it at all, as if someone had stripped that from him.

Not sure if I should be mad, or grateful, he thought to himself, then stood up, scratched an
itch on his ball-sack, and turned toward the window after smelling his armpit briefly. Ugh.
Definitely need a shower, I still smell like ash, fire, and blood, but with several hours-old
sweat on top of it. Even Lilith would probably be turned off.

Even thinking of the Succubus did not produce much in the way of emotion. No lust, nor
affection, worry, or anything much at all, only a vague hint of closeness, though for once he
could not pinpoint her direction or distance.

Outside the window, Harry finally saw something that told him exactly where he was, not
that he was unsure anyway now. The familiar orchard, over which a few people flew on the
Weasley's borrowed brooms, though they didn't seem to be playing Quidditch, and were too
far away to identify except for Ginny, whose hair shone in the afternoon sunlight like a
beacon of flame. Below, the voices he had heard through the window were gathered around a
pair of long tables a dozen or so feet from the house, with a cluster of students helping set
places for a meal. More than thirty of them, by Harry's estimation, given the places out
already and the closeness they had.

He didn't feel hungry either, he realized, but some part of his brain told him that he needed to
drink, and eat too, before long. But the shower and a trip to the loo would have to be first.

He would face the Weasleys and, he suspected, everyone else that had no more home to go
back to when he was ready to. Fortunately, he was able to gather clothes, slipping into his
pyjama bottoms without bothering with underpants, and make it down the single flight of
stairs he recognized easily into the Weasley's lower bathroom, the closest to his loaned room,
without being seen. Or was it a loaned room? The decor suited him, he thought, without
being so ostentatiously Gryffindor as he suspected most of his friends would think he wanted.
He loved the colors of his House, of course, but did not swear by them. Hufflepuff's black
and yellow looked great together, as did Ravenclaw's and Slytherin's colors. In fact, if he had
to pick a pair, it was the Eagle's which he liked to look at the most, and the Serpent's the next.

His shower was long, the water piping hot as always, and more relaxing than he would have
cared to admit. Harry was even lucky enough, after relieving his too-full bladder a second
time, to return to the room without spotting anyone who had noticed him, and get mostly
dressed before the door opened without knocking.

He turned to give them a look while straightening the plain white t-shirt he had selected, and
felt his first true emotion since waking at who was stepping into the room, watching him
casually, and shutting the door behind her.

"F- Fleur?"

His last memories of her from the summer were ravaging her senseless several times, being
caught out by Bill doing so, and then having her break off her engagement with the older
wizard due to Harry apparently proving himself 'the one' by matching her Succubus-enhanced
sexual appetites. While he had enjoyed the sex immensely, he had not expected to see her
again. Ever, in fact.

"'Ello, 'Arry," she said warmly, stepping into the room and pulling him into a firm embrace.
He was as tall as her now, he noted, maybe even a little taller, which pressed her chest against
his own rather nicely. But again, he barely felt lust or arousal swell within him at all, along
with a commensurate, very faint feeling of friendship and affection.

"Not that I mind," he said after she separated and stepped past him, "But what are you doing
in here? Or, you know, here?"

She didn't look his way, instead stepping past him into the space between the two trunks, then
crouched to lift the lid of the eggshell-blue one, slid a few things around, and then stood with
a small book, a muggle novel by the look of it, in one hand. "Eet eez my room too, 'Arry," she
replied easily, "And az for why I am at zee Burrow? Mrs. Weezley azked me to come back.
Your... Your paszionate friend, I theenk, is the one who azked that of 'er. You will 'ave to azk
her ze full story, I am afraid. Eet iz good to see you awake, zough."

Then she was gone, her gorgeous hips and arse swaying in her very white capris-length jeans
as she strode quickly from the room.

"Well, fuck," Harry whispered, another faint emotion returning: anxiety.

Mrs. Weasley had not been happy about Lilith's existence in the first place, and less so on
learning her children were involved with Harry and his, he imagined she would call it,
debauchery.

Which is a fair word, he acknowledged.

Nothing for it, though. I've showered, peed. Drink and food are next.

All noise inside the house stopped as he reached the last few steps of the long, twisting
staircase, and was spotted.

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley's motherly tone was the first to speak, and she bustled across the
Burrow's busy kitchen, throwing her apron over the back of a chair before pulling him into a
very tight hug. Over her shoulder, taller now, he could easily see Ron, who looked exhausted
as well, speaking to Hermione. Or he had been, because both, like everyone else he could see,
was watching him carefully, as if he might explode.

Only Lyra, seated in Mr. Weasley's favorite armchair and knitting, of all things, didn't give
him more than a few seconds' look, though hers was filled with a warm smile a lot like
Fleur's had been.

"Bit peaky," Mrs. Weasley said as she backed away, her hands on his shoulders, and gave him
a little shake, "I... come on, no work for you today. Are you lot about set up?"

She left him alone as her attention was drawn to a half-dozen other students, some he knew
well, like Katie Bell and Demelza Robbins, the other new Chaser this year, but most of them
he knew only by sight. Their attention, in turn, was swiftly stolen back by the matriarch of
the house, who had them carting out great platters of food and pitchers of drink to fill the
tables outside. This must be costing them a fortune, Harry realized, if they're feeding
everyone. I've got to help.

There weren't that many adults around, he realized with a quick glance around again, only
Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Fleur, and Charlie were visible, the currently pink- and purple-striped
haired Auror helping to direct the placement of foodstuffs on the tables outside, while Mrs.
Weasley put the last finishing touches on a couple of other items.

Harry did not know what to do, who to talk to. For a moment, he debated simply going back
upstairs and climbing into the bed once more, since someone had clearly told everyone to
leave him alone, not pester him with questions.

Or perhaps, he realized, they knew exactly what was going through his mind.

This time, he was far from the only one to live through the trauma.

Even the battle at the Department of Mysteries, while dozens of students had been involved,
had not been anything like this. Almost the entire student body of Hogwarts had been put in
danger by this attack, and none of them had likely gotten away unscathed. Even those who
had left the platform and station before the explosion had lost people they knew, he was
certain of it.

He wanted to ask, of anyone who was nearby, how many the death toll stood at, but as the
conversation slowly picked back up, he realized that now was not the time. It was too soon,
everyone, like himself, was still trying to process it all, to come to grips with the tragedy of it.

So he sighed, stepped into the living room, wound his way through several other people,
many of whom were chatting about House-Elf rights of all things while sitting on the floor,
and took up a place at Lyra's feet, leaning back against her legs.

A moment later, her soft hand ruffled through his hair, "Good to see you, Master."

"To right," Ron added from a few spots away, turning from his conversation with Hermione
and, he could now see, the boy he had seen watching Ginny and himself have sex in the
common room just a few days before. And Ron even seemed interested, now that she wasn't
talking about S.P.E.W., while the boy seemed utterly engrossed, asking several questions as
the chatter wound on.

A few minutes later, all of them were called out to the back yard by Mrs. Weasley, who
pulled Harry aside and out of the press of people as he passed through the kitchen. She
waited, thankfully, until everyone had gone before asking in a quiet voice, "If you aren't
ready, Harry... no one will think less of you if you want to eat in here."

It was a kind offer, and he knew it, but as Harry looked out the open back door to the
darkening sky and the people who sat in view, most looking inside at him expectantly, he
shook his head with a wane smile. "No... I'm actually doing alright, I think. No guilty
feelings. I want to be with my friends. But before we go... are you and Arthur paying for this?
Are all these people staying here?"

Mrs. Weasley blushed, and looked down, "It's just been the one night, but... a lot of them
don't have family left to go to, anymore, and one boy, the one talking to Hermione and Ron
when I came in? His parents are... well, let's just say the kind of people that hate our family.
A lot like the Malfoys."

"But he's a Gryffindor," Harry protested, genuinely surprised.

"That may be, but the Selwyns are a pure-blood family with a great many ties to the Death
Eaters," Molly answered quietly, "I understand Marcus got a lot of guff for being sorted into
our House. Bit of a black sheep, I think."

Understanding swelled within Harry, "Like Sirius."

"I think, yes," Molly answered, "So, Harry, in or out?"

"Out," he told her, "I'm fine... being around people. I can't explain it, but this time..."

"I think I understand," she replied back softly. "When my brothers were killed, my friends...
they didn't understand. But as more and more were lost in the last war, they slowly... well...
that gulf between us closed. It's tragic, but there you are."

Harry nodded. He had not expected that level of understanding from Molly Weasley, who
seemed most often like a devoted mother and housewife. It was easy to forget she had lived
through a war herself, one where she had lost her twin brothers. He pulled her into a hug
himself, the first time he could remember doing so, and while she was in his grip, he
whispered into her thick, graying but still mostly-red hair, "I love you, all of you. Let me
help. I'll cover the food, help with lodging, anything I can do."

"Sirius said you would," she hiccupped, "but I don't know if we can-"

"Molly," he interrupted, pushing back to look her in the eyes. Ginny, he realized, very much
had her eyes, though the girl's mother was a lot older and her eyes more world-weary. "Your
family is my family. You've said as much yourself. There isn't charity here, not between us.
You've taken it on yourselves, you and Arthur, to house orphans, to feed a huge group of
people. I know you struggle. Let me help, please. I have no one else to spend my money on."
"Not yet," Mrs. Weasley hiccupped as tears welled in her eyes. But Harry thought, for once,
that they were happy tears. "Alright, alright, Harry. We can discuss it later, but I'll agree for
now unless Arthur puts his foot down. But we're doing a lot better, now that he's been
promoted and most of our children are grown, you know."

"I believe it," he told her honestly, "but I remember how you have treated me and Hermione
for five summers, without asking for a thing. It didn't go unnoticed, and you are my family,
as much as Sirius is. At least, if... if you still want me, after..."

Molly sniffled, grabbed at her nearby apron that still hung from the back of a chair, and
dabbed at her eyes, then beamed up at him, "Harry, your new friend is... a delightful young
woman. I understand things.. are different, and it's not what I'd have chosen, but I've learned
in my years that things have a way of working out. If you brought her here, it was for a
reason. I can see she cares for you, and not just... in that way. She cares for your friends, too,
and they, her. I've... I've even let her go up to Ron's room with him a few times, since... well,
the cat's out of the bag, there, isn't it?"

Harry snorted with a grin, "Before our O.W.L.s, actually, yeah. Uh... is she...staying with
Ginny and Hermione?"

For a moment, Molly seemed confused as she asked, "Well, she did last night, wh- oh. Oh."
She blushed deeply, something Harry had rarely seen on the more mature woman, then shook
her head, "I shouldn't think about that. I don't want to know. It's fine. I- I hope you are all
happy. I mean that, Harry. That's all I've ever wanted for my babies, and that includes the
two- I suppose I may as well say three, now- that I didn't give birth to. That's you and
Hermione, and Lyra, if you weren't sure."

Harry chuckled and reached out to pull her into another hug, "I figured. Come on, let's eat.
I'm starved."

"Oh! I totally forgot, come on, you must be so hungry!"

Most had not waited for them to chat, for which Harry was grateful, as the meal was in full
swing as he and Molly stepped out, her leading the way. To his surprise, the moment he
cleared the door into the darkening back yard, every single person there rose and turned, if
they were looking the other way, to face him. Then, as one, they started to clap.

He felt himself flush. Of course embarrassment was the first emotion he would feel at full
strength since waking up. What else would it have been, happiness? Joy? Not in his life.

With a shaky smile, Harry shook his head, then clapped himself, vigorously, as his eyes
swept the table, meeting every single attendee's gaze for a moment. As he did so, he tried to
convey the respect, admiration, and love he had for each of them in turn, but wasn't sure he
had pulled off the effect when Ron shouted, "Alright, that's enough, you lot! Let the man eat,
he missed dinner, breakfast, and lunch!"

All along both sides of the long table, Harry suspected people were eager to slide aside and
make room, but there was only one space already cleared, between Lyra and Fleur. The
moment he sat, chatter resumed, animated and excited. Some, he was surprised to overhear,
were even discussing details of the battle that had happened what he guessed was about a day
ago now, but most were talking about more mundane things like school, the Quidditch
League, or other more 'normal' topics.

Across from him, Tonks gave a wink, then turned to Molly and asked her when Arthur and
Remus were expected back. Harry didn't catch the answer though, as Lyra's comforting hand
moved to his thigh, at the exact same time Fleur's left hand moved to the small of his back.
"Er..."

"Later, Harry," the Succubus said quietly, "Fleur and I have a temporary understanding, but
we'll talk more about it later. There's time. She isn't staying here for long, though, and I
shouldn't, either."

"Which means I can't, but that's... alright, I suppose," Harry murmured. "I have a place with
Sirius."

"That," Lyra acknowledged, "but before long I will have a surprise for you. Likely shortly
after the new year. For now, just eat, drink. I know you're famished."

He nodded, giving her a grateful look, and dug in.

It took more than an hour before he was satisfied, and he'd even out-eaten Ron, something
that had made Charlie Weasley laugh, clapping Harry on the back as he passed, on the way to
'stand watch' as he had been the night before.

Too soon, most of the group around the tables began to filter off in groups of two or three or
four, and the only light filling the yard as clouds began to pick up for another late-night
snowfall, were the single gas lamp the Weasleys had above the rear door, and the much
warmer, brighter light spilling through many of the lit windows in the crooked house.

But Fleur and Lyra stayed with him, both nursing drinks, even after the chilly air came along
with true darkness as it fell over the British Isles. Eventually, it was too much for even him,
so Harry sighed, picked up his plate, the last on the table, and stood, with both girls following
him, like they were escorting him. "I'm not going to have a breakdown, you know," he
informed the pair as he stepped into the kitchen to find the dishes washing themselves
eagerly under the direction of Molly, who also spun her wand at her large clothing mangle,
which was wringing out a large sheet. "Thanks, Molly," he told her earnestly, "It was
amazing, as always."

"Thank you, dear," she said with a pleased smile, "Go on, talk to your friends. We can finish
that conversation tomorrow. I expect Sirius will want you to go to his place around noon, he
gave us a Floo about ten minutes ago, but doesn't have your room clean, yet."

"A- Ah. Okay. Are you sure you don't need help?"

The matriarch shook her head, seeming almost happy to be doing so much, "No, dear, thank
you. Believe it or not, Ginny's been loads of help all night and day, that's why I told her she
could go for a fly instead of help with dinner, and of course Hermione is always a dear. Go
on, your friends are waiting, in Ron's room, I think."
Harry leaned in to give her a quick side-hug anyway, waved to the several dozen students in
the living room who were listening raptly to a news report about the attack the previous night
on the Wireless, and headed upstairs.

"We'll be in your room," Lyra told him from behind as they reached the second landing,
between Ginny's room and the lower bathroom, "But take your time, Master."

He looked back, feeling oddly concerned, but Fleur only waved him on, so he shrugged,
"Alright. I'm... not walking into a hornet's nest, am I?"

"No," Lyra giggled, "Go on, they just want to talk, as do we. I'll need a feeding very soon,
though, Probably several. One tonight, but the rest can wait until we get to your Dogfather's.
I'm very tapped out, even maintaining this form all day is almost too much, and I mastered
shapeshifting decades ago by your counting."

"R- Right. Do you, uh, want to get that out of the way now?"

"Yes, of course," Lyra giggled again, actually pushing him toward the upper stairs, "but go
talk to your friends, dummy."

"I would do az zhe says, 'Arry," Fleur added with a strange, amused smile, "Zhe is quite
perzuazive."

"Alright, alright," he chuckled, then turned around and continued up.

Ron's room was the highest bedroom in the Burrow, and only the Ghoul's room in the attic, if
it could actually be called a room, stood higher, accessed by a pull-stair in the roof of the
landing. For a moment, as always on his first visit each summer, Harry felt a rush of vertigo
as he realized that, due to the home's uniquely magical construction, even on the landing
facing the door he was beyond the lowest walls of the house, standing over bare grass or even
lilac bushes that lined that side of the home. But he shook it off easily, knocked once, and
stepped in without waiting.

It wasn't like he cared if they were starkers, after all.

But while Ron was resting on his bed with Hermione laying across his lap sideways, her feet
on the floor, neither were undressed. Ginny was actually wearing the least, her tank-top and
shorts that she had been flying in despite the cold winter, showing a little side-boob and even
a bit of cleavage. She was still small in the breast department, but still growing, at least a
little. And honestly, Harry preferred that to Mrs. Weasley's mammoth chest, not that Ginny
had her mother's build in most ways, aside from height and her eyes.

"Hey," he murmured, shutting the door behind him and crossing over to his cot, which was
not dusty and even appeared used recently, currently occupied by Ginny. She scooted over for
him, and twined her smaller, slender hands in his as he did.

"How you holding up?" Ron asked quietly, one arm over his eyes to shield them from the
bright light overhead.
"Emotionless, mostly," Harry admitted, "Like... like someone's taken everything I should be
feeling, except embarrassment apparently, and turned it from 'one hundred' to three or four.
Maybe even less."

"That'd be Lyra," Hermione supplied, giving him a concerned look, "She said she was doing
something to help you cope, but didn't elaborate even when I asked. I'm not sure how she
would, but... that's not normal. I hope it's safe. Many people feel numb after something like
that, but..."

Harry shook his head, "I trust her. It's fine. I'll... deal with it when I can. I'm not... how I was
even last year, you all know that. I don't think that attack was my fucking fault, for one thing.
I know it was Voldemort's."

"Good, because that's true," Ginny said quietly, seriously, "but you can't blame us for
worrying. We've... we've all been through a lot. Ron and Hermione more, because you're daft
and didn't realize how amazing I am until last year, but this..."

Harry grinned at his girlfriend's bravado (true though her statement had been), and leaned
over to kiss her cheek. "Look, I'm serious. I'll process. I think that's what Lyra's trying to do.
Give me a little at a time, so I can handle it easier, but... I'm not worried about me. I'm
worried about you. How are you guys doing?"

"Oh, no," Ginny murmured, "This is about you."

"I'm fine," Harry chuckled, "and I actually mean it. I'm not feeling anything strongly right
now, not a thing really, but what I do feel is... anger, directed at Voldemort and the cowardly
fucks who attacked a crowd of innocent people and children. I don't feel guilty, I don't think it
was my fault. I just want to hunt them down and destroy the fuckers."

"The Order's working on that, according to Tonks," Hermione said, "Moody came in late last
night and told her, and I overheard since I was... well, up drinking tea. Couldn't sleep. And
don't give me that look, Harry Potter. I promise I won't nag you about it for a month, just...
just stop. I know. Let me get back to the point."

He shrugged, choosing not to press the issue for now. She was a big girl, and had suffered
through his nightmares too, if indirectly. Now, even more than after the Ministry, he knew
she, all of them, would have more.

He hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he forced the matter from his mind,
except as a reminder to check on their well-being, to watch for sleepless nights. He had
learned a few tricks to help with that, after all.

"The... the Stamina Runes are helping, too," Hermione added quietly, then turned her
attention back to what she'd been talking about. "Anyway, they found a few clues in the old
basement where they were trying to force the dragon through the Floo. The keep was an old
Wizard's home, back from the second century from what I understand, and they had
connected the Floo through a contact inside the Ministry the day before. That person's under
arrest, of course, but apparently didn't suspect anything was wrong or suspicious about it.
Maybe they were under the Imperius. Anyway, those clues lead them to a few safehouses for
the Death Eaters, but only a few arrests, and nothing concrete that suggests they even knew
about the attack."

"What about that Giant?"

Ron answered that one, still with his hand over his head, "Took about five hours to track
down. Deaths are being blamed on a trio of mad terripists who had Arpeegees or something."

"Terrorists, and RPG's," Hermione told Harry, who had given her a confused look, "Rocket-
propelled grenades. Think rocket launchers in movies, though they aren't really the same,
from what I've read."

"Ah."

Ginny still looked a bit confused, but didn't ask for more details.

"So covered up, and no one but wizard-kind know the truth."

"Basically," Hermione admitted, sounding quite an annoyed by that as Harry felt.

"Okay, that's the news," he said after a few seconds, "but how are you doing? Hermione said
she didn't sleep last night, or at least well."

No one answered for a while, until the bushy-haired witch raised up from her boyfriend's lap
to lean over her own knees, "I... I'm alright, I think. Terrible, but alright. All those... those
people. Children. The blood... even the Giants didn't have to die. Not- well, they didn't have
to attack us. I agree with your philosophy, Harry. Once they attacked, they had to be stopped,
by any means necessary. But before that..."

He nodded.

Eventually, Hermione shook her head, wiped her eyes, and then shifted to curl into Ron's
side, her hand on his chest. Ron, in turn, snaked a hand around her shoulders and pulled her
close, "But... no, I didn't sleep much. I tried for about two hours, but... every time I closed my
eyes, I saw them. The... the bodies, the giants, the train... both fucking times," she sobbed,
"Seamus... So many more."

"There, there," Ron said a bit lamely, his hand now rubbing small circles on the girl's shaking
back, "I know. It's shite, the ugliest, smelliest kind. 'S why we have to stop 'em as soon as we
can. And as for your question, Harry...

"Like Hermione, I'm surviving. One fucking day at a time, I suppose. I'm angry, so angry,
like I bet you'd be without Lilith helping, but I haven't... got a way to let that go. I blew up a
few trees this morning, before Ginny came out and we chatted a bit."

"Mum's going to be pissed when she sees the stumps," Ginny giggled, but it sounded almost
hysterical, even if it wasn't loud. "I want to be there, I want to see it."

"Show her, then," Ron muttered.

Ginny leaned into Harry's side, "Nah. You... how's your side, Ron?"

"Fuck," Harry gasped, bolting almost upright, before Ginny yanked him back down, hard, "I
forgot!"

"'S alright," the taller boy grunted, his free hand reflexively coming up to cover the spot
where there had been so much blood around a hole in his clothes, "that piece of steel went
right through, I reckon, and the Healer that treated me there said it'd be alright in a day or
two. I just have to keep putting Murtlap on it every few hours, and change the bandage when
I do. Tomorrow it's only twice a day, do that for a week, and Bob's your uncle."

"That phrase never made sense to me," Harry groaned, "and hearing it from you makes it
worse."

The three others chuckled, but no one offered an explanation of the old phrase. After a few
seconds, Ginny sighed, "I missed you, Harry. I didn't sleep much either, until Lyra came in
and... well, helped me out. Then she did something with her hand on my head, and I was out
all night."

"I should've stayed there, then," Hermione muttered, "Instead of sneaking up here."

"Nah," Ron chuckled, "I was pretty pent up, I needed that blow-job, Hermione."

"Maybe, you prat, but I would've gotten some sleep."

"Sleep tonight. Lyra won't say no. But I don't know what I'm going to do until after
Christmas, without... well, someone to be with."

No one said anything for a little while, until after Harry noticed Ginny giving him a curious
look. He cocked his head, and she jerked hers toward the other bed in response. Then the red-
head rolled her eyes with a mischievous smile growing on her face and asked quietly, "Well,
Ron, if you want somebody to blow you to help you sleep, you only have to ask. But I'll
expect payment before-hand."

Harry could not help but grin, and watch as his friend lurched up onto one elbow, wincing as
his hand went to his pained side again, which did not stop him from staring at his sister.
"You... you mean it? Er, I mean.. that's, uh... well, if... if you don't mind, I mean..."

"Fucking teenagers," Hermione groaned against him, "Both Harry and I don't care, do we
have to go over this again?"

"It's- it's not that," Ron muttered, still watching his sister's face as he tried to explain, "It's
just, well... I mean... isn't it sort of... the thing you'd do for, I don't know, a special occasion,
or... just once in a while? A t- treat, or something?"

Harry watched as Ginny's face heated to match her brother's with growing glee, "Are you
saying, dear brother, that me sucking your cock is a special occasion?"

He turned nearly as maroon as his pyjamas, but nodded almost shyly.

"That's one of the sweetest things you've ever said to me. I think it's pretty special, too. But
there's no reason we can't have a special occasion more often. I... I think it's kind of hot," she
finished, her voice very quiet at the end.

"Gods," Hermione groaned, "Stop talking about it, Ron's too sore to shag, and I'm getting
horny, but I'm too tired to do much anyway."

Ginny's smile widened, "I'm up for doing it to both of you."

"And on that note, as much as I'd like to watch this play out," Harry told them, standing up
and willing his growing erection back down for the moment, "I did promise to have another
conversation. I'll talk to you lot tomorrow."

"Oi, it's still early," Ron protested, "And you've slept ages!"

"But if I start shagging," Harry reminded him, "I won't stop for hours. It's fine, you lot have
fun."

The last thing he heard before the door closed was Hermione telling Ginny, "Fine, fine, but
we should probably wait until most people are in bed, and when you do, give it to Ron first. I
want you to smear his stuff all over my pussy, you filthy slut."

He moved down the several flights of stairs with a growing grin, feeling better than he had in
the few hours he'd been awake.

Harry passed the borrowed room first, though, heading down to the kitchen where Arthur was
now sitting at the table next to Molly, both nursing tea while the older man also had a large
plate of leftovers before him. "Oh, hello, Harry," he said, looking bone-weary. "Alright, son?"

"I am, I think," he said quietly, "You have any of that tea left? For me and Fleur?"

"Lyra doesn't want any?"

He shook his head at Molly's question, "She doesn't technically have to eat food or drink at
all, even if she can. I'll take a cup if there's enough for everyone, but I figured she wouldn't
mind giving it a pass."

"Well, she did enjoy it earlier," the witch told him as her wand flicked through the air,
sending a few saucers and cups clattering together in a line for the pot on the stove to pour
the steaming liquid in. "Go on up, dear, I'll send them behind you."

"Thanks," he said with a happy, tired smile.

Despite it only being around seven-thirty, the hubbub in the living room had mostly died
down, with several people crashed out on the furniture, and not a few sleeping in blankets or
worn sleeping bags Harry recognized from the Quidditch Cup. For a moment, he wondered
why they weren't sleeping in the tents themselves if the Weasleys still had the old things, but
then remembered. Winter. Probably uncomfortably cold. At least it's warm inside, even if it's
crowded.
As Mrs. Weasley had said, the saucers and teacups followed Harry in a wavering line up the
stairs, along with a small plate of biscuits.

Again, he rapped once on the door of what was once Bill and Charlie's room, and stepped
inside.
 A quiet conversation, to start
Chapter Summary

TW still for aftermath of a battle. Some smut. Talk of smut. Exhibitionism, you know
the drill by now.

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Chap. 64: A quiet conversation, to start

Fleur was at the desk-vanity, wiping away faint makeup with a small cloth that shimmered
with magic, while Lyr- no, Lilith, in child-form but with her clothes on for once, lounged on
his bed, which was now neatly made aside from her own wrinkles. Both looked up at him
expectantly, and smiled as he set down the tea beside Fleur, and offered a cup to Lilith, who
sat up quickly with a wide smile. "She makes good tea," the Succubus said happily before
taking a long sip.

"So," Harry said quietly, looking between the two most physically beautiful creatures he'd
ever met, "what was it you wanted to talk about?"

The smaller girl gave the taller a questioning look, then turned her attention back to Harry
with a warm smile, her tea held just below her chin so the steam that rose from it obscured
her face just a tiny bit. "Fleur is with us."
"I- I did not say zat," the quarter-Veela woman sputtered, "I only said zat I would be willing
to dizcuss it wiz 'Arry!"

Confused, he took a long draw of his own tea to buy himself time to think. Lilith's meaning
was pretty obvious, if he knew her at all (and he did). But the silver-blonde haired young
woman was a bit more of a mystery, and her intentions were less clear, especially after her
protest. What do I know about her, really, Harry wondered to himself, crossing the room to sit
on his bed next to the Succubus, and drinking a bit more of his tea. I know she's a great lay,
very eager and passionate, stunningly beautiful, but beyond that... nothing, really. Well, that
she's French, and good with magic. She wasn't a Triwizard Champion for nothing, and she
wants- or wanted- to work for Gringott's too. Beyond that...? I suppose I don't really know
anything. Oh, and that she was engaged to Bill, and that's apparently off.

"When you say 'with us,'" Harry asked diplomatically, "What exactly do you mean?"

While the question was directed at Lilith, his eyes stayed locked on Fleur, who continued to
remove her makeup but kept her eyes firmly locked on his reflection. The petite girl took
another sip, then set her half-full cup and saucer on the bedside table, reached for a biscuit,
and twisted it in her hands a few times while answering, "I mean she wants to join your
harem. Something about never having such powerful orgasms."

Again, the part-Veela protested, this time blushing mightily, "I did not say zat!"

"You didn't have to," Lilith pointed out, her tone reasonable, "it's all over your body language
and your aura both. Also, why are you protesting? We all know it's true, Harry remembers the
summer as well as you do."

Fleur twisted in her seat to glare at the smaller figure, but Harry didn't mind. After all, it
presented him a rather pleasing view of her profile before she huffed and turned back to the
mirror, and resumed her work. "I... well, yez, zat is true enough, but zere is more to it zan
zat."

"Oh, then by all means, enlighten us," Lilith teased, then shoved the whole biscuit into her
mouth and began chewing daintily despite being stuffed, and reached for her tea again.

Fleur huffed again, "I... I want to fight againzt your foe, 'Arry. 'E would... subjugate me, my
family. Eet eez obviouzh to all 'o watch zat you are ze one who will fight 'eem to ze end. I... I
wizh to pledge myzelf to you."

"Before you answer, Master," Lilith spoke up, "You should be aware that dear Miss Delacour
is not being entirely open about her motives, or what she's saying. I did a little digging since
you-I-we broke her last summer. A 'pledge' from her will mean subservience, loyalty, yes. It
also means ownership, fealty. She is trying to find a way to worm herself into your family
directly. I don't object, for the record, but before you decide you should know that."

One of Harry's eyebrows rose. Ownership of another sentient being? It was, of course, an
abhorrent idea. Yet he had two House-Elves, who both wanted to be in his service. If that was
what they wanted, who was he to deny them that free will, that choice? But could he do that
to Fleur Delacour, even if she was trying, in some small way, to trick him into it? "I don't get
you," he told the woman, who was finished wiping away her makeup, and was now applying
some sort of powder to her neck with a larger pad. "You love, or at least loved, Bill. I know
we shagged a bunch, and Lilith did something to you, but I don't know what that was, or why
it affected you so strongly. Now you come to me asking me to... what, take possession of you,
like an object? The Fleur I remember from the Triwizard was haughty, self-concerned,
intelligent, powerful, and not the type who would... submit. At leat, not so easily."

Apparently done with her face and neck, Fleur set the pad down and turned to face him,
crossing her legs demurely at the ankle and folding her hands together on her lap. "'Arry, I... I
do still love Beel. But I cannot be wiz 'im. Not anymore. Aftair what zhe did, 'e... 'e will
never be en'uff for me. Zere is a reason zat our kind, my kin, do not look upon... herz wiz
much affection."

Harry blinked, looking between the two women for more information. It was Fleur who gave
it to him, as she took a long, slow breath. "Ze Veela, like my mozzer and my grandmozzer,
are creaturez of paszion and sexuality, 'Arry. I am 'alf Veela, and am... not ze same, but cloze
enough. Your friend iz, ah, szimilair. Si- Similar," she clearly fought with the word's
pronunciation in English, "but more like oppozites. For us, paszion and love are born of the
heart, and move to ze body. For 'er, eet eez born of the body, and moves to ze heart."

"I think what she's trying to say, Master," Lilith picked up the explanation, "is that we are
functionally similar but very different in how we go about what we do, what we are. When I-
we used my powers on her in an effort to keep her or Bill Weasley from affecting our own
activities, I may have used... too much. Bill was a healthy young wizard, and nearly had a
heart attack trying to satisfy her in the throes of her magic driven wild by mine. The two
together nearly killed him, and he can't risk being with her again. Every time they try to be
intimate, it stands a cumulative, greater chance of doing just that."

"Zat is why I cannot be wiz 'im, even though I love 'im," Fleur said quietly.

Harry gaped. How- how was that even possible?

Lilith seemed to read his mind, for she set aside her now-empty cup and turned to face him a
little more directly, "Our magics, hers and mine, intertwined more closely than I expected
them to. I was going off your knowledge that she was a quarter Veela, and expected less of an
impact, emotionally, on Bill, or you. But it isn't your fault, you didn't know. It was an
assumption, we already talked about that."

"The 'air from my grandmozzer in my wand," Fleur clarified, gesturing to the long shaft on
the desk beside and behind her, "It was not an un- unreazonable aszumption, eizher. I would
'ave aszumed the saime."

Harry nodded, his mind abuzz with this new information, and what it meant for him.

"Zhere is more," Fleur added quietly, "I 'ave been wiz many men and women in my life szo
far, 'Arry. Eet eez in my nature. But only one man 'az ever truly satisfied me. I love Beel, but
I must be with you. I will go mad if I am not. And since I cannot be ze one to kill my love..."
Harry sighed. Her logic, though a bit convoluted, made perfect sense. It was cruel, even
somehow arbitrary, but given the position she found herself in, he suspected he would do the
same thing. But she had to know there was more. "You... you know, if you are with me..."

"Zat I will be wiz ze ozzers?"

He nodded.

Fleur only shrugged nonchalantly, "As I said, 'Arry, I 'ave 'ad many partnerz. I do not...
object. Beel knew I could not be faithful only to 'im, too."

"And... you don't mind that it's, well, with younger people, mostly?"

Fleur giggled, surprising Harry with the high, bell-like tinkle of it, "Non, 'Arry, not at all.
Beauty is beauty, and your friends are beautiful. I feel zeir passion sing to me, calling to me,
even now. It is as intoxicating as any ozzer's. But like your friend, if... if I am to be wiz you,
which I must insist on, zhen I will need... attentzion. Regular attenzion."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he frowned gently. "Er... just how regular are we talking?"

"Monthly? Eet eez 'ard to say. I 'ave survived this far, but ze need to be wiz you is growing
strongair. Proximity, you zee. If I become yourz, it will be... 'ardair. I will need more zhan I
am getting now, for szertain."

Harry nodded. That made sense, at least based on her explanation. "What do you think," he
asked the girl to his left.

Lilith shrugged, "Master has plenty of energy and love to give. I used my power on her in the
first place to get her on your side, this is just more deeply than I was planning on. Also, she's
smokin' hot."

Harry grinned, looking back to Fleur, who had the decency to blush. "One more question,
then. Why're your things in my room? Or why'm I in yours?"

Fleur smiled almost wistfully, "Zees was to be our room after getting married, you know?
Beel and I. When I went home to Maman and Papa., my seester, I left in haste, and most of
my zhings remained. Zhen, when I 'eard from your Molly zhat you had been attacked in
zhat... incident, I came quickly. I knew I 'ad to be by your side, 'Arry. Molly... she took one
look, szobbed, and zhen told me you were in my old room. Zhe knew."

"Knew what?"

"Zhat I belong to you, now. Eef you will 'ave me. Zhere is no ozzer."

She had said it so frankly, without guile, malice, or attempt to deceit, that Harry was almost
floored by the sincerity of it. Of course, the horny teenaged wizard in him wanted nothing
more than to scream yes, yes, yes to the rooftops even with the amount of action he'd been
getting recently, even with a real Succubus next to him. Who at Hogwarts hadn't wanted a
roll with Fleur two years before? He couldn't think of anyone. And he, Harry, had had sex
with her a dozen times in the later half of the last summer, and even more.
Now she was asking if he would accept her forever? Asking to be part of his family, and
make that a constant, on-going thing?

He would have to be a fool to decline!

But a part of him still doubted, still questioned her motives. "Lilith, is she honest?"

The reply was quick, as expected, "She cannot lie to you, Master, nor to me. The best she can
do is omit information, like earlier. Her magic is... it needs you now. Whatever we did
overwhelmed her so thoroughly I doubt she could remain sane for long without being with
you. I honestly don't know what happened, I'm still trying to figure it out, but the explanation
we gave is the best we have, working together on it so far. She should be resentful, most Veela
would hate what happened, having their will shattered like that, but it's almost like Romilda,
except she's used to it, in a way. She is conscious, self-aware, and wants the same anyway."

"So more like Romilda now, after she's recovered a bit?"

"I suppose that's a good equivalent, yes, Master."

He nodded at the silent response, then looked back to Fleur. "Alright. But I'm kind of
knackered tonight, so... wait. Lils, what happens if she gets, I don't know, Runes?"

"She won't need them," the Succubus said after a moment's thought, "but I'm not sure how
they would interact. My best guess right now is they would simply take less time to apply,
and less fluid. Her magic welcomes mine, now, almost like your... sister's does, as if it wants
to be part of me."

"Huh. Same effects, though?"

"I think that's how it would be, but I can't make promises," Lilith said a bit reluctantly, "We
just don't know enough. It's... peaceful existence between our peoples is rare, exceedingly so.
I've never heard of it. This is new territory."

"I zhink she is right, 'Arry," Fleur offered, "zhough I know leetle about 'er magic, ze way she
describes eet tells me zat is 'ow it should work wiz me, eef you want me to get zees Runes."

"Only if you want them, Fleur," Harry told her seriously.

"Non, if you want me to get them," Fleur exhaled, "You must decide zis, 'Arry, I cannot. If I
am to decide, zen ze decizion is made. I am... compromized, in zees way. My judgment eez
not what it szhould be."

"Now that, I am fully in agreement with," Lilith told him, "She can't make healthy judgments
based on facts when it comes to you, especially sex with you. It's almost like Bill in reverse.
Where he almost died losing himself to her magic after it went wild, she would die giving
herself wholly over to you. You'll have to be careful with her, Master. But I don't think there
would be too many side-effects, no. It's just worth going in with eyes open."

"R- Right. Well... I'll have to talk to the others, get their input, but I don't see any reason to
say no tonight."
"Good," Fleur said with a happy sigh, "Zat makes me 'appy to 'ear. I shall leave you to eet,
zhen. Good night, mon chérie, and mon amie."

"Er, good night, Fleur," he shot back, bemused. Chérie meant 'love', didn't it? And amie
'friend'?

Before he could ponder it too much, Lilith was in his lap, her clothes gone, and grinding her
groin against his crotch. "Master, I'm so hungry," she moaned, all self restraint apparently
gone out the window as Fleur let her clothing fall to the floor and climbed, shamelessly nude,
into the opposite bed and beneath the covers.

Even with the petite form of his personal, living sex-toy sitting in his lap, Harry was sure it
was seeing Fleur Delacour casually nude beneath the covers, watching them while she laid
down for a night's rest that caused his penis to begin to swell and harden faster than Lilith had
been getting it worked up before.

As she had expected, no doubt, it was soon trying to force its way past the waistband of his
jeans, and as Lilith's own clothing vanished into nothing, one small hand came down to
squeeze and rub his length through the cloth. She leaned in for a kiss, nibbling at his lower lip
in a sensual way as they separated, and kept her eyes locked on his while she reached down
for the hem of his shirt and lifted.

Harry's own arms raised to let her take it off of him, and those same hands moved onto his
chest, running lightly over the slowly-building muscle there as she whispered, "Which hole
do you want today, Master?"

"All of them," he said quietly, almost sub-vocally, against her mouth, his arms slipping from
her waist to cup her buttocks, kneading and pulling, separating them as she began grinding
against him.

"No, not tonight," she replied back, "you still need to rest, and a good feeding will keep me
healthy enough for tomorrow. You're pretty pent up, it's been almost twenty-four hours since
you've climaxed."

Harry could tell. Even caught in his jeans by the stiff, tight-woven cotton, his still stiffening
and growing erection felt harder than ever. With each pulse of his heart, he could feel it throb,
and idly wondered if it would eventually cut off circulation to his left leg. "That creature with
the weird finger-tentacles in the mouth, the one from your world. That feels amazing, but... is
there anything better? If you want me to rest, I should probably just cum fast and hard."

Lilith pondered, slipping off his lap and reaching down for his jeans with one snap and
putting the other on her jaw line. "Well, there's a phnaffslishth, but it's... fairly male-gendered.
So if you were Iris I'd recommend that."

"Maybe next time," Harry murmured, sending a glance over to Fleur, to see how she reacted
to that little tidbit of information. But while the blonde girl was propped up on a pair of
pillows and clearly watching them, she didn't seem to react.
"Or," Lilith shrugged as she put both hands on the task of unzipping now that his pants were
unsnapped, "I can just give you a really, really good blow-job and let you rest some more."

Harry lifted his hips, putting his weight back on his hands, then both legs as she stepped
back, tugging both them and his boxers down. His dick sprang up, slapping him in the
stomach with a sound that almost sounded like a fist meeting flesh once it was clear, and
stayed there as it rebounded, the angle making it point almost straight up. To his right, Harry
heard Fleur's breath quicken at the sight of him, but he didn't think she had reacted in any
other way. "That does sound pretty good... suck it, then."

"With pleasure," Lilith smiled, releasing his pants onto the floor and stepping in between his
legs, not bothering to kneel. Instead, she flittered up into the air after that and spun, using
magic more than her invisible wings to keep herself aloft, then lay down over her master's
angled torso in a 69 position.

"Good idea, Pet," he murmured, and sat back upright. Harry's right hand went to the back of
her head, resting there while she started licking rapidly at his tip, and the other slid under her
bent legs at the back of her thighs, and pulled her tight little cunt toward his mouth.

"O-Ohhhh, yeassss," Lilith moaned as his tongue made contact with her sensitive flesh, then
decided to stop teasing Harry and closed her lips around his tip before sinking down, all the
way down his shaft until her nose pressed into his heavy, very full sack. Her magical tongue
corkscrewed around his length while it was inside her mouth, twisting around him five or six
times in that space, tugging at his lower half while her throat convulsed around the upper.

It was definitely Harry's turn to groan. The Succubus had never done that particular
maneuver with him before.

He licked at her slit rapidly, tending mostly to the surface of what still, even after all this
time, appeared to be a fresh, virginal cunt. The familiar taste of sweet bubblegum washed
over his taste buds, reminding Harry strongly of a childhood he could not remember, had
never experienced, and desired all the more for it. Then the creature before him slipped one
hand lightly over his sack, kneading as it hung down, rolling his testicles in her palm,
between her fingers. The other arm, defying gravity with a display of her strength, moved to
the bed and pushed her up in a reverse press-up, sliding her mouth and throat along his
probably fifteen-inch shaft.

He couldn't see the bulge when he looked down, her body was too close, but Harry was easily
strong enough to reach up and grab her thighs, pulling her away just a little.

Beyond her petite, nubile chest, Lilith's slender throat looked like it almost doubled in
thickness. He knew her body accommodated him naturally, but to see the swell of her
stomach below her ribcage while he was in her mouth was something else. Awe-inspiring,
almost disturbing, and so very, very arousing.

Two-thirds of your whole torso, love...

Harry was not sure if she received the thought or not, but he meant it either way. She still
groaned again, rising and falling, as he brought her twat back to his face and resumed his
work whenever it was in range.

The moment Harry wanted her to go faster, Lilith picked up the pace. As he realized he
wanted a better, firmer grip from her lips and tongue, especially her throat, the Succubus did
it. In the bed across the room, Fleur shifted, her legs opening as she slipped both hands
between them and began openly frigging herself under the blankets.

He did not feel a wave of her arousal and lust, nothing like he had after making love to Ginny
in front of Ron and Hermione out by the pond the last summer, when she had come out
raving mad for sex, especially with him. But the same kind of in-born arousal Lilith
generated in him, which seemed to both meld with and feed off his own, was overpowering
in the room, and he knew he would not last much longer.

Like that first time with Daphne, it was just too much. Like the first blowjob from Lilith
herself, he was unused to the pleasure. This time, while the physical sensations were intense,
new, and even mind-blowing, it was the emotional need that drove him to grunt, nearly
inhaling the Succubus' tiny little clitoris as his hand on her head slammed her down even
harder, trying to force as much of his cock into her body as possible a moment before he
released.

There wasn't enough mental ability left in him during those several seconds for Harry to
count the burst, but Lilith happily did so as they forced her malleable throat even wider with
every pulse that smashed into her temporarily relocated stomach like a liquid bullet. She
could not help but climax too at the sensation combined with her Bonded Master's own
orgasm of course, but still kept track. Nine, ten... twelve... f- fifteen... eig-eighteen, Master, oh
sh... t-twenty, twenty-th-three...

That was the last one, at least big enough for her abused body to feel, and when Harry,
hypersensitive even beyond his Rune-enhanced ability because of the crushingly powerful
orgasm yanked her off of him, Lilith giggled as she spun mid-air, floating upright, and resting
her hands on her belly. Then she smiled, turning sideways, "Look, Master, I'm pregnant with
your seed."

Harry felt himself groan as he panted, strangely flagged by the strong climax for once, even
as he felt his cock, satisfied as it rarely was, begin to rise up more at the idea.

"Ah, ah," Lilith said with another giggle, waving her finger at him like he was being naughty,
"You need to sleep. Good night, Fleur. I hope you enjoyed that cum, too."

"I did, mon amie," the breathless half-Veela said softly.

As she climbed into bed with him, Harry told Lilith, spooning up behind her, "Leave it until
I'm asleep, okay?"

She was a bit confused, until his right arm slipped over her waist and came to rest cupping
her distended, swollen belly.

Then she smiled in the dark, nestling into his embrace a bit further, before sending a faint
push of magic toward Fleur, who quickly fell into a dream-filled, happy sleep. Only then,
when they were truly alone, she whispered, "I would bare you one if I could, Master."

She didn't know how awake he was, his own body was becoming enough like hers that even
with their Bond continuing to strengthen, it was no longer easy to read him unless they were
actively copulating. Thus, Lilith was a little surprised when he kissed the top of her head and
his hand pushed against her belly a little harder for a moment, "I don't know if I could settle
for one, my love."

That thought brought a sad, wistful look to her eyes as they filled with tears. While he slept
quickly after that, Lilith did not sleep at all.

That wasn't even unusual, but being limited to the residents of the Burrow rather than Little
Whinging or the residents of the Hogsmeade Valley left her needing to gather from everyone
present nightly. But on this night, all the Succubus could think about was what could never
be.

She simply was not human enough, no matter how much she might resemble them.

There were rumors, of course, myths and legends of the occasional Succubus who was on
Earth long enough to figure out how to do it. But those Succubi never returned, not ever.

It was only myth and rumor.

Which was why Lilith cried. Back home, she had more than enough genetic material stored
up already to make a child, for Harry was generous indeed with his semen. She would be
given that right by their Elders, too, thanks to the stores she had so diligently gathered.

But doing so would cost her Harry.

The tears were a long time in ceasing.

"I don't like it," a very tired-looking Arthur Weasley said just after dawn the next morning,
sending his wife, who was across the kitchen preparing breakfast for the horde, "but I can't
argue with your logic, Harry. I... how much are we talking about? I don't want it to be too
much."

"Ten Galleons a day," he said, knowing that was far too much, they would never accept it.

The shock both of the oldest Weasleys had in their faces when the looked his way was
priceless, and Harry had to fight to keep down the smirk at how easy they were making this.
"Absolutely not," Molly hissed, "That's far too much! T- Two is plenty!"

"Plus your effort? Nine."

Arthur sighed, "Harry, Molly likes feeding people. I'm not sure if you've noticed. Three is
more than enough to cover the costs."

Harry shook his head, forcing on a scowl instead of the grin he wanted to wear, "I know you
got a raise, Mr. Weasley, but this is too many extra mouths to feed and expect you to cover so
much of it. Then what about clothes, bedding? Toiletries? Linens? You have to at least take
eight."

"F- Four," Molly growled, looking legitimately annoyed, red-faced, "and not a sickle more!"

"Plus," Harry replied at once, "there's helping with homework over the break, and don't get
me started on clothes shopping. That's a fortune, plus any school supplies that were damaged
or just need replacing! Six is the absolute lowest I can go. Nothing else would be fair."

"It isn't fair to pay a Knut a day!" Molly cried, then slapped both hands over her mouth as she
remembered the house was full of still-sleeping teenagers.

"You're right," Harry replied calmly, fixing her with a level look, "It isn't fair that your family
should have to pay for all of them. That's why I'm helping. Five. That's it, no more
discussion, or I make it ten a day again."

"Harry, you-"

"Molly," Arthur said quietly, "I don't think we're going to talk him out of this."

"You won't."

She deflated a bit, sighed, then turned back to the stove, wiping her eyes suspiciously. "Too
much," she muttered.

Harry shook his head, reached for his mokeskin pouch, and withdrew a hundred and thirty
gold coins from it, stacking them on the table. "This should cover the twenty-two days of the
break. If you need more, tell me. I'm serious, both of you. You're taking on more than your
fair share anyway. Aren't there, well, orphanages for magical children?"

"Well, no," Arthur answered, eyeing the large stack of coins uncomfortably, "There... well,
once we had one. Warburton's Asylum for Wizarding Children. Lost, you see, about a century
ago. The Knights of Walpurgis wiped it out."

Harry frowned.

"They were the forebears of the Death Eaters," Molly whispered.

Harry suddenly felt sick, but he pushed the pile of coins over to Arthur anyway. "Well, if
you're running an impromptu one, consider me your first investor. Take it, and come to me if
you need more. I mean it, you know I have plenty. I can afford to help, and I want to help."

"A- Alright, Harry," Arthur said quietly, reaching out and scooping one handful after another
into his pockets, "I guess I'd better get going if I'm stopping at Gringott's before I go in to the
Ministry. Thank you, Harry. You are a good man."

"So are you," Harry reminded him. "One other quick thing. I know you like to care for
people, but I want to help take care of you, too. Winky!"
The elf appeared with a pop, her Hogwarts' tea-towel affixed properly, and she blinked up at
Harry more clear-eyed than he had seen her since the night they met. "Sir calls for Winky?"

"Yes," he said with a smile, ignoring the growing look of horror on Molly's face, "This is the
Weasley home, very old family, you know. They need some help caring for some long-term
guests. Don't take no for an answer, but let Molly- she's just the one there- do things, too. She
likes work, like a House-Elf does."

"Yes, Sir," Winky nodded a bit apprehensively, then turned to Harry, "Is... is Sir not happy
with Winky's service, Sir?"

"No," Harry assured her, sliding off his chair to kneel before her kindly, "I'm very happy with
it. You aren't leaving my service, you are only helping out here instead of at Hogwarts. That's
all. Sometimes, Dobby might need your help where I'll be staying, too. It will probably be for
about three weeks. Is that okay?"

"Harry, no, you can't do- this is too much," Molly blurted out hastily.

He ignored her.

Winky gave the graying red-head another look, then around at the house, where she could see
a few heads even from here through the living room door. "Winky is happy to help, Sir."

"Excellent. Well, whenever you're ready. But remember, let her cook and clean, too. You can't
do it all yourself. If you get bored, you can keep helping out at Hogwarts."

"Yes, Sir, Winky understands."

"Excellent."

Then she was gone. Harry looked up into the almost shocked faces of the Weasley parents,
then shrugged, "What? You're family. She's family. Family helps each other out. I'm not
going to argue about it, and I'm not going to change my mind."

Arthur sighed, shaking his head before standing from the table and going over to kiss his
wife. "I'm off, then. I'll see you on Boxing Day, Harry, if you don't visit before."

Then he was gone, and a moment later out of the house entirely, vanishing in magically green
flames from the hearth.

Molly, on the other hand, looked at Harry as if she were somewhere between relieved and
disappointed. "Harry, this... it's too much," she moaned.

Harry shook his head, "It's not. You are my family, now, as long as you'll have me. They are
my elves, like it or not. I couldn't just let her die, and Dobby, nutter that he is, wanted to
serve. If I'm part of the family, then I should be able to help."

"You... you're such a sweet boy," Molly whimpered, and met the embrace Harry gave her
silently.
Sirius Black arrived through the Floo about two hours later, and after greeting Molly, was
informed that the children were 'up in Ron's room, saying goodbye', whatever that meant.

He should have known.

He might have, if he'd been thinking. But the thirty-seven year old was not prepared to see
the youngest Weasley's nude body writhing atop his godson's lap, both facing the door. Or
maybe they were watching Ron as he pounded Hermione's bum while she was on all fours on
his bed, facing Harry's cot.

Neither Weasley stopped as all four teenager's eyes turned to him. And Sirius Black, for all
that he'd played the field as a boy himself, had nothing to say in response. "Enjoying the
show?"

He jumped at the sultry voice behind him, only recognizing Lilith by the demonic form she
currently wore as she stood behind him. No one, he thought, had followed him up the stairs.

But at her cooing words, Ginny moaned, "C- Cumming," calling his eyes to her body as it
jerked and spasmed, liquid gushing out of her slit and onto the floor.

She seemed to have triggered the rest, for Ron, then Hermione, and Harry all in rapid
succession climaxed too. That was the last thing he was aware of before Sirius Black passed
out into the arms of the Succubus.

"Mean," Harry chuckled as she dragged the old man into the room and laid him down on the
floor in a mostly-comfortable position, while Ginny rose off of him and spun to slurp their
fluids off his dick, and Hermione did the same to Ron. This time, Lilith let them have it.

"How so? I got here as fast as I could," Lilith shrugged, "Besides, now he can dream about
exhibitionist Weasleys, too."

"I came so hard," Ginny said with an almost hysterical laugh after she'd cleaned Harry, "I
didn't- didn't think I wanted an old man watching, but... my word."

"Come on," Lilith laughed, "He's not that old. Almost in his prime. And I know he'd be a
good shag. No, I haven't you perverted girl, but I've seen his mind, and heard... well, his girl.
I've seen her mind, too."

"I'll take your word for it," Ron muttered, glancing at Sirius, "How, uh, how long d'you
reckon he'll be out?"

"A few minutes at most, why?"

The ginger looked up at Lilith, his eyes raking her body, "I... I've never, um, been with you
like that."

But Lilith shook her head and giggled, running a long-nailed finger down his jaw as she
morphed back into Lilian Vergot, a shape she still had reason to take on occasion, "Sorry,
lad... perhaps during the hols Master will send me over to visit. It would only take a moment,
now that I've been here for a day or two, even over the distance. Shadowstep is pretty useful,
once I've attuned to a place. Very long-range, as long as I've been there a while."

"Nice," Harry said with a grin, standing up and pulling up his trousers, "I can visit too, then."

"You can just take the Floo," Ginny reminded him, rolling her eyes and giving his still half-
erect dick a few pumps with her hand before it disappeared.

"Ah. Yeah."

"I couldn't bring you that far, Master, anyway. Short distances yes, but you're human and
would suffocate over a long distance like this. About the most I could take you is... between
the castle and the village or back."

"But you brought me here from London."

"Yes, in an emergency, when you were barely conscious and breathing slowly. It isn't safe for
normal use that way."

"That's still dead useful, though."

She nodded at Hermione's impressed-sounding comment as the bookworm dressed herself,

blushing slightly as she stepped, half-nude, over Sirius to find her discarded knickers and
skirt. With her upper digestive tract full of Harry and her lower full of Ron, Hermione didn't
want to go around without them... for now. Even if her parents would be getting only a couple
of days of her this particular vacation.

... Unless... maybe they can visit Sirius...? Mm... that's an idea.

As she was facing away, no one caught the devious smile that spread on her face, but she
really didn't think Harry or his godfather would mind.

After all... he'd liked it before, and Sirius was an old hound-dog.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was the first to step through to The Doghouse, as the Floo
Network Authority had named it (entirely not of his design, Sirius assured them, though
everyone present knew he was lying). Five minutes after that, she was walking for the nearest
bus-stop, which would take her to the train that would take her, in turn, home.

Harry hoped she would not be gone long.

But once she was out of sight down the walk, Harry turned to Sirius, who was still blushing.
"So, did you think my girlfriend was sexy?"

"S- Shut up, Pup," the older man groaned, turning away.

"Why? I think she is. Don't you, Lilian?"

"I sure do," the statuesque blonde practically purred, "I'd love to get my mouth between those
freckled legs again and just... mmm, mm!"
"She's- she's too young for me, Harry," Sirius growled, and if Harry didn't know better, he
might have been intimidated by it.

"She'd still shag you if I asked, and like it," he shrugged, "But don't worry... I won't, unless
you ask. I want you to be happy, that's all. If she's too young for you, then that's it. But my
Pets- both of them- think you're a handsome enough bloke for an old man."

"Hey, I'm not old!"

"Okay, an older man," Harry corrected with a grin at his godfather's glare, "but hey, Ginny
likes being watched. Turns her on, you know."

Sirius gave him a gimlet eye, "And- you?"

"What about me?" he asked innocently, as Lilian shook her head in amusement and started
walking toward the stairway up to the bedrooms, carrying her own luggage but leaving
Harry's for him.

"I notice you didn't stop, either," Sirius grumbled, "And her own brother was there."

"Can I let you in on a secret?"

"Don't see you've got much else to hide, at this point," Sirius muttered, turning away. "Lils
would fekkin' have my hide."

That made Harry blush, but also grin. "Maybe... and Dad would probably tell you to hit it,
wouldn't he?"

"... Maybe..."

"Well, I stand by what I said. I was being serious."

"You were being Harry, I was being-"

"Seriously? We're gonna do this now?"

"Always," Sirius laughed, then turned to pull his godson into a strong, lasting hug. "Missed
you, Pup. Even if I could've gone forever without seeing your junk."

"Worth it for the rest of the view, though, right?"

"I guess. Still awfully young."

Harry shrugged, hefting his trunk over his shoulder like it weighed nothing, which made the
older wizard boggle, "Come on up, we may's well put our stuff away while we talk. I need to
spend a few hours with Lilith today, she's very hungry after the- the station, and me being out
for so long, but we can talk for a bit."

It was strangely easy catching up with Sirius, Harry decided over the next two hours. Even
discussing the attack on Platform 9 3/4 came far easier than he had expected, once Sirius
asked him how he was doing. Sirius, after all, had been there too. Fought beside him. He
understood, and it was no harder than it was with Ginny, or Hermione, or Ron.

"I'm surviving," Harry concluded after explaining in detail (at Lilian's urging with the buxom
blonde's breasts pressed into his back as a distraction) exactly how he felt about it all with a
day and more to process, "but it's going to be a long, long time before the anger fades.
Fucking cowardly attack."

"You're right, it was," Sirius said, downing the last of the third shot of Fire Whiskey he had
had during the more sensitive discussion. Harry had stuck with just one, though Lilith had
assured him he could burn off the alcohol pretty easily if he wanted to. "Worst I've seen the
Death Eaters pull off, too. Even if it failed. That was... a lot of dead."

Harry nodded.

"But enough being sappy," Sirius decided as he set his glass down, "What's the plan for the
next few days?"

"Well, Christmas is right 'round the corner, if you didn't know," Harry said with a grin
himself, glad for the change to a less-somber topic, "And... I'd like to visit Godric's Hollow.
With Remus, too. If you're up for it."

The thought brought the older wizard up cold, but after a few seconds, he sighed, ran a hand
down his face comically, then nodded. "I... I suppose we should. I've... never been. Never had
a chance, or... well, the will, now that I'm a free man. But you're right. It... it feels like it's
time."

"On Christmas."

Sirius nodded, "That's perfect. I'm sure Remus would love to go. Er... he and Tonks are, you
know... together, now. He'll probably ask if she can come, but it's up to you. He won't be
offended, and she won't, either."

Harry grinned, "That's excellent news! I was wondering when she'd get his head out of his
wolfy arse. I don't mind at all."

Sirius grinned too, "I know, right? Anyway, I'll Floo him tonight. Hermione wanted to come
over on Christmas too, right?"

"Well... she kind of hinted visiting the day before, too," Harry shrugged, "but didn't give me
details. It's not like her, but she might have a bit of a surprise."

"Huh. Alright, well... it's still better here than the shitty Christmas last year," Sirius said,
remembering Arthur Weasley's time in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and
Injuries as well as Harry did.

"Too right."

Sirius glanced up over Harry's head, where Lilian was tantalizing him by running a fingertip
around her lips suggestively, then patted his knees and stood up, "Well, I guess your
Succubus has some needs you have to take care of, Harry. I'll leave you to it. Er... try to keep
the sound down, eh? It's gonna be a lonesome night for me, I'm afraid."

"We'll try," Harry said with a smile once more, "but no promises."

"Bastard."

"You know my parents were married. Get out, perverted old man."

"You still suck."

All three laughed as he shut the door behind him.

Harry enjoyed the alone time with his sexy case-worker very much. Nine times, in fact, the
longest stretch they'd had... maybe ever.

They didn't even sleep, and Harry didn't come out of his room until almost dinner the next
day.

Lilian did only once, for about five minutes, to help Sirius get to rest.

She didn't tell Harry she'd done it with her mouth in addition to magic. He didn't need her to,
and didn't care any more.
 Christmas Mo(u)rning
Chapter Summary

Trigger Warnings: Feels. Lots of them. Good, Bad, Ugly-Crying kind of feels.
At least for some people. Oddly, not a lot of smut. Next chapter's got a fair bit though,
two completely different scenes of it. :)

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on SubStar.
Follow my DISCORD link, then go to the "Links in General" channel at the bottom (I don't
believe you even need to have Discord, or be a member, to see that channel- and if you do,
someone PM me and I'll fix it). SubStar's posted up past Chapter 100. So... you know, it's a
long way ahead (they have started the summer after 6th).

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 90 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

FFnet is still 5 chapters ahead. If you really want to read a bit more for free... but if you want
the advanced stuff, you should really hit up the SubStar. Not kidding about the 100+ chapters.
:)

RELATED NOTE, sort of: If I ever miss a week, like it's Monday and I haven't posted a
chapter I should have Saturday? Someone PM me. Here, on my Discord, wherever. All
channels of communication are open. Sometimes I just get distracted and forget. I know, I
know, I'm human... shameful! But shoot me a line and I'll get to it as soon as I can (and feel
massively guilty). :)
You know, like today. lol

Chap. 65: Christmas Mo(u)rning

A knock on the front door of Sirius' small home woke Harry from a low, drowsing slumber
he had only been in for a few hours. A quick glance at the room he shared with Lilith showed
it was still quite dark outside, and the only significant source of light was the bedside clock,
which read 05:22. As he stared in disbelief at the ungodly hour, it clicked over to :23, before
another knock, a little louder, sounded through the house. Across the hall through a pair of
closed doors, Harry heard a muffled murmur as Sirius woke up too. Lilith, as usual, was
curled against him after her late-night wandering of the small town, gathering what leavings
she could in her temporary territory, while still being mindful of the other Succubus who had
been here for far longer that lived nearby.

With a groan, Harry threw the blankets off, pressed a kiss to Lilith's forehead, then rolled
over her, "I s'pose I'd better see who it is," he grumbled.

The Succubus, needing less sleep than even he, rolled over with a satisfied expression as she
belched more of his semen from a few hours earlier, "You might want to throw on a
housecoat, Master."

"Ah... good point."

He slipped on the only one he owned, rarely used as it was and thus far only at Sirius' place,
before stepping out into the hall with his wand in hand. Just in case. It had only been three
days since the Death Eater attack on the train, after all. Even if he doubted they would come
knocking rather than blasting...

Harry peeked out the small peephole cautiously, silently, wishing that the lights from the very
muggle Christmas Tree Sirius had put up with his girlfriend's help a few days before had not
shown his presence through the window quite so easily. Three people stood on his doorstep,
each bundled up in winter clothing against a light snowfall, sporting wide, if tired, grins and
several wrapped packages. He recognized all three, but the one in the center was by far the
most familiar. He opened the door of his godfather's home with a new, much happier smile of
his own, "Hermione, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger! I didn't expect you for a few hours."

"Hermione woke us up early," the older man said with a soft rumbling voice, "And she
assured us you would be awake. It appears she was mistaken."

"Eh," Harry shrugged, stepping back and gesturing for them to enter, "I wasn't really awake
or asleep, but come in, come in. How long did you drive?"

"About an hour," Mrs. Granger said, who blushed as she moved past Harry, the last to enter
the house. For a moment he couldn't imagine why, until he remembered. The last time he had
seen the elder Grangers, he was shagging Hermione's mother while the daughter watched,
and Lilith rode her father energetically. The Succubus had, she said, made it all seem like a
particularly vivid dream to the parents, but...

Were there echoes, still?

"Traffic's pretty light, you know," Mr. Granger continued, as he followed Hermione's lead
and put several packages beneath the tree, "What with the weather and, well, the holiday."

"And being too early in the fuckin' morning," Sirius groaned as he stepped, clad in a house
robe himself, into the hallway.

"Ah, y- yes," Mrs. Granger said, blushing as she glanced at the long-haired, tattooed wizard.
Harry blinked, then started, "Er, right, sorry, I forgot you hadn't met. Mr. Granger, Mrs.
Granger, this is Sirius Orion Black, former escaped criminal, actual decent bloke sometimes.
My godfather. Sirius, this is Hermione's parents, uh... Daniel and Emmaline, right?"

"Dan and Emma," the muggle man replied, putting out a hand after crossing the room. Sirius
took it easily enough, giving a firm shake.

Sirius turned to Harry, "You've got it, Pup?"

"Yeah, go back to bed, old man," he chuckled, and Sirius gave a half-awake wave as he
turned back around and disappeared down the hall.

"Sorry," Harry said, too cheered by half at just seeing Hermione after only a few days'
absence to mind his godfather's grumpy early-morning mood, "He's not exactly a morning
person, and was up late."

"Not to worry," Emma said, giving Hermione an annoyed glance, "We honestly hadn't
planned on being here this early, but someone insisted."

"In my defense," Hermione sniffed, finally free of her own packages, unwinding her long,
Gryffindor-colored scarf as she spoke, "I wasn't wrong, was I? Harry was awake, I didn't say
anything about Sirius. His, er, friend is probably awake, too."

"Pretending to sleep," Harry clarified.

"Er... you've mentioned this friend several times, Hermione," Mr. Granger said, slowly
removing his own coat and, at Harry's gesture, taking both his wife's and his daughters with
him to the coat-rack, "but you've yet to explain what her relationship is to Harry. After your...
activities over the summer, I was under the impression you two were rather involved."

Harry paled. It was far too early for this discussion!

Emma allayed his fear slightly by pressing a cool hand to his arm and giving him a reassuring
look, "Don't worry, dear, we aren't going to tell you anything like 'you're too young', and Dan
most certainly is not going to tell you that you aren't good enough to date his daughter. We've
already been told, at length I might add, that it is 'none of your business what or who I do in
my private time', and that we should be grateful our daughter has come into her own as an
adult woman. I, for one, am quite proud of her."

"And I'm... tolerant, I suppose," her husband huffed, "even if I don't like it."

Hermione snickered as she put a hand through Harry's and stretched up to kiss his stubbled
jaw in front of her parents, but she still seemed a bit nervous. "Maybe... maybe it's best if we
sit down for this. I don't suppose it's too early for tea, Harry?"

"No, of course not," he said, embarrassed at how bad a job it suddenly felt like he was doing
as host. "Or something stronger, if you'd like. Hot chocolate or even coffee, too. I don't know
how Sirius drinks that shite, but I can brew some."
"Er, hot cocoa sounds excellent, I think," Mrs. Granger said easily, "if it's not too much
trouble."

"No, not at all," Harry assured her.

A few minutes later, wand applied usefully, he returned with a floating serving tray, with
three cups of marshmallow-laden hot chocolate, and one of mixed coffee and tea (an even
worse travesty, but Mr. Granger had asked...), plus tea for Lilith when she deigned to come
out of his room. That she was listening in had been made clear by a mental message, she was
now only waiting for the right moment. "Here you go," he said casually, glad that he required
far fewer hours of sleep than a normal person. Hermione's parents, though they had
apparently been awake for a while already, were still bleary-eyed even though it was getting a
little closer to six now.

He took a seat on the second of two love-seats, next to Hermione, while her parents were on
the opposite one, leaving the long couch and a single squishy armchair next to the low-
burning fireplace free. "So... what was it you asked, Mr. Granger?"

"I didn't," he replied, "but I did say that I was curious about your relationship with this friend
Hermione keeps mentioning, and how it affects your relationship with Hermione."

"Harry," Hermione told him as he drew in a breath to answer nervously, "You don't have to
tell him anything. I've told them both that it's your business, not mine, or theirs. They will
respect it if you don't want to say."

As reassuring as her words were to hear, it was Hermione's mug-free hand twisting in his
own that made Harry feel the safest, not that he considered either of her parents a true threat.
Except that they could make Hermione feel miserable, and he would never want that. Still, he
had long since decided that honesty was the best policy, so he drew in a deep breath, took a
last sip, and started to explain.

Not in great detail of course, but how he had been frustrated, feeling very alone (and in more
than once sense), and summoned help in the form of a Succubus. Both of the Grangers had at
least heard the word, for neither asked for an explanation. How that, in turn, had led to so
many other changes in his life, in how he reacted to the world, and in some ways, how he
thought.

What Harry did not do was mention sharing the Succubus with anyone else, and especially
not Hermione.

That she took care of on her own, after he had caught them up to more or less the present day,
including a brief mention of the attack. "Mum, Dad, you already know about the terrorist
attack on downtown London the other day, of course. What you don't know is that it was
perpetrated by the Death Eaters and a few Giants. Followers of the man Harry is literally
prophesied to fight against. One of them must kill the other, it's the only way."

Both parents paled, but Hermione kept her gaze steady even as her hand began to tremble and
sweat in Harry's. "I love him. I won't abandon him. I love Ron. Ron won't abandon him.
Ginny, Harry's other girlfriend, won't abandon him. We are all going to fight. Together. Lilith,
which is what Harry's Succubus goes by in her normal form, won't abandon him. You know
we can't, that I can't. It's not who I am. No matter how bad it gets."

The older woman in the room was white as a ghost, Harry thought, but she was the first to
respond, her voice shaking and tremulous, "That... that attack was aimed at Harry, wasn't it?
If... if there's a... prophecy?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes. Not only him, but yes. But I've already told you how they feel about
Muggleborns like myself, or muggles, like you. They will not hesitate. You are vermin to
them, and I am lower even than that in some ways. I won't stand by and let them exterminate
us."

"Too right," Daniel Granger said, his own voice not entirely steady, "That's my girl. I... I don't
like it, but I'm proud. But that doesn't answer my question about your... relationships."

Hermione glanced at Harry, then looked back to her parents. "I said I love Harry, and I love
Ron. Ginny is my best friend, and... more recently, one of my lovers. So is Lilith."

It took a few moments for them to process what she'd said, but eventually Mr. Granger
nodded, "So, that's how it is, then."

His daughter returned the gesture, "Yes. I believe it's most accurately described as a
polyamorous relationship. Harry, Lilith, Ron, myself, and Ginny are all together in some
way... and there are others that orbit us, in a way, but are not fully involved. Or aren't yet."

The last she had added hastily, when Harry gave her hand a squeeze. Then he added, "Mr.
and Mrs. Granger, I didn't ask for this. All I wanted when I summoned Lilith was... well, a bit
of fun and some... stress relief. But I don't regret it. My life, all of our lives, are so much
better now. And not just because of... well, the physical things. We are more open, friendlier,
happier, with each other and other people."

Emma shook her head, a strange, shy sort of smile adorning her face, so much like
Hermione's, only a little older, "Dear, we don't... blame you. At least, I don't. It's just... a bit
of an adjustment, you see. We knew there was something else going on, the way Hermione
went on in her letters and over the last two nights, but this... to hear she's not only got two
boyfriends, but at least two female lovers, and... it's a lot. Surely you can see that."

"I can, absolutely," Harry said, "I just want to remind you that Hermione is still your
daughter. She hasn't changed that much. If anything, she's just more... open, about what she
wants."

Mr. Granger nodded, putting down the now empty mug he was holding and putting the free
hand around his wife's shoulders, "Well, I... I can't say I saw this coming. Never in a million
years. But I know I can't stop her. Hermione's of-age, now, if nothing else. She would just...
up and leave, if it came down to it."

"No, Dad," Hermione protested softly, "You know I wouldn't. I mean, if you forced me to
choose between you and them, I... I suppose yes, I would, but you aren't like that, either."
"No, I suppose not," the older man sighed, "Just... like all parents, I only ever wanted you to
be happy and healthy and whole, Hermione. Everything else is... just flavoring in the vast
feast of life. Or... or something."

Emma snorted at his attempt to be philosophical, and leaned into her husband's arm. "What I
think he's trying to say, dearest, is that while it's a bit of a shock, we can't... disagree. After
all, we were that age, once. I don't suppose I ever told you I had a girlfriend, in college,
before I met your father. Kept her for a while after we began dating, too. I... it's not that large
a shock."

Hermione's eyes widened, but she shook her head, "No, I don't think it's ever come up."

Dan Granger snorted, his face darkening in a blush, "Not... not my proudest moment, Emma."

To explain, his wife kissed his cheek and then turned to her daughter and lover, "You see,
Dan eagerly joined us at first. The chance to be with two gorgeous girls like us? Of course he
did. But he got jealous- of me. He wanted to be with Josephine, you know, at first. But while
she was willing if we were all together, alone she found him... boring."

"Boring," Dan snorted.

"Eventually, they started arguing as he kept pursuing her, and she kept rejecting him. I ended
up being the go-between more often than not, which is when I realized that I was in love with
him. Once I confessed, Josephine felt betrayed, of course. We'd been dating for two years by
then. A different time, free love... but she was hurt. Your father tried to confront her about it,
convince her we could still all stay together... it didn't end well. His black eye took two weeks
to fade."

"And... Josephine..." Hermione whispered, then her eyes widened suddenly, "Aunt Jo?"

With a faint blush, Hermione's mother nodded. "We still see each other, of course, but we
aren't intimate. Haven't been since we split up that day."

"I... I..."

Lilith chose that moment to come into the room, appearing as the older, pink-haired and
busty form Ron preferred, but fully clothed in casual clothing fit for a teenager of her years.
She gave a casual wave to the Grangers as she stepped around that loveseat to squeeze onto
Harry's lap, and put her legs over Hermione's, who rested a hand on them. "'Morning, Harry,
Hermione. Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I'm Lilith."

"Er..."

"Master already told you what I am," the Succubus reminded them, "so don't feel the need to
be shy around me. I don't care. You might see me naked, or shagging. I don't care. I might see
you- I don't care. You get the picture. I have no shame, and you don't need to feel
embarrassed about or because of me. For anything."
Harry got the distinct impression she was, despite her words, teasing them with mental
images of what she could do to please them, or perhaps with foggy memories of when Harry
had visited their home the previous summer.

"At any rate, while you are around Master," she continued, "you should expect to see, or at
least risk seeing, him or his friends, myself, in compromising positions. That may include
your daughter. While they may still feel some shame about that, I will not. I would ask that, if
you do feel shame in that circumstance, you hide it as best you can. To us, all of us, there is
nothing abnormal about it. Not any more."

Mr. Granger frowned deeply as he looked between the three younger beings several times,
"I... I can't promise that. Your Mum and I, Hermione, we've adjusted to a lot about this...
world you've entered. A lot. Trolls, Basilisks, Dark Lords... you've been honest and up-front
with us, and I appreciate that. Even this... Succubus is something I think I can deal with. But
asking us to keep, well, keep our cool, in a situation like that... I can't promise anything. I just
don't know what I'd do."

To her credit, the youngest Granger nodded seriously, "That's fine, Daddy. I don't mind if you
get upset if that happens. But you need to know that I wouldn't be upset, either. Obviously
I'm not going to... flaunt it. But I'm not ashamed of it, either."

"We know, dear," Mrs. Granger added quietly, her face more red than anyone else's, "it's
just... well, you've basically told us that you're sleeping around with a bunch of people, and
now you wouldn't be bothered if we, your own parents, caught you at it? You have to realize
that's... unusual."

"It is," Harry answered for her, quite seriously, "It's unusual for most people. But we're hardly
what most people would call normal, either. Even most witches and wizards, less than one
percent of the human population, don't... do that sort of thing. But Succubi are not unheard of.
We are not the only ones with... well, not lifestyles, but lives like this now."

"There's another Succubus that lives about three miles from here," Lilith pointed to the south-
east, "just on the other side of the valley. I avoid them since this is their territory and I'm
near-poaching, but they haven't got the might to push me out if I wanted to stay anyway. It's
not worth the conflict, though, they aren't our enemy. I just wanted you to know that, because
even if it seems strange to you, there is a lot that your parents, your siblings, your neighbors,
your friends, your coworkers, don't know about your lives... and that you don't know about
theirs. Just because people put on a polite face doesn't mean we don't all have our secrets.
Ours, Master's circle of friends at least, is just out there in the open now."

"That's really what it boils down to," Hermione finished explaining, "Our 'torrid love-lives'
are out there in the open, not hiding in secret. And I'm not bothered by it. Honestly, not one
whit. I was already a target for Voldemort and the Death Eaters for being Muggle-born, much
less Harry's friend. This? It's nothing new. The only difference is that now I don't have to hide
what I want. What I've secretly wanted since I was... old enough to know what sex was."

"Out of idle curiosity, dear...?"

She looked over at her mother and murmured a single word, "Nine."
Dan Granger sighed, seeming to deflate, then waved his hand in the air, "Fine, fine. I still
can't make promises if... we see anything like that, but I'll try. Alright?"

"Thank you, Daddy," Hermione murmured quietly, standing up to cross the space and give
him a hug, then moving to her mother, "Thanks, Mum."

The older woman's stifled yawn as her daughter pulled away a bit gave Harry an idea. "Er...
it's still early. Well, late for presents I s'pose, but Sirius really does like to have a lie-in most
days. Do- do you all want to have a lie-down for a while? We've got a spare guest room you
could kip in."

The Grangers shared a look, and Lilith hopped off Harry's lap, "Come on, I'll show you the
way."

"Er... what about Hermione," Dan asked quietly, giving the much smaller girl's hand a
dubious look before she hauled him upright without effort.

"Well, I can kip on the couch," Harry offered, "and she can use my bed, but I don't really-"

"No," Hermione scoffed., "I want to spend time with you, Harry. It's been three days."

Both of the older Granger's faces heated at the implication, but their daughter only looked
back at them defiantly, "What?"

"Nothing, dear," Emma murmured, reaching out to take her husband's hand from the
Succubus, "I suppose you should lead the way then, er, Lilith?"

"Or Lyra," the Succubus replied cheerfully, then morphed into a statuesque blonde, "Or
Lilian. You can just call me Lils, too. Or whatever."

The two somewhat bemused adults followed her up the stairs and down the hall, leaving
Hermione and Harry alone. But contrary to her implication, the brunette only pulled Harry
back down onto the loveseat and leaned into him, slowly taking in one breath after another
while gazing at the tree. Ever so gently, a great deal of tension fled her body, one small bit
every breath she took, until Hermione whispered, "I wasn't going to tell them at all, but then,
I... with Lilith there, I couldn't not."

"I'm glad you did," he told her, the arm over her shoulders pulling her in while he bent to kiss
her crown, "You'll be better for it in the end."

"I suppose. This is nice, though. We haven't just cuddled in a long time."

"Never enough."

"Never."

Neither remembered drifting off.

Christmas, once Harry and Hermione had been woken by a much more cheerful Sirius, after
he and the Grangers had been fed and watered a couple of hours after dawn, had passed in a
way that Harry might have actually considered normal. There was no shouting, unlike at the
Weasleys, nor temper tantrums because they hadn't gotten enough gifts, like at the Dursleys.
He received quite as many presents as he had given out, as well, which still surprised him.
Daphne, Pansy, Astoria, and the other Slytherins he was now friendly with hadn't sent
anything, but he suspected that was more due to safety than anything else. He hadn't sent
their own presents for the same reason, owls were not that hard to track or intercept. Thus,
any gifts for Slytherins (among a few others) were safely tucked away inside his trunk
upstairs, just as they had been when he had left Hogwarts a half-week before.

Instead, it had passed in quite contemplation, laughter, and a sense of close-knit camaraderie,
as Lilith appeared in the same form she had been introduced to the Grangers that morning
some time just before lunch, and volunteered to assist Sirius in preparing their meal. In fact,
Harry was now certain that she was using some sort of mood-altering magic on the two
muggles, possibly to spare Hermione's feelings, for they fit in quite well with Harry,
Hermione, Lilith herself, and Sirius. Then, when the more studious Remus Lupin arrived at
two with Nymphadora "Just" Tonks in tow, the mood switched more to a friendly, jovial
atmosphere rather than a quiet family one, which Harry found himself appreciating just as
much.

Hermione's parents had left that evening with a promise from their daughter that she would
spend at least a month with them over the summer break since their Christmas had fallen
short. Remus and Tonks had taken up the guest room then, both rather too tipsy to drive.
Harry had, with Hermione's own approval, sent Lilith up to send a few wafts of Fog of Lust
into the bedroom they were sharing 'quietly'.

No one asked, the next morning, if they'd gotten up to anything. No one needed to, for there
were no Silencing Charms in place on the door.

At least Sirius had taken it in his stride, and only patted his last, best living friend on the
shoulder at breakfast, and muttered, "If you hurt my cousin..."

And that was it. Remus had been quite embarrassed about the whole thing, and even Tonks
had blushed, but no one else ribbed them about it. Even if Hermione promised to have a long
talk with Ginny once she got all the 'sordid details' from their Auror friend.

Sirius was the one to Apparate both Harry and Lilith to Godric's Hollow, while Remus
brought Hermione. Tonks, while she had been invited, declined, telling Harry that this time
she would let him go without her, but that she would be happy to meet his parents as best
they could, now, next time.

They appeared amidst another light snow, which swirled around them in a light breeze at the
end of a small village lane. To Harry's left was an old church with a well-worn kissing gate
leading beyond it into what looked like a very old graveyard, while on the right and beyond
were small cottages, stretching down the lane to a few shops and larger buildings he could
see perhaps a quarter-mile down the cobbled street. There were very few cars in sight, and
none parked on the road, but almost every house had lights on inside even during the daytime
thanks to the dark clouds that hung low overhead.
As he stepped forward, Sirius behind them, Hermione on his right and Lilith on his left, both
reaching out with mittened hands to hold his own, their feet crunched on the new snow,
perhaps three inches of it, over an older, more packed layer. A single monument at the edge
of the town, just in front of the old church, showed a few soldiers from the last Great War,
Harry thought, with a plaque, worn and faded, that bore their names. It sat in the center of the
road in a small circle of grass about ten feet across, the monument about twice that high,
oddly large for a small town like this. But as Harry approached, wanting to get his bearings a
bit, it changed before his eyes.

A man, a woman, both in their twenties he guessed, the woman holding a small bundle. The
plaque, too, grew larger and the words changed too.

In Memory of...

He could not look. He knew, thanks to the Priori Incantatum effect, the Dementor-caused
memories, and now Lilith's own copy of his subconscious memories in his mother's case,
exactly what his parents had looked like. The Mirror of Erised had been very close, but still
not quite it. This... this was a travesty.

"Ridiculous," he heard himself saying scornfully, giving the monument barely a glance
before turning away.

That was when he spotted it, where there had been only a fence before.

Two muggle homes on either side, half the size or smaller of the Durlsey's, flanked a cottage
of about the same size. Or at least, the ruins of one. The yard was overgrown, the top of a
tricycle, probably never-used, the red paint mostly rusted away, barely visible through the
grass, which stood itself as high as the dilapidated fence. The front door was inside the house,
he could see the corner of it just visible in the scant light that moved through the gaping hole,
weathered and worn just as the exterior of the building was. Windows were missing or
cracked, but most of the panes at least were still intact. No rude muggle boys had thrown
rocks at his parents' home. Likely, it was only the weather or birds that had done that little
damage.

But the upper floor...

"That was your room." he heard Remus tell him as if through a thick fog.

Harry nodded, his hand landing on the gate's top without moving as he peered up at the
empty space. The house was more than half there, unlike rumors he'd heard over the years,
but it had clearly suffered significant damage. He didn't hesitate, though, moving past the
sign that warned against trespass, leaving the gate open as he followed the half-hidden paving
stones up to the front door and onto the warped, wooden steps of the porch.

"Harry," Hermione said quietly, "I'm not sure it's safe. Are you- of course you are. Why did I
even ask?"

Faintly, Harry smiled at the roll of the girl's eyes she must have given herself, but didn't turn
back to look. Instead, he stepped in, slowly. "I remember that night. I dreamed it, as
Voldemort. One of the last he sent me before Lilith blocked the connection."

It was the first time he'd ever said anything like that in front of Remus, but Harry figured he
knew a fair bit because of Sirius, who knew about Harry's old dreams already. The lack of
reaction aside from a look of concern as he turned to face his companions told the young
wizard he was right. "My dad died right here, at the foot of the stairs. He didn't have his
wand."

"We found that," Remus murmured, "A few days later, on the nightstand there."

Harry followed his gesture with his eyes, finding a strangely familiar, yet very different living
room. He knew it, felt comfortable there, but it was covered in cobwebs and dust thanks to an
open window remaining so for the last fifteen and more years of his life. Animal droppings
covered the couch, coffee table, chairs, and carpet. An old muggle rabbit-eared television sat
in one corner, the screen cracked too, with a wireless next to it the size of a motorcycle.
Harry didn't need to examine every room. He knew this house intimately, though he could not
remember it.

The door to the right, now behind him, led to the mud room, where his mother had, many
times, held him against her waist while her wand or a single hand did the laundry.

Beyond the stairs was a kitchen and dining room, just as unused as the rest, where his mother
had been when his father had felt Voldemort approaching. When she'd been told to take Harry
and run.

"It just took one curse for my dad," Harry said quietly, staring at the spot where his father had
covered the lower three stairs with his torso and arms for several seconds, his eyes dry and
scratchy. There were no tears, not yet, but Harry knew they were coming.

He stepped past then, one hand on the filthy bannister grinding his own mittens through the
dust and dirt of years as he stepped higher, on sure feet despite the creak and groan of the old
wood.

The second floor was simpler, his parents' bedroom on the left, a guest room, washroom, and
loo beyond that, and his own bedroom on the right. The door there was open, too, and it was
brighter there than in the upper hall. It didn't take a great deal of thinking to remember why,
as Harry stepped just past the threshold. While his girlfriend and Succubus followed him into
the room, Remus and Sirius, as quiet as the rest in this most solemn of moments for Harry,
remained silent in the hall, looking in with their own eyes running freely.

Harry pointed woodenly, "That's where my mother fell. He offered her freedom, the chance
to leave, if she abandoned me. She wouldn't. He called her a silly girl, and used the same
curse. Avada Kedavra. Then he turned it on me, and... I remember he hurt, so much pain, but
that's where the memory ended. I don't really remember the night myself. Just a man and then
a woman crying, and a flash of green light with his cold, high voice."

He looked around the room for a few more minutes, moving only his head, as he tried to
reconcile the two and a quarter walls he could see with the most vague memories he
possessed, tried to rebuild what the room had once looked like. There were still toys strewn
about, a two-foot long broom, the magic long faded, half-beneath the crib. He had a picture
of the very same broom, a younger him atop it, being chased by his mother when he was not
even a full year old.

Then Harry turned, pulled his two girls into his arms, and sighed. "Come on, there's nothing
else here. It's just memories."

"Memories suck," Sirius hiccupped, "and none of you saw anything on my face."

Harry grinned a little wanly, "No one saw a thing, Padfoot. Come on, let's go see the graves."

For a while, as they walked, Harry wondered if Lilith was muting his emotions again, but her
whisper in response to his silent question was simple, "No, Master. I wouldn't dare for
something like this. I'm... impressed by your composure, though."

"I don't feel composed," he shot back as they passed the kissing gate, then turned to Sirius
and Remus. "Where are they?"

The werewolf turned to the right and pointed, directly behind the church, to a taller stone
monument than most others around it, and Remus murmured, "The larger one there. Go
ahead, Harry, we can wait."

Hermione tried to take her hand from his as he started walking again, but Harry refused to let
go, tugging her and Lilith along with him. When they reached it, he used his own hands to
scrape free the snow, after which Hermione whipped up a beautiful Christmas wreath with
her wand and laid it against the gravestone.

Here lie James and Lily Potter, gone before their time. They are survived by their son, Harry
James Potter. Then, below that, another note. The Last Enemy that Shall be Conquered is
Death.

"That's from the Bible, I think," Hermione told him as she realized he was reading and re-
reading it, "but I'm not sure what passage."

Harry nodded. It didn't really mean anything to him, but it felt nice to say in regards to his
parents. He wanted to say something, felt it appropriate. But they were not here. There was
more of his parents in Voldemort's wand than there was in the ground beneath their feet. He
could feel it, that their bodies were indeed present, but they were not there. Instead, he only
took Lilith's and Hermione's hands again and continued to look downward at the pure white
marble.

Eventually, Hermione gave his hand a squeeze and stepped forward a few inches without
letting go, then began to speak softly, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. I'm Hermione Granger,
one- one of Harry's girlfriends. I love him. I'll protect him, help him, nurture him, do
everything I can to make you proud of him. I... I wish I could meet you. Your son is an
amazing man, and I... I like to think that you'd be proud of him even if his life is a little
weird."
That was apparently all she'd meant to say, for Hermione stepped back then, leaning into
Harry with her head on his shoulder. He could hear her sniffle, but he was still without tears.
Lilith surprised him next by kneeling in the snow, and putting a hand down into it, uncaring
of the cold, to touch the ground. Her other hand still stayed wrapped in his. "I'm Lilith, I
suppose," she murmured, a bit more hesitantly, sounding almost nervous and strangely tense.
"I'm... a Succubus. We haven't said it, but I suppose I'm another one of Harry's girlfriends. I
belong to him. And I love him, too. I hope you won't object, because I won't give him up. Not
even for his parents. He misses you, every day, even if he doesn't know how to say it. I feel it.
He loves you. I feel that too. Even if he doesn't know how to say that, either. I'll say it for
him. I'll be there to help him as long as I am able. And I wish I could've met both of you,
too."

As she spoke, Harry felt a strange wash of emotion coming closer. It was from outside of
himself, but it was so comforting, so familiar, that he felt it merge with his own essence in a
way he could not make sense of, much less define with words. Almost as if his parents were
suddenly there, when they had so clearly not been a short time ago. Yet, as he pondered,
stretching out with his magic, his more mundane senses, and the magical gifts he had
received from Lilith, Harry realized it wasn't his parents. It was just his mother, her alone.
And it was not coming from the grave.

It was coming from Lilith herself.

A few seconds after she stopped talking, just as Harry realized the source of those emotions,
the feeling began to fade, so quickly that he wondered after a moment if he had been
imagining it.

Some time after they were both done, Harry sighed, dipped his head, but turned his
awareness outward. Perhaps upward, out into the vast universe that whirled and spun
overhead from their limited human perspective. He wasn't really sure. All Harry knew was
that his parents, once more, were not present. But some shard of them existed out there in the
multiverse still, that same core essence that a Horcrux mutilated.

Their souls still existed in some way, somewhere. He knew it.

It was to those souls that Harry finally spoke, his voice cracked and trembling, as tears finally
began to run free. Despite them being not here, Harry suddenly felt closer to them both than
he ever had before. Closer than the Mirror of Erised's false images, of the echoes of them
imprinted on Voldemort's ash-and-phoenix wand through the Killing Curse, closer even than
his dreams. Thus, for the first time, he felt he could speak to his parents, and he could not
bare the thought of passing that opportunity up.

"Mum, Dad. I love you. I don't... have much more to say. I hope you're proud. I miss you.
Yeah, I... I love Hermione, and Ginny, and Lilith, and Pansy and I think I'm in love with
Tracey and Daphne, too, and maybe even Lavender. One day, I... I want you to meet them all.
I want you to meet your grandchildren. I hate that you can't, not while... while you can hold
them close. But one day, we'll see each other again. I know it. And some time, a long time
after that, you'll hold your grandbabies, too, and theirs after that. The Potters aren't done yet.
I'm not done. I'll... stop him. For you. Because you wanted me to be happy, and healthy, and I
can't be while he's around. And I won't stop until he's gone. Once he is, I still... owe you so
much. I owe you grandbabies. I..."

He couldn't say anything else, his throat was suddenly too tight, constricted, full.

In a strange way, it was as if he were Iris, choking on Lilith's dick or something, but the
sensation came from inside, completely the wrong direction, and there was no lust involved.
Instead, the strange feeling of fullness sprung from emptiness inside him.

A place his parents should have been, and were not.

After several seconds, Harry remembered to breathe in a great, shuddering, wracking force of
effort that drove him to his knees in the snow next to where Lilith still knelt.

And he cried, and cried, and did not regret it.

Twenty minutes later, his face covered in a thin sheen of salty ice, Harry stood, and the
hollow spot within him felt... less. Smaller, weaker perhaps, or maybe filled in, but not so
painful as it had been.

Beside him, Hermione and Lilith both stood, the former shivering slightly, and put their arms
around him. He turned with them slowly, to find Remus and Sirius too, their heads bowed,
weeping.

"Come on, you two louts," he murmured, looking at his father's and later his mother's best
friends with a true smile, "Enough weeping for today. Let's go back home."

They did. Fire Whiskey was shared (and freely), but Harry did not much imbibe. He didn't
need to. He could see why some turned to drinking, especially when mourning the dead, but
he was alright. His parents, though they were gone, were safe, together. He knew it, could
feel it.

Somehow, his mother had reached out to him through his Succubus, even if the rosette didn't
even realize it.

She'd sent him her love, and Harry knew.

That was enough, at least until he could see them again.

Boxing Day, too, came and went with much more fanfare and excitement, but very little
drama. A four-hour visit to the Weasley's towering, strange home gave Harry a chance to
catch up with his girlfriend, who was strangely tight-lipped about what she'd been up to, and
Hermione to catch up with her other boyfriend, but Fleur Delacour was no longer there, and
did not appear that day.

So, after a late, massive dinner for the extra guests (one of whom had now left to live with
more distant family), they returned once more to Sirius' home. As usual when there, both
Hermione and Lilith shared Harry's bed, glad for the quiet time together almost as much as
they missed their friends and the varied companionship.
Nearly a week passed after, with Lilith disappearing on 'business' every day just after sunrise
and returning only after dinner, leaving Harry and Hermione to catch up on homework
assignments, make love, or do more casual reading in their own time. Most of that week,
even Sirius was gone on 'Order Business' during the day, something about keeping an eye out
for Death Eaters. He would not elaborate though, even when Harry pressed him.

Harry was expecting another rather boring day with another week and more to go in the
holiday, when Lilith roused he and Hermione before breakfast, "Come on, you two, busy day
today. Up you get!"

Taking advantage of Sirius and his girlfriend, a Muggleborn named Clarissa who Harry had
still barely met and knew very little about since she was rarely there and cooped up in Sirius'
bedroom when she was, having a bit of a lie-in, Lilith went beneath the dining room table to
get her own breakfast from both Hermione and Harry while they ate, then continued chivying
them out the door.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Harry asked after they had reached the mid-way point of the
walk down toward the street, "And how're we getting there."

"Just across town, opposite corner from the other of my kind," Lilith, appearing now as Lilian
Vergot, gestured vaguely toward the west side of the wide valley the town occupied, "and
we're getting there by Shadowstep. Hermione, this might be uncomfortable, but I think we
can keep you safe and healthy. Unless you'd rather take the bus or something."

The witch looked vaguely uncomfortable, but asked, "Er, what- what exactly does your
Shadowstep entail? I know you mentioned it crossing planes...?"

"Not entirely," Lilian explained as they continued to walk for no other reason than it felt
better than standing still, "it's entering the border realm between my plane and this one, but it
isn't fully crossing over. We do the same thing on the other side. At least, those of us capable.
Not everyone is, it's a Power like any other. I, and Master, will be encasing you in our magic,
and then I will be using that connection, mostly through Master, to pull you along with us
when we cross over, and then return."

"That still sounds a little... iffy."

"It's a lot like Apparition, really," Harry told her reassuringly, "Except instead of feeling sort
of squeezed, you feel stretched out, like you're... everywhere, all at once, instead of...
nowhere. Still cold, like Apparition, though."

"W... Well, if you're sure it'll be safe?"

"I'm not certain," the Succubus admitted as she took the human girl's hand, "but reasonably
sure. I wouldn't risk it if there was a chance at real harm. The worst that could happen is you
fail to jump with us and we have to come back. You wouldn't be hurt, just alone for a few
seconds."

"Oh. Well, that doesn't sound too bad," Hermione chuckled, "you made it sound risky."
"Well, there is always the possibility we can do it to get you there, but not to bring you back.
That would... be unpleasant. But the risk is minimal, I promise. I'm brimming with energy
thanks to you two being so randy, and Master is eager to find out what I've been working on
for weeks and weeks."

Hermione's eyebrows rose, "That long?"

The blonde woman nodded, "Actually since the end of summer last year. It's just moving
faster now, and I've finished yesterday. Or at least, finished enough."

"Well, alright, let's go, then," Hermione said, pretending exasperation even though both of
her companions knew full well she was growing excited, too. She took both Lilian's and
Harry's hands as the Succubus circled to the front, and then the world winked out.

For a brief moment, all either human saw was gray.

 Home is Where...

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on SubStar.
Follow my DISCORD link, then go to the "Links in General" channel at the bottom (I don't
believe you even need to have Discord, or be a member, to see that channel- and if you do,
someone PM me and I'll fix it). SubStar's posted up past Chapter 100. So... you know, it's a
long way ahead (they have started the summer after 6th).

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 90 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

MORE SPECIFICALLY related to this chapter: There are MAPS of the location described
in the first half (or more) of this chapter, if you want a more detailed view. They're hand-
drawn by yours truly, and therefore imperfect, but are as close to accurate as one might
possibly need. They are available on SubStar, on Pa Try On (they try so hard...) and on my
DISCORD. :)

Also there are FEELS in this chapter, but not the kind of hard-hitting ones in the last chapter.
You're welcome again. Also smut. Two scenes, though not individually long ones. Enjoy!

Chap. 66: Home is Where...

Featureless, formless, pure-neutral gray. Harry was the first to pick out shapes, for he'd seen
this before a few times. Echoes of another world, more distant than the shimmering outlines
of buildings he was more familiar with, barely visible. There was, in a strange way, motion,
yet they stood still.

And then color again, as the aching, seeping cold he had only just begun to notice was
replaced by a more normal, natural cold of a mid-January day in north-east England. Snow
still covered the roads, and the architectural style had barely changed, but the houses on this
side of the valley were larger, much larger, and more spaced apart. Harry, like his best friend,
looked around the area in surprise. They were near the end of a long lane, only two homes
stood beyond them, and either could qualify as a full-on manor-house to Harry's admittedly
uneducated eye.

"Come on, then," Lilian urged, letting go of their hands as she manifested a familiar-looking
clipboard with several sheets of paper on it, "Just this way, Sir and Ma'am."

Harry followed, Hermione trailing a little behind him with her hand clutched nervously in
his, both feeling a mite anxious. Who would live in such a house like this, and want to meet
him? The only people Harry could think of that would own homes like this were Death
Eaters. But Lilian's affect was calm and soothing, cheerful and business-like. Of course he
trusted her, too.

So he followed up a short walk through an open wrought-iron gate affixed with griffons, of
all things, and along a gravel drive that had only a light dusting of snow on it, as if it had
been swept clean just the day before. The house was splendid, Harry decided, but acceptably
understated. There were crenellations and vines creeping along some of the walls, but nothing
ostentatious, and the circular drive moved around a fountain that was neither too large nor too
small, but fit it well. Hedge-rows separated the front yard from a much larger one in the back,
and a single black car whose make he couldn't tell sat in the snow without tracks, but was
itself slightly covered in white below the long porch, which covered the entire front of the
large, three-story building.

"Er..."

Lilian ignored his nervous noise, and marched briskly up the stairs, then turned to wait at the
side of the door for them to catch up. A few seconds later, she pulled the single-rope doorbell,
which jingled softly with a pleasant noise, and then reached over to push open the well-
decorated, dark walnut doors open and stepped aside again, "Welcome home, Harry."

He gaped, more at her words than the again understated but very tastefully decorated hall he
and Hermione now faced. "This... what?"

Another soft laugh, familiar but unexpected, broke Harry's daze. That was the first time he
spotted Fleur Delacour in more than two weeks, and the sight took his breath away even as it
made his loins ache for more attention, even though he'd just gotten off less than half an hour
before. She was stunning, as always, the very picture of feminine beauty. And dressed in the
too-cliche, very inaccurate 'French Maid' costume he imagined was every bloke's fantasy. Her
skirt didn't even hide the curve of her bum in profile completely, it rode so high, and the
cleavage may as well have let her breasts pop out with as much as they hid, while the corset
below the apron pulled her already spectacular figure into an even more jaw-dropping curve.

In one hand she held her wand, and in the other, a feather duster, while she sported a pleased,
happy smile, "Welcome 'ome, Master 'Arry, and welcome to Potter Manor, Madamoiselle
Grangaire, Madame Lilianne."

Again, Harry was floored. With a great deal of mental effort, he tore his eyes from the vision
of high-class sexual fantasy and turned to Lilian, unable to fully process what they were
saying. "Er... what do you mean, Potter Manor? By... well, home?"

Lilian made him wait while she shut the door and turned an old-fashioned key that looked
like it was made of polished silver, but left it in the door's lock, then stepped around him and
further into the hall. Walking backward in the direction of a wide staircase that rose up on the
left, she opened her arms to indicate the space at large, "This is my way of making up for
many years of missed birthdays and Christmases, Master. I know I wasn't a part of your life
back then, but you deserve so much more. I hope you don't mind that I spent your money to
do it."
Harry shook his head in disbelief. Not about the money, he didn't care about that as long as he
wasn't destitute, but this... "I... what do you mean?"

Next to him, Hermione's hands were now both covering her mouth as she wept silently, her
own eyes spinning from one feature of the tasteful, yet obviously wealthy decor of the
entrance hall. Fleur, her eyes shining with amusement and glee both, lifted the hand that held
her wand to her mouth to cover a giggle. "I told you 'e would react like zis, Lilianne."

The Succubus in human form laughed quietly, then changed direction abruptly, walking
briskly toward Harry to put her hands on her shoulders, and explained quietly, "I know it
doesn't replace your family, your parents, any siblings you might've had, Master. And I know
this isn't the place you wanted to grow up in. I can't change what's in the past. But I can help
you build a better future. That's what we Contracted for, remember?"

"I... that was for Voldemort," he murmured quietly, more confused than before, "And, well...
because I was randy."

All three of the women giggled again, then Lilian pulled him in for a gentle kiss that set his
blood boiling anyway before she pulled away and took one of his hands in both of hers.
"Master, you want Voldemort gone because he killed your parents, but also because you don't
want him or his ilk to do the same thing they did to you, to anyone else. That's building a
better world. That was all I needed to know to be happy with your Contract. Since then, I've
come to learn more about you and why you want that. It's so much deeper. Do you want me
to tell you why? What I mean by building a better world?"

Still confused, Harry nodded, while Hermione rejoined his side and slipped her hand back
into his free one, entwining their fingers together.

"It's because I know how you treat the women you love," the Succubus replied quietly, her
eyes earnest, "and how you dream of what could be with them. Remember I know your
dreams, Master. I know what makes you smile in the night, and it isn't something warm and
wet around your cock... as fun as that is. That is the better world you envision. It's a dream I
share. This is the only way I can help you with that dream."

"And what iz zat dream?" Fleur asked, still in the same spot a few feet away, but looking at
Harry as if she wanted nothing more than to join the other two at his side.

Harry choked. He knew exactly what Fleur was asking about, what Lilian was speaking of. "I
want a family," he forced out through the renewed lump in his throat, stronger even than
when he was at his parents' grave. "I want... to give my children... the life I didn't... that I
didn't get."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sobbed, twisting to throw her arms around him, her weeping
intensifying against his chest.

Fleur broke too, all amusement gone from her, replaced by a soft whimper as the duster fell
to the highly-polished hardwood floor and she ran toward them, embracing all three of the
others in a wide hug.
Lilian did not let go of his hand, and said softly, "I can't give you most of that, Master. But I
can give you a place to raise that family you want so badly. Potter Manor isn't the home your
grandparents owned, passed down through the generations. But it is the newest version of
that. It will be a place for you to bring the women that you love. A place to raise your
children. To fill with smiles, and laughter, and tears, and love. It is your home, Master. It
belongs to you."

"My home," Harry tried to say, though he feared it garbled past the continually-swelling
lump. "My home? My... my home. My... home. No... this is a house." Lilian, for a moment,
looked almost hurt. "You are my home," he finished finally, "All of you. This may be our
house, where we raise our family, but it will always be those I love that are my real home."

Harry could not even say if he loved Fleur. But holding her close with Hermione and Lilian
felt right, just as he knew it would with Pansy, Ginny, and probably Daphne or Tracey or
Lavender. He held them all, as they held him, for several more minutes there in the entryway,
before the Succubus showed him once more how well she knew him, and pulled free the
moment Harry thought about it to wipe away her own tears.

"Ready for the tour?"

After the rest had composed themselves a bit more, Fleur trailed behind, while Hermione
kept holding his hand as Lilian, the clipboard back in her hand as the Succubus pretended to
read from it as a realtor would showing off a house. On the left from the entryway, Harry
found a large dining hall or conference room, with three long tables and a shorter high table,
arranged much like the Great Hall in Hogwarts, with a huge fireplace against the wall
opposite the door. "This is the only active Floo connection," Lilith told them, "but we can
hook up others later if you want. I was thinking it would be best for guests or parties to have
dinner in, and that side door leads to the kitchen through a hallway that also has a pantry
door. Over across the hall here..."

"Oh my," Hermione gasped. It wasn't full, most shelves were empty in fact, but the room,
easily equal to the one on the opposite side of the entry hall, was clearly meant to be either a
small library or a very large study, for it was lined with book-cases and shelves on all sides,
from floor to ceiling. A few free-standing cases in the center were more full, and a ring of
smaller tables with two to four comfortable-looking chairs took up the corners of the room.
"Hermione's favorite room," Lilian teased with an amused smile, "that side door leads to a
little closet the previous owners used as a book-binding and repair shop. I asked the
repairmen to leave it in place when they did the reworking. Just in case you're interested."

"I," Hermione gasped, "That's... I mean, this is Harry's house, not..."

She blushed at Harry's almost annoyed-looking glance in her direction, but it was nothing
compared to what he actually said a moment later. "Hermione Granger, if you think for one
moment you aren't going to be part of my family, or that I wouldn't want you to have a least
one child with me, then you are sadly mistaken. Who you marry is up to you. But I love you,
and I want to have a family with you in every sense of the word. Please don't ever question
that again. This is your home, too, for as long as you want it."
She swallowed, her eyes swimming with tears again, and then she launched herself into his
arms like a bushy-haired lioness, and kissed him so passionately even Fleur was fanning
herself, red-faced, as she pulled away. Then Hermione got a bit of revenge of her own, or
tried at least. "Just one, Harry? I was thinking two for you and two for..."

Harry only smirked and pulled her against him again, pressing his body into hers in a way
that he knew drove Hermione wild, and growled into her ear through her mane of bushy hair,
"To start... but at least one, my love."

"Before you start working on that goal now, we should probably continue on," Lilian teased,
brushing past the two with a giggling Fleur in tow, to pass the stairs and enter the main
intersection on the lower floor.

The left wing, which went south, held the kitchen, a smaller, more intimate dining room on
the opposite side, a washroom that was outfitted with not just one but three pairs of very
modern-looking clothes washers and dryers, and long shelves full of linens over a folding
table that hugged the opposite wall. Beyond that was what looked like a small classroom,
outfitted with a dozen desks and a whiteboard that had never been used by the look of it, with
a room outfitted like a much smaller version of the Room of Requirement's setup for the D.A.
Opposite those rooms were an art studio with a few easels and blank canvasses set up, and a
conservatory that made Harry grin, for it was filled with shrubs and trees already, growing in
the warm room despite it being midwinter. I might even enjoy a bit of gardening, if I'm not
doing it for Petunia.

From there, Lilian lead them down the shorter hallway that continued from the entry hall,
which held a pair of small studies on the right with a larger one further north in that hallway,
and a massive, multi-person bathroom that looked more like a modern version of Hogwarts'
communal loos, with six fully-enclosed toilet stalls, six sinks with their own mirrors and
hand-towel stands with built-in soap dispensers, and even a trio of enclosed shower cubicles
on the far wall.

He thought that last bit was a bit strange at first, until Lilian lead them out the glass double-
doors at the end of the hall into a spacious entertaining deck, complete with a huge brick-and-
stone cooking grill, a circular, inset firepit with benches around it beyond that, and enough
space for a small dancing floor, all paved in smooth stone and tile on left of a flagstone path
which was itself covered by an awning to keep it mostly free of snow, was a greenhouse with
all-glass walls, like the conservatory, which held a... a swimming pool.

"An indoor pool?" Harry gasped.

Lilian nodded, "That and the party area here are new, the previous owners didn't have
anything like that, but I figured since this was still mostly a muggle area, it would give
children a healthy activity to do without flying around on brooms."

"That's amazing," Harry murmured. Beyond that, he could see that the flagstone path
continued, branching off into a hedge-maze that towered over even where the Triwizard
Tournament's third task had gone, though he suspected it was more peaceful by far, up into
the forested hillside, and through a currently snow-covered flower garden that must have
spread over two acres, all with a wide-open, mostly-flat lawn between them, plenty of wide-
open space for children to play. Trees stood in rows along the edges of what Harry guessed
were the property, with a single large cluster growing around a gazebo in the middle, half-
way down the flagstone path to the woods.

He could only gape in awe for several minutes, unable to comprehend living in a place like
this, with so much luxury already. He had known his parents were fairly wealthy, but the way
Lilian had talked about using his money to buy this house was starting to make him wonder if
he was now poor. It must have cost a fortune, even if others had owned it before.

He was yanked out of those musings as Hermione tugged on his arm, following Lilian and
Fleur back into the house. The northern wing, he soon found, was lined with bedrooms along
the entire hall, which was as long as the southern. The rooms were tastefully outfitted too,
with a queen-sized four-poster, half with curtains and half without, standing wardrobes,
dressers, and an offset loo and shower for each room. "These are meant to be room for
service staff or guests," Lilian explained as they entered the hall and she opened the first
door, "they're a little smaller than the rooms upstairs, but I've made sure each has plenty to be
comfortable. They're better-appointed than the side rooms in your quarters at Hogwarts, at
least."

"They're great," Harry assured her, taking a long look at the first room. They breezed through
the rest, finding them very similar in size, layout, and style. Even the paintings on the walls
(most not-moving, though he noticed a few did) were similar, neutral, almost hotel-like.

From there, Lilian lead the way upstairs to the second floor, taking them to the shorter west
hall first. Another pair of bathrooms, one on each side, sported two more toilets, two sinks,
and two fully enclosed showers with claw-footed, free-standing bathtubs between them easily
large enough to hold two people.

The northern hall was again filled with bedrooms, two less on each side. They were similar to
the ones on the ground floor but larger, and had one wall and a bit more of another corner
free of furniture, which Lilian explained was available for the room's occupant or occupants
to fill with personal belongings.

On the south side of the large home, Harry was pleasantly surprised to find more communal
spaces, some of which shocked even Hermione. The first large room, over the dining room,
was a small movie theater, complete with what Harry guessed was around thirty seats in an
amphitheater-like space, clearly magically expanded since it depressed into what would have
been the lower room by several feet. The screen, which seemed to be back-lit for there was
no projection booth as far as he could see, was set into the wall and the size of the Dursley's
living room wall by his best guess. "We haven't gotten you a huge movie collection yet,"
Lilian explained after stepping into the room, "but my understanding is that nearly anything
you could ask for is available on request, if you just wait a few days for it to arrive.
Something about muggle delivery services for movies, I forget the name of the company that
does it. But a certain someone who's been helping me with this project- without knowing all
the details, so don't ask- helped me set this one up. They said you'd like it."

"I've... never been to a movie house," Harry admitted quietly, his eyes roving the chamber
slowly, taking in the simple decor with awe.
"Well, they look a lot like this, only bigger," Hermione told him with an equally soft smile,
her eyes shining, "And before you ask, no, I had no idea. It must've been someone else. But
now that I think of it... we have a lot of catching up to do as far as movies go, Harry Potter.
Expect to use this room often."

"Good," he chuckled, pulling her in for another kiss, "I'm looking forward to it. What do you
want to bet me that once we show Ron what movies are, he'll never want to leave?"

"I'm not taking that bet," she laughed.

With another smile, Lilian brushed past them again, back out into the hall. Further down, they
found a dance or perhaps gymnastics hall, one corner of which was filled with brand-new
workout equipment, and the longest, far wall lined with mirrors and a hand-bar, which
seemed to double the size of the room. There were also mats of a sort Harry knew from
primary school that he'd rarely used, stacked up in the corner next to the equipment, and a
few shelves full of other strange items he didn't immediately recognize. "Just a general-
purpose exercise room," Lilian said cheerfully, "with room to dance, or do aerobics,
gymnastics, or whatever people are doing to stay healthy these days. I'm told the equipment
is all state-of-the-art, but I haven't tried it myself. Some of the pieces only came in yesterday,
thanks to holiday shipping delays. Come on, there's still more."

Opposite that, a drawing room of sorts sported a few more bookcases, very comfortable-
looking couches and chairs, and a serving table that held an ornate, expensive-looking tea set
with oriental symbols and painting on it that Harry couldn't pin down with any more detail
than that. Back toward the center of the home, opposite the theater, Lilian gave him a
significant look before opening the door, this time from the outside, to give Harry the chance
to enter first.

Once again, he lost all ability to speak.

The room was painted in pastel blues and pinks, with a series of white dressers alternating
with cribs, at the foot of which were small chests, each with a stack of very soft-looking
blankets on them. Two cribs and their accompanying furniture, including a rocking chair each
for mothers, stood on either side, with one pink and one blue linen set on each side.

The implications made the implied promise he had given Hermione suddenly seem much
more real, present, and in the moment. Not for the first time, images of himself surrounded
by beautiful women that he loved, and that loved him in return, filled Harry's mind. In his
imagination, children swarmed around them, laughing, crying, playing, living. Experiencing
the childhood that he never had, in a home full of people who loved them with everything
they had.

Harry fell to his knees just inside the door, his body wracked with silent agony once more at
everything he had lost. But this room represented so much more. After just a few seconds, he
was crying not out of pain, but out of the sheer, overwhelming force of...

He could not name it.

It was too much.

"Master," Lilian said softly as he struggled with himself to express just how grateful he was
to her, sinking to her own knees next to him and putting a hand on his back gently, "this room
represents everything you have never had the chance to believe in for the future. It represents
hope. It is the most important room in this house, for the time being. But there will come a
time when even this significance pales. You have so much capacity for love, and you deserve
so much of it in return. I promise you this, Master. You will survive this war. Your enemy
will fall. You will have a chance to fill this room. I don't know the future, so I can't promise
that you will do so with any one person. But together, we will defeat him, and in time, the
halls of this house will ring with joy and happiness. Because we love you, Harry James
Potter."

He hiccupped, and sobbed again, nodding. Without looking, and he couldn't have seen
anyway through his tears, Harry's arms blindly sought out her waist, and Hermione's on the
other side, while the hands on his back were replace by Fleur, who was tall enough to lean
over him and press a kiss to the back of his head.

They stayed like that for a long time. How long, Harry could not have said, but resolve
continued to work within Harry as his tears of happiness and yes, Lilith had said it correctly,
hope, dried. No one felt the need to say more. But Harry felt that something deep within him
had changed fundamentally when he stood up, the girls a little slower but happy and smiling
as he was.

This was not a superficial gesture of material things that Lilith had given him.

Nor was it just a house to live in while his children grew.

No, she was very right. This was a shelter from the storms of the outside world. It was a
symbol of safety, of hope, of refuge. It was a place of laughter and happiness and joy and
togetherness and... and everything that made up a family home, tears and all. It was the
physical representation of belonging in a place. Like Hogwarts, it was home.

He had been to blind to see it before. Now, standing in the doorway of his future children's
nursery, Harry could already hear the giggles of babies as their mothers played with them,
older children downstairs or in the room down the hall, perhaps out the window in the back
yard. Laughing, running, playing.

He realized what had been causing the choking sensation in Godric's Hollow then, for he felt
it again now, but even more acutely.

It was his heart. Not literally, of course, but the feeling of regret at things lost was not why he
ached now. And it was a good ache, anyway. No... he didn't want to wait. He would, of
course, he knew they were all too young to be having children willy-nilly. Probably not while
Voldemort still lived, unless he was obligated by Contract to do so. But soon enough.

When he stepped out of the nursery, there had been a few profound changes in Harry from
before he had entered it. First and foremost in his mind, though perhaps of least significance,
was that Harry Potter no longer questioned if he was going to be able to defeat Voldemort. It
didn't matter if he could. What mattered is that he would. There was no room in him for
doubt. The future he dreamed of must come to pass, and therefore it would. There was simply
no other option.

He had also resolved to make sure those he loved (and not just the girls) knew it. He wasn't
about to go spout his undying devotion to Ron, but he no longer cared to be 'manly'. It was
now a waste of his time to hide his emotions and leave things unsaid. Life was too short for
that sort of fear to stop him.

Lastly, Harry had decided that he no longer wanted to be an Auror. It was definitely a worthy
pursuit, there was no question of that, but it was not for him, not anymore. I don't think
Professor McGonagall will object when I tell her I'm going to have to get her to break her
promise to Umbridge, though. Not after I tell her why.

No... as worthy as fighting Dark Wizards was, Harry Potter wanted to do something even
more meaningful.

"Thank you," he murmured to each of the three women present, looking them in the eyes for
a few moments each, and then leaned in to kiss them. Lilian only smiled back at him happily,
no doubt feeling what was in his heart already. Hermione beamed back, her own eyes
swimming with tears still, and nearly crushed his ribs with another hug.

But Fleur was taken aback, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry," he murmured after, "I just..."

"Non," Fleur objected, her fingertips brushing her soft lips where his had just been, cheeks
bright pink, "I only... I did not expect... zat. I am not angry, 'Arry."

He smiled then, and leaned in to kiss her again, more briefly. "Then I hope you don't mind if I
keep doing it."

She shook her head slowly, seeming almost dazed, then stepped back and smoothed out her
ruffled maid uniform, and gave a little cough. They had kissed before of course, but it had
always been in the throes of passion, wild and heated. He had never before kissed her like
he... he...

But no, that was mad, idle thinking. Fleur knew better. He desired her, and she him, of
course. That was a given. But he already loved so many women, and they barely knew each
other. It couldn't be... he had only kissed her tenderly in the heat of the moment.

That was all she would allow herself to think. It was all she dared.

After finding herself in love with Bill Weasley, she did not believe there could be another,
and certainly not so soon. After all, what did she and Harry really have in common, for all
that she was utterly devoted to him anyway?

No... it was just the tenderness of the moment. That was all.

She was sure of it.

Fleur shook her had again, trying to clear it of these thoughts, as the house she'd been helping
Lilith set up for a few weeks now was shown off a bit more.
The upper floor, Harry wasn't exactly shocked to see, was full of more bedrooms, including a
master suite easily as large as the quarters at Hogwarts, with a huge ensuite bathroom, this
one with an inset, jacuzzi-style tub and triple-headed shower. Three doors beside that one
lead to separate walk-in closets, only one of which had any clothes at all. "Those should fit
perfectly, Master, since I can see you daily."

"Er... thanks. I'm not sure when I'll ever wear such fancy things, but..."

Harry didn't honestly know what to think. Just imagining taking the plastic covering off the
first item he'd looked at made his face heat. Actually wearing a tuxedo... he couldn't wrap his
brain around it.

Hermione and Fleur on the other hand, looked at each other after a moment and they both
sets of eyebrows raised as their faces heated. They had no problems imagining Harry dressed
in a tuxedo, none at all. And they liked what they imagined. But one of Harry's favorite
features about the master bedroom was the decor. Like the rest of the house, it was filled with
dark or warm woods, and exuded a classy, understated elegance. But the wall facing the bed
was covered in five banners that made his heart swell once more. On the four outer ones were
what looked like the official Hogwarts House Banners, all four of them in the same order
they were displayed in at Hogwarts itself in the Great Hall. But the center, which would
normally be where the Hogwarts Crest hung, was a very different one.

"You hung it here? Oh, Lilith..."

Harry blinked at Hermione's words, then looked from the coat of arms to his girlfriend, and
then the Succubus, who now beamed as Hermione had earlier. "I felt it appropriate. After all,
the next generation will as likely begin in this room as anywhere else. Do you want to tell
him what it is?"

"Oh, I... I... I would've said, Harry, but I didn't know she'd- that she would... well, Harry..."

"Go on," he murmured quietly, unable to take his eyes off of it. Black and white symbols lay
on the shield, a helmet turned three-quarters to the left, beautiful and graceful but clearly built
for practicality and function more than style. Three wands crossed above it, while leaves and
branches stretched to surround it. Below it, a single word on a banner: Potter.

"She asked me, the day after your birthday this summer," Hermione said after a moment to
collect her thoughts, "what your family's crest was. It took some digging, but... that's it. The
original crest, as it was known in the thirteen hundreds, as best I can tell. It cost a fair few
pounds to have this one made, because the original coat of arms was lost centuries ago, but...
we're starting your family over anyway."

"My... family? That's the Potter Coat of Arms?"

She nodded.

Harry had felt a great many things over the last weeks, since leaving school. Anger, rage,
betrayal, fury, anguish and hopelessness, and that was all just the first day after leaving the
train. The last few days were filled with almost the opposite of that, as he had visited with his
parents graves, seen the house where he should have grown up, and now this.

But this last gesture, arranged still by Lilith with help from Hermione...

"You have no idea," he murmured, stepping away from them to raise one hand, resting it
lightly in the center of the black and white shield. He had never, not once, felt so connected
to the Potters that had gone before, not even when he'd seen the old man from whom he had
inherited his knobbly knees in the Mirror of Erised. "Lilith... this place."

He stopped talking, used his free hand to wipe tears from his eyes once more, then looked
back over his shoulder at her, the kindest, most gentle smile she had ever seen on him
spreading across his face as his soul was laid bare once more. "I... this is the Potter home.
Future, present, and past. I can't... I can't ever thank you enough for this. For everything."

"What you don't understand, Master," she sniffled a little herself, momentarily reverting to
her default form as her control wavered under the onslaught of not just his but her own
emotions, "is that this is all my thanks for you."

"Agree to disagree then," he whispered, and finally pulled down his hand to wrap the small
form in his arms, holding her close against him. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I never
even... considered something like this. It's so much... it means so much to me... I could never
say. Not in a thousand years."

"But I feel it," she reminded him quietly, pressing her forehead into his chest, "I am one with
you, Master. I know."

After a few minutes, she pulled away, wiped more tears, and then grew back into Lilian
Vergot once more. "Now, Master, I was originally thinking the women could have the upper
floor rooms since they're the biggest, because obviously not everyone will be in here all the
time, and everyone needs their personal space. Children can go in the lower rooms, and if
you have enough we can double or triple them up. But it's up to you what we do, of course.
That was just my initial thoughts."

"It sounds perfect," he chuckled, his voice still a bit shaky from his own overwhelming
emotions. "Is there more?"

"Well, there's the basement, but it's mostly unused as of yet. There's a potions workshop that
isn't stocked yet, and a cellar with quite a bit of food that will last a while, just in case, along
with the water tanks for storage, also just in case. Not too much else. Up on the roof, which is
accessible through the balcony out the south hall, you can get to a deck, but there isn't
anything up there but turret with a telescope in it. It's a spectacular view of the valley, though.
And yes, you can see Sirius' house."

He chuckled, "We'll have to check it out later. I'm knackered. All this is... it's a lot."

"Well, we do have time for a kip," Hermione told him, glancing at her watch, "it's not yet
eleven, and we didn't tell Sirius when we would be back. We could have a lie-down and then
a late lunch before heading back. Maybe something in town?"
"Zat sounds amazing," Fleur murmured, then blinked her long eyelashes at Harry, "but I waz
'oping, eef eet iz not too much troubel, for... not exzactly a nap wizh you, 'Arry. At least, not
at fairst."

He blinked, the subtle, quiet desire in the half-Veela's voice reminding him that it had been
more than a few hours since he'd had an orgasm. "Er... well, I think I can manage that," he
chuckled, "That is, if Hermione and Lilian don't mind."

The Succubus shook her head, the long, thick blonde hair waving gently as she put a hand
around Hermione's waist, "No, I'm perfectly fine with that, Master, I'm well fed once again. I
think I'd like to...have a discussion with Hermione in the library downstairs. About which
books to stock, among... other things."

"Like what?" Hermione teased right back, "I know you don't need another copy of the Kama
Sutra. And I'm still straight."

"But you still love it when I go down on you," the taller woman replied with a confident
smile, "and you've yet to see what Lilian is like in bed, dear. Perhaps you'd like to pull out
that purple wand and try it out on me, in turn."

"Mm... I suppose," Hermione admitted with a grin and a glance at Harry, who looked eager
now to join them, instead, "but after we discuss the books. Come on, lover. 'Bye Harry, 'bye
Fleur. See you later. Just come down when you're ready, I'm sure we'll be long done before
you are. Maybe we'll just order delivery..."

The door shut, cutting off further conversation between the two, and Harry turned to Fleur,
who looked back at him shyly despite the brazenly erotic outfit she was wearing. "If zhey
order pizza, I am afraid eet will go straight to my 'ips, 'Arry."

"Your hips have nothing to worry about," he chuckled, letting his eyes roam over her once
more. If anything, she looked even better dressed like this than she had in her swimsuit
during the Triwizard's second task. But it could still be improved. Before that, though... "So,
was the outfit your choice, or hers?"

"Well, I am French," the older girl said with a pleased smile, smoothing the too-short skirts a
bit, "and I do not find zis stereotype... unappealing, even eef eet iz very... inaccurate. Zhe
only azked me what I would like to wear, and I zaid zomet'ing like zis. I approve very much...
for you, 'Arry. I would not dress like zis for just anyone. But I can tell zat you like it."

He followed her eyes down to his crotch, then looked back up at her with a happy smile of
his own, "Well, what can I say. I sometimes can't help it, especially when I'm around a
gorgeous person like yourself. Horny teenager, you understand."

"You 'ave changed so much, 'Arry," she suddenly laughed, throwing her head back in mirth,
"You are a far cry indeed from zat 'leetle boy' I met two years ago. I... can we talk? About...
usz? Before... I do want to get to more, but..."

"You're anxious," he concluded when she trailed off, looking away. "You are unsure where
you'll fit in my life. Am I right?"
She nodded, more shy than he'd ever seen her before, but said nothing.

Harry crossed the room to her place by the door still, took her hand, and gently lead her to the
bed, which they sat down on. It was soft, airy, but not too soft, he decided. Enough to sink
into a bit and be quite comfortable, but not to lose yourself in. Perfect for sex and sleeping,
he thought. He pulled her hand into his lap and held it close while they half-faced each other,
and gave her a serious look. "I can't actually answer that question, because that dynamic- you
can blame Lilith for me sounding like I know what I'm talking about if I do, which I doubt- is
still changing. So let's clear the air, I think we definitely need to do that. Do you want to go
first, or should I?"

"Go ahead," she demurred.

As he started talking, Harry noticed quickly that while she was definitely listening, the older
witch's eyes kept moving down to his mouth as she licked her lips, keeping them moist for,
he guessed, more kissing. He couldn't blame her, watching Fleur Delacour's mouth was
something he loved doing, too. Now that they had kissed in a more romantic way than
sexual... he could not wait to do it again. But there would be time. That door, he hoped,
would not close again now that it was open. "I... feel bad, for ripping you from Bill. That
wasn't my intention, or Lilith's."

"I know."

He nodded, "But at the same time, I would be lying if, even back in fourth year, I didn't
dream about... being with you. I'm sure you know I wasn't the only one."

"Non," Fleur laughed softly, giving his hand a squeeze, "Your friend Ron... he may 'ave been
ze most brazen, but I received many offers to ze Yule Ball. I only considered Rogair, but I
regret zat very much now. 'E was... not well-suited for me. I was a silly girl 'o did not stop to
zhink zat zere were people out zere 'o might be able to... 'andle me."

Harry snorted with amusement too, well remembering the dopey, besotted expression on
Roger Davies' face before the dancing had begun that night. "Still, when you came to me at
the Burrow... I couldn't say no. I was just as lost as you were. I'm still sorry... that it happened
like that."

Fleur patted the hands still holding hers with her other one, and shook her head. "Non, 'Arry,
do not zhink like zat. Zhe... method may 'ave not been ideal, but I do not regret being whiz
you zhat day. I only regret zhat it 'urt Beel, and zhat 'e must now learn to love anozzer."

"What about you, though," Harry asked quietly, his eyes watching hers carefully.

Fleur gave a little half-shrug, looking down at their encircled hands for a moment while she
thought about her answer. "I know what kind of man you are," she eventually said, quieter
than before, speaking slowly and carefully so that she didn't mess up her words in what was,
to her, a secondary language. "I know zhat you are zhe kind of man I can love freely. I know
zhat you do love, zho many. Ze way she, Leeleeth, talks of you, and zhe way zhe feels for
you in 'er 'eart... if zhe can love you, zhen I can. I do not... know eef I do. But I could, 'Arry. I
could fall for you verey easily. I... I do not want you to feel pression... ah, pressure to zay
zhat you love me, 'Arry. Pleeze do not evair zhay zhose words to me unlesz you mean them.
But zhat is 'ow I feel right now. I do not 'ave a better answer."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Thank you for your honesty. That takes... a lot of courage,
sometimes."

She smiled wanly, still showing quite a bit of nerves, but didn't withdraw her hands from his.
Instead, Fleur sat there quietly, clearly waiting for his reply. Like her, Harry took a bit to
consider his words and phrasing, but even more to think about what he actually felt. "I
absolutely love shagging you," he eventually decided, "because you are great at it, beautiful,
and all that. I would... I would love to make tender love with you more. But there's... there's
so much more to it."

To her credit, Fleur did not seem either annoyed or overly proud of his first statements, which
encouraged Harry to continue, "Like... we're friends. Right? I know we don't know each other
all that well, but we do have quite a bit of common interest, I think. Just... magic, for one, and
I don't mean just being a wizard and a witch. I feel like you're fascinated with magic itself,
how it works, and you love to learn about it. Am I right?"

Fleur smiled widely with a quick nod, "Yez, 'Arry. I am not ze... a... a book-wairm, like your
friend 'Ermione, but I do love to learn, ezpecially about magic."

"I do, too," he grinned, "but I don't read like Hermione. Nobody reads like Hermione."

"Zhe is somezhing else," Fleur added, "And yesz, I believe we are... friends, 'Arry."

"Good. Well, that's something to build on, then, if nothing else. Friends... with some benefits.
Ones we both enjoy, if nothing else. What about... a family? Do you want one? I mean, of
your own. Children."

"Why, zhat is... 'ow do zhey say eet... 'jumping zee gunz', I zhink? Is it not, 'Arry?"

He groaned as Fleur laughed again, but jerked in surprise as she hastily leaned forward and
kissed him again while he was distracted. After pulling back, she murmured against his
mouth, "I will not object when you want to have leetle babies whiz me, 'Arry. Maybe only
one or two for me, zho. I like my figure, you zhee."

"I do too," he assured her, kissing her back before she could sit up straight again, "And that's
more we have in common. We both think you're stunning."

After another round of chuckles, he grew a bit more serious as he returned to the matter at
hand. "Anyway, no, I don't feel... like I'm in love with you. Not like I am with Hermione, or
Lilith, or Ginny, or the others that I am. I like you, quite a lot. And more every minute of this
conversation, it seems. I... wouldn't have expected your sense of humor, but I have to admit
it's attractive."

"I am glad, 'Arry, because I refuse to be a... zhrinking violette. I do not whizh to 'ide myself
whiz you."
"Then don't. Be yourself, please. That's more than enough, I promise. One day, yes, we'll
have a child or two, if you still want to. As for love... like you, I can definitely see myself
there, but I am not there yet, I don't think. We'll just have to... wait and see, won't we?"

"Maybe we can encourage it," she exhaled breathily. "I know eet iz... not zho long after Beel.
A few monthz. But I am not... I am impatient to be 'appy again, and I know zhat zhince 'e and
I cannot be... I feel no need to wait."

"I think I understand," Harry told her, giving the hand still held between his a soft squeeze.
"As for where you'd fit... I really can't say. I've only ever told a few of the girls that I love
them. Some of them that I sleep with I have Concubine Contracts for, or at least some in the
planning stages. There are more with that, too. Apparently I'm not just Wizarding Britain's
most eligible bachelor, but its most eligible stud horse, too."

"You are a stud," she shot right back, glanced down at his crotch again, "And a bit like a
'orse, too, yesz."

That made Harry roll his eyes, though he appreciated the compliments, and showed her so by
kissing her again. "But that just means that no one really knows where they'll fit. I certainly
don't. I'm... not the kind of person who likes to tell people where they belong. Turns out I'm a
'top', but I don't like commanding... at least, outside of the bedroom. There, it... it comes
naturally."

"I would have guessed zhat," Fleur murmured, oddly shy once again, "I am a bit of a 'top'
myzhelf, but I would zhay I am more what zhe muggles call a szwitch. Top, bottom, eizher...
I only love everyzhing."

"Sounds tough," he chuckled at her false-rueful grin.

"Eet doez 'ave eets moments. Szexual education and experiance is szhomething Veela and
zheir relatives are known for, aftair all, and not whizzout reason."

"Stereotypes are that for a reason, usually," he admitted. "But that does give us a chance to
figure things out as we go. Just like in the rest of life, I suppose. That makes me want to ask,
though, where do you want to be in this... well, family, I guess?"

Fleur blinked, apparently surprised by the question, or maybe his word for the hypothetical
arrangement. "I... 'ave not considered zhat," she murmured, "Perhaps... az ze szexy maid?"

He snorted, and took his almost too-warm top hand from Fleur to slip it around her corseted
waist, then drop lower to cup her bum through the skirts, "You know that's not what I meant,
but you can play that role whenever you want," he growled.

She shuddered against him, but looked away, clearly embarrassed but not at all put off by his
actions. "I... I know. I do not know, 'Arry. I am zhorry. I do not expect to... be your bride. I
would be 'appy just to... be here, whiz you, and occasionally 'zshag'. Pairhaps not zo
'occasionally'."
Harry shook his head slowly, "That may be the case, Fleur, but if you're going to be here, you
will not be here as a servant I'm having sex with. You will be part of my family."

"I told you," she hiccupped, wiping away a few sudden tears and smiling shakily at him, "I
told you I could love you, 'Arry... saying zhings like zhat. Eet makes a girl go weak in zhe
knees, you know?"

"It's a good thing you're sitting down, then."

Her grin shifted to amusement at his too-earnest statement. "I... I zhuppose I would... be a...
not a concubine. An... affair? A complicit affair, known to all? I do not know zhe word, not
even in French. Ah..."

"You would be my lover, if nothing else," he eventually said to break her train of thought if
nothing else. "Mine, and... stop me if I'm wrong, but ... whoever else shares my bed?"

Fleur blushed again, and nodded, "I am not... particulair. I am a... I forget zhe word again. I
do like pleazure."

Harry had a reasonable guess, based on what he knew of her, that like Hermione Fleur was a
Sensualist, but didn't want to say the word aloud. "Alright. Well... let me tell you a bit about
how we've been going on with... that sort of thing. Maybe it will help us find your place."

She nodded, "Go on."

"My lovers are my lovers," he began simply, "but I don't... own them. Hermione is my
girlfriend, and Ron's, and that's something we decided between us. No jealousy. Lilith sleeps
with them both regularly. Ginny... well, tell me if this is too much for you. In fact, always tell
me if something is too much for you. Consent is key... unless you tell me explicitly you don't
want it to be. Ginny is also my girlfriend, and she regularly sleeps with Lilith, Hermione, our
friend Neville, and has been with a few other guys. Everyone in mine and Ron's dorm, at
least, and maybe a few more. She's... also getting a bit intimate with Ron."

"'Er brozzair?"

Harry was surprised, not by the question (he had expected something after dropping that
bombshell on her), but by the completely non-judgmental tone, like it was no big deal at all
to her. He nodded once, "Yes. Is... that a problem?"

"Non," Fleur said, seeming quite honest, genuinely sincere. "I am aware eet iz not... well,
soscially acczeptable, but I do not care. Eet eez not my businesz. Bezides, for Veela... at leazt,
full Veela, it mattairs leetle. Eet ez not zho uncommon for zhem. I am... ah... uzed to zhe
idea? Azh long as zhey are not hurting zhe ozzair, I do not zhink it all zhat strange. I would
guess zhey enjoy it. Pairhaps more because of zhe taboo azpect."

"I know I do because of that," Harry admitted, and resolved then to just lay out his secrets. If
Fleur could take that so easily, there was no reason to hide who he was. "Anyway, there's a
few girls in Slytherin, one of whom I... well, sort-of-but-not-really raped, I guess, and she
liked it and now we're lovers and friends. More recently, I... I've fallen for her, too. I know,
we sort of went about it backwards..."

"Eef zhat is zhe case," Fleur said quietly, "zhen I do not zhink it was rape. Not fully, at least.
Zhe must 'ave wanted it in part."

"She told me she was horrified, after," Harry returned, "but I gave her some advice afterward,
that... well.. she took it to heart. She betrayed her family, everything she'd grown up
believing, because of some off-the-cuff stuff I said about... well, people. And she's... happier.
Better for it, I really do believe that. It's just... the way it happened, it's not normal, and I
hated that I did it. I still do."

"Zhen zhat eez it."

He shook his head, "Lavender Brown, another girl in our year, but in our House, Gryffindor.
I... raped her, too. But she asked me to. Like, for real."

Fleur blinked, "Zhen... 'ow eez it rape?"

"I wondered that too," he confessed, before explaining the whole story about how Lavender
had told him she liked it rough, when a man took what they wanted from her. How, in dire
need himself, he'd seized on the opportunity to force her into a broom closet and taken her in
every way that mattered, and even bound her to him with a sort of magical contract that gave
him some power over her like he had with Lilith, capable of even overriding her own mind's
control of her body.

"Zhat zhounds... amazing," Fleur whispered after finishing the explanation with a brief
version of the night Lavender had gotten her Runes.

"Yeah, well... still not really proud of it. There's more."

Then, Romilda. Once again, Fleur listened quietly, but if the protruding bumps on her chest
told Harry anything as he explained how her mind had been shattered by overwhelming lust
and desire to be used, it was that perhaps Fleur wouldn't mind a bit of that herself. Again, she
reacted without judgment, almost exactly how Lilith did about the incident now, months later.

"One more big secret," Harry said quietly, "I've... well... Ron's a lover, too. Sort of."

"And zho you will expect me to be whiz 'im?"

Harry shook his head quickly, "No. I- Wait, what?"

She blinked and shrugged, "I 'ad aszummed you were telling me all zhis eizher to make me
jealous, which does not zheem like you, or to warn me zhat zhese women will zhare our bed
zhometimes when I am zhere. Or zhat we will trade between us."

"No, not- that's not what I mean," Harry clarified, "And I'm- ugh. Hold on, one thing at a
time. No, you don't have to sleep with or have sex with these other women, Fleur. You can, if
you both want to. I'd never stop you, or them, as long as there's mutual consent. I'm just
saying my relationships with each of these girls is different, even if some are similar to
others. The dynamic between them is each different, too."

"But whiz Ronald? I 'ad aszumed you were 'eteroszexual, but I do not care if you-"

"No! Fleur, just... just listen, alright? There's... more to it than that. It's not that simple."

"Eet never isz," she teased half-heartedly, "but go on. Szorry for interrupting, 'Arry."

He sighed, then whispered, "I can... because of Lilith, I can shapeshift. Like a... metamorph.
I've... been female. Enough that I've sort of developed an.. alternate personality. Her name is
Iris. And... she looks like this."

Fleur watched the change with interest, her brilliant blue eyes widening in pleasant surprise.
"Let me look at you," she asked after the transformation was complete.

Feeling awkward in Harry's clothes, Iris stood from the bed and held her arms out, doing a
slow turn, then quickly turned back into her 'brother'.

"That," he explained, "is... what I meant with Ron. I'm straight. Threesomes with more guys
than girls is... alright, but I'm not with the blokes, even if we're... occasionally touching. Does
that make sense?"

Fleur nodded casually, "Eet eez not 'ard to understand. I don't know why you zhink I would
be worried about eet eef you... experimented, zho."

Harry blushed, and decided to ignore the question. "But Iris, we think because of the different
hormones or something, does, uh, want to be with... blokes. Lilith and I both think she's...
well, maybe not even bisexual, but pansexual."

Fleur nodded once more, clearly following, "Zhat makes some zhense. Eet iz... ah... different,
but not bad. Zhe's cute. I will enjoy... rubbing ugleez? Eez zhat zhe phrase?"

Harry blushed, and tried to ignore that one, too. "A- Anyway, Ron's... well, and Lilith,
because she can shapeshift too, obviously, are the only, um... well, penises that've been in...
Iris. Mostly. Er..."

"Oh?" Fleur's face lit up with teasing amusement again, but also with clearly growing
arousal. "Zhere is more?"

Harry blushed, nodding, "Er... well... this is a bit, uh... embarrassing, but... Lilith can change
a lot, and I can, too. Almost as much as her. She's, um... well, even as a girl she can grow a..."

Fleur exhaled slowly, her face heating along with her body, "A futanari?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Futanari," she exhaled again, "Futa. Ah... Newhalf? Not zhe.. ah... what eez zhe word...
not... well, zhemale may be correct, I don't know for Eenglish, but eet zhounds like she can
be a woman whiz a penis, yes? Both zhe pussy and zhe cock?"
Harry nodded, turning even deeper red himself. "That's... well, how she was... with Iris."

"Zhat is hot as fuck," Fleur exhaled, breathing rapidly. "I 'ave... a beet of a kink zhere, you
zhee. I zhink it's very zhexy."

Harry's blush did not abate at all, but he began to grin. "Well... as I said, I can do it almost as
well. And Iris is also sort of me, so... she loves to suck her own dick."

Fleur Delacour orgasmed on the spot, not even touching herself, as Harry Potter said those
words. It wasn't deep or profound, but the very idea...

"One day," she whispered, "one day soon, you will have to zhow me zhat, 'Arry Potter."

His grin widened. "You like that idea, huh?"

She gave a sort of half-nod, then stood from the bed and gestured at the wet spot she'd left
through her knickers. The skirt, short as it was, had caught nothing.

"Well," he murmured, leaning in close to her face again, and taking a long whiff of her
perfumed body, "maybe it'll be later today... say, after lunch. But for now, I want to be myself
when I fill your body full, servant-girl."

"Of course, Sir," Fleur said immediately, dropping to her knees even as she shrugged her
arms free of the top and pushed it down to her waist, "I'll service you every way I can, Sir."

"Good."

Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

Fleur, as she reached for Harry's zipper and tugged his rapidly-hardening length from his
pants, would have agreed if Harry had said the thought aloud.

Downstairs in the library on the other side of the house, Hermione had gotten less than half-
way through what was going to be an exhaustive list of must-have titles for the library, when
a bored Succubus picked up her Master's thoughts, and turned toward the bookworm with
rapidly-vanishing clothes.

She'd wanted Hermione to go down on her as Lilian, but... well... no one said it had to be her
pussy alone. Besides, the girl liked sucking cock more, anyway. No one ever accused her of
being selfish. "Oh, Hermione... I've got something else you could be reading instead of
making a list. I call it... body language 101."

The girl looked up, confused, before her eyes widened, pupils dilating with sudden need as
just a little bit of pink fog spread through the air. "I... that's a big dick," Hermione whispered.

"It's hard, too," the Succubus pointed out. "What's more, if Lilian Vergot had a father, this
would be it. Good stock, you know. Daddy's dick is huge."
"It's... almost as big as Harry's," Hermione heard herself moan as her legs spread, allowing
one hand to dip beneath her jeans' hem.

"Sure is. And so hard for you..."

"I think I love you, tricky whore," Hermione said affectionately, glancing one more time at
the list, then shoving it to the side as she twisted in her chair and leaned down, engulfing
Lilian's cock-head in her mouth.

"Ooh, yeah, that's it, Hermione, suck my girl-cock..."

The brunette in question felt herself suddenly burning with desire such as she hadn't felt for
the Succubus alone since the previous year. Obviously, she enjoyed the physical sensations of
sexual activity with the creature, loved how they made her feel. Like with Harry and Ron,
Lilith had a gift for making Hermione feel desired, but more than that, desirable. She didn't
get off on bondage or being tied up, but that first night she'd shared with Lilith while Harry
had watched from the sidelines at Sirius' house the previous summer had shown Hermione
something deep and profound about herself, too.

Nothing compared to the changes she had seen within Harry of late, but it was something that
had taken her weeks to fully understand. Being tied up hadn't been the kicker, though she
knew she wouldn't have accepted what came later without it. Hermione Granger was a
straight girl, who only really desired men sexually. She could see other women as attractive,
beautiful, and she was in some way attracted to Ginny, Lilith, and even Hannah, Pansy, and
the others. But for her, it was mostly about the physical intimacy and pleasure on top of their
existing or growing friendships.

With the boys, it was different. Ron, Harry, she loved them, in addition to being their friends,
which added a whole new element. She loved to please them, and loved more that they
wanted her. The too-stubborn, knowledge-obsessed bookworm.

Then again, to a lesser extent, Neville was the same. But with him, Dean, and Seamus (rest
him), she still loved the feelings they could provide. Hermione was self-aware enough to be
able to admit that she liked sex and pleasure, and know that she could get that from almost
anyone. Had, in fact, both with and without Runes driving her mad with arousal.

But having a rigid penis in her mouth was... something beyond all of that. Harry needed her,
not just for her brain, but for her body. And she loved to be of use.

By choosing to service him and Ron, she had willingly given herself, spent her energy and
time to give them pleasure with no real thought to herself. She had not understood then what
it had meant, but she knew she liked it. The first time Hermione had sucked off the entire
fifth-year boy's dorm, she had figured out a bit more.

She just loved being of use, period, full-stop. Some might call it degrading, but Hermione
didn't feel that way. In fact, she felt powerful, being in control of the man's pleasure like that.
Helping not just one or two boys (Men, really, she knew now), but a whole room full of them,
all by herself? That was a rush that could not compare. Even having fucked every one of
them in a chain wasn't the same. It felt better for her physically, sure, but it didn't give the
same rush because that was not her giving of herself, it was sharing each other for mutual
benefit.

Like before, when she had learned that Lilith could provide quite as much (if slightly
different) pleasure for her than Harry or Ron, she found sinking down on Lilian's erection,
taking several inches in her mouth, just as fulfilling.

For a human, Lilian's father would have been quite impressive in size. Nearly nine inches
long, as thick as Neville's at nearly two inches across, and from the side it was a struggle to
take more than half of it even for her, but Hermione worked at it gamely, bobbing deeper and
deeper, until her throat had adjusted to take the entire length. Then she started rising and
falling slower, holding the Succubus in her throat for a while every time she reached the base,
and circled her own tongue around it. She mostly focused on the right side, trying but never
quite succeeding to lick at her clit while she was so very full.

After her vision started to get hazy from spending so long choking on Lilian's dick, Hermione
finally felt her start to swell and pulse, and resolved to stay just a little longer. She loved the
sweet taste of Lilith's cum, and wanted to try Lilian's semen, but this one time, the first time
she'd sucked off her girl-cock, Hermione wanted to give her the ultimate act of service, and
deep-throat her through what, judging by the Succubus' squirming body and moans, was a
very intense orgasm.

Slowly, she pulled herself free, making sure to keep as much suction as she could, fighting
against the dizziness that was threatening to make her pass out. It took a few more swallows
before she could breathe again. Once she caught her breath, Hermione licked her lips while
giving the blonde 'case-worker' a sultry look. "Up on the table," she instructed, "on your
back."

The Succubus smiled and stood up, her clothes melting away into the aether, "How do you
want me? Like this, or should I change-"

"Just like this," Hermione interrupted, "I want to eat Lilian's slutty pussy while I stroke her
off again."

"Alright," Lilian giggled agreeably, sitting on the edge and leaning back onto one arm,
opening her legs. She was still rock-hard of course, and knew that Hermione was enjoying
this, so it was totally fine with her. She could shag the girl later. She was, after all, meant to
serve, too. Letting her Master's friends and lovers use her as they desired was part of her life,
and one she looked forward to. Even if the act of service was being serviced.

Harry had seen enough porn on Dudley's computer over the summer to be quite familiar with
the whole French Maid fantasy, but he had never expected it to come into his life
accompanied by Fleur Delacour, on her knees next to his bed, the top of a black and white
ruffled maid's uniform around her waist, as her white silk-gloved hands stroked his erection
languidly. She was staring at his length raptly, as if unable to look away, both hands rising
and falling slowly in counterpoint, twisting as they went to corkscrew around him. He
groaned at the sensation, which was erotic but not truly pleasurable. Even silk was a bit rough
to get him off like this, but the image was perfect.
Fleur pumped him for a minute or maybe a bit more, then rose up on her knees a bit and
leaned in, dragging her full, round breasts up his thighs to surround his cock. Her head tilted,
eyes still locked on his, to kiss the tip of it gently. Then she used the fingertips of one hand
and the palms of both to press her chest against him, surrounding his hard-on with pillowy,
soft warmth.

Before Fleur had a chance to move, Harry pushed his pelvis up once, then dragged it back
down, sliding the last four inches of so of his cock against Fleur's graceful, slender neck and
collar, the rest of him enveloped by her tits. She pushed them together a bit harder, smiling up
at him, and started to slide them over his rod and against each other, rising on one side and
falling on the other. Even without lubrication, it felt amazing, divine, like he was both
pushing in and pulling out at the same time. And the sight of his dick between Fleur
Delacour's mammaries was doing more for him than Harry could've ever imagined before he
saw it for himself. "Fuck, that's great," he moaned, one hand coming to rest on Fleur's
perfectly coiffed blonde hair, the other taking his weight as he leaned back a bit.

"'Ave you evair had ze teetey-fuck, 'Arry?"

"Y- Yeah," he groaned, "A few, but... shit... you're really good at it, Fleur."

"Zhank you," she exhaled, then looked down and opened her mouth to suckle on the end of
his cock, while her hands began to lift and lower her tits at the same time, more like he was
fucking her mouth.

Harry groaned again. It was fast, far faster than usual for him, but he felt an orgasm coming
on already. "I'm... I'm cumming Fleur... r- Really soon."

Her lips latched onto his cock-head even harder and she inhaled, sucking for all she was
worth, as her full tits bounced around him faster and faster. Just as his climax hit, he felt
Fleur's tongue smash into the hole at his tip, deflecting and slowing down the flood of semen
as it rushed from him. It hurt as the pressure in his cock built immediately, but at the same
time it intensified the feeling of the orgasm several times over, making Harry grab her head
by instinct as he thrust further into her mouth.

But Fleur moved back just as quickly, keeping only his head trapped within her orifice, until
his shaking body was completely dry. When he could focus again, Harry's hips had fallen
back onto the bed, and Fleur's cheeks bulged with his cum while he was still in her mouth.
Then, grinning around him still, her body shifted a little and she pulled off, closing her lips at
the same time to seal him in. There was only a very faint pop sound, and Harry's still very
stiff penis smacked his stomach, wet with her saliva, but no trace of semen that he could see.

"You didn't spill a fucking drop?" It was an almost ludicrous question, but Fleur, still grinning
around her puffed-up cheeks, shook her head, then held up a finger, silently asking him to
hold on. She swallowed, then again, and again, and a fourth, then fifth time, before she
slowly opened her mouth. A curtain of white cum and saliva spread into strings with the
opening, but her tongue, still covered in his remnants itself, swished through the gap and
gathered it up. Then she closed her mouth again and swallowed a final time, opening it to
show him it was clean again. Then Fleur giggled, patted her belly, and murmured as she
leaned into him, "Zhat was very tasty, Mastair 'Arry. Can zhis 'umble szervant help you
again?"

"Hell yes," Harry growled, lurching upright and standing, forcing Fleur to almost fall
backward with his haste. He threw off his clothes, then scooped her up from where she still
knelt, watching his body, and tossed her onto the bed, lying up. Before she could do more
than giggle, his hands were beneath her skirt, pulling down the white stockings she wore, but
left them at her knees. Her knickers, purely white lace and nearly sheer, came next, left in the
same spot. Then Harry held her there, with her gorgeous, supermodel's legs held high in the
air, and looked down at the clean-shaven pussy he was about to claim.

This time, it was him that sank to his knees, and leaned in to worship first her thighs with his
lips and tongue, moving down the inside and back of either side. He took turns, kissing first
the right and then the left, but didn't deviate beyond that. He was in no mood to tease, he
wanted to taste her.

Harry was getting hints before he ever touched his mouth to the older witch's lower lips, the
odor of her arousal was quite strong, and the inside of her thighs were thick with it, but the
first true taste as he finally licked her labia was nearly overpowering. Vanilla. French Vanilla.
Heh... I should've known.

He dove in with gusto, making sure to lick from the outside in as he slowly added one finger,
then two, pushing into her channel gently to prepare her for more. After the second was fully
in, he stroked up against her g-spot quickly, far harder than he would on most girls unless
they were nearly climaxing, but he knew in that moment exactly what Fleur wanted. It wasn't
gentle love-making. No, she wanted him to push her over the edge, and hard. She wanted him
to show her that she would belong to him, and that he'd take care of her.

That the furious rounds of sex they'd had at the Burrow the summer before were, for all their
fun, a fluke... but that he could still be quite passionate.

So he dragged that climax out of her, kicking and screaming, as quickly as he could. In under
a minute, Fleur was crying out his name, her hips gyrating helplessly against his face, while
his hands still held her half-bound legs in the air. Then she squirted, and Harry pulled back
just in time to watch the clear liquid fly across the room, leaving a four-foot line of dark spots
on the royal blue carpet.

But he didn't let up. Instead, Harry kept fingering her, faster and harder, while he pushed to
his feet, knelt in just a little bit so his knees were against the bed, and then replaced his
fingers with his cock in one smooth motion.

In the middle of one long climax, Fleur squirted again, but this time it was plugged up by his
cock and abdomen, so the fluid gushed out to the sides and against him instead, as Harry's
hands moved around her luscious thighs to grab hold of Fleur's waist on one side and her tits
on the other, then lean down. Her body was like a spring, taught and wound tightly, so her
legs did an admirable job of helping to support Harry as he started hammering faster and
harder, using the recoil of the bed's springs to push him back, and then driving home yet
again.
And as Harry abused Fleur's delicious pussy with his cock, he realized that's exactly what he
was doing: Driving home.

She had not been, at the Burrow.

Not once had he felt that connection with her, there.

But here, in his own house, after the conversation they had just had, things had changed. It's
because I do care about her, Harry surmised with what little mental capacity he could spare,
the majority devoted to bringing both of them to heights of pleasure neither had experienced
often. And maybe a bit because I want to keep her, too.

... So why did Daphne and Tracey feel that way, too? I wonder...

That was all the thought he could handle as Fleur's hands began to claw at his arms, unable to
reach anything else, leaving little welts as she cried out again and again, "Arry! 'Arry! Oh,
mon dieu, 'Arry! Fuck me, fuck me, 'Arry!"

He felt another orgasm welling, but Harry was enjoying this too much. He could go again
immediately, of course, but wanted this one to last just a little longer. Mostly, he was afraid
Fleur would pass out if they kept it up much longer, because she was clearly being affected
by her own nature, Lilith's magic, or both. Buried in her still, he stood up a little to let her
legs stand free, then pushed them over to the left, twisting her body the side far enough that
she climaxed again at the change in sensation almost instantly, his cock effectively
corkscrewing inside her. Then he started pumping again, now able to lean further over her
and kiss her forehead, her nose, and then claim her mouth.

Without hesitation, even gasping for air and still crying out his name, she sought out and
reached for him, her tongue clashing with his own. Harry came hard, harder than he had in
weeks, unable to do more than jerk and push further spasmodically. He couldn't even keep
thrusting, he was simply overcome by a desire to put his seed as deeply within Fleur as it
could possibly go.

She, like Lilian and Pansy, seemed made for him. He hadn't pierced her cervix and into her
womb even at the furthest, but the end of her channel nestled and coaxed his cock like a
glove as it spurted out again and again, flooding her so much that Harry could have sworn he
saw her slightly scrunched-up belly swell and distend a bit before he pulled back, his cum-
slimed cock dragging out semen to fall onto the floor.

Once he was free, he finally reached up with shaking hands to pull the hose and knickers off
the rest of the way, and Fleur rolled back to face upright, gasping for breath just as he was,
her eyes filled with blissed-out lust and affection.

Then she sat up, pushing him back a step to lean down and clean him with her mouth again,
eagerly lapping up his semen while her hand kept her cunt plugged. Some of their fluids, not
to mention her squirt, still dribbled onto the carpet and down the side of the bed, but Harry
had the feeling Lilith would clean it before long... and that sooner or later, a U.V. Light shone
in this room would make it look like a brothel, or worse.
Harry looked down at her as she languidly cleaned him, then shifted to lay down again for a
few minutes, still holding his leavings within her. "Mon dieu," she repeated after a bit, rather
breathless still, "I 'ave nevair climaxed zhat 'ard, 'Arry! Not evair."

"It's been a bit for me, too," he chuckled, reaching down to slide a hand up her collar and cup
her jaw, then shifted onto the bed and kissed her cheek, then mouth again, more tenderly. "Do
you need a bit to rest?"

She nodded, but then blushed, "Pair... perhaps you could, hm... szend for your Pet and 'ave 'er
clean me? I 'ave not been whiz a woman in some time, and I know zhat she likes to feed from
you."

"If she's done with Hermione, sure," Harry laughed, then closed his eyes, not that he really
needed to, and sent off word to the Succubus about that very thing.

Within a few seconds, she was there, already kneeling down at the edge of the bed in the
same spot both of them had occupied briefly, and licking madly away while her lips
suctioned up everything she could get from Fleur's depths

As far as Harry could tell, while he watched and lightly massaged the witch's tits, she didn't
climax again, but she clearly enjoyed the treatment until Lilian, still buxom and blonde, stood
up and smoothed out her suddenly-present skirt. "Hermione is just napping," she informed
them with a grin, "She wore herself out making me feel good, so when I bent her over the
table with my girl-dick, she didn't last long."

"Hah," Harry murmured, then glanced at Fleur, who was blushing again, "Turns out this little
one has a bit of a fetish for that... who knew?"

"Well, me," Lilian said innocently, "but then, I know everyone's fetishes a few seconds after I
meet them, so that's not a big deal. Reading, and all. So what's the plan, Master?"

"Can you bring Hermione upstairs? I'd like to take a nap myself, actually..."

"Ah... excellent. I was hoping. I'll have to carry her, but she won't complain unless she wakes
up. I'll be right back, but can you open the door, Master?"

"Sure, love."

A few minutes later, all four of them were snuggling together, uncaring of the sweat that was
slowly drying on Fleur or Harry's bodies, all naked or nearly so, atop the covers.

It would not, Harry hoped as he drifted away into comforting rest, be the last time.
 Consequence Rising

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on SubStar.
Follow my DISCORD link, then go to the "Links in General" channel at the bottom (I don't
believe you even need to have Discord, or be a member, to see that channel- and if you do,
someone PM me and I'll fix it). SubStar's posted up past Chapter 100. So... you know, it's a
long way ahead (they have started the summer after 6th).

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 100 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 67: Consequence Rising

Dumbledore frowned as the slate of pure basalt carved with faintly blue-green glowing runes
along each edge of the disc vibrated. The ivory rod capped with silver on one end that
hovered above it began to rotate slowly left, then back, moving clockwise and then anti-
clockwise. He took a single step forward, and it began to spin wildly. That behavior
continued as he spun slowly, the group of teachers, borrowed Aurors, and a few members of
the Order of the Phoenix as well, who had followed him gave him a quizzical look. He turned
to his second, "Minerva, all the students still at the castle are accounted for?"

She nodded once, her expression stern and unamused, much like his own, "Yes. The
entrances to their common rooms were locked by their Heads of Houses with all of them
inside. It's only twelve students this year."

"I see. There is still one living person in the halls outside from our group, either above or
below us."

"The Astronomy Tower and the... Divination classroom for the odd-numbered years are both
above us, Headmaster," she reminded him unnecessarily, "but there are a number of
classrooms and halls below us."

"Then we know our area to search. I should like us to break into teams of four or five, seal off
each entrance to the halls below this one and above. We will take a lead from Mr. Potter's
searches, and do a top-down examination of each room within those boundaries."

So they did, quickly moving into place. There were just enough people present to assign a
team to the four lower hallway floors, and the one above it that held the entrances to both
towers that McGonagall had mentioned.
Meanwhile, he, his Deputy Headmistress, and a pair of Aurors he trusted, Kingsley
Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks (not coincidentally Order members as well), began
searching the rooms, one at a time, as methodically as possible.

Six hours later, they finished their search, from the towers to the dungeons, and found
absolutely no sign of an errant student. Even the instrument he had used, designed
specifically to find any human life-signs in case of an emergency, revealed nothing except a
possible vertical line. He had used it again on each floor, and gotten the same results.

The person it was detecting was not him, the students in their rooms, or any of the other
searchers. It was an anomaly, and the only reasonable conclusion he could find was that it
was Mr. Nott, or perhaps the missing Vicky Frobisher. But while the traces it was picking up
were definitely there, and the device was working as it should as far as he could tell, it was
unable to pinpoint the exact location of that person.

Which meant that, Dumbledore then concluded late that night, they were behind powerful
protections indeed. The sort of thing that only a personage like himself, Voldemort, or
another truly powerful witch or wizard could bring about. That, in turn, narrowed the list of
suspects greatly. No student could have done such a thing, but he knew well that Voldemort
was not in the school grounds.

As the choices and options continued to narrow, Albus Dumbledore was left with only two
possible conclusions. Either the missing girl or escaped suspect were hiding behind some sort
of protections they had smuggled into the school, created by Voldemort himself, or they were
in the one place in the school Dumbledore could not go.

"The Chamber of Secrets," he whispered quietly. On his perch a dozen feet away, his familiar,
Fawkes, squawked and chirped quietly. "Yes, I understand, old friend. We will have to wait
for Mr. Potter to return, it seems. It shan't be much longer."

The mythical bird warbled again, and Dumbledore chuckled, "No, I'm afraid I don't want that
sort of ability myself. I am fine being able to understand you, my friend. I don't mind
serpents, of course, and I would never blame an animal for being controlled or influenced by
a witch or wizard. I just prefer the freedom that comes with flight, rather than being earth-
bound."

"If Mum finds us, we're dead," Ginny whispered to her older brother as her lips brushed
along the red stubble on his jawline, and her hands fished for the fastening of his pants in the
dim light of the chicken coop.

"Be quick and she won't suspect anything," Ron hissed, his hands sliding up his sister's waist,
underneath her shirt, to circle both of her perky breasts, then slid his thumbs over her rapidly
hardening nipples. She sighed in response to his touch, then suddenly leaned up on her toes
and kissed him on the mouth.

He jerked in surprise. They'd been flirting with that sort of thing for weeks, but never actually
done it. The pent-up frustration of not being able to be with Lilith or Hermione had gotten to
Ron within a few days, and it hadn't been a week back at the Burrow, shortly after Boxing
Day, when he'd first asked Ginny to go down on him. He had been embarrassed and nervous
at the same time, and worried that, without the Succubus' influence or Ginny's own desire to
show Harry just how amazing she was, that she would laugh and turn him down. Or worse,
report the request to their mother.

Instead, his little sister had gone about it quickly and efficiently, sucking him off in her
bedroom while he leaned against the door. Then she'd stood up, pulled him around, and then
pushed down her own pants, which were dripping and moist.

Since then, they had traded turns, making sure that neither had gone unsatisfied for too long,
at least every few days. Only once had they come close to being caught, which had left Ron
trying to hide an erection for more than an hour until they could sneak away and she could
finish the job.

They were due to return to Hogwarts now in two days, which meant this might be the last
time they did this at the Burrow. That was why he'd risen quite earlier than normal, and
'volunteered' to 'help Ginny with her chores'. His sister, of course, knew full well what was
going on. Their mother had only thanked him for wanting to help out more around the house,
given the large number of guests they still had. Six other students were still there.

Bur just then, Ron didn't care about that. Between their wands, which they had snuck out
inside their clothes, gathering the necessary eggs had taken about three seconds. He estimated
they had about ten minutes to get each other off before their mother noticed, and maybe two
past that before she actually got suspicious. Which meant that, as he looked down at Ginny's
lightly freckled face, he saw her lips, raising up again.

This time, he met her kiss eagerly, briefly, then pulled back "Let me see your tits], sis."

She lifted her shirt immediately, letting him feel them for only a few seconds while her
breathing made them rise and fall rapidly in his palms, then sank to her knees. He groaned
again, letting his weight fall against the wall of the coop as she started bobbing on him at
once.

Ginny had gotten a lot better, he decided, just in the last few weeks. She was no Hermione,
who seemed truly gifted in cock-sucking, but her skill and technique was improving every
time, and she was better able to take his whole length without gagging. He watched as her
face buried itself against his body again and again, only faint gagging noises coming from her
as she slid half-way off of him and then back down, forcing his erection to bend
uncomfortably, but in a way that still caused indescribable pleasure as it forced her throat to
rearrange itself, too. "That's it, Ginny... deep-throat your brother's cock, you dirty slag."

Ginny began to hum while she did so, the additional vibrations spiking his pleasure again,
and sped up, while her hands sank to diddle her cunt and massage his balls gently. Only her
mouth and throat on his cock were rough, the other touch was gentle and slow. But Ron
wanted just a bit more. They had to hurry. So he grabbed his sister's head and held her in
place, then started thrusting with his hips. She could take it, and as he looked down, he saw
Ginny smiling around his cock, her tongue extended past her lips and swirling from side to
side while he skull-fucked her as quickly as he could move.
Not once did she actually gag, but just as he started to climax, she wrenched herself free of
his grip and leaned back, leaving her mouth wide open to receive his seed as her hands
switched to jerking him rapidly while he came. Several thick ropes jetted out against the
palette of her mouth and teeth, and a few squirted over Ginny's cheeks, with one covering her
left eye with a thin strand that hung on her eyelashes, but she never flinched or stopped until
he was finally spent. Then she scooped the load up hastily, shoveling the lot into her eager,
open mouth as he dangled, slowly stroking himself down, and swallowed the lot in three
great gulps.

Then she climbed up onto the railing that separated the two halves of the coop and opened
her legs, "My turn, brother. Lick my cunt like the man-whore you are."

Ron grinned at her for returning his comment in her own way, then leaned in and kissed her
again. He still wasn't quite used to tasting himself (or any man), but it wasn't as bad as he'd
feared the first few times, and kissing his own sister after she'd gone down on him was still
erotic enough he didn't care. He mauled her breasts a bit more, making her mewl as he kept
slipping her the tongue, then latched onto each nipple and suckled it briefly before going
further down.

Ginny moaned as he slurped and lapped at her pussy, her hand fisting in his messy, long red
hair. He wasn't as good as Ginny herself at eating a girl out, but he'd still had a lot of practice
and some very good teachers, so it didn't take Ron long to make her gasp and moan his name
several times. As he inserted one, two, and then three fingers and stroked her g-spot, she
gasped and cried out once, her climax already crashing over her, "Ron! I'm cumming, Ron!"

Unfortunately, her pleasure was slightly marred by a human-sized shadow moving past the
slits in the chicken coop, rapidly vanishing through the early morning sunlight. Somehow, as
much as she enjoyed being watched, this particular circumstance made her rather nervous.
So, on trembling legs, the moment her orgasm subsided enough to do so, Ginny hopped
down, right over her brother's head, and hiked up her pants.

"Someone heard us," she hissed, trembling fingers struggling to fasten them.

Ron paled, his own half-down trousers coming up quickly, "You sure?"

She nodded, pointing one finger at the wall, "I saw a shadow, someone was just there- they
moved toward the house. It was right after I said- after I said your name, and that I was
cumming."

"Shit," he swore, face darkening, "We're in for it, now."

They scooped up the egg-baskets, red-faced and still breathing heavily, to return to their
mother in the kitchen. Perhaps, if they stayed around her all day, whoever had heard them
wouldn't have a chance to tell the matriarch what they'd heard and possibly seen before they
returned to school, at least.

Maybe.
The creature that had once been the human Theodore Nott Jr. sighed as the the corpse of
Vicky Frobisher was crushed beneath his foot, which was now as big as her whole body had
been. The remains of her had already been broken and bruised, room-temperature and
unsatisfying. He'd been hoping to get one last fuck out of what was left of her pussy. It'd been
fun the first dozen times. The night he'd taken her virginity, Christmas, had been most
pleasant for him. But once the ritual had taken effect and his body and grown larger and
larger, things changed. They'd been, if anything, better at first. He'd stretched her out so well,
and her cunt had been very tight, always wet with either magically-enforced arousal and joy
as her conditioning took effect with his own pleasure, or blood. But once what was left of his
morality faded, and he got bigger and bigger still, she had only screamed in pain and rapture
at once, her mind shattered by the conflicting feelings. By that point, every time he
hammered home into her deliciously tight twat, he could tell he was damaging organs, and
she only hung there, limp, while he slid her up and down his shaft.

Later that same day, he had met the vampire his master had sent, and she had given him even
more pleasure. Her dead body was larger, could fit even his massive size, though it tore and
ripped to do so. But this vampire loved the pain, she said, got off on it. And she healed so
quickly! As long as he fed her his own blood, of which he had plenty, she healed within
seconds from whatever damage he inflicted as he used her again and again. A little cooler
than a human body, but she was still alive enough, active and eager to copulate.

A good tool. Now that she was under his control thanks to the collar's conditioning, she
literally did nothing but suck or fuck him, and feed. Usually, the two activities were
simultaneous, her own undead strength enough to keep her doing it even as his massive body
hurtled through the increasingly narrow tunnels beneath Hogwarts as he worked at his
master's bidding. It wouldn't be much longer, now. A few weeks, at most. So long as the
vampire could satisfy him that long, which he suspected she could, there would be no reason
to suspect the plan would fail. Or that it even could.

No... Nott grunted as another orgasm ripped through him, but didn't stop his loping, four-
limbed run down the halls, nor did the climax that filled the vampiress stop her. If anything,
her efforts redoubled as his pleasure fed back into her through he collar she so easily wore, as
if born to it. No, they would not fail. They were too close now, even if the aged fool of a
Headmaster came into the Chamber itself now, it would be too late. They had no more need
of the room, she could fuck him while on the move, and he never needed rest again.

He was beyond that, beyond needing to eat (though he liked to), or even drink. He was
beyond anything but sex, pleasure, and killing.

Nott was, in his own opinion, nearly perfect. Just a few more days, as the last elements of the
trap were put into place, and his evolution continued. That would be enough.

Tonight (at least, he assumed it was night, but it didn't matter anymore), they would put a
piece of the trap in Hogsmeade. Perhaps he'd find a human body to fuck for a while, perhaps
not. He didn't really care, because again, the vampire was enough for now.

For now.
Dawn on the last day of the Christmas Holidays found Harry James Potter sitting at the desk
in his bedroom at Sirius' house, Fleur and Hermione entwined in his queen-sized bed without
him, and Lilith happily slurping at his cock under the desk. But for all he enjoyed her oral
ministrations, he wasn't focused on that task. He was pouring over the responses to a few
letters he had sent out a few days before, after returning from touring the manor.

The first was perhaps the least important to Harry emotionally, but the key to all the rest, and
therefore of great value. The letter itself was not long, but the sheaves of parchment and
paper both that had accompanied it were something he would have to look over in greater
detail, probably several times and with Hermione's (and other's) help.

Mr. Potter,

It is with respect that we received your letter. Per your request, our accountants have
summarized your holdings, both liquid and asset, in the following report. This is all of the
properties, both real and intellectual, and total worth of the Potter House, to the best of
Gringott's Bank's knowledge. It may not be complete. These only include properties, assets,
or cash amounts that Gringott's Bank is aware of or has records pertaining to, which is itself
limited to the British Isles and their extant colonies.

Gringott's Bank cannot, unfortunately, acquiesce to your request for a further audit. Our
accountants and financiers are Goblins, and thus subject by treaty to act only in Goblin
interests. In lieu of that request, we have included a list of reputable Wizard-kind accounting
firms, several of which have done business with your family in the past. If you truly wish for
such an accurate account of your family's wealth, we recommend you seek out an accountant
from one of those firms to keep on retainer going forward. We estimate it will take years for a
single person or small team to make that full accounting.

Here is the (abridged) summation of your currently-known assets:

Assets: Estimated Value in Galleons(G):

Real Holdings: 24 274,234,435

Rights, Loans, Shares: 42 35,236,326,854

Liquid Assets: 2,351,846,236

Estimated Annual Interest: 42,326,279

Total Estimated Worth (minus income): 37,904,733,804

For your consideration, this puts your family's wealth in the upper echelon among Wizard-
kind in the British Isles, and among the 'average' wealth for what your kind call the Sacred
Twenty-Eight. There are approximately nineteen families with more known wealth than your
own. We include this information as a courtesy, given how your kind like to measure their
wealth against others.
Gringott's Bank wishes the best for you and yours, and is happy to answer any questions or
clarify any matter within our purvue as the Wizarding Bank of the British Isles.

I am respectfully,

Razoreye the Seventh, Head of Accounting for Gringott's Bank.

Harry sighed as he looked at the numbers again. He'd once estimated how much wealth was
in Vault 687. It wasn't accurate at all, he was sure, but it was nowhere near what he was
looking at on the fine vellum sheet at the top of the stack in his hands. The liquid assets,
coins he guessed, in the vault might've totaled two million Galleons, maybe. That was a high
estimate, though, and he figured it was closer to just over one million. Still quite a penny,
enough to live out his life quite comfortably but this... it was staggering.

The next page had delineated the meaning behind some of the more confusing terms. Real
holdings referred to actual properties. Buildings, land, homes, shops, that sort of thing. The
manor, he had checked, was included in that... and it was worth only about ninety-four
thousand galleons, as large and well-appointed as the property was. Which meant that
somewhere out there, in the United Kingdom, were twenty-one other properties he owned
worth a total of around three times the manor itself. It was... well, ludicrous might be a good
word, but somehow Harry found it inadequate. In the sheaf of papers, after all, were an
itemized list of each and every one of those properties. He'd glanced at it, read the title, and
put it back.

It would take some time to process.

The next line, Rights, Loans, and Shares was a bit more confusing, and the numbers far more
impressive. Rights referred to copyrights, patents, or other such things. The stupid books that
bore his name, written when he was a baby, after the fall of Voldemort the first time? He
owned those rights, and (to his surprise) he'd been collecting money on all of them, which
had built up his wealth by a not-insignificant amount. Perhaps a tenth of the total, in fact, and
all without any work at all on his end. But he was shocked to see more patents and copyrights
that his family owned. Skele-grow, Sleekeazy's Hair Potion (a thing of his own grandfather's
creation, he was even more shocked to learn), and a large number of other Potions, both
medicinal or vanity-related, had been created by his family in ages past. They still had the
controlling rights to several apothecary manufactories and Potions laboratories, too, the ones
who made those potions for general use.

That, at least, explained how they'd built up that money, and the popularity of Sleekeazy's
had, Harry learned as he leafed through the sheets, more than quadrupled an already
impressive family fortune over the years when his grandfather had sold the company on his
retirement.

Loans were the value of, well, people that owed his family money. It was the smaller of the
categories, but still totaled more than his liquid assets several times over, more than twelve
million galleons. Among them, he was surprised to see, were the Malfoys (though the loan
was small), dating from around the time they had first come to England, centuries ago.
Unfortunately, it wouldn't be due in Harry's lifetime. But it was still something that made him
smile.

The shares, though. Forty percent ownership in the Daily Prophet? And they still printed that
shite about me? Oh... they're going to regret that.

There was more of course, but Harry found himself skimming over them quickly after that.
The liquid assets were, of course, his coins, in whatever denomination (and not a small
amount of older Muggle currency, he saw, no doubt inherited from his mother's side of the
family, though it paled next to the Potter's fortune). And the interest was just that, interest
gained from the loans, investments, and so on.

Harry sighed, setting the thick sheaf aside for later, still in the same order, and looked down
between his legs at Lilith, who was back as herself for now. She looked up at him with his
dick in her mouth, and thought, "What is it, Master?"

He spoke back softly, lest he wake the sleeping girls nearby, "It's just... there's so much about
my family I don't know. That's all. They're far wealthier than I thought. Or, well, I am, I
guess."

"Does that matter? I told you the Manor didn't take too much of your money, didn't I? I made
sure there was plenty before I even started the project."

"No," he murmured, reaching down to pat her head as she kept bobbing on his shaft, "I'm not
worried about that. It's just... there's so much. It'll support a large family, no question, but I
feel like we can do... more with it. That... well, that the Potters would want me to use it. To...
make the world better, I suppose. Not just let it sit there and accumulate."

"Then do that, Master. I'm sure you'll come up with something worthwhile. Also, how much
longer are you going to make me wait for your cum?"

"I was enjoying the blowjob too much," he said back softly, then relaxed his tightly-woven
control to let the climax he'd been holding back for half an hour explode into the Succubus'
mouth with a relaxing sigh. "Ah, that's good... you're still the best, along with Hermione,
Lils."

She swallowed him down, then cleaned him off again before replying, "Thank you, Master."

And she stayed there, sucking on him again. Harry shook his head, grinning down at her
insatiable appetite (Not that he was any better), and leaned forward again, picking up the next
letter.

Mr. Potter,

As an under-aged wizard (16), you are unable at this time to legally begin the process you
described in your letter. However, once you reach the age of majority on, we understand, July
31 of this year, you will be able to begin that legal process. Our department here at the
Ministry of Magic universally applauds the desires and goals outlined in your letter, and
express our heartfelt appreciation for your willingness to assist those less fortunate.

We understand that it is through no fault of your own that you cannot, at this time, legally
pursue this course of action. Thus, we at the Department of Relocation and Housing subset at
the Ministry of Magic wish to inform you that all available paperwork will be filled out
properly, in triplicate as required, and be waiting on July 31 for your signature. You may
come in as early as office hours on that day, which are 9 O'clock until 5 O'clock.

We eagerly await your visit, and your support of our Department. Furthermore, we again
applaud your stated wishes, and will do everything in our Department's (limited) power to
make your goals happen as quickly and smoothly as possible.

I am humbly your servant,

Moira Wallside

That letter, Harry read again just for good measure, then set it atop the bank's larger group.
He had known it wouldn't work, but hearing it stated so plainly was... unpleasant. Still, the
letter sounded sincere, and he imagined the office, which his research told him was primarily
responsible for the relocation and allotment of magical orphans with suitable families in the
event of a Will not stating how a child would be cared for if activated, was in desperate need
of some good funding and attention. Even if he planned to make their Department nearly
obsolete.

Then again, they had told him they would have all the paperwork ready on July 31st, his
birthday. That was good news, if it wasn't a trap.

If this Moira Wallside and whoever worked underneath her were truly willing to make things
as painless and smooth as possible... Harry smiled at the parchment, then picked up the next.

He didn't read it for a bit, his mind still turning over vague ideas of what he'd asked the
Department of Relocation to do for him, and how to make that work, for several more
minutes before turning to the letter itself.

Harry,

It's good to hear from you. Gran says she's bothered that you didn't come to visit after the
attack at the station, but she understands you were busy. She's... more annoyed about me and
Hannah being together all the time, but once she found out about Lilith, I think she gets it.
We've got some things to talk about on the train, if you don't mind. Gran says that's still how
they're bringing the students back, but security will be a lot tighter. Checks for everyone
moving between cars after the train starts moving, and there are watchers along the tracks,
more Aurors on the train itself, things like that. They don't want a repeat incident, for sure.

I also have a bit of news regarding Susan Bones. She wants to meet with you in February, to
discuss that Contract you guys talked about before. That's sort of related to what I wanted to
talk to you about, too, in fact. So if you don't mind, Hannah and I will be there. It's up to you,
though, you can meet with her alone if you want.

I'd ask how your Christmas was, but as late as I've remembered to write this letter, I'll
probably see you before I get a reply, so don't worry about it. We can talk on the Train. I don't
know how to tell you this really, but I'm looking forward to, well, seeing everyone. Hannah's
great, and I love her, but... I miss everyone else.

We'll talk on the train, I guess. Four hours might be enough. Looking forward to it, Harry.

Neville

That letter, longer than any of the business ones, made Harry grin as he read through it. "Miss
everyone", sure. Miss the girls, he thought to himself and the Succubus both, misses the
variety. Can't say I blame him, I miss Hannah's body, too, but he's probably got it worse. I at
least have a few, and one is a Succubus. Still...

He looked at the last letter of the stack with some trepidation.

It was official-looking, and addressed to him using his whole name, with a company
letterhead on the sender's note he recognized only the names of.

Cyrus Greengrass.

That wasn't all, though. Next to that was an official Ministry of Magic stamp, certifying that
the letters inside had been reviewed, much like a Notary Public would certify paperwork,
making them official and binding.

With a gulp, he opened the envelope, breaking the seal with his wand, as was required. No
knife would be enough to make it separate, at least not a non-magical one.

The letter within flew out swiftly, unfolding much like a Howler would with little sparkles of
magic surrounding it, then floated in the air for easy reading.

Mr. Harry J. Potter,

I hope this letter finds you and yours in good health. We have exchanged correspondence
before, but never quite so directly, so allow me please to introduce myself more formally. I am
your servant, Cyrus Martin Greengrass, father of your acquaintances, Daphne Ophelia and
Astoria Helena Greengrass. I write this on my own behalf, and that of my wife, Carrina, and
freely, of my own will. This is my word and vow, Mr. Potter. The contents of this letter are
meant for your eyes alone, certified and avowed by duly-appointed employees of the Ministry
of Magic for that purpose. If you are reading it, then no one aside from myself and my wife
has seen this letter. Another reading it before you would have destroyed it.

My daughters tell me that you have treated them with honor and respect, despite the
animosity that has long existed between our Houses at Hogwarts School. My younger
daughter, Astoria, further tells me in her letters that she has been to some few meetings with
muggle dock-tors and physicians. She also tells me that these muggles have some means of
treating the Blood Malediction that has beset our family for generations. While her mother
and I are still skeptical, treatment or outright removal of the Malediction is something we
have not had hope for in some time. Any hope, at this point, is better than none at all when it
comes to my daughters. So, we thank you for your aide in this so far, and beg your continued
assistance in getting her whatever treatment these muggle healers recommend. You do not yet
understand this, I think, as you are yet to sire children yourself, but their lives are worth far
more to me than my own. We sent Astoria to your care out of desperation, prompted by a
stray thought that Daphne, my elder daughter, had.

It was a fool's hope, but it has borne fruit, thanks to you and yours. For this, my wife and I
will be eternally grateful. Know that if there is anything we can do to repay that debt, we will
see it done.

Daphne further tells me that she wishes to enter a Concubine Contract with you.

Reading that last line, Harry's face paled as blood fled from it. He read it again and again,
five times in all, before he could move on. Lilith, still blowing him, noticed his cock
softening in her mouth and redoubled her efforts, but it did little good until the sudden fear
Harry felt faded with the rest of the letter.

A year ago, our House aligning with yours would have been absurd. But your actions to
benefit us with no thought of benefiting yourself have proven how wrong that idea would be.
Know that the arrangement Daphne seeks to join into with you meets our approval, Mr.
Potter. When that happy day comes, I pray that our two Houses join together as one in peace
and joy, and continued hope for the future.

Yet, despite all of this, there is still one last thing I must discuss. One final thing that I must
ask of you, Mr. Potter.

Astoria Helena Greengrass, my younger daughter, has been ordered by the Dark Lord styling
himself Voldemort to appear before himself. Short of her death, I see only one way to escape
that fate without further bringing doom to her, her sister, and our entire family. His
predilections of late have lead me to suspect that he intends to use her not only for his
personal amusement, but as a way to force my wife and myself, who have thus far remained
largely neutral in the coming struggle despite the marks we both carry, to align ourselves
with him in the hope of her safety.

I cannot abide the thought, for I know she would not be safe in his care. I suspect, in fact, that
the idea was first proposed by Draco Malfoy. I have heard from reliable sources that he has
joined the Dark Lord, a certain missing Hogwarts Student in his custody. He had always had
a bit of an unhealthy obsession with my daughters. An obsession that I fear has only grown
worse now that he has discovered his appetites, and that my dear Astoria is becoming closer
to her majority as well.
This brings me to my last and final request of you, Mr. Potter. I do not ask this as a man
influential in Wizarding society, nor as a vassal. I ask it only as a man who wishes to see his
daughter's safety assured.

Please take custody of her upon your own majority, as Astoria's magical guardian. I fear
that, at that time, we will no longer be able to care for her. Daphne, being older, could do so
but I worry that the burdens of caring for her sister for two years while in school might be
too much for her. You have proven yourself to be resourceful, strong, and capable. When
presented with the same burden, I feel that you will be able to handle it. I know I have no
right to expect or even ask this of you. If you decline, know that in the event of our passing,
Daphne is also prepared to do what must be done. However, she will also be in your care in a
way.

It is for this reason that I ask, one last time, with the knowledge that my wife and I will devote
ourselves to your cause henceforth regardless of your answer for what you have already done
for us:

Assume Magical Guardianship of our daughter, as outlined in our living and extant Wills,
and by the intent outlined in this letter. Please care for her, when, if, and how we cannot.

Thank you.

Ever yours,

Cyrus M. Greengrass

He stared, and he stared.

Surely they couldn't mean that. Him, adopt Astoria?

Not adopt, he realized. Only assume Guardianship of. He would essentially be a foster
caregiver, if they died. Even if they still lived, if he was seventeen, according to this letter.
But...

He swallowed, feeling his heart swell and rise into his throat once more. This time, it was an
odd mixture of tense anxiety, confirmation of what he already felt, and horrible fear.

Could he really do that? Would Daphne hate him, for it? Would it make their relationship (for
all that it was mostly physical and meant to produce offspring) strained, if he almost-adopted
her own sister, while still shagging her? Or would it be weird for Astoria herself?

How could the two parents give up their daughter like that?

But if what Cyrus had written was true, how could they not?

It was true, he had no children himself, but Harry had known for the last six years how his
parents had died: literally giving their lives for his.
It made him profoundly grateful, even as he mourned their loss and all that had meant for
him. But this... Astoria at least knew her parents. And it wasn't like, if they survived the
coming conflict, he would forbid her from seeing them.

Harry shook his head, knowing his decision was already made. Behind that sheet of
parchment was a single other. An official form, already filled out with all the pertinent
information, and awaiting only his signature. Even the date next to it had been filled in with
Cyrus's hand: July 31. His birthday.

Looks like I'm getting a pseudo-daughter for a present, he thought to himself, before letting
Lilith have some more of his essence with another pleased sigh.

Despite the weighty decision he had just made, Harry felt oddly light after making it. When
she climbed onto his lap and kissed him, Harry was smiling toward Lilith. "Good news,
love."

"Mm... I was watching, Master," she murmured into his mouth, "Now, we should probably
wake the others. Your Dogfather is nearly done with breakfast."

"Alright."
 What Lies Ahead

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on SubStar.
Follow my DISCORD link, then go to the "Links in General" channel at the bottom (I don't
believe you even need to have Discord, or be a member, to see that channel- and if you do,
someone PM me and I'll fix it). SubStar's posted up past Chapter 100. So... you know, it's a
long way ahead (they have started the summer after 6th).

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 100 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

A Quick Note: (I'll repeat this for a few chapters, about 5): I wrote these chapters about a
year ago now (next month I believe it will be a year, as the one I just posted is 104 and I post
the new ones weekly). At the time, I was attempting to write 12-15 page chapters daily. I did
it, for just about a year... and it nearly killed me from overwork. In the midst of a pretty heavy
bout of burnout, I did a quick check, and realized that in novel format I was writing an
average of THREE CHAPTERS PER DAY. For nearly a year. You can see how that would
burn someone out. I don't mean 'my chapters', I mean 30-50 pages of a paperback EVERY
SINGLE DAY. So when the chapters cut down- I think it's around 73, which is 5 chapters
ahead of this one, why I'm posting now- and the pacing seems to slow? That's why. It's still
the same story, just in smaller chunks. COINCIDENTALLY, that should be about the time
this site will be caught up on FFnet's. Shouldn't affect anything for you all, but it'll be the
same free content on both sites.

And of course, if you want to READ AHEAD thirty-odd chapters, well... go to SubStar.
Adult. Slash. KajaWilder. :It's cheap, easy, effective, and comes with free cute or smutty pics
I curate for chapter covers. :)

Chap. 68: What Lies Ahead

Over breakfast, Sirius, whose house was cleaned and mostly packed away now with a lot of
the furniture covered by sheets and wards prepared to lock up the house from anyone except
he, Harry, or Remus for the rest of the school term, asked a question that broke Harry from
his troubled, if pleased thoughts. "So what're you doing over the next few months, Miss
Delacour?"

Fleur, who had been quite happy to meet Sirius (who had himself been the perfect gentleman
as far as Harry knew, and almost completely able to resist whatever charm she used against
him a few days before), smiled benignly at the older wizard, "I will be sztaying at 'Arry's
'ome, if 'e permits me, I theenk. Someone must stay zhere and finish zhe preparations. I steel
work at Gringott's during ze day, of courze, as well."

"Of course you can, Fleur," he told her seriously, "It's... your home, too, after all."

"Zhank you, 'Arry," she beamed at him, and he felt a foot slide up the inside of his thigh
teasingly, no doubt from her if her wink was any sign. "After zhat, when ze 'ouse is fully
ready for residents, I will leave Gringott's, and stay zhere full-time. Someone must also keep
it up, you see."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully, "I'm still kind of annoyed you won't show it to me, Pup, but I
guess I can't blame you wanting to keep it a surprise for now. What's on the agenda for you
two?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, shrugged, then looked over at Sirius as she finished off her tea,
her plate just as empty as Harry's now, "School, of course, but beyond that I'm not sure. We
still need to find Vicky and see if there's a way to get Isabella Ross from Draco's clutches, but
I'm starting to doubt that's feasible anymore."

"I'm surprised Dumbledore didn't find him over the holidays," the older wizard groused,
"Since he told us that it'd be easier with fewer students in the castle."

"There's got to be a reason," Harry told him diplomatically, "we'll just have to see. I'll ask
first chance I get. Come on, Hermione, Lilith, we should get ready to go. You should finish
packing too, Padfoot. Train's leaving in an hour."

They had been sitting at the table for more than two hours, since Harry had been forced to
explain what all the letters had been about.

He kept only Mr. Greengrass' to himself, for now. Fleur and Sirius didn't need to worry about
it, there was nothing they could do, anyway. Not yet.

There was something Fleur could do about another matter, though. He looked over at her,
grinned, and said, "Hey, Fleur? If you get bored, I have something that needs doing. You'd be
good to take the lead on this little project of mine... if you're interested. I'll talk to you more
about it in a letter. Probably write it on the train, if I can get time, or in the next couple of
days after getting back to Hogwarts."

"Of course, 'Arry," she smiled, the foot on his crotch rubbing a little more firmly, then
withdrawing down his leg before she stood, her wand causing the long-empty dishes to move
toward the sink and begin washing themselves. "Anyzhing you need."

"You are certain," Voldemort hissed, his usual black robes closing about his person as if
formed from shadows themselves, as he pushed away the eager mouths that had been on his
cock. Theodore Nott Sr. nodded, gesturing once more to the image in the old book he had
brought from his family's library. The creature carefully drawn within did indeed match the
descriptions of the woman who had fought alongside his nemesis at the train station weeks
before. If the descriptions and more crude drawings the three surviving Death Eaters who had
seen it were to be believed, it did indeed look very much like the creature shown in ink.

Voldemort read the ancient words carefully, for even he occasionally struggled with English
so old it could barely be called that, which was scattered with more ancient Germanic and
Latin than his own native tongue. But he was hardly inexperienced at doing just that, so it did
not take him more than a few minutes to understand the basic incantations, the binding
rituals, and move from there to contemplating the usefulness of such a creature.

It would be, almost by its nature, better than any human at pleasing him, for example.

Voldemort allowed himself to imagine it for a few moments. Not just one, but three or more
of these otherworldly beings, entirely devoted to his rapture, able to please him more deeply
and constantly than any human.

Then he scowled, and looked at the women he had already pushed away. "Out." Then, at
every single Death Eater in the room. He named them, for the most part, sparing only three,
and then repeated the command.

Once his throne room was much more empty, he stood, taking hold of the floating book with
one hand, and using his wand to conjure a table and chairs, just large enough for five people.
His own seat, of course, was more ornate and comfortable, but he gestured with a benign
smile, "Sit, my friends. We have much to discuss. You three... this is the creature you saw,
correct?"

"N- Not that creature, My Lord," the sole female in the room, a rather attractive specimen
he'd never bothered with before aside from her skill with a wand and whose name he did not
know, said quietly, "But one of the same kind. I'm certain of it. This one looks like it had...
lighter colored plates, but the one we saw was darker, almost purple. Same shape and form,
tails, horns, wings."

"A Succubus, then."

The owner of the book, Theodore Nott Sr., nodded grimly. "As you know, My Lord, my
family has had a history with summoning creatures from other realms. My great-great-
grandfather penned this work. It was said he died in the embrace of that creature he sketched,
but only after learning a fair bit about what they could do. This is, I believe, the definitive
work on the subject."

"I see," Voldemort hissed, and scanned through the pages a little more quickly, listing off a
few of the being's known abilities. "Translocation through a means that is not Apparition...
Creating fire in the hands, much like a transformed Veela. Interesting. Invisibility, flight,
inducing... arousal. Emotional manipulation. Most interesting indeed."

What Voldemort did not mention to his underlings was a sudden new, sneaking suspicion that
he had fallen prey to that very thing. His own much-compounded lust had been nearly a thing
of the past. His current body should not have even been capable of feeling it. He'd wondered
at the time... Now he knew.
It was because of this new piece on the board, the one Potter had apparently summoned and
bound to his service. Through their connection, one that Voldemort had been trying to use for
a year now, that it had begun to affect him, instead. He scowled, even as his needy loins
began to cry out for more attention.

"On your knees," he hissed to the woman, "You will get your reward now. I must think on
this. Nott, you have done well. Your offspring continues to grow in strength. Soon, you will
both be rewarded greatly. Until then, thank you for... loaning me this book. I shall read it with
great interest."

The woman was already sucking on him beneath the table, which did at least cause a little
relief. It was annoying, he decided, that even though he now knew where the feelings and
desires were coming from, he felt powerless to stop them.

It wasn't as if he really wanted to, of course. No... he simply wanted Potter dead. After that,
his immortality would be secure, and he would have access to all the world's pleasures
without fear of repercussions. But how to go about removing the creature? He needed more
information, but if what he'd seen while skimming the pages was true, the thing would be
difficult, if not impossible, to destroy by normal means. Wounded, yes. Killed, not so much.

And while their primary purpose was pleasure, he could see with ease how a creature like that
would be useful in combat. Deadly, even. In fact... he'd seen evidence of it, at the end of the
last school year.

Voldemort frowned. The burns and slash marks on the Carrow siblings, for example. She, the
Succubus that Potter had summoned, had been with him at least then. Yes, the timing fit. No
doubt, at some point he would have to summon at least one of his own, if only to counter
Potter's. Unless there was some method to strip her from his possession, take her for himself.
Killing her would be an option, of course, but as loathe as Voldemort was to admit Harry
Potter was anything akin to a capable wizard, if he had summoned a demon at the age of
fifteen, then he could do so now at sixteen.

Demonology was hardly a safe art, true, which was why precious few families had any books
on the subject at all. That Nott had been able to recognize the creature based on descriptions
alone spoke highly of his family's expertise in the matter. Being able to provide a tome
detailing the creatures' known abilities and powers was even more useful. Yes, he would be
rewarding Nott. The risks for himself, though... even he had rarely done such things. Extra-
planar creatures had been used in a few of the rituals that had gained him great power before
his first body was destroyed, but the knowledge that even he could be subverted to the lesser
being's will was an ever-present thing in his mind, gnawing at him with self-doubt every time
he had to turn to one for aid.

A Succubus, considerably more powerful than the lesser demons he had brought to this world
years before, would pose a greater threat... unless he were able to command her as Potter did
his. Yes... he would have to use a few powerful divinations to find out exactly what Potter
had done to bind her. It would take him some time, not least of which to pierce the veils of
time and Hogwarts' protections, but he knew how it would be done already. And time was
something Lord Voldemort hat plenty of. After all, he was already immortal.
Only one method could possibly kill him, and only the old fool Slughorn had any idea
exactly how protected he was. Voldemort's lips twisted into a rictus grin as the female Death
Eater suckled on him harder. Yes... he would pay a dear price if that information got out. He
was already going to die, for having openly sided with Dumbledore. But Voldemort knew his
cowardice would prevent him from telling the old mage what he knew. Just in case, though,
he needed to be removed, and quickly.

He would tolerate no threat to his safety. So before even Potter, Horace Slughorn had to die.

"Turn," he hissed downward, "hike up your robes, but stay beneath the table like a dog in
heat. Yes, that's it... I can sense you are prepared to be claimed by your master..."

Harry and his friends, now including the Weasley siblings, Molly, Arthur, Charlie, and the
group of strays that had spent the entire holiday at the Burrow because of the attack, surveyed
Platform 9 3/4 carefully as they stepped, one after another, out of either the Floo or
apparition. Harry and Lyra alone had come via Shadowstep, appearing a moment before
Hermione and then Sirius had stepped from his home's Floo connection into the central
London station. He could see no outward signs of damage from the attack three and a half
weeks ago, but the evidence of it was still everywhere.

The crowd was significantly smaller, for one thing. The final death toll was counted at
ninety-seven souls, counting four Death Eaters, five Giants, and one Dragon. Because of the
lost, family and friends that might have seen them off were not present, too.

Some, he thought might be Apparating or taking the Floo to Hogwarts' gates, or Hogsmeade
and arriving from there.

But there were still signs of the attack, even if there was no visible damage.

Aurors in their magenta and gray robes lined the platform, more than thirty that Harry could
see, and looking past the repaired scarlet steam-engine showed him more going down the
tracks, too. The Daily Prophet got it right, then, he thought grimly, the Auror presence is
pretty strong. Let's hope it's enough if they do try anything. Don't think they will, though...
he'll come at us a different way, next time.

That was the problem with being on the defense, Harry knew. It was why he wanted to be the
one attacking the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Reacting always hurt.

But there was nothing he could do for now, Lilith had been right at the Burrow. The army he
needed at his back was not ready. He might be getting close himself, but they weren't nearly
as prepared. Still, Harry saw signs they were moving in that direction as he looked around the
platform, winding through the thin crowd. Neville and Hannah's eyes, grim as his own, hard,
flanked Susan Bones, who looked nervous but wore a steely expression as she met his eyes,
nodded once, and kept moving onto the train. Katie Bell, weeping as she wheeled her trunk
and cat's carrier on a trolley at the fringes of the crowd the Weasleys had brought, but
determined still. Lavender, Parvati, and Padma, all arriving together, who fell in behind the
Weasleys without a word, offering silent support for the orphaned children that followed
them.
The Slytherin contingent, all of them he still trusted, arrived together from the left-most Floo,
wands drawn in one hand, and shrunken trunks floating behind them. Even Astoria looked
angry still, her too-young eyes sweeping the crowd for any threat. Harry met Tracey's eyes
first, but she vanished behind moving families, hurrying to get onto the relative safety of the
train. Astoria saw him next, and he raised a hand, beckoning them to join his group. He
watched the smaller blonde point him out to the others, and without question they joined the
group, but still kept their wands out. At least, he noted, they were watching everyone else,
not his own growing cluster.

But no one gave them any problems this time, even if a few others sent them nervous looks,
and other Slytherins glares instead.

The Carrow twins, who he'd briefly met at Millicent's and then again at Slughorn's Christmas
party, moved to the opposite side of the group together, keeping an outer perimeter in open
defiance of expectation. "Ron, Ginny," he asked softly, "Go join the Carrows, would you?
Back them up if there's trouble."

"Huh? Oh, sure, Harry," Ron murmured, slowing slightly to push his way through the
orphans they surrounded with his younger sister in tow. Harry himself grinned. A few months
ago, Ron would've protested protecting any Slytherin, especially two he didn't know well at
all.

He had probably seen them at the Platform, if only briefly, before the fighting. Harry
would've expected him to assume (wrongly) that they had left before the attack on purpose.
But he still went to protect them, and as he took up a position in front of them with Ginny
behind, one of the twins looked over the shorter students between them at Harry, obviously
confused.

He smiled back, mouthed, "Backup," and went back to scanning the crowd.

Dean was not there, as far as he could see. He'd been at the Burrow for three days, according
to Ron, but then been sent along to his family. No one had heard from him since. Harry
resolved to encourage Neville either to spend more time in the quarters- Slytherins or not- or
he, Harry, would have to spend more time in the dorms himself. Neville would be alone, after
all, if both he and Ron were occupied of an evening.

Then again, now the only sixth-year boys that would be staying in the dormitory assigned to
them had Runes, and were part of Harry's inner circle of friends, so maybe it would become
an alternate trysting spot. Maybe riskier than the quarters, but still available.

He saw more familiar faces, both friendly and not, before they had crossed the platform. He
and Hermione, without discussion, joined Arthur and Molly, Sirius, and Remus who had
arrived a moment before, at the doors while the students in their care moved onto the train
one after the other. Molly made it a point to hug each one, encouraging them to write if they
could, and sent them on their way.

By the time he and Ron were the last ones, she pulled them both into a tight embrace at the
same time, "Be safe, my boys. Keep your sister safe, too."
"We will, Mum," Ron muttered, clearly embarrassed.

Harry didn't mind. Even in public, he was happy to be shown affection these days. He hugged
her back, then pulled away in time for Arthur to steal one before Sirius and then Remus
could.

"Be safe, Kiddo," Sirius muttered, "I'll see you in the Great Hall."

Harry nodded, and reminded himself that even if Sirius was only teaching DADA to the
younger years, he was still available just to talk outside of class hours. He hadn't seen nearly
enough of his godfather. "We'll meet you there."

A few short minutes later, the last of the students were onboard, and the train started moving
ten minutes early. If nothing else, perhaps the slight change in schedule would keep another
attack from finding them.

When Harry, his own trunk shrunken in his pocket and wand still in hand stepped into the
train-car's corridor, he did not expect what he saw. His closest friends, Ron, Hermione,
Ginny, were vanishing into the compartment at the farthest end, the slender red-head giving
him a sultry smile and a wave as she vanished with her brother and best friend. That wasn't
all that unusual. What surprised him was everyone else who had joined their group, the
Slytherins including the now seventh-year Carrow twins, Katie, Lavender, Parvati and Padma
Patil, Hannah Abbot, and Susan Bones all standing against the outer wall in some reasonable
facsimile of 'attention'. Then, almost as if they had rehearsed it, every single one of that
group's wands came up to their brow, which lowered in a shallow bow.

Harry felt his face heat and darken suddenly, but the moment passed quickly as he
remembered that, at least this time, they had fought beside him. This was not the mindless
hero-worship that he was so used to seeing. This was eleven people who had been attacked,
and chosen to fight back, just as he had. He and they had shed blood together, spilled it
together too, in most cases. They were comrades at arms, giving respect to the one who had
stepped up and taken the lead.

Harry Potter was not a person who enjoyed attention. He did not enjoy this. But he found, as
he analyzed his own feelings, that he could respect it. Disregarding how these young witches
and wizards felt would be imposing his own wishes and will on them, and telling them they
had no right to feel how they did. Foolish, he concluded, before forcing his face to smile
faintly. He tried to imitate the salute-like gesture, feeling awkward and clumsy while he did
so, but each and every one of them were watching him closely, and when Harry raised his
head, they were smiling, too.

Even Cassius Warrington, who was stern and disapproving of expression most of the time,
was smiling, if a bit grimly.

"So, what's this all about, then?"

Pansy, the nearest one to him, glanced down the hall at her peers, then looked back to him
and said quietly, "It's a... well, an Auror's salute. It's meant to honor someone who fell in
battle, or who risked their life to save someone else."
Harry thought about the words for a few seconds, tried his best to truly understand what they
were saying. The second seemed more easily understood, for he definitely had been put in
peril during that attack, when he could have fled with Lilith. The same applied to each of
them, in return. But it also seemed to Harry, as he thought about it, that in a way he had died
for his friends. He'd certainly been willing to, but it was more than that. As if his old self was
gone, replaced now with something new.

The him that now felt emotions quite as strongly as before, according to Lilith, who'd only
kept them suppressed for about a day, but that now was in control of them. He had, in some
ways, mastered himself. He was not a child, or a even a child-warrior, and not in a way that
changed with the loss of his virginity, either.

Quirrel had been a death he caused without knowing how or why. Tom Riddle's shade, and
the Basilisk, had been either not alive or very inhuman and inhumane. Dementors, he didn't
know if any had died in the third year, but for them he could feel no remorse. No one had
died in his fourth year except Cedric Diggory and Barty Crouch Sr., but Harry knew the
second death had nothing to do with him, and the first had not been his fault aside from
trying to share a victory. The last year... well, he would've been happy to see Umbridge kick
the proverbial bucket, but the political and social sabotage Lilith had inflicted on the woman
was good enough, and Snape? Harry was just happy he was gone from the castle.

But the deaths of his friends and the Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic had changed him,
started a process he had not wanted to begin. It seemed that the attack on innocents at King's
Cross had finished it. Harry would not, could not, stand by and let others steer his destiny or
the path of the war.

It was his to fight, by prophecy and choice.

And fight it he would. If it meant stepping into the limelight and taking the lead, he would do
it. After all, Harry James Potter had always been one to rise to the occasion. This was no
different, except that he knew what he was getting into and chose to do it anyway.

His future family required it, and his present family needed it.

So Harry stood tall, gave them each the salute again, trying to put even more meaning and
feeling into it, then asked another question. "Let me guess... you each want to talk to me?"

Pansy's face turned a bit pink too, but she nodded, "Yes, well, at least the Slytherins do. I'm
not sure about Bell, Bones and Abbot."

Harry glanced at the two Hufflepuffs, then nodded, "Alright. Let me put my things away
really quick. Is there a compartment? Assuming we need privacy?"

Warrington grinned, "Turns out there's a bit of extra space. We've got the whole car to
ourselves, actually. No one even questioned it when they saw our big group showing up. The
ones up there and behind us are filled with the Weasley's guests."

"Alright, well, I'll be right back. You can figure out who I talk to first, I suppose. Civilly, of
course."
"Of course," Pansy scoffed, as if it was inconceivable that they would be anything but.

Harry met more eyes, giving each a nod if he could swing the timing, as he walked down the
hall and stepped into the last compartment. The others were already there, each looking up at
him with an expectant grin. "You knew it was going to happen? I hate you all."

Ron snorted, wrapping his arms around Hermione and Lyra's shoulders, "Nah, you just hate
the attention. It's good for you, though."

Ginny, sitting next to Neville on the other bench, shifted to make it easier for him to put his
tiny trunk up onto the shelf, then stretched out on it, putting her head in the blonde boy's lap.
"You go on, Harry. We'll be here."

"Might take half the ride or more," he told them, "Apparently everyone wants a word."

"Well, you are Harry Potter," Hermione said succinctly, looking down at a book he knew she
wasn't reading as a grin spread across her face.

"You still all suck. But alright, you lot have fun... don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's nothing you wouldn't do though, Master," Lyra said with a giggle.

"There are some things," he protested, "another bloke, maybe."

Ron coughed something that sounded suspiciously like, "Iris," which made the girls who
knew they'd been together that way giggle, and Neville to look around questioningly.

"I still hate you all," Harry laughed as he turned around and headed into the hall.

Now, Cassius was the only one in it, sitting on a conjured chair as the slow clack, clack of the
train on the rails began to pick up speed until the sound nearly vanished into a constant
vibration. The older wizard pointed at the door next to him, "This one's empty except for
your first, uh, appointment. Figured I'd stand guard in case anyone decides to get uppity. The
rest are in those two compartments."

"Alright. Thanks, Warrington," Harry said with a genuine smile.

The older man snorted and stuck out his hand, "Nah, mate, it's no problem. Also, Cassius. Or
Cass. That's what Milly calls me. Kinda grew on me."

"Sure, Cass," Harry said, shaking his hand briefly, then glancing at the door. The curtains
were down, so he couldn't see who was waiting for him. "No clue?"

"Nope. You'll see. Female, though."

"They're all female," Harry chuckled.

"Lucky. Don't get me wrong, Milly's great, but man... a guy can dream. Bastard."

"Sometimes," Harry agreed, then rapped on the door with his knuckles and pulled it open.
"Er, hi, Katie," he said quietly as the door slid shut behind him. He took the seat opposite her,
and shot a quick silencing spell at the door, which made the dusky-skinned girl blush a little
as she watched him. Once his wand was back in his sleeve, he looked at the slightly older
witch and asked plainly, "What's up?"

Her blush deepened, but not as much as he might've thought, given the words that, a few
minutes later, would begin spewing from her. At first, though, she was clearly hesitant to say
anything. Her mouth opened and closed several times before the normally brazen chaser and
his current Quidditch Captain got out so much as a peep. Even then, she started speaking six
or seven times, getting out either single syllables or short word before starting over. "H-
Harry," she finally began, "I... I've given it, a, uh... a lot of thought. Over the last few months,
actually, because... well, what I... what we had with the others... I mean Fred, George, Alicia,
and Angelina and I... it was special. Now... with Alicia gone, I... well, you remember most of
this, I'm sure."

He nodded, "I remember you talking about how it was different, that you'd largely lost
interest in... being with them. That it was still fun, but not the same."

She nodded again, looking more at his feet than his face, then gave a long, slow sigh. "I...
when we shagged on the stands, I... felt like I cheated on them, somehow. I liked it, it felt
good, but it... I felt like I was betraying them, but especially Alicia. She was my first, you
know. Well, my first lover. George took my cherry."

She looked up at him as if waiting for a reaction, but Harry did and said nothing, merely
watched and listened with interest. He didn't particularly care who'd been with Katie first,
though it was interesting to hear that her first truly sexual experience had been with a witch.

"It was the night of the Yule Ball," she explained, at least a little unnecessarily, though it
seemed to matter to her for some reason Harry could not understand, "the twins had... well,
you know Fred took Angelina, and I went with George. Alicia had some Beuxbatons bloke
on her arm, but she didn't stay with him long once the dancing started. Frederic, I think his
name was. Doesn't matter. As the ball wound down, the twins, um... they sort of had been
feeding us some mulled mead in our drinks. We knew of course, but all three of the girls had
agreed to go along with it as long as... we didn't go too far.

"Turns out too far was them taking us to their secret potions lab and having their way with
us- all three of us. I was just drunk enough to let it happen, since both of the older girls were
encouraging it. George and I did it first, or... well, Alicia and I had already been fooling
around a bit in the locker rooms after most practices. Sometimes when Angelina was there,
sometimes not. But this was different."

Harry nodded, he could see why.

Katie continued on faster, more confidently as he continued to not react overmuch, but still
kept her voice quiet. "When Alicia started feeling me up over my dress robes, the twins got
really into it, and Lee showed up a bit later, with some Fire Whiskey he'd smuggled in from
somewhere. Not long after, he was fucking Angelina, who was sucking on Fred's dick- the
first one I'd seen since I didn't see Lee start off. And I couldn't look away. Then Alicia took
off my clothes, and George... well, she sucked him a bit, then went down on me while he
watched, and... then we shagged."

Harry nodded again, "Okay. I mean, you don't have to tell me this, but I'm happy to listen if
you feel you need to get it off your chest or... whatever."

Katie shook her head quickly, "It's... it's not like that. I'm, er... trying to build a bit of context
here, Harry. Just... listen, okay? I'm almost done."

"Alright, sorry. Go ahead."

"After he was done, letting his load out on my chest, Alicia gave me some of it with her
fingers. It wasn't bad. But then I... I wanted more. Not of that, not really, but more fun. The
others weren't done. Alicia and Angelina both started, er, cleaning George's dick with their
mouths, and Lee moved over to Alicia without stopping. I was a bit surprised at how... easily
they swapped. No one really even said anything, they just... changed partners when they
wanted to. And I figured, well... I was still randy, and Fred wasn't getting more than a hand-
job from Angelina while she sucked off his brother... so I started sucking him off, instead.
Then we shagged again, and... well, to make a long story short, that night I was with all of
them. Lee even finished in my mouth, and Fred in my cunny. And ever since, we'd been...
well, whenever we could get together. Or wanted to, if it was a smaller group, even just two."

"Okay," Harry nodded, "I'm assuming you knew about... how Alicia earned her side-money,
then?"

Katie nodded, "Y- Yeah. I did too, a little, but only a few times. Angelina did it a bunch too.
I... we never charged each other. Late last year, after you'd already been kicked off the team
by Umbridge, we talked it out. Lee's idea was to go to Africa and do that group marriage
thing, but by then we'd gotten so used to the idea of just... all being together, none of us
questioned it. And you know the rest."

"I s'pose," Harry agreed, "but I'm still not really seeing a point to the story. Sorry. I mean, I
know it's important to you, but..."

Katie swallowed, looked out the window where the last homes of London's northern suburbs
were beginning to grow more sparse between Enfield and Barnet, and the last station of the
Picadilly Line ended what the muggles thought of the train line.

Wizard-kind knew it kept on, moving underneath the Trent Park Cemetery in the suburb of
Cockfoster, and further north into a great many fields, eventually meeting up with another
main rail-line sixty miles south of Hogsmeade Valley.

Katie swallowed again, then looked Harry in the eyes and told him, "I haven't enjoyed having
sex except for with you since... Alicia died. I've tried with the others, it's not... not the same. I
don't want to never... enjoy it again."

Harry looked at her seriously, then asked a question he thought he never would, "Even Fred,
George, and Lee together can't...?"
The unfinished question seemed to make perfect sense to Katie, for she shook her head, "Not
once."

He didn't really want to explain what he was about to, but it wouldn't be fair to her not to. So
he told her everything. About Lilith, the powers it granted along with the Runes. How
Daphne, then Tracey, and even Pansy in her own way had decided to be with him, and how
Fleur Delacour had now been added to the mix as well. Finally, he asked one question, which
would change his decision about what he thought she was trying to tell him. "If... if you do
this, if you join us... are you okay being with the others, too? It'd include... well, Ginny and
Ron. I don't want it to be weird with the twins, but... we're not really a group package, they'd
never force you. You can just be with me. But you'd have to be aware that, if you go all in,
and get Runes... no one else has been able to stop from just being with everyone. The need
is... strong. Not just to have a lot of sex, but to be with more people. And the longer the
Runes are on, the stronger it gets, at least so far."

Katie swallowed once more, and looked back down at the ground for a few seconds. Then
she looked up, her expression determined, "I used to love sex, Harry. I'd... after that first night
with the whole group, I don't know if I would want to be with just one person, even if only
one can really get me off. It still feels good. I... I still like to watch, and... well, sharing is
caring."

Harry grinned, and she smiled, too. "Alright. Well, we have a few Rune rituals we need to do
when the term starts back up, including yours it seems. I know Ginny and Ron will be excited
to have you with us."

Katie blushed.

His grin widened. "Ah... so you've been checking one of them out, huh? Both, maybe?"

This time, Katie nodded, "B- Both... I mean, I do have a thing for red-heads... given the
twins."

"Ah... so I'm going to be third-fiddle then, huh? Don't worry," he chuckled as she looked
more embarrassed than before, "It's fine... there's plenty to go around. Er... not to sound too
forward, but... did you want to...?"

"Shag?"

He nodded.

"Not just now," Katie said with a little giggle, "You've got a queue, you know. But I'm
patient. You'll have to let me know when... when you want to do that ritual."

"I will," he promised, standing after her, "I'll be in the Common Room more often this term, I
think. Got some semi-permanent guests in the quarters I was given for Lilith."

"I see... well, not to worry, Harry. Whenever. I mean, I'm not desperate and needy... yet."

"Alright," he laughed, and started to rise, a hand extended to help her up.
Katie shook her head, though, and whispered quietly, "There's... there's something else."

Harry sat back down casually. He trusted Katie, and she was clearly hesitant to tell him...
whatever it was. He could give her time.

"I'm just going to say it," she finally said after staring at the worn carpeting between them for
several seconds. Then Katie looked up at Harry, "I think Ron and Ginny are shagging... each
other."

Harry's nonchalant, "They aren't," made Katie blink.

She protested, "They are, though. I... I know, it's super weird, and... I don't want them to
know I told you, but if Ginny is cheating on you, with her own brother, I... I figured you had
the right to know."

Harry held up a finger and opened his mouth to speak, but Katie kept going, "I heard- and I
saw, well, them. It was while we were at the Burrow, after... after the Station, you know? I
was helping Mrs. Weasley with breakfast, and she sent me out to check on them because they
were taking too long to gather eggs, and... and I heard them, in Mr. Weasley's muggle shed.
She was, uh... you know, using her mouth on him. At least, that's what it sounded like, and he
kept telling her to, you know, suck more. And stuff."

"Is that all?"

"W- what? Is that all? Harry, I'm almost certain Ginny was- was giving Ron a blow-job. I
s'pose I don't know for sure if they've done more, but..."

"Hold on," Harry interrupted, holding up a hand, "I already knew that. They've been doing it
for months. I told them it was okay."

"But... but they're siblings."

"And? None of us, including Ron or Ginny, can either conceive a child without both parties
wanting to. We can't catch, carry, or pass on diseases. So what's the harm? It's not so
different, for us, than having George and Fred both shagging the same girl. Just one less layer
of separation between them. It's just fun."

"F... Fun. Harry..."

"I'm serious," he told her quietly, "there's really no risk. And it's kind of hot. Hotter, knowing
that they are that close. I've actually encouraged it. I think Lilith is trying to give me a real
incest kink... and I have to say, it's working."

"You... you're really okay with your girlfriend... shagging her brother?"

"Okay with it? I want them to. I want to be there, I want to watch. Besides, she's not my
'girlfriend' so much as she is my Pet. Part of that is girlfriend in public, but Hermione is more
my girlfriend than Ginny is. And she shags Ron, too, obviously."
Katie fell quiet, and he let her digest the information he had just dumped on her for more than
ten minutes. Eventually, the girl murmured, "So... When you said 'all of us', you mean... like,
really all of us? Everyone just... shags each other?"

"Pretty much. Whenever we want. We do have a rule about homework being done first, of
course, or we'd all get our grades in the bin, but aside from that, yeah."

The Chaser let out a long, slow breath. Then, "I'm in. It's crazy... but... I'm in. It's just like
what... what we were going to do before Alicia. Just... more of you."

"And a Succubus."

"And a Succubus," Katie agreed with a smile, then stood up before Harry could help her
again. "I'll... just let me know when you're ready to... to do that ritual, then. Alright?" A
moment later, she was out the door.

It hadn't closed when someone else came in. "Er, hi, Hannah. Good morning, or maybe
afternoon, Susan."

Without time to recover from the previous conversation, or get his head back into a useful
space, the blonde, who was always the more confident of the pair and who was hardly shy
around Harry anymore, led her best friend in, shut and locked the door with the latch and her
wand, then silenced it as well before joining Susan on the bench opposite Harry.

"Hi, Harry," Hannah greeted cheerfully, seeming much more at-ease now that they were away
from the platform where the attack had happened less than a month before. Susan, on the
other hand looked just as nervous to Harry's eyes as she had been during the middle of the
battle.

The red-head gave him a little half-bow, partially rising from her seat, and flushing as if she
were embarrassed she'd forgotten to greet him as she stammered, her voice quiet, "H- Hello.
Um, G- Good afternoon, Harry."

Hannah only rolled her eyes when Harry glanced in her direction, and hooked her thumb
toward her best friend, "Don't mind her, she's just got some nerves. I don't mind doing the
talking, though. She's ready, Harry."

"For...?"

"To shag," Hannah said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "For her
Contract, remember? She was already leaning toward it, but after the attack... well, let's just
say that it's moved up her priorities."

Harry frowned, then looked to the quieter girl, "Susan, don't take this the wrong way, but
that's a terrible reason to jump into things. I'm not saying no. If you still want to after we've
talked about this a bit, then I'll agree to what we talked about before. But one terrible,
traumatic experience should not make you jump into motherhood before you reach majority."

"That's tomorrow," Susan said quietly.

"Okay," Harry acknowledged, "but I'm not ready to be a father, either. We're still in school. I
know things seem terrible, that Voldemort and his flunkies could kill us at any time, but that's
just not true. As long as Dumbledore is at the castle, Voldemort himself wouldn't dare attack
it. We know they had or have a plan to get Death Eaters into the school, but we've already
taken care of that. They're walking into a lethal trap if they try."

"I... that's good to know," Susan replied quietly, "but I don't have a choice."

"Okay. Why? What's taking away your choice and making this all happen so much sooner?
We agreed to next year, or over the summer, right?"

"It is next year," Hannah pointed out reasonably, then reached over to take her best friend's
hand, "But that's not the important bit. Her Auntie was killed last week."

Harry suddenly felt almost dizzy, as if the air had suddenly gone out of the room. "What?"

It seemed fantastic, inconceivable, a total impossibility that the stern, powerful witch who
had so easily commanded the arriving Aurors and civilians at the Station had suddenly gone,
and he hadn't even heard about it.

"It's top-secret," Susan whispered, "The new Minister's keeping it quiet. Doesn't want to
cause a panic."

Harry frowned. That was the exact sort of mentality that had gotten so many killed over the
last year!

Still, at least this time, he had to agree the Minister, whoever they were, had a point. Bones
being who she was, she'd been a symbol of hope and strength. Without her, their side
suddenly seemed a fair bit less secure. "Fuck. I'm so sorry, Susan... I hadn't heard."

She only shook her head a few times, "It's... it's fine. I don't want everyone making a big
deal... it's just... there's no one else. My parents, my brother, my uncle and aunt... I'm the last
one."

"Like I'm the last Potter," Harry said evenly.

She nodded once, but didn't say anything.

"Alright," he agreed, "When do you want to start?"

She blushed at once, but again Hannah took pity on her friend, and gave her hand a visible
squeeze. "She, uh... lacks an education, you might say. Didn't attend more than the first,
mandatory class, and is unsure how it all works. I've tried to say, but..."

"Showing helps?"

This time, it was the blonde who nodded.

But he doubted that Susan Bones, as shy as she naturally was, would want to watch someone
else just yet. Maybe after she had a bit of experience under her belt. Still, there were options.
"Alright. Well... let me ask a few questions, if you don't mind, Susan. Hannah, I need her to
answer, not you. In fact, at any point from now on, Susan can kick you out, at least for now.
This is between us, not you, but I don't want to be rude about it if she prefers you to be here."

"That's fine," Hannah agreed, giving her friend a significant look. It was entirely possible, as
experienced as she was, that Hannah already suspected what he was going to be asking her.
"What about it, Susan?"

"Stay," she replied.

"Alright," Harry nodded, then leaned back and stretched his arms over the back of the bench,
"Would you prefer to be taught by a boy or a girl? Or both, together?"

She swallowed. Glanced at Hannah as if she was embarrassed to even be thinking about it.
Then whispered, "B- Boys."

Harry had expected as much, but then again... you never knew. "Would you be interested to
be with another girl? Because they are different, after all. Both are great, from what I
understand, just in different ways."

Susan only shrugged, glancing at Hannah nervously again, who didn't seem to react much.
After a few seconds though, the blonde patted her friend's hand, then pulled her own back as
she moved away to sit diagonally against the wall next to the door. "I've been with both,
yeah, Suze. Not that big a deal. Both made me cum, I've made both cum."

"R- Right," Susan replied softly, her face suddenly darker than her hair. "I... I've just never..."

"That's alright," Harry reassured her, "It's not for everyone, and there's no pressure.
Everything we talk about in this compartment is just between us, and I don't judge. If you
want to try it, go for it. If you don't, then don't worry about it. But I'll tell you right now, if
you get a set of Runes, you'll be as randy as Hannah before too long. It happens to everyone
that gets them."

"I... I don't think I'd ever... lately, it's all she can talk about," Susan said. She was trying to
keep her voice even and neutral, but it was obvious to both of those listening that the red-
head was confused by it, but didn't really object.

Almost like she enjoys the talk, but doesn't know how to respond to it. That makes sense, I
guess.

"Alright," he continued, "next question. Are you comfortable with me being the one to, as
Hannah said, 'educate you'? I can, and I'll probably be okay at it at least. I'm comfortable with
the idea. If not... if you'd prefer being taught by another bloke, we can arrange that. I'm sure
neither Hannah or Neville will mind. Ron would be up for it. Or there's... Lilith. She can be a
bloke, too."

Susan's mouth had fallen open while he talked, and she was still gaping back and forth
between he and Hannah when he finished.
Eventually, he took pity on her and clarified, "And to be clear, just because a boy is
'educating you' doesn't mean you have to shag... but you might want to. It's fine with me if
you do. Who you have sex with is ultimately up to you, Susan, and it always will be as far as
I'm concerned. I'm honored you want me to be your... partner, in having children. But sex and
having kids are not necessarily the same thing."

"Nope," Hannah said with a chuckle, "I can tell you I've had sex loads now, and I'm still not
ready for brats, yet."

"I... I think I'd prefer... you," Susan whispered, quieter than before.

"Done," Harry told her at once, "Let's... damn, I need to start making a schedule. Uh... let's
shoot for... next weekend, during the day. Like, this Saturday. If we can't do that, we can try
again Sunday during the day, or the weekend after that. Does that sound okay?"

The girls shared a look, then Susan nodded again, "That... that sounds fine."

"Okay, that's settled. Now, let's go over what's going to happen, so you now what to expect.
Alright?"

"S- sure."

"First, you know you're going into this with the understanding that we will be having sex, and
at some point, I'll need to conceive a few children with you. We've already verbally agreed
that I'll be in their lives, be their father. But you won't probably be my wife. Instead, you'll be
in a Concubine Contract to continue your family line. We're all on the same page there,
right?"

This time, Susan's nod was more sure.

"Excellent. Point two: You do not need to be a perfect lover, and especially not from the start,
for me to be interested in you. Don't let my experience and knowledge intimidate you. The
whole point of this is for you to learn about sex in a way that lets you enjoy it. Alright? Being
intimidated is not enjoyable, I'd know. I don't expect you to know everything, or be brave
enough to do the more... unusual things, right off the start. If you want to stick with plain
vanilla, we can do that, but you need to know that if that's all we're doing, I will be coming to
you less after the... goal is reached. Some, yes, because you're quite attractive, but less. I like
to be adventurous, too."

"D- Do you mean... like... in the bum?"

Harry almost choked at the shy question. Hannah giggled, and threw a fist into her mouth to
try to stifle them. She failed spectacularly. "Er, no," he eventually got out, shooting a glare at
the blonde, "I take it Hannah's mentioned that?"

Susan nodded shyly, if anything more embarrassed at their knee-jerk reactions than before.

Harry sighed, shaking his head, "No. Well, if you're interested, then yes, but not by default.
Or at least, that's not what I meant by 'adventurous'. Hannah happens to love it there, but she's
just one of those people. Some do, some don't. Hermione doesn't, Ginny is indifferent. It
happens. Everyone has their own preferences."

"O- Oh..."

"We'll help you find out yours during these lessons," Harry told her, "That was actually going
to be point four, but it's valid here. There's nothing at all wrong with not knowing just yet.

"So, new point four, old point three: you will see nudity. Often. Sometimes you'll see people
having sex around you. It doesn't mean you can join in necessarily, but if you ask I'm sure
most won't say no. ... Not sure any of us would object to you just watching, or getting
yourself off."

"M- m-myself?"

Again, Harry found himself shocked. "Yes... and it seems like we're going to have at least an
extra 'lesson' before the main course. That's fine, no judgment, just an interesting point. But
my... friends, like Hannah, are randy all the time. You don't have to be like that. I'm sure she's
mentioned the Runes."

The blonde nodded quickly, her face smiling, "That was a fun night, getting them."

Harry had to agree, but thought that Susan might not be ready for more details, just yet. If
Hannah hadn't already told her everything, anyway. "Well, you don't have to get them. But it
does make it more fun, and is... helpful, in breaking down some of the inhibitions we have.
So yeah, you'll want it more, and be more willing to try new things. It'll also feel better
anyway, if you do that. But again, you don't need to, and there's no pressure. Just know that if
you do, you'll end up like Hannah and the rest of us that way."

"Okay," Susan replied quietly.

"Last thing. No one outside our circle knows any details. The only reason I'm not mad at
Hannah for mentioning the Runes is because I know you'd have noticed the change and I'm
sure you asked her about it. More importantly, we kind of expected this to happen sooner or
later, so I told her ahead of time it'd be alright if she told you some things."

"Alright," Susan agreed. "I won't tell anyone. I know how to keep secrets."

"Good. I won't ask for a vow or anything, just... keep an open mind about what you will be
seeing, and don't talk about it outside of that group. It's not anyone else's business what we
get up to, just like it isn't theirs what you get up to. Right?"

"R-Right."

"Perfect. Um... did you have anything else to talk about?"

"Well, there is one little thing," Hannah murmured, looking at Susan nervously. The other girl
looked suddenly not quite nervous, but more terrified.

"Hannah, no," she whispered, almost whimpered.

"Hannah yes," the blonde said determinedly, "I've already talked to Neville about it. He said it
was fine. Believe me, we've done far more than this."

She didn't protest again as the blonde stood up and pulled the flowered blouse she was
wearing over her head, then reached back for the snap of her plain bra. Both were set on the
bench where she'd been a moment before, then Hannah crossed the compartment to sit next to
Harry. "Pants down, please."

"Er... what? Not that I'm complaining..."

He was already moving, but stealing glances at Susan's expression when he could tear his
eyes off her best friend's heavy, swaying breasts. The red-head wasn't watching Hannah,
though. Instead, she was covering her eyes, but still very obviously peeking through her
fingers at his crotch as the cloth, both layers at once, slid down to his ankles and he sat back
down.

"Not an erect penis," Hannah said, gesturing at him, "Moderate pubic hair. This is what they
look like, okay? Geez, get over it already. It's not that big of a deal."

Harry suddenly caught on to what Hannah was doing. Mostly getting a jump-start on their
lessons, but also teasing her friend... and him. Not that he'd let her get away with it. He
spread his legs then, and turned just a little so Susan could look at him straight-on, as he put a
hand around Hannah's shoulders and reached down to fondle her tit.

She sighed and leaned against him, reaching her own left hand down to take hold of his soft
penis, and ran her thumb along the end. Even flaccid, she could barely reach from base to tip
with her thumb out. But as he started growing thanks to the breasts, the digital stimulation,
and the girl clearly watching her best friend grope him, it grew beyond that quickly. In just a
few seconds, he was fully hard, and Hannah's hand covered less than a third of him at the
base. "And that's a hard one. Don't freak out, most blokes aren't this large. In fact, never seen
one quite this big. And before you think 'it'll never fit', remember it's still not as big as a baby.
It fits, it just takes some adjustment. And it feels great. Also, if you ask, Harry'll shrink down
for you. He can do that, you know."

Susan dropped her hands to her neck level in surprise as she stared at him.

He shrugged, leaning a bit more into the bench as Hannah started stroking him, and kneaded
her chest a bit more roughly, like he knew she enjoyed. "Succubus powers. She's stronger
because of our Bond, and I get some of her powers. That's one I got fairly early, besides just...
being better at everything sex-related. Still not great with it, but I can do some bits. That's
kind of easy."

To demonstrate, he got even bigger, forcing Hannah to add another hand just to circle him as
she languidly pumped, then went back to his original size, and then a bit more, something
'average'. "This is an average size I think," he told her, "See how Hannah's hand covers it all
with the thumb up, but it still takes it all?"

Susan nodded, her mouth still dropped open. Her hands hadn't come back up, but stayed
where they were, frozen in mid-air as she kept staring at her best friend's hands, which went
back to sliding over him together as he returned to his new normal.

"Alright, Suze," the more confident girl said after a few more seconds, "You've seen it. Out."

"Wh- what?"

"You said you only wanted to know what it looked like," Hannah reasoned, "Now you have.
Unless you want to see me shagging him... you should probably clear out."

"I'm fine with you staying," Harry reminded her seriously, "but now that she's gotten me
worked up, it'd be unfair not to help out with getting some release. Right?"

Without stopping to think about it, the girl nodded. "I... I'll go, then."

Hannah grinned, and kept pumping him while she unlocked the door both times, and hurried
out, slamming it shut.

Likely, given the angle, Cassius might've gotten a view of him, but he hardly cared. What
mattered was Hannah's mouth sinking onto him, further warming him up. Not even a minute
later, she was sheathing his whole cock in her arse, without lube or anything, while holding
up one tit for him to suckle. "Gods, I missed this," she moaned, "you're so much deeper than
Nev can get, Harry..."

There was no need to change positions. The way Hannah was riding him, Harry knew she
wouldn't last long. So he focused on enjoying it while it lasted, and making sure his own
climax was close enough that she could enjoy it together with him. All told, their coupling
lasted about five minutes, and Hannah's anus was still mostly dry when he filled it up with six
strong, large shots that made her moan with each one.

Then, surprising him yet again, Hannah hastened off him, and got on her knees, sucking him
deeply into her mouth. She cleaned him quite thoroughly, then stood up, showing him the
residual cum still there, and swallowed. Then she wiped her mouth with a hand, and sat down
across from him again to pull on her knickers. "Gods... It's still weird, tasting my own ass,"
she admitted, "but with yours or Nev's cum I love it. So filthy."

"You are a dirty girl," Harry chuckled, fastening himself back up as she finished dressing,
then left to rejoin her friend.

He'd just barely composed himself when Millicent came in, alone. She didn't sit down, only
held out a rolled-up scroll of parchment paper. "Two things," she said brusquely, "The current
wards on our house. I've had them updated. We're almost broke now, it took all me and Cass
had, along with the Greengrass' allowance. Pansy's got nothing anymore, just so you know.
Her parents cut her out of the will, and her trust vault is empty. I doubt she'd say anything."

Harry nodded, a bit confused, but took the rolled parchment anyway, setting it beside him for
now.

Millicent glanced out the door, which was still open, and then shut it before facing him again
with one hand still on the latch. "Cass is probably leaving school early. He can sit his
N.E.W.T.s in a month, now he's got the credits. He wants to go work for the Order for now.
Dumbledore's Order."

"O- Oh," Harry replied, genuinely surprised. He'd known the older boy, who had been held
back two years, was a skilled fighter, and more than willing, but this was a change, and quite
unexpected.

The bulky girl nodded, "I'm leaving school when he does, we're going to get married. I don't
need any N.E.W.T.s to pursue my Masters in Wards. My family's name is good enough for
that, even without... their approval."

"Er, okay," Harry acknowledged, "Not sure why...?"

"Because I'm going to need to close up the house," she told him, "once we start living there
full-time again. Over the summer it wasn't bad having everyone there, but the girls will need
another place to stay. Not because we don't have the room, it's-"

"Not safe?"

Millicent nodded firmly, "Yeah. It's got the best we could buy, and when I get there I can start
adding custom wards I'm going to be doing some research on when we get to school, but
there's only so much I can do over a month or two, and we don't want to risk the others. Most
of their things are still there, what isn't in their trunks, but I need a place to send them to."

Harry debated for only a moment. "The Floo isn't connected yet," he told her seriously, "but
I'm going to get it hooked up soon. I've got a place that should be safe enough. It'll have
Order's protection, I'm sure, and at least one member is staying there now. I'm going to talk to
the Headmaster and see if we can get a Fidelius Charm on it, too. Can't get much more
secure."

Millicent whistled, "That's tough stuff. I asked Flitwick about that last term, and he said he
can barely pull the Charm off. Takes a few tries for a house."

Harry snorted, "He's also being humble. But Dumbledore can do it. Maybe not at this place,
though, it's pretty large. Bigger than the Order's safe-house that I know of. If he can't do it,
we'll find something else. Uh... can I ask you a question about the other matter?"

Millicent cocked her head, "Uh... sure, I guess. You don't seem slow, though, so... I'm not
sure what help I can be."

"In this? A lot, I think," he told her. "You grew up in this world, I didn't, half-blood or not. It's
either a pure-blood or a wizarding customs question. Not sure which."

"Alright. Cast, then."

He blinked for a moment at the idiom, which if anything proved his point, then asked, "If I
were to set up an... allowance, for children- or students, they could be of age- to live on for a
while. Like a stipend or something. Is that... acceptable? Like, socially?"
The girl's eyebrows rose as she processed what he was asking, then she smirked, "You want
to give the girls you're shagging an allowance? That'll go over well."

"I would do it anonymously," he pointed out, "but yes. Not because we're shagging, though,
and not only them. The orphans of the attack at the platform. I can do the same for you and
Cassius, and I'm happy to. Look, I have money, more than I knew before. I'm not talking a
lot. Ten galleons a month or something, each."

Millicent's eyebrows went back up, "That's a hundred Galleons."

"I make in the tens of thousands a year in interest."

"Ah. Well... it's not by any means the most wealthy I've heard of, but you can afford it, I
suppose. Well... talk to Pansy about it. Couch it as a... anything but charity. She'd hate that,
and Daphne would never accept it either. Astoria is a bit more practical from what I've seen,
but wouldn't like it still. Tracey... who knows. She never talks to me really."

Harry nodded, considering the information she'd just handed him for a moment. "I mostly
just need to know if it's something possible, and how to do it if it is, and if the girls- or
students- would accept it if the money came in, no strings attached."

"But why? If it's no strings, then you aren't expecting sex for it, and you don't seem like the
type."

"No," Harry chuckled, "I'm not the type to pay for it. No... look, doesn't every girl- every
student, since I'll be giving it to the blokes, too- like to have some spending money, and to
eat? At school it isn't a big deal, but if I do it soon they can save up a little, and have
something to work or play with when they get out of school. More, if it goes into next year."

"That's true," Milly said thoughtfully, then nodded. "Alright, yes, it's possible. Not sure how.
Ask Pansy, she knows the bank system pretty well. It's probably through them."

"I'd... rather keep it a secret. I know who else I can ask, though. The girls wouldn't recognize
it. And it's not just Slytherins, either."

"Ooh, you slut," Milly laughed.

He grinned, "A bit, yeah. Anyway, I know who I can ask, like I said. It's... acceptable? Just
like, as an anonymous donation, nonrefundable?"

"Sure is. And if everyone gets one on the same day, it doesn't make anyone feel left out."

"Might make it easier to figure out, but all they'll know is that it's someone or someones who
have the money, and who cares about orphans and those without family to care for them."

"Which means it'll take all of five minutes for them to figure it out."

Harry frowned. "Maybe. But come on, at least the group you're more concerned about are
Slytherins. They won't be obvious or call me out if they do. Right?"
"That's true," she said with a nod. "Anyway, that's all I had to say. I think Pansy wanted to
talk to you next."

"Alright, thanks, Milly. Hey... seriously. You're amazing. Thank you."

She blushed, the first time he'd seen her go so scarlet, then left without a word.
 Decisions, both Simple and Hard

For those readers who've been loyal since I came back, thank you so much for the support. I
very much appreciate the reception I've gotten from the vast majority of readers. I like Ao3
(despite its own foibles), and I enjoy posting here for you all to read my work.
However, you IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on SubStar.
Follow my DISCORD link, then go to the "Links in General" channel at the bottom (I don't
believe you even need to have Discord, or be a member, to see that channel- and if you do,
someone PM me and I'll fix it). SubStar's posted up past Chapter 100. So... you know, it's a
long way ahead (they have started the summer after 6th).

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 100 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

DON'T FORGET to leave comments, or at least a Kudos! They help other people find the
story, too. :) Finally, a reminder that in the next few chapters the length of each will cut back
dramatically to more 'sane' levels.

Chap. 69: Decisions, both Simple and Hard

Two minutes later, once again, Pansy came into the compartment standing stiff and tall, every
bit the pure-blood princess she portrayed herself as.

It lasted six seconds after the door was shut and locked, but Harry didn't mind. Then a trio of
quick Switching spells had her robes, knickers, and bra drifting down onto the bench next to
Harry. A few seconds later, his cock was free of his trousers again, and Pansy was rapidly
stroking him with both hands, her mouth and tongue wrestling with his, as she coaxed him to
full hardness. She didn't even ask for permission before she threw her knees onto the bench
on either side of him, and guided his cock into her smooth, burning-hot depths. "F-f-
fuuuuuuck," Pansy moaned, "I needed this cock so bad, Potter. Never make me wait so long
again!"

He smirked against her lips as she started writhing and grinding her body against him in wide
circles, while thrusting her hips back and forth to drag her clit over his pubic hair, fully
holding him, but only barely. "I missed you too, Pansy. You're a horny girl, aren't you?"

"For you? Yes," she half-moaned, "I've tried and tried, but I can't... it's just not enough
without this cock of yours, Potter. So fuck me, fuck me really good!"

This wasn't like Pansy Parkinson, not that Harry had ever seen her anyway, but he wasn't
about to complain. He didn't obey, though. Instead, he rested his weight against the back of
the bench and shifted his hips forward a bit more, dragging her back so that she fell forward
against him. His hands weren't idle, sliding up and down the girl's smooth sides and back, or
kneading one breast and then the next, but he held still aside from that, letting her dictate the
pace and do the work. Her desperate, molten core was definitely going to be enough to get
Harry off, but an idea occurred to him that would make it more fun for both, he thought, in
the long run. So he held off, remained mostly motionless, while his hands continued to tease
her, bringing Pansy's arousal higher and higher as she started rising and falling on his dick
with abandon.

The dark, thick hair hung in the air long enough as she down-stroked that it barely had time
to fall before the up-stroke yanked it skyward again, and already Pansy's pussy was fluttering
and clutching at him. Little mewling noises slipped out every few panting breaths, but they
fell still as Harry cupped her left tit in both hands, giving it a squeeze, and then pulling the
nipple into his mouth. He held it there with pressure alone as his tongue slithered around it in
rough shapes, and his hands went back to massaging her other one, or cupping her firm,
bubbly arse. He used that one, too, to clutch Pansy against him as her movements shifted
quickly from rapid and fast, rhythmic, to erratic and wild. Then his mouth switched sides,
and he gave the one he'd just suckled for two minutes a hard pinch, and bucked his hips up
into her at the same time as she came down.

The impact set her off like a gun. Without further warning, Pansy's whines of pleasure and
out-of-breath, needy pants shifted into a groan loud enough that he thought the next car
might've heard it as her hips bucked against him. Fluid gushed from her, the first time he'd
seen Pansy squirt outside of being tied up, before she collapsed against him, gasping for
breath.

He let her lay there, her body shaking and quivering as it slowly came down from her orgasm
with him still buried to the hilt in her.

"You're fucking amazing, Harry," she finally whispered into his neck, then nibbled that spot a
bit with her lips, "I can't believe you can cum and still stay hard."

He snorted, and moved both hands down to her rump, giving both cheeks a squeeze. "What
makes you think I came?"

She looked up at him, frowning, "You... you didn't?"

"Nope. Not yet. I was getting pretty close."

The frown deepened. "That's... that's not fair. Hold on, I can go again, I'll just-"

"You'll what?" he asked quietly, moving one hand up her spine, making Pansy shiver, to
stroke down her raven-colored hair. "Ride me again? Use my cock for your pleasure?"

"N- No," she gasped, pushing upright on his lap again, "I- you know that's not what I was
doing! I just wanted to be with you, not use you!"

Harry tried to raise one eyebrow. He didn't know if he'd pulled it off, but either way, Pansy
wilted, "I'm sorry, Harry," she murmured, sounding genuinely upset by the idea, "I just... I
didn't want to waste time, and you'd said you... you were always ready, and..."
"And I was," he told her, taking some pity, "but you didn't ask, dearest... which means you
owe me one fucking amazing orgasm. Because that was, wasn't it? Look at my legs, they're
drenched with you."

She glanced down between them, face darkening with an almost purple-blush thanks to her
olive complexion. "I... I did? Shit, I'm sorry, Harry, I-"

"That makes you naughty," he told her quietly, "and you know what happens to naughty
young witches."

"Wh- what?"

His smirk returned full-force, as his arms went beneath her bum again, his magically-
enhanced strength more than enough to lift her up with his cock and hands alone. Then he
lifted her off of him, set her down, and spun the girl before pushing her down so that her face
was up against the seat where he'd just been sitting. He held her there, one hand on the back
of Pansy's neck, and then used his other hand to guide his rod into her core with a sigh. "Bad,
naughty, slutty girls who like to use their master's cock get punished," he finally answered,
giving her a very powerful slap with his free hand.

As she cried out in surprise and pain, he gave a single hard stroke outward and back in,
slamming Pansy's tits against the bench and her face into the cushions. His hands fell on her
hips, and he started humping. Hard, fast, relentless, Harry soon had her round arse shaking
and bouncing in waves as the tables turned. Then he grabbed her arms, twisting them back
behind her just like he had months ago atop the astronomy tower, when they'd first shagged.

The thought, once one of pain and anguish for him, now made Harry grin in remembrance.
He'd felt amazing, so powerful, so in control, back then. Now, he knew that Pansy was not
hurt by it (though she'd been humiliated and terrified at the time), but had come to relish the
sensation. She loved being used as an object to satisfy his lust. And that had been further
reinforced by the things they had done when she'd gotten her first Succubi Runes.

Now, especially with the ready-made excuse that she'd just used him (for all Harry had
enjoyed it immensely), he could fuck her with reckless abandon, returning the callous favor,
and feel no shame in it. In fact, it made him feel even stronger and in control than it had on
the Astronomy Tower, for he knew that Pansy was absolutely willing to submit to him, and
that she relished giving up her own control.

In fact, she was already climaxing again. Harry didn't stop, did not even slow down. If
anything, he started thrusting forward harder, driving her thighs into the wood below the
upholstered seat now, and reached back a hand to haul her upper torso away by the hair. Now
free, her swinging breasts fell victim to his rough handling again. Not even a minute after the
second, Pansy climaxed again, this time squirting all over the bench and floor. Harry let
himself orgasm with her, filling her pussy with the cum it was so hungry for. But he didn't
stop thrusting. Before long, she'd climaxed again, as he stirred up a frothy lather of their
fluids between them and inside her. After that one, Harry pulled out and spun her around
again, standing over her on her knees, and shoved his cock into her throat.
She slurped at it eagerly this time, caught up in the moment, in pleasing him, and in her own
pleasure. There was no look of horror at knowing who'd just fucked her silly, and was now
making her swallow what felt like a full pint of his seed. No, this time there was happiness,
satisfaction, ecstasy. Between his ankles, Harry was sure that even without his dick inside
her, without even touching her, the feel of their mixed fluids on and inside her, and servicing
his needs, was enough to make her climax a fifth time, for Pansy's hips jerked and spun in the
air spasmodically while she tried to suction his entire head off of the shaft while he gave her
another climax, just twenty seconds after the first.

When he pulled out, Pansy inhaled a ragged, choppy breath through her semen-clogged
mouth, swallowed a few times, and then laughed weakly, looking up at him with adoration as
Harry flicked a few dollops of his cum onto her big tits. She immediately leaned up and
cleaned him with her mouth like the obedient slave she was, and used her hands meanwhile
to smear his seed into her breasts, then reach down with both of them between her legs and
rub that much larger amount into her cunt, thighs, and belly too. Once he was clean, Harry
stepped away to watch Pansy finish playing with his rapidly-disappearing seed, then sat down
and reached to pull her into his lap. She sat sideways, and they kissed for several more
minutes in each other's arms, before the girl pulled away, sounding quite tired suddenly.

"I should get back," she murmured, "Thank you... Master."

She'd never called him that as far as he could recall, not even on the night they'd all used her
body for their own pleasure when Lilith had given the girl her Runes. He found himself
enjoying the mental imagery of her in a collar once more, a Pet much like Ginny was, though
more.... He grinned again, as he realized what Pansy's place should be in their growing
family. A Pet, yes, but the family pet. Ginny was his Pet, Pansy would be the family's to use
as they wished. She did so enjoy it, after all. But he could tell her that later. Now, he'd break
it to her gently, "You're welcome, Pet," he said back solemnly. She shivered at the name, but
smiled as she dressed quickly in a more mundane fashion, then leaned down to kiss him
again. "Do... are we still able to stay in your rooms?"

He nodded, pulling her down for another long, lingering kiss with one hand on her jawline,
"Of course, Pet. Unless Dumbledore himself tells me no. If that happens, then I'm leaving the
school if he fights me on it. I was serious when I said I'd protect you all with everything I've
got. I'm not above emotional blackmail if it comes down to it."

That made Pansy smile as she stood up, pulling out of his hands, and step toward the door,
her robes still half-untied. "How very Slytherin of you, Harry."

"Learned from the best," he chuckled.

She finished tying her robe, fluffed her hair a little in a useless attempt to hide just how
furiously they'd shagged, and stepped out into the corridor.

Harry only realized as the knock preceded Daphne and Tracey's entry that Pansy had
forgotten her knickers, which still showed a stain as they were crumpled on the opposite
bench.
He paled as the blonde stopped in mid-sit. Tracey stepped past her lover and sat next to the
knickers without question, while Daphne's face turned very slowly in his direction. She didn't
say anything.

Harry didn't dare to. Obviously, she knew that he and Pansy were intimate, but he didn't think
she had ever been confronted with such... direct evidence.

What would that do for her mood? Would it change how she saw him? He hoped not. He
rather liked Daphne, for all they were relative strangers who just so happened to have a sort
of half-marriage arrangement, and who liked having sex with each other.

... Odd, for a lesbian, he thought, but who was he to judge?

"Sorry," he murmured, sitting half up and reaching around her to grab the silk and fold them
hastily, before shoving the underwear into his robe pocket, "Pansy must've... forgotten them."

"I have an alternate theory," Daphne said. Her eyes had followed his every movement, he had
felt it, and she'd most certainly been looking at where the underthings had gone. "I believe
Pansy left them there for us to see. Marking her territory, as it were."

Harry frowned. "You... you know that's not her place, right? I won't... won't let anyone do
that."

Daphne only shrugged, sitting down next to Tracey, but leaving a little space where the
knickers had been, and sitting primly, as usual, with her hands clasped in her lap. "I honestly
don't care, Potter. She can stake all the claim she wants, as long as you understand and abide
by our agreement."

"Never thought about changing or not following it," he replied.

"Good. See that it stays that way. I have entrusted you with a great deal, personally. You
would not like to see what happens if that trust is betrayed."

Harry watched the girl silently for a few seconds, then replied quietly, "Noted. One day,
though, you're going to learn that I don't do that. I never have. I never will. It's not the kind of
person I am. Besides, what would be the point? Holding you over your family's head
somehow? Please. I'm not that low, and if I was, what would I possibly gain from it? What
would my motive be?"

Daphne blinked a few times, then scowled, "I have to admit that I don't know. But I'm still
wary. "

"Fair enough," he said, crossing his legs at an angle and leaning back again, though this time
only one hand went to the back of the bench, the other rested across his legs. "Let me throw
out a few ideas. You might be worried that I could blackmail you, your family. Maybe
withhold treatment for Astoria. Try to get some money from your parents, or something like
that. Any of those thoughts that've gone through your head in the last few weeks?"
Despite herself, Daphne blushed, though her artfully-applied makeup lessened the effect. But
she didn't say anything, only kept watching him with a cold eyes that grew even colder as he
spoke.

"Look," he reminded them after a moment, making sure to keep his posture relaxed, "I'm not
going to do any of that. You have my word. I care what happens to Astoria, too. No doubt,
that's why your parents sent her to me in the first place: so she could charm me into helping.
Well, it worked. She's my friend, and I don't want her to die. I'm not saying I want it as badly
as you, of course not. You're her sister. But we both want the same things, here. Your parent's
money? One day soon I'll show you my current wealth. I don't need more. Leverage over
them? Well... we can discuss that today, I suppose. But I can promise you, there is literally
nothing I could gain that I don't already have."

"Me," she reminded him, "I could back out."

"True. In which case, I would lose a beautiful lover. And what else? Nothing, really. I enjoy
being with you, Daphne, but I won't be heartbroken if you change your mind. You love
Tracey, I don't expect you to love me. I like you, I really do, but I'm not in love with you. So
what would I lose? Not much. I have other lovers, after all, and as good looking as you are, if
I wanted your body alone I could have that. Succubus, remember?

"But you stand to lose a fair bit. I'm not threatening you, so please don't take it that way. I'm
only saying out loud what you are acting like you're worried about. Stop me if I'm wrong, of
course. So, you would lose first, a father to your children. Of course you can get another, and
I'm not so arrogant as to say or even think that no one else would be as good for that. You
could move across the world and find a million blokes that are reasonably intelligent, decent-
looking, and have a fair bit of wealth to let you live comfortably. Maybe not that are also
wizards, but there are plenty of them still. You would lose my wealth, maybe, but that's again
not that important. I know your own family are fairly well-off. I do my homework, too. So
I'm replaceable, but I would like to think there's more to it. You know the rumors. The
prophecy and all. I can tell you now, it's at least partially true, and it does in fact refer to me.
He dies, or I die. That's the simple version. No one else can kill either one of us, not really. At
least, that's how I read it. Maybe I can die, I don't know, but I've been awfully lucky over the
years. Not really the point, though. My point is, I am going to fight him, and I have a lot of
resources and power at my disposal. You've seen the D.A. You know about my friends, how
strong they are. You know how I... apparently have this way with people these days. Look at
Pansy, if you need an example. That's the sort of protection you'd lose."

Tracey sent Daphne a concerned look, but she still stared at him impassively, without a word.

Taking that as letting him say his piece, Harry continued, "Again, not threatening, just saying
what I feel like you're worrying about. Protection, and a decent guy to be the father of your
children, to help you carry on your line. But you also worry about Astoria, and with good
reason. But now you know where to go for help. You could find a way. The treatment is
working, too, isn't it?"

This time, Daphne did answer in the form of a single, curt nod.
"Well, since it's working, you could use your family's own money to fund her treatment. I
know the gold to muggle currency rate would leave you even wealthier in the muggle world.
It might be distasteful for you, but I know full well you'd do it for your sister without
hesitation. So that isn't something I could possibly hold over your head, either. You'd figure it
out too fast if I tried. Which leaves us just one thing for you to really lose, aside from the
protection."

"What's that?" Tracey asked quietly, watching him just as raptly but without the same neutral
expression. In fact, for all her normal taciturn nature, the tiny girl seemed almost excited by
his near-monologue.

Harry looked at them both for a moment, then said simply, "You'd lose out on good sex with
a guy you know can please you. Well... and any future fun if you decide to take on those
Runes we talked about earlier."

Daphne didn't react even still, except the faintest of narrowing around her eyes.

Harry shrugged then, putting his other arm up on the back of the bench too, now that he was
sure he wasn't about to be attacked, and spoke more easily for the same reason, "Neither of us
have much to gain by hurting the other, but we both have things that we don't want to lose. It
wouldn't be worth it."

The girls shared a look, one that he could tell spoke volumes between each other. It made
sense of course, they had been friends for their entire lives, and at least for a year, lovers. It
was likely they each knew the other better than themselves. It was a bit disconcerting though,
when he remembered that both were highly intelligent and cunning. There were also two of
them, and just one of him. Not that he feared an attack, but that he might be manipulated into
giving something up without intending to, something that would give either or both of them
leverage over him. That, he knew, was a distinct possibility, despite both having expressed
interest in their current relationships continuing indefinitely.

Finally, the blonde sighed, then looked back toward him. Her voice was quiet, level,
measured, but Harry still thought he detected the faintest hint of regret when she spoke. "I
will... try to refrain from warning you about it without reason in the future."

Harry decided that was likely the best he was ever going to get, and nodded, "Alright, thank
you. So what can I do for you two ladies?"

This time, Daphne answered quickly, as if she'd been waiting for the previous subject to pass
before getting to what she actually wanted to discuss, her voice much more animated if still a
bit guarded, "Astoria wishes to join in your... revelries. Do not let her."

Harry almost snorted in sheer surprise, "Wh- what? Why? She's just a kid."

"She believes, wrongly, that she is mature enough to make that decision for herself.
According to her, she is just as mature as I am, and that if I am able to enter into a Concubine
Contract, and am already... active, sexually, then she should be, as well."

Harry frowned, "That... seems a little misguided. Okay. I mean, I can't control her, but-"
"You misunderstand," Daphne interrupted, "I know that if she is determined to be...
deflowered, I cannot stop her. She has her own friends and there are others she could go to if
that were the case. She does not only want that. She wants you to... be the one. As you were
for me. Decline."

"O- Oh," Harry murmured. That was a bit more of a shock, though now that she mentioned it,
Daphne's sister had been rather... flirty, to him in particular, ever since she'd seen him
shirtless at Sirius' early last summer, and possibly spied on he and Lilith being intimate.

The blonde witch explained, "She has it in her head that you are 'the best lover ever', and that
you always make your partner very satisfied."

"Well, I try," Harry said with an unexpectedly bashful tone.

"You generally succeed," Daphne admitted, "but that is beside the point. Regardless of what
Astoria wishes, I do not wish to... share the future father of my children with my own sister.
She is infatuated, nothing more."

While a part of Harry agreed that she was likely right, something about that statement rubbed
him the wrong way. Maybe Daphne wasn't telling him everything, or maybe she was outright
lying about her rationale (which, he had to admit, was reasonable, all encouragement of the
Weasleys and him enjoying Lilith masquerading as his mother aside). It could've been the
infatuation, too. A lot of adults he knew would have said he was only 'infatuated' with all the
girls he slept with. He had to admit they might be right, too, given the statistical likelihood of
muggles actually knowing anything about real love at his age.

Then again, a great many witches and wizards did seem to find their 'true-love' partners in or
just after Hogwarts years. Maybe it was different, for magicals?

Hermione might now. Harry did not.

What he did know was how some of them made him feel, and it wasn't just the feeling of
home when he slid inside them, either.

Without knowing precisely why, Harry found himself grinning as he looked at the two girls
across the compartment. Then it hit him, as if the train itself had smashed into him at full
speed.

The verbal sparring and games, the intellectual one-upmanship, the need to prove that one
side's argument was better.... all parts of a much larger, more complex whole. What had made
him smile, Harry now knew, was that he enjoyed it. Because it was a contest he felt oddly
skilled at, considering how naturally introverted he was, and because he liked talking to
Daphne and, to a lesser extent, Pansy for just that reason. He also enjoyed hearing their
voices, when they weren't belittling his friends.

Even Tracey. He just liked hearing her talk. As little as she said, it was a tiny treat every time
she did. Fuck. I'm smitten with both of them, too. I mean, I suppose it's not bad, but... they are
kind of... not straight. Hell.
"What are you smiling at?" Tracey asked suddenly.

Harry almost jumped, and felt his face suddenly burning. "Er, N- nothing, nothing, sorry. Just
got a bit lost in thought."

"You were dreaming about shagging my sister," Daphne accused.

Again, a reasonable assumption, but Harry could at least say, "Honestly, I wasn't. I promise.
Something else pleasant, though. Sorry, I did get kind of lost in thought. I just realized
something, and had to figure out what it meant. My apologies if I've ignored either of you."

Daphne huffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest, catching Harry's eye again as it did
wonderful things for the cleavage he could see through her robes, "It's nothing. Just... deny
Astoria when she comes to you. Please. Do not let her get Runes, either. I don't care if she
sleeps with the Succubus, I suppose."

A flash of seeing the end of a chess game months ago made Harry ask another question,
"What about Ron? Or Neville, for that matter? I'd worry more about Ron, though. They
were... a bit flirty, a few months back, the first time you brought her to the quarters."

Daphne frowned, "They were?"

Apparently new information to her, then. He nodded, not seeing a reason to hide it, "I don't
know if it was anything serious, but after I wore you two out, I came out to use the loo there
so I didn't wake you. They were playing chess, harmless, I know. But they were also stealing
glances at each other, and kind of... well, talking like they were just flirting a bit more openly
a moment before. I just got the impression they were both trying to hide something from me,
or maybe you if you'd come out first."

"I... see. I suppose there are worse... it could have been his older brothers."

"What, Fred and George?"

She nodded, frowning still.

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about that," Harry told her, "as they aren't even in
school anymore. They'd have graduated by now anyway. I don't really think there's anything
serious between her and Ron anyway, just thought it was interesting at the time. How would
you feel about it if they did, though?"

"Again, there are worse," Daphne said, "but... my feelings on the matter are... complicated."

"I've got time," Harry told her gently, "but if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. It's not
my business."

"No, it isn't," she agreed, "but... perhaps your perspective will help. If you are sure...?"

"Sure, go ahead."
She nodded, glanced at Tracey, then relaxed her own posture a little, back to the hands-in-lap
she normally used in company, and straightened up a little from the defensive posture she'd
had before. "I obviously do not want my sister jumping into... stupid decisions, and make
choices that could ruin her life. You are not a fool, so think about all the connotations I could
mean by that. I mean them all. On the other side, I love my sister, and want her to experience
whatever joy she can in this life before she passes. Because of the Blood Malediction, that
has always been something I feared would happen sooner, rather than later.

"Yet, if the treatment works as you and those muggle Healers think it should, she may end up
living a full lifetime. Were she going to die in four to eight years, I would encourage her to
live life to the fullest, as I have for most of her life. But now? I find myself wanting her to
take her time, to experience depth in life, rather than a shallower, broader, perhaps more...
hedonistic lifestyle."

That didn't seem all that complicated to Harry once she'd explained it, but there was little
doubt in his mind she had simplified it a great deal for his benefit. He had no siblings to
compare it to, but by trying to imagine what he would feel like if he knew Hermione or Ron
were going to die in a few years, he thought he had an inkling, at least. "I see. Well,
unfortunately, I don't know what to tell you about it. I'd be torn too, I think. What about you,
Tracey?"

The petite girl blinked in surprise at being called on, then looked at Daphne, "I... I do not
know if I trust that the muggle doctors will be able to help. I have done some research. The
treatment is not always successful."

"That's true," Harry agreed.

"Because of that, I would still encourage experiencing all that life has to offer, before it is too
late."

The statement made Tracey's girlfriend scowl, but she didn't say anything to refute it. Clearly,
they'd talked about it before.

"Hm. Alright, I can see your point there, for sure. The problem is, both arguments are valid,
but it's hard to choose one because we don't know what the results of the treatment will be.
And Divination is shite."

Daphne snorted in a most unladylike fashion, and he caught the edges of her mouth twitch
upward for a moment before she schooled her expression, and faked a cough to mask the
earlier faux pas.

Watching her blush afterward made Harry's day, not that it'd been bad so far. "Without more
information, I'll go with what you asked, Daphne. On one condition."

"What's that," she asked, voice hard but expression still at least a little relaxed, even while
still blushing.

"I won't 'initiate' Astoria, as you asked, without your permission. Or," he held up a hand
when she started to thank him and, no doubt, to tell him that would never come, "She proves
that she is mature enough to decide for herself."

"Who would judge that?" Daphne asked after several minutes of quiet thought.

"Tracey?"

The mousey girl immediately shook her head, "I am too close. You are both potentially
biased. It will need to be another."

"If you weren't so... sex-crazed, I would almost trust your opinion on the matter," Daphne
told him, "At least, if it wasn't my little sister."

"I'm not sex-crazed," Harry protested, "I get plenty enough to keep that from happening. And
it's not all I do, remember? Hermione might work, she's got good judgment, and I can't
convince her to do anything she doesn't want to, even if I wanted to in this case."

"I feel though Pansy would be a better choice," Daphne retorted, "She knows Astoria better."

Harry's head cocked to the side, "That's fair. I agree, then. We shouldn't tell Pansy that's what
she's doing, though. Once it gets to a point where either or both of us are starting to wonder,
then we can ask Pansy what she thinks. So it won't bias her own opinion."

"That will work."

"Alright, then."

Bargain struck, though Harry had to wonder why it'd been necessary in the first place (for as
randy as he was, he was not desperate enough to shag the fourteen-year-old without at least
discussing it with her sister first), he looked between the girls again, "Anything else? I've still
got that thing I mentioned as 'further proof', but we can do that last. I don't want it coloring
anything you want to talk about."

"Is it that large a concern?"

He nodded at Daphne, but his answer was a bit less sure, "Possibly. Probably, even. I don't
know, you might already know about it. Thinking about it now, it would have influenced the
topic we just finished. On my end, and I'm sure on yours as well."

"I... see. You met with Susan Bones earlier. What did you discuss?"

"Not your business."

He had expected Daphne to frown, scowl, or at least narrow her eyes at his too-fast, curt
reply. Instead, she relaxed just a sliver more, and her mouth quirked upward again ever so
slightly, "Good. You are correct. But I'm going to state what I think the case is. You can
confirm, deny, or say nothing.

"She wanted to tell you that she wants to enter a Concubine Contract with you, and soon."
Harry tried hard not to react, but it was obvious there was something in his face or body
language that gave it away, for Daphne grinned as if she'd scored a point in their subtle game.
Again, she schooled her expression quickly, but she spoke again before he could, "You don't
need to confirm or deny it now, Potter, your eyes told me everything. You said yes, I
suppose."

"You're- you're half right," he told her instead, "We actually discussed a contract last year.
But like you, she didn't want to enter one too early. She mentioned this term perhaps. Now...
she wants to move up the timetable."

"I thought she would," Daphne murmured, looking oddly morose about it, "Do not think I
would stop you. The Greengrasses and Bones family have been enemies of a sort since the
Wizengamot's founding, but I personally have no issue with Susan Bones, and had no issue
with her Aunt. In fact, I respected her aunt a great deal. Madame Bones was a personal hero
to a great many witches of our ages."

"Ah. I didn't know that, either thing, really. I guess I should've thought about how it might
impact you if I did enter one with her. I'm sorry, it didn't actually cross my mind."

Daphne surprised him again with a shrug, "There is no law that sates you can only have one
Contract of that nature. It is a bit unusual that we are entering into them for our family lines,
usually it is the other way around, but the law does not differentiate. Each Contract is distinct.
You can enter as many as you wish, as I could, or she, and so on. It just isn't as effective for
witches, given gestation periods."

Harry nodded, "Still, I can see why it might bother you. Competition, if nothing else."

Daphne's gorgeous face twisted into an amused smile, lopsided smile as one of her eyebrows
rose very high, "You have enough stamina to spare, from what I have seen. I don't see a need
for competition. You are not my primary lover, after all. You and Tracey fulfill entirely
different needs for me, even if intimacy is... pleasurable with you both."

"Good point," Harry said, grinning at Tracey for a moment, "I enjoy being with both of you a
great deal myself. But what about you, Tracey? I don't mean if you enjoy being with me, I
know you do, it's more-"

"I am bisexual."

He shut up.

Daphne gaped.

Tracey looked at her lover, then Harry, and back at her girlfriend, whose hand she sought out
with both of her smaller ones, "I did not know before, Daphne," she said quietly, "I had only
been with you. I enjoy being with Harry... as much. I love you. I like him. But you both make
me... feel very good, and I enjoy making you both feel good. My other male partners, have
not been as pleasant. They lacked Harry's skill or care. But I cannot... imagine, any longer,
one who cared for my pleasure not being able to please me. I have... dreams, now, too. Of
men. And other women. But you are the one that I love."
Daphne swallowed, and Harry knew she could not have hidden the tears that welled in her
eyes, never quite falling. "I... I see."

"Hey," he said quietly, when it was clear that was all the blonde was going to say, "Hear
everything she's saying. She loves you. Sex and love are not the same. You already know that.
You are the one she's devoted to."

"I know," Daphne murmured, glancing at him with a sad, yet happy too, expression. "I know
what she said, Potter. I... I suppose it's been my own fault for assuming, but... I have to admit,
if I'd known... that you would enjoy it, enjoy him, that much I might not have encouraged..."

"I am glad you did," Tracey told her, "because now I can feel more pleasure, and more
happiness. It is pleasure and happiness we can share. It is not only for me."

Eventually Daphne nodded.

Encouraged, Tracey sent Harry a mischievous glance that wouldn't have been amiss on Lilith
or Ginny, and reminded her, "Besides, you have not been complaining about that muggle
strap-on dildo I got you for Yule."

This time, Daphne actually reached over and slapped Tracey's arm as her face turned bright
red, a moment before she buried her face in her hands and groaned.

"Tracey One, Daphne Zero," Harry chuckled, "You should bring that next time we have fun.
I've got a trick I'd like to show you, if you do. And hey, no shame, remember? It's not like I
have room to judge, Daphne. If you enjoy it, go for it."

"She bought it for me to wear," Daphne groaned.

"But you still enjoy it when I do," Tracey continued teasing.

"Shut up... just shut up..."

Harry grinned widely, leaning back again. "So now that that's settled, let's get to my big one.
Unless you have something else?"

Both girls shook their heads, and Daphne uncovered her face just enough to wave him on
with a hand before hiding it again.

"Your dad sent me a letter that just got to me late last night, Daphne. I think you should know
what it says."

He reached into his robe pocket, where he'd kept the letters sans the bank statements, and
leafed through them until he found the parchments written by the girl's father, then handed
them to her.

She read reluctantly, but as she did, the embarrassment she must have been feeling faded
away into a shock at least as strong as the one Harry had been feeling just this morning when
he'd read it for the first time.
Had it really only been... what, seven hours ago?

"A- Adopt... Astoria? But... but why?"

Harry only had one answer, but it was one he did not want to speak aloud. Were the
circumstances slightly different, Harry would absolutely have refused to do so. But he knew
his enemy, knew Voldemort well. That knowledge had only grown with the memories
Dumbledore had shared early the previous term. What Cyrus Greengrass feared was not only
possible, it seemed highly likely. Not only that Draco had entered his service fully, or that he
wanted Astoria for himself, but that Voldemort would ensure in some way (likely to control
Draco) that the young girl would be relegated to the status of a plaything for the amusement
of his Death Eaters and himself.

Too, he would definitely seek to have Carinna and Cyrus killed if they stood in his way. That
included hiding away their children. The likelihood that either he or Daphne would need to
become Astoria's guardian was far higher than he wanted to think about, and it would become
a certainty if they didn't do something about it now.

"I've written a letter," he replied, brushing aside her question for the moment, and gesturing at
the one at the bottom of the sheaf. He'd spent an hour working on it before they left Sirius'
place. He only hoped it was enough. "I haven't sent it yet, just in case it was intercepted. I
told him I would if it came down to it, and that I would hide them too, if I was given the
opportunity. But I also suggested that they lock up your home in some way, and flee the
country. I don't want them caught up in this, and I don't want them attacked."

"But... but why," Daphne whispered again, her voice little more than a whisper, "Why would
they have to... to flee?"

"Because Voldemort is sex-crazed," Harry said seriously, and tapped his scar, "Something
about me Contracting with Lilith made her abilities to influence people seep through my scar
and into him. I know how to handle it. I've got plenty of relief. My guess is that he's getting
relief, which is what your dad doesn't want Astoria to be used for, but that he can't handle it
anyway."

Tracey, who hadn't yet read the letter, stared at Harry as if he'd grown a second or possibly
third head. Daphne let out a quiet, soft little whine as the parchment fell from what had to be
numb, shaking fingers onto her lap, and began curling itself back up into the roll it had been
in when Harry first opened it that morning.

"Voldemort wants her, and probably you, for his own fun, and to reward and control Malfoy.
When he finds out you're out of reach, he'll come for your parents instead. Either to get
revenge on you for defying him, or to try and lure you out of hiding. Probably both. It's the
way he thinks."

"Damn," Daphne whimpered, more tears streaking down her lovely cheeks, pattering on her
skirt and the parchment both. "Damn, damn, damn it... what am I going to do?"

"Nothing for now," Harry told her quietly, but firmly. "At most, encourage your parents to get
as far out of his reach as they can for the time being. While Astoria is with the rest of us,
she's relatively safe. As safe as we can make her. Now that Malfoy and Nott aren't in the
castle, the kidnappings should stop. Voldemort doesn't dare attack the castle directly, not
while Dumbledore is there. The weakest link in the chain right now is your parents, home
alone, undefended. That has to change. Either they need to leave, or they need to get as much
protection as they possibly can."

"Milly?"

He shook his head, "No, I don't think that'll work. I trust Millicent, that's not the problem. But
anything about home protections she knows, her family mastered years ago. They have to
know ways through that sort of thing. If the rest of her family is firmly in Voldemort's
pocket... they need to leave. I don't know where."

"Alright," Daphne nodded, seeming to take his advice and comments with more trust and
seriousness than he would have expected.

Maybe she's just looking for any direction to go in, but I have to think I'm right. At least
about Voldemort. Maybe fleeing isn't the best option, but I don't know what else to do.
Daphne and Astoria will be safer if they leave, because it'll be harder to coax them into doing
something stupid, at least.

"I'll... I'll send them a letter this evening," Daphne continued, picking up her father's and
handing it back to Harry, who put it away while the blonde continued to collect her thoughts.
Over a minute or so, he saw her posture shift from terror to forced calm, and then hard
resolve. "If he wants to take me or my sister as a... a p- pleasure slave, V-Voldemort's got
another thing coming."

Harry could not believe she'd actually said his name. Tracey couldn't either, judging by her
gasp of surprise at hearing it. But it made him smile. "Good. We're behind you. Remember,
it's not just you or even you and Tracey. Pansy, Milly, Cassius, me, and all of my friends,
we'll stand with you. You aren't alone in this."

"Thank you," Daphne said quietly, sincerely, "I believe we should get going, however. We've
already taken enough of your time. Thank you, Pot- Harry."

He stood as she did, offering her a hand to shake, which Daphne did firmly, rather than the
dainty way she had done the one time they'd shaken hands previously. "Alright. Remember to
go to the quarters immediately after the Feast. Don't even try the Slytherin Common Room
this term, not until we know it's safe. That won't be until after Voldemort's in the ground,
probably. Maybe not even then."

"I am aware, thank you," Daphne replied, her cool, aloof persona falling over her like a well-
fitted robe. "Until we meet again, P- Harry."

"Hopefully soon. Be well, Daphne, Tracey."

"Thank you," Tracey replied, gracing him with a faint smile, before following her lover out
into the train corridor again.
Harry gave them a few moments to disappear, then poked his head out and asked Warrington,
"That was everyone, right?"

"I reckon so," the bulky older man said with a nod, "You heading back to your friends?"

Harry considered it, then nodded, "Yeah, but I don't know if I'm just staying there. The
compartment will probably be crowded. Listen, Cassius. Thanks for keeping an eye out. You
didn't have to."

"No," the older wizard chuckled, "but it was the decent thing. There've been a few folk
wanting to bother you, but I scared 'em off. Well, scared two. Two others I just said would
have to wait, that you were busy at the moment. One Gryff, one 'Claw I think. That loony
one."

"Luna? Luna Lovegood?"

"Er... yeah, I think so."

"Okay. Well, don't call her loony, please. She's not. Just a bit... odd."

"If you say so, Potter," Cassius said with a chuckle, then gave him an offhand wave as he
started walking, turning to fit past Harry in the corridor as he moved toward the
compartments where most of the Slytherins he was friendly with had gathered, "See you
'round. Thanks again for letting the girls crash in your rooms."

"It's nothing," Harry told him, "remember you and Milly are welcome too, if it comes to it."

"Nah. Most of Slytherin's too cowardly to go against us," the boy retorted with a wink,
flexing his right arm as he slid the nearer door open, and disappeared behind it.

"Right," Harry murmured, shaking his head with a grin as he turned toward the back of the
train and started walking.

When Harry found his friends fifteen minutes later, he had already passed two dozen
compartments filled with students who had wasted no time in 'catching up' with those they
hadn't been shagging in almost a month. Even without being inside Lilith's territory since
they were moving across most of the country from south to north, it seemed her influence
lingered. Then again, perhaps they were just horny teenagers who had gotten used to feeling
each other up or outright shagging, and did not want to wait until they had returned to the
castle.

It was no surprise of course that when he reached the compartment he was looking for, half of
its current occupants were at least half naked, the rest more-so if not completely. Ginny was
leaned against the back the seat to his right, her arsehole gaping wide with Neville panting
across from her. Hermione was next to the girl, on her back, cum running down her chest and
from her pussy both, no doubt from Ron, who was next to Neville. Hannah was not present,
but Lyra stood, just as nude as the rest, leaning against the window. One hand was raised into
the air facing Harry, her fingers slowly waving through the air as the fluids left by the four
other occupants rose into the air and gathered before her into a slowly-spinning sphere that
hovered in the air. Despite their collective Runes, the four humans looked utterly spent, while
Lyra, her own orifices adding to the mix in corkscrewing streamers as well, looked like she
was just getting warmed up. "Nice to know you guys are getting plenty of action, at least. I've
just been chatting for the last couple hours."

"Don't lie, Master," Lyra chided, glancing down along with him to see the bleary, half-aware
looks his friends were giving him as his clothing began to come off, too. "I know you had a
couple of orgasms. I still cum when you do."

"Well, yes, two," he acknowledged, his hungry eyes roaming over the three beautiful girls in
the room. No matter how often he saw them, it was never enough. Harry doubted he could
ever get bored with these three, no matter how many other girls he was shagging. "And they
were great, too, but Hannah and Pansy were the only ones. I want more."

"Let them rest," Lyra giggled as his hand fell on Ginny's pale, lightly-freckled arse, one
finger sliding toward her still-open and twitching bum-hole, "The boys were very randy."

"Looks like the girls were, too."

"Indeed," Lyra grinned, then raised her other hand, and pulled them apart in the air. The foot-
wide sphere of semen and squirt, thoroughly mixed together, split in two. One she left
hovering, the other she split again in the same fashion, sending the half back into the other
sphere, so that roughly a quarter of it was floating besides a much larger ball. "For you,
Master," she gestured toward the smaller one, "a bit of a treat."

He grimaced briefly. As a bloke, the thought of consuming any amount of a guy's leavings
was still a bit disgusting, but he was hungry... and there was girl in there, too.

Lyra's eyes watched him calmly, though they twinkled with amusement, as one hand dropped
and the other turned to beckon the larger sphere toward her mouth. Once there, she leaned
forward and took a bite out of it, almost like it was a pearly, semi-translucent melon. In fact,
as it continued to rotate, he could see the smooth lines of her teeth, two of them elongated,
had left marks. She chewed it slowly, her dark eyes never leaving his, then swallowed.
"Refreshing, and so tasty."

Harry's cock had already risen to full before he'd undressed, but it twitched again at the way
she'd said such simple words. Still... he wasn't going to just give in. Over the next few
seconds, he shrank and his body changed once more into a feminine form, though it kept his
penis exactly as it was. Iris had no compunction whatsoever about eating her present, and
with a hand outstretched, reached out with her magic, too.

Like it did with the Succubus, the smaller sphere obeyed her will, floating forward. To her, it
was about the size of an apple, and so much more convenient to take a bite of. It was still
warm, salty, a bit bitter, but also sweet, tasting of honey, bubblegum, and cinnamon in
counterpoint to the boy's more masculine flavors. "Shit," she whispered, suddenly feeling
ravenous as the sustenance provided by her friends hit her system before it had even gotten
down her pipe. Iris bit again, and again, chewing rapidly like Lyra now was. The Succubus
eventually just morphed the shape of her own mass, letting it slide down her throat in a
continuous stream so that she was finished at almost the exact moment Iris swallowed the last
bite of her own, feeling not only physically full but magically charged...

And more aroused than she had been in weeks.

"Leftover emotions," Lyra explained as the once-man rested a hand over her lower abdomen,
which was on fire with lust. "It fades... but if you hold onto it through the feast, I'm sure
you'll be rewarded later. Or we can just shag now."

"It's funny," Iris said softly, her voice shaking just a little, higher than Harry's but just as
certain of what she said as he would've been, "how I know I can shag all I want right now and
still be just as randy later."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Definitely," the smaller girl said, "On your knees, slave. Worship my girl-dick."

"Ooh... I like where this is going," Lyra chuckled, licking her lips as she obeyed. "I'm liking
this a lot."

"Not as much as I'm going to."

"Mm... maybe as much."

Iris sighed in pleasure as the alien creature Harry so much enjoyed took the place of Lyra's
mouth and worked its tentacle-fingered magic on her length, going deeper into the Succubus'
throat, tighter and tighter, until her entire foot-long cock was buried at around the level of a
normal human's heart. "Oh, goddess, yes," she whispered, still standing between her friends
and their shagged-out bodies, the Succubus on her knees eager for more, just as she was.
"Don't stop, you cock-hungry little cunt... take all of it!"

Lyra happily obliged, but went a step beyond too, changing her left hand into a reasonable
facsimile of Dean's massive penis. It was smaller than Harry's now, but still about the largest
in the school without magic, as the Succubus knew full well. That went up beneath her chin,
and she ran the tip of it along Iris' small, petite folds, before turning and twisting until they
opened their petals, dripping wet, and allowed her to push her hand-cock inside.

Iris moaned, already climaxing as the huge, dark-skinned erection split her open, while her
penis was being massaged and coated with pleasure-enhancing lubricant from every side.
Both sets of her genitals came at the same time, coating Lyra's hand and her stomach with
fluid, which was quickly absorbed by her body.

The Succubus started moving her arm up and down, grinding first slowly in and out of Iris'
cum-slicked pussy, gradually increasing speed and force as her throat continued its work,
quickly building up another climax in the shapeshifting witch. Before long, her strength was
bouncing her Master up onto her toes, and then completely into the air as she hammered up
and in, lifting the girl's whole body with the thrusts of her transposed and borrowed dick,
even as the ripples in her throat tightened and sped up too.
Iris came again, and again, and a fourth time, each of them, like the first, from both cunt and
cock at the same time, until even Lyra was sated, and she slowly withdrew her hand, now its
own shape and size, from Iris' body, and then slurped with her own mouth, cleaning up the
back-washed semen as she gingerly scooted back until Iris' member was only in her mouth
with the tip. That last bit she laved a few more times, then sucked out the rest from her pipes,
before separating with a soft pop. "How was that, Master? Did your slave meet your
requirements?"

Iris could only giggle almost hysterically, "Slave- Slave met Master's requirements well. Shite
that was amazing."

"Slave aims to please, Mistress," Lyra cooed, then stood up and pressed her lips to the shorter
girl's, before stepping back and assuming her more clothed form. "We're almost to the castle,
Mistress. You should probably let Harry come back and get dressed again."

"Pity," she murmured back, but did change form once more.

(O)(O)(O)

During the feast to welcome back the students for the second term that night, Lyra was the
only 'student' not in attendance, but the tables still seemed bare thanks to the huge number of
students who had either been killed at King's Cross, or withdrawn from the school. Many,
Harry knew, had fled the country in the last three weeks. Of those that remained, nearly a
third were Slytherins, a much higher ratio than the quarter or so that normally made up the
House of Serpents. Only a few of those, Nott most prominent among them, were not present.

Daphne, Tracey, Pansy, Millicent, Cassius, and now the Carrow twins sat in a tight knot,
nearly shoulder to shoulder, on the end of the table closest to the staff table, with several feet
of distance on both sides between them and any other Slytherin.

The sight of it made Harry's skin crawl. Not because he knew that a great many of the snakes
would side against him. He couldn't blame most of them, it was how they were raised. Not to
mention that if they did openly side with him against Voldemort, as that small cluster had
done, it would alienate them from their families, friends, everything they knew. No, as much
as he wanted to, Harry couldn't blame them at all. It was the reasonable thing to do, even if it
was still insane by his standards for anyone to support Voldemort, or his stated mission.

The Succubus was not actually absent, of course. She was merely invisible to anyone but
himself and, apparently, Hermione, as she worked her way up one side of the Gryffindor
table and down the other. Several students had jumped, not a few looking downward
suspiciously as her hands moved into robes and trousers, but by the time the feast was
finished, every Gryffindor who'd had the slightest bit of sexual experience before then had
received either fellatio or cunnilingus. Some of them, he was amused to note, while having
their current girl- or boy-friend right next to them. No one had reason to complain, however,
since in each of those cases, the other partner got the same treatment.
Then he saw Hannah jump from the table next to theirs. She twisted in her seat, finding him
and his friends quickly. Then she scanned the crowd even as her legs opened invitingly, then
moved back to Harry before she sent him a wink. Harry snorted, leaned over to Neville, who
sat on his right, and whispered, "Looks like Hannah's got Lyra between her legs."

Far from the deep blush he might've issued a few months before, Neville instead looked over
at his girlfriend quickly, a lecherous, though mostly controlled, grin breaking out on his no
longer round face. "Hot."

"Yep."

Watching the Succubus was distracting him from the conversation, so Harry resolved to only
pay it enough attention to note that she'd skipped Susan in her treatment, but quickly moved
on to other Hufflepuffs he'd have never considered. She was hardly as active, but a great
many of them, after the initial startlement, shifted to allow her access anyway. It seemed that,
by this point, most of the student body was perfectly willing to get oral pleasure from an
invisible stranger, regardless of the person's gender.

Harry grinned. No doubt, this was exactly as Lilith had intended before she'd even been
Summoned. He wasn't complaining, though, for it suited his own needs well. The more
people in the castle down for casual sex, the happier his dick would be. A cough got his
attention, and Harry turned to find the stern face of Professor McGonagall looking down at
him. "Potter. The Headmaster would like a word with you and your... companion, before you
retire for the evening. He has asked me to assure you that he will be up quite late, but does
wish to sleep before one in the morning. The password is... his favorite sweet. I'm told you
know it."

Harry grinned, "Sure do. Thanks, Professor. Er... could I get a word with you, in the next few
days?"

McGonagall, who had already turned away, looked back, her expression as haughty and cold
as he'd ever seen it. "Concerning?"

"Something personal. I... well, if you'd prefer, I can come alone. Office hours would be fine."

"That will be acceptable. As you are aware, I am in my office immediately following classes
for two hours."

"Thanks, Professor. I'll try and do it tomorrow, but if not the next day."

"Very well. Good evening, Potter."

As she strode away, Harry looked up to Dumbledore, who, far from his normally jovial
demeanor, was conversing in hushed tones with both Flitwick and Hagrid, looking grave. The
brilliant blue eyes met his after a moment, and he sent a quick smile in response to Harry's
nod, then turned his attention back to the other teachers.

Harry presumed it would be enough of a notice. If not, maybe he would surprise the old
wizard by showing up. ...Something had to surprise him, right?
He knocked on the door an hour and a half later, after settling the Slytherins into the suite
he'd been assigned to hide his Succubus-related activities, using the same arrangement as
they'd taken up the previous year, then left with Lyra following him invisibly.

"Enter," Dumbledore's voice rang out clearly. Once Harry and Lyra had done so, the old
wizard cast his eyes about, then reached up and adjusted his glasses on his long nose, and did
so again. "Miss Sendai is not attending?"

"No, she's here," Harry said with a faint grin, gesturing at the empty space next to him. Lyra
shimmered into view with a pleased grin.

"Good to know even your magic specs can't see me when I'm fully invisible," she chirped,
then hopped down into one of the two soft chairs that normally filled that half of the large
office. "What's up?"

Dumbledore waited until Harry sat as well, his fingers steepled, and even looking amused for
a moment. That slight happiness was gone the moment he began speaking. "I am afraid I
have bad news. Mr. Nott has not been found. In fact, things are, if anything, worse. No other
students have gone missing, but there have been three murders in Hogsmeade Village over
the last three weeks. The first was the night of Yule."

Harry groaned, "On Christmas? What the hell? Who would do that?"

"Voldemort would," Dumbledore said simply, "though I suspect this was not him personally.
It is... not his style. The first murder was actually two, a young couple out for an evening
stroll. The witness who found them claimed that they had been visiting a family member of
the young woman, and were on their way to the young man's family home. Both were rather
brutally ripped apart by something with a great deal of strength. Contusions littered their
bodies, and the lethal injuries were... likely from being torn asunder. They bled out. I would
have suspected Inferi, given the brutality of the attack, but there were no human tracks, no
smeared blood, no body parts."

"Fuck," Harry muttered, his previous joy fading as quickly as Dumbledore's had. "That's...
who? Do we know anything?"

"Unfortunately, no," Dumbledore sighed, "There were precious few tracks. What was there
seemed unusual, clearly not human. Almost reptilian. Too small to be an adult dragon, and
there was no accessory metatarsus."

"The back claw," he clarified in response to Harry's confused look. "Like chickens, most
draconids have three to four 'toes' which extend to the front, as in many reptilian or saurian
creatures. Dragons also have a rear-facing claw, which most reptiles do not. That is, in fact, a
distinguishing characteristic of dragons as opposed to other large, magical lizards."

"Okay," Harry said with a frown, "But if it was like a dragon but not a dragon, what was it?"

"I do not know. It was large, heavy. The tracks in the snow, which was quite deep that
evening, penetrated several inches into frozen ground. It walked on two feet. I would estimate
the creature is perhaps fifteen feet at the shoulder, and probably weighs in excess of three
hundred and fifty stone."

Harry whistled, impressed even as he was horrified.

Lyra, confused, asked aloud, "Stone? How much is that?"

Harry shook his head, surprised she hadn't just pulled the information from his head, then
answered, "About five thousand pounds."

She suddenly looked impressed, too, "Wow. There's only... three land predators on my plane
that come anywhere close to that, and no sea creature weighs even half that. Or its equivalent,
anyway."

Dumbledore seemed intrigued by the statement, "Your sea creatures grow smaller than your
land-based ones?"

She nodded, "Yes. I know it's different here, but remember that our plane is finite, and much
smaller than your world. Our entire existence is smaller than the continent of Europe. Our
seas are two, Engithratt, and Ivrennthrom, the larger of the two. Both are land-locked. The
borders of our world are chaos. Mist. Nothing comes in, nothing goes out. Or at least, what
goes in doesn't come back out."

"Fascinating," Dumbledore murmured.

Harry found himself agreeing, but quickly pulled the subject back to the more pressing
matter. "Okay, so it's big, and has lizard-feet, and it's really strong. That doesn't narrow it
down much."

"Ah, yes. It is also bipedal, and either used some method of transport to just appear on the
streets of Hogsmeade without being seen or leaving tracks, or it can fly. Furthermore, the
attack, while brutal, was rapid enough that neither victim had the chance to scream or call for
help."

"Damn," Harry murmured, "This is just getting worse."

"Quite. Unfortunately, that is all we know at this point. Though the Magical Law
Enforcement squad and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures
are both investigating, at this point it seems unlikely they will turn up a culprit any time
soon."

"Alright," Harry sighed, running a hand over his stubbly jaw. "What about the other two? You
said there were three separate murders? Or is there just one more, and this one was two?"

"Three incidents, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "The second was... done by
exsanguination."

"They bled out, too?"

"Not exactly. Exsanguination is the technical term, in this case, for what happens when a
particular type of creature removes and then consumes the blood of its victim. I suspect it
was a creature you met an example of just a few weeks before."

"A vampire," Harry whispered, "Sanguini?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, it was not Mr. Worple's unfortunate guest at Horace's party.
It is well documented that he returned to his home in the Black Forest more than a week
before this attack, which occurred on January third. The victim was Mr. Brenton Handish, the
proprietor of Handy Helpers. You may be familiar."

Harry shook his head blankly.

"Ah. Well, I am not terribly surprised. Mr. Handish's shop was not exactly on the main
thoroughfare of Hogsmeade, but rather set back among a residential neighborhood. He and
his children, all of-age, ran a combination business. They did odd jobs for money, but also
did a fair trade in enchanting household objects to work on their own, and such. I'm told they
were actually fairly well-off financially, but I am afraid I remember little of any member of
the family from their own Hogwarts days. Hufflepuffs, I believe, most of them. But as
Vampires are a carefully regulated creature in our country, that investigation is being handled
by Aurors, and thus I have little information."

"Not from Tonks, or Mad-Eye?"

"I am afraid not. It seems our new Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, has learned that they are both
members of the Order of the Phoenix. He has made it clear that while he will not stop us from
doing our work, he expects to do the job himself, using the Ministry alone. As such, I'm
afraid our usual Auror contacts, aside from Kingsley Shacklebolt, are fairly mum at the
moment. And Kingsley is protecting the muggle Prime Minister these days."

Harry nodded, taking in the information but mostly setting it aside for the moment. He had
quite enough to think about with the murders, and keeping the Slytherins safe, and... well,
everything. "No other clues?"

"No. We are certain it was a vampire, but beyond that... nothing. None live in the area, at
least not that are known. None would have motive that can be discerned. At least, beyond a
desperate need to feed. Vampires generally do not kill their... meal, unless they are very
hungry indeed. It is easier to milk a cow than to slaughter it, and gives one more food in the
long run."

"So nothing. Except the name of the victim, and the probable species of the murderer."

"Precisely. The final... well, it is going to be hard to hear, Harry. I will not blame you if you
wish to skip it."

"No," he growled, his face darkening with what Harry knew was a slowly-mounting rage.
"Tell me, Sir. Please."
"We... had difficulty identifying the remains. They were... heavily mutilated, far more
brutally than that poor young couple. However, certain spells revealed the victim to be Miss
Victoria Frobisher. She was quite thoroughly dead."

Harry only realized he was growling, a low, deep rumble in his core, when Lyra's cool, calm
hand fell on his arm. "Patience, Master. Focus. I know. We'll find him. But this anger is
useless without direction. When we have one, we will unleash every bit of it."

Harry took a single long, slow breath, and much of the tension that had been raging through
him vanished. Not as if it was muted, as Harry now knew she could do to him, but fought
down harshly by his own will. When he looked up, Dumbledore was appraising him with
something between pride and sorrow. "Where was she?"

The headmaster sighed once more, and removed his glasses to rub at his own tear-filled eyes.
His voice cracked, "We found her smeared across the steps at the entrance to the school."

"A message? She was left as a message?"

"It would appear so."

"Nott."

Dumbledore nodded, placing the glasses back on his nose slowly, and Harry watched his own
ancient hands twist and clench a few times, the only sign of his own anger. "It would seem
so, yes. We have no proof, but that is the only reasonable assumption in this case. At the very
least, he is likely to have known what happened to her. Like the first pair, her body was...
broken. Thoroughly. I will spare you the details, only know that it was very difficult to
identify her, and would have been impossible based on features."

"Bastard," Harry growled once more, but this time it was almost as a means of venting. The
tight, roiling ball of utter fury in his chest was still there, glowing white-hot, but contained. "I
take it you didn't find him."

"No, I am afraid not. However, speaking these things aloud to you, I believe that whatever
killed Miss Frobisher may be the same creature that killed that poor couple in Hogsmeade.
The same strength would have been useful, at the very least."

Harry nodded. "And no one saw or heard anything?"

"No, during either incident. Miss Frobisher had been long dead already, given the state of
decay, when she was left. But the couple had only been missing for a couple of hours, and
even in the snow were not yet frozen when they were found."

"Alright," Harry sighed, "Thank you for telling me, Sir. Is there anything else?"

"Not tonight. I have a lead on that other Horcrux, but I must confirm its location before we go
after it. Perhaps next week."

"Let me know."
"I will, Harry. I have the feeling that I will need your help. You, and your companion here."

"Happy to," Lyra said solemnly, her former cheer gone as well. "This is madness."

"That it is. Take a dose of Dreamless Sleep potion if you need it, Harry," Dumbledore said,
gesturing at a bottle that had been sitting, unnoticed, on his desk.

"I'm alright, Sir," Harry begged off, gesturing to Lyra as he stood, "Lately, nightmares haven't
been a big bother."

"I see. Well, do try and have a good night. Please keep the details I have given you quiet, for
the time being. Among close friends only."

"Understood. Good night, Sir."

"Again, good night, Harry, Miss Sendai."

He did not remember going to bed in the boy's dormitory.

He barely remembered the next two days.

 Luna(cy)
Chapter Summary

Trigger Warnings in this chapter, I s'pose:

Tentacle stuff. Yes, there's an actual creature involved. It is consensual and knowing.

IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ here... you can find more of it on SubStar. Follow my
DISCORD link, then go to the "Links in General" channel at the bottom (I don't believe you
even need to have Discord, or be a member, to see that channel- and if you do, someone PM
me and I'll fix it). SubStar's posted up past Chapter 100. So... you know, it's a long way ahead
(they have started the summer after 6th).

More importantly, if you'd like to get even more, behind the scenes-type content, head over to
my DISCORD at https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw . THAT has a link to more than 100 total
posted chapters. Use the SUBSTAR one, the other is heavily censored for their own reasons.
Just sayin'. ;)

Chap. 70: Luna(cy)

Harry was in the middle of the same fugue, his mind endlessly turning over the facts of the
recent spate of murders and kidnappings that Hogwarts and Hogsmeade had experienced
during the last six months, including the one he had been unintentionally involved in. But try
as he might, there was no hidden clue to be found, no pattern, no apparent motive to any of
them except one. Draco Malfoy's kidnapping of Isabella Ross had plenty of clear motive. Her
family's low-level fame as being the one who had designed and then made fashionable
Vanishing Cabinets during Voldemort's last rise to power as a means of escape was simple
enough. She had been tapped, no doubt, more to help with the repairs than for any 'personal
use'.

That was the only thing that made sense, not that Harry was convinced anything Malfoy did
was intended to be sensible.

Classes resumed with Harry working on autopilot. Though the news of the murders in
Hogsmeade quickly made the rounds, and Hogwarts' rumor mill seemed rather spot-on in
connecting the deaths with the kidnappings, it was hard to confirm or deny anything, since
Harry knew so very little himself. All he had told even his closest friends was that one of the
murders had been Vicky, and that the D.A. could stop searching for her now. Even Lyra
seemed reluctant to press for more details, though she of course knew everything he did on
the matter.
He was stuck, the wheels in his mind spinning at high speed, relentlessly, but with no traction
whatsoever.

This was the case when, on January 17th, 1997, when he was sent reeling by a not-entirely-
soft slap across the face. "Ow!"

Harry's hand was already on his cheek as he turned to glare at the person who had slapped
him, his other hand reaching for his wand. A part of his mind was already wondering why his
friends hadn't leapt to his defense, or why Lyra hadn't stopped his attacker.

Instead, as he turned, he saw Hermione looking strangely pleased but embarrassed about it,
Ron smirking at him, and Lyra smiling widely. Even Ginny, normally quite quick to protect
those she cared about, was giving him a level look from a few feet away, as if daring him to
protest.

All of that was gleaned in the quarter of a turn it took to find out the identity of the irate
young woman who glared up at him with misty blue-gray eyes. "L- Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?" She asked the question with the same confused, dreamy tone she usually used.
It sounded entirely normal coming from her, though the waifish Ravenclaw rubbing her red
hand to relieve it of some discomfort was a bit more unusual.

"Er... why did you hit me?"

"Why? Because you are being obtuse, Harry Potter, and I don't appreciate it," she answered,
just as serenely as ever.

"Umm... what? How? What'm I being obtuse about?"

"Before I answer you, I should ask a question instead. Would you prefer to discuss this here,
or shall we go somewhere more private?"

Harry blinked at the rather casual question, then cast his eyes around the area. They were in
the Entrance Hall, surrounded by students just after dinner. Many of the other students were
staring at him, it wasn't every day Harry Potter got slapped by a girl.

He sighed. "Private, I suppose. Where?"

"You are the one who needs to talk, Harry. You pick the place."

After another sigh he muttered, "Fine... let's go up to the Room, then."

To his surprise, none of his friends followed, leaving Harry to lead the Ravenclaw girl up the
increasingly familiar path to the seventh floor, across from the crazed, Troll-Ballet obsessed
wizard's tapestry.

Inside the Room of Requirement, Harry had created a simple, small chamber with two cozy
armchairs of the same style Dumbledore preferred (and Harry had come to like them quite a
lot himself), a tea set on a table between them, with both facing a roaring fire. Star- and
Moon-light lit a wide swathe of the room behind the chairs through a latticework window
whose Ravenclaw colored-curtains were held open by a red sash. Homey, cozy, and quiet. A
single door, smaller than normal but of average height, stood against the right wall, opposite
the fire. "Have a seat, I guess," he muttered, gesturing for the girl to enter.

"Thank you, Harry," Luna said primly, then gave him a nod as she passed. The girl smoothed
out her shirt and sat on the further seat before he could come fully inside, and immediately
began pouring tea from the set present. "You prefer one sugar and no cream, is that right?"

"Er... yeah. Usually, how did you know?"

Luna only smiled serenely at him, "A witch has her secrets. Here."

The blonde waited until he'd taken a sip before pouring her own, which held three lumps of
sugar and one spoonful of milk, but only stirred it idly while munching on one of the simple,
gingersnap-colored biscuits sitting beside the kettle. "You can start any time."

He stared. Sipped. Stared some more. Sipped. Then asked, some five minutes after he'd sat
down, "I'm... not sure what you want me to say, Luna."

She smiled again, popped the last bit of her second biscuit into her mouth, chewed,
swallowed, and then took her first sip of tea and sat the cup back on its saucer before folding
her hands in her lap, in a very Daphne-like way. "You can start by promising to apologize to
your friends for keeping secrets from them again. I don't know if you still consider me a
friend, but I will accept your word that you will at least tell the others what is bothering you
so much these last few days."

Harry frowned. "Of- Of course you're my friend, Luna. I... I just... there's... things I don't
like... talking about. It was... bad."

"I know," she murmured softly, "The Quibbler is actually holding off on an article Daddy had
written two days ago. We're waiting for the family to make a statement before we ask them if
they'd like us to publish or not."

"Huh? You... you know some of it?"

She shrugged, "It's hard to say. We may be talking about different things. But I know that
your housemate we've been searching for is dead, and that others have died in Hogsmeade.
Possibly by a Blood-Sucking Horticulturalist."

Harry snorted, inhaling some of his tea, which made him cough several times as he tried to
keep from choking on it. "Ugh, some of that went up my sinuses," he chuckled, "A- what did
you say?"

Luna's large blue eyes widened, "You haven't heard of Horticulturalists? They're plant-
monsters, according to Daddy, that wear human skin. They grow other plants to camouflage
themselves, and sometimes raise Bees, too, for eating. They harvest them alive, I think. But
some of them evolve past that, and need the blood of larger creatures, like humans, to
survive."
Harry coughed again. "I... okay. You might be right about that," he forced himself to say, "but
last I checked, Horticulturalists are... basically Gardeners. It's like... Herbology, but the
Muggle side of it."

"Maybe that's what they want you to think," Luna shot back at once, her expression
inscrutable but her eyes somehow filled with knowing.

Harry found himself grinning. She's totally mad... but Circe, I missed talking to her. "Okay.
Let's agree to disagree, but I'll take it under advisement and be extra careful if I run into any
Horticulturalists in the future. Also, Dumbledore's pretty sure it was a Vampire. That one,
anyway."

Luna cocked her head to the side, seemingly mollified by his offer of agreement, then
nodded, "I suppose that would be an alternative, if less interesting, option. Daddy hadn't
considered that in his letter, and truth be told, I hadn't, either. Vampires are just so... boring."

Harry did not know if he agreed, but also didn't know how to respond, so he stayed quiet.

"The second matter you are being obtuse about is blaming yourself for things that are most
certainly not your fault. The Lady of Dreams, Hermione, Ginny, and myself are all in
agreement: You did everything you could do, and more besides, in getting help. Lots of help,
in fact. Expecting success every time, no matter how hard you work or try, is unreasonable.
You did not fail because you were weak, Harry Potter. You did not fail at all. You did
something no other person in the history of Hogwarts has done, according to Hermione. You
got all four Houses to work together, even if incompletely, toward a single goal besides
survival. Do you know how rare that is?

"Yet, of course, your mind turns to failure. You did not succeed in rescuing Isabelle Ross, or
Mandy Brocklehurst, or Vicky Frobisher... so you think yourself weak, a failure, and worthy
of guilt, recrimination, and blame."

"I don't-"

"You do," Luna spoke over him, for the first time he could ever remember, sounding more
serious than he could recall, too, "You do it all the time, Harry. Not as much lately, and we
have your Succubus to thank for that in large part, but you are doing it quite badly right now.
If I am your friend, believe me when I say this: It is not your fault. It is Voldemort's fault, or
possibly Theodore Nott's. He is rather an ass, from what I have heard."

Again, Harry snorted, then chuckled. He'd rarely interacted with the weedy-looking
Slytherin. He had not been part of Draco Malfoy's gang, in fact they seemed to be rather
more rivals, but nor was he friendly with Harry or his friends in any way. And yes, he was an
ass. "Okay, but-"

"There are no butts here, Harry, except the two we are sitting on. Unless Stubby Boardman is
under your Cloak, or the Lady of Dreams accompanied us in secret. Is she here?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, "but I-"

"Then no butts. There is no exception to my statement about you being guiltless, Harry. This.
Is. Not. Your. Fault. At all. In any way. You have been superhuman in trying to right a wrong
that you were not responsible for. Because of trickery, guile, and deceit, you were unable to
do so. Move past it. Think about something better."

"Like what?" Harry growled, his mind unable to process more beyond the bare minimum of
what the normally spacey girl was saying. "Quidditch, or Gobstones? I suppose the next
Hogsmeade Visit will be fun, with people gawping at the site of two or three different
murders!"

Luna let him get it out, then said quietly, "Well, you can think about how to prevent further
kidnappings. I feel as if Nott is still in the school, somewhere. At least close by. And if there
is a Horticulturalist or Vampire nearby, there is another threat to the school that must be dealt
with. So put that marvelous brain of yours to use in figuring out a way to prevent more
kidnappings, injuries, or deaths. Just as an example."

Harry blinked.

It was all he could do.

Fuck, she's right. Shit...

"I know I am," Luna smiled at him, seeming to read his mind, once again tranquil and serene,
"I often am, when people least expect it. Which seems to be remarkably often, now that I
think about it... perhaps I am a worthy Ravenclaw, after all."

Harry shook his head, grinning again, though a bit grimly, "Alright, so... I can do that. Any
other brilliant ideas?"

"Well, it has been some time since you've had sex with anyone except the Lady of Dreams,
and she has been approaching you, is that right?"

Harry found himself blushing, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like Luna hadn't told him
on the night they'd first been together, just before the holiday they had only recently returned
from, that she was fully willing to become part of the group. As well, judging by what she'd
told him about her previous lovers, plural, before and during their love-making, she was
hardly as innocent as she seemed. Yet he still turned red, felt his face heat at what was
otherwise a fairly simple question, one he would've had no problems discussing with Ginny
or Hermione, much less Lilith herself.

Really, any of the girls with Runes, or even Daphne or Tracey.

"Y- Yeah," Harry admitted after a few awkward moments. "I... I haven't been myself, since...
we heard about the news from Dumbledore. That was the night of the feast, when we got
back."

"The same night I learned, then."

Harry shrugged, "I s'pose. Listen, I... I know you're right, and I've been... neglecting the
others. Neglecting Lilith."

"You have been neglecting yourself, Harry, and that is the part that worries us all."

He swallowed. It was hard to face.

Luna, for all her odd-ball good cheer and the way she so easily distracted him from his
troubles was, as usual, spot on. She was a mirror, he decided, and perfectly happy to show
him his own faults... but not in a cruel way, not at all. She showed him so that he could
adjust. He did not like to think that, after all the progress he'd made on becoming a relatively
healthy, well-adjusted individual after years of trauma and abuse, that he could so easily sink
back into bad habits.

But he had, and it had taken Luna to show him.

Harry found himself smiling once again, but this time rather ruefully. "What would I do
without you, Luna?"

She made a sort of humming sound, cocked her head to the other side, and said, "Probably
languish in self-pity for a few more weeks, then get over it when you finally realized you
were being rather silly."

He snorted. "Probably, that sounds about right. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Luna said with a grin in his direction, the same sort of mysterious one
she'd given him before they'd had sex in the Great Hall, "I have ulterior motives, after all."

Intrigued, Harry sat up in the chair. "Oh?"

"Indeed. I plan on getting thoroughly shagged tonight."

"I... see. And who's going to do that?"

"Well, I'm hoping you will, to start. And then I'd like to take you to meet my pleasure-friends.
I did tell you it would be this month, and there's only one weekend left. We will have to
hurry."

"Ah. Yes. Um... alright. It's going to be getting late, but I suppose we can fit it in."

"Oh, I can assure you, it will fit in," Luna giggled, and then reached up to begin pulling her
robes from her shoulders. "It will fit in any hole... unless you make yourself quite large. But
that's cheating. I would prefer the same size, or thereabouts, as you were on your first date,
Harry."

Her intentions quite obvious to him this time (and again Harry cursed himself for missing the
first few times she'd asked, although maybe not the very first, as she hadn't been ready then
by her own admission), he joined her in stripping down to nothing as quickly as possible,
even while the room changed around them, losing the chairs and tea set and table, replacing
them with a simple, sheet-covered bed frame without a foot board, similar to the one he'd had
in his dungeon bedroom before adding the rest.

Simple, efficient, effective, comfortable. Harry grinned. "Any hole, you say?"

"I would not mind all holes," Luna shrugged, "but remember that my previous partners have
enjoyed all of them at once many times. At first, the bum was uncomfortable as well, but I
grew to love it. I suspect I will enjoy it quite as much as vaginally when you do the same,
Harry. It's entirely up to you when. Then same applies to my mouth. You'll find I have even
less gag reflex than I hear Hermione does."

Harry froze for a moment, looking up at her with both half-dressed, him bent down to pull off
his shoes. "That's... impressive."

Luna only shrugged, "Easily explained by the nature of my common partners, however.
You'll understand when you meet them later. How would you like me first?"

"I think first I'd like to prove I enjoy going down on you, actually."

Treacle was his favorite, after all, and chocolate a close second.

"Alright. I'll lay down then, shall I?"

Harry watched as the younger girl climbed onto the bed, which currently had only a single,
fitted sheet of beige coloration on it, then roll over and spread her legs a bit. Then she shifted
further up, forcing Harry to chase her as she moved back again and again, a few inches at a
time, until he was laying face-down and she was sitting against the headboard.

When she could go no further, an amused Harry grabbed the girl by her thick, muscled
thighs, wrapping both arms around them, and then leaned in, looking up to watch Luna's
reaction. She was bent at the stomach, her spine arching to let him still lick at her pussy while
she was sitting mostly upright otherwise, but it didn't seem to bother the girl.

Or maybe she was too distracted by pleasure as his tongue lashed repeatedly around her outer
folds, moving in slowly just as he had done last time in the Great Hall. "Mm... that's very
nice, Harry. Keep doing that."

"My pleasure," he spoke against her nether lips, one hand releasing her thigh to reach up and
grope her breasts, one after the other. He was already tracing letters and runes on Luna's
folds, relishing the brief flashes of her flavor as his tongue crossed over her moistened core,
either large ones that took up the entire space between her legs, or tiny ones that even
Hermione could not have matched with a quill-tip, the thick end of his tongue crossing the
same area dozens of times with each rune-set he 'wrote' on her flesh.

Only a scant minute or two in, Luna sighed and leaned back onto her elbows after a bit,
coaxing him to go faster, "Harry, make me cum on your mouth, please... I'd like to orgasm
now."
"Impatient," he teased, but then pulled the witch's clit and hood between his lips with a bit of
suction, and used his tongue to thrash the underside of it, the part almost never touched.

Almost at once, Luna's eyes rolled back in her head. Her thighs vibrated furiously on either
side of him as she began to convulse, clearly taken by surprise at how forceful her climax
was. Harry slowed progressively as it continued, and the girl squirted twice against his chin
and lower lip as she experienced not just one, but three orgasms in quick succession from the
unusual treatment, before Harry's slowing pace backed off completely.

"Huh... that's a new spot," Harry grinned into Luna's now sopping pussy, and pressed a soft
kiss to her clit again before pushing up onto his arms and leaning in to kiss Luna.

She sighed into it, the arm not still massaging her tits going around his head to pull him in
closer. "Friends don't kiss friends like that," she sighed as they broke apart, her flavor fresh
on her own tongue thanks to him. Now both of their chins were wet, too.

"Lovers do, and lovers can be friends," Harry told her.

"Hm... yes, that sounds right. Very well, Harry. We can kiss again, and still remain friends."

"Love to."

He did, more gently, before nibbling on her lower lip and pulling it away. Luna cooed and
whimpered just before he let go. "Now... I think I'd like it if you kissed a different part of me,
Luna."

"Oh. Well... alright. But I'm far more used to just having my mouth fucked."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. And if not... I can do that, too. Would you like that?"

Luna responded by pushing him away from her, following until Harry was on his back
instead, and she knelt between his legs. "I already said that you could put your penis
wherever you wanted in me, Harry. After that tongue-lashing, I think I need to be scolded
more... I also think that you've earned anything I can do for you."

"That good, huh?"

"The very best I've had," Luna told him seriously, before wrapping a hand around his base
and leaning in to lick his balls. She pumped slowly, luxuriating in the feel of him in her hand
while her tongue worked on him, in turn.

Harry appreciated every moment. Even Lilith might struggle to make him feel better with a
hand than Luna did seemingly without any effort on her end. Obviously, she was not wet and
didn't cover him, but somehow, one small, long-fingered hand was enough to make him feel
truly delightful, and Harry had to wonder if she was even better at getting him off that way
than he was.

Somehow, she seemed to know intuitively what to do to urge him closer to the edge with
every stroke. But she never pushed him over, her speed and grip slowing whenever he got too
close, though her tongue kept licking at his scrotum, above, below, beneath, and even at the
bottom of his penis below that. Only after she'd been bathing him like a cat for several
minutes did Luna start to rise, slathering her smooth, moistened tongue over his dick itself,
back and forth, higher and higher still, until she reached the head, where she teased the
perineum for several seconds, and Harry felt like he might burst.

"Put it in," he groaned as she did that, bucking slightly against her lips.

Luna grinned, slapped her lips a few times with his dick, then started peppering more kisses
around his head, then down each side, alternating left and right, until reaching his sack again.
"Why? I thought you wanted to see my blow-job technique, Harry."

"This isn't a blow-job, this is torture," Harry told her. "Bloody brilliant torture, but I couldn't
cum like this. Not without cheating."

"If you want to spray it on my face, cheat," Luna shrugged nonchalantly. "But you kissed my
genitals for quite some time, I think it only right that I return the favor. I'll stop when you
finish, or when the time is equal."

Harry groaned. Is it worth it...?

No. He waited, letting the girl continue to tease and lick him, pumping occasionally but never
quite putting his dick in her mouth, for nearly twenty minutes. "I think that's fair," Luna said
after some clock he could not hear triggered her, "Now I can let you fuck my face."

Luna finally opened her mouth to him, leaned forward slightly with her back hunched to help
with the angle, and then dropped her entire mouth and throat onto him, bottoming out at
once.

"Oh, fuck," Harry groaned at the sudden increase in stimulation. Hermione and Lilith could
both deep-throat him easily, but the witch couldn't do it at this angle, and the Succubus had to
change her form a bit to do so. Yet Luna, smaller than the human girl and only a little bigger
than the child-sized Lilith, had done so fully in one go, without even practicing.

Then she stopped moving, her lips wrapped around his base, her tongue moving gently
around him, but otherwise just... laying there.

It took Harry a moment to figure out why. "Er... Luna? You okay?"

She nodded, but didn't take herself off of him. Instead, Luna reached up with the hand not
supporting her to move her hair out of the way so he could see her beautiful blue eyes
looking up at him across his stomach. "Fmmf Mffeh."

"Wh- What? I can't understand you."

Even in that position, he saw Luna's eyes crinkle into an amused smile. She pulled off, not
even breathing hard despite having had him balls-deep in her throat for over a minute, "I said
fuck me, Harry. Use my mouth like a pussy. I'd like to taste your semen, now."

Then she leaned down again, and repeated the gesture, burying his entire ten-plus inches in
her head and throat.
"Oh... my... gods," Harry panted as she swallowed once, then shifted her knees inward to sit
on them, instead, and used the freed-up hand to gently knead his scrotum. "You're fucking
serious, aren't you?"

Hermione could, as had been stated, get throat-fucked ridiculously well, but she claimed to
enjoy doing the work herself more. She liked being the active one, the one bringing a bloke
pleasure. Luna, equally capable or maybe even more in that regard, seemed to prefer letting
him be active, instead.

If that's what she wants...

So Harry fisted one hand in Luna's thick, dirty-blonde hair, while the other rested at the back
of her head, and then thrust up with his hips. She bounced against him, but made no sign of
protest, or even discomfort. Not a single noise, aside from the gag-like, pleghp as air was
forced out of her throat and then let back in.

Luna squirmed a bit, twisting her head on his length, then let her hair go for a moment to
send a single, clear gesture. "Keep going."

"You're amazing," Harry groaned again, and continued holding her head still while he
humped up into her.

His cock bent a little backward as he pushed fully in, but Luna's posture and position were
apparently designed to let him do exactly as he was doing, use her oral cavity and upper
digestive tract as a fuck-toy. And it was sensational, glorious to feel and experience. Her
throat wasn't nearly as tight as most others he'd been in. In fact, it seemed well used to
stretching to accommodate a phallus for as far down as he could reach, but Luna was still
swallowing around him, coaxing more pleasure from his body. Her lips maintained a tight
suction, too, only occasionally releasing to let her take a breath as he fucked her face hard
and fast, slamming her head down into his hips as he pumped harder and harder.

When he came, it was with a roar of release and tsunami of satisfaction that made Harry think
he could die content in that moment. She seemed to have no problems with Harry spilling
huge gouts of whiteness into her esophagus. After his release began to subside, Harry let his
trembling hands fall from his companion's head, but she stayed there a few seconds longer,
rotating her head around his shaft a few more times before closing her mouth on him even
tighter, and sucking for the first time as she slowly slid off.

Harry felt like she'd teased out, in that last motion, another mini orgasm of his own, along
with a tablespoon or so of cum that'd been left in his shaft. Luna tossed her hair back once
more, then opened her mouth to show him the leavings, and swallowed that with a quite
pleased-looking grin. Now, she was breathing a bit faster, but not nearly as hard as he was.

"That was fun," Luna giggled, leaning down to kiss his tip once before sliding up his body,
dragging her D-cups against his skin to kiss him on the mouth again, too. "But we should get
going. You can use more of me later."

"You are so amazing," Harry groaned as the girl then slid sideways, off the bed, and started
reaching for her clothing.
"Thank you, Harry. You are a rather skilled lover yourself. I can't wait to have you in all my
holes. Perhaps some time after I get a Rune-set, you can grow two cocks and stuff both of the
lower two at once."

Harry groaned, feeling his member swiftly growing back to full at the thought of it. "Yeah...
yeah, I think I will. I've done it before, it, uh... it's pretty spectacular."

"Poo. I'd hoped I would be first. Still, I'm sure I'll enjoy it all the same. Are you getting
dressed?"

"I guess," Harry chuckled, "but we could totally stay here and do another round. Or three."

"I would like to introduce you to the ones that took my virginities, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Seems you sucked the plan right out of me."

"Maybe I did. Maybe I will next time, too. Hurry, please."

With that tempting thought, he had little choice but to obey.

Harry followed Luna out of the Room of Requirement and down seven flights of stairs,
pausing only for a few moments to pull his Invisibility Cloak from his robes and throw it
over their shoulders. As slight as she was, the cloth still just dusted the floor with both of
them inside it now. Luna smiled up at him as she took a section in her hand, pulling it around
her body to better hide both from the side.

A few seconds later they passed through the entrance hall and out onto the front stairs of
Hogwarts. Harry's mind suddenly flashed to darker moments a few days earlier, and the
wizard's eyes scanned the cracked, worn stone blocks, but found no sign of blood through the
star and moonlight, or even that streaming through the still-open door behind them. There
was a suspiciously clean area, roughly circular, a little toward the south side of the stairs,
though. "That's where they found Vicky's body," he murmured.

Luna followed his gaze and answered softly, "I'd imagine so."

The Ravenclaw did not stop or slow down however, but Harry could see her eyes sweep the
area as they passed, too. He gave the lighter, scoured spot another quick glance, hoping to
find some clue or trace that he and the other investigators might have missed. Perhaps a tiny
fleck of blood?

There was nothing new to be seen, nothing out of place, aside from the brighter-looking
stone. As they stepped from the stairs themselves onto the flagstone path, Luna sent Harry a
concerned glance even as her pace quickened a little, "I can't say I knew Vicky well, but there
is no echo of her here that I can sense."

"Huh? Echo? What do you mean?"

"The echo that the soul of someone experiencing strong emotions as they died would leave
on a place, of course."
"Not sure I follow," Harry admitted. Luna had been odd for the entire year and a half he'd
known her. It was an endearing trait to him. But for all her fanciful creatures and unusual
beliefs, Harry had never heard her talk about souls like that.

Any doubts he might have had about their existence had faded as soon as he had learned
about Horcruxes from Dumbledore, though. It stood to reason: If Horcruxes worked by
housing a fragment of a soul, then souls must exist. Ghosts, once something he had suspected
as being a sort of psychic imprint, had suddenly become more real to him than they had ever
been before- and he'd befriended one in his second year of Hogwarts. But since you could not
split nothing, not even with magic... but he trusted Dumbledore, and the old wizard had
spoken too often of Souls themselves in that meeting earlier in the year when he had told
Harry and Lilith 'everything', and then again when they had brought him Slughorn's true
memory.

Far more than the mere shades that had come from Voldemort's wand in the graveyard of
Little Hangleton, too, a soul was, as far as Harry could tell, an actual, real part of a person.
No memory, no imprint, no echo, but an intrinsic part of what separated the living from the
dead, as ephemeral as they seemed to be.

Dementors, too, had almost rendered Harry himself soulless on more than one occasion. He
had physically seen something being pulled from Hermione and later Sirius' mouths before
the Patronus he had thought belonged to his father had driven them all off, saving them in his
third year. Only after learning about the Horcruxes had Harry truly begun to associate that
light with a soul, though in retrospect all the clues had been there as soon as he'd first heard
about the Dementor's Kiss.

That left him with a burning question that Harry asked as they passed through the worn
menhir and Luna led him onto the sloping, flag-stone staired trail that would take them to
Hagrid's Hut and beyond that to the Forbidden Forest. "What does that mean, though? That
there was no... what did you call it? An Echo?"

Luna looked up at him, considering for a moment, her pace slowing again in her distraction.
"It could mean several things, I suppose. But I think the most likely is that Vicky was killed
somewhere other than the stairs, and at an earlier time. I've read that the soul can linger
briefly in a body after death, but rarely longer than an hour. So I would think that Vicky
Frobisher was killed at least an hour, possibly much longer given the rumored state of decay
her body was in, before her remains were left on the castle steps."

Harry snorted with dark amusement, "You know more than you let on sometimes, don't you?"

In response, the girl beamed up at him, her blue eyes twinkling and shining, then increased
her pace again.

Luna Lovegood did not lead Harry to Hagrid's, for which he was grateful. As much as a part
of him appreciated imagining the half-giant enjoying Lilith's particular brand of ministration,
he did not want Luna to have experienced her first sexual encounters with him. Or Grawp, he
thought grimly as she continued on sure steps to lead him into the forest itself, heedless of the
late hour or darkness ahead.
Perhaps fifty feet into the tree line, she stopped and stepped out of the cloak, and held it open
for Harry to more easily shrug it off as well. "We won't need this now, until we come back."

"Er, al- alright. You aren't worried about the- the spiders? I think they're Acromantula. Or
Hagrid? Centaurs?"

With a knowing smile, Luna shook her had and waited with a tapping foot as Harry rolled up
the cloak impossibly small as always and pushed it into his pocket. "I think we will be fine.
I've been coming here since I was thirteen. The route is not dangerous, and we aren't going
that far in. Barely beyond earshot, so I have to be careful to keep myself from moaning too
loud, sometimes. I'm afraid I've woken up Hagrid more than once."

Harry frowned at Luna, but found himself mesmerized by her petite, swaying backside as he
followed her cheerful, bouncing steps down a trail he had others in his class had once
followed to meet Thestrals, and later the previous year, Hagrid's half-brother, the stunted
giant, Grawp.

Again, Harry grew worried, but quickly realized that no, the math didn't add up. Grawp
would not have been in England, much less at Hogwarts, when Luna was thirteen. She was a
little less than a year younger than him, so that would have been in his fourth year, and he
hadn't met Grawp until the year after that.

A little while later, Luna hooked down a smaller, barely-visible game trail off the path
leading to the half-giant, and he grew more concerned. Now, if he was right, they were
following more or less parallel to the edge of the forest, along the river that fed the black lake
in the direction away from Hogsmeade Village. He'd never been in this part of the forest, but
at least it was also further away from Aragog's colony. He had no fear of spiders, unlike Ron,
but he could happily avoid that place for the rest of his life, thanks.

The pair continued following the path for a good twenty minutes, curving slowly toward the
north, before Luna stopped abruptly enough that Harry actually ran into her, making Luna
stumble a half-step forward. Then she turned to look at him, her face serious, but her eyes
shining in the scant light that filtered through the forest canopy. "Harry, you must listen to
what I am going to tell you. There are three key points you need to understand before we go
any further."

"Er, okay," he nodded.

"First, I do this- I have always done this- with consent and knowledge of what I was 'getting
into'. I have never been forced here."

"Al- Alright, that's- uh, that's good to know." The worry was suddenly back, full force,
though for reasons Harry could not quite define.

"Second, while I will be very happy if you ejaculate in whatever orifices you desire tonight,
whether mine or another's, I must ask that you keep your clothing on for the most part."

"Er... Okay, now I'm really confused."

She gave him another mysterious little smile and elaborated, "They are... not picky. Clothing
will help to keep you from doing things you would not otherwise be willing to do. Please
trust me on that. And keep your mouth shut, too. No talking."

"But-"

"Third," Luna interrupted, raising a finger to his lips, "If the sun begins to rise and I am still
engaged, please remove me from this place and help me return to the castle. I would not like
to miss breakfast again simply because I am... caught up in things."

Harry blinked. Of all her requests this night, that was perhaps the strangest, if the most
straight-forward. "Er, alright. I- I can do that."

Again, Luna smiled at him, "Lastly, enjoy yourself. I know I will."

Then, despite her own warnings for him to leave his clothes on, Luna quickly began stripping
out of the robes she had hastily thrown on before they had left the Room of Requirement,
leaned up to press her delicious, tiny but full-chested body against his, and kissed him softly,
"Let's go meet my fuck-friends."

The clearing, as far as Harry could tell, was largely empty. Twenty feet or so across, almost
perfectly circular, the only things littering the ground were pine cones, seeds, and leaves of
the trees nearby, most of which seemed quite vibrant and healthy, though caught up in the
mid-winter season. In deference to that weather, Luna had left on her shoes and socks, but
seemed unperturbed by the cold as she walked across the lightly snow-dusted ground toward
the only true feature in the middle of the clearing: a large flower-bud that stood perhaps at
Harry's own elbow height, or to Luna's shoulders. It was wrapped in thick, spiny green
leaves, but still showed a bit of purple color that shone oddly in the now much more clear
light from the heavens.

Something about the flower, closed as it was in winter but gigantic, seemed familiar to Harry,
but he could not place it in that moment. Another twinge occurred to him as the girl stepped
closer, and lifted her right hand to rest it on the folded petals of the flower itself, then
whispered something he could not quite make out. Harry stepped closer, a question on his
lips, before he remembered her admonition not to speak.

Then he noticed the flower start to open slowly, and from the base, which rested on a short,
very thick stalk just a few inches over the ground, vines began to move and twist, twining
and searching over the snow and ground, as if looking for... something.

Heat, he realized after a moment, when even the ones from the far side of the plant began to
turn and move toward Luna as the first, nearest ones reached her shoes and began to rise.

They slithered, snake-like, in slow motion up her body as the blonde girl turned slowly to
face Harry, a beatific smile on her face that belied what could have been a nightmare scenario
for most girls. "Wait just a few more moments, Harry," Luna chirped, and one of the vines
crested high enough to circle the point where her thigh met her groin, and she sighed, letting
her eyes drift closed. "Watch, don't talk. I'll probably be too distracted to remind you in a
moment, but when or if you want to join, simply pull- pull one out and replace it quickly with
yourself."

"Pull one-" he asked, "wait, Luna, are you letting the plant do it?"

"Ssh," she said a last time, smiling, and then let out a quick gasp and shudder as her body was
suddenly penetrated by the tip of that first, highest vine. "Yes, I missed you, Alra," she cooed
in response to nothing Harry could hear, "and I brought a friend. But you can't penetrate him.
No, he won't like it, I'm sure. Yes, you can always enjoy me, of course."

The first vine that had shot into Luna's pussy smoothly and easily began to swell and pump,
twisting inside her as it withdrew part-way and pushed back in. Harry felt his own cock stir in
response to the sight. It was both horrifying and oddly erotic, watching the tiny girl be
pleasured by a strange plant, like some green tentacled beast of the sort Dudley occasionally
liked to watch on his computer before Harry had introduced him to Jill and Penny, the two
girls that lived at Number Twelve, Privet Drive.

Over the next thirty or so seconds, more of the tentacle-like vines slithered toward Luna and
began to crawl their way up her legs, twining up and around her until, with a slight squeak of
surprise from the blonde girl, she was lifted entirely off the ground by a mass of them that
had circled her thighs and waist. They held her upright with her toes a few inches over the
snow-pack, and Luna sighed in pleasure as the vine in her tight little cunt throbbed again
before it started moving faster. Even as it did, the thicker vines around the girl's legs pulled
them apart until the witch looked like she was squatting with her legs wide open, almost like
those American cheerleaders would do at their strange soccer (or was it football, over there?)
games, when they would crouch with their knees wide and thrust their pelvis out.

Just as Harry had that thought, his imagination played out before him in real time as two
more vines made their serpentine way around Luna's wrists and pulled her off-balance
backward, just enough that her crotch was aimed nearly perfectly in his direction as the girl
herself began humping back in counterpoint to the vine's work in her pussy. That's... really
disturbing. She's basically getting assaulted by a... plant. But it's also pretty hot, I have to
admit, Harry thought to himself, then repeated it with a bit more force, intending to send the
message to Lilith up at the Castle.

A powerful emotion of shock and pleasure combined accompanied her mental reply, "Really,
Master? The Childe of the Moon is getting off- has been getting off- to plants for... possibly
years? I've been in her dreams for ten months, and she's kept that hidden from me, the kinky
little devil. Heh... well, you know what I say. Fuck 'em both if you want, but I need to have a
serious talk with that girl. I hope you bring her in fully soon."

"Well, I can't make any promises," he sent back, "but if this plays out like I expect it to, and
she wasn't lying about what she told me before, that will happen sooner rather than later.
We're months behind on bringing in others, though. I'd planned on doing Parvati, maybe her
twin sister Padma, Daphne, Tracey, and Susan all before Yule, but we didn't make that goal."

"There's time... unless your Dark Lord, or his servants make a move of course. Perhaps
you're right, Master. I'm full of energy these days, so I don't see why we can't do a few at least
in short order. I'll bring it up with your friends while you're out tonight. Have fun with the
Moon Childe and her deviant little ways."

I intend to, Harry thought with a grin, both his own benefit and the Succubus'. He'd very
much enjoyed Luna their first time together after Slughorn's party, and even an hour or so ago
in the Room of Requirement she had satisfied him very well (and he hoped he had been good
for her too). Even thinking about it now, just a short time later, he ached to give the tiny girl
another creampie. Maybe this time, in addition to her perfect little cunt, he could do it in her
arse, too. She seemed to want to.

Again, what Harry was thinking about happened, though not in the way he had expected.
Luna, humping in the air before him, naked except for her socks and shoes, squealed as
another vine shot upward into the air and prodded for just a moment below the first one she
was fucking, then let out a louder yelp of pleasure and pain combined as it pushed past her
anus forcefully. "Oh, Circe," the witch cried, "Yes, Alra! Fuck my arse, fuck it hard! Make
me cum from two of you!"

The wizard's dick throbbed in his trousers again at her words. He couldn't really see the lower
vine that well since it was a bit below the one in the girl he had once thought was so innocent
too, but Harry suddenly wanted a much better view of her being double-penetrated by two of
the thick, snake-like ropes, and stepped forward several paces until he was just past arm's-
reach from her feet. "Mmm, watch me, Harry," Luna cooed suddenly, and he looked up to see
her staring down her own body between her breasts, which hung to the side around her ribs
just a little at this angle but were already swaying and swinging in circles with the rapid-fire
thrusting of the two vines abusing her body. "Watch me get fucked by Alra!"

"I am," he told her, then slapped his mouth shut as one of the dozen or so vines that were
neither holding Luna up or ravaging her suddenly darted toward his open mouth. It stopped
as if confused a few inches away from his rapidly paling face, then began to weave, snake-
like, through the air in a figure eight for a few seconds. Afterward, it slowly turned like it had
fallen prey to a snake-charmer and slithered back toward the blonde. "Yes, yes," Luna hissed
as she spotted it, somehow, while bouncing wildly through the winter night air, her hands
grasping at nothing while she was bound and apparently thoroughly enjoying the entire
experience, "Use my mouth, too, Alra! Harry doesn't like it, but I do, I do!"

He was given a glimpse of what fate might have awaited him if he'd closed his mouth a
moment later when that very vine circled Luna's throat lightly, then moved to prod at her lips.
The wanton little witch opened her mouth wide, and then made a soft gagging sound as he
started to gape, careful only to keep his lips sealed while doing it.

No fewer than two feet of the tentacle shoved itself into Luna's mouth all at once, smooth and
fast, and he watched the same tentacle just a little further down stretch in the coil around her
neck as it was forced tighter. He could see too where it made the girl's body swell and move
to her clavicle, and a few moments later, almost gasped again as he saw a brief swelling in
her stomach, just below Luna's visible lower ribs, before that spot began to pulse rapidly in
time with what he now knew was the tentacle's thrusts in and out of her mouth.

Merlin, I hope she's okay, Harry thought, genuinely concerned. The flower's vines were now
in her arse, pussy, and mouth all at once, but it seemed Luna was not quite done yet. Another,
smaller, thinner one suddenly flew around her right tit too, squeezing it from the base so that
it swelled and started to darken with cut-off circulation, before the little tip of it flicked and
prodded at the swollen, very engorged nipple.

"Moff Goffrrm!" he heard Luna try and say, her brilliant blue eyes wide-open and staring at
the star-lit sky.

He had no idea what she was trying to say, but Harry was tired of waiting. With a quiet zip,
Harry pulled out his own swollen member and started stroking it as the first vine sent three
swollen bits up its length. He traced them with his eyes until they reached Luna's dripping,
red cunt which was forced even wider as she let out another tightly-muffled scream and her
body spasmed almost like she was being electrocuted. At the same time, a viscous, custard-
colored cream shot out from within her, no doubt jettisoned from some unseen hole or holes
in the vine.

Harry groaned in no small amount of jealousy, his own sound still carefully hidden behind
closed lips as the hand on his dick sped up. He wanted to cum in the girl! But there's time for
that, he reminded himself. Luna would soon, if all went as he wanted and hoped, be Rune-
gifted and able to climax as much as she wanted without feeling exhausted afterward.

Its ejaculation finished, the fine withdrew, letting what looked like at least a pint of the same
slightly yellow cream fall onto the snow below Luna. But a moment later another fine took
its place, pumping immediately even as more of the cream was forced out by its actions.
There was no way, Harry realized, that the plant-creature had been able to do this to Luna for
months without some kind of damage.

Fuck, she'll probably never have children, as small as she is, taking three things like that in
her all the time, and one after another after another, too! But she seems to really be loving it.

Harry wasn't sure what to feel about that realization.

Do I even want to have a kid with Luna? I mean, I like her. We're good friends, I think, and
she's certainly beautiful, and a good lay. But... a child?

He wasn't sure he could see it. Wasn't sure it was possible, even, given the abuse her body
was enduring. She said she was doing this since her third year, so... about two years, give or
take six months, I guess, and didn't she also say she came here a couple of times a week,
almost every week? Damn, no wonder she's taking it so well. But still- that's gotta be rough. I
don't know if even Ron and I double-teaming someone would make them shake like that.
Maybe me and Lils...

Harry shuddered as he felt an orgasm, unusual drawn by hand and lust alone, begin to
approach. He grinned too as he stepped in a little closer, and started humping his hips into his
grip, unconsciously mirroring the thrusts of the vines into Luna's body. The tendril in her arse
suddenly swelled with a trio of fluid-filled bursts, and then more of the same vaguely sweet,
almost honey-scented cream shot out of the witch's rear hole around the vine as well.

That was enough to trigger not just Harry's climax, but the vine above it in her cunt, too,
though it had only been inside for a few minutes. As his long, slow strokes continued to slick
around his hand and always-ready cock, the second rope in Luna's pussy slowly withdrew,
and Harry reached out with his spare left hand to grab at the top of the next one already ready
to take its place. "Uh, uh," he grunted through clenched teeth, "Mfy trmf."

No other vines moved in, though several now swayed angrily around them, but the moment
Harry stepped between Luna's legs and pushed inside her, another squeal left her body around
the tentacle there, which started moving faster in her throat. He felt, just a few seconds after
that, another, thicker, more bulb-tipped vine enter Luna's ass and start filling it rapidly again,
providing even more sensation for his highly-sensitive, overused dick. Harry groaned, leaned
into suckle Luna's unmolested tit, and started thrusting.

Luna liked to be used, it seemed, and Harry was happy to oblige.

As turned on as he was by the strange eroticism of the scene, Harry only rutted at Luna for a
couple of minutes, just long enough for the vines holding her aloft to start thrusting her body
downward in time with his, then lifting again as he withdrew. The increased effective pace
and the sticky, gooey yellow cream that Harry had pushed past (and he was no stranger now
to sloppy seconds, so the idea no longer weirded him out as it once had) seemed to both
warm his skin even more than Luna's steaming-hot body did, at the same time as it caused a
pleasant tingling everywhere it touched. I bet that feels spectacular deep in a pussy... I might
have to let Iris come play one of these nights. Maybe when it's warmer.

But despite the thought, Harry knew he wasn't the least bit cold. The temperature in the
Forbidden Forest was often chilly even in summer thanks to the shade, but in late January, at
night? It had to be frigid. He still did not really feel it aside from a vague sense that it was
'cold out'. Either my body's adapted, like Lilith's does naturally, or I just don't feel the
temperature as much any more. Either way, it's nice. No more need for warming charms.

Almost leisurely, Harry started humping the moment his ejaculation was complete, his fluids
mixing in with the plant's cream inside Luna's open and eager womb. But neither the witch
nor the plant were having anything of his slow pace. Instead, still quite erect, the vines
moved her on him with even more speed, until Luna's heavy, full tits bounced and rolled in
the air, and her hair seemed simultaneously suspended in the air, floating, or being yanked
downward by her body's rise.

Harry watched as the vine in the witch's mouth and throat began moving three large, swollen
bulbs of fluid down their length too, all the way from below the massive bud, up through the
air, and down again to force the blonde's mouth open even wider with each bulge that passed.
Her throat swelled too, and Harry groaned at the ease with which the petite girl took it. He
could even swear that each pulse the vine unleashed in Luna's stomach, he could feel with the
tip of his cock as it was buried in her, the reverberations through her body quite obvious.

Eventually, grinning in bliss, Harry decided to simply stand there and let the vines do the
work, masturbating both him and Luna with each other's genitals, even while one vine after
another unloaded more and more of the cream into her arse and stomach. When he had
climaxed again, Harry stepped back, waved more of the vines on, and then watched as
another immediately plunged right back into her now gaping cunt.
Shortly after, a second of the narrower, twisting vines that circled Luna's breast joined on the
other side, and a third snaked around her waist before opening wide, flower-like almost, to
settle around her tiny, half-exposed clit.

Luna jerked and spasmed in the air, clearly lost in the throes of ecstasy, but still the vines
continued using her, her cries of passion and pleasure muffled by the thick green rope in her
throat. After several minutes of idly stroking himself to the highly arousing sight, Harry
noticed a new type of vine, a little thicker than the thin ones but not nearly as wide as the
larger ones, crawling not toward Luna, but toward him, where he now stood in the snow a
few feet away.

It did not rise in the air until it was just a few inches away, and did so again like a charmed
serpent, up to the level of his crotch. "Noff whay," he tried to sound through clenched teeth.
Not even a tiny one was going in his dick, and certainly not that thing- it was almost as thick
as he was!

But the plant, it seemed, had other plans. Unseen by him, six vines had gotten behind him
while he stared at Luna. Two each circled his knees, and two more just above and below each
elbow. They yanked him into the air too, but only far enough that he could not touch the
ground. "Mmfnnng!"

He struggled, but even his enhanced strength did not seem to be enough, for the vines simply
twisted and swung in the air, adjusting and moving with him.

Then the mid-sized vine, like the smaller ones, opened at the tip like an iris, spinning and
twirling as the petals released into soft, wide, leaf-like flanges. Shit, it's not letting go, but- is-
is that hollow? I mean I guess it has to be for the fluid to move, but... what-

The vine closed around his dick, and Harry's struggles immediately lessened. "Oh, Merlin,"
he grunted, before slamming his mouth shut again.

This particular vine was not thrusting. It was pulling, tugging and squirming around him
almost like... like Lilith's throat, when the... the thing, whatever it was, she transformed her
body into from her world...

"Extakkrithamvfflaggrothm, Master," Lilith's mental voice sent to him, "Are you in danger?
You seem... confused. You're outside the castle, too. That's weird."

Only just remembering when she sent her own reply that they could communicate that way,
Harry focused for a moment, which seemed strangely difficult as he was being pleasured
quite thoroughly yet again, "I... I think I'm okay? It's... the same... magical creature. Or plant.
I'll have Luna show you later, I- fuck. It feels really good. I don't think I'm in danger..."

"Alright, Master. Call if you need me. I won't be far. Some of the boys in the castle have been
naughty... and the girls, too. Lots to eat!"

Harry felt the twisting tightness of the vine, which was warmer than the outside air but
nowhere near a body's temperature, grow little nodules inside as it moved, making it even
more like the strange creature from Lilith's world. It feels an awful lot like her sucking me off
that way, actually... and... yeah... it can definitely, absolutely make me cum!

For the fifth time in a couple of hours, Harry sent a load outward, but this time it was the vine
that took it in, rather than sending it out. It did not stop, though, but moved all nine pulses,
much smaller than its own but more numerous, inward at a rapid pace. He was still hard... it
still felt amazing, and Luna looked so scrumptious being ravaged by not just three vines, but
four now with two in her tight little pussy...

Harry might have been distracted, but there was no way he could miss the petals of the huge
blossom shiver, shaking off snow and frost, and then slowly open, one petal at a time, until
they were wide, laying over leaf and white-dusted ground. Even more so, he could not have
missed the humanoid, but very clearly not human figure that stood from a near-fetal position
in the center of where the bulb had been.

She was... female. That was obvious. Four or five feet tall, at the most, if Harry's distracted
brain measured right, just a little shorter than Luna. Maybe thirty pounds lighter, even more
slender, elfin of features. She had breasts, but no areolae. A slit between her legs, but no hair,
anywhere on her body that he could see. Instead, from the top of the- the plant-girl, for lack
of a better word's- head, a much smaller blossom like the one she had just stepped off of
grew, with a few pistils and stamen sprouting from it. Behind her, too, Harry could see a vine,
six inches or more thick, stretching from somewhere behind her to the base of the now open
flower as the plant-girl stepped toward him.

Her features seemed almost fluid, or not quite defined, but as she moved on dainty feet that
barely left tracks in the snow toward him, Harry could see that she did in fact gain darker
spots at the tips of her breasts but not quite nipples, and the once blank, featureless 'face'
grew a simple nose shape, two eyes, more clearly defined but very much not human for they
had no iris, pupil, or sclera but were framed by lids of the same botanic material as the rest of
her, and plump, full, pine-green lips several shades darker than the rest of her leaf-green skin.
Flesh. Whatever it is.

The little creature stopped a few inches from Harry, cocked its head as it looked up,
observing him for a moment, then back down at the place its own vine was still trying to milk
another load from him. It was one that Harry was growing increasingly happy to provide,
despite what should have been a level of tiredness even he wasn't used to.

Concepts moved into his mind. Images and thoughts completely alien in format,
understandable only by the basest of idea. If he were not increasingly adept at communicating
mentally, Harry would have had no idea whatsoever how to even interpret what was suddenly
happening. Too, the ideas were muffled, indistinct.

Then the tiny little creature rose into the air two feet, floating up in an almost angelic way as
she was lifted by the thick vine coming from her back, and shot forward to kiss him.

Harry let his mouth open by instinct, and the moment he did, he coughed as a little
something, hard, seed-like, hit the back of his throat and was swallowed on reflex.
He tried to fight once more, to cough it up, but the vines were still holding him tightly. Harry
thought that maybe, just maybe, if he used all his strength he could resist, that the vines
would not be able to take that, but he did not truly wish to harm this... thing. Whatever it was,
it had brought both Luna and he a fair bit of pleasure, and had not really hurt him.

It wasn't like it was raping his mouth with a vine. Yet.

After a few seconds of kissing him almost woodenly (and Harry hated that he thought of the
pun at once), the creature withdrew and settled on the snow once more. Behind her and to
Harry's right, Luna spasmed in another climax, one of many, as the vines continued using her
body, swapping out each time one finished inside her. There was a queue still, and Harry only
then realized that there were no vines that seemed sated. Each one spilled itself, then was
ready again just a few moments later.

Just like the one milking him.

Another concept hit his mind, but it was clearer, accompanied by cows, white fluid in bottles
and bags, school lunch drinks in primary, and... Milk.

She smiled up at him, showing oddly well-defined, but still wooden, teeth and a tongue made
of the same colored, smooth-feeling flesh that formed the petals of the larger plant, or
adorned her head. Milk. Good. You.

Good equated to pleasure, such as what Luna was feeling, or the plant did, with either
pumping into the witch, or milking him.

"You" was an easy enough concept for anything with a modicum of self-awareness, which the
plant-creature clearly displayed.

But still, it shook its head and frowned in an oddly humanlike gesture, then raised a half-
formed hand to its face. Fingers became more clear over a few moments, then it pointed first
at Harry. You.

Then sent, Milk. Good. Another point, this time at itself, Me.

You, milk, good, me. Me good, you... There was a pause, and the head cocked once more as
images of seasons, the sun rising, falling, and setting. Time passing, Harry thought, then
understood as another concept followed, more clearly. Me good, you wait, give milk.

But not just a few cows and heavy, swollen breasts. By the thousands, tens of thousands.

Two more images as his eyes widened, and another point at itself, Me, growth. You milk give,
me growth.

He frowned, but did not dare open his mouth. With a grunt, he brought his right hand toward
them, and held his fingers a short distance apart, struggling against the vines, and tried to
think, "A small amount... yes."

It was the best he could do, but the plant, after a few moments to think about it, seemed to
agree for it smiled again, and sent back, Good. Pleasure. This good. You pleasure, me grow.
As it forced another climax from him, Harry could only sigh in pleasure. There were worse
ways to spend a sleepless night then one orgasm after another, he decided, even if doing it
with a plant was a bit new.

But after that 'milking', it seemed the creature had other ideas, for the vine withdrew.

"Wait, what? I wasn't done."

No, he was a Contractor. He had at least a dozen more climaxes in him before he was spent,
if he wanted to.

But the plant-girl smiled again, then stepped in and opened her mouth wide.

Oh, fuck... that's weird, but... different. Her tongue is like felt, and so fucking soft... cold
blowjobs are weird, but damn. That feels pretty good. No gag reflex either, just like Luna...

The green girl sucked and bobbed on Harry's long shaft for several minutes, and he let
another two rounds of white 'milk' feed her directly before the girl pulled away once more,
now grinning widely even while the inside of her 'mouth', or whatever it really was, was
flooded with his seed, just as thick and virile as ever. Good. You milk good. Strong. Grow
strong, grow fast, small time grow. More. More seed-milk. Seeds and sprouts.

Harry groaned as he realized what she wanted, but it was strangely hot, and he was bound,
so... "Eh, whatever, just fuck me," he grunted.

The plant girl grinned back at him, then lifted into the air and settled against his chest. She
kissed him again, but didn't let a single drop of his own semen leave her mouth, for which he
was a bit grateful, then lowered her humanoid body onto his dick.

Like her mouth, the girl's nether hole was definitely not human. It was even alien, he decided,
but definitely pleasurable. The same milky yellow cream seemed to emanate from it,
providing a tingling, hyper-sensitivity to Harry's cock as she raised and lowered, much as the
vines had done with Luna before her. Harry let her ride, and ride, until he was nearly there,
and as he peaked, he reached out, yanking free of one vine and pulling the other with him, as
he smashed the plant-girl to his body and started thrusting on his own.

Rough, hard, fast. He was done being passive.

This creature was delicious, tantalizing, a skilled lover, but he was in charge here, and it was
time to show it.

She was two thirds of his mass at best, so even attached to the vine, Harry bore her to the
ground with his own weight, and pulled her strangely flexible legs up past her head, folding
the girl in half with her pussy aimed upward at his cock. It, she, received him without
question or pause. More, yes, more milk, good, good, she sent his way as he moved. Faster,
harder.

Beside him a few feet away, Luna was dropped unceremoniously to the ground, where she
fell on her back, panting, gasping, and coughing.
He didn't know how long had passed, or how she was still conscious, but the plants must
have been letting her breathe still, somehow.

Harry erupted, feeding the plant with the largest load he'd given her yet. More. Faster.
Harder. More milk for you, my little flower-girl!

She sent back just one concept, one thought: Good.

More pleasure for them both.

And he knew, somehow, probably because of the Succubus-like senses he was developing,
that the humanoid part of the strange amalgam creature was indeed feeling the heights of
pleasure, even if she couldn't emote it as a human would.

Pressure built in him, but he kept a tight lid on it for now. He needed more semen, but it took
time for even him to produce a huge load.

More, higher, hotter, he rampaged and ravaged against the tight, cream-filled cunt while Luna
caught her breath nearby.

"Harry? What did you do to Alra...? Why is she a... oh. Oh. That makes sense, I suppose..."

Harry barely heard the witch.

It was almost time, the pressure was boiling over, about to explode.

And she was so ready for it.

There, finally, at least! The wave of pressure and pleasure that told Harry he was cumming!
He let go, released, and the volumes within him, within his genitals, burst forward and out,
smashing into the tiny little creature's waiting receptacle so quickly that she lurched half-off
his cock with the force of it. But both he and the vine at her back caught the girl, even as a
huge bulge, larger than any five of the plant's that it had given Luna, began to build and build
beneath her just past the joint, until the body was lifted into the air, splayed and arched
backward around the basketball-sized lump. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry felt his long,
powerful climax reside, and he pulled free slowly. Despite being just four and a half or so feet
tall, she had taken all twelve inches of him directly inside her without question, something
only Lilith could do. But she's not human, either.

And the load...

After several seconds to recover, the plant girl's features grew just a little more defined, and
she sent a few more concepts as the humanoid form, swollen in the belly as if she were
pregnant, struggled to its feet. The vine, it seemed, was too heavy to lift with his semen in it.
Harry grinned, inordinately proud of himself.

Luna and he both watched as the little plant-girl blew him a kiss, then Luna, as the images
came and went, apparently to both of them.
Much good, much pleasure, much milking. Many sprouts in many seasons. Rest. More milk
after a long season.

"Yes, Alra," Luna whispered, sounding quite worn out. She was on her knees, Harry realized,
and dripping with half-melted snow on her back. She was shivering, too.

I can do something about that. Harry didn't wait for the vines to finish withdrawing, but
hurried back to their clothes, grabbed his wand, and quickly cast two warming charms and
levitated Luna's clothes to her before he dressed. His cock ached with the action it had gotten,
but it was a good kind of pain, and he hissed with pleasure after forcing it to shrink enough to
fit in his pants.

Luna was still shaking, but less from cold and more from exhaustion as he rejoined her. The
petals were now half-closed, Alra- or whatever her name was- crouching down in the center
as she had been before. She was still watching him, Harry felt, even as the velvety petals
blocked her from sight, and eventually the leaves covered those, too. The vines were already
gone, buried in the earth for all he knew. Only their tracks and the drippings of the copious
yellow cream remained to show their presence.

"We, uh, should probably get back."

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Harry. I've never satisfied Alra that quickly on my own. You must have
been delicious."

"Er, thanks," he murmured, another wash of pride swelling in him. "I'm glad I could help her.
She was, um... something else."

"Yes. I've never seen her humanoid body before, she only used the vines for me. But she is an
excellent lover, isn't she?"

"Sure is. Um... what is she?"

Luna turned and started walking back, following their tracks through the darkness of the
forest. Harry turned with her, glad once again for at least the sight of the girl's hips and bum
swaying to keep him satisfied (as if he ever truly was, though this night had brought him
pretty close) on the long walk back. "I am fairly sure she qualifies as an Alraune. A creature
of primarily oriental origin, something akin to a Dryad. They are magical spirits of nature,
but usually inhabit plants like flowers or bushes, instead of trees."

"Ah. That, well, it makes sense I suppose. Have you actually researched it?"

"Of course, Harry. I always research the strange creatures I come across. Why wouldn't I?
What kind of magizooligist would I be if I didn't?"

"I... I don't know. Is... is that what you want to be? When you leave Hogwarts, I mean?"

"Among other things, yes. And a mother. I would very much like that, I think. I miss mine
terribly, you see. Her name was Celeste."
"Oh. I-" Harry didn't know what to say. She had told him her mother had died when she was
nine last year, but he still wasn't sure... "Well, I... I mean, what can you- if you want to, and
are comfortable with it- what can you tell me about her?"

"A lot, I think. She was my mother after all, even if I was young when she died. But another
time, Harry. I am quite tired. Alra- she has asked me to call her that, I think- can speak in my
mind. It was concepts and images at first, but the more she used me and I her, the stronger it
became. Now it is almost words in full. She thinks she is an Alraune as well, but has never
met another."

"I... see. What was that about, um... sprouts?"

"All creatures of the Earth, plant, animal, spirit, or otherwise, want to propagate, Harry.
Thank you for helping her with that. I feel you will be an excellent father."

"Er... um... to- to a plant?"

"Probably to many of them. I believe Alraune seed as many as a thousand pods per year. If
each were to grow to adolescence, that would be many children indeed."

Harry paled, and felt himself sway on the narrow, twisted animal path.

"But don't worry. I think I read that only one or two survive each year. Predators, you know.
Their seeds are said to be quite nutritious, and in Japan they actually farm some of them as an
aphrodisiac. I've heard it is quite effective."

"I- I suppose it would be, if it's anything like Alra's... stuff. The cream she was shooting out."

"Yes, that is rather delicious, and so fun! I love it in me. I don't have to eat for a few meals
every time I go out, did you know? Unfortunately my other lovers will have to wait. I'm quite
exhausted, you see, and I'm afraid one of them would fuck me unconscious. I hope you don't
mind."

"N- No. That's alright. It's late, and you're probably cold."

"Yes, that too."

Not much else was said as they returned to the castle, past the too-clean spot on the stairs,
and inside. They separated on the fourth floor, she to the Ravenclaw tower, and he to
Gryffindor. Once he reached his bed, more sated sexually than he had been since their last
full-on orgy for a Rune set, Harry fell asleep both quickly and deeply.
 A Little Learning

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Chap. 71: A Little Learning

Harry exhaled in relaxation as he sank into the hot waters of the Prefect's pool-sized bathtub.
“Stamina Runes are amazing,” he murmured into the quiet. A casual onlooker might have
thought he was talking to himself, but Harry knew full well that his Succubus was nearby,
examining the painting of a mermaid that had flirted with Harry from his first visit to the
room in his fourth-yearth year.

Lilith, in her original petite form for once, glanced over her shoulder at him with a grin,
“Feeling the pain already Master? I'd have thought you would enjoy a little tentacle action.”

Harry snorted in amusement, shaking his head. “Leave it to you to know what I was thinking.
But I think Luna would enjoy it more than me. Iris might be up for it again sometime,
though.”

“That girl is something else,” Lilith chuckled, “And to be honest, I'm not sure what to make
of her. She seems normal enough physically, but there's definitely something... otherworldly
about her. She loves her sex, though, and the harder the better. She's almost like me in that
way, only... more raunchy? As if her taste were...”

Harry didn't bother fighting his eyes drifting shut. He was already missing breakfast to be
here, but he didn't really care. If he was hungry, he could always go down on one of his girls
for a fast meal. Surprisingly, aside from the constant low-level lust he always felt, the young
wizard wasn't even particularly turned on, despite having Lilith's adorable, nubile body bare
for his enjoyment as usual. He cracked one eye when Lilith gasped though, in time to see her
shake her head. “No... no, that's ridiculous. The odds are astronomical. It just... no.”

Harry let her continue arguing with herself against whatever thought had popped into her
head for several seconds before he intervened, “What's impossibly unlikely?”

Lilith huffed uncharacteristically, in a way that reminded him strongly of Hermione, then
turned to face her summoner, “The Childe of the Moon. I just had the crazy thought that she
might be, you know, a half. But there's no way. It would explain her eagerness, but plenty of
girls are eager to experience pleasure in whatever way they can, and like it rough. Your third
pet, Lavender, is one of those. Girls who're into... well, less humanoid forms of interaction,
like Luna, are less common but they are out there. It's silly, just forget I said anything.”
Something about the creature's tone told Harry there was more going on here than what Lilith
had said, however. So he stretched his arms out over the side of the tub, covered in soapy
bubbles, and stretched beneath the water as he considered. “Okay, but... half what?”

“Half... well, we've talked about the possibility of having a child together, but we haven't
delved much into the specifics. For the most part, a Contractor, or any human or humanoid,
or whatever else, can put their species' seed inside my kind as much as you want, and nothing
will ever come of it. It's not even how you can choose to make yourself infertile. We are, by
default, unable to have children in the way most creatures breed. We're... more asexual in that
way. I believe the closest equivalent on your world would be a creature that buds, like certain
single-celled organisms. We do need another creature's seed, but there's more to it. No one in
our world really even knows how it happens, but every few centuries, maybe a thousand
years or so, one of us will get lucky... and come back with a child, or our equivalent of
pregnant. It's said there are rituals... ways to make it happen, but I wouldn't know what they
are. It tends to happen with those who have had their Contracts for a considerable length of
time. Another possible factor is the Succubus and Contractor being fairly powerful, but again,
this is all hearsay and rumor. No one really knows, or if they do, they aren't sharing.”

Harry frowned, “But isn't your world like, your people's entire population, really tiny
compared to ours? Wouldn't it be better if you had more children?”

“Our world is finite,” Lilith reminded him quietly as she dropped to sit next to Harry's left
hand, her legs dangling in the soapy water, “so we can't support a large population even if we
had one. There's more than seven billion- close to a half more- on your single planet, but this
is just one planet in a very large universe. Our entire plane of existence is smaller than your
continent, remember? There's thousands of creatures, thousands of my kind alone, and only
so much space to go around. That's why your material, what we bring back to our world, is so
valuable. Some of it we use with our magic to expand our realm, and some we use to build
things. Some is used for reproduction in our own way, which takes vast amounts of resources
if it doesn't happen while on Contract. We just can't afford to have tons of children, so it's a
good thing in a way that we don't.”

“Okay,” Harry acknowledged with a slight frown, “I get that I suppose. We both know I'm
not ready to start knocking up women left and right, even if I do want to somehow carry on
the Potter family after I'm gone, but what's that got to do with Luna?”

Lilith sighed again, “Well, she's... The child of a human Contractor and a Succubus is a
Succubus. Always. There's a few recorded instances of half-breed Succubi, but it's pretty
rare, and none of them- none- are from human Contractors. Not in any reality we can access.”

Something about the words she used made Harry pause, but he was quickly brought back to
the main question by his own curiosity, “Wait, none? What species can have half- breeds,
then?”

This time, the Succubus shrugged her narrow shoulders, “Generally creatures with more
innate magic, where almost every member of the species is magical, for example. They also
have to be sentient enough to form a Contract, and to Summon one of us in the first place.
Then the usual rules apply. Rarity first of all, with power and the age of the Contract being
factors in whether they can breed at all, if the Contractor and Succubus both agree to.”
“Examples?”

“Some dragons. Not the ones from your world, but in other realities they can be quite
intelligent. Fey creatures, some Elementals. Things like that.”

Harry let out a low whistle as that niggling thought came back to brush against his
subconscious, and this time he latched on despite the distraction of imagining Lilith or
someone like her fucking a dragon flittered past his mind's eye. “Other realities, you said that
before. What did you mean?”

Before she answered, Lilith sent Harry a gimlet eye, and asked, “Are you ordering me to tell
you, Master? Because knowledge of certain subjects along these lines has been known to
drive people mad. I don't really think it would, for you, but... it's dangerous. I'd ask you to at
least keep it to yourself.”

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded, “I'd like to know, but it's not an ord-”

He was interrupted by Lilith's little hand covering his mouth, “If it's not an order then I can't
tell you. Rules. But I can bend them for an order. So if you want to know, tell me.”

Harry nodded, and the hand slowly withdrew. Again, she looked at him with a measuring
gaze, and seemed satisfied with whatever it was she saw. Still, she waited until he nodded and
said, “I’m ordering you to tell me, then.”

Lilith scooped up a handful of the suds and then began sketching on the stone between them,
starting with a circle, and a circle around it, and a third around that, before drawing several
lines between each like spokes. “Reality- or what you and I currently perceive as reality- is
what the theorists among my kind and several learned scholars across multiple universes call
the Material Plane, or Prime Plane. This is Prime.”

Harry nodded at her gesture around the castle, and then the tap of her dainty finger into the
center circle. She moved to the middle one next, “My world. We imagine it as something of a
border world between this plane and another, higher one. It can be accessed by both sides,
and the lines between are that access point.”

“Like... portals? Gates? We could physically go back and forth...?”

Lilith shook her head, “No... like you and me. This line right here could be us.”

With a confused blink, Harry stared at the wet line. “Huh?”

“A Contract is the access point. One side is created when a Summoner- you- brings one of us
here. That's half the line. The other is formed when we Contract, which is initiated by us and
accepted by you. Our Contract is what keeps us here, forming the bridge. Without both of
those things, the bridge would only go part of the way or be unstable and collapse.”

Understanding a bit more, Harry nodded. This was fascinating to him. He had never
considered in any depth a greater cosmology beyond what people called Heaven, Hell, and
Earth, aside from a vague understanding that Lilith came from somewhere 'else', outside of
that. Not from Hell as many Christians would believe. “So what's the outer layer?”

“I don't really know. This is a side-note for us in our education as potential Contractees, it's
barely mentioned because it usually isn't important, and too much knowledge can be risky for
those we Contract with. A loose equivalent would be... your after-life, perhaps, or wherever
souls either start from or end. Maybe both. I hardly made a study of it though. Remember I'm
fairly young for my kind, and just barely finished my education when I was Summoned.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, “So you can form bridges that way, too?”

Lilith smiled, “Sure can. I haven't, obviously, since you were my first Summoner, but it is
possible. Not from here though. For one thing, we can't form another Contract while under
Contract to begin with - the first one takes precedence, always - but we also can't reach that
plane, or those planes, or whatever it is, from here directly. That's why we started calling our
world a border plane, as I understand it. It's a bridge of sorts itself. It's also not the only one.”

“Ah. That makes sense, or maybe an island in a wide river that takes two bridges to fully
cross,” Harry murmured, though this time he wasn't sure he got it. “Again though, what does
that really have to do with Luna? Not that this isn't interesting, because it is.”

“Well, again as I said, she acts, in some ways, like one of us. Has similar abilities, and
proclivities even. But she's human, as far as I can tell. I can ingest her fluids, and they're
nearly as potent as yours. I mean, I can eat them, and they benefit me in the same way you
can get sustenance from her. Which is an anomaly itself, nothing, should be even close to as
good for me as yours is. We’ve established that your fluids give me the most sustenance, and
mine should for you as well. So I just had the thought that she might be half-Succubus, but it
doesn't add up. She'd be a full Succubus, not mostly human, if her mother was a Succubus.
Or her father, if that's the way it went.”

Harry nodded once more, this time keeping his thoughts to himself for a few seconds while
he considered what he had learned. The thought of Luna being a part-Succubus was strange,
but something about it just, rang as true to Harry, though he couldn't put his finger on why.

“Okay,” he set that matter aside for a bit as he ran into one dead-end after another in trying to
figure it out, “so we're back to 'other realities'. Is that talking about this afterlife, or
whatever?”

To his surprise, Lilith shook her head, “Not quite, no. Thanks to the limitations of soap
bubbles on stone, I can't make a better representation. But imagine this outer ring is instead a
hollow cylinder, stretching up and out- and down- forever. Infinitely huge, but one 'space'
filed with all the versions of afterlife that have ever been contemplated to exist, and
everything that hasn't, too.”

“Right,” Harry muttered, not entirely sure he could even try to grasp that much less wrap his
head around it completely.

With a careful look, Lilith reminded him, “This is why people go mad trying to figure it out.
Don't think too much about it until you've gotten comfortable with the idea, and even then be
cautious of pushing too far. Some things, mortal beings, Succubi included, are just not meant
to know. Our world, my people's, is closer to a line in this scenario, barely any depth or
thickness to it at all, and is better understood as a speck of dirt in the vastness of space- but it
is also on the layer between the upper planes and this plane.”

“Okay...”

“But this plane, this Prime, this Material world, the observable universe? My people and
many others understand it to be one of an infinite number. And by 'understand it to be that
way', I mean that, as hard as it is to believe, we have empirical evidence. We study Earth, for
example, because it has a high number of Contractors- but there are so many Earths we
couldn't number them if we tried. By 'other realities', I am referring to other Prime universes.
Some have Earths much like this one, with only tiny variations. Some have huge differences,
like dinosaurs gaining sentience and becoming the dominant species. Some are filled with
plant-life. Some are ruled by dragons. Some don't have an Earth at all, and in some even your
entire galaxy never existed. When I say infinite, I mean it. All variations exist, and each
individual reality is incomprehensibly vast, and possibly infinite within itself.”

Harry nearly slipped under the water as the weight of what Lilith was telling him settled into
his psyche. An infinite number of realities, each infinitely or at least immeasurably large,
boggled his ability to even vaguely conceptualize. He doubted even Hermione could do more
than gape at the idea, though he didn't want to tell her. She, of all people he knew, would
likely be driven to insanity trying to understand it, though he was equally sure she would get
closer than most. “That... that's... a lot.”

“It is,” Lilith nodded with a soft smile, “but again remember that the vast majority of our
Contractors are from realities similar to this one. There is a world where you never found that
book, and one where you Summoned a different Succubus, and one where you died trying,
and so on.”

“I think I prefer this one,” he murmured, leaning over her slowly-drying sketch to peck the
Succubus on her soft, pink lips.

“Me too,” Lilith giggled, then swiped a wave of water over the stone, erasing the entire
drawing at once. “Now back to what I was saying before we went off on this little tangent. I
suppose yes, there is a way to force a child and have it be human. Contracts would do it, but
the Succubus would have to be specifically Summoned and Contracted for that exact purpose.
Like, if Mr. Lovegood, whatever his name is, had bound her mother specifically with the
purpose of bearing him a mostly-human or entirely-human child and then to have them raise
her to adulthood together, for example. But that's just a theory. I haven't any idea if it would
work, but our Contracts are very powerful. Short of that, I can't imagine any other way that
she could be part-Succubus and be so entirely human.”

“Interesting thought experiment,” Harry decided, borrowing a term he had learned from
Hermione, “but ultimately a futile effort to figure out?”

Lilith nodded. “Far easier, if you want the actual story, for us to investigate her father and just
ask him, preferably when he's thoroughly under my sway. Presuming he isn't an Incubus,
anyway.”
“Right, presuming. Haah... She's definitely a strange girl, but one of my favorites anyway.”

“Mine, too,” Lilith sighed as she slid into the water and climbed up onto Harry's lap to grind
herself against his cock, which began to harden quickly despite his earlier satisfaction, “and I
only had to feed her kinky dreams for more than a year before she gave in and brought you
out to meet one of her friends.”

As he slipped into her familiar, tight, and warm depths beneath the water, Harry sighed in
contentment and pulled Lilith close, happy to let her do the work. Stamina Runes or not, he
was still rather worn out from the efforts the Alraune had coaxed from him, and Luna before
that, over the last twenty four hours.

And he had classes in an hour or so. Damn it. At least he wasn't actually tired...

After classes that day, Harry, fully awake but still tired, was making his way to the library in
search of a few books for homework, when he noticed something peculiar happening in the
halls. Ever since he had first Summoned Lilith, he had noticed a general degradation (at least
as far as his aunt and uncle would call it) of the school's morals. It had been very slow at first,
perhaps held back by Dolores Umbridge's ridiculous Ministry Decrees. While she had been
acting as Headmaster, students even holding hands in public spaces like the halls and
corridors, was grounds for expulsion. Never mind that some students of Hogwarts were
adults in the wizarding world, they simply were not allowed to fraternize at all, no
exceptions.

Of course, that had stopped exactly no one. What that decree had done was teach four
hundred or more students to seek out every nook and cranny of the school for the least bit of
privacy they could find. A year later, many of those students were still together. Many more
had found other partners to mingle with, teaching more students more places to engage each
other in the delights of hormonal satisfaction.

Add to that year of being extremely secretive with any sort of public displays, a confrontation
where several students, his classmate's peers, had died along with parents or other family
members in some cases. Follow that with a summer of freedom, except that the Dark Lord
known as Voldemort had been seen publicly by dozens, hundreds of people. The Ministry
could not hide his return any longer. Then the students had returned to a school very different
than when they had left it. Not only was Umbridge gone, but Dumbledore seemed to have
more direct control over the school than ever before. Harry didn't think that was a bad thing.
While he knew the old wizard had made mistakes, not least of which was leaving him with
the Dursleys for years, he believed very much that Dumbledore truly did have his, the
students, and the world's, best interests at heart. Then there was Lilith, and her influence over
the school.

That, combined with the previous mix, made a melange of passion and desire that had
quickly boiled over in the first half of the year. That had made it possible for Harry to fuck
Ginny openly in the common room of Gryffindor Tower, giving a display to everyone down
there (and not a few who had come in during the show) who had been in third-year year and
up. The missing girls and the attack at Christmas, when so many students had been going
home to visit family, had devastated the morale of the country for weeks. Now that school
was back in session, without much of anything in the way of adult supervision, the students
were relieving their tensions and anxieties in whatever way they could.

Gobstones, Exploding Snap, Wizard Chess, and Quidditch, were all getting more and more
attention as time went on. But this year, by and large the students were finding it easier to
distract themselves with, well, each other.

Harry had known all of that. What he hadn't noticed before that trip to the library was just
how extreme the behavior had gotten. In moving between the fifth and third floor, just
walking around the tower-like space that made up Hogwarts' central grand staircase, he had
witnessed four pairs of students and a trio of two boys groping one girl, most of which were
happening right there in the hall, and under clothes, as well. One of the girls, a seventh-yearth
year Hufflepuff Harry couldn't name, actually had her robe around her ankles and her shirt
open to let a boy in her year suckle on her tits just down a side corridor.

On the third floor itself, as Harry neared the library, he saw much of the same. Yet here, even
less off the beaten path, given the library's use to students and staff alike, the students were
getting away with more. Terry Boot was snogging Su Li just inside the open doorway of a
disused classroom, one hand down her skirt front, with her pelvis grinding into him, while
she groped the front of his trousers roughly. Beyond that by a few doors, he saw a Slytherin
fourth-year boy sitting on an empty plinth with his pants around his ankles, his dick in the
mouth of a fifth-year girl of the same house. That pair was down a side corridor, but well
within view of anyone walking by.

Just after Harry passed out of their view, shaking his head in surprise, he heard the boy groan
and cry out, “Get ready!”

If people were giving each other hand-jobs and blow-jobs in the corridors now, Harry was a
bit worried about just how much things were changing in the castle. He glanced about, just in
case a teacher was nearby that he could distract while the young couple (or maybe she was
just doing him a favor, he had long suspected Slytherin, at least internally, was very much as
Daphne and Pansy described. Trading sexual favors was a time-honored tradition in their
house, both for fun and as a way to gain influence) cleaned up. Yet he saw none. Even the
portraits, everywhere he looked, were empty of human or human-like subjects, except for a
few of the more perverted paintings that quietly cheered on or ogled the activities of the
students.

That, at least, tracked with the impressions Harry had gotten from the Fat Lady and her friend
Violet on the night of the Yule Ball two years previously. The portraits were not their
subjects, but they carried an imprint of them, much like a ghost, yet both more and less at the
same time. They had much of the same memories and personality, but were not alive, and
could not truly grow, though they could at least gain new memories and act much as a living
creature would. Still, it meant that if the subject of a portrait leaned a little toward lewdness,
their portrait representation would too. If anything, the portraits, being 'dead', had less in the
way of propriety, since they didn't have to think about how they looked to others or society at
large as much.

When he reached the library, it was, if anything, worse. Students were still studying, but,
much like he and his closest friends had done earlier in the year, many now seemed to be
pleasuring either themselves or others while they did it. One group of Hufflepuffs, as he
headed into the stacks, seemed to be led by one of Susan and Hannah's friends, and she was
rewarding whomever got a question right with a few seconds of tongue-wrestling. The stacks
themselves, once the bastion of the quieter, or more studious of the school, were now more
full than ever. The fifth- and seventh-years were still just as madly searching for help with
their heavy workloads as he remembered from last year, but in between finding books many
of them were snogging, and they often had to push other students, doing things even he might
have hesitated to do in public just a few weeks ago, out of the way to get to the books they
were searching for.

Indeed, as he moved in to head toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts section, Harry
watched one seventh-year try to plead with a couple of snogging fourth-yearth years to get
out of the way. When he got a little rough and pulled the younger boy away, the girl huffed,
“Wait your turn, geez, I'll blow you after he's done!”

Harry rolled his eyes. It was honestly getting out of hand, even a bit worrisome. But he wasn't
sure what he could do about it, aside from removing Lilith from the castle, and he wasn't
going to do that while he was here. No, his pet was staying by his side.

Speaking of pets, though...

An image flashed through Harry's mind, and for a moment he wasn't sure if it was his own or
supplied by Lilith. It was of Ginny, Lavender and herself as Lyra, all his pets in their own
way (though he had already decided early on, that, as she preferred, Lavender was a bit more
publicly accessible), walking on hands and knees before him, stark naked aside from one
item each. All three of the girls wore an inscribed collar, and a tag with the girl's initials on
one side, and his own on the other. The inscriptions were simple: “Property of Harry Potter. If
found, shag and return to owner.” Finally, a leash led from each collar to his right hand,
where he walked behind them, the proud owner of three loyal pets, just like he was walking a
trio of dogs. Ginny's collar and leash were crimson red, Lavender's was a deep, almost royal,
purple, while Lyra's, predictably, was the same bubblegum pink as her normal hair.

The image made him smile as he maneuvered his way past another pair of students, this time
a girl with her back against the books and a younger boy on his knees with his head under her
skirt. I've absolutely got to start investing in collars for some of the girls at least.

After taking his time dodging students, including a few girls (and one unfortunate fourth-year
boy who may have been a little drunk) that tried to grope Harry or pull him into a kiss, he had
a couple of books under one arm that mentioned the Flame Extinguishing Charm he was out
to research. That taken care of for the moment, Harry turned to the right and headed into
another section of the shelves, one meant for older students doing a different sort of study.
While it could loosely be considered recreational reading, the small area he was heading for
now was technically within the Restricted section. The only difference being that all
N.E.W.T.-level students could access thanks to an age-line that had, according to Hermione,
been part of the library since it was founded a mere three years after the castle was built.

This particular section had been one that Ron, of all people, had pointed out to him not an
hour ago, having heard stories of it from his older brothers. When Harry had mentioned it to
Hermione in passing, she had lifted an eyebrow and said, "Of course I know it's there, Harry.
Where do you think I got all those trashy pillow bo- umm... never mind. Yes, I know it's
there. It's the Library. I know all about it," and then refused to answer any more of his rather
pointed questions with a red face.

While amusing, Harry knew full well, after having been her lover for a full year now, that
Hermione had just as much of a dirty mind as anyone he knew, with the possible exceptions
of himself, Lyra, and now maybe Luna. Still, he would have to make a point to ask every few
months what kinds of books she had gotten from this section... just to keep her on her toes.

Harry might have otherwise been surprised to see the 'adult reading material' section of the
Library so occupied, but after the displays he had been seeing in the halls for weeks, but only
just today truly noticed, it didn't come as quite the shock it might once have. That Hogwarts
had such a section was the greater surprise. But as Ron had pointed out when Harry had
asked him about it, "You think Mum and Dad haven't read some of the books from there?
Count my family, Harry, go on."

Fair enough, though he really didn't want to think about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that way.

Still, it was a school. Then again, maybe giving the older students an outlet in literature was,
in the Board of Governors' (or at least, the Founders') minds, a safer option than letting them
run rampant, as things were headed these days?

None of that prepared Harry for seeing one pair of Slytherin girls he was acquainted with at
best, perusing through a book together in that section. They were hardly the only ones
present, not even within their house and probably year group. The shelves were largely empty
in this particular section, which suggested to him that Lilith's influence was being felt in more
ways than just heightened promiscuity and daring to have such public displays of not just
affection but intimacy rampant in the halls. The Carrow twins, seventh-yearth years now,
were people he had first been introduced to by Daphne, Pansy, and Tracey when they had met
with the DA after his abduction, and the death of several of their peers, at the end of the
previous year. He'd become a little more acquainted with them through the Slug Club and at
Milly's house, but Harry still couldn't say he knew them well.

With a sly grin, Harry crept up behind them, going so far as to try and quiet his breathing as
he got close enough to read the book the one on the right, Flora he thought, was holding up
for both of them. Sex magic, huh? I suppose that isn't unexpected, but...

"They got that wrong," the sister on the left murmured quietly, "that's supposed to be an
eastern-facing Proxim."

"That's what happens when you steal information," the other twin replied, "you never get the
full picture."

"Too true, sister, too true."

Deciding now was as good a time as any, Harry straightened himself up and put a finger on
his wand, preparing an emergency Shield Charm just in case, and announced his presence
with a loud, "Hem, hem."
While not nearly as good at mimicry as Ginny or Lilith, he was still passable enough to make
both of the twins jump nearly three inches into the air. The left one whirled around, wand in
her hand and already glowing at the tip as it jabbed toward his belly between the girls, while
the right one slammed the book closed and whipped in the same direction, bringing the book
around toward his head.

His shield blistered to life in an instant, reflecting orange, flame-like images in a rippling
pattern outward from where the left twin's wand just missed touching the shield directly. The
right one's book, with more momentum, actually crashed against his barrier, rebounding and
spinning out of her grip to land open, face-down on the ground. No doubt several pages were
damaged or creased, now. "Whoah, whoah, hold on," he chuckled, "it's just me. Remember,
you swore an oath not to attack me?"

For a moment, both identical girls glared at him, so Harry took a step back and raised his
wand, lowering his shield in the process. "Sorry, it was just a... tempting target for a bit of a
prank. Aren't Slytherins supposed to always be watching their backs?"

The one he thought was Hestia's eyes narrowed for a moment before she sniffed and took a
half-step forward. Shit, I never realized how tall these two are. She's as tall as I am!

Maybe even a little more, because as she stepped forward again, the girl seemed to be
looking very much down at him as she hissed, "Self-defense is not an attack on you or yours,
Potter."

Silence reigned over the small area as Harry realized several students from all four Houses
were now watching the scene he had inadvertently created with his would-be prank. How was
he going to get out of this without making the girls lose tons of face? They were already in
trouble with most of Slytherin simply because they were siding with him, even if they weren't
as overt about it as Pansy and Daphne were.

Fortunately, the other twin sniffed haughtily and turned to recover the book. While it did
present Harry with a rather nice view of the young woman's backside through her robes, her
demeanor when she stood and showed him the damage the book had taken put such thoughts
out of his mind completely. "Madame Pince will have your testicles around her neck if she
sees this."

He winced, that was not a pleasant image. "Er, maybe," he conceded, "but you were the one
holding it, not me, so... empty threat."

That made both of the twins glare at him for several tense seconds, but after that, the one on
the left smirked, "He's learning."

Her twin scowled, but nodded, her expression falling into one of careful neutrality as she
spoke, "I suppose. What do you want, Potter, if not just to annoy people who have done
nothing to you?"

"I actually was just coming up to say hello, believe it or not. That is, until I saw what you two
were reading. Know something about it?"
"Magic? Yes," the right girl said with another sniff that exactly copied her twin's.

"Sex magic," he whispered loudly, ensuring that while he was quiet enough no one could
really here, there was an implicit reminder of what section of the library they were in, and
with that a subtle threat that he could speak it louder, too.

Again, both twins narrowed their eyes, and the right one almost smiled again. "Well played,
Potter. Hello. Yes, we do. Our family came up with half the rituals most of the older families
keep themselves going with. Any other pertinent questions?"

Taken aback by the admission and extra information he'd just gotten, Harry took a few
seconds to formulate a response. "As a matter of fact, yes, if you have a few minutes." Then,
leaning in closer, he whispered, "I have a couple names I'd like you to look into."

"Is that so. Very well. Do you have a private place to speak?"

He nodded at Hestia's question, "When you are ready, I'll be in one of the reading rooms in
the library. It shouldn't take long, and isn't something I necessarily need privacy for."

Those words, spoken aloud, would hopefully quell any rumors that might already be
spreading about just what kind of relationship he and the Carrow twins had. Not that it would
do much good these days, he knew rumors were rampant throughout the school that he was to
blame (or credit) for the many changes in the school recently. People would think what they
wanted anyway, but hopefully by not requiring privacy, fewer people would think they were
shagging. Not none, but fewer.

A few minutes later, they slipped in through the doorway of the only reading room that wasn't
already occupied by students who were in various states of undress. He couldn't blame them.
He had shagged Alicia Spinnet several times in this very room shortly before she had died,
and with the stress outside of the school at an all-time high... they needed what relief they
could get. He watched, amused and half-risen from his own seat facing the door when one of
the sisters held out a chair for the other in a clear act of deference. Once both were seated
side-by-side across from him on the small conference table, the one who had sat first asked,
while her twin pulled out a small piece of parchment and a quill, "Names, then? We can't
waste time."

"I have a couple. Start with Isabella Ross, Ravenclaw."

"The missing one?"

Harry nodded, and one sister wrote down the name on her parchment in some cypher he
could not read, at least upside down, even across the narrower side of the table.

"Who else?"

"After her, Theodore Nott. The Notts in general, too. I need to know where he could be
hiding, what he could be doing in the castle. I think he's responsible for the other
disappearances of girls this year."
"But you want more?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah. I need to know... well, anything really, but what I'm most interested in
is what special things he might've learned from his parents or family, or even Voldemort.
Anything that sets him apart from every other student."

Both girls had flinched at the mention of his enemy's name, but nodded too after he finished.
"Any others?"

Harry thought for a few moments, scratching his chin briefly as he did, "Yes, uh... This might
sound a little strange, but I need a bit more information on Luna Lovegood."

At that name-drop, the twins shared a long, careful look with each other before turning back
to him. The note-taker (was that Hestia, or Flora? He still wasn't sure) eventually said, "We'll
do that, but we might require extra compensation. Her family is... different."

"They are," he acknowledged, "but Luna is my friend. I'm trying to... help her with
something."

Even if she didn't know it.

"Is that it, then?"

Harry shrugged as one more name occurred to him, "I have a last one but it's definitely the
lowest priority. Astoria Greengrass. You know about the curse?"

The other sister nodded, "Yes, the Greengrasses have spoken with essentially every old
family over the last several generations in search for a cure."

"Well, we might have a treatment, but I'm not sure it will cure it forever, if the treatment
works at all. She's going to continue this summer, to my understanding. You should, uh, keep
that to yourselves. What I want to know is who put the curse on their family in the first place,
and where that person lived at the time, and where they were living when they died."

Again, the sisters shared a glance, and the one on on his right offered, "You are trying to find
a more permanent solution, hoping for old notes or something?"

He nodded.

"Alright. We will begin immediately. Would you prefer to hear what we have on each of these
names first, or wait for the more detailed report to be written up?"

"Er... what? You just... have a lot of that information?"

Again, the girls did that almost, but not quite creepy glance where they seemed to
communicate entire conversations with a single look. The one on his left, who'd been doing
most of the talking, finally replied, "I have a perfect memory for what I read. Hestia
remembers everything she has ever heard. Between us, we can remember almost everything
we have either read or heard about someone else. For us, composing a dossier is a little
research, but mostly writing down what we already know."
"Scary," Harry frowned, "but I can see how that's useful. Glad you're on our side."

That made the twins both smile genuinely, if faintly, only the second or third time he'd ever
seen them do it. Cute, though, he thought to himself as he glanced between them. "Er, I s'pose
let's hear what you have now."

The one who had been called Hestia (he'd been wrong, it seemed) was the first to speak, and
as she did she steepled her long, thin fingers together before her on the table, "Isabella Ross
was a seventh-year, in our year, but a Ravenclaw. Her family comes from a mix of houses,
traditionally a relatively even mix among all four. Her mother and father were a Ravenclaw
and a Gryffindor, respectively, while her older brother and sister were a Slytherin and a
Hufflepuff. Her grandparents and older generations kept the tradition going with very little
deviation to an extreme. Even then, it was often corrected in a generation or two. They are
also seen as politically neutral. Isabella's grandfather, Malcom Ross Sr., was the inventor of
the modern-day Vanishing Cabinet, which was marketed as a quick escape route during the
Dark Lord's last rise to power."

Harry let out a low whistle, "Well, maybe you won't need to work up her dossier, then. That
kind of answers why Malfoy wanted her, in particular."

The other twin nodded, "Possibly. We will still write up the report, but that is not a well-
hidden piece of trivia. Her older brother may have leaned more toward the Dark Lord's
views, but their family, while politically neutral, were not generally considered anti-muggle
or anti-muggleborn at any stage as a whole. It does seem likely that Malfoy originally took
the girl to help him in repairing the Cabinet he is rumored to have escaped through."

"Not rumored," Harry grumbled, "I watched him go, couldn't hit him with a Stunner in time."

"We see. Well, as we said, we can and will give you more information about her as we can.
For now, her boyfriend was Edgar Wallpole, a Hufflepuff in our year as well. He has, since
her disappearance, taken to intimacy with her best friend, Malina Grouse, in his House."

"Piece of shit," Harry grumbled, but he knew he would easily find physical comfort with one
of his current lover's friends if one of them died, too. He was in a relationship with all of
them at once, though, not seeing a best friend behind a girlfriend's back.

"Just so. This is why we do not date."

"As for Theodore Nott, he is the youngest scion of the family, but has been designated as his
father's main heir, since he is the only male child out of five. His older sisters have been
married off to secure additional funding, favors, and knowledge from around the globe. One
is in Siberia, one in what the muggles call the Dominican Republic, one on the Ivory Coast in
Africa, and one in China."

"Political marriages?"

Both girls nodded.

Harry understood the practice, but still... didn't like it much. "Okay."
"Theodore has always been driven to live up to his family's legacy in several ways. He is
more traditionally Slytherin than, say, Draco Malfoy would ever be considered. Cunning,
intelligent, able to plan and execute at a higher level than Malfoy could or would do, if not
quite as powerful magically. Whatever he is planning, it will likely take us all by surprise
somehow. Family is all that is important to him- his family, in particular. He was raised to
believe the Notts are simply better than anyone else, and that thus he is superior... but that it
is impolitic to express that verbally."

"Unlike Malfoy."

The other sister nodded this time and picked up the explanation, "His family is also rumored
to have engaged in demonology for several generations, though the last recorded 'expert' or
even 'dabbler' in the art was his great-grandfather. It is suspected among many families that
long-forgotten tomes and lore exist hidden somewhere within their ancestral home, and that it
is through dark bargains that they gained their current status and power."

"Demons?" Harry couldn't help but feel a small wave of skepticism. While Lilith certainly fit
the traditional image of a demonic Succubus, he did believe her when she said she wasn't.
Then again, if her explanation of the planes and the way they worked was accurate... could he
truly say that actual demons didn't exist?

I'll have to ask her myself, he decided.

"Rumors," Flora clarified, "nothing concrete. Infernalism- the art of contacting, summoning,
and binding demonic entities for power- is a well-known way of securing said power, but it
always comes at a high price. Always. Thus, not many would choose to do it. The risks are
often too great."

"That makes sense. Alright. Anything else?" It also leant a certain amount of credence, if
others knew of the practice enough to name it, that it was something that actually worked.

"On Nott, no, not yet. He kept to himself while actively attending the school, and largely
stayed out of our internal House politics. Aside from trading a few sexual favors for help
with homework- he was the top male of your year grades-wise in Slytherin- he never really
treated with anyone, despite Malfoy's continued attempts to recruit him into his circle of
sycophants."

Harry snorted, "Probably the smartest thing Malfoy ever tried to do, get someone stronger
and smarter than him to be his friend."

"Draco Malfoy, for what it is worth, is actually quite powerful for a sixteen year old wizard,"
Hestia pointed out, "though that is diminished by his arrogance, which is overpowering. He is
not as powerful as you, but he is quite above average as far as raw potential."

"Really?" Harry couldn't see it, but...

The sisters nodded together, before Hestia continued, "As far as Luna Lovegood, we know
little. Several Ravenclaws have stolen from her over the years, but we understand you have
already had words with their House over the matter. I believe a threat was made to level their
entire Tower if the behavior continued."

Harry only grinned proudly.

"Her father, as you may know, runs The Quibbler periodical, which is primarily a source of
tabloid-esque material. For those in the know, however, it is also a carefully encoded source
of hidden information, such as the type we can provide. At least, on occasion."

Harry blinked. "R- Really?"

"Xenophilius Lovegood, her father, is widely considered a crackpot and lunatic, but we
believe him to be exceedingly intelligent, if possibly a bit insane. There are those in the
Wizarding World, Mr. Potter, that know better than to discount something simply because it
looks strange on the surface. He frequently writes more truth than fiction, if you know how to
read what he puts down.

"His daughter, on the other hand, has more stories about her than fact, as far as we can tell.
There are rumors she is a Seer, able to see and read the future or possibly alternate future
possibilities. Or perhaps she is simply delusional. We are... not sure. Whatever the case, she
is known to speak of fanciful creatures no one else can see or hear."

"Nargles, and the like. I'm familiar."

"That being said, until last year, very few students could see the invisible creatures she
claimed to see pulling the carriages at Hogwarts, either. We, Flora and I, have come to the
conclusion that any judgment of the veracity of her creatures must wait until a more thorough
study is done of the girl in question. We will now do that, at your request.

"It is also known that she leaves the castle at night semi-regularly, and ventures into at least
the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest."

"I know about that," Harry waved them off, blushing a little despite himself, "Don't look too
much into that."

While he had enjoyed his time with Alra the Alraune very much, and knew Luna did too, he
didn't want the creature's existence or what it was doing with them to become public
knowledge, either.

"Very well. Finally, Astoria Greengrass. We have heard, though we have no proof right now,
that the family that Cursed hers was, ironically, the same Nott who first became famed for
Infernalism, one Gandalfus Nott."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "What?"

"Yes, we agree," Hestia said with a scowl of her own, "it is most distasteful. The reason why
he hated the Greengrasses enough to curse their lineage as it is rumored he did is, for the time
being at least, lost to history, but his feelings were well-publicized at the time.
"She is the younger of two daughters, the only children of Cyrus and Ophelia Greengrass,
and we know you are already intimately familiar with her older sister, Daphne."

For some reason, Harry blushed, but didn't deny it.

"Astoria Greengrass had, at one point, a minor crush on one Draco Malfoy. It is rumored that
faded when she became infatuated with a Mr. Harry Potter, instead. She has a few friends in
her year in our House, but no one of consequence, and those largely abandoned her when she
and her family, starting with Daphne, openly sided with you."

"Anything I don't already know?"

"She wants to have sex with you."

Harry sighed, "I knew that, unfortunately. She's too young, and I promised Daphne I
wouldn't."

Both twins lifted a single eyebrow. It was a little disconcerting, seeing two lifted ones frame
two that were not. "And you are keeping your word? Strange. Most wizards we know of your
age and... proclivities would not hesitate to claim the innocence of another girl."

"I do try to be a decent bloke."

"And sometimes you succeed," Hestia nodded placatingly.

Harry flushed again. The Carrow twins' humor was subtle, sarcastic, and more witty than he
would have suspected, but exceptionally dry. Very... British, in other words, and despite his
embarrassment at their words, he found himself smiling too.

"Anything else, Harry?"

Flora addressing him by his name made him blink, but he shook his head, "Er, no, thank you.
That was... a lot, already."

"Our Dossiers will be delivered as we finish them, likely by Elf, to your private quarters. I
expect if they are left too long Pansy or young Astoria might snoop, but they should be safe
there, otherwise. Expect the first in two days, and then every two days beyond that."

"Right. Um, thank you."

As the twins stood, they shared another significant look, then faced him and bowed together,
"You are sworn to protect us, are you not? We are only doing our part to assist our liege-
lord."

"Lieg- what?"

The twins only grinned at him in their creepy way, then turned and left the room in strange
lock-step.

"What... the fuck? Liege-lord? I'm no lord."

Yet they didn't answer, leaving him to question what they were getting at even more as he
slowly forced his mind back to studying.
 Miss-Counting the Runes

First, MY APOLOGIES for missing last week! I was super sick and spaced it until
yesterday... when I figured I may as well just do what's happening. You're getting more. Not
just last week's and today's, but NEXT week's as well! That's right, 72, 73, 74 all at once... so
that as of this week you'll be caught up with FFnet. Which means they're going to weekly
chapters, like you all have had since I started posting regularly again. But I'm not leaving you
out in the cold, since you at least get the bonus chapter and your weekly updates should
continue.

That being said...

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 111 there... in fact I'm about to start the second book in the series,
which begins with what would be this fic's Ch. 112. Am I aiming for 333 (3x3)? No. But it
might hit that anyway. lol

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers or myself, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Chap. 72: Miss-Counting the Runes

On Thursday evening during dinner, Harry sent word through an invisible Ginny and Lyra, to
his closest circle of friends and a few others, to meet him in the quarters for a ritual, but didn't
specify who they would be doing. He had finally recovered from Alra's attention and was
feeling randy again, incredibly so, but Luna was not one of the friends he was bringing this
time. They were well behind, and needed to do some catching up before she was brought
fully into the fold.

Arriving first, he spent a little time chatting with Pansy while he skimmed through the half-
inch-thick sheaf of parchment the Carrows had written up on Isabella Ross, but found little
more of use. All they really had that he could use was an address for her parents, and a
receipt for a month-long anti-conception potion that had worn off, by the looks of it, weeks
ago now. After he finished that, in a fit of compassion, Harry stood up behind the couch and
kneaded Pansy's tense shoulders as best he could while she worked on her Transfiguration
homework.

Hermione was the last one to arrive, and she walked in to see Harry, Pansy, Daphne, Tracey,
Ron, Neville, Ginny, Lyra, and Hannah lounging around the common room, either working
on homework or chatting with each other. Harry had moved on, by then, from Pansy to
Daphne, who had been far more tense than he had expected. She had even resisted his efforts
at first, but given in after about thirty seconds. Now, she was as relaxed as he'd ever seen her,
as if he had shagged her rotten instead of just massaged her shoulders for a few minutes.

"I thought we were working on homework tonight," Hermione muttered loudly as she
glanced around, "not having another orgy."
Harry shrugged, looking up from where he had been staring down Daphne's cleavage (much
to Tracey's quiet amusement), "Most of us are done. Aren't you?"

The dig was not taken well, as she frowned, "Well, yes, of course I am. Don't you want me to
check your work?"

"If you want to. But I figured we were getting behind. Runes are protective too, remember? I
want to bring that fucker down, Hermione, before another girl goes missing. I want everyone
to be able to protect themselves. I know, we're all witches and wizards, and one Succubus,
but I want everyone as protected as they can get. We were supposed to do these rituals
Monday and Tuesday, but I got sidetracked. Everyone else got caught up on homework then.
We're fine to mess up your schedule a day, Hermione."

The oldest human in the room looked around at everyone's eager faces, barely concealing
their growing lust behind good cheer, though Daphne and Tracey, he could see, were still
visibly nervous. They had been told what getting Runes would entail, neither had
experienced it yet. He wasn't going to force them now, either. But this would, at least, be an
opportunity for them to see what it was like, and that it wasn't all bad.

"Fine," Hermione huffed, then moved into the room, dropped her bag, and sat on Ron's lap,
leaning back against him, "Go on, then."

"Excellent. Well, like I said, we're behind on Lilith's Rune-sets. She's got enough energy
stored up to do two in a row now, so we're going to try and do one tonight and one tomorrow.
If you all are up for it. To be clear, that's a lot of sex between now and Saturday morning. If
you aren't up for that, minus classes tomorrow of course, you should bow out now. No one
will think less of you."

He looked around the room, but the results were fairly predictable. Ron, who was as randy as
he'd ever been, and Neville were of course eager to fuck whoever they could, after having
their first Rune-sets for months. Ginny, Hermione, and now Pansy were eager too, the latter
almost quivering with excitement after Harry had started getting her worked up with his
hands an hour ago. She hadn't participated in an orgy since hers, and then Lavender's Runes
were applied, and she was looking forward to being of use again.

Ginny was just as randy as Ron was these days, and always down for a quick (or long) romp.
Hannah, equally horny most of the time, however, lifted a hand, "I, uh, I actually haven't
done my homework for a couple of days. I want to participate, but... I'll be in trouble if I don't
get Sprout's and McGonagall's essays done tonight, since I have their classes tomorrow.
Sorry, everyone."

"It's fine," Harry said, waving off her concern, "School should come first, right, Hermione?"

The look she gave him made everyone laugh, including the bookworm herself. This had the
convenient effect of making it easy for Hannah to give Neville a searing kiss, and whisper
loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear, "Tell me all about it tomorrow night, stud-
I'll be here for that one anyway," before she left.
"Right. So, I know we need to get Ron's, and that's one we should really do tonight, if
possible, as it's what we're most behind on. Daphne, Tracey, if you two want to decide among
yourselves who gets a Rune tomorrow, that'd probably be best. If you decide you want them
at all, anyway. You don't have to, of course."

Both of the more taciturn Slytherins blushed as eyes turned to them. Tracey in particular
seemed to shrink down into her seat next to her girlfriend. But the blonde straightened her
back and met everyone's gaze as evenly as she could. It was a bit impressive, considering
how red she was, "We will consider it, Potter."

Harry nodded, "Well, I invited you two tonight just so you could watch. If you'd like to
participate, no one will object, I don't think, but you don't have to. You also don't have to
watch either if you get uncomfortable, but I figured you'd both like the chance to see what it's
like, maybe it can help you decide."

Ron piped up, "Er, Mate, not wanting to throw a spanner in things, but... how're we gonna
make it work for me? Neville needs his second Runes, too, sooner or later, doesn't he? I don't
really want your stuff on me, though."

Fortunately, Harry had anticipated this question, and as there were only two people- or was it
just one- who didn't already know, he shrugged, "Iris will do that part, not me, but I'll be here
for most of it."

Several strange looks crossed the room, but Ginny looked more excited than anything else,
though Ron was quite relieved as he let out a slow breath, "R- Right. If you're sure, mate,
then that'll, uh, work just fine for me."

Neville looked around, clearly lost, "Who's Iris?"

Harry grinned, "I got a surprise for you, Nev, but first... Daphne, is Astoria occupied?"

She nodded, "She's doing homework, Milly's helping her. She said she would... either be back
late, or spend the night with a friend in the Ravenclaw dorms. She may also simply stay with
Milly, she can keep Astoria safe."

"Alright. Well... shall we head into the dungeon?"

Harry led the way since he was already standing to address the group. So far, everyone except
Tracey had actually seen the room already, but the petite Slytherin didn't so much as raise an
eyebrow as she glanced around dispassionately. If she hadn't been showing signs of arousal,
with the points of her tiny breasts poking into her uniform blouse, or the occasional nibble of
her lower lip, Harry would have thought she was just not interested in the night's planned
activity. It had been pretty off-putting, the first couple of times he'd shagged the small girl,
how little she reacted. Now, he had come to revel in it, and worked hard to coax every little
squeak and hiss of pleasure from her he could when they could find time together.

Even if doing so made Daphne insanely jealous, because Tracey had confessed to Harry that
she had told her girlfriend she honestly had no preference between the two for sex, and
enjoyed being with both of them equally. Harry personally didn't know why his first lover
was so concerned about it. She was the one who had told him first that while she, Daphne,
was a lesbian and only ever wanted to be with him as far as males went, Tracey was bisexual
and did find other men attractive as well.

To date, though, while she had admitted to being with two other male partners, as far as
Harry knew he was the only man to have actually had sex with her, which implied, to him,
that she'd blown both of them... and been markedly unimpressed with their performance.

Maybe tonight will show her that men can last a while, besides just me. And if they don't want
to be with other blokes, that's fine, too. There's always Lilith, Hermione, Ginny, and Pansy.
But we can do the basic Runes with just me, Lilith, and their girlfriend, so it should work out
fine.

"Ron, you alright with going tonight?"

The taller boy hesitated for a moment as he glanced around, visibly nervous. Performance
anxiety, perhaps? He looked a little green, actually...

For the benefit of the two newcomers who hadn't yet seen a ritual in action, he ran through
the process in brief again, then turned back to his best friend, "Alright, mate. You know I - or
Iris - will have to do one part, and Lilith another, but who else do you want to be involved?"

"To clarify," Lyra pointed out, "While the others do not have to necessarily be involved in
pleasing you for the first set of Runes - Master is quite correct that it takes just myself, him,
and one other - for this second set you will need six participants, again counting myself and
Master as two. And as we have seen with others, you will still need to make use of someone's
mouth, their vagina, and their anus."

Daphne too turned a little green, but beside her Pansy shivered in delight as she glanced at
Ron. Harry suppressed a grin as he noticed. Ron must have truly left an impression last time,
if she wants him to bugger her that badly. She's dripping for it, I bet.

Ron looked around, including at the two newcomers, but Daphne shook her head, "No way,
not this time. No offense, Weasley, but... you aren't my type. We're just watching. If we do
anything tonight, it'll be with each other."

The tall boy only shrugged nonchalantly, "None taken, Greengrass. Just- just checking."
After he had looked around the room, though, he shrugged, "I mean, aside from the necessary
and Hermione, I don't- uh, really care all that much, I s'pose. Parkinson, and... Iris, of
course."

His glare told Harry that his and Lyra's cunning plan had been spotted by at least one person,
but he wasn't going to object. Even if it would make things awkward later. There were only
so many girls available tonight (or only so many that had been invited, he knew Lavender at
least would have been delighted to participate, but right now she was keeping some of the
more inquisitive Gryffindors busy at Harry's request, so no one would notice or comment on
the sixth-year boys dorm being completely empty this evening), and that was by design.
Finally Ron came to a decision, "I- I guess it may as well be Iris last. Um... Hermione first?
I'll do the mouth first."

"Yay!"

Those who were familiar with Hermione's tastes chuckled. They, like Harry, knew she loved
giving head, and wanted to always be the one to suck off a guy if possible.

"Then, I think Lyra for the, uh, normal way, and Iris for the- the other thing?"

Harry found himself pinking a little at the thought, but nodded. When Ron had first buggered
Iris, when he had been attached to the X-frame behind the head of the bed, it had been an
eye-opening experience for both of them. Somewhere in Harry's head, despite himself
recoiling from the idea of a man going up there, Iris cheered. With Pansy's help too, he,
Ginny, and Hermione each took one of Ron's arms and legs after he stripped, red-faced, and
attached them to the bed-posts as usual. He was already hard and throbbing, his long, slender
erection pointing up past the headboard of the bed. With a murmur, Harry pulled out his
wand next and conjured another couch, almost identical to other one that was still there
despite having been conjured before Christmas now, "While each of the first three go," he
explained to Daphne and Tracey, "the rest of us can pretty much do whatever. Watch, play
with ourselves, each other. Feel free to enjoy the room and its toys. They all get sterilized by
magic after every use, so that's not something you have to worry about. Or just take a seat
and watch, like I said."

Daphne glanced over at Ron, red-faced as she was, then back at Harry hurriedly, though he
noted with amusement how her blue eyes lingered on his best mate's dick, "A- And what will
the rest of you be doing in the meantime?"

"Well, most've us have got Runes," Ginny said with a grin, "and two our second set. Only
Neville and Ron don't, but Nev has had his first set long enough he can go several rounds
without stopping when he needs to. So while Hermione gets my brother warmed up, I plan to
have Harry stuff my twat with his dick, while Lyra sits on my face. Neville can do what he
wants with Parkinson, I guess. Unless there's some objection?"

Meanwhile, Hermione, glancing herself at the newcomers, stripped down to nothing and then
knee-walked onto the bed on the far side from the first couch, giving the lot of them a show
with her own delicious body before she reached down to gently grip Ron's dick and start
pumping slowly. Harry, though, had other plans, "Actually, I need a word with both of you
and Pansy really quick, separately, but it can wait for now. Nev, you too in fact."

Tracey looked away from where Hermione was giving Ron a hand-job to ensure he was fully
hard, and turned her attention toward Ginny, "I was under the impression your family did
things in a more traditional way, Miss Weasley."

It might've been the first time Neville or Ginny had ever heard the small girl speak, but
Daphne was the one who seemed most surprised by the question. Ginny, in response, only
grinned, "Well, I do like cock, don't get me wrong, but I love eating pussy, too. Why? want to
experiment? See how another girl does it?"
Both of the Slytherins turned bright scarlet, and even Pansy chuckled weakly before
admitting, "She- she is rather good at it."

"Enough teasing," Harry laughed, "leave them alone... for now. Lyra, why don't you sit on
Ginny for now, like she said. Neville, c'mere for just a moment? Just to the far corner."

A few seconds later, he leaned in to whisper, "Look, something relatively new this year, that's
why you haven't heard, we weren't keeping you out of the loop on purpose. There's another
Harry, of sorts. There was a polyjuice mishap, for lack of a better term, and... I'm Iris, too.
Different person, same body. Female, a different mind and personality, but it's still me in lots
of ways. Just a different version of me, like if I'd been born a girl or something. When I give
Ron his stuff for this set of Runes, I'll be a girl. Same with you if you want it. If you don't,
that's fine, you don't ever have to get it. Just telling you now so you aren't surprised later."

The implications of what he had just said took Neville several seconds to process, and he
looked back and forth from Harry to where Hermione was now licking and starting to nibble
on Ron's cap several times before he murmured, "So... you and Ron have already... done it?
Like, as a girl? Not... like two blokes?"

"Nope, not as two blokes," Harry chuckled, "and we never will. It's kind of weird, I'll admit,
because when I'm her it's a different me. Like the bloke-Harry goes to sleep, and the girl
Harry- Iris wakes up. When she's done, she goes to sleep and I wake up. Physically, I'm a
hundred-percent girl when I'm Iris. So, um... well, yeah."

Neville frowned, then shrugged, "Whatever, I guess. I'll see how it goes tonight before I
decide, yeah? And I can always change my mind later if I don't do it tomorrow, right?"

"Sure can. At least, while Lyra's around."

Neville nodded, "Right. Uh... don't take this the wrong way, but I don't really wanna shag
Parkinson. It was alright for her Runes, but... I still remember a lot of the stuff she's said to
me over the years."

"That's fine," Harry told him seriously, "but she really has changed. It's up to you, you know
we'll never force you."

"Right. Uh... so I guess I'll go get Ginny to suck me for now, then."

"Alright, mate. Send over Pansy, would you?"

"Sure."

He was joined by the raven-bobbed haired girl a few seconds later, but unlike Neville, she
was more easily able to keep herself from watching Hermione, now deepthroating Ron
vigorously as she climbed over to present him her twat to eat out by virtue of putting the
action at her back, "Yes, Harry?"

"First, thank you for coming," he told her seriously, and slipped an arm around her waist to
pull the girl into a hug. She was stiff at first, but eventually she relented, and put her own
arms around his waist to return it.

"Thank you. It... it means a lot. To be... included."

"You mean a lot to me," he admitted, "I... More than I ever expected, that's for sure. That's
not why I called you over, though."

"Oh?"

"No... unfortunately, I do have actual business and a request for you tonight."

"Go on."

"Secret, though, alright? At least for now. Seriously, between you, me, and Lyra. No one
else."

Pansy's eyes narrowed fractionally, but she sighed after just a moment and relaxed, "I do trust
you, Harry. Please don't betray that."

"I won't," he laughed, "It's nothing... bad. Just... unusual. See, we have a cunning little plan,
Lyra and I, but we need your help today. You may have noticed there's only so many girls,
right? And two of them aren't going to do anything with Ron, and nor is Neville. Even if Iris
shows up that's not enough. It takes six."

Pansy nodded, "Unless... We- Ginevra?"

Harry grinned, glancing over her shoulder to see the others watching Hermione's
performance raptly, "Exactly. They probably won't shag. But they've spent the summer
pleasuring each other orally, and most of the first half of the year, too. The only favor I need
from you when- if, but probably when- she starts blowing him is to tell us all, out loud, how
hot you find it."

Pansy recoiled, but didn't seem visibly disgusted, only surprised, "I, but- but- I don't think it's
that hot. Isn't it- you know, bad?"

Harry only leaned in to whisper quietly, "Was it bad when your cousin took your virginity?
Or did you enjoy it?"

"That was a cousin," she hissed back, "they are siblings."

"And pure-blood as they come," he returned, "But he's not going to knock her up. The first
set of Runes is good against diseases and things, but the second set makes it so you can't
impregnate or become pregnant unless both partners want that to happen. And that's if they
were going to shag, which I don't think they will."

Pansy looked skeptical, and glanced over her shoulder for a moment, "But... I remember what
it was like when... I got the first set. The second, you said, is... more. Will they be able to
hold back?"
"Ron's tied up," Harry reminded her, "and his first set was relatively calm. Lyra wasn't as
powerful then, or our bond as concrete, but that's why we restrain people now. Ginny's had
her second for almost a full year, she was one of the first to get them. They'll be fine."

"Well... alright. But you'll owe me, Potter."

"I expect nothing less. I'll pay you in climaxes, shall I? Oh, wait- you still owe me about
twenty."

"Screw you, Potter," Pansy giggled, pushing against his chest uselessly, "You'll owe me five
more tonight, at minimum, for outing... my enjoyment of such things. And in front of
Gryffindors and Slytherins both!"

"Well, that I can deliver. Or maybe I'll make Ron pay you- he did enjoy your tight little bum
rather a lot, didn't he?" She stalked away, red-faced, but Harry didn't feel bad. Pansy had
enjoyed being used quite as much as Ron had enjoyed using her while she'd been in the
pillory, he knew.

Ron was unleashing his first load of the night into Hermione's eager mouth when he came
back around the couch, and Lyra, already one orgasm in by the look of Ginny's wet face,
hopped off the younger girl to raise a hand and siphon the liquid out of the bushy-haired
witch's mouth. Hermione pouted when it was gone, but Lyra only leaned in to nibble on her
lip, "Sorry, beautiful, but we need this for your boy-toy, remember?"

With practiced ease, Lyra switched her form, the first time she'd done so in front of Daphne
and Tracey, into the taller, buxom but pink-haired body Ron found most alluring on her, then
climbed the rest of the way onto the bed and lowered herself sideways onto his shaft, "Ah...
you're so deep, Ron," the Succubus sighed, and started riding him even while a hand kept an
inch-diameter globe of swirling, pearlescent white hovering in front of her with a hand.

To his left, Neville was pulling Ginny onto his lap, with Pansy sitting next to them. With a
wink in his direction, Hermione came around the bed to sit, not with him and their closest
friends, but with Tracey and Daphne instead. He listened with half an ear as she started up a
quiet conversation about technique, swapping things she'd learned about getting a girl off
from Ginny and Lilith for... well, the chance to explain how to best suck a dick. While
Daphne appeared a little annoyed by that part, Tracey listened raptly, and both were happy to
share with the girl he'd loved the longest.

On the bed, Ron was already red-faced, probably nearing orgasm again, even though it had
just been a minute or so since Lilith sat on him, thanks to her amazing technique. She would
be freed up for Iris to take over soon enough, so he could wait. In the meantime, he slowly
began undressing. He was fine being naked in front of everyone in the room now, so didn't
see the point in waiting. Neville was the only one he'd never been intimate with, and after the
next day, it was likely even that would be changed thanks to Iris.

Still, the moment the last of his clothes hit the floor, with everyone else's, eyes locked onto
him, Harry began to change.
By the time Iris was in control again, Lilith was slowly edging her way off of Ron, and
another silvery line of white spiraled out of her pussy upward, coiling and twisting through
the air to join the earlier load.

"G- Gimme a second," Ron gasped, staring hungrily at Lilith's profile and Iris' front as she
turned toward him, "I- just need a minute. That was... fast. Really fast."

"That's because I'm still the best," Lilith giggled, then leaned down to kiss Iris' lips briefly,
"Have fun, Mistress. Whenever you want. He's just complaining because his balls ache, but
he'll be fine tomorrow after the Runes kick in."

Iris, though, was more patient than Harry, if not by much. So she turned away and walked
toward Pansy. There, she spread her legs and put her hands on her little, dainty hips, giving
the taller girl the chance to stare for several seconds, before turning around and showing her
backside. Then, in front of Daphne and Tracey, who'd already seen her this way, "Still not
going to participate? That's fine, just reminding you what you're missing if you stick to
yourselves tonight."

Only then, after taunting everyone, and getting Neville envious he didn't get his own show,
despite impaling Ginny with his fat dick, did Iris climb onto the bed herself and lower her
pussy toward Ron's mouth, rather than what he had expected.

"Sorry, Ron," she teased, "I don't think I can cum just from my ass... you'll have to warm me
up."

"Oh, no," he moaned, "not that."

He, of course, went about the task with gusto, and soon Iris was shivering as she gushed over
his face. He wasn't quite as good as Ginny, but Ron had been practicing for a while, and
gotten pretty damned good at it.

Now, lubed up with her own juices, Iris lowered her mouth to his dick and spat on it a few
times, then raised up and, facing Ron to give the girls a bit more of a direct show, reached
back to angle Ron toward her rectum.

Inch by inch he vanished inside, and Iris sighed at the pleasant fullness. Not enough to hurt
by width, but he was so very deep inside her belly! After letting herself adjust for a few
seconds, Iris started moving slowly, gently riding Ron. They had all night, there was no need
to rush, despite Lyra's and even Hermione's hurried jobs earlier. Harry could have his fun
with the girls all night, but for now, she wanted hers, and she wanted to enjoy it.

To Iris' right, Neville was now making Ginny bounce up and down while both faced her, and
Pansy was touching herself through her panties, her skirt hiked up around her with one leg on
the couch. Over her shoulder, the girl could see Hermione, now with one hand on her breasts
and one between her legs, masturbating for the viewing pleasure of the two newcomers.
Daphne and Tracey were still fully clothed, but the smaller girl's hand was down through
Daphne's collar, clearly massaging one of the tits beneath the shirt as she knelt behind the
blonde.
Much like in the halls, public displays of sexuality were becoming more easily accepted here,
too.

All too soon, though her pace was leisurely and sedate, Iris felt a certain coiling heat build
between and above her legs, even though he was definitely in her ass, "Going to cum soon,
Ron," she said as she leaned down over him, dragging her tight nipples across his chest for a
little more pleasure, "You can cum when you want to. Again, and again."

She tried to keep it going slowly, but as soon as she finished talking, Ron, bound but still able
to thrust, had her bouncing and almost coming off his long rod with every bucking thrust of
his hips. Iris cried out, almost losing her balance, and landed face-down, ass-up on Ron's thin
but well-muscled chest. Reflex alone kept her from slipping off of him as Iris caught herself
with her hands framing Ron's head. That, in turn, left her in place for his cock to hammer into
her again and again, madly, forceful, as all pretense of taking his time vanished, "Cum on my
dick, Iris," Ron growled in her ear, "Cum on my dick from your ass!"

"Y- Yes, yes, yesyesyes, yeesssss!"

Mid-cry, she orgasmed, and another followed moments after the first as Ron did too. His
long-established first set of Runes had him pumping again, again, and again some more into
her belly, until she felt distended and bloated from it, after perhaps thirty or more long,
powerful shots.

Then, slowly, he lowered himself and her back to the bed, and she weakly climbed forward
and off of him, her anus clenched tight. His cum was a precious gift, she didn't want to lose
it!

Only, no matter how tightly she held, some of it started leaking out... and then more, and
more. Soon, she felt empty and hollow again, and when she turned, there was Lilith, still in
Ron's bustier preferred form, holding what was now a foot-thick sphere in the air, "He gave
you a lot, Mistress," Lilith cooed with a giggle.

Iris panted, gasping for breath she didn't know she had been lacking, and joined the others in
watching as Lyra climbed up between Ron's legs and started drawing. A few seconds later, as
they realized their seats weren't the best for this, Tracey and Daphne stood to get a better
view.

Iris did not notice that she went back to sleep, nor did Harry truly realize he had come back,
but a few minutes later, he, not she, realized he could at least partially understand the Runes
being drawn, one layer after another, over and over again onto Ron's skin just above where
her other hand held his cock out of the way, still raging-hard.

A trio of them in a reverse triangle, two at the top and one at the bottom in the hollow formed
by the tendons that kept his dick upright. The left was Power, the right, Wisdom, and the
bottom, Tenacity.

Concepts, words, ideas, Runes.

Together, they could mean a number of things, he now understood, based on their orientation
and how they were read. That they were placed on or at the genitals suggested that they, the
core Runes of the array (and layered over his first set, Harry also remembered), would first
improve Ron's sexuality before any other factor. How they would do so, he wasn't sure, yet.

Soon, though, he was randy again, and turned away from the Runes Lyra was drawing, even
while Pansy climbed atop Ron once there was room to give him her ass, as well, in another
gentle, slow ride.

Now, Hermione was sucking on Neville, while Ginny played with her tits, and opened her
legs for Harry. With a grin toward Tracey and Daphne, he stepped toward his pet, and entered
her in a smooth motion. Ginny gasped and shuddered, convulsing around him before he even
started to move.

Another hour passed in a haze for Harry, as he felt assaulted by rising passion and pleasure
all around him, his friends and lovers' emotions entering and filtering into his being through
his connection with Lilith, which was much stronger now than the last time they'd done one
of these Rune-sets. It was... almost too much, and before he knew it, even while he was
jackhammering into Hermione's pussy and Neville stretched Ginny's bum while Pansy made
out with him, a thing Harry thought he would not see this evening, he found himself crying
for the sheer strength of joy and belonging he felt surrounded by, and from, these people.

It was far, far more than just sex, though that was a part of it too.

He loved them, each and every one, and through Lilith, he knew they loved him too.

This was what he had always wanted.

Family.

"Mother of my children," he whispered.

Below him, naked, sweaty, gasping for breath in the heights of ecstasy, Hermione moaned,
but did not react. He doubted she had even heard him.

On the other couch, Tracey was beneath Daphne now, both girls with their skirts off and
shirts opened, sixty-nining each other, the rest of them temporarily forgotten. They would
have his children, too. It may have started by near-rape, and contract, but it was more now.
Tracey had said it first, given words to what he had only been able to describe as 'home'
before, "He is for me," she had said.

He was. And she was for him.

Even Ron, and Neville, in their own ways. Brothers, and more for the part of him that was
Iris.

Neville may have been stuffing Ginny's cute little bum with his dick, but Hannah would carry
the other man's children. Ginny would only carry Harry's. Maybe, just maybe, if they both
want to, I'll let them have one together, she and Ron, a dark, kinky part of Harry admitted to
himself. If the Runes could protect against disease, maybe they could prevent genetic
abnormalities, too? He'd have to remember to ask Lilith.

Shortly after he gave Hermione another load that made her belly swell before he withdrew
and at least two cups of semen emptied onto the cushions of the couch (and thank the House-
Elves for the cleaning every time it got soiled- they'd been working so hard this year!), Harry
watched as Pansy's face and body seized in clear orgasm, even while she was nearly thrown
from Ron's lurching body as he let another torrent into her intestines.

Once she had clambered off of him to rest, wincing, Lyra had added that load to her supply
and started sketching even more Runes. A thicker set, larger and blockier, up both sides of
Ron's pectoral muscles and onto his shoulders, a mirror of each other. Unity, Tenacity, and
Protection. Guardian? Both, maybe?

Harry wasn't sure, but this was a quad of Runes in a square, not a triangle. So far, vertical line
of Rune-sets up his chest had been the trios of various types. With a grin, Harry pulled
Hermione's head down onto his lap and made her eat her up juices combined with his. It was
a task she took to with relish. Three loads in himself, Neville was otherwise a bystander, but
Harry also knew he had plenty left to give since he'd had his own Runes for several months
now, too. He climbed up behind Hermione and started plowing her still-dripping cunt,
heedless of Harry's seed there, with desperate abandon.

After a few seconds, with obviously false regret tinging her voice, Ginny murmured loudly,
"Oh, Harry, I think you miscounted- there's not enough girls to go around, unless both
Daphne and Tracey want to shag my brother! What are we going to do?"

Even while gagging on his cock, Hermione sent one amused eye up in Harry's direction. He
grinned down at her, then looked up with faked surprise, "Oh, I did? Shite, looks like you're
right, Ginny. I guess we'll have to call it off- you obviously don't want your brother to face-
fuck you. Especially not after he's been in a filthy Slytherin's bum-hole!"

Lilith chimed in, pausing in her sketching, "Oh, did we miscount? Oh, no! What are we going
to do, Master?"

Ginny heaved a great, too-long sigh, "Well, as long as it just stays between us, I guess I can...
just this once."

Not even Daphne and Tracey, who barely knew the younger girl, bought it, Harry was sure.

Because the moment she was done speaking, Ginny threw herself over Ron's legs and started
slurping at his cum-dripping dick much like Hermione had done before she really got going,
"Mm... tastes... pretty... good, big- big brother..."

Ron was able, somehow, to glance between Lilith's legs (and even stop himself from licking
at her folds, in the bargain) long enough to send a worried look toward Pansy and the other
Slytherins.

But Daphne and Tracey were still lost in each other.

Pansy...?

She was shagged-out, Runes or not. Still, she weakly glanced toward Harry, and then moaned
dutifully, "That's so hot."

Her acting was actually better, since she wasn't as in on the joke.

Still, it at least got Ron to relax, and even let himself enjoy it. Not, Harry knew, like he hadn't
been enjoying Ginny's attention for seven months. This time, it was just more open, and in
front of more than just the initial group.

Cries of pleasure, moans of ecstasy and loss of control, filled the room along with the
squishing and slapping of bodies coming together at high speeds, and for several more
minutes, Harry was lost in the pleasure of Hermione's throat and mouth, even jostled back
and forth as she was by Neville's thumping.

The fifth out of the minimum six required, Ron was going to last a little longer. He'd planned
it that way for Ginny's benefit, to reward his kinky little incestuous pet with a longer bit of
fun, and to make sure Ron fully gave himself over to the idea in future. His family, Harry's
future family, was going to be open. If you wanted someone, you could have them (unless
they said no), society be damned. At least, once of an age to know what they were agreeing
to. The part of his soul that was essentially that of a Succubus demanded it, and the rest of
him didn't want to disagree.

Besides, it was fun, doing the taboo, wasn't it? It made it better in so many ways, like Luna
and her plant-girl, it was exotic, special.

And even though Ginny would never be Hermione's equal for loving blowjobs, it was
obvious how much she truly loved her brother in the way she worshiped his man-flesh with
her mouth.

When Ron finally gave her what she was looking for, Ginny was there for him next, joining
Hermione in blowing him, his cock aching as it moved between their eager mouths.

Then Pansy was cleaning Hermione's girl-cum off Neville, and taking him in her stretched-
open mouth too.

Harry let his first two human girls, well, the first two he loved, have another load each, one
after the other, and relaxed back into the couch while they kissed, swapping his cum between
them for a few moments over him, when he felt a strange ping on his consciousness.

Strange, but one he knew well- just not as intimately as he was experiencing it now.

Master, I think we may have made an error. Even with your other Pet, we're still short one.

Harry only grinned and sat up, "Excuse me, ladies," then stepped over the kneeling red-head
and over to the other couch.

Both of them were on their sides now, Daphne the big spoon with her hands around Tracey's
petite little breaths, and both were still breathing heavily, red-faced and -necked, with mussed
hair and clothes, though most of them were bare now, "Sorry, girls, I miscounted- I do need
one more girl for Ron. Volunteers? Honest mistake, I swear."

It was, even.

"Potter," Daphne growled.

Before she could get further, though, Tracey had pulled herself free and said softly, "I'll give
him my mouth. My pussy is for you two. But I don't mind sharing that."

Harry, starting to get a little tired as it had been over two hours since they started, sat down
next to Daphne and pulled her head into his lap, "I'm not- not sucking you in front of the
others," she hissed quietly, glaring up at him.

"Not asking you to, sweetie," he murmured back, "I was honestly just going to rub your scalp
a little... like... this."

She was stiff at first as he ran his fingers through her hair, but by the sixth and seventh pass,
Daphne had relaxed completely. She seemed lost, in fact, in watching her girlfriend give a
relative stranger a blowjob. It wasn't the first time. She had done it with Harry too, but this
seemed somehow different. As if Tracey's statement about sharing her mouth was more
meaningful than a mere statement.

It honestly made Harry wonder. Tracey didn't speak often, but when she did it seemed to
carry a lot of weight, "He is for me," being the first time he'd experienced the feeling, but that
simple bit about sharing her mouth had the same punch to it.

The same ring as when he thought of certain people as home, or family.

It was truth, he now realized. Not just something he knew was right, like two plus two equals
four. But, truth, of a more profound aspect, one of the most basic facets of the cosmos, of all
of existence.

It was almost... religious, in a way, how deeply he felt the statement true.

"You love her," Harry whispered, "So deeply I can feel it, and I can see it. She loves you just
as much, you know."

"I know," Daphne whispered back, "I just... I am scared, sometimes. Times like... well, this."

"Because you can't or don't want to share in that way? Or you don't want to share her?"

Daphne shook her head on his lap. It was not at all sexual for him, this moment, but more
intimate, vulnerable than he could ever remember her being. That Daphne Greengrass, the Ice
Queen herself, was allowing herself to remain this way, told Harry far more about her than he
thought she would ever know. She really did trust him. Him, Tracey, and probably no one
else, not even her sister or parents, quite as much, "It's... more that I don't want to lose her, if
she... she finds someone she likes more."
Harry nodded, he had wrestled with that himself. First with Hermione, of course, but then
Ginny, "I have found," he eventually murmured, while Pansy, Ginny, Hermione, and Neville
switched partners and positions again, Neville finally giving in and ramming Pansy's rear too,
while the girls swapped saliva or fed her their twats, "that sharing really does mean caring.
There's an old muggle phrase, I'll probably mess it up, but... 'If you love something, set it
free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was.'"

"That's something I've heard before," Daphne told him.

"Well... right now, you are setting Tracey free, much like you did with me. It's a risk, it can be
painful. What if she doesn't come back to you? I get it, I promise you I do. Every time one of
my girls, any of them, is with Ron, or Neville, or someone else, there's a tiny little twinge in
me, even now."

"Your girls?"

He grinned down at her pointed question, just two words, "My family. You and Tracey are
included, you know. I care far more than some silly contract would make me do."

She let her eyes narrow, and relaxed back onto his lap, almost purring as his hands continued
sliding through her silky, golden hair.

"But every time I see them with someone else, I see two people I care about, even if I care far
more about one person than the other, enjoying each other, having fun... expressing their own
love for the other. For me, that's what I want. I want my family, my girls, and yes my blokes
too as Iris, to be happy. I can make them happy. I know I can. Or at least, they can be happy
with me. But why would I want to limit them? They can be happy together, too. It's more
love, more happiness, more... pleasure. Why would I hold that away from them? I know, it's
'natural' to want it for yourself. I just... don't feel that way myself. I never really have."

Daphne nodded, but didn't say anything.

Tracey finally got Ron to climax after a few more minutes, and sat up, licking the taste of him
from her lips for several seconds while she looked down at the slowly softening dick, then
over at him and Daphne. She grinned, then belched as the mass of Ron's cum left her throat
and stomach all at once to join the now much-diminished sphere before Lilith.

She was nearly done with his arms, but the work continued apace. Now, though, Ron was
allowed a break, and he quickly fell asleep as Tracey came back over to sit on the side of the
couch flanking Harry, and leaned down to put her head on his shoulder. The action on the
other couch continued, but slower, more leisurely, the girls now giving Pansy her pleasure in
turn while Neville rested, "When I first Summoned Lilith, it was because I was lonely. Horny
too, of course, but what I didn't recognize... I didn't know how to recognize, was that it was
mostly just being lonely. I had two friends, in a vast sea of people my age, and even adults I
could have been friends with. Hagrid, sure, but that's just one. Even Sirius and Remus, as
much as I love and respect them, were my parents' friends. For me, they're more like...
uncles. And my actual uncle and his family? Well, his wife, my mother's sister, is an utter
cow in the worst way, a lot like Pansy used to be, actually. Their son turned out alright after I
saved his soul from Dementors, but before that he was a waste of space too. I had no one,
except Ron and Hermione.

"And I knew they loved each other. I loved Hermione too, of course, and it turned out that I
was her first- but she'd gone down on him before that, just once. She was, I'm happy to
report, in love with both of us. Things might've turned out very differently if it weren't that
way. But since she did... and I loved Ron like a brother, how could I deny them that
happiness? I denied my own instead. Only Hermione wouldn't have it. I had Lilith then, but
we... found a way. We shared. Tried it out, just once, to check for jealousy. Do we seem
jealous of each other's pleasure?"

"No," Daphne admitted quietly, "You all seem... happy. Not just shagged silly. The way you
talk to each other, it's... mesmerizing."

"That's what I mean by family," he told her, "You and Tracey are my family too. You're
already inside, you just have to realize it. You don't have to shag anyone you don't want to. I'd
never force that on you, or anyone else, ever again. I've learned that lesson. You have no idea
how guilty I felt, and sometimes still feel, for what I did to Pansy and you, Daphne. Even if it
turned out well, it's... luck. And I hate relying on luck."

"That's good, Harry Potter," Tracey murmured into his ear, "because while I'll share my
mouth, my tight little pussy belongs to you and Daphne alone. Maybe, maybe your slutty
little Succubus... eventually, after Daphne gives in to that pleasure. I belong to her and you,
no one else. You are for me."

"Family," he murmured again.

Eventually, Ginny and Pansy came over to service him again, while the group wore Ron out
from his second set of Runes. And Daphne and Tracey, unaltered themselves, quickly fell
asleep on the couch after their second round together.

When Harry woke the next morning, he was not getting his dick sucked on, or ridden, or even
stroked leisurely by one of the many sweat and cum-drenched bodies he had finally fallen
asleep amidst. Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were gone, and Lyra was on her knees lapping
at Pansy's cunt while Ron, half-hard and looking more exhausted than Harry felt by far, idly
played with her tits, pushing one into the other, and then back, or occasionally tweaking
them. Pansy, it seemed, had been ordered by Lyra not to move, for she was otherwise laying
motionless aside from trembles in her body, staring pointedly at the ceiling as the two
molested her.

Harry thought she was probably feeling incredibly aroused and useful at the moment,
enjoying every bit of what they were doing with her, though neither seemed to be trying to
get themselves off, or even focus overmuch on her own climax.

Daphne and Tracey were now dressed, and sitting on the same couch they had occupied the
previous night, looking much more put-together. What had woken him, Harry thought, was
the blonde asking a question of Ron.
The ginger shrugged, lifting one hand off their House-mate's breasts to turn it back and forth
in front of his face, "Donno," he shrugged after a few seconds, going back to pinch Pansy's
nipples one after the other, and give her tits a squeeze, then resume his previous idle play,
"Hermione noticed hers right away. I don't reckon there's any harm in telling you, she can see
magic. Different enchantments, charms, hexes, and so on show up as different colors and
intensities. She's told me a bit about it, she reckons she can identify most spells based on how
they look alone. Ginny can- well... maybe I shouldn't say hers. She likes to keep it a secret."

Harry grinned in silence, not moving aside from his eyes and keeping them half-lidded as he
continued to listen.

"No one else has done the second Rune-set yet. Donno why Harry pushed for it so fast, to be
honest."

Lyra looked up from between Pansy's legs, her cherubic, half-Japanese face glistening with
fluids, "It's because, even though Lavender and Pansy have the first set too, they haven't had
them as long. It wouldn't take as well, wouldn't be as powerful. You and Neville could have
gotten yours sooner. Hannah could probably be early for a second set too, if she wants them."

Then, after she finished talking, the Succubus continued into Harry's head, "Master, most of
the others are preparing for classes. Daphne and Tracey, despite being the first to pass out,
woke up a fair bit earlier and are essentially ready aside from the rest of their uniforms.
Ronald is probably attending, but he may be... distracted, as the Runes acclimate. They've
been talking about what powers he's going to get. I haven't seen any indication yet, but the
Runes lean toward something defensive in nature."

"Alright, Lilith. Sounds good. Let them keep going, if you don't mind. It's interesting, Ron
carrying on a conversation with three Slytherins... and no shouting. He's come a long way."

His pet sent feelings of affirmation and amused agreement through their connection, but
didn't communicate in words again. Instead, Tracey asked a quiet question, "Even you can't
tell, Lyra?"

Again, the Succubus paused in her oral work, "No. I can't tell with anyone, not until they
actively manifest at least. I could perhaps identify a power based on a description, but I don't
even technically need a Succubus Power to transfer it, only the ability to have it. He could
have almost anything."

Daphne frowned along with Ron, "And you've tried everything?"

"Everything Lyra said, yeah," the tall boy nodded, giving Pansy's boobs another tweak and
then standing from the bed to stretch, his cock hard now and standing upright, "I'm gonna go
find Hermione. I need another blowjob before breakfast. Those Runes are making me fucking
randy."

Lyra looked a little annoyed that she hadn't been asked to trade partners, but Pansy chose that
moment to finally climax, so she was appeased by licking up more juices.
Harry sat up too, taking over playing with his slave's left breast for a few seconds himself,
but less energetically than even Ron as she came down from her climax, "Morning, ladies.
Can't believe I slept that long."

Again, Lyra had the answer, "I can. You gave more of yourself for the ritual than usual, and
were actively engaged for hours past everyone but me and Ron. It makes sense. You've only
been asleep for a little over two hours."

"Yeah, but still," Harry murmured, "I don't... feel like it was that short. Iris is more tired than
I am."

Lyra only shrugged half-heartedly and turned to the more dressed Slytherins, "You needn't
make a decision now, but having seen the second ritual, I can say definitively that the first
one is easier. It doesn't take quite the numbers, for one. Three is the minimum, instead of six,
and with myself, Master, and one other, that's all we need. So it would just be the four of us."

Harry knew that wasn't exactly accurate, as he, Ron, and Hermione had all gotten their first
Runes with just their own seed and Lilith's, though Harry had been there for Ron's. But he
also knew that the base set Ron and Hermione had been given was weaker, and that it had
taken longer to grow to full strength than the newer ones had. His own, applied before he'd
even had sex with the Succubus, had come in several stages for the first set, and never had
another partner to begin with. But he let it slide, knowing the girls were probably more
comfortable that way.

"That being said," Lyra continued, "if you do get the first set, you'll want the second
eventually. I don't say that because everyone does, but because you two are both sexually
charged enough you'll want it, if only to have more sex more often and feel better doing it.
But, if we are careful, we shouldn't need to add a man besides Master. It'd be your girlfriend,
Master, myself, and likely Hermione, Ginny, and Pansy here. We also have the options of
Hannah and Lavender, of course."

"But still, no pressure," Harry added, "I just want you safe. You don't have to get Runes to be
safe, it's just more safe if you get them. But you'll never get a disease or unwanted pregnancy
from me or any of the others that have them. That alone makes it worth getting the second
set, if you ask me. You'd never have to worry about it from anyone. The extra stamina and
physical attributes is a very nice bonus, though."

"Alright, alright," Daphne muttered weakly, "You've convinced me, alright? I don't know
when, though. You say you have a line, and I don't want to cut."

"I do," Harry admitted, "And it seems like it gets longer every day, but we are trying to power
through it. The only people who are ahead of you now are Katie Bell, our Quidditch Captain,
and Luna Lovegood. Maybe Susan Bones... if she decides she wants them."

Tracey nodded and stood up, taking her girlfriend's hand to pull her to her feet, too, "We
should finish getting ready. Thank you... Harry. It was enlightening and entertaining."

Harry grinned. Knowing he and Lyra had essentially tricked the group into accepting Ron
and Ginny orally pleasing each other was nice, but having made the honest mistake of
miscounting in that same trick and convincing Tracey to blow his best mate in front of her
girlfriend had been even more fun. Not that he expected it a lot. In fact, he felt a little bad
about it.

Not bad enough that as the other two left the room, he wasn't going to use his slut, though,
"Open your legs, Pansy. Master wants you."

"Okay," she murmured softly and obeyed. He slid inside her already drenched pussy easily,
the smooth silk of it deep and narrow, always less wrinkled than others he had been with but
no less pleasurable for it.

He started moving slowly and leisurely as he looked over at Lyra, "How long before
breakfast?"

"About ten minutes. You should probably climax fast, if you're going to shower. I'm going to
go see if I can scare a reaction out of Ron, then go check on Astoria. I'm sure she's alright,
but Daphne asked."

"Alright. Thanks, love."

The Succubus beamed at him as she transformed into a hideous mockery of her true form,
something ugly and stilted, then stalked on uneven legs out into the common area's bathroom.
Even though his best mate's shriek of terror and surprise was amusing, it didn't seem to
provoke the response Lilith wanted, for disappointment came over their connection
afterward.

Soon, though, Harry's attention was turned back toward Pansy, and he leaned down to kiss
her tenderly, surprising the girl as he did, "Thank you for being yourself, love," he told her
too, "Giving yourself so freely makes me happy. I want you to know that. And I don't want
you to worry about not having a place to go if Milly loses her home, or if it's not safe after
school. I'll always take care of you. You're mine now."

"Thank you," Pansy whispered, her dark eyes tearing up slightly beneath him, "I didn't want
to say anything..."

"I know. But you're mine, and I love you."

"I love you too, Harry..."

When at last both were finished, they had to hurry to shower before breakfast was over, and
still almost missed it.
 Revenge of the Slytherin

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 111 there... in fact I'm about to start the second book in the series,
which begins with what would be this fic's Ch. 112. Am I aiming for 333 (3x3)? No. But it
might hit that anyway. lol

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Don't forget to Comment, either! I reply to all of them I see (though Ao3 sometimes doesn't
show up in my inbox properly). :)

Chap. 73: Revenge of the Slytherin

Classes on Friday were, unfortunately, some of the most taxing of the week. Harry's day
began with Potions, then he had the longer double Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark
Arts with Dumbledore all before lunch. After that class-time was a bit lower, with a study
period and then double Transfiguration before dinner. But as much as he liked the
Headmaster and his teaching style, he found Defense more exhausting this year than any
other so far.

It wasn't just the nonverbal casting, which seemed to be a requirement for nearly all classes
starting in the second month of the term. He wasn't terrible at that, though of course Harry
struggled a lot more than Hermione who picked it up from the first lesson.

No, the reason Defense was so tiring was because Dumbledore, no doubt remembering how
effective a teacher Harry could be, had roped him into being a teaching assistant. It was
Harry who most often demonstrated spells, not Dumbledore himself. It was Harry who the
Headmaster referred most questions to, only answering them if Harry himself said he didn't
know, though the old man did often add a tidbit or two here and there.

While the results were doing great things for Gryffindor's chances at the House Cup this year,
it wasn't exactly endearing the Headmaster to Harry very much. Even if he was grateful for
the lessons, and the trust shown.

Worst by far was Transfiguration. Not because he was bad at it. If anything, Harry felt he was
honestly better than most of the class, with only Tracey and Hermione outperforming his own
casting. But doing the conjurations nonverbally was far more taxing on his resources than he
would have expected. He felt like he would've been fine, if not for the orgy they'd used for
the Ritual the night before. They would have the weekend after this, at least, but the ritual
they would be performing tonight, whomever it ended up being, would take every bit the
young wizard thought he had left.

He was very much looking forward to a nice, relaxing blowjob to take the edge off, a couple
of hours of homework, dinner, and then a taxing but still stress-relieving more-some with
several of his closest friends. The one the night before had been brilliant, and now Harry felt
closer to Pansy than he ever had before after their talk that morning. He couldn't wait to see
what came next.

Would it be Daphne, the one he'd lost his virginity to? Or Tracey, the smallest and tightest
human pussy he'd ever had? Which would be the focus of the evening? Daphne was a lesbian
through and through, though she said she enjoyed being with Harry just fine, and had even
admitted to fantasizing about him a few times before they had sex the night he'd summoned
Lilith. Would she even want to be with another bloke? Ron and Neville would be put out by
her reluctance, but he doubted they would object overmuch. Neither was the type of man who
would demand it of her. Tracey... she had promised Daphne that only she and Harry would
have her body, but that she might occasionally please others with her mouth.

There were plenty of girls to go around, especially if Hannah made it tonight. Having the
numbers for the group ritual wasn't a problem that he could tell. But would it make a
difference if there weren't as many guys? Their fluids were thicker, and lasted longer before
drying. He could see that being an issue.

Harry pondered those thoughts for several minutes as he made his way to the suite, Hermione
and Ron having split up to go to the library to grab a couple more books for their homework
study.

All was quiet and well, except for the missing girls.

Of course Pansy, once he actually reached the suite, was more than eager to settle on her
knees between his and give him that much-needed relief.

After he had rewarded her efforts with a stomach-swelling amount of semen thanks to his
Succubus-given gifts, Harry, Pansy, Tracey, Ron, and Hannah settled in to start their
homework. The sooner they got it done, the wizard reasoned, the sooner they could start the
fun. The sooner they started that, the sooner he could rest and enjoy a more leisurely
weekend.

Harry James Potter, of all people, should have known that would never happen as he
envisioned it.

"It's better to act in a fight, or even most duels," Harry piped up in response to a question
Pansy had asked the group for their Defense homework, "Hesitation just gets you killed. It
does help to have a plan, and the more information you have the better your plan will be,
but... well, let me sum it up with a quote. I forget who said it, and I'm going to mess it up, but
it was some Yank general I think. 'A good plan violently executed now, is better than a
perfect plan executed next week.' Get the enemy side off the field. Weaken their ability to
fight back. Because if you take a moment to plan, so will they. You come out worse in the
end nine times out of ten. Just act. Even if the action is wrong, your chances of survival are
better if you move."

Ron nodded sagely, his expression dark, much like Harry's, as they both remembered times
they could have used that advice.
Pansy was about to ask a clarifying question when the door burst open, and a wide-eyed
Ginny Weasley stormed inside, with blood running down a gash in her left cheek, "Luna's-
in- in the Hospital Wing," she gasped, "Was attacked- Slytherins!"

Harry was on his feet, wand in hand, before he realized he was even moving. He was
charging for the door to storm the entire House of Serpents, alone if he had to, when Ginny
threw her small arms over the doorway, blocking his exit, "W- Wait, Harry! Wait! I- I have
more. Just listen, will you?"

"Luna's hurt," Harry growled, voice low and threatening. He didn't know why he sounded so
angry, aside from caring for the small, spacey girl very much. Still, he wasn't about to hurt
Ginny to get to her, "Move."

"Not until you've heard what I have to say," Ginny replied stubbornly.

"Pet," Harry growled, "Move."

Almost at once, as if she were pulled by invisible strings, Ginny moved to the side with a
surprised yelp. Harry had not noticed the strange way she had moved, and was already in
motion toward the hall once more when Ron's leg-locker curse hit him in the back. He didn't
fall, but instead tottered until Ginny's hands steadied him.

"Maybe we ought to listen to what Gin has to say, yeah?"

The rest of his body still perfectly mobile, Harry angled his wand down to cancel the curse
and sent a glare at his best friend, who, for once, seemed the far more reasonable of the two,
"Fine. Talk."

Ginny swallowed, a bit nervously, and glanced around the room as if to check for who was
there and who wasn't, "A group of Slytherins attacked Luna. There was a girl, she- she said,
she didn't know who, was crying. Asked for help when Luna walked by. Then, while she was
distracted, a group of boys attacked her from around the corner and from a couple of rooms.
She didn't see most of them. One of them hit her on the back of the head pretty hard early on.
Stunned her a bit, I think, before they were on her. Then they started groping, tearing at her
clothes... even the girl did."

"She was bait?" Ron asked.

Ginny nodded seriously, "Looks like it. Harry... Luna's okay. Madam Pomfrey's treating her
right now, but she'll be fine. Hermione and I heard the noise and went to help right off, the
whole brawl was maybe thirty seconds. She'll be okay. Hermione broke a finger when she
punched Crabbe in the face, and we all got a few scrapes, but she'll be fine too. I just... well,
we all thought you needed to know."

"Crabbe was there? What about Goyle?" Harry asked, surprising most of them with how calm
he sounded.

"I didn't see him," Ginny admitted, "There were a few I know by face, but not many. A bunch
of them in our year, mostly, and Crabbe was the oldest."
"Malfoy might've had a hand in planning it," Ron muttered, "but he's not in the castle as far
as we can tell. And no one's seen Nott in a long while, since well before the hols. Who else
would, or could, pull off a plan like that?"

Tracey spoke up for the first time since Ginny had entered, her voice quiet but somehow
piercing the entire room, "Almost any of our House. Malfoy aside, we are not called the
house of the cunning for nothing."

Harry growled. She was, unfortunately, right. He automatically discarded thinking of any of
his girls as culpable, they would simply have no motive or reason to. The Carrow twins were
plenty smart enough, he suspected, but why would they bother? Besides, they had sworn an
oath just like the others to protect him and his, not to attack them. Millicent Bulstrode, too,
was quickly ruled out. But that left a dozen or more people, at minimum. They just didn't
know enough.

"No other faces you could name?"

Ginny shook her head sadly, "No. I already gave a list to Dumbledore and McGonagall. They
were both furious, of course. At least without Snape here, if they do get caught, the
punishment will be worse."

"They're lucky to survive if I find out who did it," Harry muttered, "Can I go see her, yet? Or
am I being kept here?"

Ginny sighed, then threw her arms around Harry, "She's okay, Harry. We're all okay. If we
hadn't got there things might've been bad. Luna was fighting... but she was outnumbered
pretty bad. From what I saw you'd have been proud of her though. Um... there were... other
Slytherins. Bulstrode and Warrington showed up a minute after we did from the other side."

"What'd they do?" Ron growled, sounding a lot like Harry. Clearly, he suspected they might
be the masterminds.

"They started hexing their house-mates," Ginny replied, her face buried in Harry's chest,
"Warrington stunned a few, then started using his fists. Bulstrode knocked one out with a kick
to the face like one of those old Kung Fu guys they show on the cinema, and then she started
using her wand, too. They... they were on our side."

"Good," Harry nodded, hoping his voice and tone conveyed that he believed it, "They're like
Pansy, remember? They know what's going on. This might get them in trouble, though."

"Likely they'll be ostracized and put in more danger," that girl murmured, "We'll need to pull
them out of the dorms if we can. Could you speak with Dumbledore, Harry?"

He sighed, "As soon as I can, yeah. What about Astoria?"

Pansy only shrugged, "I already said she can bunk with me."

With a plan in mind, Harry told the rest to stay at the suite if possible, and to travel only in
small groups or at least pairs for the next few days. He then took Ginny as his partner to head
to the hospital wing. He needed to see Hermione. And he needed to see Luna.

He believed Ginny that they were alright. He did. However, that didn't stop or quell the
burning need to see it with his own eyes.

While many students were necking or groping each other in the halls as they moved, Harry
paid them little mind. Instead, his thoughts raced as he contemplated who might have actually
orchestrated this attack. He didn't know a lot of Slytherins that would have, though he
suspected many that he wasn't close with might've done it. The list of suspects was, if
anything, too long to narrow it down easily.

When the pair of them reached the infirmary, they found Katie Bell assisting Madam
Pomfrey with wrapping a bandage around Hermione's finger, one arm helping to keep the
bookworm's hand steady while the other loosely held a spool of linen that unrolled under the
careful wand-work of the medi-witch. He was much relieved to see Hermione sitting up in
the bed. A plaster over her right temple, held on by a similar wrapping, was already soaked a
bit with blood, but she was otherwise looking more or less normal, aside from a few rips and
tears in her clothes.

Luna, beyond her in the further bed, was awake but laying down, watching the proceedings
with some interest. Her brilliant blue eyes sparked to life as she saw them, and Hermione
looked up and smiled too, "Harry!"

"Quiet," Pomfrey muttered, "Potter, if you've come with another injury..."

"No," he chuckled, for once relieved to be visiting the hospital wing under his own power,
instead of 'visiting' forcefully, "I'm actually just here to see them."

"Well, keep it down. The break in her finger was worse than we thought, and I've got to be a
bit delicate until the Skele-grow has time to work."

"That potion was right foul," Hermione muttered, her face switching from relief to disgust.

Katie, Harry noticed, was watching Ginny more than anyone else, or even her own assigned
task, but for the moment he couldn't devote too much energy to it as the red-head's hand
slipped into his comfortably. Harry smiled at Hermione, told Madame Pomfrey he'd leave her
be for the moment, and walked around his best friend's bed to where Luna was watching him
intently.

"Alright, Luna?"

The blonde suddenly beamed up at him, though she winced as the smile pulled at a cut on her
lip. She was by far the worse of the two girls as far as he could tell, with several bruises
around her wrists and even neck, and a dozen or more small cuts and abrasions, not least of
which were adorning all ten of her knuckles, "I've been better, Harry," she replied, "That was
not a pleasant experience."

"I imagine not," Harry said softly, reaching out with his free hand to brush a lock of hair out
of her face, "I know you already told Dumbledore and McGonagall what you know, so I
won't pester you about that. I just want to tell you I'm sorry this happened to you. And that
you didn't deserve it. But I'm proud you fought back."

"I'm not sure what else I could have done," the Ravenclaw replied quietly, "I am not a
Gryffindor, but I don't think I could stand by and let myself be taken like that. Only you and
Alra can do that. I would not even let the Lady of Dreams possess me that way. At least
without fighting back."

"I won't own you that way," Harry told her quietly, "Can I give you a hug?"

Luna beamed up at him, "Of course you can Harry," she waited until his arms were around
her before she did the same to him a little lower. Then she whispered, "And of course you
will. I belong to you because I want to, Harry. You can possess me because I want you to.
And Alra, of course. And my other friend, but they won't own me like that, either."

Harry jumped when, right there in the Hospital Wing, Luna's right hand slipped down his
waist to cup his arse and give it a squeeze, "L- Luna!"

Of course, his shout attracted the notice of every other occupant of the infirmary. Hermione
only rolled her eyes knowingly, while Ginny grinned. Katie stared at the girl, her face
heating, then to Harry and back. Madam Pomfrey, on the other hand, shot the girl a stern
glare, then sent worse toward Harry, "Another of your limitless conquests, Potter? Aren't you
satisfied, yet? I'm sure half the castle's pregnancies are due to you and yours."

"Actually," Hermione spoke up in his defense, "To the best of our knowledge, none of us
have gotten anyone pregnant. Harry, Ron, and Neville can't do so without wanting to, at any
rate, if what Lilith has been telling us is true... And with, um... with the frequency, we've,
well, I would be expecting... you know, that one of us would be among that number..."

Hermione's turned pink as she stammered through the last parts of her observation, but
Madam Pomfrey took the information in her stride with the long practice of a medical
practitioner, "Hm," she replied, then sniffed before returning her attention to the girl's fingers.
A gentle, fast flick of her wand had the bandages attached to each other in a seamless fashion,
"Alright, Miss Granger, that's you sorted. If you will assure me that your right hand will
undergo no strenuous activity for the next twelve hours, I can release you now. Otherwise, I
will fall back on the Potter Protocol, and request that you stay overnight."

"Wait, how come she can leave?" Harry asked loudly, "If it was me, you'd insist I stay!"

Madam Pomfrey sniffed again, louder herself, "Because unlike you, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger
does not have a habit of injuring herself in general. And, unlike you, I can trust that Miss
Granger will keep her promises."

Hermione and Luna both giggled while Harry gaped. This time, Katie looked back and forth
between her mentor and friends in shock. Then she blinked, and looked at the Medi-Witch,
"The Potter Protocol?"

"Yes," the older woman replied at once, shooting Harry another gimlet eye as she started
packing her supplies away, "It's the name I gave a protocol I developed four years ago to keep
students who have a hard time staying put while under treatment. Restraints may be involved,
monitoring charms on location, and so on. You get the idea."

Harry could only splutter while the girls continued to giggle at his expense. At least this time,
he knew there was nothing cruel about it.

Four hours later, Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor Common Room
before turning to offer his hand to a sleepy Katie Bell. Hermione had gone to the library after
she had been released, of course, and returned with a few books for Luna to read while she
healed under the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey. Her own injuries were superficial in
comparison, and physically she was fine. The Healer put her foot down with regard to Luna,
however, and ordered the girl to stay the night just for observation, in case of nightmares or
similar incidents brought on by the attack. Luna didn't mind, exactly, but had lamented the
lack of reading material before bed.

She seemed satisfied with the three tomes Hermione brought her, at least, and was cheerfully
reading when Pomfrey informed Harry that visiting hours were over, and that he should
return to his quarters or the dorm.

As usual in the common room these days, there were a few older students in various states of
undress. Two were, he was pretty sure, slowly shagging beneath a blanket on the couch
where he had claimed Ginny publicly not so very long ago. The rest were snogging, and none
paid any attention to the pair of them as the Fat Lady's portrait swung closed. It was a quiet
night by comparison to most lately, only five couples total were spread around the large
room.

Katie kept hold of Harry's hand, and took the lead as she moved closer to the fire, which was
still crackling merrily away to keep the room warm. As they passed one couple, Harry was
amused to hear the seventh-year girl, one he wasn't particularly familiar with, growl, "Really,
McLaggen? You've been feeling up my tits for twenty minutes, and you aren't even hard? I
don't know why I bothered."

"That never happens, I swear," were the last words he heard before Katie, stifling a yawn,
pointed at the squashy armchair closest to the fire.

He sat, and a moment later his lap was filled with his teammate's warm body. Katie leaned
against him, resting her head on his shoulder, "Hope this is okay."

"More than," he replied, one arm moving around her slim waist to pull her a bit closer, while
the other lifted to run gently through her silky hair.

"I want to shag, but I'm tired. That attack... I was there for the last of it. Helped bring Luna to
the Hospital Wing... may have tossed a few curses at the losers. None of them came to visit,
though."

"Probably smart," Harry growled, "If they'd been there when I arrived, I'm not sure what I
would have done. Probably started hexing at once."
"Would have made more work for us. If there was anything left."

"Sorry. I don't think that would have stopped me."

"Mm. Probably not," Katie admitted sleepily, "So- Sorry. I didn't sleep well last night, either."

"It's alright. You can rest, if you like."

"Mm..." And that was it for almost an hour. The girl with McLaggen eventually gave up, and
stormed up the stairs to the girl's dorm. The couple on the couch finished quietly, the girl
rather shamelessly letting the blanket over her shoulders fall as she rode him at the end. They
snogged a bit more, then returned under the covers to dress and then went up their own
separate stairs. Two of the other couples seemed to have fallen asleep under their own
blankets on the floor when Katie spoke again, her voice still sleepy, "Horny, Harry. Shag...?"

He gave a little snort and opened his eyes in the now dimly lit room. Somehow, without him
noticing, one of the castle's House Elves must have banked the fire for the night, "If you're
tired that's probably not a good idea, it'll just wake you up. But... maybe I can just get you
off?"

"Want you to get off, too," Katie murmured, her lips sliding against Harry's neck as she
continued cuddling.

"Much as that does sound like fun, I've got other ways. You're tired, let me take care of you."

She was quiet a bit longer, then murmured, "Okay."

Katie squeaked a little as Harry slid a hand under her rump and lifted her whole body with
one arm, then giggled softly as he set her back down on his lap with her legs on the outside of
his own. With an almost-idle wave of his wand, he levitated the blanket the other students
had been using, which definitely smelled of sex, over to them, and let the outer side fall down
to protect Katie's modesty. Then, rather than just start in, he lifted his hands to the girl's
shoulders and started to rub.

The Chaser sighed at once, seeming to melt into him over just a few seconds. Unfortunately
with her on his lap, the angle was a bit awkward, so Harry felt he couldn't exactly put his all
into it. Still, he kneaded until the knots in the girl's toned shoulders started to loosen, then
made his way gently down each arm and then back up, knuckling and then using his palm to
massage several hard spots in the muscles along Katie's back, too.

"You're really good at that," she told him quietly as he started moving down her spine,
"Where'd you learn...?"

"I didn't," he replied, near whispering, "I just... That's where it feels like it hurts the most.
Empathy, I guess?"

"Hm.. You should take lessons from Parvati. Or Padma, I s'pose. You could be even better."

Harry perked up a bit at that. He'd been looking for a reason to shag either or both of the
beautiful Hindi girls for months, and a bit of near, or completely, naked massage training
sounded like the perfect way to facilitate that, "Oh? They any good?"

"Mm, hmm. Angelina had one from them a few years ago after that match where she was hit
in the back by Thaddeus, that big Hufflepuff bloke who graduated last year. Said they're
really good. I had a few myself."

"Ah. Not sure how good I'd be in comparison to someone who really knows what they're
doing, though."

Katie snorted in an unladylike fashion, "You have talent, Harry. They're good, they really
know what they're doing. But if you're this good without training, you could be so much
better. If you want to. Just putting it out there."

"Okay. Well... I'll think about it. You feeling any more relaxed?"

"Yeah. More horny, too."

Harry snorted again, then glanced around the room to make sure no one was paying any
attention. The other couple was either performing oral sex on each other, or wrestling now,
half-hidden behind one of the far tables. While the others seemed to be well on the way to
sleep, "Lean back then. I'll take care of you."

Katie did, squirming a bit until she was comfortable with her head tilted back onto Harry's
shoulder, "Mm... you're comfy."

"So're you," Harry told her, the hand that had been around her waist raising to gently cup one
of Katie's breasts. He didn't bother doing more than kneading it gently over her shirt and bra,
though he kissed her cheek once, "Didn't think having a girl like this would be that way, but
you actually feel really nice there."

She didn't seem to feel the need to respond, so Harry used his other arm under the blanket to
slide up Katie's leg, gently gripping and then loosening on her thigh as he went. Once he
reached her skirt, he kept moving, a little slower as he started doing a little more caressing of
the witch's thick, muscular thigh.

Once Harry's fingers touched her knickers, he ghosted the pads over the cotton until he was
cupping her completely. Katie was among the tallest of the girls he'd shagged, with only
Angelina and Marietta being taller (not counting Lilith, of course, who cheated), but his hand
still covered her sex completely. She sighed as he applied a little pressure. Harry felt her clit
start to swell just a little against his palm as she grew more aroused, but did little more than
squeeze and let go for a moment.

When he started moving in slow circles, Katie sighed and relaxed against him further, a soft
smile playing over her lips, "Forgot how good it feels... with someone else," she said quietly,
interrupted by another yawn, "I can... can't even do it myself these days. Only came with
you."

"Sorry," Harry told her, "I... I can make myself more available if you need it. Or someone
else, if you prefer."
"Wouldn't-" another yawn, "mind with your Succubus, I think. Ron... well, maybe. Might
remind me a bit too much of the twins. Ginny, though... maybe her. I hear she's rea- really
good with her mouth."

"That she is."

"Maybe. I... You're, um, r- really okay with them? Ron and Ginny? Um... doing, like, each
other? With their mouths?"

"I love my friends," Harry said simply, "And I want them to feel good. Besides, Ginny's
really fit. Watching her get shagged is... a treat, and I know Ron's got it where it counts."

Katie reached down herself to grab Harry's wrist, and guide it up, then down beneath the hem
of her knickers to touch her directly, "'S a bit weird. To be discussing other lovers when
we're, you know... like this."

"Maybe. It's becoming pretty normal for me, though."

"I s'pose. You're pretty good with your hands."

Harry smiled against her neck now, and pressed another kiss through her brown hair, "I've
had some good instruction."

"You'd... let them shag? Even though they're siblings?"

"Can't knock each other up, or spread disease, with the Runes. So they can't have all those
negative consequences. Don't really see why not, without that."

"I guess I can't argue with that. Still, it's a bit weird."

"Maybe. It's also really hot, for just that reason."

He continued working Katie's pussy for a few minutes, occasionally dipping the first knuckle
of his middle finger into her twat while her breathing slowly picked up in pace, "Fred and
George wanked each other a few times," she admitted softly, "Alicia sort of... encouraged it.
Said it was hot, too."

"Incest is apparently a pretty common kink," Harry replied, "Lilith, Lyra, transformed into
my mum a few times. It was weird at first, but... she's pretty that way. I can see why my dad
loved her for that alone. Someone else in our group's had a family member, too. Two,
actually, one direct and one a cousin. A third one's thought about it. Besides Ron and Gin, of
course."

"You lot are perverse," Katie giggled, her hips grinding a bit into Harry's hand, "I... I guess
it's okay. If there's not any chance of disease or a sprog, or something."

"The only children Ginny will have will be mine," Harry told her.

"Alright. What, uh... you said something about me getting some Runes, too."
"Yeah. That's still on the list. We were actually going to do a set for Daphne Greengrass or
Tracey Davis from Slytherin tonight, or maybe Luna, but it's a bit late, and with everything
that happened... Maybe tomorrow. Of course, if you want in. All the way in. We can maybe
do the first set because I trust you, but the second... I can't just give out those abilities to just
anyone. You'd have to be one of us. I don't mean it to be a trade, but I have to keep my family
safe."

"I get that. I'd do the same, I think I- I do. I don't want to go my whole life just... occasionally
having you. I liked sex. A lot. I want that again. And I do like all of you. At least, the ones I
know."

"I think you'll like, or even love, the rest too. The Slytherins have changed a lot from how
they used to be, or how we thought they were."

"Okay. You can put fingers in, you know."

Harry grinned, and the hand on her breast gave a tighter squeeze, "I was trying to make it
good, but if you just want an orgasm..."

"M'tired," she reminded him.

Hard himself, Harry knew he could simply strip down his trousers and slide into the girl, but
he also knew that if he did, they wouldn't sleep for at least an hour. Instead, he did as Katie
asked. First one, then two fingers slid into her hole, and he started sliding them in and out,
stroking at her g-spot with every thrust. He let a bit of the magic he had gained from Lilith
slide out of him too, caressing and moving over Katie's body with tingles of pleasure and
arousal to coax her closer to the precipice.

"Can't- Can't believe you're- you're gonna make me cum in the Common Room," Katie
hissed, "Never... that public. Can't- can't even get myself off..."

"The first time we shagged it was on the Pitch," Harry reminded her with a chuckle, "And
this isn't even shagging. I have to admit it's intimate though... you slut."

"I might be," Katie hissed, her hips gyrating a bit faster against his hand. Her rump was
tugging and shoving against Harry's dick too, but it would never be enough to make him
climax. It still felt nice, and he let himself enjoy the sensation as he brought his teammate
closer to orgasm, "I was part of a group relationship, after all."

"You're going to be part of one again," he told her, "a bigger one. A loving one. A caring
one... You can shag whomever you want in our group, whenever you want, as long as they
agree. Someone will always be there to fuck you, Katie. Someone to make you cum again...
and again. Just like... now."

Experience had taught him she was getting close, but a final thrust with his magic and a third
finger had her climaxing hard, spraying audibly against the blanket that covered her,
drenching Harry's hand too. Katie's entire body seized in her orgasm, and the only thing that
moved was his palm clenching and unclenching powerfully against her engorged clit.
Once she came down, Katie turned in his lap to give him a quick kiss, then stood and let the
blanket fall, shamelessly pulling up her dripping knickers right there, "You sure you don't
want me to take care of you? That was brilliant."

"No," Harry chuckled, "You're tired. Go to bed lover. There will be other times."

"Alright. Good night, Harry."

A few minutes later, as he slipped out of his clothes and opened the curtains of his own four-
poster, Lilith was there. She was in her usual form for him, small, petite, nearly flat-chested
with short pink hair, "Hey, beautiful," he whispered, hoping the others were asleep. He didn't
mind sharing with Neville and Ron of course, but without Dean and Seamus there, the dorm
felt quiet and empty. He would rather it stayed undisturbed until he got silencing charms up.

Without a word, mentally or otherwise, the little Succubus mounted Harry as he settled onto
his back beneath the covers, and rode him quickly to two orgasms before she lay down on his
chest, and he fell asleep.

(O)(O)(O)

Harry blinked himself awake in the early morning hours, just one or two after he had been
satisfied by Lilith. The dorm was quiet now that Ron had learned to silence his curtains
nightly. It was darker than normal, but Harry found himself able to see easily enough as he
sat up in the bed and sent a glance toward the window. The curtains were open, as they often
were, to allow a little star and moonlight in. Currently, though, heavy storm clouds blanketed
the sky. Occasionally, some ways off, a flash of lightning lit the sky too, but he couldn't see
any that occurred overhead with a few minutes of watching.

He was restless. Not really rested, though he knew he would be alright thanks to the new
well-set Runes and powers he got from Lilith, but Harry was still filled with nervous energy,
and knew he would not get back to sleep. The clock read three-sixteen in the morning, but as
his bed was empty Harry knew there was still one other being awake in the castle, "Lilith?
You busy?"

The reply was a moment coming, "Not to busy to shag you, Master. I'll be there in a few
moments."

Harry nodded to himself, then stood up suddenly. He was moving for his trunk to get dressed
as he sent another command instead, "No, don't come here. At least not yet. Meet me in front
of the Slytherin Common Room in about... ten minutes. I need to get a few things before I
head down."

With her affirmative response, Harry let his mind change instead to the course of action he
had suddenly decided on.

A few minutes later, with his cloak on over casual muggle clothes rather than his school
uniform and wand in hand, Harry checked the Marauder's Map for a few key names, then left
the dorm room. His first goal was reached quickly, and as the enchantments and defenses had
been set to, they let him into the Suite without question or password needed. There, he was
faced with a choice. Predictably, the Map had shown Daphne and Tracey asleep in the same
bed, while Pansy and Astoria now shared the master bedroom that had once been his to leave
the last room open for Millicent if the girl needed it.

He could wake up the lovers... or Pansy. Astoria would do too, he knew, but he didn't want to
risk any of them being upset if he woke them. Without knowing how light a sleeper any of
them were but Pansy, he moved to the right first.

The bedroom was much as it was when he had left it, only with a second trunk, no doubt
Astoria's, next to one of the privacy screens. Some of the decor had been changed magically
from red and gold to green and silver, but these days Harry found himself not minding at all.
On the bed itself, he could clearly see with the light of a single candle that Astoria and Pansy
were deeply asleep.

The older girl was on her right side, facing the edge of the bed and nearly hanging off of it.
She, at least, had most of the blankets. Harry wasn't sure if that was a fair trade for how much
of the bed was being hogged by Astoria Greengrass, but at least it was something. The
younger witch's left leg was uncovered nearly to her waist, and the loose camisole she wore
to bed did little to conceal a chest that, while smaller than her older sister's by a fair margin,
was already quite adequate.

While awake, he knew Astoria to be a walking contradiction in many ways. She was
energetic, cheerful, and full of life and vigor and fun. All of that was interspersed with
moments of quiet, calm, placidity, a shyness that Harry was starting to think were the
moments when Astoria allowed herself to be down, allowing herself to feel depressed or sad
about the curse that still seemed likely to kill her. She had received three treatments now
from the muggle healers that identified the curse as a form of Leukemia, and each time she
had been tired and sore for days after. She had kept her luxurious golden-blonde hair, though,
which Hermione had posited privately to him as a likely response of accidental magic. Still,
she was almost always vivacious and full of energy, and never seemed to want to sit still
unless she was playing chess (which she loved almost as much as Ron).

In sleep, Astoria was an entirely different being. She breathed deeply and softly, slowly, and
was nearly motionless. Clearly relaxed, the fourteen year old girl's face was gently smiling
into her pillow, and the hand outside of the sheets she had wrested back from Pansy, all that
really covered her, flexed and twitched occasionally. He watched as the exposed leg shifted,
and wondered exactly how far up they went...

And caught himself. He wasn't fifteen, anymore.

Astoria... was off limits. She was too young, and he had promised Daphne.

He couldn't look, couldn't let himself want her.

As he tore his eyes away with a grunt, he heard a soft, "Harry?"

"O- Oh, Pansy. Er... hi. D'you, um, know the Slytherin password, still?"
"The what?" She blinked, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and then sat up, heedless that the blankets
fell to expose her tits.

Harry blinked and stared for a moment, then repeated, "The password for the Slytherin
common room. I... have some business I need to take care of."

Still half asleep, Pansy demonstrated her nature by quickly deducing what he was after. Her
eyes narrowed into shadows, "Are you going for revenge?"

That question brought Harry up short. Was he?

He certainly wanted to punish those responsible for hurting his friends. Wanted it desperately,
in fact. But... no, "No," he said, "I... I won't lie and say it hasn't crossed my mind, but I'm
going to get information. I want to know why. What they're after, if any of them have been in
contact with Malfoy or Nott."

Pansy looked up at him for a moment, her eyes slowly becoming clearer, then nodded,
"Alright. It's Umbra Venitas."

Harry blinked too, "Shadows come?"

Pansy only shrugged, "Close enough, I s'- s'pose. Anything else? I'm, um... well, I'm tired, but
if you want..."

Harry grinned at her for just being bold enough to ask, but as he rounded the bed to lean
down over the girl, he murmured, "Don't want to wake Astoria, and I don't have a lot of time.
Thanks, my love. I'll see you tomorr- well, in the morning."

"Alright. Good night, Harry. I... I love you."

The kiss was gentle and sweet, and Harry felt his lips longing for his former enemy the
moment he pulled away, "I'll see you at breakfast, if not before."

After a quick second check of the map, Harry hurried down toward the dungeon entrance to
the snake's den. Lilith was already there, of course. He moved quickly as he could under the
cloak while still remaining invisible and silent, but as he did Harry wondered what it was
about Lilith that superseded the map's powerful identification enchantments. He always knew
where Lilith was, it was part of their bond. But the name he had seen waiting was not Lilith,
or whatever the Succubus' real name was. It was Lyra. He simply had never noticed before. If
he changed form, using her powers, would the map register him as Iris...?

If so, that was a huge advantage. If Hermione's theory that the map's abilities were tied into
the wards and protections of the castle itself, then Dumbledore could likely find out the same
information it held in his own way. That wasn't necessarily a risk, because Harry trusted the
Headmaster, but he also now knew that the old man was, indeed, as fallible as he claimed.
And if he could fool the map, fool Hogwarts, then... who couldn't he fool?

Despite being invisible, Harry watched Lyra's dark eyes track him as he closed the distance
between them, and she opened her arms to accept his hug and kiss with perfect timing, too,
"Can you see through the cloak...?"

"No," the Succubus said with a shrug, "I just knew where you were and felt your mood. I still
can't see you. What are we doing here? Extracting Milly?"

"No," he replied, "We're here for information. I don't want you to intervene with your powers
unless I'm losing control. I'm... Honestly, I'm probably going to hurt at least one of them. As
long as I'm not in danger of maiming or killing them... don't stop me. If I am going to cause
real harm, then step in, please. I'm trying not to turn this into a revenge mission."

"Alright," Lyra acknowledged, and her form shifted to resemble a nondescript girl, "I can do
that."

"I mean what I said about not using your powers on them unless you have to, though. I don't
want them to even know you're there, and by now I'm sure someone has put it together. Be
invisible, and try not to talk. You can talk to me mentally, though, if you have any thoughts."

"Yes, Master," she cooed, then added with a grin, "Have I mentioned recently how sexy it is
when you take charge like this?"

He smiled back, "Not recently, but thanks. Alright, let's go... Umbra Venitas."

The wall bled open slowly, and the pair stepped inside the green-tinted room.

It looked much as it had in Harry's second year, though less cluttered. Clearly, the House
Elves had already been through as everything was where it should be instead of scattered
willy-nilly. There were a set of doors he suspected led to Snape's- no, Slughorn's offices, the
larger bathrooms used by the whole House, and of course the doorways leading to the
dormitories on the right, beyond the huge glass window that looked out into the lake.

The Slytherins' set-up was quite different than the Gryffindors, with both male and female
students being down the same hall, but each gender had their own wing through fifth year,
and the N.E.W.T.-level students were able to choose their own dorm-mates from either
gender. All in all, he suspected it was a setup designed specifically to allow the House of the
Cunning to use their bodies to curry favor. It had been that way, according to Pansy, for
generations even if not all that many actually did so often. Usually, according to her, the only
cross-gendered dorm mates were couples, and no one really cared if they were intimate. He
had been able to enter Pansy's dorm months earlier for the same reason: It was expected that
even the fourth and fifth year Slytherin girls might want to 'buy' or 'sell' some form of favor,
thus it was allowed.

Now, though, he had another objective, "Can you direct me to where Crabbe's room is, love?"

"Of course, Master. Should I ensure everyone else in the dorms is quite asleep and unable to
interrupt...? I'll need a shag for that much reach, but it can wait until tomorrow."

"Please. I might need to relax after this, so it shouldn't have to wait long."
He felt the magic wash over him as they stopped in the four-way intersection, ballooning
outward into each and every room. The wave was powerful, a combination, he thought, of
drowsiness and lust that would put everyone in range into a deep, wet-dreaming state if they
were old enough, and a blissful, happy one if not. Then he saw his translucent Succubus drift
forward into the older years' hallway, "Not far, just a few doors up on the left. He's with...
Zabini, I think his name is. The handsome, dark-skinned one."

Harry nodded, and sent an affirmative feeling through their bond as he followed after. Inside,
the room was a bit of a mess. Food wrappers, plates, silverware, and a few cups were stacked
up on several surfaces along with clothes and textbooks. At least, on one side. The other was
fastidiously clean. It didn't take Harry long to identify which side belonged to which of the
young wizards, either, "Put Zabini even deeper, please," Harry whispered.

Another, smaller but more potent burst of magic later, and Harry turned toward the larger
lump, which sagged into the bed. His wand came up, just protruding from the folds of the
invisibility cloak, and he whispered, "Stupefy."

Once the red jet of light connected with his target, Harry turned his wand toward the rest of
the room and cast several other spells. He silenced the walls, floors, ceiling, and door, then
locked that before making the wood swell in the frame to make it even harder to open. Then
he transfigured the stone around it to add a bit of a door jamb, too, on both sides. Finally, a
quick Muffling Charm on just his side of the room, and Harry got to the real work.

"Incarcerous. Ennervate. Vox Larvus."

It had taken asking Hermione about the spell the mysterious 'broom-closet girl' (or girls, as he
now knew), to learn it himself. But now that he did, Harry was confident that invisible, his
voice altered, and his enemy quite helpless without his wand, bound, and about to be
Confunded, Crabbe was no threat at all.

"Whozzat?" the large young man growled, "Lemme go! Blaise! Blaise, we're under attack!"

"Blaise Zabini cannot help you," Harry growled, and cast another spell, "Levicorpus!" A
sticking charm followed, and a moment later, upside-down, Vincent Crabbe hit the wall with
a grunt. He stayed there, held in place by magic alone, "Here's what's going to happen,
Vincent Crabbe. You are going to answer my questions. You can do it easily, or you can
suffer before doing it. That's it. You answer, I leave. You fight me, you lose, answer, and I
leave. No other options. Understand?"

"Go suck on a troll todger, you son of a muggle," Crabbe growled. He strained and pulled
against the restraints, against the magical glue holding him to the wall, but the only thing he
accomplished was making his face even redder as more blood rushed to it.

"Very well, the hard way to start. Concusso, " it wasn't a strong spell, among the weakest of
the bludgeoning, and impact-related hexes, and Harry was hardly putting the full force of his
magic behind it. But Crabbe had no way to dodge, and no defense. When the spell impacted
his stomach, he let out a whuff of air.
"A very small taste, Vincent Crabbe. Next time will be much harder. Tell me, why did you
conspire with several of your House-mates to attack Luna Lovegood, of all people?"

"I ain' sayin' shite to you, muggle-lover! The girl's loony, she don' matter non-"

Harry had not lied. His next spell was a lot stronger, and the concussive blast made Crabbe
shake and ripple against the wall, "Answer."

He was not struggling any longer to escape, but Crabbe still glared upside-down at Harry for
several seconds before he growled, "Bint's siding with Potter, and we figured we'd teach 'em
all a lesson and 'ave some fun, like we used to wif- er, never you mind."

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped closer. The bed stank, it had clearly been some time since
House Elves had cleaned anything in this part of the room, and the sheets were no exception.
But he forced the revulsion down as he leaned over the bed and set his wand against the
Slytherin's nose. Almost casually, he said, "You know, that low-powered blast? The first one?
At this range, what do you think that'd do to your skull? I bet it'd make a pretty red painting
on the wall. But that's almost too good for you, isn't it, Vincent Crabbe? And don't you
worry... I already know all about how you've been 'having some fun' with your old pals,
Gregory Goyle and Draco Malfoy. We can skip that part... did you have anything to do with
killing Mandy Brocklehurst?"

"No," Crabbe shouted, no doubt in another effort to try and wake some form of help, "We- we
was all pissed our fun was gone!"

Harry got a mental snort from Lilith, and he scowled, "That just makes you jealous, greedy,
and pathetic. But I believe you, sadly. Were you involved in kidnapping Mandy
Brocklehurst?"

"Fuck you!"

The next concussion was strong too, and delivered to Goyle's left knee. Harry was rather
pleased at the rapid-fire snapping sounds as the bones broke beneath his wand, and even
more so at the screams of pain, "Answer," he said again.

"Careful, Master. That's getting into dangerous territory."

Glad she was there to help reign him in, Harry nodded, "Thanks."

Then, aloud, "Answer, Crabbe... or I take out the other knee, next. After that, it's your groin."

"What's a gro-"

"I mean I'll fucking bludgeon you in the balls until they explode, you dimwit," Harry snarled,
his patience, what little was left, vanishing.

Fortunately, that seemed to have some effect. Even upside-down, furious, Crabbe's face paled
noticeably, "Er... W- We all did, y- yeah. Me, Goyle, an' Malfoy. He said it was to get her
help to fix somethin'. And we could enjoy her in the meantime!"
Harry nodded before remembering he was beneath the cloak. It matched the other
information he had, at least, "Did you, or were you, involved in kidnapping Isabella Ross?"

Now, Crabbe scowled again, "No! Malfoy said we was useless, and we didn't deserve ter
have any fun with the prettier one. Told us to 'stick our noses out of 'is business', he did."

That was interesting, at least, "What about Vicky Frobisher?"

"No," Crabbe growled again, "We all think that was Nott."

Again, it matched his suspicions, but all the negative answers were only telling Harry what
wasn't, not what was. Still, for completion, he had to ask, "Romilda Vane?"

"That cunt's got noffin' to do with any of us," Crabbe growled, "She fuckin' slapped me for
askin' for a kiss las' year!"

"I'd do worse," Harry growled again, his voice low and threatening as it could be underneath
the voice-masking charm, "What else have you planned to 'get some revenge'?"

"Noffin'!

Harry set his wand against the other knee, "Really? Nothing?"

"No!"

There was a slight tremble to the voice that told Harry his captive was, in fact, quite near to
breaking completely. There was still a spark of resistance in him, though, "I don't believe
you. Concu-"

"Wait! Wait!"

Harry stopped mid-word, "Well?"

"We- we was gonna- was gonna get Parkinson, Greengrass, an' her sister, an' do 'em, too.
Make 'em wan' us, not- not Potter."

"Interesting. Well, you've already failed at that. Nothing you could do would have that effect.
Still... maybe a warning to make sure you never do something so idiotic again. Concusso."

This one was milder, and though Harry still felt the knee break, it was nowhere near as loud
as the first one had been. Still, Crabbe whimpered, and Harry was almost proud that he could
now see tears running down the wizard's forehead, "I fuckin' answered..."

"As I said, that was a warning not to do something so foolish. The next one will still be in
your groin, though... so be honest. Do you know where Draco Malfoy is?"

This response was fast, almost too fast, "No! No one of us knows, he's gone from the castle!"

Unfortunately, as Harry raised his wand to make sure, Lilith piped up in his head, "He's being
honest, Master. As far as he knows, no one in the castle knows where Malfoy is. Likely, he's
either with Voldy or hiding from him and you both."

Harry growled, "One last question, then. Do you know the whereabouts of Theodore Nott, or
what he's planning?"

This one was a little slower to come, and it was answered with a question, delivered with a
pained voice, "Teddy?"

"Yes," Harry growled.

"I ain' seen or 'eard nothin' in a few weeks," Crabbe moaned, "please don' hex my bits! I'll tell
you what I know, it jus' ain' much!"

"Speak, then."

"W- we las' 'eard he was doin' somefin' fer- fer th' Dark Lord. Official, importan' business.
He's been given some stuff. Powerful, old magic or summat, an' we don' know any more! Not
where 'e is, or wha' e's doin'! Please!"

"Lilith?"

Her reply was immediate, "Unfortunately, true."

"Very well," Harry lowered his wand slightly, and sent a trio of weaker bludgeoners into
Crabbe's stomach in a short line across, "A final warning. If you even think about putting one
hair out of line for the rest of your time in Hogwarts, your balls will feel a thousand times
worse, only to get fixed, and have it happen again. And that's just the first night out of a
hundred. Am I clear, Vincent Crabbe? You do nothing to anyone. You do your homework,
you study, you learn... and you leave alive. If you harm one person even the slightest bit, if
you plan to harm someone, if you curse at someone without a wand... you will suffer, and
then you will die. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Crabbe whimpered, "Please..."

"Good. Stupefy."

Once the boy was unconscious again, he let him fall to the bed but left the ropes there. He
would survive a few more hours until Blaise Zabini woke and removed them, at least, "Come
on, my love," Harry whispered, and led the way out.

Back in the main parts of the castle a few minutes later, Harry was stopped by Lilith, once
more in the body he now recognized was his mother's, as she pulled him into a hug. He did
not realize until she started kissing away his tears that he had been crying. For the third time
he fell asleep cuddling against Lily Potter. Even then, what little sleep he got in the wee hours
of the morning were fitful and filled with nightmarish visions of himself in the place of
Voldemort.
 Ring(s) of Remorse

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 111 there... in fact I'm about to start the second book in the series,
which begins with what would be this fic's Ch. 112. Am I aiming for 333 (3x3)? No. But it
might hit that anyway. lol

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, if you recall I mentioned a while back that chapters would be getting shorter. I think
this is the last of the longer ones.

Chap. 74: Ring(s) of Remorse

Harry was still scrubbing himself in the shower after forty minutes. The fluids Lilith had left
all over him- for fun she said, though he knew she gained no sustenance from her own- had
been easy enough to clean, and not only because Harry had scooped up more than a little to
add to the meal she'd already squirted into his mouth, while wearing the body of his mother.

As hot as that had been, as nice as shagging Lily Potter had been the night before, he still
felt... dirty. Unclean. And not because of the pseudo-incest, either. If anything, Harry could
admit to himself that he liked that part.

But no amount of scrubbing, no matter how raw his hands and arms were, would erase the
guilt he felt. Yes, Crabbe had deserved some kind of punishment for at least partially
orchestrating and largely instigating the attack on Luna. Yes, he deserved some kind of
punishment for kidnapping and raping Mandy Brocklehurst (for which Harry still felt guilt,
knowing that he could have freed her, even if doing so would have gone against the victim's
expressed wishes).

But he did not deserve to be tortured.

He sighed, alone in the shower mostly because he had asked to be, and let his head rest
against the tiled wall while the scalding hot water sprayed down onto his lower back. It
helped, at least, to ease the tension there... if not much. It was, he decided, something he
would have to carry for the rest of his life. That guilt, that knowledge that he would resort to
such tactics if pushed too far, was a heavy weight for someone that many others looked on as
a paragon of virtue, a hero in every sense of the word.

He, of course, had always known better. He knew who Harry Potter really was, better than
anyone. That didn't mean Harry liked who he was the night before. It didn't mean he wanted
to do it again. He hated that he'd been pushed so far, even if it still felt... justified, in a way.
That was part of the worst bit for him: How very right it made him feel, even as he was
ashamed of his actions.
A wiser person, Dumbledore or Lilith or Hermione perhaps, might tell him that it was that
very shame, that remorse, that proved he was better. But he still didn't really regret it. He
would do it again, in an instant, for the results it had given. So, in his eyes, Harry Potter was
no hero.

He would never be one.

And he was alright with that. Yes, he was guilty of a crime... he was a vigilante, as the
Ministry had been calling the Order of the Phoenix all the previous year. He was, when he
acted like that, outside the law. Extrajudicial, Hermione called it. "So be it," the young wizard
whispered, opening his eyes for the first time in several minutes. He looked down at his
hands, which splayed against the tile to help support him. They didn't look different than the
day before, aside from the red and raw skin.

He was different, there was no doubt about that. But he was also what he had been made by
others, and by his own choices.

He would live with that. He could live with that... as long as he remembered why he didn't
want to travel down that dark road, Harry thought he could resist the siren's call. And if not,
as Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Lilith, and even Lavender had all told him at one point or another...
they would be there to help him back. He would, and could, live with that, too.

"On to the day, then," Harry murmured, then stood tall once more, took several deep breaths
to let the rest of his tension out with the old air, and finished his shower.

Once he returned to the dorm, Harry found Ron and Neville being woken with blowjobs in
their own right. Neville, always easier to rouse, had shifted so his legs were off the bed and
was leaning back on his elbows with the bustier, older form of Lilith between his knees. His
best friend, on the other hand, was being woken by someone who surprised him: Lavender
Brown. She was, unlike Lilith, fully dressed and looking immaculate while she bobbed on
Ron's long dick.

Ron still looked like he was asleep, though he was smiling softly and his hand was on the
blonde's head, but he groaned and muttered, "Why'd you stop?" when Lavender looked up at
Harry. "Harry," his slave chirped happily, "Professor McGonagall asked me to pass on a
message from the Headmaster. Uh... it was, 'please come to my office as soon as you are able.
We have an urgent matter to attend to. Bring your new friend.' She also mentioned that
Dumbledore likes, uh... Sour Lemondrops."

"Ah, thanks, Lavender," Harry said, his whole posture shifting from relief straight to combat
readiness. "You get back to sucking Ron off like a good girl. Try not to leave a bloke
hanging, alright? And you lot, plans are still on for a Rune Ritual this afternoon or tonight,
whenever we can. Unless something else happens, of course. Well try to keep in touch."

"Right," Ron grunted as he pulled Lavender's head back into his lap. "I'll let Hermione and
the others know, Harry."

"Alright. See you, mate, Slave."

As Harry turned away, Lilith falling into step behind him invisibly, Lavender sighed with
bliss both at her title being used, and Neville sliding his fat cock between her thighs with her
skirt flipped up but tights still on.

"Do you understand the plan, Harry? Miss Sendai?" Dumbledore's look was grave, as serious
as Harry had ever seen him outside of a battlefield, just as it had been since he and Lilith had
arrived at the Headmaster's office nearly an hour earlier.

"Yes, of course," Lilith, currently Lyra and visible once more, nodded. She was surprisingly
chipper, considering the danger they were supposedly heading into. But, Harry reasoned, she
at least had no real reason to fear. It was extremely unlikely that defenses Voldemort had set
up decades ago would be able to do much to her, specifically, besides send her home.

And pain, he had learned thanks to the Succubus herself, could lead to pleasure, too. He was
worried... but only to a point. Mostly, what Harry felt was excitement. They would be visiting
the shack Dumbledore had shown he and Lilith much earlier in the school year, the home of
the Gaunt family. More specifically, it was the home of Merope Gaunt: Voldemort's own
mother.

The hedge-witch's history and life story were depressing, and Harry had felt a huge wash of
pity for her when he had first seen the memories Dumbledore had shown them, and learned
of her sad tale. But in the intervening months, Harry had learned even more. Yes, Merope
Gaunt was to be pitied... but she was also a villain in her own right.

Whatever her motivations, she had done, in many ways, far worse than Harry in using Fog of
Lust against Daphne, Pansy, Lavender, and others. It was worse even in some ways than what
he had done to Romilda Vane, if only by accident. Merope Gaunt, after all, had really, well
and truly, destroyed Tom Riddle Sr.'s ability to consent, then raped him repeatedly, enslaved
him to her will.

While part of Harry also rebelled against the actions of Voldemort's muggle father- for who
could abandon their own child, no matter how dark the circumstances of their conception?
Harry wasn't sure he even wanted to know- he also understood. He, possibly, would have
done the same.

Likely not, but possibly.

That Voldemort had hidden the Gaunt family ring there, at his family's hovel, seemed in
many ways unlikely, too. Merope Gaunt was barely above a squib, according to the
Headmaster. On the other hand, the Gaunts were also well and truly descended from Salazar
Slytherin himself, thus making Voldemort, the last living member of that family, a true Heir
of Slytherin, as the bloody messages Ginny Weasley had been forced to leave on the walls of
Hogwarts five years ago had attested.

That connection alone would have convinced Harry, with all he knew of Voldemort, that it
was a sacred location to him. A hovel, perhaps. A reminder of misery, perhaps. Certainly not
a reminder of family, of ties that Harry himself would value. But that legacy, his one and true
claim to fame aside from the darkest of deeds...
No, that was something Voldemort would definitely find value in. As well, Harry could see
the logic in hiding an object of such value as the Gaunt Ring... or more specifically, a
Horcrux inside the ring, in a place of relative unknown stature. Hardly anyone knew where
the Gaunts lived when they resided there. Now, Harry would bet a thousand Galleons that
knowledge was limited to less than five people, three of which were in the Headmaster's
office. Why would someone bother searching a out of the way, run-down, even dilapidated
hovel (especially one likely to have all sorts of magical protections against such prying) for
an object of incredible significance?

It was like finding a needle in a haystack the size of a planet.

All the more impressed with Dumbledore's detective work, for he was certain now that there
was a Horcrux there, Harry nodded too. "Yes, Sir. I'll follow instructions."

"Excellent. Remember, Harry, Miss Sendai: I have said that you must flee if I instruct you to
do so for a reason. I am not the one mentioned in the prophecy. You, Harry, must survive if
we are to defeat Voldemort. My life, as much as I do not yet wish to lose it, is of no value
compared to yours. It is a harsh calculus, but an accurate one. I hope you understand."

Harry swallowed. It was difficult past the lump that had just formed, but he nodded all the
same. "I... Understand, Sir. I... I'll do my best."

"I will make sure he flees if that is what it takes," Lyra added, "I cannot complete my contract
if he dies, either. And, no offense to you, Headmaster, but I'd rather you be the one to take a
spell if it comes down to it, for more personal reasons."

Despite the fact that Lyra had just said she'd rather he died if anyone, Dumbledore nodded
with a happy smile of his own, "Thank you. That is exactly what I wanted to hear. Now... if
you'd please, both of you take hold of this quill, here..."

Then, with a woosh, and a whirlwind of sound, color, and light, the too-familiar hook behind
Harry's navel pulled he, the Succubus, and the Headmaster far outside of Hogwarts, to the
outskirts of the distant down of Little Hangleton.

The three of them appeared half-way up the south-eastern side of a short, wide valley covered
in woods that were speckled with pastures. Dotted throughout but mostly concentrated down
at the center were small, modest homes of the type a tourist would likely associate with the
'English countryside'. Harry was no expert, but he thought he recognized Elizabethan cottages
mostly toward the edges or in the pasture and farmlands, while a slight majority of the houses
in the village itself were of the more modern Victorian style.

Like Dumbledore and Lyra, Harry let his eyes rake over the valley to get his bearings for a
moment before something caught his attention and held it. Almost directly opposite them,
slightly higher, a large, white manor house presided over the lesser homes. At first glance, it
looked mighty and noble, the home of a benevolent lord. But with just a moment more, Harry
could see even from here that several windows were damaged, the walls overgrown with ivy.
The garden was unkempt, wild, the walls themselves showing visible wear, and several
shutters or shingles were out of place or missing.
Half-way down the hillside from the manor, another sight captured Harry's eyes the moment
he tore them from the old Riddle House. Old, even ancient trees, possibly the oldest in the
valley, surrounded a partially cleared area. In an uneven rectangle, in one of the least sloped
areas, the trees in the middle were more sparse, and carefully arranged to allow for foot-
paths. Wide, barely-kept swaths of grass were dotted with marble, basalt, sandstone, and even
a few darker ones that Harry thought might have been onyx. Headstones, he realized.

"That's the graveyard," he whispered.

"That is is," Dumbledore replied softly, following Harry's eyes, "and the Riddle House
beyond. I had hoped bringing you here might help. Seeing things we once feared in the dark
of night, revealed for what they are in the light of the sun, can be most healthy. Seeing it
'normal', at any rate. What do you think, Harry? Have I erred...?"

The younger wizard was silent for several seconds, then shook his head, "No. No, I don't
think you did, sir. It... it's giving me the chills just looking at it, but... but it's just a graveyard.
Nothing... special about it. Except what happened there? Only..."

He trailed off, and neither his pet or headmaster interrupted or probed further. Eventually, he
finished with, "What happened there... happened. I can't change it. But I also can't... let it
hold me back. I feel like if it happened again... if I was there again, now? It would end
differently. I don't know if that would be better or worse, but it would be different. I would be
more willing to fight. I'd probably die. But maybe, just maybe, I'd take out a few of them
with me. That might help, too. Either way, I've learned I shouldn't dwell too much on what
happened. I should do what I can do make the future better, instead."

"Well said, Master," Lyra chirped, before stretching onto her toes to kiss Harry's cheek. She
took his hand as she settled, taking care to leave his wand-hand free. "What's next? Where's
the shack?"

Dumbledore watched the interaction with amusement, adding, "I agree with Miss Sendai,
Harry. That was indeed well said. To answer your question, I believe the next step would be
to find that very place. I have only been here once, many years ago, but I believe we shall
find it about... there. Just up the lane, where the undergrowth is thickest."

Harry followed the old man's pointing finger. Perhaps it was his own growing talent, or
perhaps the bond he shared with Lilith. Maybe it was even the saturation of magic in the air,
but something about the thick leaves and branches of hundreds of bushes, shrubs, flowers,
and trees in the vicinity of Dumbledore's point just felt... off to Harry. As if he most assuredly
would be foolish to get closer, and more so to step into the area itself. He took a single step
back as he had the thought, then realized...

"Repelling charm...?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore commented, glancing down at him with a measure of pride, "Keyed to
magicals and muggles and animals alike, I would wager. Aside from perhaps serpents, which
I suspect may have been compelled to guard the place."

"It'd be something he would do," Harry agreed.

"Hm. Disillusionment for now, I think," Dumbledore murmured, then tapped Harry's and his
own heads with his wand. "Miss Sendai, if you would vanish...? This road is not commonly
used judging by the old ruts, but there is still some foot traffic I believe. It would not do to be
spotted."

"Of course," Lyra said, then turned hazy and indistinct to Harry's eyes. To Dumbledore, he
knew she would have vanished as completely as if she were under his own cloak, which was
tucked safely inside his robes, just in case.

"Very well. Keep your hand on my arm, if you would, Harry. Miss Sendai, of course you will
keep contact with young Harry. I will take the lead, I think... there are a great many wards
and protections here. A simple repelling charm is but the outer layer. We should be cautious.
In particular, Harry, if you would keep an ear out for sibilant speech...?"

Harry nodded, before remembering Dumbledore couldn't see him, "Yes, sir. I'll be on the
watch for any snakes."

"And if Miss Sendai could keep her senses alert for other beings nearby...?"

"Of course."

"Then let us proceed."

Harry, in later times, dearly wished he could have seen the artwork of spellcraft and magic
that Dumbledore must have weaved. He heard a great many swishes of a wand through the
air, many murmured words and incantations. They proceeded at a normal walking pace at
first, but from the start the headmaster was detecting, identifying, and dispelling
enchantments and wards by the drove.

As they neared the spot where, to Harry's eyes, a thin, twisting, almost nightmarishly
overgrown path led off the main one into the worst of the thicket, their progress slowed by
half. In fact, for a moment Dumbledore stopped there, hummed quietly to himself for a
moment, and with the next incantation Harry felt the air itself seem to vibrate around him.
Ahead, the atmosphere seemed thick, malevolent, while behind lay safety and security. He
wanted to flee. He needed to breathe!

Then, with a sound like a glass wind-chime shattering, the feeling was gone. What was left
was... different. The place felt, if anything less safe, more dangerous, but the overpowering
need to flee was absent. The dark, hooked branches of the trees and shrubs were, while wild
and unkempt, mundane wood and leaves. The path still twisted, was still shadowed, but those
shadows were no longer menacing and foreboding... only a bit dark.

"What was that?" Lyra asked quietly. "It felt... horrible."

"A ward of fear," Dumbledore rasped, his voice quiet and hoarse from several minutes of
talking rapidly. "A very powerful one, capable of conjuring up the worst of what we expect to
see. Similar, in many ways, to both a Boggart and a Dementor. Yet it is gone, now, and I, for
one, feel better for it. We can proceed. I will remind you to be alert, stay cautious. If I am
acting strangely... flee."
Harry nodded resolutely, "Yes, sir. I... remember what you said. Should Lyra go to her combat
form...?"

"I don't think that will be strictly necessary," Dumbledore replied, "but I suppose it would not
hurt."

"I would feel better," Lyra murmured, and behind him, her hand still clutched in Harry's
grew, the outer portions regaining the chitinous shell of her Hellhide power. "If nothing else, I
can respond quicker to a threat."

They moved in the same order into the smaller path, and this time Dumbledore's free hand
occasionally pulled Harry to the left, or right, to help guide him around what felt like
invisible threads of silk. Yet, when Harry reached out to touch one, he felt a sharp pain in his
fingertip. A glance told him it was bloody. "Razorfang spider silk," Dumbledore commented
when Harry pointed it out, "you can see it if you are careful. A most ingenious trap- not
magical in itself, aside from its incredible strength, yet because it is so thin it cuts like any
blade with but a touch. I lost a few inches of my beard before I noticed myself, and I believe
my robes will need replacing or significant repair when we return to Hogwarts."

No doubt sensing Harry's grimace at the image, Dumbledore chuckled as he moved on, "Ah,
not to worry, Harry. I am yet clothed, I just have many slashes cut in them. I have gone as
cautiously as I could, but I do not wish to linger, either. The sooner we are done, the better. I
fear I may have missed an alarm ward earlier. If Voldemort comes calling..."

"We flee," Harry finished.

"Just so. Ah, I believe we are clear of the webs. Again, watch for serpents... there is the
shack. Yes, it still has the remains of Morfin's snake nailed to the door."

It was in just the sort of horrible disrepair Harry had imagined it. A single room, lopsided,
leaning as if it might fall in on itself or cover the remains of Merope's vegetable and herb
garden at any moment, the last home of the once-mighty Gaunt family seemed a poor reward
for a noble house. Yet, Harry also felt it deserved, if their constant inbreeding and darkness
had lead them down this path. Even if he knew it was strange that he was encouraging Ron
and Ginny to shag, yet condemned the Gaunts, and many other pureblood houses, for keeping
their bloodlines too close. There was a difference, he felt, in doing it for fun with no risk of
creating a child with defects, or that would be forever marred by the actions of their parents,
and running that risk solely to maintain the much-vaunted 'purity' of their magical blood.

Daphne had, by that point, convinced him that purity was not a bad thing, but Harry still felt
that the supremacists like the Malfoys, and the other Death Eaters, had taken the philosophy
much too far. Not least of which because Voldemort himself was hardly a pure-blood, no
matter his lineage on the magical side.

Just as the headmaster had said, the skeletal remains of Morfin's pet snake, held together by
the barest scraps of ancient sinew, still adorned the door. There were no window-panes, only
shutters falling off the rusted hinges, and open frames. The door itself was shut, and
shimmered with even more magic than the rest of the shack. That alone made the hedges
outside look tame. "That's... a lot of defenses," Harry observed.
"It is, yes," Dumbledore noted, "but I see a distinct lack of creativity. There are many wards,
but aside from the spider-silk and possible snake dangers, they are relatively common. A
curse-breaker team could dismantle the lot within an hour, I would say. I shall begin. Once
again, please keep an eye out. I suspect that if there are serpent defenders, they will attack
quickly once I begin, likely hoping to capitalize on my distraction."

Harry felt another tap on his head, and a few seconds later both he and the old wizard were
visible again. Dumbledore did indeed have several cuts and minor lacerations on the sleeves
of his robes and legs, but even while he saw blood Harry knew none were truly dangerous.
He thought the spider-silk was indeed meant to be lethal, but the old man's reaction time was
quite good, and he was as keen-eyed as ever despite the spectacles he wore.

Dumbledore then strode to the center of the small yard and aimed his wand toward the house
again. Words flowed from his lips in an unbroken litany, their tone alternating from
conversational to deep and powerful, high and soft, something reminiscent of phoenix song,
to a pipe organ, then harp music, or angelic choirs. The shimmering around the hovel itself
grew more intense, like a heat-mirage almost, as Voldemort's defenses combatted
Dumbledore's own spells, but there was no great light show. No dazzling magic to feast his
eyes on.

He was almost disappointed... when he spotted the first snake. It was small, just a foot or so
long, and likely not even poisonous. It slithered toward the headmaster quickly, though.
Deliberately. "There's one," he pointed it out to the still invisible, battle-ready Succubus.
Then, switching to Parseltongue, Harry commanded, "Stop."

The snake hesitated, slowed briefly, and even looked in his direction. It did not stop,
however, and in just a few moments had resumed its rapid movement toward the tall wizard
nearby. "Stop," Harry commanded again, more firmly, and lifted his wand.

This time, the Snake only looked toward him again without slowing. It was about six feet
from the headmaster, and would reach him in moments. What it would do then, Harry did not
know. Perhaps Voldemort had enchanted the snake to be deadly, or bred it with another type.
Either way, he knew that the determined creature could not be allowed to bite Dumbledore.
With a sigh, he aimed carefully, "Stupefy."

His jet of red light hit the snake dead-on. Even a narrow target like that, from five feet away,
was an easy enough thing for him. It jerked, rolled half onto its side as the energy hit it, then
went still.

He watched... it twitched. Then it wiggled. Then it rolled, and started slithering again, this
time toward him.

"Not enough power, Master," Lilith chided gently, then reached down with one cloven hoof
and smashed the thing. "I applaud your kindness to animals, but it seems these ones are
resistant to magic."

Dumbledore had glanced briefly in their direction during the interaction, but seemed to think
Harry and Lilith together were up to the task, for his full attention was back on dismantling
Voldemort's enchantments. Unfortunately, that first, small snake was just one of several.
Hundreds, in fact, that Harry suddenly spotted all around the shack, the garden, and the
wilder growth beyond. "Oh, crap... Sir?"

"I believe you can handle this, Harry. I must concentrate for a few minutes longer, else I am
afraid I will have to start over with stronger protections enabled. Call me again if you have
desperate need, however."

Harry frowned. It was very nice, in a way, to have the old wizard's complete trust. To know
that Dumbledore believed in him even at the risk and safety of his own life. Yet, it would
have been nice to have his help. That was a lot of snakes!

Of course, they could not oblige by coming in singly, either. The next assault was a mere
eight. Passionfire was launched quickly from Lilith's clawed hands, which took out five of
them between the two bursts of eldritch flame, and the next three were taken out by Harry's
spell-work. He was already starting to worry, though, because no sooner had that first wave
been slain than Harry saw twelve more coming right behind them. A third wave followed,
even more of them. Beyond, he could see the great mass of them, with still more appearing
every moment, inching slower closer, too.

The waves were growing in size, getting closer, and moving faster.

They were screwed, in other words, unless the situation changed. One wave had been easily
handled. But long discussions of Quidditch strategy, chess strategy, and combat strategy with
Ron and, this year, the large-scale battle tactics Dumbledore himself had taught Harry in
DADA classes that by the fifth or maybe sixth wave, they would be overwhelmed. At least
one of them would be bitten. By the tenth, they all would have suffered injuries, and one
might have fallen.

By the fifteenth... it would be over.

And there were now hundreds upon hundreds of serpents, most small but some as much as
eight or ten feet in length, looping down branches, crawling through the grass, toward the
three of them. "New tactic," he gasped, "Need- we need some kind of barrier!"

"Flame seems to work," Lilith agreed, "but I've not got the ability to just conjure up a wall of
fire."

"I, however, can do just that, I believe I have finished with the defenses," Dumbledore
grunted amid his own blindingly-fast casts. A moment later, Harry felt a wash of relief fall
over him as the Headmaster's wand moved high overhead. It swirled once, twice, three times,
and with each twist a roaring gout of flame erupted, snake-like in form. The cascading orange
plasma fell in rings around them, encircling all three at a distance of several feet, with a few
more between each one. The inner ring, closest to Harry and the others, seemed to burn the
hottest. Vegetation, and more importantly the swarm of attacking snakes, were incinerated
into ash within moments of coming in contact with the high-energy wall. The middle was
somewhere between, while the outer wall resembled mostly natural fire. It did nothing to
deter the snakes aside from a momentary hesitation before they plunged through, but it did
burn and crack. Some of the smaller ones died there, and only the largest serpents made it to
the last, most deadly barrier.
That left the problem of those already inside, of course. With Dumbledore holding off the
mass of them with repeated bursts of fire wherever the lines started to falter, Harry kept using
his simple but effective cutting or blasting curses to take care of all he could. With a limited
number to contend with, Lilith decided to change her own tactics.

She shifted into her battle form in just a moment. After that, she became a blur of motion
moving quite as fast as the ancient wizard's wand as both clawed hands, diamond-hard
hooves, and the spikes at the ends of her wings and tail lashed out and downward. She did not
always hit, but there were just so many attacks flowing from the Succubus, combined with
her own occasional blasts of Flaming Hands, that those around them were quickly subdued,
stabbed, burned, or crushed into oblivion just as thoroughly as those that survived to attempt
the innermost wall of fire.

Though Harry could feel the blistering heat, smell the burnt scales and grass, and hear the
hiss and writhing thumps of the snakes as they burned on the ground in mortal agony, it did
not burn him, or Lilith, or Dumbledore himself. Somehow, the older wizard had aimed the
vast majority of his flames' heat outward, shielding them from the worst effects. All was not
well, however. Just as the serpents began to taper and then retreat, Dumbledore slumped, his
slow forward steps faltering. Then he staggered, and fell to one knee. Around them, the fire
still raged, but it stopped coming from his knobbed wand, and soon the great inferno
flickered and died, leaving only the more mundane fire that had been set by his magic as the
vegetation and animals burned.

But as the flames vanished into remnants that softly crackled, sending wisps of dark gray
smoke into the air, the serpent army did not return. They kept running, whatever hold
Voldemort had over them gone.

"Professor?" Harry asked, his concern switching to the old man, who was now supporting
himself with one arm, almost crawling on the ground. His breathing was ragged and rough.
"Are you alright?"

"I... believe I am not, Harry. I may have missed one serpent, hiding in a burrow. My- my left
ankle burns." As he finished talking, Dumbledore keeled over to the right, rolling with a
wince of pain and a gasp onto his back. Bright purple boots with pointed toes, extremely old
fashioned in style but well maintained, peeked from beneath his robes.

Without hesitating, uncaring that Dumbledore was several times his own age, Harry threw
himself down and took hold of the old wizard's legs. He hiked up the robes to the knee, and
scowled. There, just above the boot-line, were a pair of bloody holes. Not quite circular, it
seemed like Dumbledore had been walking or had yanked his foot away when he was bitten.
Blood ran out, though not a lot. Harry guessed the poison, whatever it was, had caused the
swelling that surrounded the wounds. The flesh was already darkening to a deep purple, and
was raised about the width of his finger from the skinny, white-haired leg.

"It's... definitely poisoned," Harry muttered.

"I had surmised as much given the pain and difficulty breathing," Dumbledore gasped,
somehow still finding the strength to joke, and even smile. "It may be best to sever the leg. I
do not know what antidotes or spells might be required to remove the poison otherwise, and
we must act quickly."

"I can- I can take you back to Madame Pomfrey, or St. Mungo's," Harry protested, "Surely
they-"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted, "If Voldemort knows, somehow, that we were here, he will
stop at nothing to hide the other Horcruxes in ways we will never find them. My injuries
must not be reported- yet. And I cannot leave you here, not even in Miss Sendai's care.
Please, a simple cutting charm of sufficient strength will do. I believe I can cauterize the
wound for now. Just above the knee, if you would."

"But I-"

"Harry," Lilith said, her voice gentle and concerned despite the battle-form she still wore. A
clawed hand landed on his shoulder too, her sharp, talon-like fingers pressing into his shirt
just enough to remind him she was there, of her solid presence, "it might well be for the best.
He doesn't have long, look at his color. We have to act now. I will do it if you wish, sir."

"N- No," Harry whimpered, "I'll... I'll do it."

"Thank you, Harry," the Headmaster grunted, and positioned his own wand just above
Harry's. "I am ready."

The younger wizard watched for a moment as black shadows moved of the veins of
Dumbledore's leg. In just seconds they would pass his wand, and the older wizard was
already struggling to breath. What would happen if the poison entered his system more fully?
There was no guarantee the Matron or the hospital could even treat him in time.

No... this was the only way. They were right. "Diffindo," Harry intoned, screwing his eyes
shut as the sharp, clean line of red appeared, and Dumbledore's lower leg fell to the ground.

The old wizard grunted again, and then another torrent of words left his mouth in a rush.
Through his eyelids, Harry saw silvery light, then gold, then blue, and then a flash of pure
white. The last spells Dumbledore cast, Harry recognized from his many visits to the Hospital
Wing: Bandage-conjuring charms.

When Harry could bring himself to open his eyes again, he saw a bloody, half-charred stump
where the Headmaster's lower leg had once been. Near the blackened spots, even the old
wizard's white leg hair had been scorched away, black and curly if there was anything left but
stubble. A little further down, in a tightly controlled line that made Harry boggle at the level
of control over his magic Dumbledore exerted even in the most trying of circumstances, there
was a thin strip of red skin and then black. Below that, the charred line only a half inch or so
thick, there was partially-regrown flesh, which was quickly vanishing even as it regrew
beneath the white, clean bandages being conjured around it.

The sight would have been nauseating from this close, and Harry still felt his stomach twist at
the sight, but with all he had seen in the last year, especially since the attack on King's Cross
during what should have been the happiest time of most students' years, he felt largely inured
to gore. Knowing that it had been his wand, his spell, his will, that had severed his greatest
mentor's limb was stomach-turning in a different way. Yet, even now despite everything,
Dumbledore was already breathing easier, his hand just a little steadier as the long, thin
fingers guided his wand, which in turn directed the bandages where they needed to be.

"Are you... going to be alright, sir? Aside from... well..."

Somehow still amused, Dumbledore's bright blue eyes moved up to Harry's, and the younger
wizard saw his beard and mustache twitch in what must have been a small smile. "I suspect I
shall have to get in touch with Alastor about where he gets his own prosthetics, but all things
considered... yes, Harry. Thanks to your timely action, I think I will survive the day."

Harry felt himself slump in relief. He didn't think he had fallen that far, but the next thing he
knew Lilith's clawed hand was circling his upper left arm. "Careful, Master. I can feel you
getting dizzy... shock, I think."

"Hm? No," Harry murmured, "I don't think that's- I- but I don't-"

"Harry look at me," Dumbledore said firmly, his empty hand rising from the snake-corpse
filled grass to cup Harry's chin, "It is alright to feel. Remember that. But I think your friend is
right- your pupils are dilating. We shall remain here for a while to help you steady yourself. I
believe I also have a Calming Draught..."

"No, I'm fine," Harry protested again, "I just-mmf'!

He found his words cut off by having his face pressed rather suddenly into Lilith's impressive
bosom. He would have protested, but even in this situation the love and lust she felt for him
was clear, so he couldn't bring himself to pull out of her embrace. When he did, he quickly
found a small vial pressed into his hand/

"Drink," Dumbledore said, "remember you said you would follow my instructions. I think
this is easier than being told to flee, no? It will help you. A single swallow should be
sufficient. You are, I am afraid, rather used to... let us call them, 'extreme circumstances'. You
will be as fine as you claim to be with just a little help."

Reluctantly, Harry did as the old man wanted. He couldn't very well break his promise to do
as he was told after cutting the man's leg off. Even if that had been under his instructions, too.
Of course, the old wizard was quite right, and within a few seconds of taking a single large
pull from the vial, emptying about half of it, Harry did have to admit he felt a bit more
sanguine about the whole thing.

Surely, the Headmaster would have been in worse shape without their actions, no matter how
dreadful they had been. They had all done what they needed to. And really, Alastor Moody
had proven himself right that losing a body part here and there was a small price for catching
the darkest of wizards. For Voldemort? A lower leg was a mere pittance.

Even if Harry still wished it had been his that was lost, instead.
Speaking of loss... "Sir? Before we lose our chance to get this Horcrux... are you okay to
keep moving? I feel better already."

The old man looked down at his now-bandaged stump, then nodded, before offering a hand to
both Harry and Lilith. Since both helped him to his feet rather faster and easier than he had
expected, Dumbledore nearly stumbled, falling against Harry. Fortunately, thanks to the runes
that had made it to easy for them both to pull him upward in the first place, the younger
wizard steadied him handily too. "Sorry about that, Professor. I think both of us forget
sometimes how much Lilith's runes... augment me."

To her credit, the tall woman who so resembled a mythological demon blushed, "I did,
actually... sorry, sir. I didn't mean to half yank your arm out."

"Quite alright," Dumbledore waved off their concern, gesturing with hsi free hand down at
his leg, "in light of things, a bit of muscle strain seems a bit small to worry about. First, a
crutch, I think..."

Harry frowned as he saw the old-fashioned stick, little more than a pole with an uncushioned
arch affixed to it, that the older wizard conjured. "Sir... if you don't mind, what's the spell for
that...?"

It took him a few tries to get it right, though Dumbledore was patient as always. He seemed
quite grateful when the much more modern-looking one, with a padded shoulder-rest and
hand grip, was fitted under his arm. "Ah, yes. Thank you, Harry. I might be suffering a bit of
shock myself... I do remember the muggles inventing this style decades ago, now that it's
been brought to mind. Still... press on, then?"

Harry nodded, and Lilith only gestured toward the shack. "Should I lead? I'm a bit harder to
hurt..."

For once, Dumbledore actually seemed to consider it, but then shook his head, "No... not just
yet, I think. It is my understanding that you cannot sense our magic in quite the way I can, is
that correct?"

"No, not the same way," Lilith replied, "but I can sense it in general. And your Dark Lord's
magic is... particularly tainted. It permeates this place, for example, but there is more of it
that is even older."

"That would be his line, the Slytherins down to the Gaunts, who were his mother. I believe I
will still take the lead, though. The specific spells needed to counter an effect will be easier
for me that way. If you would take up the rear behind Harry to protect against a secondary- or
tertiary, I suppose- attack such as the snake that bit me, however...?"

"Of course."

Harry did not like being stuck in the middle. It made him feel weak, defenseless, and that
grated on the teenage- or young-man sensibilities he possessed in spades. Worse, it made him
feel like he was letting others take things meant for him, as Voldemort often accused him of
in their meetings. But he was also not a fool, and even wounded as he was, Harry knew the
Headmaster was his superior in nearly every way. Wiser, stronger, smarter, faster... he had
demonstrated as much in their Defense classes this very year, time and again. The older
wizard's ability to think on his feet, to maintain his cool and calm in the most extreme of
circumstances was inspiring to Harry, even as the rational part of him knew that he possessed
those qualities too. Others, after all, looked to him for the same thing.

Leadership.

He hated leading from the rear, or in this case the middle... but he also understood that,
sometimes, as a leader one had to make sacrifices. Sadly, for him personally, this seemed to
be one of those times. It was a hard lesson, one most recently driven home with the loss of
Mandy Brocklehurst, and then the friends and family wounded or lost forever in the attack at
King's Cross.

They could only do the best they could do, any of them. For a leader, sometimes that meant
making decisions that they hated... and had to do anyway.

So he swallowed his pride, and raised his wand, instead. "Alright. I'm ready."

"Excellent. A bit slower pace, I think... I'm not used to this crutch after all, and casting with
my left hand will always be a bit more awkward I'm afraid..."

It was only a few more feet, perhaps a dozen, but it felt like it took an hour for the wizened
man to hobble up to the door, and wave his wand in front of it. Now, as Dumbledore
murmured, chanted, sang, and eventually shouted, Harry could physically see, with his own
eyes, the wards and enchantments layered over the hovel bleeding waste energy into the
visible spectrum. Greens, reds, violets, argent silver, and a myriad of other colors broke like a
kaleidoscope of sparks, or a prism of glass shattering, or waves of fluid energy that rippled
and tore at the fabric of reality as they passed. It was, for lack of a better word, spellbinding
to watch. Both Harry and Lilith stared on in complete fascination as Dumbledore's magic
proved stronger, but only just. Or, Harry reasoned as the last of the light show ended, perhaps
the Headmaster was more educated... or simply that little bit more determined.

The effort of breaking down the defenses seemed to sap what remained of Dumbledore's
strength, and he sagged against the crutch, his thin chest heaving beneath his robes as his
wand-hand, now his left for the time being, fell limply to his side. "That was... more than I
expected. Fortunately, my soul and body are yet intact, and we have not been scourged by the
very element we used against Voldemort's serpents. Come... but carefully. There may yet be
defenses inside."

Harry had seen the inside of the Gaunt Shack in the memories Dumbledore had shown he and
Lilith, from Voldemort's uncle Morfin. It had been a wretched place then, when Merope had
been around to do the slave-work for Morfin and their father, Marvolo, who had been a
wretch himself. When Morfin had left Azkaban after serving his relatively short sentence
there, he had been forced to take care of himself without either his father, who had died
during his stay, or his sister who was either still with Tom Riddle Sr., or about to give birth to
Voldemort, or already dead after having done so.
Under Morfin's care, the place was even more abysmal. Dirty dishes piled on every surface
near the ramshackle 'kitchen', even the large, rickety old bed, now moth- and snake-infested,
he was sure, the three of them had shared in the one-room home. Trash and garbage, mostly
old, torn books and clothes, littered the place along with snakeskins, potion or booze bottles,
and all manner of other detritus covered the hard-pack dirt floor. A single chamber-pot was
covered in something nasty to look at, but which had sat there so long even the stench had
faded. Aside from the bed, the cooking fire, and the small counter and sink, the only other
furniture was Marvolo's old, terrible-looking and now blood-covered armchair, a wooden
rocking chair that Morfin had once sat in while carving, and the single large, wooden table
that had somehow split in half lengthwise, leaving half standing and the other tottering
against the old armchair.

"A sad state," Dumbledore sighed as he stepped in far enough for the others to follow. "If you
recall, Harry, Morfin was still alive when his nephew found him, and framed him for the
death of the Riddle family. Worse, he then modified Morfin's memory so that he thought he
had done it, and was proud of it. He died in Azkaban less than three years later. His second
stay was almost twice as long as the first."

"I still can't feel too sorry for him given what we saw of his character in that other wizard's
memories," Harry reminded him, "Ogden, or whatever it was."

"Yes, I do understand the sentiment. Still, I do not feel he deserved quite that fate. He did not,
after all, commit that crime, and he did serve his time for the one he did commit. All the
same... I do not sense much in the way of magic inside. There... and there. Ah... and there,
too."

Harry followed the Headmaster's finger, lifted from the crutch, as it pointed to a small pot,
devoid of any plant, on the windowsill over the kitchen sink opposite them. From there, it
went to a spot of dirt on the ground underneath the broken table, and then underneath the bed.

"I wonder... Harry, where do you think Voldemort would be most likely to hide a prized
possession here?"

Lilith stayed with Harry as he moved further in, his own senses straining to pick up whatever
traces Voldemort might have left. Dumbledore himself stayed by the door, using the frame to
lean against while he caught his breath. Even so, Harry knew he was casting spells in rapid
succession, most probably aimed at detecting or halting whatever traps and defenses might
have been set up.

Yet, after the light show at the door, it seemed most of the danger had passed, for nothing
jumped out at them, nothing harmed them as they moved about, aside from the stench of
mould and decay, and the leavings of snakes and their meals.

Harry eventually pointed at the sill first, "The pot, maybe? If Merope thought about Riddle
Sr. whenever he walked by, that could be it... if Voldemort knew about her feelings, anyway."

"I know that he knew of their relationship, given how the Riddle family were murdered, but if
he knows the whole story I would be surprised. That sort of sentimentality would only seem a
weakness to him, I expect... yet I see no reason not to check. The magics on the pot are
relatively minor. Lilith, would you mind bringing it here, please...? Carefully, just in case."

"Of course," the Succubus murmured, then turned to him, "Step back please, Master. I don't
want it to explode."

She reached out, and the two wizards, like the Succubus, waited with baited breath as her
clawed hand closed around the relatively small pot. It was clay, orange-brown, the kind one
might find by the dozen at a muggle garden store, and it sported one large crack down the
side. Lilith glanced in, then showed Harry that it was filled with old, dried dirt that had
withered away from the edges due to lack of care, and a barely-visible bone-dry sprout that
might have been a whole inch long before it fell and wilted.

Harry felt nothing, so he could only shrug. When Lilith took it to Dumbledore next, the old
wizard's wand moved over it for a few moments, and then he frowned as the dirt lifted up,
levitating under his control, to break on the ground. Aside from further adding to the dirt,
only one small glint caught Harry's eye. His heart started to race...

And then fell quiet as he rolled his eyes. A penny. A muggle penny, buried in the dirt. It rose
up too, and for the first time, he thought he might have detected the faintest trace of magic.
Yet it felt more familiar, less alien, than Voldemort's. More recent, too. Dumbledore's,
perhaps...?

The penny floated in front of the old wizard's spectacles for a moment, then he gave a sour
sort of chuckle. "It would be cute, if it were not surrounded by such sorrow. See, Harry... a
penny given for a wish. Merope must have carved that in great secret, and imbued it with all
the magic she could muster before her love potion had a chance to work."

As he examined the copper in turn, the head was faded to near-nothing, but clearly etched in
by magic were a few simple words.

Merope + Tom.

Love Forever.

"That... that might be the saddest thing I've ever seen," Harry whispered. Beside him, Lilith
nodded.

"Love too often is. I admit, I feel a great deal of pity for Merope Gaunt. She was... what she
was made, and yet for all the harm she did for whatever twisted form of love she could
manage... it was, in its own way, love. Yet, what harm did come from it. That, Harry, is why I
once mentioned that there is a room in the Department of Mysteries wherein is studied a
force both more beneficent and yet more deadly and dangerous than any other."

Harry nodded. He remembered that conversation well. If it was, indeed, 'the Power He
Knows Not', then it was indeed the one thing Voldemort, the child of a love potion (for all
one side may have indeed felt real love), and raised in an orphanage, different from everyone
else... if it was the one thing he would never, could never, understand... then yes.
"Fortunately, Master has me, and all of his other friends and family," Lilith reminded them.

At her words, Dumbledore smiled in the demonic woman's direction, "Yes. Yes, it is a
fortunate thing indeed, I am starting to think. Well... the pot was at least evidence of some
good in the world, for all it was twisted. I think I shall pick the plain spot under the floor...
Harry, if you would levitate the table pieces away...?"

The simple charm did exactly as intended, and with two silent casts (managed easily,
thankfully, because Harry would have been embarrassed to fail at casting such a simple spell
in front of his mentor, even now), the table was shoved to the side of the hovel. A few
seconds later, dirt streamed upward in a neat arc to follow them. The line was thin at first,
and grew progressively wider until it was a foot wide or more. Once it reached that point, it
was just a few moments more before it stopped.

What was inside the hole was not a Horcrux, however. As Dumbledore had described them, a
Horcrux radiated death. Even the one they now suspected was in Nagini, the one in Harry's
scar before it was sealed away by Lilith, worked to twist the life around them.

This... this thing, radiated no such thing.

Even Harry, unable to sense magic like Dumbledore or Lilith, could feel its opposite, the
energy of life itself, radiating from the simple shape.

Ovoid, but not an oval. Mottled, white with dark blue splotches and pale pink patches a few
shades lighter than Lilith's hair just visible amid the white. "An... Egg?"

The thing was perhaps nineteen, or twenty inches tall, at least half that wide. Harry's first
thought was a basilisk or dragon egg, but he had seen eggs of the latter before, and they did
not give the same feel. At least, not that he could have sensed when facing a Hungarian
Horntail in an arena for the amusement of the masses.

"Not of a breed I am familiar with," Dumbledore murmured, his wand moving out over it in
intricate patterns again. "Nicholas and I studied dragon blood more than dragons themselves,
which was my first thought... but I doubt even Hagrid would recognize this... whatever it is.
Also, it is old. Far older than Voldemort, I would wager... older even than his grandfather. By
a century or more, if I am not mistaken..."

"Could it be a basilisk egg, then? If it came down the Slytherin line...?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "No... I have seen those before. They are leathery, about as large
as an adult male's fist, and brown. Whatever this is, it is likely unrelated to Voldemort aside
from a familiar connection. Let us set it aside for now... under the bed. My turn to check, I
think."

"No, sir, I-"

It was too late. The shack was small enough that even with his crutch, it only took
Dumbledore a moment to reach the bed. It took several agonizing seconds for him to move to
his last knee (thankfully the other didn't quite reach the ground) and lean forward, almost
hanging from the crutch's grip, to push his other hand under the bed. "Ah... a simple lock box,
I believe... one moment... Ouch. That's sharp. Aaand here we go. If you would be so kind,
Lilith. Harry, could you help me up again, please...?"

The box itself looked heavy and sturdy. It was squat, plain oak Harry guessed, but stained
dark walnut or similar, with brass fittings around the corners, with a silver lock that was
tarnished with age. The locker was perhaps two feet side to side, eighteen inches wide, and
eight or nine deep if Harry guessed right, with two simple brass handles that rattled as Lilith
bent to pick it up carefully. This time, Harry did feel magic, and more than one, as it moved
past him while he waited to help the Headmaster up.

A tingle, a rush of warmth and heat, perhaps the softest of shimmers like a heat mirage in the
air. Beneath all of that, a roiling, simmering anger and hatred, a malice that was all too
familiar, though he hadn't felt it in a while.

"It's in there," he whispered, and unconsciously reached his free hand up to rub his scar,
though it did not so much as twinge. "I can feel... something."

"Does your scar hurt, Harry?"

It was Lilith, who was watching him closely with the box held just beneath her bountiful
chest, who answered, "No... it doesn't hurt him at all. He's a bit confused by that... but that's
normal. He isn't used to being around a Horcrux and not having it hurt. But I can feel the foul
thing, too. It's definitely in here."

"Excellent. Well... I suppose we can put it on the bed, and back away... there are a few more
magical protections I can sense already."

Harry nodded numbly, his arm wrapped around Dumbledore's wand-hand to help support him
even after he was standing. Whatever the poison had done, combined with the extensive use
of probably potent magicks, it had tired the Headmaster out significantly. From about five
feet away, back by the door, the three watched, Lilith now flanking the older wizard with
Harry closest to the door, as the knobbed wand flicked and moved.

There was no great light show this time, only an audible whump and shockwave of air
pressure as the last enchantment gave way. "There. A simple Alohamora... and it's open. Do
not touch! But I believe... oh. Oh, my. The Ring... the Resurrection Stone... after all these
years..."

Harry watched as the old man staggered on one leg forward, tearing his arm from Harry's
own grasp. He followed, concerned... and stopped. Atop a pile of mildewed clothes straight
out of the sixteen hundreds, was a silvered ring with a large, ugly black stone set where a
diamond might be on a wealthy person's wedding band.

That magic, the magic on the ring, he could feel quite powerfully. "Sir, you shouldn't touch-"

Again, it was too late, but Dumbledore did not touch the ring with his hand. Instead, he lifted
it with the wand tip, and the two began to glow. "Harry... would you mind, terribly, if I
borrowed your fabulous Cloak...? Only for a moment."
Something felt... off. Harry could not put his finger on what, exactly, but he caught Lilith's
eye. She was nervous, cautious, in the same way he was. Perhaps she was feeding on his
emotion, or perhaps she felt what Dumbledore was feeling... but this behavior was not
normal. "I don't think so, Sir. I... forgot it."

A lie. He had never, aside from omission, lied to Dumbledore.

"A pity... well. Perhaps later, then. And I suppose... but no."

Then he heaved a great sigh, and tipped the wand so that the ring fell back onto the clothes.
"A moment, Harry. Step back again... there may be shards. This is a great shame, and may be
the second hardest thing I have ever done... but it must, indeed, be done."

He did as the old man said, but Lilith stayed closer, warily keeping an eye on him. A few feet
back, he could not make out the words, fifteen or sixteen, that Dumbledore stated.

Shouted. Roared. Whispered. Coughed? Sang? A cacophony of voices radiated, in Mermish

and English and Cantonese and Dwarvish, Goblin and Fey. In every variety of life that
existed, so far as Harry knew, the words echoed. Ancient and vast, yet small and simple for
what they did.

Avada Kedavra might have killed a mortal.

It, Harry had been taught, severed the connection between Soul and Body. Severed it utterly.

A Horcrux might have been killed, or destroyed perhaps might be a better term, in the same
fashion.

But what Dumbledore did, whatever he did, registered only as blissful, light-filled chaos in
Harry's mind, in his memory. The phrase might have taken minutes to utter, or seconds, but
when it was over, there was a flash of light, and a thunderous crash that blew him back a full
step into the door-frame.

Dumbledore sagged again as his eyes cleared. "Ah... I have not had to speak those words
aloud before. I... did not expect the resonance. Interesting. Harry, I believe the ring is safe to
touch if you wish to take it... I find I no longer desire it."

Harry swallowed as he stepped closer. "Sir... what was that? Why did you want my Cloak,
after touching the ring with your wand? Why did they both light up? What were those words?
Were they words?"

"That is a great many questions," Dumbledore wheezed, "but briefly... In answer to your first
questions, I will recommend and loan you my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It is...
clarifying. At least, I believe you will find The Tale of the Three Brothers enlightening." His
words were interrupted with a cough, then he continued, "As for the words... I do not know
the name of the language. It is old, older than any I know of. Some call it Allspeak. Some call
it Primordial. Some Enochian, or Carthaginian... though it is far older than ancient Carthage,
and quite possibly older than the long-gone city of Enoch. I learned the words in the same
book where I first discovered Horcurxes. They are, perhaps, the safest means of destroying
one... aside from basilisk venom, at any rate. Fiend Fyre may also work, or the Killing Curse,
but I find I have little taste for dark magic these days. In fact, I think I may have lost my taste
for standing, too. I may... may need to.. to rest."

Lilith caught him half-way to the floor, a look of surprise and panic in her eyes.

Harry gave her a hard look. "Shadow Step. Straight for the infirmary."

The Succubus clearly hated it, but she listened. Despite the danger, despite the harm it might
do to the old wizard who had already suffered so much that day, she vanished in a swirl of
shadowy smoke, leaving Harry the last one in the Gaunt's old hovel.
 Interlude

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 50 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a
week, please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This
story(as well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: h- t_ t_ p-s -: -/ -/ -discord . g-g / N9yDA8t6Cw (taking out hyphens,
underscores, and spaces of course).

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Not kidding. Major character death in this chapter. Some of you
(female, mostly? I donno your life) might not like who it is. Trust me, in FwB the character
gets what's coming to them. Related mentions of non-con and of course violence.
Someone does the unaliving, after all.

Chap. 75: Interlude

The night before Harry, Lilith, and Dumbledore went on their excursion to Little Hangleton,
two young witches were reading in their shared bedroom. It had been a tense day, especially
in the afternoon. A friend of their friends' had been attacked by former friends, and it had not
gone well. Violence had been done, and both girls suspected that on this very night, more
would be done still. But it was not for them to stop it, if they even wanted to. Neither did, in
this case. Which just meant that the two young women were not, perhaps, as deep into their
respective books as they might hope.

"Tracey...?"

The petite brunette looked up and over her shoulder at the blonde witch, whose breasts (such
beautiful breasts!) she was using as a pillow, taking only a moment to mark the page in her
book she had been reading with a finger. "Yes, Daphne?"

"Did you mean... what you said?"

"About what, my love?" the shorter girl replied, puzzled. They talked a lot, after all. "I
generally do."

"About.. about Harry."

That clarification only made the taciturn younger girl grimace, "You'll have to be more
specific, I am afraid. We have talked about Harry quite a lot in the last couple of months. I've
said a lot about him."

"T- That night. When... when R- Weasley got his Runes. The second set, I suppose."
"Ah," she fell silent for a few minutes, and for a little while Daphne thought her girlfriend
had gone back to reading, though her body was not moving in the quiet, subtle ways she had
become so intimately familiar with over the years they had been together, first as friends,
then lovers. Eventually, she asked, "About... my body's use? It being only for your use and
his?"

Daphne nodded. It was a subtle gesture, one that, were they in the Slytherin Common Room,
might have gone unnoticed even by the most observant members of their House. In the
privacy of their own room in Harry's quarters, it seemed unnecessary, but Tracey didn't blame
her girlfriend. If anything, the miniscule movement only proved to show how nervous the
blonde was about asking. "You should know I prefer honesty when possible," the smaller
witch eventually explained, taking a moment to set her book aside (bookmark carefully
placed, of course) and rest her hands over Daphne's, it in turn splayed over Tracey's flat
stomach. "I know I once promised differently..."

"You said you were for me," Daphne murmured.

Tracey nodded, and turned her head once more to kiss the blonde's jaw, "And that is true. I
am for you. I am also for Harry Potter."

"Apparently so," Daphne murmured, "Whatever that means."

"If I knew, know that I would tell you. I only know when the words come to me. I... I believe
it means that I am a gift, intended for you."

"And now for Harry?"

"And possibly Lilith," Tracey agreed, "though that remains to be seen. I do not know if... if I
speak prophecy, or they are the mad ramblings of an over-emotional teenage girl who does
not know how to handle those emotions. All that I know is that, as I speak them, they feel
right."

"I see," said Daphne quietly, though she clearly did not understand any better than her
girlfriend did. How could she? "Then... you will... be with him often?"

Tracey nodded, and her hands around Daphne's tightened, "I love him. As- To the same
degree I love you. It is strange, I barely know him, and yet I feel my magic, my soul, sing for
him, as it does for you. We are bonded as closely."

"If... if you are that close," Daphne whispered, her voice trembling, "I... I can step aside."

"No!" The shout made them both jump, Tracey perhaps more than even the girl she leaned
against, "No, that... that is not what I want. It is not what Harry wants. I love you, Daphne."

"But you love him," came the returning whisper, clearly on the point of tears, "and if it is that
intense after so short a time, when we had so long..."

"You are comparing different things, and on a different scale, my love," Tracey reminded her
calmly. "When we were children, we had the love of children. Now that we are nearing
adulthood, our feelings have matured. It is for that reason, as much as any other, I feel that I
am as close to Harry. I am able to feel as I do now, thus I do feel as I do now, only for two
rather than one. As a child, I could not even feel the way that I feel now about you, much less
the both. My love for him does not lessen my love for you."

"Nor I," Daphne said after several long seconds.

Tracey nodded, "Then you... as well?"

There was a nod from behind her, "Yes."

"We will bear sister-children with him," Tracey announced after a couple more minutes of
quiet contemplation, "My wife and my husband will raise them together with me, side by
side."

"I suppose we shall," Daphne hiccupped, "I only..."

"I know," Tracey picked up, then leaned up a little to kiss Daphne's tender, tear-stained lips,
"You worry that I will one day love him more. I cannot, no more than you could. And as for
the Succubus... I desire her out of lust alone. I could be her friend, but I will never truly be
her lover in the way I love you and Harry."

"She is rather ravishing," the blonde agreed.

"Speaking of ravishing," Tracey replied, "I find myself in need of one, if only to reassure my
dear, beloved girlfriend how much she means to me. Would you like that, beloved
girlfriend?"

"I think... I think I would like that very much," Daphne murmured, then set aside her own
long-ignored book.

"Good. In that case, my love, I'd like to remind you also that your delightful body belongs to
me, too."

Daphne moaned as her petite girlfriend shifted a bit further, turning far enough to press her
lips and then teeth into the blonde's clavicle. Tracey wasted no time in suckling and nipping,
drawing out what would no doubt prove to be a large, dark-colored hickey. "Tracey, that's not
fair," Daphne whimpered as her girlfriend went lower and inward, pressing her lips again and
again to the soft, tender flesh between collar and the top of her firm, perky tits. "I want to kiss
you, too..."

"My lover feels unneeded," Tracey murmured against her skin, "So I feel obligated to show
her how much I do need her. Lay still, my love, and relax. Let me do this for you."

"You're so mean..."

Tracey only smiled against her, and continued kissing while her hand started to roam. Those
who knew them in Slytherin would have been shocked by what they saw in the bedroom. Not
so much the display of affection between two witches. Even among the pureblood elite, it
was an open secret that many witches enjoyed the company of other witches, if only to spare
themselves the never-ending tension of husbands who could not or would not satisfy them
properly. No, it was the words being said, and the clear signs of who, exactly, was in charge.

Daphne Greengrass was outwardly the dominant one, and she was known as the Ice Queen of
Slytherin for a very, very good reason. Even Harry had backed down from her once or twice,
and he hated seeming weak in front of others. Tracey Davis, who was taciturn at best and shy
enough to be considered antisocial by most, barely talked to anyone in public. She would
respond to a teacher's question, or speak with Daphne in quiet tones out in the corridors or at
meals, but even among their friends, she didn't speak often. In front of strangers, she barely
said a word, preferring to let her blonde friend, or even Pansy, do the talking for her.

But here, in private, just her and her lover, Tracey felt no need to be cautious. She had been
Daphne's lover and girlfriend for years now, and knew exactly where they stood. Equals in all
respects. Where one was weak, the other was strong. It was a perfect match in so many ways,
and if she were open about her feelings, Tracey would have admitted to being just as terrified
as Daphne was about adding a third person like Harry, no matter how wonderful he was, to
the careful balance of their relationship. Still, with just them, however...

Tracey had no problem speaking her mind, or taking the lead. There was no need for secrecy,
or hiding her strength behind the larger and (presumably, though they both knew better) more
magically powerful pureblood. Between them, there was only openness, and equality. Daphne
was feeling vulnerable, so Tracey happily stepped up to show her that, even if she was, her
lover would take care of her. Would shore her up, strengthen her weaknesses, as always.

So she kissed and nibbled, her small hands roaming and caressing both over and just inside
her lover's Acromantula-silk nightshirt, sliding up and down the blonde's thighs, to her
perfect slender waist, or to grip her hips, or her even buttocks, all while kissing lower and
lower, back and forth, until eventually Tracey's lips closed around the hem of Daphne's shirt
and pulled it open, baring one breast to the cool dorm air.

Her nipple was already hard, and Tracey only wasted a moment to look up at her lover
saucily, "This is how much I need you... quite as much as you need me. Do not fear me ever,
ever leaving you behind, my love," then she leaned in and nibbled the pink bud, too.

Daphne gasped at the contact, one hand reflexively holding Tracey closer at the back of her
head, while the other came up to pull the petite girl against her body, holding her closer at the
waist. "Oh, Tracey..."

"I love you," the brunette murmured into and around the tit, "I love you forever, and always.
Just as I love Harry, he loves you, and he loves me."

"And I love you, and... and I think I love him, too," Daphne sighed, saying out loud the words
she had only dared hint at a few times. Even just earlier in this same conversation, she could
not directly say it. She never had, at least to her recollection, until now. If she had, it was
surely in the heat of passion. Passion she was now feeling, to be sure, but not for Harry
himself. Admitting it to herself, to Tracey, while her girlfriend was doing her best to make
love to her...

It had taken more than she had imagined, and yet having said it, Daphne felt...
Lighter.

Freer. Free.

"I love him," she gasped, her brilliant blue eyes wide in astonishment. She looked down at
Tracey, who was looking up at her while she suckled, and then giggled as the smaller girl
slapped her cunt lightly through her already soaking knickers, "I can't believe I've never...
never really even realized."

"You do," Tracey giggled, pulling away long enough to say it before moving back to the other
breast and speaking into that firm mound next, "and now you've said it to me... When will
you say it to him? He deserves to know before you make him sign that contract."

Daphne blinked while her girlfriend continued to pleasure her, even sliding a hand, the same
that had struck her, no matter how delightful the frisson of contact had been, beneath her
knickers and sliding the pads of her fingers up and down her folds. "Soon, I think... you're
right, he does deserve to know. But I'm... I'm not attracted to..."

"Loving one person like Harry," Tracey reasoned, "does not make you a bisexual, or straight,
Daphne. It only means you have fallen in love with someone you did not expect. As I did.
For me, there are other men I find attractive, not just one."

"Ah... I suppose that's... true," she replied, breathing faster as Tracey started kissing between
her breasts, then down her taut abdomen in a line. "It isn't so different... from Mother or
Father, or Astoria... just... more love... r-right?"

"Harry loves many people," Tracey agreed, pausing to run a tongue into the other girl's belly
button a few times, "yet his love for any particular one does not diminish the love for others.
It is endless for him... and I imagine, for all mankind, if they choose it. Why should
something so wonderful be limited?"

"An- an excellent q-question... please, for the love of Merlin, Tracey... just put your mouth on
me, please!"

The petite witch grinned upward once more, knowing she had won their little game, as she
almost always did. She was by far just a better tease, and both of them knew it. "As my queen
commands," Tracey whispered, "My Ice Queen... shall I warm your heart and your nethers
both?"

"Please!"

She didn't make her wait any longer. With one small hand mauling Daphne's left breast as
roughly as she could, the other gently moving around the upper petals of her lover's pussy,
Tracey's mouth opened and latched on. Her tongue lavished affection on everything it could
reach, while her lips tugged and pulled at Daphne's core, almost trying to inhale the entire
thing. Or at least, that's what it felt like to her. It was a peculiar technique, one she seemed to
have picked up from Harry himself, but it did wonders for her. With attention on her
extremely sensitive nipples, her clit, and most of the rest of her pussy, it only took Tracey's
tongue delving inside for a few rigorous thrusts before she came undone, panting, gasping,
and writhing. "T- T- Tra-Tracey! Oh, Merlin, oh Merlin, I'm cu-cumm-cumming!"

About two minutes later, a very satisfied-looking Tracey sat up with a small bounce and a
chipper smile, to wipe the lubricant that had sprayed all from her chin. "Well... do you believe
that I love you now, my love?"

"I'll never... never doubt again," Daphne panted breathlessly, "but now... now I feel like my
lover needs to be... shown how much I love... her. Just- just as soon as I... catch my breath!"

Tracey could only giggle. Those giggles turned to squeals of delight and laughter a few
minutes later as the larger girl pounced, pinning her to the bed.

The birds were still chirping in the trees as Sirius Black led Astoria Greengrass down the path
toward the front gates of Hogwarts. From there, the pair would be apparating to just outside
his girlfriend's flat. Once they met up, as they had seven times thus far since Christmas, the
three would drive together to the Royal Marsden Hospital, renowned as one of the top three
in the world for cancer treatments. At least, that's what the limited amount of research
Hermione and a few others had been able to come up with in the time they had.

Sirius could only say that he had no fault with the way they had treated Astoria, himself, or
his girlfriend.

The doctors seemed knowledgeable, and willing to learn if they did not already know
something. While he had been a bit surprised, given Harry and Hermione's discussion about
cancer in general and what it could do to a body and at how more recent muggle treatments
were starting to prove more and more successful, he had high hopes that the youngest
Greengrass' affliction might well be something manageable. Or even better, fully treatable.
Furthermore, they had treated all of them well on a personal level. He knew the doctors and
most of the nursing staff by name, and they knew himself, Astoria, and his girlfriend by both
name and sight.

That was why his mood was good as Sirius held out his elbow to side-along the younger
witch. Well, that and he would be seeing his girlfriend after more than two weeks apart. She
hadn't been able to make the last appointment due to some issues with her family that needed
addressing. Speaking of the woman, though... "Orla! You're ready to go?"

"Oh, you startled me, Sirius," the woman he had greeted said with a completely un-serious
glare, "Stop doing that! I don't know how you sneak around so well, and stop teaching this
sweet girl your dastardly tricks!"

Astoria only giggled as Orla approached, both their arms opening for a quick hug. She liked
the older woman, who had quickly assumed the place of a favored aunt. Orla Saville was of
mixed Irish and English heritage, which showed in her dark hair, a smattering of freckles, and
lightly tanned skin, but also her general demeanor and how she carried herself. Which was a
bit surprising to Astoria, as her accent was very much that of muggle New York. She talked
like a Brit, but it was a strange dichotomy with the particular sounds and notes she made.
Astoria loved it, just as she'd come to love the woman Sirius had now been dating for several
months.

His longest ever relationship, she had learned early on.

"How are you, dear?" Orla asked.

"Same as always," Astoria said back, "Glad to be getting help. My parents were at a complete
loss, until Harry and Sirius stepped in."

"Well, it's good they were available. Come on, we should get going. Traffic will be bad if we
don't get a move on, just getting into London will be difficult, much less Marsden."

"Right. Well, lead the way, love... and if the visit is as quick as last time, I've gotten the okay
to spend a little time here before we take Astoria back to school...?" Sirius said with a
mischievous smirk.

Orla rolled her eyes, "Calm down, you horndog. We can discuss that later, when the girl
herself isn't listening in, hmm?"

Astoria blushed, but just a little. Weeks now of hanging around Harry and his friends had
largely inured her to casual conversation of sex, but these were still relative strangers. She
may have lived with Sirius for a couple of months during the summer, and loved Orla dearly,
but she didn't and couldn't say she knew them that well. "Don't mind me, if you need some
quiet time," she supplied as they walked toward the small garage adjoining Orla's suburban
cottage, "I can go for a walk."

"You're always tired after Chemo," Orla reminded her, "maybe just a nap. And Sirius can just
settle for a cuddle."

"Aww..."

Thankfully, the drive wasn't as bad as Orla had feared, and within two hours the older two
were sitting patiently in the waiting room while Astoria was in the office itself, undergoing
yet another treatment. Hopefully, at the end, the doctors would have good news from the tests
they had already run.

Conversation while they waited was light too. It focused mostly on vague plans for the
summer vacation, with a bit of discussion about Astoria's home life, and why she had been
staying with Sirius and Harry in the first place. While a heavy topic to be sure, Orla had
already known most of it. That her parents did love her, but due to threats being made against
her family it was felt she was better off with a 'family friend', instead. That had relieved the
woman's heart when she had first learned of it, and now she had taken the situation to be as
normal as it was going to get for the foreseeable future. It helped that Harry, who Orla had
barely spoken to but also liked, was someone both Astoria and her older sister looked to for
strength.
"Honestly, I don't know where the kid gets it," Sirius opined, "his dad was a good man, down
to earth, and all that... but I feel pretty sure James would've broken under the strain that kid is
under, and he was grown. His mum, Lily, was more hot-headed. She was strong, much
stronger than she should've had to be, but her temperament was the fiercer of the two. Harry...
he can be fierce, but when others need him he's always there. That's what gets me, he never
says no to helping someone. It's got to be just exhausting."

"It probably is," Orla agreed softly, a little more mindful of the others in the lobby, "But from
all you've told me, his upbringing until you were able to come into his life probably wasn't
the best either. He... well, he probably has a lot of built-in trauma responses, but... things like
that can either break a person, or make them harder and stronger than any steel could dream
of being."

"I suppose," Sirius agreed thoughtfully, his voice low in the way that made Orla's insides
quiver, "still... his whole life has been such a mess. I wish... I wish things had been different."

"So you've said. You haven't told me exactly what happened, though... why you weren't there.
I know you regret it."

He let out a low sigh, "I do. It's... it was the worst decision of my entire life, and made at the
lowest point of my whole life. It just made everything... worse. But... if you want me to tell
you about it... I need to know. I need to know a few more things about.. well, us. Because it
comes with other secrets, big ones, and I can't just tell you unless I have some kind of...
commitment."

"Commitment?" Orla said with a giggle, looking at Sirius in shock, "You are asking me about
commitment? That's rich, coming from you... but yes. I can tell you that I'm committed to
this. To us. Unless it turns out you're a mass murderer, or something."

"Well, about that... that's what a lot of people thought at first..."

And he told her, quietly, there in the lobby of Marsden, everything. About magic, him being a
wizard, Harry being a wizard. About how he had failed to protect James, Lily, and then
Harry, failed to stop Peter. He went on with a brief explanation of what had happened after,
about Voldemort's return, and what it would mean for Orla in particular if it was ever found
out they were a couple. He ended the rambling explanation with a synopsis of Astoria's
disease apparently being mundane, but caused by a magical curse generations ago.

Through it all, Orla sat quietly, her eyes occasionally twinkly in surprise at some of the
details. But she listened throughout, never asking questions, until Sirius finished with, "And
that's basically it. My last big secret is that magic exists, and... and if you're with me, then
you can know. Otherwise I have to... I'm legally obligated... to wipe this conversation from
your memory."

"I see," Orla responded, "well, I suppose it would make sense for someone to ask if you'd
already done so before... but I think I can safely say that, while it's news to me in the details, I
already knew the broad strokes. Because I've been trying to find a way to tell you that I'm a
witch for months! And I can't believe I didn't see it before. Harry... Potter. Sirius Black. I'm a
fool... but if you think I'm leaving you because that nutter of a Dark Lord is after him, you're
a fool too, Sirius."

"Wh- What? I don't understand..."

Orla stared into the gray eyes that had wooed so many witches in his youth, and herself too if
she were honest, and smiled, "I'm a witch myself, dummy. I went to Mato Tipila, in the
western MACUSA."

Those same gray eyes widened comically, "Y- You did...? Well... that makes some things
easier."

"Sure does," Orla chuckled.

Draco Malfoy sighed in post-orgasmic bliss as his two whores swapped his cum between
their mouths. Life was good. He had done what the Dark Lord had asked, and created a way
into the school. He had been tested, yes. His Dark Lord had seen fit to punish him, too.
Rightly so, since he had allowed himself to be distracted by the pleasures of the flesh with
that first Ravenclaw whore. Mandy, Mindy, Brandi, or whatever her useless, half-blood name
had been.

But his second attempt had been successful, and they knew the Vanishing Cabinet worked. It
had, after all, enabled he and his second whore's escape from the castle, and right under
Potter's nose. The coward who fancied himself a true Gryffindor hadn't even been brave
enough to follow him!

That had given the wizard time to capture another whore (an actual one he thought, though
now the bint served only him and for free), and use her nondescript flat as a base of
operations while he had contacted his master in utmost secrecy.

The mark on his arm prickled again, showing his master was pleased as he often was these
days. Draco didn't blame him. As soon as there was a momentary weakness, a distraction, or
something similar... the Dark Lord would pounce. Waves of Death Eaters could enter the
school through the passage Draco had opened, bypassing all defenses. Yes, his master was
well pleased... and now, so was Draco.

He had been given leave to stay here, where he was, and enjoy the fruits of his labor. It wasn't
much.

A far cry from his comfortable family home, at any rate, but Draco would rather be in the
relative hovel with his two whores than with his abhorrently servile family, who licked at the
Dark Lord's boots. Of course, he would never dare say such a thing outside. He'd never have
dared think it before his aunt Bellatrix had taught him the finer points of Occlumency. But at
least he had shelter, food, and as much sex as he could dream of. For a boy who had grown
up being made effectively impotent by his own godfather, it was a very welcome respite.

Isabelle Ross, for her part, was as happy as she had ever been under the Imperius Curse, and
Draco knew it. He made sure she was full up on pleasure too, because between the two
women he much preferred the younger Ravenclaw. The other was more skilled, and over the
last two weeks since he had been able to lower his guard, the whore had taught Isabelle a
great deal about pleasing a man. In fact, if he was careful, Draco was relatively sure that in
the next few days he could go swap out the older whore for a newer model. Perhaps from
Hogsmeade, during their next planned trip...

Wouldn't that just show Potter who the best wizard truly was!

Thinking about it was getting him hard again, so Draco grinned and looked down his sweat-
stained body at the pair of whores. "Suck me again, sluts."

Without hesitation, both psychically dominated women did as they were told, passing his
impressive, three and a half-inch todger back and forth between them with relish.

This was, indeed, the life.

Thus, Draco was fully relaxed and at ease when the door to the whore's flat exploded inward,
and three very large, very angry-sounding men in Death Eater regalia stormed in, wands up.
"Nobody fekkin' move," the largest of the lot, one whose voice Draco recognized even
behind the mask, growled loudly.

Already too close to orgasm, Draco could not hold back the lurching in his pelvis as he
reflexively shoved Ross down onto his cock all the way. For a reward, he got a cutting curse
across the chest. Not deep, just enough to send a line of blood trickling down the sweat-
stained skin. "Ow! How dare-"

"Shut the fekk up, you little shite," the big man growled, stalking closer, "Fan out, search the
place. No surprises."

The other two did as the big man ordered at once, leaving Draco to splutter, "Goyle, what the
hell are you playing at? I did what the Dark Lord said! He told me I could stay here!"

"All clear," one and then the other man said, joining Gregorovitch Goyle as he stayed in the
center of the room, his wand pointed directly at Draco's face.

"Good. Take the valuables, get everything useful. Dark Lord says look for notes, too."

Once again, the two split off, and the momentary hesitation in the older whore's face as they
raided her home for anything of even modest value died as she was hit by an Imperious curse
that Draco had not cast. His wand, foolishly, was out of reach.

He wanted to protest, to yell, to shout. How dare this man, who was his father's underling, a
lapdog at best, order him around! Threaten him! Hurt him!

But for some reason, Draco knew that railing against the situation would only make things
worse. So he stayed silent, glad that he at least got to cum one more time before... whatever
was going to happen, happened.

It took less than five minutes for the other two wizards to toss the place quite thoroughly.
Draco had made sure it was messy just because he was far too lazy to clean up himself, and
the whore's jobs were limited to pleasuring him, not taking care of any housework aside from
fetching food. Still, the place was completely wrecked when they were done, and both men
had bulging pockets. One even still had the scant notes Draco had been able to salvage from
what Ross had written down curled in a grubby, gloved hand.

"See, the Dark Lord did say you could stay here, safe and sound, little Malfoy," the senior
Goyle, father of one of his own former 'friends', "But the situation's changed, see? He jus'
wan'ed you to stay right where he knew you were... until he either had need of you, or didn't
have need of you. See what I'm gettin' at? You're a liability, now. An even bigger one,
considerin' you just got seven o' my mates killed!"

The next cutting curse was deep. Deep enough that Draco didn't feel the pain for at least
seven or eight seconds after it opened up his chest. What he did feel was a searing, burning
cold in both of his lungs as air, unwarmed by passage through his body, hit the sensitive sacs
there. Then a rush of warmth spilled down his chest, and fluid started filling his lungs, too.
"I... I..."

"Oh, your fekkin' job was done, yeah, you shite," Goyle growled, leaning in over the whores
and tugging up his mask, "you got that Cabinet workin' mighty well. Straight fekkin' into the
fekkin' lake, where a bunch o' Merfolk tore our boys to shreds!" The last statement was
punctuated by another roar, and the Cruciatus curse lanced across his body.

It was nothing compared to what he had felt under the Dark Lord's punishment, but Draco
knew it didn't matter. Without a Healer, in very short order, he would die. So what did the
pain matter? All he could do was protest, "No, I... it... it was... the room of... hidden..." he
coughed, and blood sprayed upward along with a surge of cold in his chest again.

Goyle Senior only wiped the red flecks from his jaw with a sadistic, furious grin, "Don't feel
too bad, Malfoy... your father and mother are gettin' their rightful place set up, too. Both of
'em jus' lumps o' flesh for us loyal servants of the Dark Lord, ain't they, boys?"

"Sure is," the shorter of the two others chuckled, "I gotta say, I like buggerin' Missus Malfoy
more, but old Luscious sure do know how to treat a todger!"

"L- Lies," Draco coughed.

"Oh, I reckon it's not," Goyle growled, then looked down, "Though I do reckon we'll be takin'
your used girls here for the boys to share. This one's young enough she might still be stretchy
at least. Imperio. Imperio."

With the two women just as lost to reality as they had been for weeks or months, neither
really even reacted as Goyle ordered them up. "Now, you sluts should just go please my
mates while your former master watches on with his last breath. See, Malfoy... the Dark Lord
does reward those who follow orders. Those who fuck things up... well, they get a different
sort o' reward. They get to watch that reward get given to others. So go on there, breathe
deep... keep on bleedin', jus' like my mates bled out all over into the lake at Hogwarts. Go on.
Enjoy the sluts enjoyin' a real dick for once."
Slowly, Draco Malfoy's vision faded. The last coherent thought he had was, "No... No... they
can't all be that big... no, the girls told me I was large..."

Gregorovitch Goyle might have ended him with a piercing hex between the eyes, but Draco
Malfoy was already gone at the time.

The young miss Ross was clear enough, in the face of an arguably weaker Imperious curse, to
throw free her shackles long enough to hex herself to death shortly before arriving at Malfoy
Manor. Of the nameless whore Draco had destroyed, little was ever found. She was, sadly,
neither the first nor the last to go missing in those dark times.

Something out of the corner of her vision caught Hermione's attention, and she looked up
from her N.E.W.T. Charms book, which she had already read through and cast every spell
from at least once already in the year. The Common Room was busy as always for shortly
after dinner, as students from all years socialized, studied, or... well, these days there was a
lot of snogging and other things, too. But at least, she noted with an idle glance toward Ron
who sat across from her that most of the older students kept their hands in semi-decent places
while the younger years were present.

That was all normal enough. What was less normal was that strange splotch of deep, dark
green in Parvati Patil's magical aura.

She blinked, then shook her head. No... it was normal, now that she thought about it. The
twin hadn't looked all that different at any time since Hermione had gained Magium Sibyllis
after receiving her second Rune set in the faux library. Padma, she remembered with a
moment to recall the data from her highly organized mind, looked quite similar in the color
display to her twin, but their patterns were near mirror opposites.

It wasn't that they looked unusual, necessarily, it was just that...

A sweep of the Common Room again told Hermione that she was not in fact imagining
things. There were perhaps twenty-seven students all told, counting herself, and their own
auras were as unique as their fingerprints as far as she could tell. They changed throughout
the day and with each student's mood, but by and large each was fairly stable. As stable as
they could be given the hormones of adolescence, at any rate. More than that, there were
many patterns that repeated throughout the student body.

Most Gryffindors, for example, had a healthy dose of warm, redder colors in their aura, while
Hufflepuffs tended to yellow and browns, Ravenclaws to light blues and whites, and
Slytherins to deep reds, violets, and, of course, greens. It was odd now that she thought of it,
that a color Hermione had come to associate with happiness and self-actualization (not that
most magicals would know the term) would be so common in that House, but it was what she
had observed.

Seeing a darker version of the color on Parvati had been what caught her attention, and now
that it had, Hermione found herself quite curious as to why it was just those two out of the
entire student body she had seen with that particular color.
She had seen magic of that color before, several times. Recently, in fact, when Madame
Pomfrey had given her a small dose of Skele-Gro, and then in brief flashes before that when
she had been treating her and Luna's other minor injuries. That had only lent credence, in
Hermione's mind, to the deep green being associated with health and healing, but she could
not think of why.

It was just a little bit now, as it often was, but as Lavender Brown joined her best friend near
the portrait hole carrying a few towels from the showers upstairs and a bottle of what looked
like lotion, the green spread slightly. It did again, and then shot tendrils down Parvati's arm as
it covered one of Lavender's. The blonde's free hand, she noted, was rubbing at her opposite
shoulder, the one carrying the towels, and she was frowning. No... grimacing. In discomfort,
perhaps pain.

The two girls exchanged a few quiet words, and Parvati's hand replaced Lavender's as they
stepped out of the portrait hole, the green glow intensifying in her arm.

Before she could truly analyze what she had seen, Ron burped loudly and leaned back in his
own chair. "Ah... I don't want to do this Charms homework. Three feet on Cleaning Charms?
Mum had us master those when we were still in nappies."

"Practical application maybe," Hermione replied without looking at her lover, then slapped
her own book shut. "I'll be back in a bit. Talk to you later- Don't wait up if I'm not back."

"H- Hermione? Where are you going? You know Harry's alright, right? He's with Lyra and
Dumbledore."

"I know that," the witch murmured, rolling her eyes. If she were honest, knowing Harry was
out of the castle, out of her ability to help, was bothering her, but she trusted the Succubus
probably more than she should, Dumbledore more than that, and Harry most of all. It wasn't
like she was worried, not really. She just wanted... a distraction. Something different.

And whatever that deep green color was, whatever was bothering Lavender, now a lover in
her own right if second-hand, was of concern. "See you later," the bookworm said again as
she spelled her books and homework to fly into her bag even while it lifted to her shoulder.

She didn't do more than shrug to Ron's last question of, "Library?", because she didn't know
where she was going.

Once the Fat Lady's portrait had closed behind her, Hermione debated using a modified Point
Me spell to find her friends, but thought against it. Maybe if it was necessary. "Excuse me, do
you know where Lavender and Parvati went?" she asked, turning around.

The heavy-set woman jumped, half-way out of the portrait as if she was not expecting to be
called on so recently for a second time. "I, er, no, not particularly... but they were talking
about a massage, an injury that Miss Brown sustained the previous evening, I think."

"Ah, thank you," Hermione nodded.

There would be only three places the girls would go, then. The Hospital Wing was always a
possibility, but the towels and lotion implied to her that Parvati might have offered to take
care of it herself. It was known in their dormitory that both Patils were learning massage
techniques from their grandmother during the summer break.

That meant Harry's Suite, if Lavender elected to do it there (she would have gotten Harry's,
Ron's, or Hermione's permission to do so, wouldn't she?), and that left just one more option:
The Room of Requirement.

Hermione started walking quickly, and was rewarded a few minutes later when she caught the
tail end of Parvati's robes turning the last corner onto the seventh-floor corridor where
Barnabus the Barmy's tapestry hung opposite the Room itself. "Parvati, Lavender," she
called, and found both waiting for her when she caught up a few seconds later.

"What's up, Hermione?" Parvati asked as she turned the corner herself.

"Nothing, well, nothing too important," Hermione stammered, wondering to herself now why
she'd bothered chasing them down. Seeing Padma, Parvati's twin sister, approach from the
opposite end of the hall, which was closer to Ravenclaw's own tower, jogged her memory as
the same green was quite visible in the more studious sister's aura as well. "Er, well, I
suppose I just had a few questions for you. But first, I noticed you seemed a little
uncomfortable, Lavender. Are you okay?"

The other girls shared a quick glance as Padma came closer, and the blonde shrugged with
her uninjured side alone. "Not really, I pulled a muscle, um- doing something, yesterday."

The significant look she shot Hermione's way was enough to tell her that that "something"
was more appropriately described as "someone" and in an adventurous fashion. That she
didn't want Parvati to know about it when Lavender was hardly shy about being among, or
even hands-down the most promiscuous girl in their House in any year, was saying
something. She could help keep it secret easily enough, though. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Is
there anything I can do to help? I know a few basic healing spells, of course, but if it's a real
injury you should probably see Madam Pomfrey."

"Oh, no, it's not that bad," Lavender replied, "Parvati and Padma are both pretty good at
massage, so they should be able to fix me up pretty quickly. Of course, if for some reason it
doesn't work, I'll head to the Hospital Wing. You don't have to worry about me, Hermione."

She nodded, accepting both statements. "Alright, well... I don't suppose you'd be interested in
letting me watch...? I'm rather interested in massage myself. I don't think I have the patience
to learn the skill really, but I'd be quite pleased to simply watch and observe. That is, if you're
all comfortable with that...?"

Padma, who had arrived in time to hear Hermione, shrugged, a blushing just enough to be
visible on her beautiful brown skin and glanced at the others, "Honestly, I'm surprised Parvati
is here, but I... don't mind if you watch. At least, most of it. I thought Lavender just called
me. Not that I mind... sharing the work."
Lavender surprised all three other girls by blushing even deeper as she looked between the
twins, then determinedly at Hermione, "No, I don't mind if you watch, Hermione."

The twins still sent each other a couple of glances as Parvati walked back and forth in front of
the Room's hidden door, the younger twin looking a bit confused and, maybe, a little hurt.
That she thought Lavender would only invite Padma, maybe...?

After both Hindi witches had walked into the Room of Requirement, Lavender's hand landed
on Hermione's arm quickly. "Sorry, I couldn't say it in front of Parv. We, Padma and I, were...
experimenting with each other. Parvati might be jealous. It's actually good you're here, I don't
think it'll come up with you there. That's how I hurt my shoulder, we were trying something
from her Kama Sutra."

Hermione did a double-take before she stopped again and hissed, "You and Padma are lovers,
too? Wouldn't that strain, um, things, with Parvati?"

"Only if she knows. I don't like keeping secrets from her, but... well, Pad let something slip. I
kind of think they'd be open to, well, to Harry's... thing. Our thing. I just... don't know how to
bring it up. Given that they're, you know..."

"Ah, I see the problem," Hermione murmured, holding up a finger to both girls inside. They
could see each other through the door, but they all knew by now that sound didn't pass from
one side to the other very well, as if it was actually the solid wall it was most of the time.
"I'll... Well, I might have an idea on that front. "It's not so different from the Weasleys, after
all. You're sure you want me there?"

"Please," Lavender begged, "I feel like it'll be so awkward if Padma wants to go further than
just, you know, a massage, but Parvati isn't ready for that, yet. We've only practiced snogging
a bit."

"A lot, from what I've heard," Hermione teased, but gave her friend and lover a gentle shove
to the small of her back, "Don't worry, it'll all work out. I'm really interested in seeing just
how worked up a slag like you gets with two hot twins working her over."

"H- Hermione!"

It was too late to respond, they were already inside, and the bookworm was pulling the door
shut behind her.
 Falling(?)

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 50 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Chap. 76: Falling(?)

To her credit as a Healer and Nurse, Poppy Pomfrey did not panic when a woman who, for all
intents and purposes, looked like a Hell-spawned demon appeared in her infirmary, carrying
what looked very much like the now one-legged corpse of her boss. What she did do, was
whip out her wand and burst into a flurry of motion and spellcasting.

Beds rearranged themselves along one wall, taking their side-tables, curtains, and visitor's
chairs with them in seconds. Potions flew outward in a long line from the suddenly unlocked
store-cupboard, and sigils flared to life on the center of the now-cleared stone floor. The first
words she asked were, "What happened," followed quickly by, "Where's Mr. Potter?"

"I can't tell you," Lilith replied to the second question first, "but I'm going to get him as soon
as you take the Headmaster. No, really, I can't. Some magic is preventing me from saying the
name."

"Fidelius," Poppy grumbled, then jerked her chin toward the circle of runes on the floor,
"Place him there, as flat as you can get him, then return with Mr. Potter. How did the
Headmaster collapse? What happened to his leg?"

"There was a snake bite, he- Dumbledore- begged Harry to cut off the leg before the poison
spread further. Harry did, and then Dumbledore did some other magic. Something ancient,
powerful. Very powerful. Words that sounded like... thousands of languages, all at once. The-
the thing we were after was safe after that, and Dumbledore explained a bit of what he was
doing, then he said he couldn't stand. I caught him half-way down, but he was already
unconscious."

"So some sort of virulent venom, likely magical if it spread that quickly, or the effect of a
curse, and the effects of powerful magic on an old body whose owner should know better."

"Something like that," Lilith agreed as she straightened from laying the headmaster down as
the Healer instructed, "Anything else you need from me before I get Master?"

"No, no, bring him straight back here, though. I'll need to check him, too."
"That's the plan," the Succubus agreed, "Oh, and we aren't sure how my Shadow Step would
have affected Dumbledore, either. It's safer if you're unconscious to start, but it's described as
quite cold for a human, so he might be suffering from that, too. Or having had his soul pulled
out."

Before Madam Pomfrey could look up in horror and shock, the Succubus disappeared in a
whirl of black flames and pink smoke, just as she had appeared.

It was oddly quiet around the old Gaunt Shack, Harry decided. The last many minutes,
perhaps an hour or so, had been a storm of chaos and frantic action. From the first wards, to
the huge, army-like mass of snakes that had swarmed them, to trying to keep up with
Dumbledore's lightning-fast spellwork and keep them safe, to cutting off the leg of the old
man he thought of as a surrogate grandfather at the knee...

Harry shuddered, but that still wasn't everything. The Shack itself had been horrifying. Not
for the old, mouldering mess and remains, but for what it had represented. The home of
Voldemort's squib-like mother, the abuses that had been heaped on her for years, the
generations before that as the family descended into inbred madness, and... and what came
after.

The Horcrux.

It had not put up quite the fight that Harry thought it would. He thought it might have some
dark, twisted magic to confuse, to incite, or even directly attack or control one who wanted to
destroy it. The Diary had certainly done so with Ginny and, later, Harry. If the diary was, as
Dumbledore suspected, the first one Voldemort had created, would not a later one be even
more dangerous?

But no, aside from the enchantments around the hovel and the tricks inside it, the Horcrux did
not seem to have the same ability to fight back. The shade of sixteen year old Voldemort,
Harry's own age now, had mentioned that Ginny had poured her heart and soul out to the
Diary, and that had let him in. Was that the reason why? Had he been protected by Lilith's
bond with himself, and Dumbledore simply guarded his thoughts and feelings well enough
that Voldemort could not even truly start?

There was, he supposed, no way to be sure. Still, he was alone. Well and truly alone, for
perhaps the first time since he cast the ritual that Summoned his pet Succubus. At the Castle
there were always people around, students, teachers, his friends, his lovers, and of course
Lilith herself. At Sirius' house his godfather was there, and at his relatives'... well, they had
been present too.

Here, outside the small village - hamlet might be a better term, Harry's old history lessons
had taught him - of Little Hangleton, on the south end of England, there was... well, basically
no one.

The last people who lived at the hidden Gaunt Shack had died a decade or more ago
according to Dumbledore, and they had walked through at least a half-mile of wooded trail
after leaving the worn road. Little Hangleton itself had a population of maybe two hundred,
and was more than a mile down the valley, with a great many trees, shrubs, and more
between them.

Now that Dumbledore was gone, possibly dying, poisoned, and maimed (Harry briefly
imagined the aged wizard with a metallic enchanted leg like his friend, Mad-Eye Moody had,
making him smile a bit sadly), with Lilith transporting him with an ability that might well kill
him, he was the only one within... Well, who knew how far, really?

All that was left were the memories.

The ones he, his Succubus, and and the Headmaster had made just recently as they fought
their way into the shack and destroyed the Horcrux, yes, of course.

But there were older ones here, too.

Harry relaxed his body and mind, sure that the danger had largely passed. Voldemort's
defenses had been broken by their combined efforts, and the Horcrux itself was no more.
Instead of tension, anxiety, and yes, he had to admit, fear, Harry let his senses flow outward.

There was so much pain here, echoes from decades long gone, from people just as lost to the
depths of time. Morfin Gaunt was the source of a lot of it for Merope, his sister. He had not
only abused her physically, verbally, emotionally, but Harry got the impression that he had
used her sexually as often as their father had.

Too often, in other words.

It was one thing for two consenting people like the Weasleys to enjoy each other, especially
since it was highly unlikely they could or would have an inbred child, but this was
something... else.

He knew from the echoes of her pain that Merope Gaunt's descendant, Tom Marvolo Riddle,
had been the fourth child she had conceived. Two had been her father's, and one her brother's.
None had lived long, too twisted and broken by generations of inbreeding to have any sort of
normal life. One, he thought with horror, had actually been stepped on shortly after it was
born by Marvolo, 'to keep from having another mouth to feed'.

Harry shuddered with revulsion. These people had all been sick. Even Merope, pitiable as she
was, as much as he understood why she had sought escape, had wrought so much evil in the
world. Her love potion-induced pregnancy had resulted, after all, in Voldemort.

Was he any better?

In the silence of the Shack, where the only sound was the whisper of leaves in the breeze and
the low moan of the air through the shattered rafters, Harry once more questioned every
decision he had made in the last many months.

Summoning Lilith had, as Hermione claimed, changed him. Changed him greatly. Love
Potions... they had resulted in Voldemort. Someone without, as Dumbledore claimed (and
Harry firmly believed) the capacity to love. How was it different, though, from what he had
done?

Fog of Lust, the scaly little flecks of pink that Lilith had used, starting with his first night
with Daphne Greengrass, did much the same, did it not? She claimed differently, and her
logic did seem to ring true, but... was it really so different? Magnifying what was there was
not that far off from creating something completely artificial, was it?

Then Pansy, and Romilda, and to a lesser extent Lavender... would any of them be with him
without the Succubus?

He had definitely developed feelings for all of them. Hermione and Ginny, of course, though
he doubted both would be willing to be his lovers at the same time without Lilith. Daphne...
she had only been dosed once, then admitted afterward that she would not object strongly to
another night like that. She had initiated Tracey using her virginity as a ritual component on
her own, the Slytherins all had. He still didn't know what the thing was for, either. Now both
were his in a way, almost as much as they were each other's. Pansy... probably among, if not
the, worst he'd done.

She had been expecting Draco, after all, and he'd used her relentlessly, even mocked her
while shagging her silly. The Fog alone had made her enjoy it, he suspected, but could not
quite be sure. She seemed to like being taken and used, after all, but... was that artificial, too?

Lavender might not be his girl, but she could have been, maybe. She certainly wouldn't be
entertaining half of Gryffindor every week, without him claiming her and turning her loose as
his 'gift' to the House.

Mandy Brocklehurst was dead, because he was willing to make use of her tied-up body and
listened to her very compromised wish to stay there and get more information. Likely, her
killer would be brought to justice eventually, but Harry did not know if it was Malfoy, Nott,
or someone else who had done the deed.

Fleur... Merlin, he'd ruined her and Bill's marriage. Possibly driven Bill to an early grave
from heart failure. She was not mad at him, her, their time in the future Potter Manor had
proved that, but how different would the future be, if only he was not such a lust-addled arse?

He honestly couldn't say, "At least I'm mature enough now to know I'm messed up," he
murmured into the vacant space, chuckling at the irony of it all.

Part of him wanted to simply agree with Hermione and Lilith that the Dursleys had, by giving
him a love-starved upbringing, created the Harry that had done such things. Summoning
Lilith had itself been a desperate act by a truly lonely (and randy) teenage boy. That part, he
knew, was true.

But blaming it all on the Dursleys took away his choice.

That, Harry knew, had always been his alone.

He had chosen to take out his anger and frustration, his loneliness, his hormones, on his
friends and foes alike, and now most of them were quite firmly at his side... one way or the
other. It was done, now, and he could not change the past.

Harry didn't even know if he wanted to. Some, yes, he would definitely change if he could
have. Romilda would have been asked, rather than made the broken shell of a young woman
she had become, for one. Mandy would likely still be alive, because Harry would have freed
her the first night he had found her (after, probably, making use of her as she had requested).

Fleur may still have been with Bill.

But aside from those things, Harry could not allow himself, and did not want to, feel much
regret. Not anymore. Pansy was a better person now, Daphne and Tracey were happy with
him as their lover, even if it was scary to share each other. Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Lavender,
they all wanted him badly now.

Luna Lovegood, for Merlin's sake, had been shagging a tentacled plant-girl for a year longer
than Lilith had even been in the picture, so Harry truly could not blame her for his actions
that day. He couldn't even change how he had reacted to the snakes overwhelming them,
distracting the Headmaster from the snake that had bitten him in the end. He couldn't give the
old wizard his leg back. He couldn't have changed whatever had made him pass out.

This day...

Well, he could do something about what he did with the rest of it.

There were many memories here. The shattered planter box, the chest full of old clothes, the
mess and mouldering dishes... He could do something about that. Harry's right hand lifted,
wand free, and in his palm a glowing, purple-violet flame began to flicker and grow. The egg
he held in his left seemed to warm further at the action, which caused a momentary
distraction, but the flames did not flicker in anything but the light wind.

The clothes that had held Voldemort's Horcrux as if it was some jeweler's pad were the first
to ignite, and Harry tossed the ball of fire toward it almost casually, his face expressionless.

The cookware went next, the planter box after, and the bed fourth. By then, he was snarling, a
lifetime's worth of pain fueling each blast of Passion Fire. Moments later, a final bolt
smashed against the rafters overhead with a roar of long-pent-up anger and fury.

Then Harry turned, his Succubus-given empathic abilities no longer needed. Those emotions,
that pain, he had bottled up for so long... he left it amid the ruins of Voldemort's old family
home. The emotions there stoked the flames higher, hotter, and brighter as he moved out into
the yard and turned back to face the old house.

When Lilith arrived a minute or so later, the ramshackle building was barely more than a
smoldering frame, the emotion-driven fires had consumed it almost completely in moments.
"Master?"
"I'm alright, Lilith," he answered quietly, sending her a brief glance and a soft smile, "That
was fairly therapeutic. Ah... the egg here, it warmed up when I used Passion Fire. Still pretty
warm now, actually."

"Strange," the Succubus murmured, looking down at the round object he held aloft, "I'm not
sure what would do that. Any emotion-driven creature, in theory, but I've no idea what. Your
world's flora and fauna weren't exactly my area of expertise. I very much focused on human
psychology and our own magic."

"Hm. Is Dumbledore alive?" He felt like a heel for not asking it first, but she had been the
first to speak after all, and it would have been rude to not answer the unfinished question.

"Last I looked, about... thirty seconds ago. He survived the Shadow Step, at least. While your
Healer was concerned, she wasn't panicking."

"Good. We should go back once the flames die out."

"Yes. I can douse them...?"

"No," he shook his head with a small smile as he turned back toward the last remnants of a
horrid past, "No, I think I'd just like to watch those memories die."

"Sounds good, then. You... You know we all love you, right? I sense your turmoil."

"I know, Lilith. I love you all, too. Now, hush- listen. Can you feel the screams the Gaunts
inflicted on each other? I'm glad to see them go."

"Unfortunately, yes," she answered with a frown, "that's why I wanted to go. It's so... ugly.
Not at all passion or happiness."

"No. But it's almost gone, they're so faint now. Just a few more... there. Alright, my love.
Let's go home."

A moment later, they were gone, and even the smoking remains quickly went out.

No trace of the Gaunt Shack, its memories, or the tragic history of the place and its family
was found by humankind again. Nature, once the darkness had been burned away, quickly
reclaimed its own, after all.

They appeared in the Hospital Wing hand in hand, just as they had vanished from the ruins,
but the situation there was not as peaceful and quiet as the one Harry and Lilith just left.

"Pomona! I need two bottles of Blood-Replenishing Potion! Minerva! hold those straps
tightly! It's no use keeping circulation going if his magic rips his body to shreds anyway!
Horace! your strongest Magic Replenishing Potion, as quickly as you can brew one! We
won't be able to hold him much longer, and the rate he's pouring energy out will kill him
quickly! It's only a question of whether we or he dies first!"
The Healer was directing some of the most skilled spellcasters in the United Kingdom like
her own personal orchestra, while her wand was conducting an entirely different symphony.
Potion bottles still flew through the air, bits and bobs of each's contents lifting out with a
glance alone measuring them before the hastily portioned liquids, oils, unguents, and fluids
flew down the oldest wizard Harry knew mouth, or poured themselves onto lesions and sores
that had broken out all over Dumbledore's body.

His robes had been cut away as he floated, back arched as if he were on some medieval
torture implement, with his torso some three feet in the air, his hands and remaining ankle
held by rune-encrusted bandages to some sort of anchor in a circle of sigils on the floor that
glowed with a violent, deep red glow, pulsing and shaking with every tremor Dumbledore
made.

Her instructions given, the professors redoubled their efforts, and Pomfrey turned her
attention to the newcomers, "Potter! Tell me everything! The snake your friend mentioned,
the spells used, everything!"

Stammering, with a hesitant glance at the other concentrating professors, he told her
everything he could. How the Headmaster had taken him and Lilith to a secret location, and
undone many powerful protections cast by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, then fought
against the swarm of snakes. The one that had bitten him, prompting Dumbledore to require
Harry to cut off his leg. The Shack, and the destruction of 'something that tethered Voldemort
to this world'.

Horace Slughorn had paled slightly at the mention of it, which occurred just as he returned,
huffing and puffing, with a small, dusty vial, "Had- had one in my stores, Poppy, lucky
enough. It's old, potent, but not the best I've made. I'll go work on another right now!"

"Excellent, Horace," Pomfrey cried, and the glowing silvery-blue liquid that flew out of the
crystal vial completely vanished into Dumbledore's mouth a moment later. The Headmaster's
body convulsed again, then started trembling as a blue-white aura rippled out of him almost
like a vibrating bubble. It went out to a space of about eight feet, and as it hit Professor
Flitwick and McGonagall, who were closest, they were knocked back, the shorter wizard
falling to his rump with the impact.

"Hold it, hold it," Pomfrey cried, her own wand momentarily flicking to the space on
Dumbledore's missing leg had been held by the Charms Professor while he recovered his feet
and re-cast his spell. Harry wanted to help, wanted to do something, anything, to help his
mentor, but he did not dare add a voice to the chaos, much less just start adding spellwork
willy-nilly. Instead, like he had done when Luna had been attacked what felt like forever ago
(Was it really just a day? Two days?), Harry was forced to be silent, still, to hold himself back
while those who actually knew what they were doing went about their business.

He hated it.

But there was nothing else he could do, while the Matron who had caused him so much
personal grief and her assistants, his teachers, fought to save the leader of their school, their
friend.
The most fallible, imperfect, dangerous, powerful, wisest, and foolish person he knew.

Harry did not know tears were running down his face until Lilith pulled him into a hug, still
in her battle-form, and wiped some of the salt water from his cheeks with a kiss.

Hermione watched in awe as the green energy moved from both of the Patil twins down their
arms in different ways, surging and soaking in bits and flecks into Lavender's more muted but
shining, pink and violet aura. From there, they were quickly absorbed, especially around the
more violent coloration that suggested her injury. She had already noted that a witch or
wizard's aura of magic changed if they were injured, but she had not yet truly witnessed
healing of this kind.

Poppy Pomfrey's spellcasting when she had bandaged her fingers was one thing, and only a
little of it had been this green color, so very like that of the Killing Curse, but so very, very
different in nature.

The effect the twins' massage was having on Lavender was obvious, even without magical
vision. Her pain had not been that bad, of course, little more than a strained muscle, but it
was enough to be annoying. The position she and Padma must have tried, no doubt modified
from the majority heterosexual positions listed in the Kama Sutra, was a point of interest to
the increasingly sex-addicted Gryffindor, but Hermione was above all else a woman of
learning. While she could and did value whatever position could have done this (likely many
of them were hard to pull off properly, after all, at least for a beginner who was not well-
versed in Yoga or other Ayurvedic practices), it was the healing that came afterward that most
fascinated her.

Holistic healing seemed rather silly if taken from a purely muggle standpoint, though she and
her mother had always appreciated the health benefits of eating well and regular exercise. But
with magic taken into account, it made far more sense. As Parvati and Padma, more the latter
to no one's surprise, had explained to Hermione as she asked one question after another
during the process, Ayurvedic practice in general had begun with Hindu magicals, and only
spread after a century or more to the muggle population of the Indian subcontinent.

Parvati's aura flowed downward onto Lavender's like a slow-motion waterfall or stream,
melding and mixing in a whirlpool of color before it withdrew as her hands pulled away from
pressing down on one muscle or another, and left trails when she dragged an oil-slicked hand
or wrist or even elbow (which seemed like it should be painful but always made Lavender
groan with relief instead of pain) along the blonde's body. Padma, on the other hand, had a
more solid, staid aura that left controlled spirals of the green flecks moving downward
around her arms in a corkscrew, and each and every bit seemed to land where it was most
needed

Together, the pair had not only relieved the pain of Lavender's shoulder muscles, but released
tension and tightness across her entire body on the back side in under twenty minutes. When
the girl was prompted to roll over, even Hermione wasn't surprised to see her bare form
revealed to all three. She had seen it enough over the last weeks, after all, to be well used to
it.
Morgana only knew how often she had gone down on the little slut, or Lavender had gone
down on her in her efforts to service Hermione between study sessions or other lovers.

Harry's personal slave was, after all, a beautiful example of feminine grace and strength. For
all her classwork had once been slipshod, barely satisfactory, Lavender had taken Hermione's
help with homework very seriously in an effort to please her new master. Her grades,
predictably, had shot upward to the point that now she was among the highest in Gryffindor,
right alongside Ron, just below Harry and Hermione herself.

How Harry's grades had gotten so good, when just a few weeks ago Professor McGonagall
had seen fit to publicly reprimand him and Hermione for falling behind, was a testament to
his own work ethic when properly motivated. After all, after calling out the Professor for her
own (admittedly rude) behavior, he could not very well slack off himself. No, he had to prove
he was right by, well... Giving the older witch what she wanted.

Which, Hermione conceded, had probably been included in her favorite teacher's plan from
the beginning. At any rate, the goal had been achieved: All of them were more focused on
school-work. Not more than sex, of course, that would just be ridiculous. But with sex as a
reward once more, it became far easier to get things done and get them done well.

Lavender had also not let her physical duties, satisfying the needs of those who asked, if
Harry and his other friends didn't have need of her that night, slide. In fact, she partook of
that particular duty whenever she could, and occasionally she didn't even wait until the
younger years were gone before giving out hand-jobs to those who asked.

At least the blowjobs, cunnilingus, and outright shagging in the common room waited until
even the fourth-years (mostly) were gone.

Hermione found her mouth watering just a little, along with a distinct moisture in her groin,
when the dusky brown girls put their hands on her friend and lover once more. It was entirely
professional, at least to her own inexpert eye, but still she watched as Lavender's pink nipples
puckered and rose into the air. The blonde witch was totally relaxed, but her aura was
increasingly pink: a color Hermione had come to associate with Lilith, and more generally,
those who carried her people's Runes. It shone even brighter from each of them as they
became aroused. And, judging by the intensity and hue, not to mention the increasingly
erratic, and spiky edges of Lavender's aura, she was very, very aroused, and growing more so
by the moment.

Hermione was herself, come to think of it. What would it feel like to have the twins' silky,
oily hands caress her, mold her body beneath their powerful fingers, to work out her own
tensions? Amazing, she was sure, if that word was even adequate.

She wanted to experience it herself, yes, absolutely. But for now, she would be content to
watch. Watch as Parvati gave her sister a questioning look, their hands working
automatically. Watch Padma, less familiar to Hermione despite their similarities in
personality, but so familiar in appearance, hesitate, then nod. As one, both girls stepped from
where they had moved down to Lavender's soft, painted toenails to each press two hands
around Lavender's full, firm breasts.
The girl sighed, and whispered, "I'm happy you're both doing this."

Parvati asked, just as quietly, "How- how long have you two been, um..."

"Intimate?" her twin asked.

Parvati nodded, and Padma gave a one-shouldered little shrug, her eyes never leaving the
breast she was working and twisting with both hands, one set of fingers occasionally delving
deep into the pectoral muscle beneath it, the other seemingly now focused on pleasure, "Just
once... a week or so ago? Six days, yes."

Lavender made a small, "Mm, hmm," noise, then more clearly, "Goddesses, that feels so
good. My tits are always so heavy, it pulls on them really hard."

"They're beautiful, though," Padma reminded her, "All the blokes, and I, think so."

"That's right," her sister agreed, "I... I always kind of felt a little jealous of them, Lav. And
now I know my sister's been able to go further than our practice sessions ever did."

The blonde's eyes opened, and Hermione watched in further awe and growing joy too as she
told her best friend, "Then go just as far. Padma doesn't mind sharing, does she?"

The more serious twin blinked, looking up from the tit she was manhandling to Lavender's
face, then Parvati's, and then Hermione's, "I- I, er-"

Hermione herself only shrugged casually, wanting nothing more at that moment than for
Parvati to do just that, if only to encourage more. More of this, more chances to watch them
work, more massages, more, just, everything happening in the Room of Requirement right
then, "I'm fine just watching this time," left unsaid was the fact that 'this time' did not mean
'every time', but she wanted to make it clear she wasn't leaving, either. She wasn't giving up
this opportunity unless she absolutely had to. She had to distract herself from whatever
danger Harry was in, after all.

"It, um... it wouldn't be the first time," Padma whispered, just loud enough Hermione could
make it out, then leaned over to kiss her sister across Lavender's supine body.

Parvati moaned into it, and broke it off only several seconds later, "Are you sure, Pad? You
know... what I want. If we're going to... to do this, with her and... well, with Hermione here...
You know what it means."

Padma nodded, "I'm... in. You're always enough... but if I can have more? I'm a selfish sister,
but I want it. I want more. I want all of them, all the girls Harry Potter is stealing for
himself."

"Even if he's going to shag you, too?"

She shrugged at Parvati's question, "It wouldn't be the first time he's claimed a lesbian."

Hermione agreed, "It's true."

Parvati suddenly squealed, her beautiful, sari-clad body shaking, "I can't believe it! I get to be
in Harry's harem! Awesome! Oh, Lav, we're gonna make you feel so fucking good!"

The twins kissed again, then lowered their mouths to Lavender's nipples, instead.

Soon she was writhing on the table, and Hermione had to change position to better see as
they moved one hand over the blonde's body, caressing, spreading more oil, kneading...

Goddesses and demons, they were so good at making her squirm! She wanted them on her
own body so badly!

Then Parvati and Padma, together, as if they had the exact thought at the exact moment as
their twin, both shoved a single finger inside Lavender's twat. She squealed, and her hips
bucked. Just that single insertion made her squirt a spray of clear fluid over the white cloth
between her legs, splashing against both browned arms, and even splattering Hermione's
more distant robes a bit.

She just barely resisted the urge to lap up the delicious flavor. Maybe if they were doing a
ritual orgy, when everyone was a bit out of control... but no, not just now, watching three
other girls have a bit of fun. No, that would be unseemly.

For now.

After she had climaxed once, the girls moved a little. Parvati went downward, shifting to
explore her best friend's private parts a little more intimately. She kneaded, folded, and
prodded, spread Lavender's delicious lips for Hermione and herself to both get a good look at
the tender pink insides (So that was the particular hue of Lilith's hair! How had she never
made the correlation before?), then pushed two full fingers inside this time, before she began
sawing them in and out at a fast pace.

Parvati, meanwhile, kept one hand moving back and forth between Lavender's round boobs,
then kissed her, instead. It was clear to Hermione that the two had done it before, because
while there was a little awkwardness, there wasn't much hesitation. Only a slightly
embarrassed giggle on Padma's end as their noses bumped, with each tilting in the same
direction on the first attempt.

Then their tongues started tangling, and all embarrassment went out the proverbial window.

"Damn it," Hermione muttered to herself, then shrugged off her robes, too. They fell to the
floor in a wash of black, but she didn't hesitate a moment to push down her skirt and
knickers, too. She was already masturbating her own twat when the thin cotton underwear
she wore only out of habit these days joined the rest of her clothes. The other hand was busy
undoing the buttons on her blouse... but she didn't join the other girls.

Even if she was sure, now, that she would be allowed, she didn't want to scare them away.
But she had to get off, this was just too arousing not to do something about.

Lavender climaxed again in short order, the attention from the two gorgeous Hindi witches
just too much, apparently. The twins traded sides then, giving Lavender a taste of her own
pussy juice from Parvati's fingers, while Padma drank from the fountain directly. Her Sari
twitched and moved as she worked her own twat, but so far Parvati had refrained.

That was, at least, until Padma climbed up onto the table, her white clothing, already mostly
see-through thanks to the oil that now soaked it, discarded too.

She was so beautiful, Hermione ached to take her back to Harry's private quarters and tie her
up on the stocks, or the X-frame, or the saw-horse, and just... do things to her. All sorts of
things, everything. Transform a cock, maybe, along the lines of Lilith's own and fuck the girl
senseless. Spear the pink flesh deep and hard, break her...

She was not particularly close to Padma for all they had in common; their different Houses
had largely seen to that. It wasn't a shock, therefore, to find out she was a lesbian and that
Hermione had never noticed or known. But knowing that she, like Daphne, preferred women
but, unlike that same girl, did not have any real desire to be exclusive, it... it was tantalizing.

Ginny was enough, of course, and Lilith too, for Hermione to be satisfied. She wasn't greedy
and endlessly horny for all sorts of pleasure like Harry. But Padma, apparently, was. And she
wanted to be one of the girls to satisfy that pleasure, that need.

But for now...

For now she could only watch as Padma raised one of Lavender's legs against her perfect
chest and touched their clits together, before they began to grind, circling and dancing pussy
to cunt, both dripping and flowing with abandon.

Watching the two scissoring was gut-wrenchingly arousing, and Parvati gave up making out
with Lavender's mouth and shaking, quivering nipples after just a few seconds. Instead, she
joined Padma on top of the girl, mounting her face with a saucy smile, "It's not all about you,
Lav. My turn."

At least the blonde didn't mind, Hermione knew, because soon the twins were kissing each
other again while Padma continued to gyrate against Lavender's cunt and she licked away at
Parvati's with more skill than Hermione would have expected. She herself stepped closer,
now to the side where she had been before, with fingers plunging in and out of her own body.

She was so close...

They were so sexy, all of them...

Morgana, Circe, and even Morrigan, they were all, so... so...

"Cumming," she gasped, wide-eyed, almost embarrassed that she had climaxed first. Well,
after Lavender's first two, of course.

It seemed she triggered a chain reaction however, as Parvati gushed against Lavender's eager
mouth, giving her a drink of an entirely different sort. The tribbing girls both followed just a
few seconds later as Parvati gasped her orgasm into her twin's mouth, then Padma returned
the favor as she started coming down. Lavender, already satisfied twice, was riding the edge
with Parvati's dose of pleasure. Feeling Padma shiver and moan, her body quaking directly
over Lavender's over-stimulated clit, could not have held back for anything short of her
master's direct order.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was the first one back together enough to leave the Room of
Requirement, but she politely waited while the others recovered from their knee-weakening
climaxes, dressed, and started up a more casual, tame conversation about the benefits of
massage in general.

Completely unspoken, for now, was any talk of the almost too-lewd, but very tantalizing and
exciting, moment the four girls had shared. Each of them, thankfully, already knew it would
not be the last.
 Questionable Sanctuary

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 50 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

AND A NOTE: This chapter's gritty. Again. Not quite TW-worthy I think, but not an easy
read for sensitive folks.

AND I'M SO SORRY! I don't know why I didn't post the 1st week of Sept (honestly, I
thought I did), and the next I took the whole day off 'cause it was my birthday, and then this
last weekend I've been at a Con- which, yes, was great fun, thank you. :)
And thanks to the couple people (here and on Discord) who did actually remind me it's been
three weeks- this might've been posted at earliest tomorrow, if not for them. :)

Still, as always, if you can't wait... see that link above, and the links at the bottom of that
Discord. Ch. 112+... just sayin'. lol

Chap. 77: Questionable Sanctuary

Lilith, in her guise as Lyra Sendai once more, found Ron in the kitchens, of all places, getting
his long dick sucked by Hannah Abbot, and another Hufflepuff girl the Succubus did not
recognize at first glance. While being as randy as any other teenagers in Hogwarts,
Hufflepuffs as a general rule took care of their own, and had for ages, so most of them were
not as repressed as the other Houses.

Thus, it took a few seconds for her to recognize the girl and remember her name: Poppy
Caxton. She was pretty enough, and had dreams as lurid as any other in her dorm, but until
now had next to no sexual experience. That made sense, as she had a difficult time talking to
boys.

The same did not apparently spread to sucking dick, for the girl, a year younger than Hannah
and Ron, was licking his shaft eagerly as Hannah, far more experienced, jerked him off while
giving her a few tips.

Several House-Elves worked on the other side of the kitchen, away from the four long tables
that sat beneath the ones in the Great Hall. None, she noticed with a glance, were paying the
students any heed. Almost studiously so, as if they had been told not to watch enough times
that they simply took it for granted that they should ignore any youthful indiscretions.

Ron was the only one who looked up as she stepped through the door, but that made some
sense. The girls were more engaged, and a wave of her hand along with a flutter of invisible
wings and pink powder left the girl not 'in the know' helpless before her own lust. Not that
she hadn't been fully into sucking off Ron already. As the secondary wave of pleasure and
lust wafted over her, Hannah actually looked up, now very familiar with the feel of Lilith's
magic, "Oh, hi, Lyra. Don't mind her, Poppy, just keep doing what you're doing. Ron's loving
it, isn't he?"

"I sure am," the Weasley boy said with a grin, then waved a hello to the Succubus himself,
"You're back. You aren't fuming, so I take it Harry's okay?"

Lyra nodded, glanced at the younger girl on her knees, then stepped forward and pressed a
hand against Ron's forehead. A moment later he was grunting, as a powerful orgasm washed
through him. The girl, caught by surprise, could only swallow with wide eyes as Hannah held
her down, at least on the tip, "That's alright, Poppy, just relax. Swallow what you can- it's a
sign you did well, you know, when a boy cums in your mouth. Don't worry, you get used to
the taste and texture."

Poppy gulped again and again, Ron's secondary connection to Lilith was more than enough
for his own semen to be a lot richer, thicker, and more rapidly produced than normal, so she
was likely swallowing down more than she had ever dreamed in her relatively inexperienced
life. She went at it gamely though, until she coughed a little, gagging on it, and some went up
into her sinuses.

It was at that point that Lyra, in an act of mercy, manipulated the cum inside her body to flow
downward instead. If nothing else, they didn't need the girl to pass out because her sinuses
were full as much as her throat.

Once he was finally done, Ron sighed and pushed her away gently, prompting Hannah to
remove the hand on the back of Poppy's head, "That was really good, Poppy. I bet your
boyfriend, uh... what was his name... Kevin, will really appreciate it. You're a good teacher
too, Hannah."

A little bashfully, Hannah rubbed the back of her own head as she looked up at him, "Well,
I'm no Lyra or Hermione, but I like to think I've learned a bit. Just helping out a fellow 'Puff.
Really though, Poppy, if that trick I showed you doesn't show Kevin you're a hundred times
better than Helen Bach, then I don't know what he's thinking. I guarantee that little tart hasn't
figured out how to make a man cum like you just did. Just use the confidence this should give
you."

"Fank you," the girl tried to say through a mouthful of white goo, before she swallowed and
tried again more clearly, "Thanks, Hannah, and Ron. I never thought it'd be that fun- or that
I'd be giving my first blow-job with an audience, heh, heh... hi, uh... Lyra, right?"

"That's right," the Succubus chirped, "Now, don't take this the wrong way, but... Sleep."

The girl slumped against Ron's leg then slid to the floor. Both of Harry's friends looked up at
Lyra with a mixture of confusion and worry evident on their faces. She held up her hands
disarmingly, "Don't worry, I just had to put her out with Eye of Dominance for a bit, I don't
think this should be common knowledge. Yes, Master is alright, at least physically.
Emotionally, mentally... he's very worn out but he will survive. Dumbledore isn't though, he's
been poisoned with something bad and is in the Hospital Wing along with Master. It's best if
you guys leave them alone for now, give them time to heal. Let the others know, if you can.
I'm going to do a little something to help on my end. Alright?"

"R- Right," Ron said, then stood up firmly before hitching up and closing his trousers and
robes. His wand fell into his hand a moment later, and he levitated Poppy up into the air,
"Hannah, can you arrange her so she doesn't fall as I set her down at the bench? Thanks."

"Good thinking, Ron," the blonde replied, then did as he asked, "I'll go tell Neville, he's in the
Greenhouses."

"I guess I'll find Hermione and Ginny then," Ron nodded, "and see if either of them know
where some of the Slytherins are. If not I'll... I don't know, go wait or look in the quarters."

"I'll meet you there later then," Hannah nodded, looking concerned, just like the taller boy
was.

Once they were gone, Lyra turned to find the elves now watching her with a look of worry,
too, "Don't worry, I'm sure your boss will be fine. Your medi-witch is talented, right?
Anyway, I'm going to go help out. Bye!"

The moment she vanished into swirling shadows, the elves relaxed. They didn't need her
knowing it was her they were worried about, after all.

Nott - no longer Theodore, for he cared for the name no more than he cared for his past -
growled in triumph before he ordered his servant to resume sucking his massive cock again.
The Vampiress, well used to the order and now thoroughly conditioned, did not hesitate to
obey. His member broke her open and ruined her throat, but the magic that kept her alive and
dead at the same time regenerated the body as quickly as his size ruined it.

All in all, it was quite a pleasant experience, and he had already known the Vampiress
enjoyed pain as much as the pleasure the rope around her neck gave. Good, yes, that was as it
should be.

The Master would be pleased with him.

His task was complete. Complete, just like he was! A finished creation, final, perfect!

He was by far the superior of the two, of course. Only a fool would fail to see that, and Nott
was no fool. Not anymore. He had been foolish once, arrogant, prideful, lustful. He still felt
that last one, but it no longer ruled him, just as it no longer ruled his master. Pride? No - that
was for lesser, imperfect beings. Arrogance? What need have he of it? Just look at him!

Indeed, Nott did look at himself in the large, wide mirror someone had graciously provided
him and his companion. The Vampiress still preened in front of it nightly, in an effort to look
good for him. He didn't care, it kept her amused while he worked. And he did appreciate the
way she looked, of course. The bed had long since shattered under their rutting, the clothes
torn and shredded by his claws as she had worn one thing then another for his amusement.
Now she went around naked, as she should, available for his pleasure at all times. Clad only
in her rope... as she should be.

Nott was a gargantuan creature now, some twenty feet tall, with thick, gray skin as hard as
any dragon hide, knotted and ridged with muscle and spines and thick blastocysts to provide
just a bit more protection to the softer insides. The thicker spines moved up the outside of his
wrists up to his elbows, and the front of his lower legs to his knees, where great spikes,
several inches long, composed of black, twisted bone, and made stronger than naturally
possible by magic, served as close-range weapons - not that he needed them. Nott was
prodigiously strong even for his size, and the claws that adorned his reptilian feet and still
human-shaped hands were an inch or more as well. Two bat-like wings rose from the top of
his back, and two smaller, insectile pairs, sprouted from above the barbed, scorpion's tail
growing from the base of his spine. That alone was twelve feet long, able to reach around his
body or between his legs, but not over it. Fangs, dagger like and over four inches long, kept
him from speaking intelligibly, but again, Nott did not care.

He could now speak with the power of his mind and will alone. He could destroy Master, if
he chose: His innate magic resistance and sheer ferocity would suffice. But why should he?
Master gave him pleasure, gave him power. Master was all that was worth serving. So serve
he would.

The creature once known as Theodore Nott had never noticed the more subtle enchantments
on the rope, ones that circumvented his own will more carefully and slowly than they had his
'pets'.

But that was alright with Nott. He was loyal, rather than foolish.

He could destroy Master, in theory, but why?

Master was giving him pleasure, yes, and power, such power! His fingers alone could cast
any spell the weak, foolish, arrogant boy he had once been could do. His strong arms could
lift horses and throw them dozens of feet if needed. He could bound, if not quite fly, hundreds
of feet with the wings gliding or lifting. And he could fly, if needed, for short distances. It
was just terribly tiring, even for him: he weighed in excess, Nott guessed, of three tons. Even
with magic aiding his flight, it was not easy to get and keep his size airborne.

But that didn't matter.

He ejaculated, filling the Vampiress with the only food she had been given in months aside
from his ever-regenerating, potent blood. She smiled around him, then pulled off and waited
while her own throat regained its normal shape before speaking.

"Is it done, Master?"

"Yes, Pet," his thoughts told her while a savage-sounding snort came from his own altered
mouth, "I will make use of your lower end once, and then we will go. This night, we place it.
The next, we rampage. For Master."
"Yes, Master," she cooed, and rolled over, sighing with pleasure as his meaty hand lifted her
undead flesh and sheathed it where it belonged, then left her there to do the work herself. His
own hands turned to caressing the magical device he had spent months laboriously crafting.

It was deceptively simple looking, for all the complexity of the enchantments he had been
ordered to layer upon it.

All it would do... well...

Nott grinned. He could think about that later. He didn't care. Pleasure mattered, and fulfilling
Master,s orders mattered. The how and why did not.

For all their size, his claws were nearly silent as he padded down one of the side passages out
of the Chamber of Secrets, Nott carrying his pet and his package to where they had been
instructed.

Things were happening, finally, after too long.

After this night, this one more day, he could have all he wanted. All the blood, all the flesh,
all the power, all the pleasure. All of it. All for him... because he was the only one deserving
of it.

Master's magic told him so.

Harry felt his pulse and respiratory rate dropping, but it was agonizingly slow. The Hospital
Wing had been quiet for more than twenty minutes now, and the frantic, desperate activity by
several of the smartest, best-educated, and most powerful witches and wizards he knew had
mostly fallen still. Madame Pomfrey was now the only one actively using magic, her wand
still moving ceaselessly over the old wizard's body. The others, Professors McGonagall,
Sprout, Flitwick, and Slughorn - not coincidentally the current Heads of House, he dimly
realized - had come to join his own silent vigil. There were a few chairs for visitors against
the wall behind Harry, but none of them sat.

On his left, Horace Slughorn still dabbed at his sweaty, red face and neck with an already too-
wet handkerchief while he fought to control his own breathing. Pomona Sprout, beyond him,
was equally red-faced but breathing a little easier thanks to a Calming Draught she had
prescribed herself from the Healer's potion cabinet. On his left, the Transfiguration Professor
and his own Head of House stood tall and straight-backed, her expression as firm and solid as
he had ever seen it.

Did she suspect that she might have to take over as Headmaster because Harry had failed?

Because Dumbledore, too, had failed?

He knew McGonagall had stepped into the role before, and likely would again. Whether or
not it was a permanent thing, though...
On her other side, Flitwick alone seemed relatively relaxed, though the part-Goblin was still
clenching and relaxing his fists with some regularity as he murmured almost sub-audibly
under his breath, his eyes closed. A meditation or mantra ritual, perhaps? Harry did not know.

What he did know was that he could use the same, and no one seemed to care.

Then again, what was his own trouble in light of Dumbledore's?

He had been there. He had seen the poison, cut off the man's own leg before the Headmaster
had cauterized it. Seen the extent and breadth of awe-inspiring magic, both subtle and
extremely powerful, that Voldemort and his long-time adversary had used to either protect or
gain access to the Horcrux they had destroyed.

The ring that Harry now carried in his pocket.

It was a soft weight, barely noticeable unless he focused on it, but it was all Harry could do in
some moments to ignore it.

There was no more taint of darkness, of evil, of Voldemort.

But there was still something there. Heady, strong, like a drug, or that first rush that preceded
an orgasm, making him ache to take it, to finish, to go over the edge into blissful oblivion of
release.

Or maybe it was the exact same siren's call as the Veil in the Department of Mysteries.

He knew that sound, knew its haunting melody, for he had heard it most of his life. Harry
James Potter only now realized it for what it was, though he knew not why: Death.

Death. Motherly, it sang its lullaby. Calling to him, as a friend it beckoned. Goading and
taunting, it became like a nemesis.

Death was just beyond that ring, or the stone within it, which had once held a fragment of
Voldemort's soul. How one might cross over, or use the ring to achieve that blissful, chaos-
free, struggle-free state, Harry did not know. Presumably, Dumbledore had recognized it for
what it was. Certainly, his actions as he lifted the artifact with his wand, and then asked to
borrow Harry's cloak for a moment signified that.

But did it matter? The ring represented Death as a concept, in some ways, he thought. Yet
Harry had almost no desire to wear it, to wield it. It had no power to bring Dumbledore back
from the brink.

It was unnecessary, in that moment that stretched interminably.

Finally, after what felt like hours, even Poppy Pomfrey started to relax, her spell-work
slowing. Then she exhaled, and seemed to slump, her body collapsing in on itself at least a
few inches, "He's... he's out of the woods. For now. Thank you all for your help."

She said it without looking at any of them. Harry didn't blame her. No doubt, each of them
felt they could have, should have, done more, somehow.
As if that were possible. Reason told him it wasn't, even while his own heart and soul
screamed at him, silently, that there must have been something, some clue he had missed,
some spell he should have known, damn it.

Pounding feet grew louder in the corridor, and soon the door was thrown open by people
Harry felt coming through his own growing bond with them. Ron, of course, and Hermione,
Ginny, Neville, Hannah, Lavender, Pansy, Daphne, Tracey. Along with them were Parvati
and Padma Patil and, trailing in after the rest with bandages still over her own now mostly-
healed wounds from when she was attacked, Luna.

"Harry!" several of them cried the moment they entered the room, before the Healer's wand
stabbed over her shoulder, and a silent spell dropped the noise level to, well, silence.

The Mediwitch turned slowly, her back coming up again as she reasserted dominance in her
own domain. A swish had her own spell canceled as the students finished piling in, "You will
not yell in my Hospital Wing. The Headmaster needs rest."

"Yes, but Harry-" Hermione acknowledged, looking frantic as the Patils and Lavender
nodded beside her.

"'M fine," Harry told them, and twenty-four eyes moved from where they searched the beds
to the side. Most of them widened, some almost comically.

"R- Really?" Ginny asked, sounding strangely timid.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, not- not a scratch on me."

Pomfrey snorted, and turned from the intruders to him, "I'll be the judge of that, if you don't
mind."

Yet as she ran her wand over him, casting many of the same spells he had seen her use on
Dumbledore, or on himself previously, her own eyes widened, "You.. you truly are unhurt.
It's a miracle. You left the castle, and you are unhurt."

Beside him, McGonagall's eyes narrowed as she looked down her nose, "You went on an
adventure, with Albus, and you are unhurt. It truly is a miracle. Has Christmas come early,
and I didn't notice?"

Slowly, soft, quiet chuckles and titters broke through the gathered students and teachers.
Harry only rolled his eyes.

He would happily put up with the older witches taking the mickey, if it helped them all relax.
He could use the relief himself, "Yes, I'm fine. Truly. Uh... where's Lyra?"

"Pretending to be you, I think," Ginny told him, separating from the group to be the first to
give Harry a bone-crushing hug, "Trying to give you an alibi, or something. It's what she
called as we were dashing out, anyway. Said she'll be there when you need her."

Harry nodded, his arms feeling quite nice around Ginny's narrow waist. The feel of his first,
well, second, but first official Pet against him was always pleasant, her slender, toned body a
near perfect match for his own Quidditch-honed frame, "We love you, Harry," she said
quietly, "All of us. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I- I love you all too. Yes, even you, Madam Pomfrey."

"How sweet," the exhausted witch replied with a dry tone, "I think I'm going to go need to
brush my teeth," then she turned the knot of students, "Mr. Potter will be along shortly. You
lot can wait in the hall, or the lounge next door. I do not want you bothering me while I work,
so please keep the noise down. The Headmaster's condition is not good, but he will survive
the night. I expect he will be conscious again by morning."

"R- Right," Ron nodded, then turned and held his arms out wide, "Alright, ladies, Nev, let's
go, you heard the lady. Lounge next door."

While Neville and the Patils did leave with him, all of the other girls, lead by Hermione,
scooted around the ginger's chivvying to come up and hug Harry in turn. Luna patiently
waited for the rest, then shooed Daphne and Tracey out the door as if the Slytherins were
some of her oldest friends before she stepped into his arms for her own long, gentle hug.

Like Ginny, she was on the petite and slender side, but the Ravenclaw's body was softer,
sweeter somehow, which fit her somewhat kooky, spacey personality just perfectly as far as
Harry was concerned. One by one, while she held him, the Professors exchanged a few words
with each other then drifted away, leaving the Healer to the last bits of her work.

Finally, when it was just the two of them and Pomfrey left standing in the infirmary, the witch
turned to Harry and sighed, "At least it wasn't you on the beds this time, but poor Albus...
Whatever that snake injected him with, it was no natural toxin. His heart is... well... it's not
doing well."

Harry stiffened, even in Luna's gentle arms, "He... is he...?"

"Oh, he won't die yet," the Healer said with a sad chuckle as she glanced down at her charge,
and ran a hand over his long white beard, "He's got a few days left at the very least, and a
year or five if I have any say in the matter. But he's old, Mr. Potter. The venom... If I had a
sample, I might have been able to make an antivenin potion, but without it... I'm afraid there's
not much more anyone could do."

"I'm sure you did all you could," he replied woodenly, though he meant it. He just couldn't
seem to muster much emotion, not after the day he'd had, "I... I wish I could have done
more."

"You most certainly saved his life," the Healer sniffed, then raised a scolding finger, "I won't
have you feeling bad about this. I mean it, Mr. Potter: He would not be alive, right now, if not
for the swift action of you and your... friend. Albus Dumbledore is many things, but
invincible is not one of them."

Harry snorted, "If only."

"If only," the older witch agreed, "I promise you, Mr... Harry. He'll live through the night, at
the very least. Days, weeks, a few years. He fought hard, you know, that's why I had Horace
get the magic replenishing potion. He was exhausted from whatever adventure you had done,
and needed the extra juice, as the muggles say, to keep fighting. And he's won, for now, but
I'm afraid it's a losing battle in the end."

"What about the Headmaster's Phoenix?" Luna asked quietly, her face buried in Harry's chest.
He could feel it getting wet, and knew the girl had been crying silently in his stead.

"Fawkes? I... I suppose if we can get him to comply, it would help. I don't know that it would
cure the damage. Or more accurately, it would likely cure most of the damage, and remove
some of the traits of the venom... but it won't be able to do all of it. It's worth trying though.
A good suggestion, Miss Lovegood."

"Thank you," Harry whispered to the witch, and she traced the scar on his arm left from the
basilisk almost four years earlier.

She knew. By now, all his friends knew the truth of what had happened every year.

Following the urging of both the Healer and his lover, Harry followed Luna out of the
Infirmary a little while later, his eyes lingering on the relaxed, pain-free face of Albus
Dumbledore. He breathed easy, and though he was a little pale, Harry was almost able to
convince himself that the man's body was not broken, not missing a leg from the knee down,
or poisoned with a lethal toxin they were not likely to find a cure for.

Almost.

Things were quiet in the lounge. Daphne sat between Pansy and Tracey, Ron sat next to
Pansy with no hint of animosity, Hermione held Ginny's hand, who held Lavender's, next
came the Patil sisters who had stayed with the group, while Hannah and Neville snuggled
across from them in the small, cozy room. A fireplace had been lit by someone, and
refreshments were sitting on serving trays on the small table in the center. Some had glasses
of water or pumpkin juice, but only Ron seemed of an appetite. Still, he held only a half-
eaten biscuit in one hand.

"He's going to be okay, at least for now," Harry said in lieu of greeting. The majority of his
friends had looked up despondently as he and Luna stepped inside, but it was only after he
said something that they truly reacted. Most exhaled a long, deep sigh of relief.

The only one who didn't was Lavender, who nodded, then frowned, "For now...?"

Harry could only shrug, "For now. The... There was a snake. He used a lot of magic getting
the... the thing, getting us in. It was my job, mine and Lyras' to hold off a swarm of snakes.
We... we missed one. Or it came up under him. Either way, he got bit. Some kind of magical
poison, sort of like... well, I guess like the one that bit Mr. Weasley around Christmas last
year."

"I heard about that," Lavender whispered, and the Slytherins nodded too.
"Draco was really happy about it, the little shite," Pansy informed them softly, "I can't believe
I used to think he was cool."

"You're with us now," Ron reminded her reasonably, "so at least you three have come to your
senses. Well, I suppose Bulstrode and Flint and your sister have been alright, Greengrass. Not
all Slytherins are pure evil."

"Surprisingly mature coming from you," Ginny chuckled weakly, but no one did more than
smile wanly at her joke.

Harry couldn't blame them, it was all he could muster, too, "Anyway, the... he used more
magic, things I'd never heard of or seen before, to get us the rest of the way in. That was... a-
after he made he sever his leg to stop the poison from spreading more."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Daphne, Lavender, and Parvati looked decidedly
green in the face, while Hermione, Ron and Ginny were simply stony, stoic. Pansy, if
anything, looked a little excited, "Then you cauterized it, right? I've heard that's the best thing
to do, at least for magicals, if it's a bad poison."

"Yeah. Well, he did. Then we went... in. There were some... well, memories in the place.
More defenses he broke down with even more powerful magic, after all that. We- we did find
the... the thing. And it's destroyed."

He couldn't mention, not even to these his closest friends, what he suspected was a great
weakness of Dumbledore. Or what the ring was. Maybe it was a good thing he didn't actually
know.

"A- Anyway, we found the thing, like I said, and then Dumbledore collapsed after he... fixed
it. Something about it was cursed, and keeping Voldemort-" Harry paused while several in the
room shuddered or jumped, then rolled his eyes as he continued, "alive. It's gone, so he's one
step closer to being defeated for good. That's all I'll say on the subject for now, it's pretty
need-to-know, and most of you don't. It's as much for your protection as ours. Seriously,
Parvati, Padma, I can't stress this enough. No one talks about this. No one hears about this.
No teachers, no friends, no family, not even with those in this room. It doesn't get discussed
at all. Ever. Once he's gone, maybe. Maybe I'll let everyone in on the secret. But until then, if
you want Voldemort gone... keep it absolutely quiet."

"I promise," Parvati said at once, her expression strangely serious.

"I swear I won't talk about it to anyone, not even Parvati," Padma added, just as grave.

"Good. Uh... anyway, then we found something... else. Something not related to Voldemort, I
think, but just... there, in the place. Maybe he was trying to keep it away from us, or
something. I don't know. After we found it, he- Dumbledore collapsed, and then Lyra brought
him here, to Madam Pomfrey. I set the place on fire, burned... watched it burn, to the ground,
then she came back for me just as that was finishing. You know most of the rest... The
professors and Pomfrey stabilized him, kept him alive. It was... pretty touch-and-go, but it
looks like he's fine for a day or two at least."
"Good," Daphne exhaled, "I feel like we all still need him. He's... well, frankly, he's been
someone our father has been a political opponent of for our whole lives, but he's a good man.
A good leader, a good Headmaster. And I know he means a lot to you especially, Harry. So...
I'm glad he's going to be okay."

Harry nodded, "Thank you."

He didn't have the heart, not just then, to tell them how much that 'for now' really was just
'for now'.

A QUICK NOTE AGAIN: Dumbledore's not dying from this (at least not immediately).
However, I 'will' be following the whole 'hero's journey' thing. He's not gonna be around
much longer. Rest assured, for all his other faults, he'll be going out with a bang, and not for a
few chapters yet. ;)
 The Calm Before

TRIGGER WARNINGS: This chapter and the next several are the climax of Yr. 6. There
are mentions of sexual assault (by the bad guys), and a fair bit of violence and gore. If that's
fine with you, read on. If not, well... maybe skip what parts bother you.

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 50 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Chap. 78: The Calm Before

Harry woke up to pleasure, but it was not the kind he was so used to. There was no pretty girl
sucking his cock, or outright riding him.

He was surrounded by bodies, warm and soft and comforting. Some were moving, some were
still, but none were overtly moving against him in a sexual way. But still he was flush with
contentment, joy, happiness.

It seemed... both a stark contrast, and vaguely inappropriate to feel so nice given how he
distinctly remembered going to sleep: near tears, fraught with worry for Dumbledore, for
their mutual futures.

Yet Harry could not find himself minding. He had been emotionally torn and ravaged by the
events of the day prior. His calm while watching the Gaunt Hovel burn was, oddly enough,
about the only part of the day he had enjoyed. There was just so much weighing on his mind.

His growing, and strange, relationships with all of his friends and lovers. Iris, the part of him
that seemed to want to claw herself out all the time these days. Lilith, urging him to
normalize ever-greater and more common debauchery (which, Harry quietly admitted to
himself, he didn't mind so much). The Horcruxes, and how they might find and destroy the
rest of the devilish things. The egg, whatever it was, that seemed so beautiful and full of
radiance, yet was found in the darkest place Harry could ever remember seeing.

Dumbledore.

He had been so strong, so powerful. It left Harry in awe just watching him fight briefly with
Voldemort at the Department of Mysteries the previous year. Watching him the day before
had been mesmerizing, and it had opened Harry's mind to the possibilities of his own kind's
magic in ways neither Hermione nor Lilith or any of their professors had yet managed to do.
Now he lay, possibly dying, definitely maimed and mutilated, in the Hospital Wing.
None of which had anything to do, really, with his current state of contentment and joy. Well,
his friends did, but they were the only thing.

He had been so upset the previous day, but his friends had been there for him. Hermione,
Ron, Ginny, Neville, Lilith, Pansy, Daphne, Tracey, Hannah, Lavender, of course, but also
Parvati and Padma, Astoria, Katie, Luna... They surrounded him now, just as they had the
previous night.

He had fallen asleep on the couch in the common area of his quarters literally swathed in the
tender, caring arms of a dozen lovers. Now he woke to even more, though most weren't
touching him directly.

In addition to all those previously named, Susan Bones, Flora and Hestia Carrow, Su Li from
Ravenclaw, and Fay Dunbar from Hermione's dorm had joined in somehow while he had
slept like the dead.

Unusually, everyone was clothed and nothing indecent was going on, except for Ron sleepily,
or perhaps he was actually still asleep, adjusting himself in his trousers.

Harry barely knew some of these people. Some were lovers, others only just becoming
friends, and some he had known for what felt like his whole life. Certainly his real life, the
one that had begun when he had learned he was a Wizard. It seemed a great hole had opened
in him, the bastion of safety and strength that Dumbledore represented was caved in,
revealing a dark, weak, and crumbling pit.

Of course, he knew the Headmaster was still alive. With the senses granted to him by his
powerful bond with Lilith, Harry could sense the old man with barely more effort than he
could his closest friends. He was hanging in there, struggling to survive, and the bright,
shining, Phoenix-flame core of his soul shimmered below and to the southeast, where the
Hospital Wing lay.

But that flame was a candle compared to the inferno it had been twenty-four hours earlier.
That was why the bastion Dumbledore represented had collapsed: he was barely hanging on.
Everyone, Harry included, knew that Hogwarts was only safe from Voldemort because the
Dark Lord feared Albus Dumbledore's wisdom, knowledge, and might.

With the Headmaster so weakened... how long would it take him to strike?

Not long, Harry was sure, he still had enough spies in the castle for the rumor mill to let him
know by day's end, if not earlier. After that, it was just a matter of time. Some esoteric guess
on planetary alignments, or the thirty-third day from Dumbledore's fall, or some such on top
of more practical, mundane preparations like mustering forces, perhaps would dictate when.

Or as soon as possible. Maybe he would come himself, with all of his currently mustered
forces behind him. Harry snorted quietly into the warm room and murmured, "Or in front of
him, anyway. Coward."

Several bodies shifted, but no one woke as he said it. Harry wasn't surprised. He had crashed
fairly early, but distant, fleeting memories indicated they had surrounded him for a good
portion of the night, up late talking.

Explaining to the newcomers what had happened, how, and why. At least, what they could.

Everyone knew Harry had a Succubus now, since the attack on King's Cross as the Yule
break started, but now the people in the room also knew that Lyra Sendai was the same being.

He was alright with that. No one left, or protested. They had seen her fight on their behalf,
after all, putting herself at risk and, essentially, single-handedly neutralizing a dragon to keep
them safe.

Instead, they had thanked her, pulling the apparent half-Asian girl into one hug after another,
until even she was blushing with embarrassment.

They supported him.

They cared.

It was that care and affection that filled the room, and gave Harry the pleasure he had not
known he was truly missing for so long. Friendship, yes of course he knew what that was like
now. Family too, or at least he was learning.

But he had not, until this moment, understood the depth and breadth the affection, care, and
support his circle of friends had for him stretched to. They truly cared for him as much, and
possibly even more, than he cared for them. It was...

Inspiring.

Humbling.

Even with the pit of shadow, and pain, and darkness, where Dumbledore's unassailable
strength had once been, yawning wide in his mind's eye, there was just so much positive
support surrounding it that Harry could not feel more than a tiny smidgen of those more
negative feelings.

A flicker of consciousness brushed across his, and quietly, Lilith's voice entered his mind
again, "That's what I've been surrounding the fragments in your scar with, more or less,
Master. At least it's a close analog."

Harry considered it for a moment, imagining not just the love of friends, of family, and of
lovers too, surrounding the hatred, loathing, and fear that was Voldemort's soul fragments, but
passion too, burning hot and bright, the other emotions made manifest by it.

He imagined Voldemort's soul recoiling in pain, withering, flinching away, only to draw
closer to another side. Always, endlessly trapped without escape. It made him smile, almost
cruelly, though it was intended to be with amusement.
Yes, it was a fitting punishment.

Harry had learned so, so much about himself in the last year. About magic. About his
connection with Voldemort. It was almost comically easy for him to reach into the magic that
surrounded his scar, and slip through. The wall of vibrant, violet-pink energy he envisioned
as Lilith's magic was like vapor, and he moved through it with no more difficulty than he
would the morning fog.

The tiny fragments of black, viscous goo that were the remains of the fragment of
Voldemort's soul did, indeed, seem to writhe in agony from what little his senses could show
him. It was the same technique, in fact, that Lilith had taught Harry in the aftermath of the
battle at King's Cross.

His friends were out there, dozens of them, many quite close. His own soul was here too,
deep inside, filling his mortal body. Lilith's tether was as large as any, though it was of a
different color than any of his friends or lovers'.

The tether to Voldemort from his soul fragments was still there, though it was tenuous and
wavered constantly as the pieces of him that still survived, somehow (Harry could not exactly
call it living) in his scar suffered.

Was this what it was like when Harry received dreams from Voldemort? How the wizard had
contacted Harry, tormented him with dreams of the Department of Mysteries, of the Hall of
Prophecy, where Harry had then been trapped and bound?

Harry didn't know, and didn't really care, either, if Voldemort could trace the connection as
easily. But that was fine, he would get nowhere, not with Lilith blocking the way. However
Harry himself could send his senses along the tenuous line, as though he were electricity
moving along a wire. His consciousness, part of it anyway, zoomed outward over miles and
miles. There were only the barest of hints of terrain, and the sky and land were not something
he could sense at all like this. Instead, he saw population centers, occasional lines of souls
moving about at rapid paces, though nowhere near as quickly as he was, along one highway
or another, cities full of souls, and even those of animals.

He zoomed past one last city, out into fields and farmlands. Harry could find no way to track
geography, but the moment he felt it, he knew where his consciousness was.

Wiltshire.

Outside it, at least.

Draco Malfoy's family home, still the residence of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

And, currently, that of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The malevolence was tainted, twisted, filtered, and while it did sort of cause a twinge in
Harry's scar even at this distance and through Lilith's wall of affection, love, and lust... it was
different. Lilith had already told him and Dumbledore that she was feeding him lust and
passion he was not equipped to deal with, having no concept of love.

What he felt was far more than her description had implied, though.
Voldemort was at war with himself. Some part of his body constantly ached for more passion
and lust and satisfaction, while the rest recoiled in horror at the base needs that demanded,
well, satisfaction. His need for conquest had turned from the world, and Harry in particular,
to his own followers. He did not know whom he was satisfying those urges upon at the
moment, and didn't want to, but Harry did know it was one of the Death Eaters, or at least
someone he considered a servant.

But he also discovered that plans were formalized. There would be blood. Tonight, in fact.
The thought of it drove Voldemort's lust even higher, and Harry grimaced at the echo of the
tainted version of his own feelings. Whoever the Dark Lord was using was in for a rough
time of it, not that he had that much sympathy if it was one of his loyal followers.

But that didn't mean Harry had to stand idly by, either. If there was something planned
tonight, it was up to Harry to disrupt it as much as he could. It had always been up to Harry,
but this time he found that he didn't mind. He eagerly relished the task of upsetting
Voldemort's plans.

Again, it was shockingly easy. A single thought: Lilith, send me some of your emotions,
please, I'm going to send them to someone else as a gift.

The floodgates opened, and Harry, this time, acted as little more than a conduit. Power,
magical and emotional, cascaded through her own barrier like it was nothing. The magic and
emotions were, after all, the same. They rushed over Voldemort's soul-fragments, and into
them, where Harry went to work. Rather than allow them to be decimated, scourged and
scathed away, Harry, through willpower more than anything else deliberate, sent the emotions
hurtling outward, following the same track he had just gone down himself, pulling them
toward where he sensed Voldemort.

Happiness, Joy, Contentment, Love, were all emotions Voldemort could not comprehend. He
had no basis for them. Lust, Passion, Desire, he understood in some way, though they were
twisted. It was those desires that had so distracted him, turned the Dark Lord away from his
plans and dreams and ambitions for months.

For the first four, however, he had no comparison. At least, not Voldemort as he was now.
Born of lust and desire yes, but also the product of a union spawned by a Love Potion where
no love existed, he had no way to comprehend them. A misanthrope of the highest degree, a
true malignant sociopath, Tom Marvolo Riddle simply could not process the emotions that he
suddenly felt himself overwhelmed by.

They were foreign, alien, incomprehensible.

All he could truly understand in the first moments was that they were not his emotions, they
were the boy's. Potter's.

Then he felt fear of Potter, for the first time since hearing the prophecy. But only for a
moment, because even that most powerful of emotions, the one that in his darkest, most
secret of hearts Voldemort knew was the one emotion that truly ruled him, was blasted away.
What was left in the passing of the wave of emotions was... different. Harry let himself move
back up the tether, satisfied that his work was done for now.

Voldemort would recover, and likely quickly, but he would not be taking part in whatever
bloodshed might happen this night. This night, his followers would be doing their work
alone.

In the common area of the quarters he was assigned for the year, Harry's eyes opened, and
shone pink-white for a moment before they faded to green. A satisfied, pleased smile opened
with them, and he carefully went about shifting arms and legs off of himself so he could rise
and shower. He had work to do this day, and not all of it involved spending time with his
friends.

Voldemort had plans for the day, and even being incapacitated would not stop his followers
from carrying out what they could. He would have to be ready. The school would have to be
ready. On his way to the shower, Harry stopped briefly to touch the shoulder of a pretty red-
haired girl he wished he had gotten to know a bit better this year, and shook her awake,
"Susan. Susan, wake up. Sorry- I know you're sleepy."

"Whazsat...?"

"Susan."

"Oh. H- Harry? What're you- why am I- oh. Oh. Is it... um... do you need to...?" Susan Bones
blushed as deeply red as her hair, which was darker than even Ginny's.

He only smiled kindly, "No. When you're ready for that, not me. I need a favor though, yes.
Can you get in contact with your aunt's old friends in the D.M.L.E.? Tell them I have
information on Voldy?"

Susan's soft eyes widened in sudden alarm and she bolted up on the couch where she lay half-
sprawled over Hannah and Lavender, her legs on her best friend's lap, "Of course, Harry.
What is it?"

"Voldemort's got plans to do something today. I don't know exactly what, but I know it's
supposed to be bloody. She just needs to have as many trustworthy people at the ready as she
can. Maybe a few in Hogsmeade, because I have a feeling he'll send people here, too."

"Okay," Susan agreed at once, and pushed upright, "But if he thinks we're going to just roll
over for a few Death Eaters just because we're students still, that wanker has another think
coming."

Harry watched, grinning widely as he watched the curvy Hufflepuff storm from the quarters,
"I really need to talk to her about that contract, she's damned sexy riled up."

Then he shook his head and headed for the shower in what was now Pansy and Astoria's
room. He had to meet Dumbledore as soon as possible, too. Hopefully he would be awake
and able to communicate.
In a certain manor house outside Wiltshire, a certain artificially created body writhed in
agony as its eyes shone with blinding, blue-white-pink light. Bellatrix Lestrange was nearby,
clutching her arm as she shrieked in pain, where a similar light blasted through and out of the
Dark Mark tattooed on her flesh. Semen streaked across her cheek where her lord and master
had just come to a sudden and abrupt climax mid-way through her customary morning
blowjob, but all she knew was agony far worse than even His Cruciatus Curse could inflict.

She had been touching him when it happened. When his magic, his soul, his very being, had
recoiled from itself in dreadful pain and fear. Backlash had ripped into her, too, and the Dark
Mark, a tether she alone among all his followers knew linked her soul to his, had reacted
most strongly. Thankfully for one Bellatrix Lestrange, she passed out from the pain shortly
after.

Voldemort, no longer human, had no such defense. Emotions that were the very anathema to
his entire existence washed through him, surrounded him, infused him... and there was no
escape.

It seared, it burned, and he could not pass out, could not flee, could not find the focus and
will to control emotions he had never once experienced.

So he suffered, it was all he could do.

More than half a nation away from Wiltshire, twenty-seven Death Eaters (three by three by
three equaling twenty-seven, and thus both a powerful magical number as well as a useful
size for a raid) clutched their arms in sudden pain, wondering why their master was calling
them. Only it was not, they soon realized, the same sort of pain as he would use. No, this was
the pain of something many of them had felt at some point in their lives, but was mostly
unrequited, if for a variety of reasons.

The lust, well... they were used to having that satisfied, especially these days. Rape had long
been a tool of criminals and terrorists the world over, and the Death Eaters were hardly an
exception. Their leader checked a timepiece even as some of the rest of the team sent
knowing glances to each other. They had just ten minutes. Not enough time for any real fun,
"Nah, keep it together, lads," Walden MacNair growled, "There'll be time enough to get yer
peckers wet with the targets of this little party we're throwin'. Maybe the Dark Lord just sent
us a little gift, some extra stayin' power, eh?"

There were many dark, hungry chuckles, "Why wait, though?" one asked.

MacNair grunted. That was a good question. He glanced at his watch again, "Well, I don't
s'pose the Dark Lord needs it to happen at five exactly... Besides, we gotta have time to pick
out our targets before the real fun starts, right? Go ahead and Apparate to your assigned
spots, find your targets. Five more minutes an' we move. Go!"

He was among the first of the series of pops as twenty-seven Death Eaters, men and women
both, vanished from their staging area outside of Inverness.
The Hospital Wing was nearly silent as Dumbledore stared deeply into Harry's eyes. The
Headmaster's gaze was clear, though they were as watery as the younger wizard's own, "You
must, Harry. It is the only way."

"But why? I don't understand."

"You will. The soul must perish, or he will never fully be gone from this world. That includes
the one- the pieces within you. As long as they exist there is a danger..."

Harry swallowed, "But he's contained, that bit anyway, if we can finish the rest..."

"For now. He is contained for now. As long as your Succubus, Miss Lilith, is there to contain
him. But what happens if he is 'vanquished', and her Contract is fulfilled, and she leaves?
What then?"

Harry drew in a sharp breath. He had not considered that.

Part of him had been hoping that simply by destroying the Horcruxes and Voldemort's body
that Lilith would be able to remain with the soul pieces trapped in his scar.

But that would, in essence, be vanquishing, defeating, the Dark Lord even without killing the
last bits. He would, at least there was a possibility, still be a threat.

"Could you risk unleashing him upon the world, returning again, knowing it would put you
and your friends in danger once more? I know she is precious to you. I know what she means
to you and your growing family. But can you risk that? That is what I have always meant by
the greater good, Harry. Sometimes the needs of the few must be sacrificed for the needs of
the many. It is harsh... but it is necessary."

The young man swallowed, and nodded.

It was, indeed, harsh. But he could see the reasoning. He understood, "So... the Ring, the
Diary, they're destroyed."

"Which leaves the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff, the Locket of Salazar Slytherin, the Diadem of
Rowena Ravenclaw's, Nagini, we suspect, the shards within your scar..."

"And his body's piece," Harry finished, "Which means he's actually got eight."

"Which is not a magically powerful number, no," Dumbledore smiled wanly as he lay in the
hospital bed, clearly exhausted. He still looked better than Harry had thought he would,
"Though of course it does not diminish his strength, only the tenacity of each piece's hold on
the world, I suspect."

Harry nodded, "Do we know, or have any ideas, where the Diadem, Cup or Locket might
be?"

Dumbledore sighed, and looked down his body at the empty spot where his leg should have
been, then back up at Harry, "I had hoped our next excursion would be to a certain sea cave
where I think the Locket might have been kept. I don't know that I will be up for swimming,
however. I may need to take you to the location when I am back on my fe- on my foot, and
allow you and Lilith to do the rest. Perhaps with other friends as well, just in case."

"I see your attempts at humor haven't gained any traction in your recovery," Harry rolled his
eyes, but he still smiled down at his mentor, glad that he was trying to joke still, "So the cave
he mentioned taking his, whatever you want to call them, early victims, tormentors, the kids
he was in the orphanage with?"

Dumbledore nodded, "The same. I found it near the end of the summer break, but only
recently confirmed it was the actual cave he once tortured his fellow orphans in, yes. The
echo of his magic there is... considerable. As for the Cup... I'm afraid I have no idea. I was
actually hoping to pick your brain on the matter, as you know him perhaps better than I do."

Harry sat back, still unused to being in the visitor's chairs, and even more unused to being in
the Hospital Wing without Madam Pomfrey hovering close. But she had listened to
Dumbledore's request for some privacy while they talked, so she was busying herself in her
office, "I... I don't know. There's just so many places. Places important to him... You checked
the orphanage?"

"A business park, now, with no traces of the magic remaining. I do not think that is one such
place."

Harry frowned thoughtfully for a few more seconds, "I wonder if I could maybe... trace them
back."

"What do you mean...?"

So he explained to the Headmaster what he had found and learned that morning, about how
he had followed the tether of the Horcrux to the remainder of Voldemort's soul, and sent what
he hoped were most punishing feelings down the line. When he finished, Dumbledore was
wheezing with laughter, one hand on his chest as he fought to suppress a cough, "That... that
is most excellent, Harry. I had envisioned something similar when we discussed perhaps
weaponizing your connection to both he and Lilith, but that... that is far more than I had
hoped for. You continue to impress and astound me at every turn. But..."

"But?"

"I do not know," he finished after a moment's thought as he finished getting control of his
breathing, "that it would be enough to find a Horcrux. You would know better than I in this
case, certainly. It may well be."

"Still, we aren't hopeless, I suppose. We know his patterns, if nothing else. He trusted a very
few with them, after all. Just Lucius Malfoy, and... who else would he trust?"

"While Voldemort has often displayed trust in Malfoy Senior, he has always, always, trusted
Bellatrix Lestrange more than his other followers, for her devotion is the most obvious and
intense."
Harry nodded, "That makes sense. Well, we know Malfoy had a Horcrux in the Diary. He
may not have known what it was, but he was still trusted with one. If he trusted Bellatrix
more... would she know?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore conceded, "but he keeps her close these days. She may participate in
this... trouble you mentioned, but she may not. If she is vulnerable, we can only hope the
Aurors are able to capture her alive. Which seems unlikely, given her sheer ability and
cunning."

Harry grimaced, "Yeah... she is pretty slippery. Still... where would she put it to hide it?"

There was something there, something niggling at the back of his brain, but Harry could not
put his finger on it. Something important.

Something...

"Most secure place... Sir, the most secure places to hide something, I've always been told,
were Gringott's... and Hogwarts."

Dumbledore's eyes widened along with his mouth, "I suspect Diadem is here, in the Castle,
and- and- yes, that fits. Gringott's, the impressive facade, the size of it, its placement within
Diagon Alley... it would be a powerful symbol of the Wizarding World to an orphan who
started with nothing. A symbol of magic, of wealth, of power."

"It's there," Harry said with certainty, "Now we just have to find out how to get it."
 The Snowstorm

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 50 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Chap. 79: The Snowstorm

Harry spent the next three hours split more or less evenly between two places. The quarters
where he still stayed along with the Slytherin contingent of his growing circle of friends,
excluding Millie and her now-fianceé, and in the Hospital Wing with the Headmaster. In his
quarters, most of his time was spent being 'relieved of stress' by one of his lovers while he
wrote out notes. In the infirmary, however, he and the headmaster discussed an entirely
different matter.

Getting the Goblins of Gringotts' Bank to release something, an unknown something no less,
from the vault of a Death Eater was a truly Herculean task.

It wasn't like the Goblins would not sympathize with them. As Dumbledore had told Harry
early on in their planning, they knew full well what kind of people Voldemort surrounded
himself with. They knew that they would be on the short end of any world in which he ruled.

"But," he had explained, "the Goblins also believe, perhaps rightly, that if it comes to it, they
can simply shut themselves off from the wider world, tunnel deep and far, and leave the rest
of us to our own bloody devices. Of course, they would take all or a majority of the Death
Eater's gold with them, which is also, I think, the only reason the bank has not been seized
already."

"So if we were to do the same thing, or push too hard," Harry had mused back, "they could
just do the same thing. Go underground, literally, and we'd never find it."

"Just so. I do not think we can spare the time for pure diplomacy, however. Goblins are, in
general, a reasonable people, but they are not known to give up their treasures lightly.
Especially if they are tasked to hold it for another. Those, they tend to guard even more
fiercely than their own."

"Could we... maybe destroy the Horcrux while it's still in the bank? Whatever it is? Would
they let us do that?"
Dumbledore's tired eyes narrowed a little as he frowned thoughtfully, "That is an avenue I
would not have considered... perhaps they would, and perhaps not. I will make some discreet
inquiries, I think."

That was one hour into their planning. Unfortunately, even that seemed unlikely to work. The
Goblins simply would not allow an unauthorized person to enter any of their vaults. Not to
mention, of course, that they still did not know for sure who's vault or vaults such an object
would be in. They suspected Bellatrix Lestrange's, but they could not be sure. At least, not
more sure than Harry and the Headmaster's combined gut feelings.

Still, since that was all the had to go on, the pair spent the next half hour talking through
various options, not least of which was somehow trying to convince the more anti-Voldemort
ministry to put some pressure on the Goblins. Perhaps the most extreme idea was actually
breaking into the bank in some way, but every idea either of them had was shot down as most
likely ending in death by dragon fire- no matter how prepared they were.

With that approach at an impasse for now, the Headmaster had eventually encouraged Harry
to do a little bit of research into something he had already mentioned before, "Harry, I
understand that you feel you must protect the school. I sympathize, and I empathize. But as
you have told me already, Miss Bones has her aunt's contacts in the Department of Magical
Law Enforcement working on protection as we speak, and I do not think Voldemort will
attack the school while I am here. Not even if he hears that I am in a, let us say, weakened
state. Furthermore, since we do not know where or how they are attacking, there is little we
can do except prepare as best we can- which we have done, and wait. However, I do
recommend using that time wisely."

"How do you mean, sir?" Harry asked pointedly, "Because to me, it seems like the wisest
course of action would be, I don't know, putting the school on alert or something."

"It is on alert. Professor McGonagall placed the protections around the school on high alert
the moment I left with you for the Gaunt's hovel. Since I am injured, she is still acting as
Headmistress and thus has control of them."

"Then, should we evacuate, or-"

"Not yet, I think," Dumbledore interrupted, lifting a wrinkled, pale hand from where it had
been under his magically warmed blanket, "I do not wish to alert Voldemort to how much we
know. Even if he were to come here directly, the Castle could hold him off for some time,
while we evacuate the students and some staff through the various methods at our disposal.
Plans are in place, Harry, of that I can assure you. I truly do feel we are as prepared as we
could be in that respect."

The teenage wizard sighed, "Alright, fine, I... I suppose that'll have to do, then. What else
were you thinking?"

"You may recall the strange urge I felt when picking up the Ring in the shack?"

"Well, yeah, of course. You asked for my Cloak, too."

"Just so. Part of that was because I fell victim to a magical compulsion briefly, but most of it,
I will admit, is because of an old, old dream of mine. Please take that book there. It is the one
I mentioned in the shack. Read The Tale of the Three Brothers. When you are done, please
come back. We have something of import to discuss."

"Er... alright, sir. If you really think it's that important."

"I do. It may not make sense at first, but I truly believe it is."

"Alright. I'll... should I just read it here, then?"

"Perhaps read it with... oh, Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood. I believe each will be able to
provide certain insights easier than I could."

So he had left the Hospital Wing, and returned to his assigned quarters.

There, Harry found the two women Dumbledore had mentioned, and asked them into the
former dungeon room turned bedroom.

The tale was relatively short, and took just a couple of minutes to read. Harry's first
impression was that it was nothing more than a fanciful children's tale, of the sort found
throughout the book. Hermione seemed to agree, although she was worrying her lower lip
thoughtfully as she said it.

Luna, however, had a different take. She drew three shapes in the air with her wand, igniting
them with a blue-green light that shimmered as it hung without support. A triangle, a circle,
and a vertical line, "The Deathly Hallows," she reported quietly, sounding more serious than
Harry was used to from the blonde, "are indeed real. Daddy has been searching for signs of
them his whole life."

"Your father searches for all sorts of things that aren't real, Luna," Hermione sighed, rolling
her eyes, "I'm sorry, but Narcle, Wrathspits, and these Deathly Hallows just aren't real."

Lilith, as Lyra, knocked on the door and stuck her head inside, "Master? You alright? I can
feel you getting more tense."

"I'm okay," he told her, but the Succubus in a student's body still came in and shut the door,
sashaying across the room to the couch where he and the other two girls sat, her clothes
disappearing into the aether as she did so.

"You could probably use some more relief though."

"That, I can always use," Harry sighed, as he reached down and freed his already stiffening
dick from his robes for her.

Lyra sank to her knees, the familiar mouth engulfing him whole as she went about the task
with her usual enthusiasm. Hermione was well used to Harry and Lilith's behavior by now,
and didn't do more than glance at them while she continued a quiet argument with Luna. The
blonde, less used to it but eager to join the group in full, immediately opened her own robes
and lifted her skirt to start rubbing her pale blue, silk knickers while she watched. She still
argued with Hermione though, pointing out, hardly for the first time, that just because the
studious girl did not know something existed did not mean that it didn't.

Harry let his eyes close and his head fall back on the couch as he enjoyed Lyra's blowjob, the
familiar argument washing over him with the book sitting on Hermione's curvaceous lap.

"Look, this symbol here means something," Hermione argued, trying to change tactics, "It's
in place of the A, see?"

"Of course," Luna rolled her eyes, and if Harry were watching, would have seen her point to
the symbols still hanging in the air, "The three Hallows. The Cloak of Invisibility, the Stone
of Resurrection, and the Wand of Destiny."

"But that's ridiculous," Hermione protested again, "It's got to be something else. Death isn't a
person, Luna, it's a transition from life to not-life."

"Why isn't it a person? How do you know? Have you met them?"

"Of course not! There's no one to meet! Just like I can't see a Nargle! The reason you can't
catch a Crumple-Horned Snorcack is because they don't exist!"

Harry's eyes opened as Lyra's mouth left his dick, and he looked down to watch the Succubus
look up at Hermione, "You mean a Narcqel?"

Hermione blinked, her argument derailed, "A- A what?"

"Nargles are a rare type of fairy," Luna answered for her, "as I'd have explained if you would
ever given me a chance, Hermione. They are mischievous, and like to steal things to pad their
nests."

"I've never heard of Nargles until you mentioned them last year, Luna," Hermione groaned,
trying to ignore how very similar the names of Luna's fanciful creature and the definitely
alien, likely Succubus-named thing Lyra had mentioned, were.

"No, no, Narcqels," Lyra interrupted, "and they're quite real, Hermione. They are- well, they
don't resemble fairies like you have in your world, but they can look like them if you squint.
They're more... insectoid. And they do like to steal things. They're dimensional hoppers. They
go to various places and planes, take things they find interesting, and bring them home to
their hives. For some reason, many of them like to steal socks from Muggle appliances."

Luna nodded, "Daddy has a lazy eye, and poor vision because of it."

Harry and Hermione both gaped.

"D- Dryer socks...?"

Lyra snapped her fingers, "Yes, that's the appliance. Sorry, it's been a while since we covered
them, and the biology of our world was never my best subject. Anyway, master, do you want
a deep-throat, or-"
"Nargles exist?" Hermione gasped.

"I told you," Luna shrugged, "and Wrackspurts, and Blibbering Humdingers, and-"

Lyra sighed, and seemed to resign herself to a hand-job instead, "Thrackpyrte. A minute
parasite from our world, known to cause confusion. Some of our people grow rather addicted
to the things, strangely... colonize nests in their heads. Never heard of anything like
Blibbering Humdingers, though."

"But.. but... Nargles - Narcqels - exist. They... really exist."

"Yes," Luna said exasperatedly, "like I've been telling you for a year."

"... But... but that means..."

"That you owe Luna an apology," Harry grinned, reaching down to push Lyra's head further
onto his shaft, "and I think you should do it by eating her out."

Hermione blushed.

Luna grinned, "Ooh, I think I like that idea. Come here, Hermione, I'm already ready."

The bookworm might have sent Harry a dirty look as she rose from the couch and moved
around Lyra, who bobbed up and down his whole length obediently as only Hermione and the
Succubus herself could, "That hardly seems fair, but... I suppose I do owe you, Luna. This
one time."

Luna leaned against Harry's arm as she lifted a foot to the couch and slid her knickers aside,
giving Hermione's tongue and soft lips easier access. Hermione had come a long way from a
girl who was 'strictly straight', to a young woman who would do almost anything to please
her friends and make them feel good. It was never more evident to Harry than right then, as
she went about licking all over Luna's tight, pale, and clean-shaven pussy with a gusto that
might have even put him to shame. He was still, until that moment, the only one of their
group who'd been intimate with Luna. That, it seemed, was changing as of today, if Hermione
was accepting her in.

Maybe I should put her in her place more often, if this is the result, he thought to Lyra.

The Succubus grinned around him, and never stopped moving as she thought back at him,
Indeed, Master. It does bring up another curiosity regarding our crazy little blonde witch.
Just what is she, that she knows about Narcqels and Thrackpyrtes? She's definitely not just
human. Or at least someone she knows closely isn't.

Over the next several minutes, Luna encouraged Hermione to bring her to not just one but
three orgasms with her mouth, fingers, and then both, before Harry gave Lyra the lunch she
was looking for, and spent several minutes kissing all three of his girls tenderly.

They were still doing that when the sound of a far-distant explosion echoed through the
foundations of the castle and all the way up to its highest towers.
Walden Macnair ignored the light, late-season snow falling around him as he forced the
woman he had captured first to take his brutal pounding while two of his companions
tortured her husband and a family dog. Macnair had always enjoyed doing the Dark Lord's
work. Brutality, inflicting pain, exerting control, whether it be physical or magical, over
others was always such a rush.

But lately, over the last year, things have gotten so much better.

Back in the old days, the Dark Lord didn't care if they had their way with just anyone. Now,
he actively encouraged it, and even told his followers to impregnate any old magical whore
they could, while the female Death Eaters were told to use whatever means necessary to
create more offspring.

True, it meant there was less killing in general, which wasn't all that great...

But the young woman, perhaps in her lower-mid twenties, on her hands and knees in front of
him, would probably think death would be preferable by the time he was done with her. He,
and all the other marked Death Eaters. She was pretty, very pretty in fact, and likely the pride
and joy of the bloody-faced young man's life. Curvy, perhaps seven and a half stone, with
long black hair that was knotted and tangled in one of Macnair's hands, while his semen from
the first load and some of her husband's blood was splattered across her face. The splintered
ends of her broken wand were shoved into her arse, a slight mercy to prepare her for what
came after he shot his seed into her womb. The arse would receive the same, then he'd go
back to her still-dripping cunt for another round before turning her loose for his friends.

Tanlin, who simply enjoyed torture more than anything, simple man that he was, was abusing
the dog with cutting spells nearby, laughing as it whined and yelped in pain, unable to move
thanks to a body-paralysis jinx.

Qui Lin, a more recent recruit from China, had used some sort of magic Macnair wasn't
familiar with to paralyze the man's torso and limbs, but leave his hips and mouth free to
move. Then she had done a spell with the mans' own wand, and now the tiny but fierce
tattooed woman was bouncing on his shaft shamelessly, leering at the sobbing face of
Macnair's chattel.

Macnair made a note: take Qui Lin, too. She was pretty, for a foreigner, and her tits bounced
nicely. If the useless mudblood didn't get her pregnant, perhaps he would have more luck. No
doubt, the Dark Lord would reward him for giving him another future follower.

He yanked his prisoner's body back onto him as he ejaculated deep inside her. The potion he
and all of his team had taken an hour earlier kept him hard, and once he was done, the brutal
man wasted no time in shoving his cock into the poor woman's ass, still wet from his cum.

She, of course, had no such preparation, and no retreat from the man who had stuck her hands
and knees to the floor, and used her relentlessly.

Forty minutes later, one of Macnair's team finally remembered they had an actual job to do,
and slit the exhausted husband's throat with a spell, then turned his wand to the sky.
A blossom of green light shimmered into existence, a skull with a snake coming from its
mouth.

Macnair orgasmed into the fourth capture's body while he watched the serpent twist through
the clouds. Yes... it was a good day. He alone had captured four breed-mares for the cause,
and his cock was aching for a break... but he was not done yet. He needed to take more,
control more, brutalize more. More! More!

Two miles away,from the attack on Hogsmeade Village Macnair was leading, a huge,
hulking, gray-skinned beast grunted in annoyance as he hauled the abused, ripped, shredded
body of a female vampire from his own prodigiously large member, and lifted her head to his
neck. She suckled quickly, pulling in a tiny fraction of his vibrant, immense power to refuel
herself as she rebuilt her body through the dark, foul magics that gave her unlife in the first
place.

It took about ten minutes, but Nott did not care. There was time, and the fools had taken so
much anyway, "Des-track-shun start. We do plan. Kill all. Serve."

"Yes," the sex-mad vampire hissed, cooing even as her body was wracked with agony while
her pelvis reassembled itself from the shards he had fucked it into over the last hours. She
was used to it now, having been his plaything for weeks and weeks, "The plan... kill all,
serve. Serve you."

"Yes," Nott grunted, and picked her up again, this time in his hand as he loped through the
now-familiar tunnels of his lair. It would be the last time he was inside it, but he didn't care.
The Vampiress had been a fun fuck-toy.

But he had more, or would soon. There was a whole castle full of living, warm flesh up there
for him to sheathe himself in, their lifeblood sustaining both him and his pet, who no longer
needed the rope to obey him. After the castle... yes, there was a whole wide world.

And he could kill them all, Master commanded it.

Until only Master remained, if needed, or they all submitted to his rule.

Not Nott's.

Nott didn't care to rule. He only wanted to fuck, and to kill. Nothing else mattered.

First, the school above.

Theodore Nott no longer existed, after all, and no trace of remorse for what he was about to
do to the place he had once learned in, remained. What did remain was a cold-blooded, lusty
monster who wanted just those two things for the rest of its existence. Voldemort's subtle
control over him through the rope, exercised each time Theodore exerted control on first
Vicky Frobischer and now the Vampiress, whose name he still did not care to know, had been
worked over months.
Now, only Nott remained... and Nott was not in the mood for more restraint. It was time to let
loose, at last, for the first time in its existence.

It would be free.

The whole castle shook as his massive body crashed through the magically-reinforced door
that once blocked the Chamber of Secrets from the pipes and caverns below the school.
 Blizzard

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Note: Sorry it's a bit late, I had a D&D session go quite long last night and was just too tired
to post. But ZPoW should still be coming today for those that care.

Chap. 80: Blizzard

High overhead, bells began to ring.

As their sound was magically carried to every nook, cranny, and far corner of the school
grounds, Harry felt the magic of the castle ripple around him, at a level of force and potency
comparable to the waves that had been unleashed when Dumbledore had been dismantling
the protections around the Gaunt Hovel.

Hermione, with her head still buried between Luna's legs, winced and cried out in pain,
clutching her eyes, "It's too bright!"

Lyra, her half-Japanese throat still convulsing around Harry's dick, immediately popped up
off of him with a loud slurp, already shifting into her true form as the Succubus Lilith.

It was a good thing, too, because Harry's own reactions would have seriously hurt him if
she'd still been deep-throating him. He jumped sideways off the couch, his hands already
pulling up and trying to close his trousers around his still-wet member while, without wand
or spell, his wand hovered in front of him in easy reach, and heat-waves began to roil around
his left hand even while it fumbled with his belt, "An attack," Harry gasped, "That's the
school alarms tripping- we're going into lockdown mode."

Luna proved herself equal to being one of them with the speed she prepared herself too, her
wand flicking in the air to levitate herself and Switch her clothes back onto her body in near-
perfect arrangement, before following up with Hermione's, and proceeding to conjure a
blindfold for the other girl, "Does that help, Hermione?"

Harry stopped half-way to the door, worried about his girlfriend's sight, before she sighed in
relief, "Oh, thank Heavens- yes, it does Luna, thank you. That... The magic, it was just- It
was very intense, like looking into the sun for a moment."

"Magium Sybbilis can have downsides I suppose," Lilith murmured, her violet-pink eyes
shining as she cast them about at the walls and ceiling, "I'm not sensing any particular fear or
anger yet, but- wait... there's something... masked? No... I don't know, it's strange, Master.
There's emotion there, and definitely of those types, but I can't pinpoint it exactly and it
feels... strange."

"Strange in what way?" Luna asked for him as she assisted Hermione to her feet.

Lilith frowned, “I… It’s… muted, like the actual intention is hidden behind a mask of
deadened emotion. Hermione, I know it’ll probably hurt, but can you sense anything strange
in the Castle’s magic?”

The bookworm pulled her blindfold off for a moment, squinted, winced, then put it back on,
"It's still very bright. The magic is protective, I'm sure you're right that it's the school's
protective enchantments and wards, but I'm not sure how much use I'll be if I can't see."

"Would some sunglasses help?"

"They might, if they aren't conjured," she replied, allowing Luna to guide her after Lilith and
Harry toward the door.

It burst open before they reached it, revealing several worried faces, not least of which was
Ginny, who had done the opening itself. She, Pansy, Daphne, Astoria, and Tracey all had
their wands drawn, but as Harry entered the common area of the quarters at a rush, the others
made way to reveal Ron was at the main door, watching it, instead, "What's going on,
Harry?" the ginger asked, "Any idea?"

"No, sorry Ron," Harry answered quickly, then turned to the group at large, "Stay here. Stay
safe. I'm going to the Hospital Wing to ask Dumbledore wha-"

He was interrupted by another large peal of the bell, before Professor McGonagall's voice
rang through the castle just as loudly, "All students, return to your Dormitories at once.
Prefects, return with them, perform a standard roll-call and report to your Head of House. All
older year students, that is fifth and above, will assist younger students to safety. The
protective enchantments of the School have been breached, and there is a known Dark
creature of some sort within the grounds. For your own safety, do not engage the creature if
you see it. Flee, and seek help. Teachers, assemble in the Great Hall. I am enacting the Turtle
protocol."

"Turtle Protocol," Daphne asked for most of the rest of them, Harry included, "What's that?"

"Don't know," he grunted, "but I'd guess it's a shelter-in-place plan. Full lockdown of the
school, based on the magic that just went by, maybe. It's..."

He tried to feel outward, extend his senses as Lilith had shown him how to do during the
battle at King's Cross, but he could only get a powerful sense of who was nearby. His more
distant friends like Neville, Hannah, and Katie, among others, were blocked by some sort of
static field that returned only a hazy non-answer, "It's like there's radio interference,
Hermione."
"That makes sense," she murmured, more to herself than to Harry he thought, "It's just
another part of the spectrum, so it might well behave the same way- it's why it seems so
intense to me, too, I think." With an annoyed hiss, Hermione tore off the blindfold again, then
forced her eyes open. They burned and watered, but she kept looking around, and they shone
golden as she forced herself to look at the enchantments that were suddenly so much more
powerful than she was used to, "Yes... yes, I think that's right. It's a masking charm to keep
hostile creatures from finding targets, if I'm right. Which means we're operating somewhat
blind, but so is whoever, or whatever, is attacking the school."

"Malfoy?" Pansy asked quietly, "Is he...?"

"I don't think so," Harry shook his head, "I doubt he'd be brave enough to come back to be
honest. The Death Eaters, maybe, but Dumbledore seemed confident he had that Vanishing
Cabinet thoroughly taken care of. And I don't sense Voldemort around."

Tracey and Daphne flinched, but the two Weasleys, Hermione, and to his surprise Pansy and
Luna, did not so much as bat an eye this time when he mentioned the name.

"You might not, Master," Lilith reminded him offhandedly, gesturing at his forehead, "if he's
as blocked off as we think. It's also possible that when you retaliated, it burned off the little
that remains in your scar."

"That would be bad, then," Hermione added, "because it would mean we can't use that
connection to track Voldemort anymore."

Luna had a counter-argument though, "Occam's Razor suggests that it may simply be the
wards interfering. Harry is powerful, and wise, but he is not infallible, and he may simply be
too inexperienced to make sense of the connection he may still share through the new
interference."

"We can argue about it later," Ginny huffed, "Ron and Hermione are supposed to go to the
Gryffindor dorms, and count the students. But I'm buggered if I'm letting these four go to the
Slytherin dorm!"

Harry wanted to make a joke that Ginny could get buggered whenever she wanted to, and
indeed enjoyed it , but felt, somehow, it would be in poor taste, so he simply nodded,
"Alright, then. Ginny, use your ability, the sneaky one, and go with Ron and Hermione. Stay
with them. Help them out as needed, the Gryffindors will be looking to you three and Neville
for leadership. Daphne, Tracey, Pansy, Luna, you're with me."

"Wh- What are we going to do?" Daphne asked, sounding quite as terrified as he might
expect. But she, like her girlfriend and his other lovers, had her wand out in a mostly-steady
hand.

"We're going to the Great Hall. Dumbledore won't miss out, even injured, so he'll be there.
Even if I have to escort him myself. Actually- Lilith, can you take him there, or help him, and
we'll meet you ?"

"Absolutely, Master, even if I have to Thrall the Healer."

He shuddered. Madam Pomfrey was nice, but he didn't want to think about the gray-haired
woman that way, "Er, only if it's absolutely necessary, please."

"Right. Good thing I got a good lunch just now. I have a feeling this is going to be a long
day."

The Slytherin quartet, Luna, and Harry spent a minute more making sure they had a small
stock of Hermione's and Pansy's already-brewed first-aid potions, but the Succubus had
already phased right through the solid walls despite it taking far more of her own magic than
it normally would with the protections in place, and the three Gryffindors dashed down the
hallway outside at full speed, one of them completely invisible to the vast majority of the
populace.

Then Harry led his group out into the corridors toward the Great Hall, four of the least-likely
people he ever would have expected to, one witch younger than even Luna, and to his
surprise he found there were few others he would rather have at his back.

Despite the danger he knew he was hurtling toward, despite the danger to the school at large,
this time he felt no fear. There was only rock-solid determination not to let Voldemort and his
cronies have their way again.

Not this time.

There was chaos outside in the halls. Students ran this way and that, calling out for friends,
but at least the majority of the red-and-gold ties and trim were following the direction Ron
and Hermione would have taken. Not their usual route to Gryffindor Tower, with the various
secret and hidden passageways they had learned courtesy of the Marauders Map, but the
public hallways and stairs.

The map which Harry quickly unfolded as he led the way without needing to look up toward
the Great Hall. For most of the year, this had been a path he took two or three times a day,
and it was as well-worn into his memory as his feet, so he didn't exactly need to keep a head
up aside from to keep from running into other people. He spotted Katie first, already on the
seventh floor and just about to the Fat Lady. As Quidditch Captain, she held the same status
as the prefects in most cases, and as a seventh-year, most of the other Gryffindors would be
looking to her anyway. At least, thankfully, he knew his occasional lover had a good head on
her shoulders.

Hannah and Neville were, of course, together, and he watched them stay that way until
Neville had escorted the Hufflepuff Prefect to her own Common Room, before sprinting on
his own up the stairs toward the main hall. No doubt, he would be heading not for the
Gryffindors' assigned meeting space, but the Great Hall.

Neville Longbottom, after all, was far from a coward, as he had proven time and again since
their first year. Now that he had come into his own, and seen actual battle, the young man
was positively fearless. Harry would not have expected him to be at the forefront of the
operation to rescue him from the Department of Mysteries last year, but he had been right
there alongside Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Since then, and especially since getting his first
Rune-set, the young wizard had come into his own as a mighty spellcaster, and a powerful
force to be reckoned with. He had even started assisting other students during the D.A.
meetings that occurred where half the castle wasn’t hunting down missing girls.

Susan Bones was already in the Hufflepuff Common Room, and he watched the shoes that
represented both her and her best friend come together in a powerful embrace before he tore
his eyes away. And... yes, there was Dumbledore, as expected, already making his way out of
the Infirmary with the Healer close behind, no doubt chastising him with every step. Then
Lilith was there... she would take care of it.

Parvati and Lavender were moving from the Great Hall upward... there, they met up with
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. They were as safe as could be, for now.

Padma, Parvati's twin, was already in the Ravenclaw Common Room, that was good. For
several seconds as Harry and his entourage moved into one of the more main halls, his eyes
swept the worn map for Cho Chang while dodging a rush of Slytherins moving in the other
direction in a panic, before remembering that she was gone, killed while trying to rescue him.
Dean was no longer at the school, he had never returned after Christmas, and Seamus was
dead.

Many nights, Neville was the only one in their dormitory now, if Ron stayed in the quarters.
That might explain why Hannah was so rarely in the Hufflepuff dormitories, at least. She was
probably keeping her future husband company, all night long, as only people with Stamina
Runes could do.

Cassius Warrington and Millicent Bulstrode were at the Slytherin Common Room, but
coming out, with the Carrow twins alongside them. They stopped in front of the shoes of a
half-dozen Slytherins coming the other direction, led by Corvus Montague. He watched in
growing horror as, for a few seconds, the feet shuffled back and forth rapidly. Three of the
five quickly became the outlines of bodies instead, while one foot shifted to a knee, and then
back as Cassius must have been struck by some spell, but recovered. Then the remaining
Slytherin cohort fled, his friends not quite giving chase, because they only followed to the
next hallway intersection before changing course toward the Great Hall.

Fools- well he had their names, now. They had known Montague was a true snake for half the
term, but actually leading his 'friends' to attack Harry's friends in the halls was a step he
would not have expected. Goyle hadn't been among them, which was good for him, because
Harry would not be as merciful to that idiot if he put another toe out of line. He sincerely
hoped the little bit of camaraderie they had built before Mandy's murder would show the
spawn of a Death Eater that their side was not without its rewards or resources, too. More-so,
he hoped that the lesson he had taught Gregory Goyle after he had participated in the attack
on Pansy and Luna would sink in: Harry Potter no longer had any tolerance for anyone who
would attack an innocent person. None at all.

With the main group accounted for, and his growing circle of friends as well, he started
looking for more names of interest. Romilda Vane was currently occupying the same space as
Luca Caruso, Hermione's Roommate, in the fifth-year girl's dorms. Interesting, but of minor
consequence at the moment. No doubt the two had been engaged before the alarms, and
wanted to finish since they were close to the Common Rooms anyway.
Fay Dunbar, Luca's best friend and Hermione's last roommate, was dashing down the stairs,
almost to the Common Room. Good, good... Demelza Robins was there too, along with
Peakes and Coote, the new Beaters this year. And there, Marcus Selwyn. The child of a Death
Eater too, but who was fascinated by Hermione's interest in Elf rights, who had gone to the
Burrow willingly rather than return to the family home for the Yule holidays.

A good kid, Harry knew, definitely the black sheep of the family, in his third year currently,
and just finding out he was more interested in boys than girls, just another reason to not get
along with his very traditional family.

Not that Harry cared one whit, the boy was fine as he was. There beside Dennis Creevey,
Colin's younger brother, who had sort of taken Marcus under his wing after a bit of advice
from Neville. Were the two something more than just friends in different year-groups now?
Harry neither knew nor really cared. He was just glad Marcus had someone looking out for
him. Colin appeared on the map a moment later, just stepping out of the showers into his
dormitory, no doubt hurrying to dry and get dressed.

At least the attack was happening on a weekend, when everyone was scattered about.
Whoever was going to get attacked first would be hard-pressed to defend themselves, he
thought, but it was better than an entire classroom being annihilated at once.

They were almost there, down one flight of stairs was the Entrance Hall, and from there just a
right turn through the great doors. The students were a veritable flood moving in the opposite
direction now, so Harry hastily folded the map back up and stuffed it into his robes, before
pulling his wand again and hastily conjuring a slide off the banister, then hopping over it,
"Fast way down!"

It was even almost fun, dropping nearly an entire floor, some twenty feet in the old castle,
past gawking and gaping students who really should have known better, and kept moving.
He, at least, had the foresight to stop the slide about two feet above the flagstone floor, so
Harry was dropped onto his feet and kept moving at once, his wand up just in case the threat
decided to materialize here, simply due to the glut of bodies present.

It was a horrid situation tactically, at least at the moment: this many bodies would be a target-
rich environment, and no one could really move or dodge out of the way effectively.

But there was nothing for it at the moment, he could not countermand McGonagall's
instructions, and if he were honest, he wouldn't want to right now. That would only add more
confusion, and they did need everyone to be accounted for as quickly as possible.

It took him a few moments to fight his way through the throng, and he saw Pansy's black hair
on the other side of Daphne's on one side, while the taller girl held both Tracey's and
Astoria's hands as she tugged them in her wake out of the corner of his eye. He risked just a
moment to glance the other way and take Luna's hand in his empty one, just in case, before
diving again into the mass of bodies.

"Professor, we're here to help," Harry shouted as he finally moved through the doorway into
the Great Hall at a near-run, accelerating the moment he was clear of the glut of bodies,
"Hermione, Ron, and Ginny are herding the Gryffindors, I saw Katie on my map, too. Lyra's
helping the Headmaster down here. What can we do?"

"You can go to your dormitories, as instructed," Professor Sprout protested, "I know you're a
young hero, Potter, but this is not the time fo-"

"Professor!" he shouted angrily, the hand that had just been holding onto Luna's tearing free
and blossoming with violet-red fire, "I am not standing aside, not any more!"

"We need him, Poppy," McGonagall added from the circle of professors around the single,
round table left in the center of the hall. The rest had been tilted on their sides, silverware and
dishes scattered about haphazardly, to form a barricade two layers deep and five feet high on
either side as one entered the door.

Flitwick nodded, "Potter's as good a dueler as anyone in the castle, and his friends are hardly
negligent in the art. Have you not seen the results in your Hufflepuffs that attended his
lessons this year and last? Their DADA scores are phenomenal."

That was when Harry realized the DADA teacher was missing.

"Where's Sirius?"

"Professor Black went to the second floor, on an errand of import, according to him,"
McGonagall replied sourly, "He has asked me to inform you that he has a suspicion, and
would like you to confirm it for him. Something about pipes?"

Pipes.

Pipes.

"Oh, fuck me," Harry groaned, "Nott! Nott's been in the fucking Chamber of Secrets for
months! I- I told Sirius about the Basilisk! Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!"

"That is troublesome indeed," Dumbledore's clear voice rang out from behind him, and Harry
was not the only one to turn and find the Headmaster there, almost hanging off Lilith's elbow.
He was, perhaps, the only human man Harry had ever met as tall as she was in her true form,
and it made him seem even more impressive somehow, despite the sunken appearance of his
cheeks and eyes. They were still clear and shining with force as he spoke, however, "That
would make us all fools, for not putting it together sooner, but there is little point in berating
ourselves now, and it is not like the Chamber of Secrets is the only place in Hogwarts that
few can access. Well done, Sirius, Harry. In the meantime: What is your plan, Minerva? How
may I assist?"

If anything, having the Headmaster there, yet deferring to her, seemed to unnerve the
previously calm, seemingly unflappable Deputy Headmistress, but she still swallowed and
launched into a brief explanation.

In the meantime, Harry left the girls there with clear instructions: Follow McGonagall's and
Dumbledore's instructions, no matter what they were, but to stay safe above all else. And, if
possible, get word to Hermione and Ron about his own plan, which was to go find Sirius and
bring him back.

He was not about to lose his Godfather, not now.

In the space of just a few minutes, most of the students had cleared the Entrance Hall, so
Harry, with Lilith flying just behind and over his right shoulder, had a much easier time
moving through the Castle on their way up to the second floor. Once they reached it, he
dashed right, following a corridor he hadn't had common reason to use for at least two full
terms, then left again at the second passage. There were still nine students in the hall he
spotted at once, most moving toward him in robes with blue and bronze trim.

Myrtle's bathroom, where they had once illegally brewed Polyjuice Potion in his second year,
was the sixth door on the right.

It was also a door the first few students were about to pass, and it was wide open, with bright,
flashing, multicolored light streaming through it.

"No, stop!" Harry cried, "Don't go past-"

Sirius Black flew through the open doorway, his wand blazing mid-air with his black, silky
hair covering his bloody face, to impact the far wall with a thump before he slumped to the
floor, still casting, though clearly dazed, "Sirius!"

Four of the five students closest screamed, and all four of the further ones, a bit younger, did
the same before the furthest turned back and ran the other way.

Harry moved as quickly as it could, but, as with a nightmare, he felt like he was moving
through treacle, or worse.

Everything happened in slow motion.

Snowflakes drifted out through the open loo door, thick and white, despite it being nearly
spring, and an unseasonably warm day. A white dusting had even followed Sirius, swirling to
blanket his boots just a little.

He saw the woman first. Light gray skin, clad in nothing to conceal her darker gray, almost
slate nipples, and a blood-drenched pussy that ran rivulets down her legs. She cackled as she
leaped through the open door to land in a three-point stance before turning her head to face
Harry and Lilith. Long fangs were bared as she hissed, her red-shining eyes the final proof he
needed.

This woman with dark hair, grave-like complexion, and ruined body that should have killed
any mortal was the vampire, possibly the one who had exsanguinated the poor couple in
Hogsmeade, and maybe Vicky Frobisher.

Two more students ran, while the remaining three stood in panic, far too close for Harry's
comfort. They, at least, seemed to be moving a bit faster as the vampire-woman blurred into
motion in their direction, her speed completely supernatural and nothing, nothing he came
close to matching.

Then it appeared. A hulking monstrosity of form, bipedal but only just, with ape-like limbs
that still trailed the ground as it moved, hunched over, a cock as big as Luna's whole body
hanging from between its legs, with a wide, snarling, tooth-filled, frog-like mouth that was
only the start of the spined horror, with its spike lined arms, back, and legs.

A Slytherin tie still hung from around its disproportionately small neck, barely hanging by a
few threads, and a wand, a vaguely familiar wand, sprouted literally from its right hand.

But it was the eyes that Harry found most familiar, though they were not from someone he
knew well.

Theodore Nott's eyes, blazing with hatred as the monster moved, faster even than the
vampire.

Somehow, even dazed, Sirius leaned to the side just in time, and the ponderously huge fist, as
large as his Godfather's whole torso, smashed into the brickwork of the wall just next to him.

Then the battle was on in earnest, as snow drifted serenely in the halls before Harry's eyes.
 Shelter in the Knight

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

NOTE: Yes, this chapter's a bit on the short side (just 3.5k words or so), but there wasn't
another good place to end it. It also does a decent job, I think, of representing the staccato,
rapid-fire pace of a climactic battle. ;)

Chap. 81: Shelter (in the Knight)

From the snow flurries that shouldn't be there in the first week of May, to the hair waving
from that Ravenclaw girl's shoulders as she turned and ran from the monsters, to Sirius' wand
which once had been so very fast to Harry, everything, everything Harry could see was just
happening so slowly. His own feet felt like they were mired in treacle as they pounded down
the hallway toward his Godfather blasting through the air, the students, and the spellfire they
narrowly avoided. Harry's wand was moving too, coming up to cast something, anything, but
he was just... too...

Slow.

All his years of practice, of fighting to survive first Vernon, then Dudley and his friends, and
every year so far at Hogwarts, had honed his reflexes to be the equal of any in the Castle.
They all seemed to be worth nothing. His wand would just not move fast enough, though his
mind raced at ten thousand kilometers an hour. He actually felt a bit like he imagined
Hermione did most of the time, his brain far outstripping his body's ability to act, as it
calculated trajectories and speeds, angles of attack and approach, how to dodge this spell,
when he would need to cast a Protego shield to deflect that orange curse, and guard Lilith
from being struck.

Nott's hulking body, whatever he had transformed into, blocked much of the wide, well-used
corridor, so Harry could not effectively see or protect the nine students on that side. Most
were fleeing, though, and both the beast and vampire were looking between he and Sirius
rather than the innocent bystanders. That was good, wasn't it?

They would probably be safe.

Still in slow motion, Sirius' most recent cast, a beam of incandescent yellow, lanced against
the gray, scaly shoulder of Nott's right arm. What happened was anything but what Harry
expected. Rather than injure, or make Nott flinch, or recoil, or do much of anything, the light
simply blasted apart into a dazzling array of sparkling colors that dimmed as they exploded
outward, leaving not so much as a mark. Nott didn't even seem to register that he had been
struck. It was in that moment that Harry realized why Sirius, who was quite a competent
duelist as far as he knew, had been helpless.

None of the spells he had cast had missed Nott, but none of them did any good, either. It was
as if he were totally immune to spells, for every color of light Harry had seen his Godfather
send the monster's way had rebounded, reflected, or refracted into glistening light... with no
effect.

"Harry, no, get out of here!" Sirius shouted as he sent a quick glance their way while he
struggled at a snail's pace to his feet. Somehow, the words seemed to come as quickly as
Harry's mind was moving, but his body was just not.

The Vampiress moved next, her white- and yellow-crusted mouth opening wide into another
cruel, long-fanged snarl as she threw herself forward toward Harry. Like a torpedo or a
missile, she propelled herself over sixty or more feet through the air in a single bound, with
long, bloody nails outstretched toward his throat.

He was too slow, too late, too...

"Impedimenta!"

The word had sprung from his throat on instinct alone, somehow. Harry, his mind still in
overdrive, had a moment to admire the attractive figure of the vicious, bloody killer before
she bounced backward down the hall away from him. As she sailed through the air, he was
reminded that she was not all that attractive from the rib-cage down, where her abdomen was
abnormally stretched and wide, and her pelvis warped and shaped, while her cunt was, even
now, wide enough to accommodate a small child's whole body much less a baby's.

A quick glance, for Harry's eyes alone seemed to move at the proper speed, told him Nott's
humongous, misshapen dick was covered in old blood and semen too. He had been using her
for pleasure, then, after his body had killed and then ruined Vicky.

He fought the urge to vomit at the imagery of the poor girl, one of Ginny's dorm-mates, a
sweet enough young lady and pretty cute, literally ripped apart by that thing, far larger than
Harry would ever try to use on a woman.

The Vampiress landed on her feet somehow, twisting her body in mid-air to skid against the
flagstones of the hall. She lunged again, and Harry recast the spell, but her attack had not
come straight for him, and it missed entirely. She was so fast! To the right, around his barrier,
the woman glanced against a suit of armor, toppling it to the ground as she kicked off it with
one leg, and the other, almost clawed like a harpy's, shoved away from the window-frame
nearby.

Her trajectory shifted, and Harry twisted his own body to try and dodge as she reached for
him with blinding speed again. Too slow, far too slow.

Nott was lifting a huge, meaty paw to smash it down onto Sirius, who was wide-eyed, his
wand flashing at breakneck speed but just too slow, too useless against Nott's hide, which
seemed to glitter in the unseasonable, unnatural snow, unable to help himself, unable to
protect himself.

Just as Harry was unable to protect him.

Orange-violet light streaked from out of his field of vision and across Harry's right eye in a
wide, fast arc. It seemed to take about ten seconds to resolve itself into a rope of fire, which
seemed to grow from Lilith's right hand as her own clawed feet dug into the flagstones for
purchase, and she hauled on it with all her might.

The whip of flame, which had wrapped itself around the Vampiress' left arm just below the
elbow, went taut, and her body spun mid-air again. One foot he ducked as she sailed past and
over him, but the other kicked Harry in the forehead, sending him reeling.

He staggered backward three steps, off-balance and with his head swimming before he
recovered and could see straight again. That blow had, though glancing and impromptu, been
harder than even Dudley's powerful punch on the night the Dementors attacked them in Little
Whinging.

Lilith had decimated five Death Eaters in moments during the battle at the end of the
previous year. Hestia and Flora Carrow's aunt and uncle (Or was it mother and father? Their
relationship was a bit unclear to Harry) among them, along with some of the more vicious
Death Eaters. True, she had taken them by surprise, attacked invisibly with both magic and
the physical attacks her mutable form made possible, but he had seen her move so fast, so
fluidly, that Harry had internally compared her speed to Dumbledore's when he had been
dueling Voldemort's spirit what he had later learned was only a few scant minutes later.

She had seemed... well, not invincible, not really, but well beyond any of what Harry would
call a 'normal' threat.

It seemed that Lilith's earlier statement of not being a good combatant or front-line fighter
had been proven false, then. Now, he knew she was very right. While Lilith had followed him
into battle as fearlessly as any of his closest friends would, Harry knew in just a glance that,
this time, she was outclassed. Lilith was fast, inhumanly strong, and had superior reach
because of her whip and the Veela-like ability to throw fireballs from her hands.

The vampire was completely outclassing her, though. Every swipe of the Succubus' claws
met air, even a surprise kick with her long, digitigrade leg. Aside from the flaming lash that
was still wrapped several times around the slate-skinned woman's slender arm, nothing else
seemed to touch her. On the other hand, the vampire's long nails were already bloody with the
crimson that seemed to shimmer in the light of the spells that flew around the area, most
Sirius' as they bounced off Nott's hide. Lilith sported many long gashes, most in triplicate or
lines of four, and the two tugged each other back and forth with the whip, their bodies
moving in a blur of motion that seemed, again, completely dominated by the Dark creature
rather than Harry's lover.

It wasn't that Lilith was not strong, she was not being yanked off her feet and helpless, but
every time the two pulled in opposite directions, she lost the orange-lit tug-of-war, and had to
take a step closer, or in whatever direction the Vampiress pulled her.
That was almost always toward the woman's long, bloody fangs, and Lilith had to twist
awkwardly at the last moment to spare herself at least a painful bite, and perhaps worse.
Stories of people being incapacitated from the first touch of vampire fangs against their flesh
were not uncommon, so even if most were anecdotal, according to Harry's not-inconsiderable
expertise in the Dark Arts, it was not a risk he thought she wanted to take, and he didn't
blame her.

Harry wanted to help, but he could not get a clear shot. His wand hand was moving too
slowly, reacting too late. By the time he had a good aim, Lilith was where his wand should
be, directly in the line of fire more often than not.

He could not help her, not yet. Once there was a more clear victor, or at least when he could
see a better opportunity, perhaps.

Harry's racing mind knew he was suffering from decision paralysis, the bane of most people
in a crisis situation. It was not something he was familiar with personally, however, as he had
always been someone to act first, and think later. He was more mature, now, more prone to
thinking... Was this the cost?

If so, Harry had already resolved to never finish growing up. He did not want to be helpless,
to be stuck considering the what-ifs, where-fores and why-fores, and the endless if, if, if, if,
IF, any longer. He wanted to act, to help.

But he could not, at least not the Succubus. She was losing, but not so badly that she would
not last a few moments longer, at least.

The floor beneath his feet rumbled, and a concussive wave blasted snow and masonry-dust
past his left side. Harry's view snapped to the left preternaturally quickly, a jarring, shocking
sensation compared to how slowly everything except for the two opposing furies who
shrieked and railed at each other just feet away.

Nott had, in the span of a few moments, pulverized three large sections of the wall opposite
Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, two pieces of the floor, a part of the ceiling, and one support
column nearby into a fine powder with tremendously powerful blows. Sirius was now in the
crater left in the floor by a powerful downward smash, rolling from just at the edge down into
the center in a heap, "Sirius!" Harry cried, and suddenly time shifted.

Now, while the world still moved slowly, he blasted forward, seeming to bend time itself to
his will as he was suddenly there, his wand conjuring a huge barrier of shimmering white
light in a convex dome between the older man and what had once been Theodore Nott. A
bellow of rage followed his arrival, and the shield rippled as a fist struck it dead-center, but it
held for the moment. Harry felt his knees try to buckle as the shield pulled magical energy
from his body to fuel itself, but it held, "Sirius, get up!"

His Godfather groaned, and laboriously rolled onto one knee and lifted both head and arm.
Blood poured down the left side of his face, and his right cheek was already discoloring with
a bruise, but he was alive, "Harry, get out of here, don't try to-"

"I know, spells don't work on him, we have to attack indirectly! Like the Troll my first year!"
He didn't know, precisely, where the plan, the idea, came from. He had faced down a dragon,
and a troll, giants, and now this creature. All were largely resistant or immune to the magic of
an average wizard, with the giants, for all their size, being the most vulnerable.

His own spells had severed fingers and worse, but many of the others on Platform 9 3/4 had
been forced to try and target the relatively weak, defenseless eyes or mouths of the massive
humanoids to have any effect at all. The Troll in their first year had been even more resistant
in its own way, despite being smaller, and their First-year curriculum had been utterly useless
against it. The Hungarian Horntail did have its weaknesses, including the eyes once more, but
Nott's eyes...

They were just wrong. They were the same, human-like, intelligent, for all they were filled
with rage and lust and nothing else. Harry knew without questioning it that if he went after
Nott's eyes, they would simply close, or he would protect them with a thick, tree-like arm. A
simple task, for the beast, and then Harry would have nothing except a chance to get
pummeled himself by the other arm.

"Kill Harry Potter," Nott snarled, sending a hissing, steaming spittle against the shield, which
in turn made a hundred smaller circles move out in rebounding waves like rain on a pond
before they faded.

Well.

At least that declaration made the plan, what Nott was sent to accomplish, clear.

If he was the target, then perhaps the others would be safe.

"Sirius, get the students out of here! I'll hold him off, he wants m-"

"Not a chance!" the older wizard suddenly roared, forcing himself to his feet despite bone
jutting out of one finger on his wand-hand, "You take them and go! He's after you!"

"That's why I need to be the one to stay!"

Before they could decide what to do, a shriek of pain and a cry caught both their attention,
"Master!"

The whip was gone, and the Vampiress had latched on to the Succubus from behind, pinned
her to the flagstone floor with both arms and legs wrapped around the larger body, one of
Lilith's wings bent unnaturally to the side where she had obviously broken it. He watched the
red eyes meet his for a moment as the gray-skinned woman opened her mouth in a rictus grin,
"Her blood is strong," she hissed, and then bit down on Lilith's purple-hued neck.

"No!"

"Look out!"

Harry was already moving, leaving even his injured Godfather to try and protect his lover,
but he had not taken even one step when he saw Nott's hand raise. Not in a fist, but pointing.
One long, sharp claw shimmered with light, and Harry's world returned to slow motion as he
saw it shimmer with light like a falling star.

Nott's voice was clear, and he was aiming not at Harry or Sirius, or even Lilith.,

He was aiming at the shield itself, "Finite Incantatum."

The monster had cast the spell with a clear, human-like voice despite its monstrous
appearance, and without a wand. At least, not an intact one. Even now, thanks to the slowed
nature of his perception of time, Harry could see fragments of it embedded in Nott's very
hand.

Not that it mattered. The shield crashed down, vanishing in a moment as the invisible energy
touched it. A half-heartbeat later, Harry ducked under the clawed swipe of Nott's left hand,
and the wind of its passage swept his hair forward, blinding him for a moment.

That had been close, he almost-

The follow-up was blindingly fast, too fast for Harry to stop. Nott had cast, swiped, and used
the momentum of his huge hand moving through the air to spin on one foot, while the other
lashed out, and caught Harry directly in the midsection.

All the air left his body in a whoosh, and he felt the world spin around him at a breakneck
speed once more, before his world flashed white-red-black.

Sounds.

Noises.

Pain.

Familiar.

He knew that feeling.

Concussion. He had first learned what the word meant when he was seven, after all, when
even his aunt had been forced to take him to a doctor for treatment after Dudley's gang had
gone a little too far and left him unable to walk straight for an hour or more.

Harry forced his eyes open still. There was... too much to do. He could not afford to be hurt,
or at least to allow it to affect him. With a force of will that might have impressed even
Voldemort himself, Harry rolled from his side onto his stomach and pulled one knee beneath
him. His head swam, his vision shook, and nothing made sense as he blinked. Two
Dumbledores, but no- there was no Dumbledore here. James? His father? No... Sirius. Sirius.

Lilith!

Nothing made sense.

He had just been kicked and sent flying. Somehow, he had cracked his head not against the
floor or walls, stone and wood, but had landed against the back of one of the still-fleeing
Ravenclaws. Terry Boot, one of his year-mates, struggled to his feet, too, "Harry- Harry, are
you alright?"

"Run," Harry grunted, "Tell- Tell Dumbledore. Great Hall. Hel- Help!"

"I'm on it, mate," the D.A. member told him solemnly, and spared the fight one last glance
before he took off even faster than before.

Thunder struck the hallway. Again, and then a third time.

A foot entered Harry's slowly-sharpening vision, and he looked up to see Nott physically
towering over him. The great, frog-like and many-fanged mouth opened into a savage smile,
"Die, Harry Potter," it said, and the same foot that had kicked him so viciously rose high, as if
to stomp him flat.

A clawed foot, long and thin-toed like a lizard's.

A lizard.

He had the idle thought, Not a dragon foot.

Then it came down.

There was the sound of an impact, but Harry felt no pain.

At least, not beyond what he already had.

Slowly, his eyes opened.

Ron was there. Ron, and Ginny, come from the same direction Terry had just taken off in, "I
got you, Harry!"

"Harry, come here, I've got some Healing spells I can try, and-" He gaped as the fiery red-
head cast spells he had seen her mother use over many summers at the Burrow, just as
seamless and silently, and some of his bruises faded, and cuts closed off, numbed, or stopped
bleeding.

But most of his attention was not on her, for all that he loved Ginny Weasley. It was also not
on Lilith, or Sirius, or the Vampiress, or even Nott.

It was on Ron.

Ron, who now stood six and a half feet tall, taller than normal by several inches. Ron, whose
uniform robes were ripped and torn, shredded by a deep crimson and umber carapace that
sprouted from his back, his arms, his legs, his chest, and even wreathed his head in a crown
of thick, dark brown ivory.
Ron Weasley's Succubus-given power had manifested at last, and just in the nick of time, "I'll
keep you two safe," he grunted, and clawed feet dug into the flagstones as he crossed two
arms in front of his head.

Nott's fist crashed against them, and Ron wavered... but only for a moment.

His best mate grunted and winced, but he held firm, while Ginny did her best to get Harry
back into fighting shape.

A third blow rained down, and this one shifted Ron to the right in two staggering, sideways
steps, but he was still upright, and his arms straight, his brown eyes as determined, as firm as
Harry had ever seen them, "I guess... I've always been a knight."
 Essence Awry

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Trigger Warnings: Proof she's mortal still. That's all I'll say about this for now. Not even
Harry has Plot Armor here. ;) (Though someone else sort of does...)
 Chap. 82: Essence Awry
Ron Weasley had grown up the youngest of six boys in a busy, boisterous house. Even as a
young wizard surrounded by his brothers, while he was no stranger to physical violence, it
was not his forte, or area of expertise. He was no great martial artist or trained fighter. But he
was, however, a young man who had been taught to defend himself against opponents much
larger than himself, stronger than himself, with greater leverage and reach, as only the
youngest boy of six (even if one had never done more than push him aside) could be.

Theodore Nott, or the monster he had become, definitely fit the definition of 'bigger, stronger,
and with greater reach'. Fit it in spades in fact, as he towered over Ron's staunch form. Taller
even than Hagrid by at least a foot, three wider, and with at least twice as much muscle mass
on the strange, lizard-like but completely misproportioned body. He should have hammered
Ron Weasley into the ground with the first blow.

The second, double-fisted hammer that came down against Ron's crossed arms should have
turned the wizard into a paste.

They would have, Ron knew, if it wasn't for the chitinous armor that had sprung up around
his body as he ran forward, and threw himself in to protect his best friend.

Ron Weasley knew he had not always been Harry Potter's best friend, though Harry had
always been Ron's. Even when they were fighting (almost always Ron's fault, he could admit
now), the tall boy had valued the life, friendship, and health of his mate, the one, or at least
first, person to view him as a person in his own right, not just 'one of the Weasleys'. The first
person who had congratulated him, Ron, on passing his first-term exams (something none of
his brothers had yet to do, in fact, even five years on).

The person who knew what Ron saw in the Mirror of Erised earlier that year, knew Ron's
jealousy and envy... but did not judge him for them.

Harry felt the same, after all, about Ron. Ron, and his family, who loved him even if
sometimes it seemed he was overlooked. Harry, who had been beside him through thick and
thin, who had stood up for and defended Ron, even against Hermione once or twice.

Ron did not understand himself, in their first year, why he had sacrificed himself to win that
chess game. Aside from a few dreams about it years later, mostly replaying the game in his
head again and again to analyze where he had made mistakes to get to that point, he did not
dwell much on it. It was simply something that, to his eleven year old mind, had needed to be
done. So he had done it. Like Harry, Ronald Bilius Weasley was a practical young man.

Now, he understood better.

He loved Harry. Not romantically, of course. If anything, this last year had highlighted that
their friendship was anything but that, for all that he had enjoyed shagging Iris. He believed
that Iris was a different person, for all that she shared a body with Harry.
No, he loved Harry like a brother. Closer, even, than his actual brothers. Hermione had used
a phrase once that, as he had dashed forward to take a blow meant to destroy his best friend,
which Ron found highly apt now: Found Family.

Family chosen during a life, not the one a person was born into. He loved the Weasleys, of
course, but Ron knew Harry was a part of his family now, and forever. Not just an honorary
Weasley, but part of Ron's family. They had fought, bled, and even fucked together.

He would not, could not, let him die.

So once more, as he had taken the last few steps and thrown his arms up, he had thought of a
chess game distant in time, from years before. Knight to C3... deflect the queen. Only this
time, the big guy's the queen.

He was still protecting Harry. Ginny too, of course, instead of Hermione, who should still be
safely in Gryffindor Tower, protecting it along with the other Prefects. He hoped she was, he
was already worried enough just about the people here. Behind Nott, Sirius was struggling to
his feet again, shouting at the straggling Ravenclaws to run back the way they had come, to
find another way to their Common Rooms. They mostly listened, leaving the corridor
thankfully clear. Mostly, anyway.

It was a good thing, because Nott seemed to be finished pulling punches.

Ron had been just as surprised as Harry to see the red shell appear around his body, but he
was grateful for it. Each blow he had blocked or absorbed by the monstrosity in gray scales
had jarred him to the bone, and sent ringing, hot sensations of vibration through his body, but
the shell itself had stayed strong.

He could take the pain, if it meant he wasn't actually being injured. So he still stood
threatening Nott, standing between the beast and his best friend, between the monster and his
sister. He would do everything he could to keep its attention. Even as Nott raised both hands,
one curled into a fist and the other pointing with the finger that held shards of his old wand,
Ron simply took a breath and shifted his stance into a more firm position, "Come on, then.
Bitch."

It may not have been quite the insult he hoped to the young man, who likely hadn't kept up on
slang from across the pond as much as Ron had, but Nott's familiar yellow eyes narrowed in
the huge, frog-like face. He didn't say anything, even though now Ron knew he could speak
perfectly clearly. Instead, he only snarled as a jet of red light flew from his fingertip.

Stunner, Ron thought, and at lightning speed, calculated the risk and angle.

He couldn't move, if he did either Harry or Ginny would likely be struck. He could take the
hit to the chest, hope the armor would save him. Or he could try and bat it aside with his own
wand, which felt, for the first time, as if the long shaft actually fit his red-gauntleted hand. He
spun, whirling...

And missed.
The light shot out by Nott did not touch Ron's wand-tip, or the unformed magic he had tried
to use to deflect it. Instead, it touched the back of Ron's hand.

Stunners, the slang word to describe a narrow class of spells that remove consciousness from
a target by disrupting their nervous system, were universally a bright red jet of light. The
particular spell most Hogwarts Students learned in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class
required the incantation, Stupefy. Nott did not say the words, which did not particularly
surprise Ron. Most of them had started nonverbal casting early in the year, and even the
slower students (like himself) had begun to master at least some spells that way. Largely, the
class of spells, Stupefy in particular, did not particularly care where they struck a target. Hair
might be safe, but if the spell touched skin, the target was likely hitting the ground
unconscious. At least, without a Giant's skin to toughen them up, or something similar. Ron
did not know if his armor would protect him. He didn't want to count on it, either way. But,
where a person was impacted did have some effect. The center of mass, or the head, being
struck by the spell had a greater effect than if it clipped the tip of one finger as less magic
was absorbed in the latter case, and it had to travel through more nerves to reach the key
spots it affected.

As the spell smashed into and through his chitinous glove, Ron Weasley learned two key
facts about his new ability. It was, in fact, a part of him. He felt the magic enter his body just
as it would when it touched skin. The magic did affect him.

But it only affected part of him. His right arm, his wand arm, went numb and the bit of wood
clattered from his suddenly slack grip.

Yet he still stood. Ron grinned, and if Nott had been human, he might have even been
intimidated by the almost malicious glee on the young wizard's face as it was framed by the
massive, umber horns that accompanied the rest of his new shell.

A moment later, Ron's left hand, curled into a fist with the spiked edges of his knuckle-
guards pointed forward, crashed into the bottom of Nott's jaw, and sent the monster
staggering back three paces. Ron suppressed a shudder as the beast's dick, still rock-solid,
flopped past his face as he moved away. Was the creature actually turned on despite the
violence around them?

Or was it the violence itself doing that?

Either way, he didn't have time to care. His hand was still numb, but Ron found he could
move it clumsily, as if he'd been out in the cold for too long without gloves or warming
charms, so he bent and scrambled for his wand until he watched the wood enter his grip
again.

He stood up just in time to catch one of Nott's knees in his face. For a moment, Ron saw
nothing but white with black stars flashing through his vision. Not quite quickly enough,
those stars, strange, unknowable shapes, soon resolved themselves into the ceiling of the
corridor, flecked with snow that still blew strangely out of the bathroom's open, broken
doorway. The timing mattered because even though Ron's mind had entered the too-familiar,
sharpened, hyper-aware state he had come to associate with life-or-death situations, he was
too slow to stop the long-toed, reptilian foot from crashing down across his torso with
tremendous force.

He felt and heard the flagstones shatter and pulverize beneath him, and the great, thick plate
across his ribcage cracked too, but it did not give way as his body lurched to absorb some of
the momentum, "Fool," Nott hissed from just over his head. Acid-like saliva dripped from the
toothy maw, and it sizzled as the heat of it touched the growing drifts of white flakes, while
multi-colored spellfire bounced against the beast from both sides as Harry and Ginny joined
Sirius in their assault once again, "You die first, then. Avada Ked-argh!"

Someone had changed tactics, Ron noticed idly, as most of a statue depicting a man on a
rearing horse, sword raised high, smashed through the space Nott occupied. They were
roughly similar in size, he guessed, but the statue of marble must have out-weighed the
monster by two or three times, and the action of Hermione's muggle fissicks came into play
quite violently as the two careened down the hall, narrowly avoiding Sirius, who dove out of
the way just in time.

Somehow, Ron lurched to his feet, the extra height and pointed ends of his extremities made
things a bit awkward compared to how he normally went, but he soon discovered that if he
simply moved on instinct, rather than try to control things deliberately, he could get around
just fine. It would still be something he had to keep in the back of his mind though, he found
as the tip of his left horn scraped into a torch sconce, then sheared a painting (its inhabitant
long since fled) nearly in half.

He was a bit dazed, sore, and his chest-plate was bleeding slightly from a crack far too close
to his last chest wound to be comfortable, but Ron stood tall, his stance wide and arms
forward to protect himself and keep Nott from coming after his friends again. He would
protect them. It was a knight's duty to protect their lord, after all. Even if Harry Potter was
not given such a title, it was one that Ron felt he had earned a dozen, a hundred times over.

He would protect his sister, and his best friend. It was just the way things were. The only way
they could be.

Yet, as Ginny stepped up on his left, her face set in a firm rictus of fury, her brilliant, coppery
hair flashing in the same magic-stirred breeze that mixed the snow through the air, Ron felt
calm. His beautiful sister, his almost-lover, was there beside him, protecting him, too.

And on his right, Harry Potter, one hand holding a violet-red fireball, and the other his
familiar wand. His best friend's expression did not hold the same fury Ginny's did, but it
nearly mirrored Ron's own determination, as if Nott's attack was merely a precursor to the
student-turned-monster's inevitable defeat.

Ron supposed, in a way, it was. The statue, now in six large pieces and untold numbers of
smaller ones, fell in a torrent from the wall down the T-intersection where it had impacted,
and Nott stepped free, snarling once more and apparently completely unhurt, "That's not
great," he observed as casually as he could make himself speak.

"At least it did something, unlike the rest of our spells," Harry shot back, "We need to do
something fast, Lilith won't be able to hold that vampire off much longer."
Ron nodded, that was painfully obvious. As furiously as the Succubus had been fighting for
the last minute or two, she was bleeding profusely in several places, and had only narrowly
avoided having the fiend clamp her long teeth down on tender flesh. He did not want to
speculate what would happen if the Vampiress ever ingested the blood of a creature from
another plane, but he didn't think it would be good in any case. Still, they had more pressing
matters to think about as Nott picked up the larger, back half of the horse statue and hurled it
down the hall toward them.

He stepped forward, one hand raising to punch the statue out of the air if he had to, while the
other flicked in a familiar pattern he had learned more from Harry than even the fake Moody
in their fourth year. Alongside his own, two more Shield Charms rippled into existence
moments before the statue reached them.

Luna Lovegood, proud Ravenclaw, magical creature lover (in several ways), witch, and even
more proud new member of Harry's widening circle of lovers, heard the Patronus, a goat,
deliver the message to the Headmaster as clearly as everyone else in the Great Hall. A deep
voice, gravely, one Luna had only rarely heard. In fact, just twice, both on the same day. The
very day, in fact, where Hermione and Harry had organized Dumbledore's Army. It was not a
complicated message, but it was weighty with import, "Albus, there's Death Eaters in
Hogsmeade. Lots of them. Send support."

There was a hurried, rushed quality in Aberforth Dumbledore's voice, but he did not truly
sound panicked. That was something, at least.

Luna looked up from the silvery-white goat as it vanished into mist, its mission concluded.
The Headmaster sighed and looked to McGonagall, who was frowning herself, "There was
supposed to be additional security in the Village. If they are being that hard-pressed, I'm
afraid we've little choice, Albus. Some of us will have to go."

"But our priority must be the school," Flitwick squeaked.

The other Professors all nodded quickly. McGonagall hesitated, sending another questioning
look at Dumbledore, but the old wizard only gestured for her to continue, "Very well, then. I
suggest we split our forces evenly. Half of us will remain here, half will go to Hogsmeade.
Do I have volunteers for the latter?"

Slughorn, to several people's surprise, was the first to raise his hand. But he was shot down
by the Headmaster almost as quickly, "Horace, I'm afraid I must ask you in particular to stay.
If you are caught out in the open..."

"Ah... I admit, I hadn't considered that," the heavy-set wizard said with a chuckle as he wiped
sweat from his brow, "I... I will stay."

"I'll go," Flitwick followed quickly. After him, the volunteers kept coming faster. Professor
Aurora Sinistra was next, then Madame Hooch, Hagrid, and the Centaur, Firenze.

Which meant, Luna quickly realized, that Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Professors Vector,
Trelawney, Sprout and Babbling would remain alongside the Healer, Librarian Madame
Pince, and Argus Filch. It was hardly an even split, but she was well aware that the assistance
Hogwarts would be sending was hardly without consequence. Even if they were, for the most
part, less well known than some, each of them was a powerful spellcaster in their own right
aside from the Centaur, whose marksmanship was known to be among the best in his former
herd.

"I'll go too," Pansy interrupted the teachers as they organized their groups, "I want to help."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Miss Parkinson," Pomona Sprout replied quickly.

"I want to help, too," Daphne shot back, louder, "Try and stop me."

Luna stepped forward next, beaming happily. A moment later, Tracey Davis and Astoria
Greengrass had joined them, all of the girls Harry had escorted to the Great Hall. The
younger girl was immediately enveloped in a hissed argument with her older sister, but Luna
was not surprised when the sixth-year witch was forced to relent. If Daphne went, after all,
there would be no one to stop Astoria from following the rest.

Logic was so useful!

"They should be allowed to go, Pomona," McGonagall acquiesced shortly after the girls had
stopped hissing at each other and resolved to settle their squabble with glares instead,
"Hogsmeade can probably use the wands, and even the younger Miss Greengrass has
performed adequately at Defense. However, you will act only as support. Is that clear? That
goes for all of you. You will be there to assist the teachers and townsfolk, not to directly
engage the Death Eaters."

"Yes, Professor," the girls chimed almost as one.

McGonagall nodded severely, "Filius, I'll put them in your charge. Please keep them safe,
too."

"Of course!" the diminutive Professor chirped, "Very well, then, you lot. After me! And try to
keep up!"

Luna giggled. Didn't he realize he was the shortest one there? Oh... he had summoned a
Broom! That was quite smart! She was very glad he was her Head of House. Thankfully, she
was rather talented with a Summoning Charm as well, "Accio Harry's Firebolt!"

Moments later, she, with Astoria riding behind her, whooping, shot off after her Head of
House with the other girls a little slower to act and trailing behind.

This was going to be fun! Perhaps even more fun than the battle at the Department of
Mysteries!

Harry gaped, his mouth fell open in horror at what he saw. Even the monstrosity that
Theodore Nott had transformed into was, in many ways, a pale imitation when compared to
the source of this new, more personal, fear. In fact, Ron and Sirius seemed to be doing an
admirable job between them of keeping Nott busy, which was what had allowed Harry to
divert enough attention to even notice the development in question.

It had been obvious from the start that the female vampire was a superior fighter to Lilith,
battle-form or not.

The action had happened so fast, even mid-battle with his senses firing on overdrive, Harry
could barely see it. A Passion-Fireball had been created and Lilith was mid-swing, about to
release, when the Vampire suddenly blurred into motion faster than ever before. Her bare fist
backhanded the fireball away, where it splashed harmlessly against the marble floor, leaving
only a faint scorch mark. The heat and magic of it blackened the beast's skin, but the gray-
skinned woman did not even seem to notice. Lilith's flaming whip was already in motion too,
moving with grace and speed that would have left Harry in awe if he could spare the energy
to feel that particular emotion.

The Vampiress cartwheeled over it with the same blinding speed, as if it was a slow rope
swung by a toddler against an experienced acrobat in a routine practiced thousands of times.
She landed on the burned hand, used that to spring up and over the Succubus, and then it was
too late.

From behind, the Vampire lunged forward between Lilith's dragon-like wings, both arms
snaking over those joints and under her arms, pinning all four limbs in place as her hands
clasped together. The combined weight was enough to drive Lilith to her knees, and that
momentary distraction, just as Harry's too-slow, far too slow, wand was rising to protect his
lover, friend, and Pet, the creature gave him a red-eyed stare filled with malicious glee. In his
mind, as her fangs extended even further, he heard an unfamiliar voice, "Your pet will be
delicious! The Master will reward me for capturing her essence!"

His spell left his wand, a Cutting Curse intended to sever the Vampire's head from her
shoulders even though he knew it was risking Lilith, too. At the exact same moment, fangs
pierced tender, lavender-tinted flesh at Lilith's neck.

She would be alright, Harry thought. She could use Body Morphology, her best-ranked
ability, very quickly. She would shift the major vein, and-

And Lilith went limp, her body trembling in what looked to Harry like a forced orgasm.

The Vampiress drank for only a split second, but her lips were bright red when his curse hit
her. The force of his spell tore half her neck away and sent a fountain of dark red, almost
purple, blood into the air where it sprayed across the hall. A miss. He'd missed, and not done
serious injury.

A human would have died from blood loss in moments, but a Vampire? Especially one that
seemed this powerful? Already, he could see the wound closing as she fed her dark arcana,
fueled by the very essence of life, into the wound.

Again, she bit down on Lilith's still bleeding neck. Another spell, and she moved, pulling
Lilith with her.
Three solid swallows, Harry counted, as his feet moved in slow-motion, even the light that
flew from his wand as fast as he could make himself cast was too slow to catch her.

Ginny's conjured icicles flew a little more accurately somehow, and one of the four speared
through the Vampire's arm as she dodged the rest into the important one. The Vampire hissed
as the ice turned red-purple around the entry and exit wounds, but she let Lilith go.

The Succubus crumpled to the floor, bleeding from dozens of wounds, still trembling in
orgasm...

And the Vampire stood tall, the wound on her neck already almost closed, ignoring the burn
on her hand and spike of ice in the opposite upper arm, "We win," she hissed, and then turned
to run, her black hair streaming behind her as she streaked away up the corridor with
impossible speed.

There was no way to catch her, though he saw Ginny start to run after.

She was too fast. Nott, Harry realized, was nothing more than a large, imposing distraction.

The Vampiress was the real threat.

But she was gone, somewhere in the castle, and there was nothing Harry could do about it for
now. They had been out-played. The only thing for it, Ron would tell him, would be to deal
with the distraction as quickly as possible so they could focus their efforts on the chess piece
sneaking toward their King.

... Whatever that King actually was.

While he turned back toward Nott, his body seeming to move faster as time resumed its
normal pace, he felt something strange. Through his bond with Lilith, he felt weaker,
diminished somehow. He knew it was not himself, but her that was feeling it, but it was still
disconcerting. But Lilith was still alive, and while wounded, she would recover with copious
amounts of his semen.

Nott, Theodore Nott, had to die. They could- they would deal with the Vampire afterward.

He just hoped that, whatever her target was, they would be safe long enough for help to
arrive, "Ginny, we have to take care of Nott before we go after her!"

The girl's head whipped around, her expression fierce behind whirling, fiery hair. She
nodded, and he watched her skid to a halt mid-turn, her wand coming to bear.

Nott's huge, squat neck flexed as his toad-like head cocked to the side after another blow
from the now shattered statue. It had been flung at him repeatedly by Sirius and Ron while
Harry had been distracted, and now he thought the pieces were too small to have much effect.
Still, the beast flexed almost like it was cracking its neck from side to side, then gave a
soundless roar, its mouth opened wide.

At least, he thought it was a soundless roar, until the shining, viscous gob of black goo, the
size of his torso, flew out of the orifice, sizzling in the air as it moved.
 Daybreak

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

NOTE: This chapter has some dark topics (character death and mentions of assault). Just be
warned. Nothing too graphic though, believe it or not.

Also, the Vampiress' name is given at the end of the chapter. It's not mine, she's an OC
created (presumably) by the person whose art I used on Sub Star and Pa Tree On. If you are
said person, feel free to contact me for proper credit (I'd also take it down or change if if
requested, though of course I'd rather not- it's a good name.)
 Chap. 83: Daybreak
Luna smiled benignly at the six Professors currently in the Great Hall. Minerva McGonagall,
Horace Slughorn, Bathsheda Babbling, Pomona Sprout, Septima Vector, and her own Head of
House, Filius Flitwick, were talking in hushed tones around the center of the staff table, the
only one that had not been transformed into a makeshift barricade. As a counterpoint, herself,
and the four Slytherin girls that had been present when Harry had escorted them from his
quarters to the Great Hall were still students... but even in young Astoria, she could see
resolution and determination as much as fear.

Good. They would need that- she would need it.

Of all of the children, Luna Lovegood best knew what death was like. She had been able to
see the Thestrals from her first year, after all. Some things were worth dying for.

Sometimes, on lonely occasions that seemed rarer and less lonely as time passed with her
new and growing circle of friends, Luna wondered if her mother would still consider the
pursuit of knowledge worth the cost she had paid for it. But this was no mere pursuit of
knowledge they were fighting for. Not this time. The threat posed by Voldemort, his Death
Eaters, and other servants was existential. Not just against them directly, but against all of
Wizard-kind, and the entire magical world.

That was the threat Luna Lovegood saw. His fighting posed a danger to the locals of the
United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland (and so on), yes. Even to the people of
mainland Europe. But the real danger was that his escalating violence would push the Statute
of Secrecy beyond the breaking point, and wizardkind would be annihilated or enslaved by
the Muggles that so far outnumbered them.

Many people, she knew, saw Luna Lovegood and saw a Loon, or a girl who was focused on
the unreal. Things fantastical, which no one else could see.

Luna Lovegood knew differently. No one but her and Harry, Hagrid included, had any idea
there was an Alraune in the Forbidden Forest. Alra was able to hide herself from those
unworthy, or those she considered dangerous. It was the nature of her kind. No one else had
ever seen a Wrackspurt, the things Hermione claimed did not exist. But she had seen them.

By the same token, sometimes Luna wondered why or how people missed seeing the larger
picture for the small details. The muggles had a saying about missing the forest for the trees,
did they not? And wizards called muggles blind!

She saw the branching pathways of the future not as a seer, or prophetess, or anything of the
sort.

Luna thought such things, by and large, were silly in a very Hermione-like way. Of course
Divination was a proven branch of magic (if shaky and occasionally unreliable), but it was
indeed real. Luna was not one of those people, no matter what they might say. She could not
see the future, or divine it.
What Luna was, however,Was very good at reading patterns, and extrapolating their
continuation.

One could even say she measured as a savant at such things.

Throughout History, especially the history of magicals, tyrants rose and fell. Empires with
them, yes, but often at a slower pace. Voldemort was just one more tyrant, but with each
cycle the tipping point between being able to stay hidden where they were safe, and being
forced into death or slavery came closer.

Even if this time things stayed on the near side, she knew it would not be much longer. The
patterns were clear. If not Voldemort, then his successor as Dark Lord, wherever they
appeared in the world. There was too much technology on the muggle side of things, and too
much ignorance of it (often deliberate) on the magical side. There was too much fanaticism.

Death Eaters might be a purely British phenomenon, but their ideology was, sadly, not.

And Luna knew there was a good reason: Wizards should fear muggles. That pattern had
repeated itself throughout history. Whenever the two clashed, it was the magicals that lost.
Every single time, without fail.

The statistics and numbers were just too concrete, and too stark a divide existed between
them. Voldemort had to be stopped before the tipping point was reached, and that time was
fast approaching from all she could read. Everything from tax rates to the local economy of a
small town in Northumberland fed into her pattern recognition. Tea shops losing inventory to
spoiling at a faster rate, because the tension between the Ministry of Magic and India's
counterpart had slowed imports... it all mattered.

Everything pointed to the fact that the fulcrum was close.

This battle was not the deciding one, of course. The fulcrum was only close on a large scale,
and this battle was a move on a chess board, not the game itself. But it was a move that
inched them ever closer to the edge.

But she still smiled benignly, because she trusted the people around her, and trusted Harry.

She did not know Stubby Board- no, Sirius Black, she was supposed to call him this year,
since he was undercover as a Defense Teacher, either way, she did not know him well, but
she trusted him, too.

And of course the Lady of Dreams was helping out, and that was useful.

The teachers were planning to split up, check the castle in pairs. Confirm with the various
Houses that the students were safe.

Luna's smile switched to a frown immediately as the plan was decided on, "Excuse me,
Professors? Why don't you simply have the House Elves check the various Houses and then
bring strays to where they should be? That would save a lot of time, and probably be safer."
Flitwick and McGonagall shared a look with each other while most of the rest stared at Luna,
"Miss Lovegood, take fifty points for an excellent idea," McGonagalll pronounced after a
moment, then called, "Dippy!"

Luna's smile returned. Sending the professors out to search the school would leave them
vulnerable later, and that would increase the likelihood of Voldemort capturing the school
within two years from twenty percent to ninety if two of them were killed. If only one was
lost, which was a near certainty, the likelihood would still jump to seventy-three-point-nine-
five-three percent, and that was just unacceptable.

No one should have to think about decimals in the thousands of points! It was just not
necessary.

Oh, and the risk was bad too.

Even if nice, even numbers were much more fun to deal with.

On the other hand, if the House Elves, who could Apparate inside the school with ease, could
count the students in secret and take them where they were supposed to be, it would serve
multiple purposes. Those two things, of course, but also at least slowing the plans of any
students (Malfoy's former friends, for example) who might be trying to do something during
the crisis.

Yes, that was useful. As long as they didn't bother Harry or his friends, of course, but
hopefully that very nice Elf named Dobby would set them straight if they tried. Yes, that
seemed likely.

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to smile for Luna Lovegood, even if her friends were
terrified.

Surely they would be alright, however. Some minor injuries would occur in the unlikely
string of fate that would lead the attackers to the Great Hall, which was heavily fortified, and
had been announced as such, by the Professors. But between the master spellweavers and the
students present, not least of which was herself (after all, she had learned from the best in
Harry), she felt they would be safe enough.

The smile faltered a bit as her mind turned to a different task once that had been settled on.

What was the goal?

Voldemort was many things, but a fool was not one of them.

Why was this attack occurring? What did he seek to accomplish? Why now?

Lines and threads were followed at a speed most supercomputers would be hard pressed to
match, though some of the modern thinking machines might have come close.

Then her eyes snapped open and her head rose, "Professors, the main attack is a distraction.
There has to be another enemy in the school. I don't know what they're after, but that's the
real goal. Harry might be heading for a trap. And they will be at Hogsmeade too, to prevent
reinforcements from the town or Aurors. Perhaps the gates."

This time, even the teachers who didn't know her well, like Vector, gasped as they understood
the truth of her words.

McGonagall nodded, then turned to that teacher and Flitwick, "You two, take Burbage, and
Hagrid- get down to the gates. Hold them, but let the citizens of Hogsmeade through.
Clancy!"

When another House Elf appeared, she instructed the aged male quickly too, "Go with these
Professors. If there are wounded that come to the gate, or one of the Professors are more than
lightly injured, take them to the Hospital Wing and return. Bring another Elf with you if that
is the case. And stay safe, that is an order."

"Yes, Headmistresses Mackie-Gee," the Elf murmured, then looked up at the ones she had
indicated. He vanished into invisibility as the professors steeled themselves and started
moving.

They had a castle to protect, after all, and perhaps a town to save.

Luna's smile was back, and she knew exactly why. Alra and the Centaurs, along with at least
some of the Acromantula, would help protect the forest. With the Gates being watched, a
direct assault in force at the castle would be foolish. Now she just had to wait for the next
puzzle piece to fall into place, and she would hopefully know what they were after.

Harry himself, perhaps? Lyra? Hm. There was not yet enough information to prognosticate
accurately. Not yet, anyway.

Another wall shattered as Nott's body hit it at speed. Unlike the last, this one fed into a
classroom, so the spined, hulking brute was sent sprawling onto his side with limbs akimbo
as white chalk and brick dust slowly settled around him, "Keep it up, Harry," Sirius crowed
from his left, while Ginny worked to neutralize whatever poison or acid Nott had spat at
Harry and ensure it did no lasting harm to Ron. Harry had dodged the initial spit-ball of black
goo, but the follow-up spray would have caught him completely by surprise. Somehow, using
reflexes built by playing Keeper Harry supposed, Ron had dove in front of the second volley,
taking it on his back between small, misproportioned wings that otherwise resembled Lilith's
own. He had screamed in pain, and Harry watched his best mate's face contort in agony from
mere inches away, but Ron still stood firm, "Ow," the ginger growled, and for a moment
Harry saw a dim fire within his eyes that was rarely present.

Ronald Bilius Weasley might be prone to anger, and was more so a few years previously, but
rarely did he want an enemy dead. That was a thing Harry was more used to seeing in Death
Eaters.

"Ron!" Ginny screamed, and rushed to his side. Dimly, Harry knew she had started calling
his name first, but that she had cut it off when she'd seen what happened.
"Get him, Harry," Ron grunted, "I'm... gonna need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," Harry shot back, "You got him, Gin?"

"Yeah, go get him, Harry," the ginger girl said rapidly, her wand performing diagnostic and
healing spells she must have seen her mother do a hundred times or more, given the speed
she was casting at, "I'll take care of him, and Lilith if I can. Sirius has a broken arm."

Fortunately, his Godfather's injury was on his off-hand, which did little to impact his own
casting speed. Together, Harry and the long-haired Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher
had bombarded Nott with one spell after another, alternating between Banishing Charms, to
pelt him with large stones and bricks from the rubble he had created in the battle, to more
directly offensive spells.

Most of those did very little, but some were starting to have an effect, if only minor.

He and Sirius kept up the pressure as Nott fought to his feet, ending in a low stance with one
long-fingered, lizard-like hand wrapped around the shattered wall his body had just been
thrown through, with his hand, the one Harry knew still held fragments of his old wand
allowing him to still cast spells somehow, pointed forward. A shield much like Harry's own
Protego barrier rippled into place in the air, nearly plugging the hole for a moment.

The shift in tactics, from relentless offense to protecting himself, made Harry pause, "What's
he doing?"

"Don't know, don't care," Sirius shot back, "Keep casting. Target the walls around him. We'll
have to spread out a bit."

"Got it," Harry replied, unintentionally shouting. He went left, Sirius went right, and the
whole time he moved the younger wizard prayed silently in his head that Nott would not take
the opportunity to go through the middle and attack Ginny, Ron, or Lilith. The Succubus was
closer now from where the battle had moved somewhat down the hall, but she still lay prone
on the floor, unmoving. He knew she was still alive, he could feel it in the bond, but that was
still somehow diminished. Whatever the Vampiress had done to her, it was not good.

The Vampiress that was now running freely at lightning-like speed through the school.

A jet of black light that resembled a twisting whip of purest void blasted over Harry's
shoulder from behind, and struck the center of the shield, which winked out of existence. A
moment later, the void was gone, but a flare of fire wreathed in sparks of electrical energy
like static followed it, and smashed into Nott head-on, "What manner of creature is this,
Harry?" he heard Dumbledore's fatigued, but confident voice call.

"I think it's- it used to be Nott, Theodore Nott," Harry told him quickly, "He's got Nott's eyes
and- he showed up with a Vampire. A woman, gray skin, fangs, all of that. She- she fought
Lilith, and won. Drank a bit, and then took off- too fast for us to stop! Lilith-"

"Will be fine, Harry," Dumbledore told him softly, a gentle, wrinkled hand fell on his
shoulder as the Headmaster reached him, "I am aware that she can heal using... certain things.
She will need time, but she will be alright. What does and does not work against this
opponent? Remember what I have taught you about analyzing a foe this term."

Harry swallowed, though it was hard, and realized- Nott was not moving. Whatever sparking
flames Dumbledore had launched at him seemed to be holding the beast motionless, stretched
as if he were being electrocuted, but he did not shake. His black eyes, even at a distance,
burned with hatred but he didn't so much as twitch.

He forced himself to take a calming breath, while Sirius, his wand still covering the creature,
risked a glance at Harry and Dumbledore, probably to ensure his Godson was still healthy
and alive, "I... He's resistant to almost all direct attacks. He's being more affected now, like
he's being worn out, but until recently- just the last few seconds- all we've done that really
had any effect at all was throwing things at him, or attacking indirectly. Rubble can scratch
and pierce, but he heals so quickly it's almost like his blood is a healing potion or some such.
Magic mostly bounces off of him. He can spit black tar, but it burns like acid. Ron's hurt-"

"And is being attended to by the young Miss Weasley. Focus, Harry."

He wanted to glare at the old man, but...

But he knew he was right. He had to believe in his friends. He did believe in them. He trusted
them to take care of themselves, and each other. The problem had to be dealt with before it
hurt anyone else. Then he could afford to worry about them. And for that...

"The vampire was hit several times too, by Lilith's fireballs, her claws, and her whip, but
nothing seemed to stop her, either. Lilith held her off for a good while, about a minute, but
even then it was clear from the s- from the start that she was overpowered. Once the Vampire
got a good bite in, she just collapsed, and hasn't moved since. She only drank for a moment,
but my bond with her is weaker. Like she's weaker."

"Hm," Dumbledore said, keeping his own wand steady on Nott while he looked between and
behind them at the Succubus, "There is indeed still a bond between you. I can sense it, but I
think I see what you mean. There are old legends and tales... if the Vampire has indeed
consumed a Succubus' blood, then she may be the greatest foe of them all right now.
Thankfully, once that blood's power is expended, she will, or should, return to the normal
strength for a vampire of her age and power, whatever that is. I do not think Voldemort would
send one of the strongest... but I also do not think he would diminish his chances of success
by sending a fledgeling. Do you, Harry?"

"No. No, that's not like him at all. He'll do whatever it takes to win, but he doesn't like to
waste resources, either."

Dumbledore nodded. Sirius scowled, "Not that I'm not enjoying the discussion, it's quite
enlightening, but what, exactly, are we going to do about it?"

"Well, I think Mr. Nott- if that is indeed him, as you say, Harry," Dumbledore said with a
slight cock to his head, "will be free of that spell in approximately... thirty more seconds.
Until then, I suggest we use the time to take him out of the equation. Resistant to spells, but
indirect attacks have some effect? So be it."
Harry was shocked as the old wizard, limping on his poorly-attached and still untrained
magical prosthetic, stepped forward and over the shattered wall until he stood directly in
front of Nott, who was still motionless. Then Dumbledore looked up at the beast, and
nodded, "They do indeed resemble the eyes of Mr. Nott's father... I understand. And I think I
have a solution. Let us pray that it works. Portus. Portus. Portus. Portus. Portus. Portus."

The wizard kept casting for about five more seconds, until eleven or twelve pebbles and
pieces of rubble were glowing bright blue. Then he stepped back, and raised his wand.
Silently, every rock rose into the air, and then slapped into Nott's tough, gravel-gray hide,
"Apiosempra," he incanted at last. Then he turned back to Nott's face, "Goodbye. I am sorry I
had to do this, but I see little other option given the tactic used. It is a pity you saw no other
way yourself. Goodbye, Mr. Nott. I do not expect I will see you again."

At the last word, the first pebble flashed blue, and in a blur of multicolored light, Nott was
gone.

Dumbledore sagged only briefly as he turned a watery, misty look to Harry, "I believe that is
the last we will ever see of him. I am... It is not, sadly, the first time I have killed, but... I will
not stand by and let Voldemort's followers attack my students in my own school. I am with
you, Harry. Lead the way."

Walden MacNair was not having a particularly good day. It should have been a good day, by
all rights. It was supposed to be a simple raid, kidnap some whores to shag for a while then
toss away like dead meat to the lower ranks. Kill some folks. Put up the Dark Mark, and go
home. Simple, effective, and a plan that rarely, if ever, went awry. He knew they were just a
distraction. That was fine, he was good at being distracting.

It had started, he thought, with that first flash of blinding pain in his Dark Mark, brief though
it had been. There had been some initial successes as they started the attack on Hogsmeade,
with the intention of causing havoc and then making their way up to the castle as if they were
going to start a full-on assault. Even he didn't think they would necessarily fall for that part,
because only a fool- and like it or not Dumbledore was not a fool, no matter what they all
called him publicly- would attack that place with a measly twenty-seven men and women, no
matter how pure their blood.

He'd even gotten to use one of the kidnapped whores, and had felt the day was going
swimmingly when it all went wrong a scant few minutes after he'd finished.

Anti-Apparition wards had gone up all around them, followed almost at once by some new
magic that had prevented their Portkeys from activating.

Someone had shouted, "Aurors!" and then... well, things went south.

It wasn't just a few Aurors who might've gotten the jump on them and kept the Death Eaters
from running. Not that MacNair thought that was likely at the time.

It was a full combat team. Thirty men, three more than he had, plus a few more support staff.
Fucking Mad-Eye Moody was there! What were his men supposed to do? Of course, he'd
ordered them to fight.

And fight they did! He was almost proud of the vicious firefight that had occurred, since the
Aurors were hampered by a need to protect the victims, while his men and women had no
such care.

He, being the kind of man he was, had quietly slipped away in the fracas. He was a big man,
skilled at spellcasting, and a terror on the battlefield... to most people.

In his heart of hearts, Walden MacNair had always been a coward, and did not like facing
that. So he had slipped away to let his men be captured or killed by the superior force that
had surprise on them. He could spin it to his Master that he had narrowly escaped at the last
moment. He would be alright, even if the distraction had not lasted nearly as long as it was
supposed to.

How did the Aurors even know they were there? His team had only been in Hogsmeade for
five minutes!

He was brought up short as he slinked through the edges of the forest on the west side of the
village by a familiar face. A vampire, one that had cut a deal with his Lord six- or nine?-
months earlier, "You," the wench hissed, her eyes shining with an unholy violet light, "I need
you and your Mark. Come."

Then her hand had closed around his neck, and they were moving. Moving faster than he
could follow all but the grossest of terrain features.

The forest, distant mountains, more trees, the castle. At least, he thought it was the castle. His
arm suddenly burned as they passed some invisible, blurred line, anyway, and didn't stop as
they entered the halls of wherever they were.

Oh. They were there.

He knew that tapestry! It had been described as the landmark for retreat to the first group, the
one Malfoy's hateful spawn had led to their deaths.

"Inside," the Vampiress hissed, and threw him bodily through a door. He hit the ground hard,
rolled twice, and then she was there again.

This time, he was hoisted by his belt in a single hand, and she hauled his huge form like an
unruly child by the belt of his robes until they reached an ugly, silvery, tarnished crown,
"Pick that up, remove it from the bust, and set it down."

"Wha- What? You don't command me, bitch," MacNair tried to bluster as he stood up to his
full height. Who was this creature to command him?

Then his will crumbled like paper as she looked into his eyes, "You are mine to command
indeed, Walden MacNair. Coward. Fool. Pick up the Master's heirloom and set it on the floor,
my pet."

"Yes, Mistress," he murmured.

They were the last words he spoke. Three seconds after the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw
lifted off the bust it rested on, his Dark Mark, reacting with Voldemort's soul shard inside,
ripped his own soul from his body.

The vampire smiled down at the empty husk, and bent to retrieve the object she had been sent
for, "Well done, bait. Now, you should be safe after that effect was discharged, and the
creature's blood should allow me to do this at least once..."

She twisted and whirled into violet and black smoke, stepping into a twilight realm few
Vampires had ever reached before.

As it turned out, she had consumed Succubus blood twice previously in her life, both times
willingly. She had some experience with the abilities of Shadow Step. It was why she, older
than Harry or Dumbledore could ever have expected, was the one selected for this mission.

She appeared in a certain mansion in Wiltshire a few moments later in the same burst of
smoke and light, a certain crown held tightly in one gray hand, "For the Master," she
murmured to the Lady of the House, the whore of all Death Eaters, Narcissa Malfoy, "Give it
only to him, or suffer his personal wrath," the Vampiress said, her blood singing in delicious
agony.

For a vampire, every moment in which a Succubus' blood ran through their veins was the
most delicious torture. Like most magical creatures, Vampires gained a semblance of their
power after drinking from them, until that power was spent. But a Succubus' power was
intrinsically tied with lust and passion, two things Vampires often already had in abundance.
It made them want more. Ever more, until the power was gone. It was addicting.

That same blood sang in her veins, as Narcissa Malfoy, nude and covered in drying bodily
fluids as she always was these days, moved down into the basement to where her master was
now sequestered after... whatever had happened to him that morning.

It was that blood which prevented the vampire from noticing what else was happening. She
was too lost in the pleasure of it. She turned to the nearest other person, a young man, "You. I
am Kalakay Dubois. I am your new mistress. Please me."

The young man in black robes knelt, and the room exploded in the literal fire of the world's
nearest star as the creature with which she shared a soul-bond was Portkeyed into the surface
of the sun.
 Drifting / Through Red Snow

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 75 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (and
PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY from now until they're both caught up with each
other (like I was doing with FwB until this weekend).

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Chap. 84: Drifting / Through Red Snow

Nymphadora "Just" Tonks, Auror Third Class, surveyed the scene with as much aplomb as
she could muster. This was not, unfortunately, the first battle she had been involved in during
her short career with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she worried
sometimes that it would not be the last. Unfortunately, that aplomb seemed... lacking,
inadequate to the task.

To the young metamorph's credit, several other more seasoned Aurors had already had to turn
away from the carnage and vomit. Some were being treated even now by Healers from St.
Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for shock, and she imagined even more
would show signs of what the Muggle Doctors were calling Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

She could imagine how such a sight might cause nightmares for years or decades to come.

The battle on the High Street of Hogsmeade Village had been fierce, and not for the first
time, Tonks was reminded of just why she had wanted to become an Auror in the first place.
Her mother, a Healer herself, had argued most severely against it once. Her muggleborn
father, whose last name she had adopted as her nickname, had resisted too but had relented
earlier than her mother. She had seen, even as a child, what Wizardkind could, and often
would, do to each other when pushed to violence.

The magical world was a wondrous place, at times, full of mystery and, well, magic, both
figurative and, of course, literal. Fantastic creatures, sights, and spells were everywhere to
those with the eyes to see them. Eyes Tonks counted herself lucky to have every day.

At others, though, it was a place of stark terror and horror. Days like today. All Aurors,
during their training, watched films of the carnage inflicted by muggles on muggles (and,
rarely, wizardkind) during the great World Wars, and other conflicts up through the modern
day. It was intended to help harden them against the worst of what Wizardkind could do to
each other... and it sort of helped. Bodies exploded, ripped to pieces and shredded by the
shrapnel of an air-detonated bomb or a powerful anti-personnel mine were remarkably
similar to the aftermath of a pitched spell-battle. Only without the weirdness of it all.
A hand there, two fingers there, probably not from the same hand, the size was wrong, and a
foot from what was probably a third body, with char and cinder and blackened viscera
between them was a common sight on a muggle battlefield. The same could be seen that
quiet, unseasonably snowy day in late spring in Hogsmeade Village, high in the Scottish
countryside.

But the muggles didn't usually have the ability to turn people inside out, or boil the blood of
their enemies while it was still inside them, or liquify an entire skeleton and leave the rest of
the target to suffocate in unbearable agony over several minutes, as it the body no longer had
the support it needed to draw air. And that was just a few of the more mild dark curses.

The weird ones were worse, in some ways. Here, a body had been ripped apart by its own
intestines, drawn and quartered. Poor bloke had probably been alive when it happened, too.
There, one man's face had been transfigured, possibly accidentally, into the hind end of a
duck, and bird shite dribbled down the blasted-open remains of his ribcage. As she watched
in macabre horror, one loose tail-feather was pulled away and started to twist and swirl in the
wind along with the light snow.

Everywhere she looked, there were pieces of... well, things. Some bodies, some objects, some
clearly partially transfigured (often badly) from one thing into another, either stuck halfway
or only partly transformed. It was gruesome carnage, but it was also just a mess. Figuring out
who was what, where each object had been and what it was, would be a tedious, time-
consuming task. And, as an Auror Third Class, she was almost certainly going to be saddled
with a good portion of that work alongside most of her remaining graduating class.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had both, helped recruit her to the Order of the Phoenix two years
earlier, and assisted in her early advancement from Fifth to Third Class (citing her
Metamorph abilities, her tactical mind, her observational skills, or her ancestry as a Black,
depending on who he was chatting her up to), started issuing orders a moment later as he, too,
had taken a moment to briefly assess the scene now that the spells had stopped flying.

Whatever that black-and-gray creature had been that whisked away Walden MacNair would
be someone else's problem.

Without waiting for Shacklebolt to get to her, Tonks bent at the knees to examine what
looked like a human (or at least human-ish) arm that had been torn free from something else
and crudely transfigured into something that resembled a large, spiked boomerang, it was
bloody in several spots. "Revelio," she incanted quietly, waving her wand over it. Several
specific spell signatures lit up over the (questionable) arm, only a few of which were ones she
recognized.

Tonks sighed. Things had just gotten a lot harder.

"What are you doing, Auror Tonks?" Shack asked a second later, his large boots crunching in
the snow.

"Er, cataloging evidence, Sir?"

He blinked, his large eyes seemed confused as he looked up at him, "I can see that, Auror.
You're one of the only ones not puking their guts out- go interview witnesses. The rest can
handle this mess once they get control of themselves. After you finish tagging that one, at
least."

"Right, Shack- er, Sir. I'll get right on it. Do we know how many witnesses there- oh,
Merlin."

"Yes," Shacklebolt replied dryly to her gasp of shock, "It seems as if half of Hogsmeade came
to the Village's defense. I'm sure you'll have your work cut out for you, too. Take Wilkins,
Boothe, and Coote with you. I'll send more as they arrive, every third Auror on-scene."

"Yes, Sir," Tonks grinned as she stood up. If she was 'taking them with her', that meant Shack
considered her to be the lead investigator, at least as far as the witness reports went. It could
mean another promotion in the near-ish future, even though she was already well ahead of the
track!

In her excitement, she took a step forward, and tripped over her own piece of evidence, to fall
face-first in the red-streaked snow.

Of course.

Shack at least helped her up with an amused smile showing stark contrast with his white teeth
against dark skin, "Careful there, Tonksy. Don't want Bones thinking you're tampering with
evidence. Get that one done and hurry over, it's gonna be a long day for all of us."

"Sir," Tonks grinned again, uncaring (for once) that about a hundred people had just watched
her fall flat on her face.

Yes, there was a gruesome scene all around her and she had just been in the midst of a
pitched battle with Death Eaters- but things weren't all that bad.

At least they'd clearly won this time!

The Professors arrived in the nick of time. Sixteen Death Eaters, clearly from a separate
group, were casting spells repeatedly at the barrier wards that shimmered from above and
around the castle's low wall and the great, Boar-flanked gates of the school. Worse, the wards
were already flickering, near to falling.

"Miss Lovegood's warning was most timely," Flitwick huffed, red-faced. His tiny little legs
had been forced to work overtime even with several of his more advanced speed-enhancing
charms active on himself, Charity Burbage, and Sinistra Vector. Hagrid, of them all, needed
no such help. Despite his bulk and size, the half-Giant was as quick as ever, and easily kept
pace- in fact, he lead the group down to the gates, and even had a few moments to dash into
his hut on the way, returning to the path with his great crossbow and a quiver full of bolts,
with Fang the Boarhound chasing after, clearly excited.
That had been two minutes ago. Now, Fang was cowering behind the wall as the Death Eaters
jeered and taunted the meager defense of four Professors, one of whom was not even legally
allowed to use magic.

Of course, that did not stop the onslaught of magic cascading against the wards, seeking to
wear down and destroy them.

Even with a tertiary connection to the wards as Head of Ravenclaw, Filius Flitwick could feel
them shake and shudder over the whole area. Breathless or not, his wand came up the
moment he was in range, "Protego Totallum! Bombarda Repulsius! Salvio Hexia! Tenebrum
Pallais!" His spells kept coming, many that even the experienced, middle-aged witches had
never even heard of. Most, outside of the professional dueling circuit, or without Masteries in
Defense Against the Dark Arts, would not. Flitwick himself may have been the Charms
instructor because that was his subject of choice, but only a fool who knew nothing about
him thought the part-Goblin could not fight with the best of them. Even Charity, bless her
muggle-adoring heart, was an accomplished spellcaster, and all of the professors could at
least hold their own.

Even Sybil Trelawney, if it came to it. Filius himself had certified that one, at Dumbledore's
request, a decade ago.

Yes, there were a great many Death Eaters outside the gates.

Yes, they were just four Professors, only three of whom were skilled casters.

But one would have to be an utter fool to disregard Hagrid's skill with his own weapon, or
the tenacity and rugged hardiness passed on from his mother, or the kind heart determined to
do whatever it took to protect the students in his care. To protect his very home.

Not to mention the wards themselves, "Only an idiot would assault Hogwarts while there is
even one Professor left to defend it," Flitwick warned the Death Eaters as he stepped forward,
past even Hagrid. His litany of spells had brought renewed life to most of the local wards,
though there were a few even he did not know enough about to repair at the moment, "Only a
true fool would stand at our gates and expect entry using violence, fear, and intimidation. Did
we teach you nothing while you walked these halls as students? Nothing at all?"

A smart man might have noticed that, despite his small stature, age, and the weight of
numbers against the Professors, none of the four looked particularly frightened, and Flitwick
least of all. Vector and Burbage both had steely expressions, and Hagrid was fuming,
bristling with barely-controlled fury at the thought someone would try and hurt the people of
Hogwarts.

But the Charms Professor, uniformly regarded as among- if not the- kindest, most well-liked
Professor of the entire staff- seemed utterly unconcerned, completely unmoved that there
were four to one odds arrayed against them. He wasn't even using Albus Dumbledore's
frequent tactic of pleasant conversation to disarm hostilities.

No, Filius Flitwick would have none of that, not this day. On this day, his home had been
attacked, and precious students had possibly been killed or injured.
On this day, his ancestry demanded satisfaction.

On this day, Death Eaters would pay that price in their own blood.

There would be no surrender. The group in front of him were already dead, they simply did
not know it yet. So he spoke to them as one might speak to a gravestone over a mouldering
corpse: As if they were objects, a thing in the past, beneath the real and lasting attention of
the present, "Only the most deluded would think that any of you will walk away from here, or
somehow emerge victorious. You have one chance, and one chance only. Lay down your
wands, to a man. Lay down your wands, surrender, and I will consider taking you alive."

His Goblin blood hated the very idea, but he was more human than not. Furthermore, while
he honored his grandfather's heritage, Filius Flitwick considered himself a human, and thus
part of their society. He would, because of that, give them this one chance. If they were too
stupid to take it, well... so much the better. They had already proven just how moronic
someone could be, by laughing as they attacked his school.

"Yeah, and what're you lot gonna do about it, eh?" one scruffy-looking man in his forties
asked, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his hard jaw, "I remember you right enough, you
little soft man. I know you all too well- you got nothin'. Some pretty spells slowin' us down,
but it won' last. They never do, once the Dark Lord's followers come t'call."

"I am afraid you are mistaken there," Sinistra growled, her voice sounding strangely catty, as
if she too was filled with nothing but derision for the group arrayed against them, "Go on,
then. Try it. See what happens if you attack the wards again. You will have made your choice,
and we will show you the same mercy you would show us."

"None at all," Hagrid grunted, his crossbow lifting. There was a bolt inside it as long as
Flitwick's whole body already. A surreptitious wave of his wand and his own advanced skills
in silent casting layered several spells over the crossbow itself, and another charm for
piercing power and added inertia to the loaded bolt.

Let Hagrid have the first shot, he would make it count.

Charity and Sinistra could follow up afterward, if there were any left from his own counter-
attack.

"Go on then, lads, show these old farts what real wizards can do!"

Flitwick nodded as he finished speaking, his wand as steady as it had ever been as it found
the speaker's heart, then aimed toward the person on his right. Hagrid would want that
braggart, and was welcome to him.

The first spell of the renewed attack came.

Even at the speed of magic itself, the light from the slow-moving Cannonade Hex was half-
way to the wards when Hagrid's thick finger released the bolt.
Like lightning, it streaked and shrieked, as it tore through the air with a typhoon following in
its wake. Four Death Eaters were pierced by the single bolt, one through the neck, the
braggart, the woman behind him through the forehead, and the shoulder and left arm of the
two behind her as it bounced off the scapula of the third. The winds that followed, twisting
and howling, bowled over four more, and suddenly there were only eight standing. The ones
the wind had struck weren't out of the fight, but it would take them a moment to recover. That
was more than he needed.

Filius Flitwick grinned, "Piertotum Locomotor."

The two great, stone boars on their plinths to each side of the gates suddenly flexed and
reared, the bristle-like hairs on the backs of their necks standing tall as the smooth marble
gained color and definition no sculptor could ever match, "Sick 'em, boys."

Luna Lovegood meandered out one of the doors at the back of the Great Hall, behind the
High Table where the Professors and staff of Hogwarts sat for meals. Pansy had already been
sent with a House-Elf escort to the Hospital Wing, to assist Madame Pomfrey with the
wounded that were starting to come in from Hogsmeade Village, while Daphne and Tracey
were helping the Professors organize the sudden flood of information that had come in from
the Prefects, Head Boy, and Head Girl. Almost all of the students were accounted for,
thankfully.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lyra, and Professor Black were the only ones she knew of that were
missing.

Missing, of course, being a relative term, the girl mused as she let the door close softly
behind her and started crossing the small chamber where Harry Potter had once been asked
several pointed questions about how, precisely, his name had entered the Goblet of Fire two
and a half years earlier.

"That was a fun year," Luna pronounced to herself, "It would have been more fun if I had my
friends then, I think, but at least I met Alra that year, and Ginny was talking to me again."

After she had made her way across the room and to the other entrance, which in turn lead to a
smaller passage between the staff meeting rooms, a couple of supply closets, and the stairway
that would eventually terminate behind a portrait across the hall from Headmaster
Dumbledore's office, Luna started skipping along at a brisk pace. Her destination was none of
those rooms, but another side passage she would access from the third floor. Her skipping
was not designed to be enjoyable, but merely a way to keep herself distracted from the
renewed fear that had taken hold of her in the last two minutes.

Something was about to go dreadfully wrong.

She believed in her friends, in Harry most of all, so she could not imagine how it might be
him. No matter what foe he faced, Luna believed Harry would win out in the end.

She believed in the Professors, so the group Professor McGonagall had sent to hold the gates
would do so, and reinforcements to Hogsmeade would follow once that was secure.
She had faith that her other friends, who included a couple of Prefects now, would keep their
Houses safe. She did not necessarily trust all of the four Houses' Prefects to keep their
cohorts safe, but that was perhaps a sign of her past rearing an ugly, trauma-filled head. That
was a different life now, though, Luna reminded herself.

Hopefully, one lost, estranged student would not be kept out of their House's common rooms
during a crisis like this. Not again, anyway.

That was not why Luna was wandering the lesser-used passages of the school during said
crisis, however. Of course, if she saw such a student she would do her best to see them to
safety, but that was not why she was walking around.

No, her feeling of dread was from something more amorphous.

There was more to the attack than even she had been able to predict thus far.

Something strange.

One attack had gone after Harry in particular- she suspected that was where Sirius Black aka
Stubby Boardman, Harry himself were at. Harry, after all, was not one to run from a fight.
Not anymore.

One had been at Hogsmeade, she was sure, and one at the Gates of Hogwarts.

Three was a powerful magical number, yes, and she could see Voldemort and his flunkies
(she found the term 'followers' far too generous from the rank and file Death Eaters) using
such a subtle message. But there was something still niggling at her.

Something close.

She saw it a moment too late, opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, forever
attempting (and failing) to teach several Trolls how to tap-dance.

A gray figure, womanlike, carrying a silvery crown in one hand, with a triumphant grin on
her blood-stained lips.

That silver crown called to her. It was so achingly familiar, yet it still took precious seconds
for her to identify the item itself. Luna did so, hands outstretched in desperate, profound
need, as if her ancestry itself was begging her to get it back. Unfortunately, she figured out
precisely what item that was, recognized it by its shape as much as anything else, at the
precise moment shadows and pink mist started to swirl around the vampire.

The tiara was the lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. She had seen it every day, every school
day at least, for nearly five full years on the great statue of their House's Founder in the
Ravenclaw common room.

And it was in the hands of a vampire.

It had been here the whole time, and then, with a flash of darkness and mist, it was gone.
Luna's eyes filled with tears as her soul wept.

Beside her, a gray, misty form appeared from the floor, no doubt called by the same
beckoning, longing yearning that had called to Luna herself.

The Gray Lady, Helena Ravenclaw, had been one of Luna's first friends in Hogwarts. Now,
she was weeping along side the young witch even while her form faded from the world,
"Goodbye, Luna," the ghost almost hiccupped properly, as her sad, sad eyes grew ever more
translucent and see-through.

The bindings holding her to the world were gone at last, yet all Helena Ravenclaw could do
was mourn the loss of it, of her mother's greatest work, of the last remnants of her own ill-
gotten, childish greed, and all the evil it had wrought.

Some distance down the hall, another of Hogwarts' ghosts was fading too, silently weeping in
the shadows. Without Helena there, the Bloody Baron had no reason to linger either. His love
may never be requited, he had long since grown accustomed to that sorrowful idea. But now,
there was nothing left to wait for anyway. So he, too, began to fade as he wept.

When solar fire ignited a particular chamber in a manor house in Wiltshire, only one direct
descendant of the Ravenclaw line was left in Hogwarts, still silently weeping.
 Sunlight

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

Trigger Warnings: Character Death. Nothing you haven't seen before (even someone who
dies in canon). But it might hit hard. There's other death too... but bad guys mostly.

Chap. 85: Sunlight

The snow, though it seemed to be leaving as suddenly as it came, still blew in tiny, mirror-
like crystals around Hogsmeade when Auror Tonks closed her dictation scroll and turned off
the enchantment on the quill. She had been questioning witnesses to the Death Eater's brutal
attack one after another, and the stories, by and large, seemed to match up.

That would be for the Forensic Team at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to
decide for sure, of course, but Tonks herself considered the reports fairly reliable. Yes, it was
true that people tended to exaggerate or misremember small details. The size of an opponent,
the color of a person's jacket, or the numbers on a muggle automobile's license plate. Even,
sometimes, the number of aggressors at all, or their gender.

Adrenaline did strange things to people, she knew that. Still, when the forty-six witches and
wizards that she personally had interviewed, another forty or more that her team had, and the
Aurors who had been involved in the fray, herself included, added their own testimony into
the mix and it all seemed to match up?

That was pretty damning.

This would not, she hoped, be like the Quidditch World Cup two years previously. That had
been an embarrassment for the entire Ministry, and the DMLE especially. Every one of those
Death Eaters had walked free. Four of the seven had been captured, and they walked free.

"Until today," Tonks reminded herself, "They walked free until today."

It turned out that many of the attackers had had their masks blown apart, or removed, or
vanished, or disintegrated, or some combination thereof, exposing their faces during the
conflict. At least three of them were faces she knew, known blood supremacists and Death
Eaters. Four had been present and involved at the World Cup, either in the actual levitation of
the poor muggle family that night, or in the crowd that had followed along, jeering and
laughing.

At the time, Tonks had still been in training. And, mostly due to her mother's encouragement,
had almost dropped out of the course in her final year because of it. Her father, a muggleborn
solicitor who understood the need for good men and women to protect the rest of the
populace, was the one to convince her to stay in the program.

Today almost convinced Tonks that her mother was right. But there were still several dead
Death Eaters now. More captured. And this time, with an ex-Auror as the Minister of Magic,
it seemed far less likely that any of them would be getting free again. The deceased certainly
wouldn't. So as bloody and horrible as the day had been, Nymphadora Tonks had to take a
deep breath and remind herself: It was worth it.

Because the Aurors were there, and because (in no small part) Harry Potter had been known
to publicly say he would not allow such a travesty again after the attack on King's Cross-
because he, and the other students with him, had actively fought Death Eaters, and even
Giants...

The people of Hogsmeade had stood up, and fought too. They had largely not cowered in
their homes, waiting for the Death Eaters to come for them, or the Aurors to save their
families.

Maybe it had been the two murdered lovers at Christmas. Maybe it was the missing students
this year- a record high, for Hogwarts, and there were still a couple of months left in the term.

But either way, it seemed the people of the wizarding world had finally had enough. And
Tonks had to be grateful. They, the Aurors, could probably have defeated the existing Death
Eaters that were taking part in the raid. They had been prepared for it, after all, thanks to
Director Bones' timely tip-off from her mysterious informant.

There were six victims. Three women who had been raped, and one man. Three dead,
including one of the women. But they had killed or captured twice that number and then
some, and Tonks was reasonably sure none of them would ever have the opportunity to do
this sort of damage again.

She thanked her last witness, told the spritely old woman thanks for the assistance and the
help, and turned to trudge back through the already-melting snow back toward Kingsley
Shacklebolt.

"Thank you," the old witch said, "We'd'ave been in hard straights wi'out ye."

"Thanks to you," Tonks chuckled weakly, and rubbed the bank of her currently midnight-
blue, short-cropped hair, "I feel like we'd have had a really hard time without you all coming
to help."

"Can' do less'n the young'ns, can we?" the old witch cackled, "Not up to'em t'save us.
Leastaways, it sholdn' be."
"Damned straight," Tonks agreed wholeheartedly, "Anyway, I best be reporting to the boss.
Thanks again, Ma'am."

The woman grinned widely, showing off a distinct lack of teeth, then turned to shuffle her
way through the snow herself.

Tonks and the two other Junior Aurors that she'd had accompany her under Kingsley's
instructions had pulled the witnesses a score of yards away from the carnage, if only to give
them a bit of separation from the mess while the investigators went through it, so she had a
bit of a walk.

Of course, the tall, dark-skinned Auror was on the far side, but at least warming and drying
charms in her boots kept that from being a problem. The weather was improving nicely too,
now that the snow had stopped.

As she walked, snippets of what the witnesses said played over and over again in her mind,
their words now inscribed on her (supposedly) indestructible recording scroll, "I heard what
Harry Potter done down't London on Yule. Against Giants! Fekkin' Death Eater scum, too,
and a dragon? I don' care what he's got some harlot-demon. That kid's aright in my book.
Saved so many!"

That refrain, and those like it, had been a frequent litany. She knew Harry, of course, and
knew the kind of teenage boy he was. Knew, and had actively flirted with him over the
summer both of the previous two years she'd known him. It was just so much fun! Now that
he was approaching his majority, though, she could see why so many people fancied him.

Not the myth of who he was supposed to be, but who Harry actually was. Even Tonks herself
could admit, to herself, a bit of a crush on the young wizard, who was both wiser and more
mature than his years suggested... and devilishly handsome, in a roguish way.

Sure, he had a Succubus. The whole Order knew that, and now most of the wizarding world
knew too, because it had been in the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler both for several days
after the battle at King's Cross. People wanted to know, of course, why such a hero would
summon and bind such a 'dark' creature, even while an article right next to it praised the
young man for his heroism, especially after the Wizarding World had turned against him so
strongly the previous year.

Honestly, Tonks was surprised they'd even allowed that into the paper, but she supposed
anything Scrimgeour could do to paint the previous administration in a bad light, he would.
Fucking Politics.

To Tonks, a Metamorph herself, she could easily see the appeal that a shapeshifting,
otherworldly creature that thrived on sex, passion, and emotions of all sorts would have for a
young man. But she also had met Lilith herself, and thought her to be an intelligent,
observant (and also fairly wise) woman herself. She had clearly taught Harry a lot, and
deliberately, about how to be both a good man, and a good leader.

So she didn't care if Harry had a Succubus, it was clearly a mutually beneficial arrangement
from the start, for him to inspire such loyalty in her.
But then, Madame Bones had publicly informed people, in an editorial piece she'd penned
herself for the next day, that her brother, who had also been an Auror, had summoned a
Succubus himself, and she had been, for a while, a prized member of her brother's family.

That had opened a lot of eyes, and Harry, she was sure, was quite grateful to her boss for
taking a lot of the heat off him. It wasn't like Bones had needed to do so, it hadn't served her
at all. She'd just done it, Tonks was sure, to help Harry himself.
And in doing so, Bones had probably secured Harry's loyalty in turn. Which, she supposed,
could only be a good thing as Amelia Bones was widely considered to be one of 'the good
ones' in the Ministry.

"Dead Wankers, or whatever they call 'emselves, in Hogsmeade? No way! Can't 'ave it, won't
'ave it," another man had said, "An' attackin' t'school an' all? No way! Had t'fight 'em, we did.
No choice, or t'kids would'a been in more danger'n any reasonable folk should b'comfortable
w'it."

Aside from the thick Highland accents many of the Hogsmeade citizens spoke with, Tonks,
who had been raised to value life and especially young life as the only child of parents who
had difficulty conceiving even her, found the sentiment quite apt.

There really was no choice. Everyone, everyone, needed to fight for their future, and the
future of their children, or tyranny would run rampant. It was why she had become an Auror
in the first place, to do her part.

The idea of certain dark wizards 'wanking' the 'bones' of Death, well... that was a more
private thought that Tonks savored as she reached about the half-way point of her trek. An
amusing image, if nothing else, to be a buffer against the darker thoughts that would
otherwise run free in her mind.

"I'd sooner let my sheep kill me than some soddin' Death Eater," a young herder had laughed,
while one of the Healers St. Mungo's had sent to patch up the wounded wrapped a poultice
around his jaw, itself looking to have been beaten in by either a curse or repeated, strong fists,
"Fuckers done tried it, mind, but I'm still here, ain't I? They aren't, an' that's what matters.
Won't be hurtin' no more folk, I reckon. Leave us good folk in piece t'live our own damned
lives."

That, too, was a sentiment Tonks agreed with wholeheartedly.

With any luck, she would be put back on tagging and identifying the last bits of remains that,
thankfully, the rest of the team had largely finished. The night was coming on, but at least, for
now, a last dazzle of sunlight seemed to warm the day, taking with it even more of the snow.

Summer was definitely coming, at least, after a long, dark winter.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly, "No, we can't go help! Believe me, Colin, I want to as much
as anyone- that's my boyfriend- both of them- out there! But we can't! We were specifically
ordered by McGonagall to stay here. And it's my job as Prefect- all of our jobs- to keep the
rest of you safe, so you can't go out either!"
"But Hermione," the fifth-year cried out, "Our friends in the other Houses! I know there were
a bunch of Ravenclaws in the Library, and they'd have to go through the same place Ron said
he was headed for, the girl's loo on the second floor!"

"I know," Hermione shouted right back, "You think I don't know my way around the school
by now? Ron may have gotten it in his head he can help, somehow, and I'm sure I could too,
somehow, but someone has to keep you all safe! Do you think Harry would want everyone
else in danger?"

"Then what are we studyin' for?" one of the fourth-years, who had just joined the D.A. this
year, shouted back, "Are we learnin' for nothin', or are we learnin' to fight?"

"We are running the D.A. to help you defend yourselves," Hermione growled back loudly,
"not to help you get slaughtered, or to run into an unknown situation and get yourselves hurt
or killed!"

"Like we did last year?" Lavender asked quietly, from behind Hermione on the right.

"That was different," Hermione replied coolly, "Harry was in danger, and we-"

"Harry is in danger now," Lavender reminded her, the blonde's blue eyes brilliant as she
looked into Hermione's, "and we aren't rushing off. But-" she cut off Hermione's no-doubt
scathing retort, "she's right. We can't go, we can't help. Not right now. The best thing we can
do is follow McGonagall's orders."

"But-!" Colin tried again.

"No buts," Parvati shouted him down, nearly screeching as she stepped up behind Hermione
too, and both witches put a hand on her shoulders, "There are no buts here!" Then, in a
calmer voice, though her bronze jaw was clenched with barely-restrained emotions, "Harry
trusts us to do what's needed to stay alive. Hermione is right, most of us are doing alright in
Defense now, thanks to the D.A., but I, for one, am not comfortable rushing into a possible
Death Eater attack without some preparation. At the very least."

"We should gather information, then," Lavender added, "Anyone who knows anything,
something concrete, not just rumors, raise your hand."

Four hands shot up. Hermione, with both of her roommate's hands on her shoulders providing
a calming, reassuring presence, stayed silent. Without knowing it, without speaking about it,
Lavender, her boyfriend's Slave, had stepped into the role of supporting her, and helped her
regain some semblance of calm. Just like she would for Harry. Parvati was a bit of a surprise,
as aside from watching her and her twin give Lavender a rather erotic massage just hours-
was it only hours? It seemed like a month or more- ago, they were barely even friends. But
her hand flickered- no, it positively glowed with the same soft, green light she and her sister
emitted during the massage as she, too, supported Hermione.

Then they started fielding questions, and Hermione's racing mind gradually slowed from a
frantic, over-emotional wreck to something more akin to her usual streamlined, but still very
rapid thought process.
Nott, it had to be Nott. Malfoy had been gone too long, and both Harry and Lilith had assured
them that the Vanishing Cabinet was not a viable route into the school. Further, that any
Death Eaters who tried were in for a possibly lethal surprise. But Nott had not been found
since he went missing along with Vicky Frobisher, "No," Hermione exhaled, "It can't be... but
it is. It's definitely Nott."

How could she not have seen it?

No, she had seen it, what she had just not known was what she was seeing. Right there, on
the very steps of the castle where Vicky's body had been smeared over the Yule break. Nott's
magical signature, which still lingered in faint traces there. He had been the one, but she had
not put it together. She had now known, really, until that exact moment that she could see the
magical auras of people in her own memories. Of things in her memories.

Like a certain Tiara, which echoed with the same magic that was contained in Harry's scar.

"That's what they're after," Hermione whispered once more as the planning to send a scouting
expedition- or to report to the teachers through the portraits, which seemed safer to
Hermione, was planned, "That Tiara is one of Voldemort's Horcruxes."

"Professor!" Harry shouted, as next to him, the aged body of Albus Dumbledore collapsed,
the magical prosthetic leg clattering to the ground beside him.

Sirius was there a moment later, and Ron's carapace-covered body slid to his knees at Harry's
side right after, with Ginny levitating Lilith at a quick jog right behind. The Succubus was
still unconscious, but Harry felt their Bond grow ever so slightly stronger with proximity.
Almost unconsciously, even with his wand and a free hand performing the only checks he
knew to do for first aid even though Sirius was sure to know more and was doing the same
thing, his foot slid toward her body when Ginny set her down and took her own place at
Dumbledore's head, cradling it, "He's so cold," the girl whispered.

"Harry," Dumbledore groaned, his body shifting just slightly, before his gnarled, white and
freezing hand jerked out and grabbed hold of Harry's with surprising, but trembling strength,
"Harry..."

"Yes, Sir? I'm here." His heart was hammering worse now than it was during the actual fight.
It couldn't be, not like this, not... not after he'd won.

But Harry knew.

Knew from the bottom of his heart that this was it. Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore, was
about to die. And there was nothing any of them could really do.

As if to underscore that, Fawkes appeared directly on the Headmaster's chest, already

weeping copious amounts of tears onto Dumbledore's beard and half-bared arm.

It had no effect that he could see, and that was all the proof Harry needed for the last bit of
hope in him to die.
"I'm here," he repeated, then twice more, "What- what happened, Sir? How can I help?"

"No... help. Used too much... magic. Too many Portkeys. Into- into the sun. Killed... a
student. I... failed."

"You didn't fail, Sir," Ron murmured hoarsely, "You saved hundreds more."

"Th... Thank you, Mr.- Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore forced out, a wane smile flickering over
the ashen face, "Harry... Office... desk. Left... top dr- drawer. J- Journal. Ho... Horcrux...es..."

"I understand, Professor. I'll get them. I promise. I'll get him- I'll end it."

"We all will," Ginny whispered.

"I know," Dumbledore smiled, somehow, though his eyes were already glassy.

Sirius' wand fell still, and without looking, Harry could tell he was crying now, too.

"Harry... I believe.. in y... oooh..."

Harry's heart broke. He could only imagine the reaction if the Daily Prophet ever heard
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore's last words.

In another flash of flame, Fawkes was gone. In his place, a single tail-feather, scarlet, orange,
and blue at the tip, drifted slowly down onto the old wizard's beard.

All Harry could do was join Sirius, join Ginny, and Ron in silent tears.

Albus Dumbledore was gone.

Severus Snape screamed in rage and agony as he looked at the stump of his left arm. The fire
had been so fierce that it had cauterized the limb just above the elbow. So intense that, even
for a brief moment, it had ignited and nearly vaporized a full quarter of his old friend and
patron, Lucius Malfoy's, manor home. Much of the rest was still burning.

At least he could still see. A great number of the Death Eaters in the upper floors, the ground
floor and up, really, had gone blind, possibly permanently, and all in an instant.

Whatever had happened, it was going to be a crippling blow against Voldemort and his
movement.

Which really meant that only one person could be behind it. It could have been Harry Potter
and his extra-planar whore, he supposed... but probably not.

No, this was the work of Dumbledore. He was the only person Snape could think of with the
sheer magical power to do... whatever that was. It was as if the very fires of hell, but far
worse than any Fiendfyre even Voldemort could conjure, had appeared in one of the rooms of
Malfoy Manor, and then been snuffed out just as quickly.
Which meant either his savior and tormentor had finally decided to take the war seriously,
or... or something had gone very, very wrong.

Either way, he had work to do. Since being removed from the school, he had been at
Voldemort's side near-constantly, and one of the very few Death Eaters who had refused the
more... obscene rewards offered of late.

Frankly, Severus Snape could have used the relief, but he had only ever wanted to be with
just one person. The fact that he had been forced by that creature into shagging Dolores
Umbridge of all people... No, he had no interest in sex. Not anymore.

Probably not ever.

For now, that was alright. He would be needed at Voldemort's side, to help rebuild his forces,
heal the wounded survivors. Perhaps, if possible, restore sight to those whose eyes had been
burned away or severely damaged. He counted himself lucky that he, like the Dark Lord, had
been deep under the manor and thus shielded from the worst of the catastrophic attack.

Once that was done, then maybe, maybe he would think about planning a bit of revenge on
the Potter brat. He already had some idea how to do it. He just had to find the time, and
uncover the spells needed.

And he had plenty of both. His own Horcrux, after all, was still safely secured in a location
no one else had ever found or would think to look. It was not hidden in any place like
Voldemort had hidden his own. And how foolish, to even have more than one! Snape did not
want to live forever. He wanted to die, in fact, every single day.

The only reason he lived, and he knew many Gryffindors would crow with laughter to learn
the truth of this, was for spite. Spite at Voldemort, for killing his one true love. Spite at
Dumbledore, for using him for so long. Spite at Harry Potter, for being his bastard father's
child. Spite at Sirius Black, at every student he had ever taught. Spite at the world.

No, he was not ready to die. Could not afford to die, not yet. When he was good and ready, he
would probably destroy his own Horcrux, after his enemies were dead and gone. What use,
then, would he have for living anyway? A bit of Fiendfyre, cast around the Horcrux and then
allowing it to run rampant, perhaps in the Gryffindor Dormitories, while he himself stood
within, until his body died and the magic feeding the flames died with him.

Yes, that sounded like a decent and suitably macabre way to go, when it was time.

But he wasn't ready, not yet. Voldemort had to go. Dumbledore had to go. Potter, too. And
maybe, just maybe, every idiot student still at the Castle.
 A Quiet Breath

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.
 Chap. 86: A Quiet Breath
Hermione Granger split off from the Gryffindors that were being led by the Prefects down to
the Great Hall. Thanks to her discussion with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, the latter of
whom had taken her side in urging the students of Gryffindor to not follow their instincts, and
listen to what their teachers were instructing them to do for once, she had not only deduced
what the goal of the attack was, but she now knew where to look for it too. She just needed a
quiet moment.

Knowing that the other two girls who shared her dormitory had her back in such a way was...
relieving. Lavender, she might have expected, the blonde was one of Harry's regular lovers,
and a true Submissive that enjoyed other people telling her what to do, especially in the
bedroom, but due to the dynamics in the group it wasn't a hard stretch to imagine Lavender
yielding to Hermione too, who was very much seen (she thought) as 'second in command'.
Parvati on the other hand? Well, she was a bit more of a shock. It wasn't that they didn't like
each other, it was just that, like Lavender, they had little in common aside from being witches
in Gryffindor and being of an age together.

Maybe it was the massage session Hermione had watched, what seemed like a lifetime ago
but was really only... what, not even an hour?

Parvati and her twin Padma, who was a girl Hermione got along famously with thanks to the
Ravenclaw being much more of a studious type, had given Lavender Brown a full-body
massage that had ended in an orgasm. A nice, pleasurable, low-key experience for the four of
them, since Hermione restrained herself to watching, just before the proverbial dragon-shite
had been flung into the hurricane.

Even if Hermione hadn't directly participated, it was still a bonding experience more potent
than the night the girls had shared a few months back, when Hermione and Lavender had
gotten each other off while Parvati masturbated herself.

Those thoughts faded into the background of Hermione's mind as she neared her destination.
There, on the seventh floor, opposite the secret door to the Room of Requirement, was a
certain absurd Tapestry. Only the door was most certainly not hidden, and the absurdity was
lost in the face of one of her friends crumpled on the floor before it.

Not prone, but on her knees, with her head of tousled, sandy-blonde hair completely draped
over what she was sure was an expression of misery. Even from fifty or so feet away,
Hermione knew she was alive. Alive, yes, but crying. Luna's shoulders shook every few
seconds, and the muffled sounds of her sadness carried through the strangely quiet halls as if
carried on ghostly wings.

Hermione had always been one who tried to look out for the victims of bullies, having been
their target often enough herself. And being a woman of strong conviction and a need to help
others had been what led her to Gryffindor in the first place. As her mother had replied after
Hermione explained what the Houses were like and where she had been placed, "It says a lot
about you, my girl, that even with all your brains you went to the House of the noble and
brave."

It was something that had hit Hermione hard, not in the least because she had received that
letter on the very morning Ron had sent her to the bathroom in tears for being a bossy little
know-it-all on Halloween of her first year.

Oh, how things had changed from her youth!

Hermione, and all of their cotierre, as Lilith called it, knew Luna had been a victim of
bullying. Some of them, like Ron, still occasionally called her Loony, though they said it with
affection. Hermione, on the other hand, had never called her that, never even come close.
Even though she frequently argued with the younger witch about what was real and what was
not, she had respect for the girl's insight and their shared trauma. Now, knowing that there
was a high possibility that Luna did, in fact, know about creatures no one else seemed to
thanks to Lilith's correction on the pronunciation of two of them, well...

She did not need that confirmation to know that, arguments or not, Luna was her friend and
worth listening to. She had been Hermione's friend since she became Harry's, and that was
more than enough for her to like someone. Anyone Harry was fond of was a person worth
being friends with, in her opinion. Her heart was already pounding with dread at not knowing,
Hermione could only spare so much for the younger girl. She didn't know where Harry, Ron,
Lilith, or Ginny were. She didn't know where many of her friends and lovers were, in fact.
She didn't know who was attacking the school, or really why. All she had were suspicions
and a sinking feeling based on magic she could not easily explain to anyone not already in
the know about Lilith's Rituals.

But what space in Hermione's heart she could spare seemed to swell and grow as a desperate
need to support and comfort Luna Lovegood rose within her, pressing out on the bounds of
her heart, of her very soul.

Her arms closed around Luna gently, and the blonde seemed not to notice that one of her
friends, one of her far too-few friends, had arrived and was holding her. At least, not at first.
Then Hermione realized Luna had stopped crying, and suddenly too. She was holding her
breath, tense.

As if she were scared.

"It's just me," Hermione murmured, "I'm here, and I've got you. What happened, Luna?"

The Ravenclaw relaxed slowly, enough that Hermione could tell it was happening, but not
completely. Eventually, she sobbed again, just once, "My... my oldest friend at Hogwarts is g-
gone..."

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, horrified, "What happened to Ginny?"

She was a little taken aback when Luna whimpered and shook her head, "No- Not Ginny.
Helena."
No one had ever (accurately) described Hermione Jean Granger of being slow-witted. She
figured out who Helena was quite quickly, based largely on her encyclopedic knowledge of
Hogwarts: A History, "Ravenclaw? Helena Ravenclaw... she was the Grey Lady?"

Luna nodded against her arm, whimpering, "My first friend... at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Hermione replied softly, and her arms tightened around the waifish girl. That simple
statement said so very much. Ginny and Luna had grown up as friends, the only girls their
age in or around Ottery St. Catchpole, but due to the events of their first year with the
Chamber of Secrets, no doubt, that friendship had been strained to the breaking point. The
bullying of anything non-conformist in Ravenclaw, someone whose mind did not meet what
most of the House would consider 'standard' intelligence, was doomed to make things worse.
Untenable.

If Luna, strange as she might be, had to consider a long-dead woman her first friend at the
school, she must have had a harder first year than even Hermione before she had become
friends with Harry and Ron.

"You aren't alone now, though," she reminded Luna, "You have us. I'm sorry for your loss. I
know it's hard to lose a- a friend. But you have us now."

"Do I?" Luna whimpered, "I've lost... more than Helena."

"I know about your mother, too," Hermione reminded her quietly as she shifted positions to
kneel on one knee in front of Luna, but kept the hug continuous, "We all lose those we care
about, that's part... just part of life. We all hate it, but it is part of life. And life... goes on. We
go on, even after we pass. I believe that, Luna. Your mother is out there, and, somewhere, so
is Helena Ravenclaw. Perhaps she's even finally making peace with her mother, after all these
centuries."

Luna was quiet for a long time. Then she gave one last sob and lifted watery, bright blue
eyes, "That's a nice thought. Thank you, Hermione."

"Anytime, Luna. I love you, you know."

"But you argue with me all the time."

"I..." Hermione stopped, and took a very long, slow, deep breath that was released even
slower, "I don't like to admit that I'm wrong. It comes with being right a lot, I suppose. But I
was wrong about you. If Lilith is backing you up about the creatures you say exist, then...
then I have to at least try to believe the rest might be, too. In some fashion. I don't know
everything, after all."

Luna gave a sort of strange, giggling hiccup, and to Hermione's horror, fresh tears began to
well up, "That was one of Helena's favorite sayings. Admitting... Admitting that you don't
know everything is the first real step to true wisdom."

"She probably got that from her mother."

"It sounds like something a Ravenclaw would say," Luna agreed, then lifted her head once
more, now beaming through the salty tears, "Thank you, Hermione. We should check the
Room of Hidden Things. I think I know what the attack was meant to cover."

"The Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw was the Horcrux, then?"

This time, Luna's smile was even brighter, "Oh, you figured it out too, then? Well done,
Hermione."

Unfortunately, as the two friends entered the Room of Requirement's lost and found
configuration, even though Luna kept a tight hold on Hermione's hand, neither could find any
sign of a certain tiara.

"I swear, it was just there," Hermione groaned, gesturing at the bust Luna remembered seeing
it on last, though she had not known that was what it was, "The aura of a Horcrux... now I
know what they look like. I could find one, or at least identify any of them I can see."

"That will help us," Luna declared, "Come, let's go find Harry and the others. Your hug was
nice, but I think I could use more."

Hermione smiled softly as Luna started leading her back into the corridor, "You know what? I
could, too."

The creature once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle starred in abject, absolute, all-consuming
fury at the wreckage of his purloined home... and the pile of followers he had lost, "Someone
will suffer most... dearly for this," he hissed, "Most dearly indeed."

Lucious Malfoy, owner of the home he had until recently resided in, in a great deal of
comfort he may have added if anyone bothered to ask, was almost literally half gone. A full
third of the once-handsome man's body had been scorched away by the devastating attack,
with the rest being covered in horrific burns. Corbin Yaxley was gone from the waist up,
burned away by the same scorching fire. Bellatrix and Severus, two of his most loyal, were
among the only ones without cataclysmic injuries, and even Severus would take some time to
heal. Bella, dear Bella, had proven her worth again. Even mid-coitus, she had sensed
something amiss before he did, and her barrier had kept herself, young Meera Yaxley, and
Bella's sister, Narcissa, unhurt along with himself. But there were so many, two score he
estimated at a glance, gone.

Gone because he had mustered them in one place to prepare to reinforce the other attacks if
needed.

"My Lord," Borgin, the weakling and fool, genuflected, "I bring word."

"Speak," Voldemort hissed. He did not bother telling the man that he had better bring good
news. No idiot, not even Borgin, would think any amount of good news would spare them his
wrath at this time.

"Th- The attack on Hogsmeade, um... was unsuccessful, My lord."

"I am not surprised. Go on."

"My- My Lord? Did- did you expect that attack to fail?"

"Do not question me, Mr. Borgin," Voldemort hissed. He had always hated the man who had
once given him a job, then forced him to pander and kowtow to those who should have
groveled at his feet. True, the employment had served him well, netting him the homes for his
second and third Horcruxes, but he had still hated it, and hated bowing and scraping to this
coward almost as much as he had hated flattering that old descendant of Hufflepuff. Smythe,
or something like that. Smith? No... Smotte? Voldemort shook his head, it did not matter. She
was dead now, and the relics she had purloined with ill-begotten wealth from his ancestors
were his, now.

"My Lord," Borgin murmured after a moment, "My apologies. Yes, it was... a complete
failure. Walden MacNair and... and others were... taken. Killed, or captured. Many brutally.
MacNair was taken by- your creature, the vampire. My Lord."

"He's the one that triggered the wards," Bellatrix, who stood respectfully behind him on his
right hand, where she belonged, hissed, "I felt him coming back, and it was too early."

So insightful. Only Bella would sense a single man coming back too soon, through
protections he himself had given her control of as a mark of respect for her devotion, skill,
and power, and assume something was wrong. Most of the other fools he called 'friends' were
barely capable of stringing two words together, much less sensing an obvious trap.

"Indeed. Go on."

"The... the Aurors were there too soon, and in greater force, than we anticipated. And- and
the people of Hogsmeade fought too, My Lord. Many of them."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed, "The sheep have learned to fight back, have they? No matter,
they will learn better soon enough. Continue."

"Tha- that's all, My Lord."

The eyes narrowed further, "Who returned?"

Borgin began to quiver and tremble, "N- No one, My Lord."

"No one."

"N- No, My Lord."

"No one. Not one, out of twenty-seven of my loyal Death Eaters, escaped?"

"N- No... My Lord. It's... it's worse. The t- team that went to the Forest? They're gone, too.
Something... got 'em. A plant, perhaps. Five dead- eaten."

"That... is unexpected, and unwelcome news. Some new threat grows in the Forbidden
Forest, it seems. Perhaps we will make use of it when the Castle is ours. Thirty-two dead,
then. What of the Castle?"

"I've... I've received no word, My Lord."

"I wasn't talking to you, fool," Voldemort spat down at his former employer, then looked back
at Snape, "What have the Slytherins been telling you?"

"Not much, My Lord," Snape murmured almost as quietly as Voldemort's own furious hiss,
"Nott did assault the school, and apparently drew the attention of both Potter and
Dumbledore, as well as that idiot Black. But they dared not stay when Nott began fighting
them."

"Of course. If the attack began as it was timed, then.. where is Kalakay?"

"Wait..." Bellatrix said with a scowl, interrupting in a rare moment of clarity, "My Lord, she
crossed the wards with MacNair. There was a Dark creature with him, it must have been her."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed once more to the most furious of slits.

Had she failed him, too? Had they all? Had she retreated without succeeding, despite all the
work and preparation he had put into the multiple diversions, the protections against her
being swayed by the enchanted rope he himself had fashioned painstakingly, and the
transformation of the idiot Nott boy, too?

Just then, one of the few injured Death Eaters still on their feet bent down to pick up
something from the rubble of the most-damaged section of Hogwarts Manor, which was still
smoking. Voldemort recognized the scorched, blackened, twisted thing immediately.

Once, it was a finely-wrought tiara of goblin silver, inlaid with bronze filigree and sapphires.
It had been the symbol of one of Hogwarts' greatest witches.

It had once housed a fraction of Lord Voldemort's soul.

Now, it was a piece of garbage.

Even Goblin metals could not stand up to... whatever that white-hot, searing light had been.

Blood ran cold in Voldemort's veins as he flicked his Yew and Phoenix feather wand to
wordlessly summon the tiara. Once it slapped into his pale, cold hand, Voldemort knew once
more an emotion he was all too familiar with: the cold grasp of fear.

"Bella... we must talk. Privately. I have a mission for you. I need you to retrieve something I
gave to you for safekeeping some time ago... a certain Cup."

"Say no more, My Lord," Bellatrix, dear Bella, smiled rapturously, overjoyed as always to be
of service, "How will we do it, My Lord?"

Yes, they definitely needed a private conversation... Perhaps Narcissa and the Yaxley
cocksleeve would do to warm his nethers while he and Bella discussed the details.
After that, after his precious soul-shard was safe, he would have to check on the rest. Then...
then it would be time to plan his revenge for this devastating blow.

Yes, he had much to do, it seemed.

"Severus, see to the cleanup. See if you can figure out what caused the damage, as well. What
spell or potion did... this."

"My Lord," Snape murmured respectfully, his face as emotionless as it always was.

Voldemort nodded as he turned to walk away.

On the ground, Mr. Arcturus Borgin considered himself lucky that the Dark Lord had
apparently forgotten all about him. He didn't much like getting hit with the Cruciatus Curse,
after all.

"Merlin be Mighty," Flitwick whispered as he saw the line of injured coming on carriage,
wagon, horseback, or even foot, despite damage to their lower bodies, up the road from
Hogsmeade. He knew it would have been bad, and wished they could have spared more to
help. But for now, he could do something, even though he hadn't yet gotten the all-clear that
danger had passed, "Clancy," he directed to the invisible House-Elf without looking its way,
"We're going to need more Elves to transport the wounded. If you can take them from where
they are down the road directly to the hall outside the infirmary, I will send Pomona and
Septima to assist with triage. When you've gotten more elves on the way, and passed on my
instructions, I would like you to go to Acting Headmistress McGonagall and inform her that
Hagrid and I will stay to watch the gate, but that I'm sending Charity to direct the injured
down there."

"Yes, Professor Fleet-wick," the diminutive creature squeaked, "Clancy will do it." Then he
was gone.

This was so much worse than he had feared, and the bodies of the Death Eaters outside the
gates would surely only further traumatize the victims of what had probably already been a
violent attack. Better if the Elves could bring them straight inside the castle. In the
meantime...

"Hagrid, my friend, I'm afraid we have some gruesome work to do. Please bring the bodies
inside the wall. Set them just there. I'm no Minerva, but I'm sure I'll be able to Transfigure
them into something more suitable and enduring for later investigation."

"Right, Professor," the half-giant nodded, sounding completely unbothered by the fact that
he'd just been asked to manhandle several mutilated, half-destroyed corpses.

Filius himself felt no care about it. They had made their choice when they agreed to assault a
school full of children. The only reason he wasn't helping Hagrid move them was sheer, cold,
practicality: He could watch the half-Giant's back with his wand easier than Hagrid could
watch his with his crossbow, and the Giant would be able to move bodies without limiting his
own firepower too much, just in case there was a follow-up attack.
He wouldn't put it past Voldemort or the Death Eaters. They had tried such despicable tactics
before, after all, "Charity, while you're down there," he directed to the Muggle Studies
Professor, "I need you to watch out for traps, or another ambush. I see Auror robes in the
crowd directing them, but just in case. Be careful."

"Right you are, Filius," the kind middle-aged woman said, then stood tall and pushed her
shoulders back, adopting the 'stiff upper lip' the Muggles seemed to enjoy so much, before
she gave him the nod.

With a flick of his wand, the extra enchantments and locking spells on the gate responded to
his authority as tertiary Headmaster, and they swung open. He would be ready to close them
with a moment's notice once more, but he sincerely hoped that, for now at least, the fighting
was over.

He did not enjoy the violence, even if he understood its necessity in this case. Either way, he
was sure this long day was only going to get longer as the Aurors continued to escort
wounded up to the castle.

No doubt St. Mungo's was already overflowing.

"I've got her, Harry," Ron grunted as he reached for the unconscious body of Lilith, who was
still in her battle form, "I know you're plenty strong enough, but she's awfully long for you
like this."

As much as Harry wanted, even needed, to be in contact with his Succubus right then, he
forced himself to take a calming breath, and nod, "Thanks, Ron."

Ginny's hand on his left arm was a calming presence, too, as his best mate scooped up the
Succubus from where Ginny had set her down, "I'll get Dumbledore," Sirius murmured, and
patted Harry's other arm briefly before lifting the old man's body with his wand.

Harry, then, suddenly found himself in the middle of a long hallway that still shifted with a
chill wind and slowly-warming snow, amid a pile of rubble. The far side of Moaning Myrtle's
bathroom had been blasted apart too, though it seemed more the work of deflected spells
from Sirius as Nott had appeared. The Chamber of Secrets had been open, its upper entrance
torn apart.

"I guess everyone will know where it is now," he said quietly, then glanced at those still
present. Sirius looked more exhausted even than he was, and his face and arms, every bit of
exposed flesh and, more that shouldn't have been, was bleeding and bruised from his own
extended battle, but his Godfather was on his feet, his expression firm and determined, his
wand hand steady as it levitated the Headmaster.

Ron was hurt, too, and his breath wheezed uncomfortably as he inhaled and exhaled, but he
showed no other signs of pain as he lifted the Succubus in a bridal carry, careful of her
broken, twisted wings, which Ginny reached out to help support, "How's your chest, Ron?"
The ginger snorted, glancing down at the Succubus as she shifted with a pained whimper,
"The one from the Platform was worse. This... it hurts, but it's like the armor's pressing on my
chest, not really an injury. Once I figure out how to shift back, I think I'll be alright. Mostly,
anyway. You? Gin?"

"'M alright," the younger witch replied quietly, "Barely scratched. What... what happened to
Lilith?"

"Vampire," Harry growled without malice, only frustration, "She was so fast... had to have
been old. Faster than Lilith, or me, or Sirius. At least, faster with Nott distracting us. And
everything we did to him or her just... didn't stick. They healed so fast, too. Some kind of
regeneration. Dumbledore- Dumbledore seemed to think they were linked, somehow. If we
didn't hurt them both at the same time, it... wouldn't stay."

Sirius grunted as Harry started moving, the others falling in around him.

"We'll go to the hospital wing second then. I... I need to help Lilith first. Gin, once she's
settled, can you go to Hermione, or McGonagall, and tell her we're alright, but...
Dumbledore...?"

"I'll do that when I get him to the Hospital Wing," Sirius said instead, "I... It'll be hard, but I
think I can still manage a Patronus to send a message with. And if not, I can just Floo or ask a
portrait to tell her."

"I'll get Hermione, then, and then go back to the Great Hall to get the rest you took there,"
Ginny nodded, "Soon as we get her down. Where are we taking her?"

Harry glanced at Sirius, then shrugged tiredly, "My... well, I think any, but my... fluids, can
heal her. The more, the better."

Sirius almost dropped Dumbledore, and his face was both amused and horrified, if bloody
and pale at the same time, when he looked toward Harry, "What, Mini-Prongs? You're...
gonna shag her healthy, again?"

"No," Harry snorted, not nearly as amused, "I need to get the fluid, but I'm not going to hurt
her to get it. There's other... ways. Other women."

"I'll help, and I know Hermione will too," Ginny offered at once.

Sirius grunted in surprise again, and even Ron spoke up, "If it's any fluids, I'll also try and get
Hannah, Neville, Luna, and the Slytherins- hell, anyone we can get. I'm sure they'd all want
to help, since she's helped us so much."

Harry nodded, but didn't respond verbally. He didn't need to, Ron was right. His friends owed
her, and he'd call in that debt if he needed to. Even... Even if Dumbledore was gone, and the
castle damaged so severely, even if all hope seemed lost...He would not abandon her. He
wouldn't abandon any of his friends, and was even less capable of abandoning someone he'd
come to love. By the end of the day, come hell or high water, he would see her covered in
semen, squirt, and whatever else it took for her Auto-erotic Healing power to work.
The day had hurt, and it would certainly leave its scars on them all, and the world. But it was
not over yet, and maybe, just maybe, they could get an early start on making things right.

No need to put it off, and even less desire to, after all.

Harry had already had enough of waiting around. They had work to do, as soon as they were
healed or healing again.

Apparently, a lot of it.

 Recuperation / A Long Rest

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

NO, you aren't hallucinating! It's a bonus chapter of FwB, for the Holidays! This Saturday's
should still release on time (Sunday at latest, along with ZPoW), AND I'm planning on doing
more on Christmas itself! Happy whatever holiday you do or don't celebrate this time of year.
:)
 Chap. 87 Recuperation / A Long Rest
Harry was rather impressed by Senior Auror Proudfoot's handling of the situation. He and his
partner, a witch that Proudfoot only called Savage while Harry was in earshot, had walked
into a situation that most would have found astounding.

They walked into a school with a dead headmaster, who was missing a limb since anyone had
last heard news of the man. The man who was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief
Warlock of the Wizengamot, the highest court in the land and its legislative body, and the
Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, was dead. That those
three offices were all held by one person was unusual itself, but for such a powerful and
esteemed wizard as Albus Dumbledore to be dead, well...

It boded ill.

The damage done to the castle itself, visible from the outside given what Harry had seen in
his brief glimpse into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, was extensive too. Then the number of...
Well, Harry's mind supplied the word refugees, but he was pretty sure that was not it, injured,
traumatized in some way, certainly, but not refugees. Yes, the people of Hogsmeade that
flooded the castle could be described as such. But they were not refugees, if anything they
were victors. The battle was over, the damage done, and there were far fewer than Harry
would have suspected, given what he had quickly learned after he and Sirius had returned to
the Great Hall to help with things before, well, taking a much-needed break to heal Lilith, and
perhaps Ron.

Professor McGonagall had greeted them with warmth and obvious relief, until she read the
expressions on their faces. Her eyes had scanned the pair quickly, and found them lacking
almost at once, "The Headmaster...?"

"Gone," Sirius murmured, shaking his head slowly, "He- He's dead, Minnie."

All sound in the room had gone quiet for several seconds, perhaps two full minutes. That was
what Savage and Proudfoot walked into.

Knowledge that there had been an attack on Hogsmeade, and two separate but concurrent
attacks on the school itself.

Thankfully, after a quick trio of questions from Proudfoot had been directed Harry's way, he'd
been left to his own devices for the time being, "What happened? Who attacked? Where was
the attack?" Proudfoot was still there, speaking with Daphne and Tracey, trying to figure out
where Luna had gotten to when Ginny returned from Gryffindor Tower with Lavender and
Parvati in tow... but no Hermione.

Harry could still feel her, and Luna too, through the abilities he had from Lilith, He knew
they were both close, but could not get a sense of danger or a lack thereof from either one.
Nor, surrounded by this many worried students, could he identify their location. Too late, he
realized he could probably have used that same ability to find Vicky, or Isabelle Ross, or even
Theodore Nott. If he'd known he could do it in advance, at any rate.

But he didn't, he couldn't blame the Succubus, she didn't know he could do it either, until he
had at King's Cross. And by then it was too late for those girls.

It wasn't like she could predict the future, or know what abilities each of them might get. In
fact, she'd publicly stated quite the opposite on at least one occasion Harry could think of,
and once more in a smaller, more private conversation. How could she have known? Of
course a part of him felt he should feel guilty.

If only this... if only that.

But he was not the fifteen year old boy that had blamed himself for everything that went
wrong in his life. A year and more of having people he cared about, that cared about him
enough to work on his sense of self-worth, had taught him that. He could not be everywhere
for everyone all of the time.

He was, Chosen One or not, just one person.

That stupid prophecy seemed to demand that he be at the center of the war, but that didn't
mean he had to wage it single-handedly. Lilith, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, the others, they had
all been force-feeding him that lesson for twelve months.

He thought he understood, at least now. He had to trust Hermione and Luna. He had to trust
the teachers to protect the school. Even with Dumbledore gone, he suspected that Hogwarts
would remain firm. It was the last bastion for their side, the symbol of the magical world's
hope, its very future.

But they were not fighting a defensive war alone, not anymore. The stories that trickled in
from the mouths of the wounded inspired Harry, as it seemed he had inspired so many of
them.

Like at King's Cross, the people of Hogsmeade had fought back.

And they'd won.

Some stories said the Death Eaters numbered in the hundreds. Some just ten. Likely, Harry
knew it was somewhere between those extremes. But they were dead, all of them except the
one he had learned a certain black-haired, gray-skinned female vampire had whisked away at
the end of the Death Eater's last stand.

He helped with triage, even used the limited first aid spells he knew to help with some of the
wounded. He had spoken, and more importantly listened, to everyone who had wanted to talk
to him. Most wanted to thank him for standing up to the Dark, for reminding them that they
could, and showing them how to do it.

It had been... hard.

He had not wanted to see their bleeding, scratched, or burned faces, or their missing hands, or
any of it, not while the people of Hogsmeade thanked him.

But he knew why they did. The same way they would have thanked Dumbledore if he had
been alive to do so. The people looked to him to lead them, and, for perhaps the first time,
Harry felt he was truly up to the task. He did not want to. He hated that the duty fell to him.

But he would not put it down, nor relieve himself of that burden. He would not let the
innocent bystanders become victims.

So he kept his face resolute. Kept his back straight, and shoulders back. The tears... he did
not hide those. He did not hide his emotions at all, but let them flow freely as he
commiserated with, encouraged, or consoled the long stream of people that wanted a few
moments of his time after such a life-altering event for so many.

The whole while, Ginny stood on his right, while Ron kept Lilith company, in the quarters he
had been assigned this year, in case she awoke. It had the side benefit of keeping those who
would see his new abilities to a minimum. But it also gave the ginger time, they hoped, to
figure out how to reverse the transformation, if that was even possible. Hermione, after all,
did not seem to be able to turn off her own Succubus Rune-granted abilities, but Ginny could.

Proudfoot and Savage questioned the teachers, and the people of Hogsmeade, most of whom
reported that they'd already given statements at the scene, and slowly, the situation became
more clear.

Professors Flitwick, Burbage, Vector, and Hagrid had, alone, held the gates of the school
against a small team that, judging by Savage's invective commentary on hearing the news,
would have been equivalent to an elite Hitwizard attack team sent to eliminate priority
targets. Dumbledore himself, McGonagall, Harry, and a few others were all floated as
possible goals, and at least one of the two Aurors had muttered something about all three
being an option.

Hermione and Luna, both with red-rimmed, slightly swollen eyes, walked into the Great Hall
hand in hand about twenty minutes into the interviews, but they could do little more to assist.
Harry wasn't worried though, they seemed alright, if just as emotionally worn as he was. The
innocent victims needed his attention, and theirs, more.

He could wait, for now.

At something like eleven-thirty that night, the all-clear was given to the students in general,
but it was far too late for most of them to do more than sleep anyway. Classes were,
predictably, canceled for the next week to give both the students and faculty a chance to
process what had happened, and worse, what could have happened. Mind Healers were
recommended for many if not all, but by and large, Harry and his friends were also not
instructed in any particular thing by the staff.

It seemed that Minerva McGonagall, now acting Headmistress, had learned that Harry and
his cohort did not particularly need instruction to be useful.
For that, he was grateful. A nagging or even commanding, demanding, voice would have
been a bit too much after his emotionally and physically trying day.

So when the all-clear was sounded, Harry was the first among his many friends present to
make his way out and down to the quarters.

Everyone who had comforted him at some point in the last couple of days since his and
Dumbledore's mission to the Gaunt Hovel was there, most of them willing and able to do the
exact thing they had done before: just be there, with Harry and the others. Providing safety,
warmth, and the comfort of their presence not just to him, but to each other.

One by one, everyone who had been involved so far in the more intimate acts of Harry's
recent life, excluding Katie, made their way into the former 'dungeon' turned Harry's
bedroom, where Ron (who was still plated in his new chitin armor, though the crack seemed
to have miraculously healed part of the way) had placed Lilith's comatose body.

Each had been given simple instructions: Without jostling her broken wings, put the fluids of
their sexuality on her. Semen, squirt, it made no difference. Even a kiss, so long as lust was
involved, would do. If they could do it on a visible injury, or near the breaks in her wings, so
much the better.

Ron had told Harry he'd already jerked off, and even used Lilith's hand once, three times to
try and kick-start the process, but it hadn't seemed to do much good. Lavender had been the
first of the newcomers, then Pansy, Luna, and Hermione, then Ginny. Daphne and Astoria
had gone in together, and the blonde had been very red in the face when they returned, which
made Harry quite curious as to what had happened, but he did not feel it appropriate to ask.
Hannah and Neville had gone in last, and their stay had been among the longest, with both
looking quite tired but pleased with the resolution, even if the blonde probably hadn't gotten
her customary anal creampie at the end.

Then it was his turn.

What he found should have been erotic in itself: his lover, his Succubus, glistening with
fluids from the passion of his friends, however muted or strange it might have been to use a
broken, beaten body as a source of eroticism. It should have been a turn-on. He should've
been aroused just seeing her, he usually was.

But Lilith was still unconscious, barely detectable through their bond. The bond was still
there, functioning, but just as diminished in that strange way as it had been before by
whatever the vampire had done. Just as strong, but it was as if the channel had been
narrowed, or now had more resistance to the current of power that once flowed through it
freely.

The scent alone, semen and squirt and sweat and more, would once have spiked his libido. It
should have, Harry could feel it trying, could feel his body wanting to react as it normally
would have. Somewhere deep inside him, the distant, dormant part of him that he considered
a sister of sorts, Iris, wanted the same thing. But it was muted. Warped. Not broken, just...
twisted, out of place, and out of sorts.
Like him.

Like Lilith's wings. Like the Succubus herself.

In the common room of the quarters, which was packed to capacity and then some, he knew
his friends were doing the same thing with each other that he had been doing with them.
Helping each other. Talking through it. Reasoning out what went wrong, what they could
have done better, and what would come next.

But here, in this room devoted to sex, where a Succubus lay in her natural form on his bed,
Harry could find little in him to do it.

He wanted to, and desperately. He wanted to cover Lilith in the semen she needed to recover.
He wanted her up, and healthy, and... whole.

But for the first time since he was fourteen and looking at Fleur Delacour in her swimsuit
before the second task, he had a hard time getting an erection.

Instead, Harry found himself on his knees, his forehead touching Lilith's, with one of her
clawed, too-large hands held in both of his, "Don't go," he murmured, wishing he still had
tears left to cry. Maybe they would help, if the fluids of his friends had not.

"I don't... I don't want you to go where I can't follow. I love you, you know. As much as
Hermione, or Ginny, or any of the others. You're my friend, my partner. I- I don't want you to
leave me. Any of us."

The words were simple, heartfelt, and Harry's voice was raspy, hoarse from too much talking
already so that by the time he murmured them quietly, it almost sounded like sandpaper on
soft balsam pine. He could not say any more, he had no words to represent what Lilith meant
to him. But their Bond worked both ways, and he knew without a doubt that, even diminished
as it was, she felt it. Felt his feelings, felt his love for her, just as he felt hers.

Yes, their relationship had started on lust alone, on a contract, an arrangement of services.
But she had quickly become more than that. So much more.

"I love you," he whispered once more, and pressed his lips to hers. It was not the first time
they'd kissed sideways from each other, or the first time he had done so in her true form, but
it was the only time those had been concurrent. How had he not noticed the particular dry
ripple, so tiny it was barely noticeable, in her mouth as he did so?

Then her hand tightened, just a little.

He felt... better, just a little, as some of the empty channel, the wide riverbed with a tiny
trickle of water flowing through it, filled with renewed flow, "You're still in there, aren't you?
I can tell. You want to come back, but... what? Are you scared?"

Nothing, there was no reaction. Harry sighed.

"She's gone, the vampire. Dumbledore did something to her. He's... he's dead, too. I need you,
Lilith."
Another tiny, infinitesimal squeeze, and a slightly larger current. Even combined, it was just
noticeable from the flicker it had been since... whatever the vampire had done to her. But it
was enough to make a difference, at least to Harry.

Things were not hopeless. Not with the Death Eaters, or the people of Hogsmeade. Not the
students, or the school. Not even with one Horcrux, the lost-and-found Diadem of Rowena
Ravenclaw, hopefully destroyed, as Hermione and Luna had told him not an hour before.

They were certainly not hopeless with his friends, with people to support him, support each
other.

Yes, he still would have work to do. At least two Horcruxes remained to be destroyed. But he
knew how to do it. He had a couple of methods now, if it came down to it: Fiendfyre, and the
Sword of Godric Gryffindor. Or, come to think of it, the corpse of a Basilisk that Dobby had
not yet removed from the Chamber of Secrets.

Speaking of which, Harry thought, then said aloud, "Dobby?"

With a pop, the elf appeared, beaming "The Great Harry Potter, Sir, calls for Dobby?"

"Yes, I- I need you to do something for me, my friend," Harry said quietly, hoping the elf
ignored the Succubus' nudity. He seemed to be doing a fine job of it, anyway, though once his
eyes had widened as they drifted that way before being jerked back to Harry.

"Anything, sir!"

"Go to the Chamber of Secrets, and do... well, do something to protect the Basilisk. I don't
want anyone, Aurors, Professors, Students, or anyone else from getting to it and accidentally
poisoning themselves. Or elves."

Dobby's smile, if anything, grew wider, "Dobby will see it done, Harry Potter! Dobby knows
just the magic to use to keep everyone from getting to it, until the Great Harry Potter, Sir,
deems otherwise!"

Then the elf was gone, leaving Harry with a soft smile, still holding Lilith's hand.

He had friends, a family all his own. Lilith was part of it. He loved her, was in love with her.
And he would not, could not, let her waste away.

Without releasing her hand, Harry stood up, then finally had to let go with one of his to undo
his trousers. It took a little effort to fish out his dick, but once he had, it wasn't that much
work to tug himself to full hardness. Once he had, Harry smiled, "Alright, Lilith... I know
you won't mind this. You like it when I use you, don't you? Open that pretty mouth, beautiful,
it's time to get started..."

As passion went, it was not Harry's finest hour. Or even three.

But by the time dawn came, Lilith had regained much of her color, and her wings had mostly
straightened out. Harry himself was well and truly exhausted, having worked himself to no
fewer than twenty-seven orgasms in six hours for the Succubus' benefit.
Even if it had felt great each time as usual, Harry knew this was not about him.

But when he saw Lilith's demonic form smile, with their bond almost back to where it had
been, he finally curled up with her in his arms and allowed himself to take a very long, very
well-deserved rest.

Albus Dumbledore's funeral was a grand affair, one that the entire Student body of Hogwarts
was allowed to attend, along with the staff, a great many important figures from the Ministry
of Magic, the ICW, and, of course, the Headmaster's last living relative, his brother,
Aberforth.

Harry remembered the man from the previous year well, as it had been in his bar, the Hog's
Head, that Dumbledore's Army had been organized.

Harry, with Ginny and his circle of friends on his right and Sirius, Remus Lupin, other
members of the Order of the Phoenix on his left, filled half of the closer, more intimate
seating arranged for Dumbledore's many admirers to attend.

Honestly, afterward, Harry would have preferred it if he were able to stay at Hogwarts and
reflect rather than attend. While he was certain Albus Dumbledore was, in fact, the great
man, and great wizard, that the several speakers had painted him to be, that was not how
Harry had known him.

Yes, he was a great wizard, arguably the greatest that had ever lived, and almost certainly the
greatest of modern times, for all he was quite aged and old-fashioned. A man to rival Merlin
himself, some might have said, and in fact, the current Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour,
had said as much in his own speech.

But Harry had known him as a teacher. A man who loved learning, and imparting knowledge
to others. A scholar, a gentleman, and a wise, kindly grandfather.

A friend.

Not some hero of myth and legend, a world-shaking figure that had shaped politics and
policy alike for a century or more. He was not, to Harry, the man who had defeated the only
Dark Lord said to have ever been greater than Voldemort in power, Gellert Grindlewald.

He was Harry's friend, his mentor. And he was gone.

But as Harry stared at the white marble tomb, in a quiet cemetery in Godric's Hollow,
strangely close to his own parent's graves, he could not focus on the words of the important,
powerful, witches and wizards. Not even Amelia Bones, who he respected a great deal.

No, his mind turned again and again to the Dumbledore that he knew. The teacher who had
been forced to become a savior, and a hero, and a leader.

They had on- no, twice- spoken of the similarities between Voldemort's life, and Harry's own.
Being orphans, raised by people who feared and hated them. Even their looks were similar
enough.

But at the funeral, Harry felt more akin to Dumbledore. A person who had no wish to lead
being forced to by circumstances and the will of others. A person destined, according to
some, for greatness, because the need for it had been thrust upon them.

Harry hoped, truly hoped, that he could rise to the barest of fractions of what Dumbledore
had on his own occasion.

He wanted Voldemort dead for so many reasons. He would see it done. Dumbledore's loss
was just one of many. And frankly, not all that unexpected given his age.

What they had learned in the last two days since the attack had been impressive. The now-
legendary Headmaster had not only used a chained series of instantly-conjured Portkeys to
send what had become of Theodore Nott straight into the sun, but the linked effect of
whatever kept both Nott and the vampire near-impervious to damage had backfired.

Vampires did not do well in sunlight.

Nothing they knew of did well when literally bathed in the power of a star, even for the
fraction of an instant that Nott had taken to disintegrate and break the link.

That backlash had destroyed Malfoy Manor, and killed what the Ministry touted as 'dozens'
of Death Eater terrorists.

The overheard, or leaked, information coming out of Slytherin, according to the Carrow
twins, was that the number was likely in the sixties, with many more injured, as a meeting
had been scheduled for not much later in the day after the attacks.

The Ministry had been hit too, but their own defenses, bolstered by Amelia Bones' quick
response to Susan's warning, had held off the twenty Death Eaters there at the gates. Most
had ended up escaping, but a few were currently being questioned, and not all that kindly.

The one true loss their side seemed to have suffered was when the Dementors had shown up
in Brighton, apparently seeking out Minister Scrimgeour's family.

Fortunately, they were on holiday due to the difficulties in the United Kingdom, and only one
security wizard and the family cat had been victims of the attack.

It seemed, if one used only cold mathematics, a fair price to pay for the losses the Death
Eaters and Voldemort had suffered.

But Harry was not done with that, not yet. He had not yet truly begun waging war himself.
Lilith had hampered Voldemort, and Dumbledore had been the one to hamstring his forces.

Now, it was Harry's turn. He had the summer to plan.

By the time school started again, he wanted to be ready. He would not just be attending
school...
He would be leading the war effort, from the front lines, if need be. And he knew, without
needing to ask, that his friends would be behind and beside him.

His- Their sixth year was not yet over, but the Death Eaters had far more wounds to lick than
his side did. The Death eaters would recover, in time, and would be faster, stronger, and more
ready. He only hoped enough of them made it through the summer to see what was in store.
Not because he wanted their fear-mongering and bigotry to last any longer than it absolutely
had to...

But because he wanted to deliver his own brand of fear, first.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters had attacked students twice in the last six months. They
would not dare do so again, not if Harry had his way.

When the funeral finally ended, Harry was among the only ones with a clear expression and
eyes. It was not surprising to him, at least, that he was the one guiding Ginny and Sirius, and
thus the others, toward the exit of the cemetery. He paused only briefly at the monument to
his parents' sacrifice, and did not glance at the ruin where he had been born.

"Let's get back to Hogwarts," he told his friends as he conjured a long rope for Sirius to
enchant as a Portkey, "It's time to finish healing Lilith and get back on our feet. There's work
to do."

"Healing Lilith, huh?" Sirius tried to tease.

Harry only grinned and nodded, "Yes, and another orgy after that, probably. We've a lot more
Runes to apply once she's back at full strength."

"Yeah, sure," Sirius laughed, "I bet."

"It's true," Hannah, who happened to be walking near them with Neville's hand in her own,
"We all help with those these days. I've got a set myself."

Sirius could only stammer, "How many girls are you shagging, pup?!"

"Not enough," was Ginny's giggling reply.

 A Learning Experience

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

Regular chapter post today (earlier than usual), but still part of the Christmas Presents. This
was one of the most fun denoument chapters for Yr 6 for me to write, and not because it's
smutty- it was just a funny conversation to me, similar to one my sisters told me about a
while back. I'm not naming names though. lol Enjoy, and once again, there should be another
FwB post on Christmas (Monday, a few days from now) as well! :)
 Chap. 88: A Learning Experience
"Wait... what? You've actually done it?" Daphne's voice was practically a hiss as she turned to
face one of her oldest friends, her shocked expression plain on her face, "And you liked it?"
Behind her, Tracey Davis, her girlfriend, had just come out of a bathroom stall and looked
almost as surprised, maybe a little more intrigued, but definitely surprised at what Pansy
Parkinson had told the blonde, "You seriously let a boy bugger you?"

"A couple of them," Pansy laughed with a casual grin and an almost dreamy expression on
her face as she looked in the mirror to check her carefully-applied lipstick, "Potter of course,
but also Longbottom and Weasley."

"W- Weasley? I thought you hated him- or at least, didn't like him much."

This time, Pansy's smile was a little more soft and she gave a little shrug before answering, "I
don't. I did, but I don't know. He's alright. But that dick of his, it reaches so far, and it's not
big enough, thick enough, to hurt. Potter's can, and Longbottom's does, but Weasley's is just
perfect for it. Deep, but not too stretching."

Daphne shuddered, red-faced, was there a slight green tint to it? Pansy couldn't quite be sure.
But the petite girl that stood beside her at the row of sinks used the mirror to look at Pansy as
she asked, "You have done it three times?"

She was, and had been, one of Daphne Greengrass' and Tracey Davis' oldest friends, so she
was not as surprised by the blunt question, or who had asked it, as some might be. Pansy
shrugged, "Five? No, six. Just with three wizards."

"But- But when?" Daphne gawked.

Pansy thought about it for a moment, then started listing off on her fingers, "The first time
with Potter was when I got my Runes, of course. Weasley was the same night, I think. Then
Potter, Longbottom- and I'm not doing it again with him, because he's too thick and it did
hurt- Potter, and then Weasley again. Oh, twice, so seven I suppose. No- wait, there was also
the night Weasley got his Runes, before the whole fiasco with Nott. So eight."

Both of the other girls stared, wide-eyed, at Pansy for several seconds as she finished
applying the last touches of makeup with her wand. Then she turned to look at them both,
"What? That's all of them."

"You... You..." Daphne swallowed, and now looked distinctly more green than red, though
there were definitely still hints of the second color there, "You took a wizard's dick... in your
arse. Eight times?!"

The last two words were delivered at a volume approximately seven times louder than the
previous sentence had been, and Pansy flinched, "Yes, I don't see what the big deal is."
"I believe Daphne is surprised because you have stated publicly that you will 'never do such a
degrading, demeaning act,'" Tracey pointed out.

The blonde nodded vigorously, but said nothing.

Pansy only sighed as if she were reluctant to even take the effort to explain, "Look, you heard
Potter that night. The Runes only work if you, well, do it all three ways. Oral, Vaginal, Anal.
I hadn't a choice. Besides, when- You know what? No. I'm not doing this here. Dungeon.
Now."

Daphne had never been one to listen to Pansy when she got that imperious tone in her voice,
but she had to admit it was... well, she was curious. So she followed along behind Tracey as
the smaller girl quickly moved after Pansy herself. Thankfully their walk was not long, the
public bathrooms nearest Harry's quarters for the year being just down the hall from the
quarters themselves. Daphne, at least, would care that her makeup was not perfect if she was
seen in public.

As it was during breakfast, the quarters themselves were empty as well, which was a relief to
Pansy too. Once they were in the room Harry had claimed as his bedroom, after giving up the
master suite for Pansy and Astoria, Daphne's younger sister, the black-haired witch shut the
door and locked it with a simple second-year charm. She turned to her friends and told them
seriously, "What I'm going to tell you doesn't leave this room. Not to any other person, and
not ever talked of outside this chamber itself. I'll invoke the House Rules if I have to."

"Not necessary," Tracey replied.

Daphne could still only swallow and nod, quite at a loss for words. All she could squeak out
was, "Potter is... one thing, but... W- Weasley? Twice?"

Pansy huffed and crossed her arms under her breasts, and tried not to notice how it made both
Tracey and Daphne's eyes flicker downward from her face for a few moments, "Yes. And
once you've done it, you won't be acting so surprised, either. Anyway, I brought you here to
explain how, since you seem so curious. But if you don't want to hear it..."

She trailed off, and Tracey leaned in eagerly. Daphne, still a little green, muttered, "I'm going
to regret this, aren't I," under her breath before gesturing for Pansy to get on with it.

"Well," she started, standing tall even though she felt her face heating a little as she
remembered that very poignant night, it was one she still dreamed of with regularity even
months later, at least as often as the night Potter had shagged her brains out on the Astronomy
Tower while Draco watched helplessly, "There's some history between Potter's group and
myself, as you both know."

The girls nodded simultaneously. Pansy shrugged, though she was still quite embarrassed by
the way she had acted in her previous life, "To demonstrate... trust, I wasn't bound to the bed
when they applied my first Rune-set. I was in the pillory."

Daphne's eyes widened even further than they had in the bathroom.
Tracey's did too, but only a little as she leaned in, "Did you like it?"

"I wasn't.... I didn't think I would," Pansy said quietly, "but yes. I did. I liked it a lot. It's...
freeing, in an odd way, being bound up. Being helpless. My only purpose there was to accept
what they were doing to me, and... try to enjoy it. And I did."

"But... Weasley, in your rear?" Daphne prompted, "Why did you pick him?"

"I didn't," Pansy admitted as she walked over to the device and ran a hand over the upper
section with a strangely gentle, loving touch, "Potter- Harry- chose for me, as my Master."

"Your Master," the taller witch repeated, "You call Harry that? I thought only the Succubus
and sometimes the Weasley girl did that."

Pansy shook her head, "No, there's Lavender Brown, too. She was there that night, also.
Harry is... he makes me feel things I never thought I would. I like... belonging to him. Being
his girl, his slave. That's only in the bedroom of course, and only sometimes. But... somehow,
without me telling him, he... he knew things about me even I didn't. And he gave me
everything I didn't even know I wanted, and more, that night. Weasley in my arse was... just
one of those. I hated giving him that control-Harry- but once I had... once I accepted that it
was my place to obey him, it was just... Enlightening. Arousing. The best night of my life- up
to that point."

The best night after it was just between her and Harry. It was the night, just a week or two
ago now, when he'd first told her that he loved her, and meant it. But that was, at least for
now, only between them.

"But... in your arse. You got buggered..."

"Eight times, yes," Pansy huffed sharply, "And it's amazing. I didn't think it would be, but I
really like it. Even the pain, sometimes, is good. But, and this is a huge thing for me to admit,
as much as I love Harry inside me, Weasley's dick in my arse feels better."

"But... when did you...? Wait, you said when Weasley got his Runes? But when?"

This time, she rolled her eyes, "When you were watching me get on top of him. You must not
have been paying attention, I wasn't hiding it."

"We will need to do it as well, if we are to get Runes," Tracey said, partially to break
Daphne's train of thought, which seemed to be racing around a circular track at full speed.

"Indeed."

Daphne blanched, "But... But I've never... I don't want to..."

Pansy took pity on her friend and rested a hand on her shoulder, "Look, Daphne, you don't
have to get the Runes. You heard Harry, no one will make you."

"But Tracey," she whined.

The petite girl shrugged as if she was unconcerned, "I will get the Runes. I will likely elect
Harry or Lilith to do that part, and simply request that he shrink himself down to a
comfortable level."

"That's a good idea," Pansy replied, "And I wish I'd thought of it. But I have a different idea.
You could train yourselves up, to make it easier."

"T- Train...?" Daphne's voice at that statement was high pitched, barely audible.

Pansy only nodded with a wide smile, then turned to walk further into the large room. Past
the swing, the pillory, the couch, and then left to the long shelves of sex toys and
paraphernalia behind it, next to the X-frame, "You're familiar with dildos, I know."

Both of the lovers nodded, though she noticed Daphne's hands were trembling, while Tracey
only looked mildly excited.

"These weird ones," she pointed to a set of round-pointed, short cone shaped devices with flat
bottoms, "are meant to go in your arse. See, the small ones are for the start of the process.
You wear one for a day or two until it's comfortable, then go to the next larger, and so on. By
the time you're up here, you should be ready for a cock. It might still hurt, but it will hurt a lot
less. At least, that's what Hermione explained."

Tracey's head cocked to the side, her soft brown hair swaying, "You did not use them to
prepare?"

Pansy smiled proudly, "I wasn't given the option, and no. Potter... Harry treated me very well,
though, and with Weasley after I was already warmed up. It did hurt, though I still came like
the Hogwarts Express running down the tracks, but it did hurt."

Daphne swallowed audibly, then surprised them all- perhaps herself the most- by whispering,
"Will- will you help me put it in?"

Pansy grinned, "Nope. They belong to Harry- you'll have to ask him. Sorry."

She paled, but knew there would be no changing Pansy's mind. Ever since he had given her
that piece of advice, and then gone to help her pick up the pieces of her life the previous year,
she had been his above all others. There was no shaking her loyalty now. She would... she
would just have to buck up the courage and ask him herself.

There was no way she could let Tracey get the lust-inducing Runes and not get herself a set to
keep up. Even if that meant, just one time, she'd have to have Potter up her arse.

It never even occurred to her that she might well enjoy it.

It was six days after the funeral of Albus Dumbledore. On the morrow, the Hogwarts Express
would be picking up the students for the end of the year. Most classes were over for the term,
with only the last few review classes for N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. students carrying on, plus the
remainder of the exams themselves.
Harry was finally starting to feel like his normal self again after the chaotic, traumatic days
that had started with Luna being attacked, finding out he would stoop to torture if pressed
hard enough, going through the events at the Gaunt Hovel, and culminating in the attack on
the castle that left the Headmaster dead, two Ghosts gone to their final rest and off the roster,
and one Horcrux potentially back in Voldemort's hands.

Oh, and Voldemort knew the rest were under threat now.

But there was nothing Harry could do about that, not yet. So he did what any sixteen year old
wizard in his position would do: distract himself as a means of relaxation before the work
began once more.

In this case, he distracted himself with books.

Not just any books, but a few books Hermione had ordered while she had been with her
family the previous summer, and then brought with her while staying over at Sirius' house
with him for Yule.

Sexual education books. The first two were essentially primers, the sort of things one might
go over in a maturation class in Secondary and Tertiary School. The third was an honest,
though abridged, copy of the Kama Sutra. He already owned one himself, thanks to Lilith,
but Hermione's was more informative as it was an older edition that had been translated with
less editing and contained many of the original drawings as plates.

The last two were university-level books, and ones he was sure she had ordered and kept
secret from her parents. The first was Human Sexuality, which while it had a simple enough
title... left him flabbergasted by the sheer breadth of knowledge he didn't have on the subject.
Lilith had taught him a great deal, but it seemed there was still so much more to learn!

Finally, The Ultimate Guide to Kink, had... well, it had even more. He'd been calling Ginny
and Lilith his 'Pets' for months now, but that was... that was a thing? Actual people,
pretending to be pets. Sexual pets.

Dogs, cats, the whole zoo.

He'd had an erection the whole time reading the later three. Granted, the majority of those
books were not intended to be strictly educational (though, as expected with Hermione, they
were often very much that). But he had used the quiet time wisely, and with a plan.

The first two books were... useful, of course, but they were mostly of benefit for Harry to
learn so that he could teach others. Specifically, any children...

And Susan Bones.

The one who'd asked him to teach her about sex, as a prelude to entering into the same sort of
Concubine Contract that he and Daphne were going into.

The later ones? Well, Hermione had mostly gotten them for her own research, but had been
happy to loan them out when he asked. And he knew a girl, or three, who would really be
into a section he had just read. In fact, Harry was reasonably sure he might be into it too,
given a few flashes of daydreams he could recall involving collars and leashes.

He'd read that section four days ago, and, thanks to Lilith's transportation powers, was now
the proud owner of a very legally(ish) obtained set of three collars, three leashes, and various
other toys to go with them. Harnesses with anal and vaginal plugs, for example, some of
which he and Hermione had already started charming to do various things, like her favorite
purple dildo.

As for who he was going to give the things to? Well... she was already on the way.

And if he knew his girls...

There was a knock on the door of his sex-dungeon-cum-bedroom, "Come in," he called from
his position on the bed. On his right, the very book he was about to finish had been turned
back to the section on pet play. On his left, the trio of collars with leashes attached. And
coming in through the door was Lavender Brown. A girl he had formed a strangely tight
relationship with, considering he frequently ordered her to shag random people in Gryffindor
Tower, after being kidnapped by Death Eaters almost... no, wait, was that night exactly a year
ago? He thought it might be, but would have to ask Hermione. She always remembered dates
better than he did.

That could wait, though. Right then, he had more pressing business, "Good evening,
Lavender."

"Er, hi, Harry," the blonde girl said, sounding a bit confused. Her bag was over her shoulder,
and she still wore her Hogwarts robes, which meant she had been studying with Parvati (and
probably Padma) when Lyra had found her. He knew full well by now that she preferred to be
in more casual, muggle-style clothing whenever possible. Or nothing at all, "What did you
need?"

"That's, 'What did you need, master,'" Harry told her firmly, "Address me properly or not at
all."

He would have thought she would be embarrassed. Shy, perhaps. Affronted, even.

Instead, he watched a shiver go down Lavender's whole body as another figure crept through
the still-open doorway. A slender girl with bright, fiery-red hair, whose form was currently
hazy and indistinct, even translucent. Almost ghost-like, if it were not for the obvious color.

Harry forced himself to keep from grinning at the eavesdropper. Ginny Weasley had always
been a curious sort, and her penchant for trickery rivaled her twin brothers'. Only, she could
turn invisible to everyone except Harry and Lilith without a wand, spell, or even cloak. Even
better, Ginny knew he could see her now, so she sent him a lascivious wink that told him she
knew something was up, but was mostly curious to see what it was.

That was great, as far as he was concerned, "Shut the door, Slave."
Again, Lavender trembled, but she didn't hesitate to obey, as if he held some magical charm
or compulsion over her. Almost, he thought, as if she were under the Imperius Curse.

But she was not. He would know, he had learned to spot it and its effects two years
previously. He didn't even think that magic would have as powerful a hold over Lavender
Brown as he did. A hold she relished, had asked of him. She wanted to be his, to be owned,
taken, used, and controlled. He thought that she, of all the women in his growing circle of
regular partners and friends, would appreciate this.

"Stand in front of me."

Again, without question or hesitation, Lavender obeyed.

"Undress."

This time, there was only the briefest moment of pause, barely noticeable, as her skirt was
pushed down. He did not choose to punish her for it, since she had otherwise obeyed
perfectly. Perhaps, he reasoned with himself, she was simply trying to figure out how far he
meant to go?

All the way, of course... but how far she should go with the command.

She guessed correctly, if she didn't figure it out, at least. In under a minute, Lavender was as
naked as the day she was born, and looking far more beautiful. She had among the larger
chests of their year, larger than Daphne, Hermione, or Pansy, but smaller than Susan Bones or
Hannah, hers were firmer than either of theirs, however, he was sure. A slender waist and
wide hips, angelic face with a much more understated approach to makeup charms than she
had used two years previously, one that now only accentuated her natural beauty, capped by a
thick mane of soft blonde locks that fell in waves do her mid-back, and delicate hands and
feet highlighted by currently teal finger- and toe-nail paint.

He nodded, and licked his lips to show the girl that he liked what he saw, "Lavender, you said
once that you wanted me to be rough with you. Do you remember that?"

She nodded, "Yes, Master," answering quickly as it was one of the defining moments of her
life. Certainly it had lead to the most defining moment, the time when Harry had brutally
claimed her body, her life, her soul, in that broom closet.

"Good. Tell me honestly. Do not answer what you think I want to hear, I want your honest
opinion. Do you enjoy what we have together? You and I, and our other lovers?"

Lavender blinked as if she was confused by the question, then surprised him briefly by
shrugging, "I'm... I'm sorry, Master, I don't know. I don't understand what you mean."

He tried again, "We were starting to be friends before I made you mine. You remember
talking to me in the Hospital Wing, for example."

"Yes, of course, Master."

He nodded, then leaned forward over his knees with his hands clasped together. She was
close enough he had to strain to look up at her eyes, but he had to admit that it was a nice,
unusual view of her bare chest, too, "Do you enjoy serving me? Obeying my commands?
Being my slave?"

"Yes, of course! It's all I want, Master."

"Even if I tell you to shag other people?"

Lavender grinned, "I love it. Shagging is so much fun! I love being with Master the most, of
course, but I'm glad he lets me try other people, too. Everyone's so different! I like being
Master's slave, but I like... Well, I like being free to follow my instincts. I'm sorry, Master, I'm
not explaining it very well..."

Harry shook his head and sat up straight once more, "Don't apologize, you haven't done
anything wrong, Lavender. And if you had, I'd have to punish you anyway, apology or not,"
he took a breath, "Not that you shouldn't say you're sorry if you do mess something up, of
course."

"Of course, Master," she agreed, as if that was the most self-evident idea she'd ever heard.

He supposed, in some ways, it was. Lavender had not exactly had a re-write of her core
personality like Romilda Vane had, but her focus had been changed from being a flighty
teenage girl to one who relished in sexual servitude, to him and his specifically and to others
in general. It was, if anything, what he was trying to do with Romilda, if he'd had the
knowledge to do it right.

But all that had really changed with Lavender, was that her inhibitions had largely fallen
away, and she preferred him over even her own pleasure.

Which meant, in the end, only one thing, "That's great, Lavender. You're a good- no, a
perfect- slave for me, too. In fact," he said as she beamed under the praise, "I'm promoting
you as a reward for your excellent service."

"There's something above being your slave, Master?" Lavender gasped, and briefly covered
her wondrous tits up with her arms as she put her hands over her mouth.

"There is. A prime position, in fact. You see, I have a few girls I could call my slaves, even if
you're the only one I use the word for regularly. But there are only two- for now- that I ever
call my Pets. That's Ginny, and Lyra. Lilith."

Lavender's eyes widened, and the soft brown glistened with unshed tears, "M- Master...?"

"That's right," he told her gently, and beckoned her forward until he could take one of her
suddenly trembling hands in his, "I'm going to give you a collar, if you want one. You'll be
my Pet forever after that."

"Master... is too good to me," Lavender sniffled.

Harry forced down the thought that phrase brought up. She sounded far too much like Dobby
just then, and he would prefer to never think of him in any sort of sexual situation. Instead, he
gestured with his other hand to the three leash and collar sets beside him, "I have three for
now. One of them is yours, the other two go to my other Pets. Choose which color you want,
my dear. Which color will mark you as mine, my Pet."

He was not shocked to see her pick the purple one, leaving the red and pink for Ginny and
Lilith. He had, after all, ordered the devices with those very girls in mind. When she touched
it, she shivered again, and looked to Harry with her eyes still swimming, though she was still
smiling widely too.

He picked it up carefully, then stood and faced her, his Pet, "Hold your hair up, Lavender."

She did so quickly, even missed a few locks in her haste to obey. But Harry couldn't fault her
for that. He pushed them aside as he raised the collar, then snapped it around her neck with
the leash dangling down between her breasts to about the level of her knees, "Now you are
mine, forever, Pet."

"Thank you, Harry," Lavender whispered.

He smiled, leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet, and too short, because
Ginny interrupted him by thrusting the red collar into his hands and coughing loudly as she
faded into view, "My turn, Master."

Harry laughed as he took the ring of leather, then put it on Ginny and kissed her, too. She was
already undressed, and he watched the two girls kiss each other happily after he released the
ginger, "Now, I'm all for some shagging," he told them a little more seriously once they
separated too, "But you need to do some reading first. See, there are rules to being a Pet.
First, when you're a Pet, you are not quite human. But you can be a cat, a dog, a fox, or
something else. You're meant to behave as that animal would in all ways possible, except
when ordered directly otherwise by me. Of course, being a Pet can't be active all the time, but
you'll always be my Pet in my heart, both of you. See, if you start reading here...."
 The Tail End (of the Year)

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

Merry Christmas once more! Last bonus chapter of the holiday... there's (I think) three more
chapters before the train. Or maybe the 3rd from now is the train. The timeline on the next
few is a bit wonky, but they should be 'timestamped' in text. :)
 Chap. 89 The Tail End (of the Year)
Harry smiled proudly as Ginny Weasley, his official public girlfriend, and Lavender Brown,
his increasingly good friend and personal slave, crawled on their hands and knees around the
sex dungeon he had been using as his bedroom for nearly six months. He would have called
them nude, and in fact most of the civilized world would have said the same, but they were
not quite. He had used his increasing powers in Transfiguration to jury-cast a combination of
charms and spells that had transformed the girl's clothing into a set of gloves and boots, soft
knee-pads, and a couple of other things that helped complete the aesthetic he had been going
for.

A discrete shopping trip by Lilith two months ago had taken care of the rest.

Both of the girls wore similar outfits, if they could be called that. Lavender's was purple,
Ginny's red, and he had a third pink one for a very special friend who had done a lot for him
lately. It started with the collars, matching choker-style ones with a metal heart in silver for
Ginny, gold for Lavender, and bronze for Lilith, though he had emphasized that the name-
tags, carefully engraved with his own wand-tip, were not given any worth as far as who he
liked more. He didn't favor Lavender more because she got gold. The promiscuous girl was
given that one because it suited her complexion and the color of the collar itself best.

Each of the girl's collars had a leash clipped to it, which were currently dragging around on
the floor beneath them, with a looped handle for easy grip. They were four feet long, just
long enough to allow a little bit of play without making him stoop or keep the girls too close
while they were... well, being what they were.

Pets.

His Pets.

Currently, the collars were also attached to leather harnesses that sat around each of the
young witch's shoulders, before running down their backs and in front between their breasts,
before connecting at the crotch and attaching down each thigh to a garter-style loop. A 'V'
shape on the rear of the harness allowed access to their rears for play or certain accessories to
be used, which for both girls was currently a butt-plug that had a tail attachment. He'd had
both Ginny and Lavender in the arse before, so he knew they could handle the relatively
small dildo-like shapes, but the weight of the tails as they swung behind the girls would add a
whole dimension of pleasure to them. At least, he hoped.

It seemed to be, because while Ginny's stiff, bottle-brush fox tail rose in an arc behind her,
and Lavender's fluffy dog tail hung low enough to just drag on the ground, both young
women playing at being animals were panting as if they were in heat after just a few minutes
of being paraded around for each other, and for Harry.

He was sporting a not-insignificant erection himself, a clear sign of his own arousal. Of
course, that was to be expected when two gorgeous witches were all-but naked for him, clad
in just paw-shaped gloves and boots, harnesses, collars, leashes, anal tails, and adorable ears
to match, and all just for him.

"Bark for me, Lavender," he urged the blonde witch, "Bark like a puppy, like my good girl."

"Woof," the girl barked at once, and settled back on her haunches, which had the side-effect
of pressing her full breasts between her upper arms. Lavender smiled up at Harry, then
pushed her tongue out and started panting like the puppy she was pretending to be.

A part of Harry expected her, his slave, to laugh it off. Perhaps to try and woof in a more
sultry manner, to tease him directly. To behave like a teenage girl pretending to be a dog. But
like Ginny, Lavender seemed to be taking this role-play very seriously. Even while sitting
with her knees spread, arse on the ground, and hands down near her ankles almost nude, she
showed no shame at her state. Dogs didn't get embarrassed, or feel shame like that, after all.
What the witch did show was adoration, devotion, and love.

On the couch nearby, the smaller Ginny was turning in circles on her hands and knees, her
fox-tail stuck up in the air. Then she flopped onto her side and lifted one leg to touch her
pussy. She only rubbed it for a moment before she moved her hand to bat at the anal plug's
fuzzy tip like it was a muggle cat-toy. Harry grinned as he dropped a hand to Lavender's head
and started petting it, rubbing lightly between the transfigured ears. The panting grew more
intense, and Lavender rose to her knees again smoothly before she pressed her side against
his leg, clearly asking for more.

So he let his hand drift lower, running in long, smooth motions from her scalp down her neck,
past the thick waves of her hair and down the smooth curves of her back to her rump, which
he kneaded or lightly spanked once before returning to the top and stroking her again.

While he petted Lavender, Harry slowly maneuvered over to his other Pet, the blonde
bouncing against his leg occasionally as she kept up. When he was close enough, he started
petting Ginny too, with a few light scratches on her scalp, before his fingers drifted down to
massage the line of her jaw. She leaned into his touch just as an animal would, and Harry's
smile widened.

They were perfect, his two Pets.

Then Lavender put a hand up, fingers curled like a paw, onto the couch and leaned her nose
toward Ginny, giving an audible snuffle.

"What's that, girl? You think she smells good? I do, too. But I think she needs some belly
rubs, don't you?"

Ginny giggled as he stopped rubbing her jaw and drifted down, over her upper breast, to use
his nails to lightly scratch the taut, pale, lightly freckled skin there. And Ginny purred, almost
cat-like, a low rumble that sounded strange and yet entirely right coming from her slender
human body. Her form twisted around his hand, her lower leg actually bumping against
Lavender's shoulder, and she let out a little whimper of pleasure.
The smaller girl's legs opened wider, and her hips twitched forward. Lavender looked up at
him curiously, and whined herself. Merlin, they were so good at this already- it was like both
girls were made to be pets, rather than witches! "Go on, girl," he urged gently, "If Foxy is in
heat, you can lick her."

Lavender almost hopped, taking advantage of the cushioning charms on her knees, bouncing
like a puppy as she readjusted her position a little. Harry kept his hand on her, stroking from
head to rump slowly as she leaned in to drag her long, supple tongue up the younger witch's
thigh, all the way to her dripping cunt. It already was, too, Harry could see liquid running out
of it, and his Succubus abilities told him both girls were as aroused as he'd ever known them
to be.

He was up there himself. He stopped petting Ginny's belly for a moment while he fished his
cock from his trousers. He'd been erect before the girls were even fully dressed in their Pet
outfits, and it was starting to hurt. But that was alright.. now was time to play. Ginny eyed
him lustily, her own hand curled to bat at it gently, which made his dick bounce and sway.
Then she leaned in, curling her body further to lap at it with her tongue from the side.

It wasn't a position or angle he was used to, but Harry thought he could well get used to it.
She was only teasing him, lapping at his dick like a fox would at a tasty treat, but not actually
sucking on him, or even wanking him. How could she? She was a fox, and their hands didn't
do that. But that was alright with Harry, he'd just needed to get out of his trousers. The rest
could wait.

Lavender's tongue on Ginny's snatch grew more eager, faster, as Harry started lingering
longer on her round, plump rear rather than her head.

She gasped and moaned as he finally drifted a little lower, and brushed three fingertips down
her own slightly furry labia, "Oh, my dog's wet, too. Is she in heat too?"

"Woof," Lavender barked into Ginny's body, a soft, trembling, needy sound. He used his
middle finger to enter her smoothly, up to the second knuckle. Lavender's body clutched and
pulled at him just like it had when he'd first taken her in the broom closet. She had suspected,
he knew, but not known it was him, and the rape-play had turned her on immensely. Even
now he wondered if she wasn't in some way damaged by losing her virginity that way, but
she had assured him enough by now in their limited alone time that she had fantasized about
it happening like that for years.

This was not quite like that, though she was just as aroused, Lavender wanted him inside her
in every way possible now, and as often as possible. This, being his Pet, his puppy, was
another dimension she had not known she needed or wanted, but she was already very into it.
Her owner, her Master, made her happy just by being nearby.

By letting her be free. Free of thought, of worry, of care. There was only the need for his
touch, and the base instincts of a dog. That was all she had to deal with. No stress of politics,
of war, or interpersonal relationships, of her reputation after sleeping with what felt like half
of Gryffindor by this point in the year. All she had to worry about was how she felt, how her
fellow pet felt, and her Master's happiness.
And she was a good puppy.

She felt so good!

Foxy, below her, whined and whimpered as her orgasm neared. Puppy wasn't even trying to
make her climax, not really, she was just lapping at the delicious juices that her fellow Pet
was leaking while she was in heat. She wished her Master would do the same to her, but that
was as far as the thought process went before she remembered he was teasing and fingering
her. Master was already giving her touch, making her feel exquisite.

Puppy whined, and selfishly pushed herself back into Master's probing fingers, but she didn't
stop licking, either. Foxy tasted too good to stop, and she knew Foxy was about to go over
the edge, too.

Harry reached down and pinched one of Ginny's nipples, then leaned over Lavender's body to
kiss her deeply, their tongues tangling. Her sensitive ears heard him whisper, "Cum, Foxy.
Cum on Puppy's mouth."

Ginny- Foxy- whimpered, and whined, and Puppy wished she could have seen her sister-pet's
eyes roll back in her head as she started to twitch and grind helplessly against the dog-girl's
mouth. A rush of sweeter, more tangy fluid hit her taste buds, and Puppy lapped them up
even faster, more eagerly.

Then she whimpered and whined herself as Master withdrew his fingers.

Moments before something bigger, thicker, three times longer, drove home into her in a
smooth motion that made her buck and howl, "Awwooo!"

Harry grunted, the faint vibrations of Lavender's climax the moment he sheathed himself up
against her womb enough to nearly coax out his own. He hunched over her next, and pulled
on the leash and collar to turn her head to let his tongue dance against hers, cheek-to-cheek.

Then he stood on his knees again, and used his left hand to tug on Ginny's collar until she
obeyed, whimpering and still hazy-eyed with the force of her climax, "That's it, Foxy. Get
down there and lick Puppy's fat tits."

After he'd given the instruction, Ginny moved faster. In just a couple of seconds, she was on
her back with her own tits in the air, head below Lavender's torso. He could sense more than
see that she was using her paw-hands to squeeze one round breast while the girl's mouth
nipped and nibbled on the other nipple.

In return, Lavender-Puppy put her right paw over Ginny-Foxy's clit and started rubbing it
awkwardly while Harry stroked in and out of her dog-pussy. Master's other hand tugged on
the long mane of blonde hair once to arch her back, then it slid lower down the curve again,
sending a tingle throughout her body to match how his erection inside her felt.

When he got low enough, Harry grabbed her dog's tail, and gave it a light tug. Not enough to
pull it free, but just enough to give her anus a bit of a shock, too, "Awoo," she whimpered.
Then Lavender shuddered as Ginny shifted further, twisting her body so she could lick at her
master's swinging scrotum and the fuzzy folds of her sex, too.

Harry groaned at the additional sensation, then pulled out and rammed his massive cock into
Ginny's tight throat, "That's it, Foxy... take it, just relax... you like the taste of Puppy's cunt
that much?"

He stroked twice, then withdrew before plunging into Lavender once more. He fucked her
harder and faster, ten, twenty times, before pulling out and using Ginny's fox-throat again for
another three pumps. Back into Lavender, and she howled again, her own second, stronger
climax held off now by the on-and-off sensation of being filled, then achingly empty.

Then she yelped as Harry slapped her rump, before he ordered, "When I pull out next, Puppy,
I need you to stay there- don't beg."

She didn't know why he'd ordered that, but she knew she would obey. Puppy was a good dog,
and obeying Master was all she ever wanted to do.

And he made her feel so good.

She climaxed again, and he forced himself just a little further, tugging and teasing half-way
through the entrance to her womb, and stayed there while the pain of it somehow enhanced
her already huge orgasm.

Out, fast, in, faster still, three more times, her body aching and panting and burning, she was
already done, couldn't he see, and he was-

Harry pulled out, slammed into Ginny's throat once, yanked himself free while he grabbed
the soft, swaying dog-tail and threw it around his cock. Soaking wet, he jerked himself off
with it to finish as he sprayed twelve, thirteen huge squirts of semen all over Lavender's rear,
her thighs, and even more on Ginny's chest and face.

When he was finally done, Harry let out an almost hysterical laugh and knee-walked back a
few inches so he could see better but kept a hand on Lavender's white-coated arse and
Ginny's face, "You girls- my Pets- are something else. Fuck. That was amazing. Please tell
me we can do this again!"

Lavender, over her shoulder, gave a wide-smiling bark, then shoved her bottom onto Ginny's
face as she hunched to start lapping up Master's more salty fluids from her sister-Pet's belly.

Harry's pleasure grew. Yes, he was definitely going to enjoy this- as much as they seemed to,
as well.

"Pot- er, Harry, can... can we speak with you? In your d- your room?"

Harry looked up from his reading- he was a few chapters further into The Ultimate Guide to
Kink, and expected to be done before they boarded the train in six days. As was often the
case, Lilith was on her knees, as herself this time, going down on him to pass the time while
he read. He knew Ron and Hermione were in the room he'd left for them, shagging wildly,
because he could hear their moans. Pansy and Astoria were in the library, along with Luna,
Ginny, and Lavender, the latter two of whom had grown just a little closer since the evening
before. The sixth-year witches were helping Ginny and Luna study for the remaining
N.E.W.T.s, because apparently the death of the Headmaster wasn't enough to cancel all end-
of-year exams anymore. Astoria was there mostly to hang out, he was sure, but she would
study too. She was a good kid.

Of course, if the younger Greengrass had been present, he'd probably have been getting his
reading and blowjob in his room instead of the common area, but since she was gone for an
hour or two he felt comfortable doing it here.

Lilith, of course, didn't stop sucking on him as his attention moved to the two girls who had
entered from their own bedroom, "Oh, hi, Daphne, Tracey. Both of you? Should Lilith come?
Or just us?"

The blonde and brunette shared a glance, the first far more red-faced than her smaller
companion, "I... just you, I think. I don't particularly mind if she knows, but I think having
her present would be... distracting."

"Alright. Well, give me a moment- she needs to feed to keep her strength up, and I've been
holding off. Let me just... Aaahhhh, that's it. Enjoy it, beautiful..."

Lilith gulped around his shaft rapidly, her own eyes fluttering in mutual orgasm as he finally
let himself climax down her throat. She was still weak, barely able to maintain even his
preferred form, but at least she was back on her feet. He hoped that, by the end of the year,
she would be well and truly back to normal. But as his pleasure helped her return to her
normal self in addition to just the fluids he released at orgasm, she had encouraged him to
hold off and not simply use his own magic and Succubus-granted powers to climax over and
over, which would make the individual effect of each orgasm weaker anyway. It was, he
knew, the emotion behind the fluids that gave them strength, and provided fuel to the
creature.

Once his climax was done, Harry made a show of pulling out a twenty-two inch penis from
the tiny body, then let Tracey and Daphne, now both very red-faced, watch as it reverted to a
more normal size of ten or so inches. Lilith pushed herself almost painfully slowly to her feet,
swayed a little as if she were dizzy, then leaned down to kiss her Master briefly before she
tossed a wave to the two Slytherins, "I'll be in Pansy and Astoria's room, I suppose, to give
you some privacy."

"Thank you," Tracey murmured quietly, and Harry was pleased to see the petite girl, Lilith's
own size, almost to the centimeter, watch her nude form avidly as she crossed the room.
Harry took the effort to close his robes around his still-hard member, but didn't do up his
pants, only held them in place with one hand while the other carried the book under his arm.

Inside the dungeon that had become his bedroom once more, Harry set the book on his bed
then turned to face the girls. Daphne was still closing the door, and he noted with amusement
that she locked it before turning to face him. Tracey was already shucking her clothing, and
she piled it carefully at the edge of the couch while she waited for her girlfriend, usually
more sedate, to join her.

Daphne didn't strip, but Harry didn't mind. Tracey doing it told him full well, if his powers
had not, what both girls wanted.

Him.

He was, of course, not going to refuse them. He never would, if he had the choice, and both
girls seemed to appreciate it. But he could be patient, he would wait until she was ready. Of
course, even though he knew full well that it was the quieter, soft-spoken, and taciturn Tracey
who really led their relationship, it was Daphne who would do the talking. She'd always been
the face of their couple, ever since they had become friends.

The blonde didn't disappoint, her hourglass figure coming into view as she doffed her robe
but left the rest of her green- and silver-trimmed uniform on for now. She left the robes
hanging over the arm of the couch as if she intended the stay to be brief. Also as usual, she
didn't beat around the bush. Neither she nor Tracey appreciated wasting time, "We have
discussed it at length, and... and we will both be accepting your Succubus' Runes, providing
the offer is on the table."

"You know what that entails?"

Daphne swallowed, and her hand was taken up by Tracey's, "I... do. I will... I will do what it
takes. Even if it means another... man..."

"We do have a Succubus," he reminded her, "Strictly speaking, like we discussed during
Ron's ritual a couple weeks ago, you don't have to have another man. I can do one, Lilith-
with a penis- can do one, and you can simply give your girlfriend cunnilingus for the third.
The other participants can all be female if you wish. There's Hannah Abbot, Hermione,
Ginny, Pansy, Lavender, or even Astoria if you've a mind."

Tracey gave a small smile of amusement, as Daphne turned red-faced, "How- how dare you-!
That's my little sister!"

"She doesn't have to," Harry chuckled, shrugging casually, "I just said she would be able, if
you wanted to. Mind, I'm not particularly comfortable with that myself. I agree with you,
Daphne, she's a little young and innocent for... all of this."

"There is also Miss Vane, is there not?" Tracey asked quietly, probably to distract Daphne.

Harry blinked, "I... I suppose there is. I'm... well, I don't know if I'd rather have her involved
or not. She's... well, she can be a lot of fun, but... she's not the same. As before. And that's
partially, or almost fully, my fault. I messed it up. I messed her up. I wouldn't... I don't want
to make things... worse."

The two Slytherins shared a significant look, but neither protested about the matter.
"Oh, and there's Luna Lovegood, and Katie Bell, I think. I'm fairly sure both would be
interested, but as neither of them have Runes yet either, I can't be sure."

Daphne nodded, "I- I think the first set of names would be sufficient for us to decide on... on
a pair. Will your Succubus- will Lilith, or Lyra- be... healthy enough? I know you had
planned on doing another set or two before the end of the year, but with her injury..."

"She is still pretty weak," Harry acknowledged with a glance through the walls in the
direction he could feel the Succubus in. She was lightly rubbing herself as she listened in on
the conversation through his ears, not that he minded. If Daphne didn't care that she knew,
what harm was it? It only saved him the work of telling her himself, "But she tells me she'll
be able to do at least one ritual the night before the train leaves. A few days, perhaps a week,
after that she'll be ready for another. Doing two at once like you seem to want to do is a bit of
a stretch, but if we give her another month or so to recover she should be okay."

"I..." Daphne looked down at Tracey, and he saw her give the smaller girl's hand a squeeze,
"I'm not sure we can wait that long. What... what you've said about the boost in power
seems... helpful. We will probably be in some danger over the summer, and-"

Harry blinked, "Well... wait, what? Danger? Why would you be in danger?"

"Milly's home is compromised," she reminded him, "As she explained on the Train coming
back from the holidays. Did you forget? Even with the protections she's added herself, it-"

Harry interrupted her with a raised hand, "I'm sorry, hold on. I- I was going to tell you, tell
everyone, later, but... I don't intend for you to go to Millicent's after school ends."

"My parents are even less safe," Daphne protested, "I can't-"

"You're coming to live with me," he told her quietly, giving her a pointed look.

Daphne blinked.

Tracey blushed, and he saw a gentle smile steal over her otherwise placid expression.

"What?"

"You," he indicated both girls, "and Hermione, Ginny, Lavender, and everyone else in the
group except maybe Neville, Hannah, and if he chooses to Ron, are staying with me for the
summer, at my place."

Daphne scowled, "I was under the impression your relatives were, as the muggles say, 'pieces
of work', and unfit for being introduced to, much less staying with."

Harry grinned as he sat down on the bed and gestured for the two to have a seat on the couch
facing him, "Well, Sirius is a bit of a dog, and a bit dodgy, too, but he's alright. But that's his
house, not my house. And as for my muggle relatives... I'll have as little to do with them as
possible if I have my way. My cousin's turning out alright, but... no, I mean Potter Manor.
The new one, I suppose."
Both girls' eyes widened in unison, "You- you've rebuilt Potter Manor?"

Harry shook his head, "No- and actually, it was Lilith who did most of the work, I think. Her
and Fleur Delacour. You know, the Beuxbatons Champion a couple years ago."

Daphne's face turned red once more, and she whispered, "You- you have a Veela...? As a
lover...?"

"She's about half Veela," Harry shrugged, "but yes, we've become intimate too. She's keeping
up the house while I'm at school."

The blonde seemed about to faint, "How... how many lovers do you... h- have...?"

Harry grinned, "I don't think you really care. But you fancy her, don't you? Blonde beauty
like her?"

Tracey nodded, "She admitted her crush before we started dating."

"Tracey!"

"I would also appreciate shagging Fleur Delacour," the petite girl shrugged innocently, "I do
not see the problem in allowing you to do the same."

"She is a fantastic lover," Harry chuckled, "But anyway, we didn't come here to discuss that.
What can I do for you? Aside from just telling me you want the Runes, which I sort of
assumed."

Daphne suddenly looked a little more nervous, but Tracey went almost perfectly still. The
blonde witch swallowed, looked at her lover, then, red-faced once more, back at Harry, "I...
we understand that, to perform the- the ritual, one must... be of service. Orally, vaginally,
and... and anally."

Harry nodded, "That's right. Pretty sure we've covered that."

Another glance between them, "W- Well, we- we spoke to Parkin- Pansy about it, recently,
and... and she tells- she told- us that-"

"You don't have to be nervous, you know," Harry reminded her, "We're friends, aren't we? I'm
not going to judge you, Daphne, or you, Tracey. Just get it out."

She swallowed, nodded, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He watched Daphne try with
visible effort to relax. Thankfully, it seemed to help, for her eyes were bright and shining blue
again when they opened, even if her face was still a brilliant scarlet, "Neither of us have ever
had anything larger than a finger in our bums, and we'd... we both worry you would hurt us.
Without, um, p- preparation."

Harry smiled, "Oh. Is that all?"

"Is- all?" Daphne squeaked, "We- we're not..."

Harry kept chuckling as he shrugged off his robe and stood up, leaving it on the bed. He
pushed his trousers down next before removing the rest of his clothes so he was as naked as
Tracey was, "Take off your clothes, Daphne."

She spluttered, "But- but I'm not-"

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes... my Concubine," Harry growled. Not angrily, but in that tone he
knew would suggest that she should obey.

Not that their Contract, if and when it was signed or in effect, would force her to obey his
whims. But he still knew Daphne. She shuddered, and started disrobing the rest of the way.

While she did, Harry moved over to Tracey and, with a hand on her shoulders, turned her so
she faced the same way he did. Both watched her, the smaller body warm as it pressed
against him, the small of Tracey's back nestling his straining erection as he reached over her
shoulders to tease her taut, pebbled nipples.

Once the blonde was undressed too, Harry stepped away from them both, uncaring of his
wobbling cock or how the girls both stared at his increasingly muscular legs, back, and rear
as he moved behind the bed and to the long shelves of sex toys, which he really needed to get
around to having Dobby pack. But not just yet, "See, we have a wide array of things to help.
They've been charmed to be self-cleaning and -sterilizing, and they can be turned on or off
with a tap of a wand. Vibrating, warming, and so on. Lubrication is here- I wouldn't advise
putting anything up there when it's dry unless you're lubed yourself or quite experienced. So
just one question, then. Do you want to put them in each other, or should I do it for you?"

He watched with amusement as both Daphne and Tracey gulped, looked at each other
searchingly, then pointed at him, "You can do it."

He smiled, then reached up for a size one and a size three anal plug. He wasn't a master by
any means, but they were similar in shape to the tails he'd used with Ginny and Lavender the
evening before, so he figured he'd be alright, "The cone end goes inside, obviously. Rounded,
so it doesn't stab you. The flat part is to grip as it comes out. Just large enough you can feel it,
but not to be uncomfortable to sit on. I'm... I'm told it takes some getting used to, but if
you've worn one comfortably for a few hours in a stretch, you can probably go to the next
size up."

"I... I see," Daphne murmured, then reached for the larger of the two plugs, "May I-"

"Ah, no," Harry grinned, "I'll absolutely let you feel one- but this one's for Tracey. You need
the size one."

She spluttered again, and Tracey giggled.

"You do have a tighter arsehole," the smaller girl said.

Harry's grin felt like it would split his face in half at her embarrassment. Daphne was a good
six inches or more taller than her girlfriend, and the size difference in their plugs had seemed
so obvious.
"Come on, why don't one of you lay down on the couch on your back, and the other one get
on top of her. It'll help you relax if you snog for a bit."

He watched as Daphne assumed the lower position first, which he supposed made sense.
Tracey wouldn't crush the bigger girl if she lost motor control mid-orgasm, not that Daphne
was huge compared to her. He applied liberal lubricant from the tube to both anal plugs, and
made sure to smear it around while leaving a fair bit on his fingers. While they were
distracted with each other's mouths, he also made sure to wipe down the front of his cock.

He wasn't shagging their arses, but they might not be fully aroused when he was ready, so he
thought it'd be best to prepare. Just in case.

When he stepped behind the girls, they were breathing heavily, and Tracey was doing her
best to maul one of Daphne's breasts with her small hands. He looked down at the pink and
brown folds of the pair with a smile. Both were lesbians, or a lesbian and a bisexual who
generally preferred women, and he had been, and would be, the only man to ever fuck them.
Lilith might well do it too, he knew, but she was as much a part of him as he could wish for,
and thought nothing of sharing the two with her.

"Who's first?" he asked quietly, holding both plugs between the fingers of the same hand as
he got on his knees beneath them.

"I- I suppose I do need more practice," Daphne admitted.

"I don't know if a few seconds will make much difference," Harry pointed out, but he didn't
wait. With a smooth motion, he pushed the pinky-sized plug into her anus, and she squeaked
in surprise and discomfort. Then he tapped it twice with his finger, "You alright there,
Daphne? Not too big?"

"N- No," she moaned, "It's... it's about as big as... mm... it's just... it doesn't move."

"It will if I make it vibrate. Probably best just to get used to it like this, though. You sure the
size is okay?"
Tracey nodded for her, and looked down beneath their bodies, "I have used two of my fingers
in her anus. It is uncomfortable, but she can handle it. That seems smaller."

Harry acknowledged her statement with a nod of his own, "Alright, well, we'll stay with this,
then. I've read it's more the duration that causes a proper bit of training, so when it's not
uncomfortable any more, we'll upgrade. You ready, Tracey?"

The brunette nodded at once, "I wish to be filled."

He grinned as he knee-walked a little closer, "You want this plug in your arse, little one? And
my cock in your delicious, tight pussy?"

"Yes," Tracey moaned. The sound was drawn out, and turned into a nearly-pained groan as he
pushed the inch and a half-wide cone into her bum. Her anus closed around it with a faint
pop, and Harry leaned back for a moment to see the silver and rose-gold plugs as simple
circles shining from between both girls' rear cheeks.
"Now that's a good sight," he murmured. With a hand free, he started stroking his erection
idly, then rose back up a little higher, "Alright, now I know what you really came for, go
ahead and keep snogging. I'm going to fuck you now- both of you."

He pushed into Daphne first, gently and slowly, glad he'd thought to apply the lube. She was
clearly getting warmed up, and her body welcomed his dick easily, but she was not nearly as
wet as he was used to. The anxiety, or perhaps the discomfort, of the metallic shape in her
rear hole, was just enough to throw her off.

"Oh, Circe," Daphne moaned as he bottomed out, "It- it feels so different..."

Harry started moving after giving her several seconds to adjust, then reached up and around
to cup one of Daphne's full tits, giving it a soft massage. The other went between the girls
too, but this time to fondle Tracey's smaller chest. With her, he was a little rougher, but he
knew she enjoyed being manhandled as much as he liked doing it to her, so he didn't hold
back.

After ten strokes or so, Daphne was well and truly dripping, so Harry started fucking her
faster, and had to let go of her nipple. Instead, he used his hands to hold Tracey's petite body
as it bounced against him, her arse and pussy slapping against his chest as he fucked the girl
beneath her, with one hand on her waist. The other reached for his wand. Distracted, he took
a few tries to tap the shining anal plug, but the petite witch moaned in surprise and pleasure
as it started to hum and vibrate within her.

But Tracey didn't stop kissing her lover. Soon, almost too soon thanks to the strange, new
sensation of a small anal plug in her arse while Harry shagged her smoothly and confidently,
and Tracey made love to her with her hands and mouth, Daphne started climbing toward her
peak. She didn't even really have a chance to warn the others before it crested, her body
wracked with pleasure and pain as it had not been since the night Harry took her virginity.

When he withdrew, leaving her empty and hollow, and wanting nothing more than to have
him plug her up once more, Daphne knew she had made the right choice. He had been, and
still was, the perfect man for her and her girlfriend. The one to give her, them, children. To be
the father of their children, too. To be her all-but-husband, and who would not only let, but
encourage her to seek out other women to shag along with her girlfriend and their mutual
lover...

Then she felt Tracey buck over her, and knew Harry had slid inside her tiny body, too. How
the far more petite Tracey could hold his entire, massive dong she would never know, but it
was arousing just thinking about it.

With a pleased, satisfied grin, Daphne lifted her thighs to wrap around Harry and Tracey,
pulling them both further against her. She sighed as her lover's pussy, which Harry was
already pounding forcefully, bumped and grinded against her own. She reached around one
thigh to tug and twist her small plug, hoping the extra tension and pleasure would make her
next orgasm as spectacular as the last. Even if it wasn't, she knew it would be good- great,
even. And, like Tracey had done for her, Daphne devoted herself to worshiping her
girlfriend's mouth, her barely-present tits, her tender neck...
She lost track of time, and in the most glorious way.

So did Harry. All he knew for several minutes was the friction of Tracey's tight vagina
clutching at him, Daphne's writhing moans underneath her, the passions of both rising to a
boil along with his own.

Tracey started to gasp, and grew tighter still, and he felt overcome. Harry pulled himself free
at the last moment, then thrust forward between their sweating bodies. Daphne was already
grinding up into Tracey, forming a perfect, steaming-hot and slick sandwich for his cock to
form the meat of.

He'd never actually done this before, even though he'd read and dreamed about it a few times,
and the newness of it combined with the raunchiness of having both girl-lovers moaning in
front of him tipped Harry over the edge almost too fast for him to enjoy it.

The sound of the sticky squelching Tracey and Daphne's bodies made as they pulled apart a
few minutes later still had him stiff again for another round, though, "Alright, girls," he
ordered them as he tapped Daphne's plug to start it vibrating too, "why don't you lick each
other clean, and I'll eat you out to warm you up for more..."

It was a huge shock, but neither objected.

 Breaking Down

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

Hope you all have a Happy New Year!

 Chapter. 90: Breaking Down
More than a week before Harry would lead Ginny and Lavender, his two human Pets, around
the dungeon in their collars, the room had been the site of another rather interesting
conversation for Ginny Weasley. Since Harry had first shagged her, laid claim to her body,
her soul, out on the grounds of Hogwarts the previous year, her life had changed so
dramatically in ways she could not have even imagined months before.

She had known he was nearing the breaking point half-way through her fourth year, when her
old relatively quiet school term had been interrupted by overhearing Harry grumbling to
himself about wanking not satisfying him any more. A relatively insignificant event when
faced with the likes of Umbridge, Voldemort, and the whole of the Ministry coming after
Harry and his associates. He was a teenage boy, after all.

Wanking might be growing boring, but she already knew he, like all wizards his age, wanted
more than just that. At the time she hadn't even thought much of it, aside from the rather
lurid, vivid, images it had spawned for both day dreams, and the more nocturnal variety, of
her crush stroking himself to her, or on her, or in her. She'd even had the rare chance to give a
very qualified thank you to the shade of the sixteen-year-old Voldemort for awakening her
relatively young mind to matters of the flesh and sexuality. Nor had it escaped her notice that
this year, Harry was the same age Voldemort had been when he created that cursed Journal.

But the young Tom Riddle had been brutal, uncaring of the witches he used for his own
fleeting gratification. In comparison, Harry was kind, compassionate, had made her feel
loved and needed and wanted... and he had, somehow, known what she really needed.
Something about the young witch even she had not known and understood. She wanted to be
possessed, owned, claimed. Not cruelly, she was no slave, unlike Lavender who wanted
nothing more. But a Pet, yes, that was a good analogy for how she wanted her romantic life
to go. There to see to her Master's, her Owner's, happiness and joy... That was what brought
her joy, in return.

Since then, she had experienced an even larger sexual awakening. Even as a younger girl, she
thought of women, other girls included, as attractive. Now she knew why, thanks to
Hermione, Lilith, and Harry himself. She was, to use Hermione's muggle word, a true
pansexual. One with submissive tendencies that walked a careful tightrope with her
extroverted nature otherwise masking her true nature. The first time she had gone down on a
woman, her entire life had altered its course almost as significantly as it had when she and
Harry had first shagged. Then realizing she was attracted to Ron, too, had been another sharp
left turn in the course of her future.

Which was what led her to this moment.

The battle had ended not sixteen hours ago and Lilith was still unconscious, stuck in her
wounded, blood-drained true form. At the moment, Harry, Neville, Hannah Abbot, and a few
others were taking turns coating her in their sexual fluids as much as possible to help the
Succubus heal.
Ginny, Hermione, and Ron had taken their turns too, but at the moment were alone in the
dungeon that had become Harry's bedroom, while the Succubus was hopefully being healed
by the others in Pansy and Astoria's room.

Ron had done what he could, but at the moment, he needed help himself. He was still locked
inside the chitinous armor that had formed around him during the fight against Theodore
Nott, or the monster he had become. It wasn't so bad, he said. Her brother was not actually
injured in any meaningful way, despite a crushing series of blows to almost the exact same
spot he had been run through the chest at the battle of King's Cross over Yule.

What was wrong was that the shell, a part of him but external, something Hermione had
explained was rather like a very thick and hardened fingernail in makeup, was broken nearly
in two across his chest. It looked rather gruesome, though Ron repeatedly had told them it
didn't really hurt, and he wasn't bleeding through the largest crack. It was more that he
couldn't help Lilith much himself, because doing so- wanking over her, using her breasts or
hands, or whatever else to orgasm and cover her wounds in sexual fluids- required exertion,
and exertion was difficult because he could not take large breaths without constricting his
chest painfully.

Charlie had taken a short break from Hogwarts in his seventh year when she was eight. It had
been a special time for her, but he had been in pain quite a lot because one of the creatures
Professor Kettleburn had been showing them in Care of Magical Creatures had broken
several of Charlie's ribs. Ron remembered it too, and compared the feeling to exactly the
same sensation their older brother had described, only without the agonizing pain.

Hermione stood up from the couch to walk around Ron, a finger tapping her lips thoughtfully.
He stood in front of Ginny, between the couch and Harry's bed, and tried not to react too
much as she moved, "The problem," the older witch muttered, "is that none of the rest of us
are capable of changing anything about our bodies like that. It's not Transfiguration, or I
would think I'd be able to change you back. Harry's shape-shifting isn't the same, or you'd be
able to revert using the effort of will he described. I wonder if we should contact Tonks..."

"I don't see how it would help," Ginny told her, shifting her position to lay idly over the
couch now that she was its sole occupant, "Ron's never been a metamorph, and she doesn't
really know how she changes either. I asked her about it last Christmas, remember? At
dinner?"

"Oh, that's right," Hermione nodded. Her frown deepened, and she continued circling Ron,
her eyes moving up and down his mostly-naked form as she looked for other signs of
damage, or some other clue that might indicate how they could help him shift back.

Ginny stretched, and rolled onto her back. As she relaxed afterward, she noticed Ron's eyes
watching her, and a distinct bulge starting to grow more visible in his underpants. She should
have been embarrassed, shocked, outraged even, that her perverted older brother was
enjoying seeing her body that much. It wasn't like she was even really putting on a show, she
and Hermione were fully dressed aside from their discarded robes, which were hardly
necessary now that the day's testing was done.
But she wasn't. She had shown him much more than that, after all, and been glad for it.
During Yule when Harry and Hermione had stayed with their respective guardians, the two
had been the only ones in the larger group available to help each other deal with their
increasingly powerful urges. For almost two weeks, they had traded each other digital or oral
stimulation to get the release they both needed desperately on at least a daily basis until
someone had heard them while they were 'collecting eggs for breakfast' in the hen-house.

That hadn't even been the first time they had done it, the two had been flirting with the
subject, taboo as it was, for weeks before that with Harry's quiet but eager consent, and,
according to him, Hermione's tacit approval as well.

But she couldn't shag him, that would be weird. Even if she wanted to, and she knew he
wanted her, too. Not without... well, some things changing, at least.

Ginny Weasley grinned as she realized the bulge her brother sported had gotten worse, and
his long, slender rod was now peeking out of his shorts. With a teasing smile, she met his
eyes, then licked her lips. Hermione's back was turned as she reached for one small breast,
then gave it a squeeze.

Ron mouthed, "You suck," as his erection grew to full mast.

Of course Hermione, observant girl that she was, didn't miss the detail as she came back
around to the front, the soft golden glow in her eyes telling the other two that she was using
her own Succubus-granted ability to look at the magic surrounding and infusing her brother,
"Of course, Ron... I'm just looking at your new shell, and you start to get ideas. Aren't you the
one who said it's hard to exert yourself with that thing pushing on your chest?"

"Blame Ginny," Ron protested, "She's being a tease."

The older witch turned a gimlet eye to the younger, "She is, is she?"

Ginny's grin widened as she adopted the most innocent-looking expression of confusion she
had learned from the twins, "Who, me? I'm just stretching."

Hermione let out a soft snort and turned away, "For some reason, I don't believe you. No
offense Ginny, but if Fred and George can't put one past me that way, you can't either."

"Ouch, I'm hurt," the red-head laughed, putting a hand over her chest, "You think I'm worse
at fibbing than those two? Ouch."

"Maybe not worse," Hermione chuckled, "but just as bad at it. And calm down, Ron. That
thing's distracting when I'm trying to concentrate."

The sole wizard in the room rolled his eyes, "I would, but, you know, runes. It's kind of hard
to just 'calm down' these days without an orgasm."

"Of course it is," Hermione replied, "but you'll have to try, because it hurts to exert yourself,
right? Makes it hard to breathe?"

"Yeah..."
Ginny couldn't resist the temptation, "Sorry, brother dear. Apparently you'll have to wait to
get a chance to cover one of us with your creamy goodness. No fun for you. Or... or..." She
trailed off.

Hermione and Ron both looked at her expectantly for several seconds, before the bushy-
haired girl resumed her slow circle around him.

"What if... what if that's what he needs?" Ginny whispered.

"I don't follow," Ron replied after a moment.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked around his too-tall shoulder with wide eyes, "Like Lilith
herself?"

"Maybe," Ginny nodded, levering herself to a sitting position again, "Think about it. She
needs fluids to use her healing power, so we have to cover her in it. This isn't the same power,
I know, but maybe... maybe Ron can't shift back because he doesn't have the magical energy
to fuel the reversion?"

"It is a Succubus ability," Hermione muttered, turning her glance back to her boyfriend's even
taller, bulkier, shelled body, "She called it Hellhide. Harry said she described her own healing
power as Auto-erotic Healing. But... it does make sense. Even different powers could use the
same energy source, just like magic can fuel different effects. I wonder if that would... work.
Tell me again how you created the armor, Ron."

He shrugged, then winced as it pulled on the crack, making the two halves of the shell on his
torso grind together, "I didn't, really. I mean, I wanted to stop Nott from hurting Harry. I- I
was just gonna shove him out of the way, take the hit myself. And the shell just... kind of
grew out of me. Came from my tear ducts first, and it felt... well, weird. Then just... sorta
came outa' my skin, all over."

Hermione frowned, glancing up at the horns he sported, a wide, many-pronged rack as

opposed to Lilith's more curved Ram's horns in that form. They did look like they had grown
from the temples, and a small bit of them circled his brow and under his eyes as
reinforcement, no doubt.

"After that, it was all just... really fast. By the time I got in between Nott and Harry, it was
already there, and it hardened in the blink of an eye. I was as surprised as anyone, really. The,
uh, horns finished growing last."

"Hm," Hermione mused, and reached up a hand to run a few fingers along the shell, "The
aura around it is slightly different than your normal one, and when I touch it, it ripples, but
only along the shell itself. It's darker, but lighter- more like your natural aura color- in the
waves. I'm not sure what it means, but it definitely reacts to touch. I'm not sure what that
means, though. Or how it would help. The, erm, the fluids, I mean."

Ginny shrugged and reached down to pull her jumper over her head, "Well, if you're okay
with it, I'm going to try something."
"And what's that?" Hermione asked.

Ginny grinned. She knew that Hermione knew they had been intimate, she'd even seen it,
been present for it. But this kind of brazen advance was going to be something new, "I'm
going to go down on you while Ron lays on the bed, and you're over him. I want to see if
your juices help."

Hermione glanced back and forth between the two for a moment with a pensive expression,
then nodded, "If that'll help... I suppose at this point it can't hurt." She started undressing
efficiently, tossing her clothes to the couch as Ron moved toward the bed.

"Wait, actually," Ginny stopped him with a hand on his chitin-covered bicep, her blouse now
half-unbuttoned, "Let's do it on the couch. That way you won't have to support either of us
and strain your chest-plates."

She thought her reasoning was a little flimsy, but both Ron and Hermione nodded. Soon, Ron
was stretched out across the couch, long enough his knees had to bend a little with his head
nudged up against the other arm rest. After Ginny had taken everything off and stepped out of
her white, lacy knickers, she stepped up behind Hermione and leaned in to nuzzle the witch's
neck through her mane of wavy hair. Her arms slid around the girl's body too, cupping and
hefting each of her breasts, which she knew was something Ron himself did frequently to get
Hermione in the mood if she wasn't already.

These days, it didn't take much more than that before even the studious young woman started
breathing a little more heavily. When she was undressed too, Hermione slowly walked
forward, just enough to lead Ginny on, then lifted a curvy leg to throw it over Ron's head and
shoulders, "I'm not sure this'll work, Gin, there's not a lot of-"

"It'll work," the red-head interrupted, letting go of one of her best friend's glorious
mammaries to come around her to the side a bit, "But you should turn around. Face his cock,
Hermione."

"We can't sixty-nine, though," the other woman protested, "It'll make him start to bend, and
that could hurt him."

"Oh, I think he'll be fine with a little bit of pain, given what we're about to do," Ginny said
with a smile, "Trust me- just sit on his face for now, let him get you warmed up for me. Ron,
you should just scoot down a bit, give her legs some room."

Even with his own knees bent nearly in half, Hermione's weight on that side was almost fully
on one knee, but thankfully the back of the couch was close enough she had plenty of support
by using her hand. Once she was in place, the older woman sank down onto her boyfriend's
mouth and sighed as he, lust fogging his eyes, started licking away at once.

Ginny let a hand drift down her body to her crotch and started rubbing in slow, gentle circles
while she watched him eat out one of her best friends for more than three minutes. Then she
shrugged, "Eh, you're passable, Ron, but you should really watch and learn from the master
one of these days."
"Never complained before," the wizard grunted from between Hermione's legs.

Ginny only shrugged as she stepped closer, then ran a hand down the freckled chest, "You
can get me off, but that's honestly not all that hard. Hermione eats pussy better than you."

"I'm a girl, I know what's good," Hermione chuckled, though it turned to a sigh as her
boyfriend suckled on her labia, "But don't be mean, he's pretty g-good."

"Sure," Ginny agreed, as she reached down to slip a finger down Ron's long shaft to his balls.
Then she cupped them, wiggling her fingers back and forth for a moment, before taking a
more solid grip at the base and giving him a few short pumps, "Pretty good. Not as good as
Harry, or me. And I know you have a bit of a complex about that, Ron, so listen when I say
this. I'm willing to show you, teach you, how to be even better. If you want. You have to ask
though."

Ron was quiet for several seconds aside from the sound of him slurping at Hermione's tender
folds, the plates on his chest slowly moving apart and together as his breathing increased.
Ginny watched that more than her hand on him, mostly in an effort to make sure he wasn't
getting too aroused. At least, not too quickly. She had some doubts about her plan, but the
largest was definitely Ron's health. As much as she was doing this because she wanted to,
and thought they all did in some way, it was to heal him more than anything else. Hurting
him in the process, while it might be necessary, was something to be avoided if possible.

Hermione watched her stroking Ron with some fascination, which made Ginny's smile return.
It was hardly the first time, and Hermione knew it. She'd seen her go down on the young man
before, even. Something about this time seemed to make things even better, though, "What,
Hermione? Do you like seeing me stroke his cock?"

Hermione's face turned scarlet and she looked away, then back with a more firm glint in her
eyes, "It- It has its appeal, yes."

"Then you'll probably like seeing this, too," Ginny whispered, and threw her leg over Ron's
thighs. She didn't mount him. She was not ready for that. Instead, she made sure Hermione
could see quite plainly that she wasn't, with her pelvis just above Ron's knees. Her hands left
his rod then, and she played both over the thin red line of fur that moved up his belly to the
slowly growing patch on his chest. She traced circles and lines with her nails, roughly
following the course of the Runes Lilith had applied not so very long ago, though it felt like
weeks and weeks.

Ginny wanted to watch Hermione's pussy get mauled by Ron's tongue, but it was more
important, at least for now, that she watch the other girl's face as she leaned down, lower and
lower, until she was parallel with Ron.

Hermione's brown eyes got wider the lower she got, and the gasped as she saw Ginny's
slender form touch Ron's dick. Ginny did too, he was scorching hot and the erection, thick
and nubbed like a decent reproduction of Lilith's Succubus girl-cock and even longer, if not
as thick, touched from her navel to her collarbone as she lay against it, "Mmm... that feels
really good against me, Ron," she murmured, "Is... does it hurt? Should I get back up?"
In response, the armored wizard thrust his hips upward, careful not to slide his chest too
much, and the cock moved with it, a full three inches, until the tip bumped her chin, "It feels
really good, actually," the muffled voice came.

"Ginny," Hermione moaned, and for a moment the ginger felt a bit of regret that she couldn't
lift her head high enough to watch her best friend's expression as she slithered up and down,
dragging herself over Ron's shaft as it followed the contours of her slender body between the
valley of her breasts, "What are... What are you doing?"

"He needs to cum," Ginny reminded her reasonably, "and we know he's a pervert. Sure, you
could shag him, but he might cum in you, and then it'll be harder to get it out. I figure, this
way, he can finish faster- you and I both know he can't resist me- and it'll be spot-on for aim."

"But... but he's..."

"I've done more than this, remember? Remember when I sucked him off in front of you,
licked your own squirt off of him? I've licked him out of you, too. This is just my tits and my
chest, Hermione."

"It's still amazing," Ron groaned, "And it feels really good."

"Glad you like my titties, Ron," Ginny chuckled, then shifted up a little higher to press a kiss
to Hermione's belly just above her slit, "Sorry, Hermione... you might have to let Ron get you
off, I can't quite... reach. I guess I'll just focus on coaxing out his delicious, hot, sticky cum..."

She giggled as the young man beneath her gave a harder thrust, bucking up against her. He
winced, his whole torso tensing, as it pulled on the chest plates, and Ginny slapped his
armored shoulder, "Stop moving so much, dummy. Let me do most of the work."

"But I-"

"No buts," Hermione groaned, and Ginny looked up to see her grinding her crotch against
Ron's face now, "You should stay mostly still. Just move your mouth, your lips, and your
hips. Once you've- once you sprayed all over her and yourself, we can talk about you moving
more."

"Listen to Hermione," Ginny added, "She's almost always right. Anyway, Ron... how does it
feel? Knowing it's me?"

He didn't answer for several seconds, and she actually saw his currently clawed hands come
up around Hermione's thighs to hold her in place, probably for his own safety, before his
muffled voice said, "Really wish I could- could do more. But it's good."

"More?" Ginny pretended to sound shocked, "More than sliding this long rod against my
chest? More than me trying to get you to spurt out your semen all... over... both... of us?"

"Ginny," Hermione warned, but anything else she was going to say went unfinished.

"What? I'm just trying to get him to climax faster," she murmured huskily, "Anything to help
Ron heal a bit faster, right?"
"You- but you can't... you can't," Hermione moaned, and pushed a pair of fingers through her
folds, spreading herself open for Ron's dashing, dancing tongue.

"Can't what? I've already done it in my head... I've wanted to for a while. What's so bad about
it? You already know... you know nothing would happen."

"But he's your..."

"I know," Ginny finished as the older witch trailed off. One hand came up to push Hermione's
pelvis back so she could see Ron's face, which glistened with her best friend's fluids, "Ron...
don't you want to fuck me?"

That was enough. Without further warning, her teasing and the last few words sent him over
the edge. She felt the pulses of semen blast up the long shaft one after the other, as they hit
her ribcage, her sternum, and then out to land like bullets against the bottom of her chin.
Then her hand was there, catching more of it as she sat up, one hand pumping the pole
rapidly while the other caught and guided the goop.

She slipped the dripping, slimy substance against Ron's chest after he finished, and
immediately set his attention back to making Hermione go over the edge, just as he had.
Ginny was very close herself, despite not having had any direct stimulation of her own pussy.
Her fingers carefully guided his semen into the cracks, including gathering up the dripping
remains from her chin and chest. When she was finished, the crack was mostly filled in with
his virile leavings, but Ginny knew deep in her heart it wouldn't be enough. Not like this,
anyway.

But there was more she could do, that they could do, "Don't move, Ron," she ordered him,
then slid up until she was straddling his waist, and lowered herself onto his still-hard, ribbed
length. He groaned along with her as the folds parted to nestle around him, "Merlin," she
gasped.

Hermione's eyes were rapt as she watched Ginny frot herself on him, sliding slowly back and
forth to add her own glistening liquid to the process.

Then Ginny leaned forward, and pressed her mouth to Hermione's. At once, the older witch's
lips parted for her tongue, and the two danced together furiously, ravenously, as Ginny lifted
a hand to pull on one of the girl's pink nipples.

"G- Ginny..."

"I know you're turned on by it," the younger witch moaned into the older's mouth, "You want
me to do it too, don't you? Want me to ride him... to take him deep inside me, as far as I can
go. You want to watch his face as he does it, watch me as he brings me to- to the heights of
pleasure."

Her breath had hitched as Ron reached around her own slender hips and cupped her slim,
almost boyish arse. Then he dipped one finger lower to brush against the entrance of her
body.
"He's touching me there, you know," Ginny moaned again, and sped up her gyrations on
Ron's length, "touching the spot he would dig into, thrust into... just like he does with you.
Wouldn't he go so deep, into little old me? Especially like this. He'd be up in my belly,
wouldn't he?"

"He probably would," Hermione moaned, "But it's so..."

"Wrong, and so good," Ginny added, "It's so good it's gonna make me cum, Hermione, just
like you want to. Come here- come grind on this lovely shaft with me! You don't mind, right,
Ron?"

"Not at all," her brother grunted, then let out a little whimper of pain as Hermione's awkward,
hasty movement jostled the chest-plates, "Fuck, that's so hot, having both of you right- oh- oh
Merlin, I think I might just cum again!"

"Do it," Hermione gasped, her own pelvis suddenly moving in time with Ginny's as they
rocked back and forth up and down Ron's body. She looked over her shoulder and down at
him, "Cum for us, Ron! Cum on mine and Ginny's pussies! Cum for us, because I'm
cumming, too!"

He wasn't Harry, who could climax on demand, and he had just done it a couple of minutes
earlier, but Ron Weasley had never been so aroused as he was at that moment, with the two
beautiful witches both grinding their pussies against his length madly, as if he were inside
both of them at once.

He spurted, and the waves of heat and pressure touched off first Ginny, then Hermione, and
for several long minutes they seemed locked in a repeating crescendo of pleasure, with one
person's ecstasy touching off another, and another in turn.

It did not escape Ginny's notice, at least, that Hermione's own squirting climax had coated the
chest-plates, too, and that their passion echoed throughout the room in palpable waves as the
three of them slowly came down from the orgasm.

When Hermione slid, almost bonelessly, to kneel on the floor beside the couch with her full,
heavy tits heaving, she watched in fascination as Ginny leaned down once more, this time to
tenderly kiss Ron. First on the mouth, catching both of the others by surprise, and then lower,
above his collarbone. She traced a line down the break with her lips, and as she did, her love
mingled with their combined fluids, and slowly, but visibly, the crack began to seal.

"Told you it'd work," Ginny said as she sat up, sweating, grinning, "And Ron?"

"Hmm?" he asked, amazed, watching his new shell heal itself before his very eyes, even
though he had two stunning witches there to look at instead.

"I meant every word."

That made him look up, his eyes wide once more.
 A Double-Healing Potion

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

Ch ap. 91: A Double-Healing Potion

Ron and Pansy, both red-faced and sweaty from exertion, left Harry's bedroom to the amused,
tired eyes of Hermione, Ginny, Lavender, Hannah, Neville, and Harry himself. For nearly
two full days, ever since the battles in Hogsmeade, at the castle gates, and inside Hogwarts
itself concluded, the group as a whole had been shagging or pleasuring themselves non-stop
over Lilith's comatose body.

It was an interesting experience for most of them at first, deliberately covering the Succubus
in as many doses of their emotionally-charged sexual fluids as they could.

The problem for most of them, Harry had deduced after nearly two days, was that their fluids
just weren't emotionally charged enough. They all liked Lilith, and he was fairly certain that
Hermione and Ginny, if not the others too, were falling in love with the Succubus in their
own way as well. That helped, but she was still just.. there.

More like a piece of furniture than a person, and certainly not a participant in whatever they
were doing.

It was hard to feel emotion toward an object in the room when you were shagging or wanking
or whatever else. Even if Harry personally found the alien, even classically demonic
appearance of Lilith's true form strangely alluring, it was getting increasingly difficult for his
normally very randy self to even reach orgasm, much less do it with feeling.

Of course, as he had the realization that they simply weren't being passionate enough toward
her, that was what Lilith's nature as a Succubus truly craved after all, the fluids being only a
vehicle to carry the emotional energy from one place to another, the solution presented itself.
At least, he hoped it was a solution.
Shagging on, over, and around, Lilith was all well and good, and he was sure it wouldn't hurt
her. In fact, if she were conscious, he was sure his Pet would be ecstatic to be covered in cum
so regularly and for such a prolonged period. Over their bond, weakened though it was, he
could feel her getting stronger... but it was a slow process, barely noticeable moment to
moment. There was too a visible change in her body, the two puncture marks on Lilith's neck,
the smallest and yet most grievous of the injuries she had sustained against the vampiress two
days earlier, had mostly closed up, they were barely pinpricks now. The larger lashes and
lacerations, however, including her broken, shattered wing joints, had remained unhealed.

Literal gallons of semen and girl-squirt hadn't done the job, even though her body had
absorbed it like a dry sponge with water.

But Harry knew what he had to do next.

Harry stood up slowly, and the eyes of most of those in the common area of his quarters
moved to him. The majority of the group wasn't even fully dressed. After six or more rounds
each over the last two days, everyone but Daphne and Tracey, who had done a couple of
rounds each in private, had decided not to bother and were wearing less and less. Ron and
Neville were just in their underpants, and half the witches were in knickers, the others in
knickers and bra alone. Harry himself wasn't dressed at all, since he had used the gifts of his
Succubus to take a turn trying to heal her between every other attempt. Even his impressive
length and almost perpetually-hard cock was only at half-mast despite the exposed flesh of
the beautiful young women around him. He blamed over-use, not that it was really an excuse
for him, the Contractor of a Succubus.

Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't perform if he wanted to. He certainly would be, soon
enough. Still, even though he had gone between every other single or pair, triple, or quad of
people that had taken a turn with the Succubus, something about his demeanor had all eyes
on him as Harry stood this time. He acknowledged their looks with a glance at each of them
in turn, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "It's working, I can feel it... but it's too
slow. We have to- I have to- do something different."

"What, though?" Ron asked, no doubt voicing what was on everyone's mind.

Harry could only shrug and say quietly, "I have an idea. I just have to... I have to think it'll
work. Give me some time with her. Just us, for now. I'll... I'll call if I need more."

"Alright," Hermione nodded, "We trust you, Harry."

He smiled at each of them, including Luna who was sleeping, exhausted from her own
Herculean efforts to heal her dream-friend, draped over one of the armchairs, "I don't know if
I'll be done by dinner, but if not, I'll call an Elf. Don't need to wait up. You, uh... might want
to take a few turns in the showers before you head out, though. A few of us are starting to get
rank."

"Gross," Ginny giggled weakly, then lifted her armpit and lowered her head, "Even if you're
right. Go get her, Harry. Bring our girl back."
With a nod, hoping he projected confidence he didn't truly feel, Harry turned away as they
started discussing who would get the two showers in the quarters first.

Inside his bedroom, Lilith still lay awkwardly on her side, the more broken wing laying over
the one with only one large but simple fracture on the far side of his bed. The sheets were
damp with the collective efforts of the group over the last forty or so hours of activity, but
Lilith herself, aside from being slightly sticky, was as dry as a desert. Abnormal, he knew, for
her usually soft skin.

As he looked at her beaten and battered body, Harry found it a little difficult to summon
enough of the passion he was sure was required. Shagging her sleeping body was more than a
little appealing to him though. Something akin to the old days of the previous year, when he
would regularly have Lilith dose one girl or another with Fog of Lust to strongly 'encourage'
girls to shag him. The sense of power, of dominance, the act had given him then, no matter
the guilt he felt later, had been a powerful lure to do it again and again.

Using a sleeping woman for his pleasure was not something Harry had done before, though
he had thought about it once or twice. The idea lent the same sort of thrill of power to him,
but he didn't have to consciously remind himself to know that there was more to it this time
that was stretching his once-flagging dick to a throbbing strain as he looked her over. The
chitin armor, similar to Ron's, over her chest was built, or had evolved, in such a way that it
could lower, and her breasts were on full display, as he knew she would prefer most of the
time if their society would let her get away with it. Someone besides Harry had been playing
with her pussy too, because it was slightly engorged and swollen as if it had been slapped a
few times.

Yes... they, his friends, had definitely had fun around Lilith, and probably gotten a little
closer from time to time, but as he gently shifted one leg to open her up a little more, he
doubted anyone had actually shagged her. He certainly hadn't, as he had not wanted to risk
further damage to her wings. But she could heal that. The damage, while severe and probably
even permanently crippling for a normal, biological creature, even a magical one, could be
easily recovered from by her, given time, Lilith was just not built like them.

Their many conversations on the subject of her existence, her people, her culture and species,
even her world had made that clear. She definitely had a body, but it was not a body like any
species native to their plane of existence that Harry had ever heard of. If anything, she most
resembled a colony organism made up of single-celled parts that could change and adapt at
will to fit a variety of needs. It was her soul itself that Lilith was, the body, even more than
was the case with a human, was simply a shell to contain it. If nothing else, Body
Morphology, the same skill he had gained from her at the Contractor equivalent to a second
Rune-set ritual, would help her rebuild it.

He hoped. There were, unfortunately, no guarantees.

That didn't mean he wanted to hurt her, of course, and he would avoid all damage if he could.
But somehow, Harry doubted that was going to be possible.

With an almost sad sigh, Harry set himself to the course of action he suspected would be the
only thing that could possibly pull Lilith out of whatever comatose state she was in aside
from time and a very great deal of the same process they had been doing for two days
straight.

He started with a hand on his own body, which was slightly sticky due to old sweat too. The
hand started on his belly and dropped to his cock swiftly, he was in no mood to play around.
A little bit of warm-up wasn't going to hurt, though, and it did still feel good to touch himself,
even if the whole reason he'd summoned Lilith a bit more than a year ago was because he
was sick and tired of wanking five times a day.

The young wizard also knew a lot more about his body and sexuality in general now. Lilith
wanking him, Hermione and Ginny both practicing on him, and later the other girls doing the
same had taught Harry a great deal about how a hand could be used to stimulate a dock in
delightful and sensuous ways, many times more varied than a simple up-and-down stroke.
This time, he did give the upper half, all his hand would cover at its current size, a solid grip
but ran the pad of his thumb up and down over the thick, swollen cap while the pointer finger
rubbed up and down the hollow, softer spot just below his frenulum.

His other hand went to Lilith's bod, where he trailed the tips of his fingers down her shoulder
and arm, then dipped to her wide, armored hips to follow the softer lines of her waist back up
to the torso armor, over the joints between the shell and the softer parts of the Succubus’
body, and the side of her exposed tits. He stopped there to give one side a tease and to pull on
her darker violet nipple while he kept rubbing himself. Once he'd given her a few squeezes
just to watch how her armor interacted with the Succubus' breasts as they hung to the side,
Harry let his hand drift further up her neck to circle it briefly. Not to choke, though he knew
she sometimes enjoyed that sort of play, but just to hold her there, where she was tender. The
Succubus' skin was pliant, if a bit dry, and the grip alone was enough to open her jaw and lips
slightly.

Enough that, for a moment, Harry felt his hope rise astronomically. Was she regaining
consciousness, if she moved...?

But no, he realized... it was just natural leverage as he pulled a little on her flesh. The sight
gave him an idea for later, though, and it was one that excited Harry enough that he was sure
he was going to do it.

From her throat, Harry's hand drifted along her jaw, then to her mouth, where he pushed one
finger in and out a few times. Yes... he was definitely going to be doing that. Even without
her participation, the sight of Lilith sucking on his finger, unaware of what she was doing,
was a great turn-on. From her mouth, he lifted the hand to run down her disheveled, violent-
pink locks and ran his fingers through them a few times in a vain attempt to get them to some
sense of their normal neat, if wavy, appearance.

It was odd to him, he realized, how natural Lilith's pink hair was as it fell to her shoulders,
entirely straight, in his preferred form with just a little bob at the end. Yet, in Ron's version of
that, older, bustier and curvier, there was a little bit of wave to it, and in this form, her natural
one, the hair was as thick and wild as Iris's or Lyra's, which was only exceeded by
Hermione's hair in her youth. All three seemed quite normal and natural on her, despite being
quite different. Much like the rest of her appearance, he supposed. She felt the same to him,
no matter what she looked like, across their bond and in his growing empathic ability.
With another sigh, this one mingled regret, frustration, impatience, and arousal all at once,
Harry reluctantly let go of his dick to reach over the Succubus with both arms, then change
his mind. Instead, he walked around the bed to come at the problem from the opposite side,
and using someone's discarded wand, Harry levitated the Succubus as smoothly as he could
into the air, taking care not to let her limbs dangle, especially not her wings.

Once she was airborne, Harry reached out to the more damaged one first, and carefully
twisted it, wincing every time the joints popped or the breaks ground against each other, until
it was almost fully extended toward him. Only at the end, when he was about to let go, did
Lilith react with a pained moan, "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, as a muted but still quite
sharp sensation of pain filtered through their bond. It almost felt as if she were drugged,
sedated, with the delay and haziness of it.

But once her shattered wing was more or less back in place, it was easier to circle the bed
once more and, with a quick twist, snap the other wing into place too. His Succubus
whimpered then, an actual sound, and he looked toward her face to see it set into a grimace,
though even that relaxed quickly, "Poor darling," he murmured, reaching out to caress her
jaw once then leaning in to kiss her sideways while she hovered in the air over his bed,
"Don't worry... I'm going to set you right. I know it hurts. I know it probably will hurt, but I'll
do everything I can."

It was a struggle, but he was able to maintain concentration on the Levitation Charm while he
used the wand- Pansy's, he thought, and Ron must have reamed her arse ridiculously hard to
make her forget such an important implement- to cast a Cushioning Charm as powerfully as
he could beneath the Succubus, then lowered her from the first onto the second.

Harry smiled as he saw that the Succubus was indeed, as he had hoped, suspended in the air
about four inches over the bed. Just enough room, he saw, for her wings to rest on the bed
with a little bit of mobility, but not enough, he hoped, to jar or twist them. He would have to
be gentle, but he could do that. He would certainly do that for Lilith, who Harry realized yet
again he had fallen completely for. It was painfully obvious now, after being without her
smile, her sarcastic sense of humor, and general good cheer, her knowledge and sheer
perversity too for a mere two days that he was very much in love with her.

And it was time to show her.

Even if how he was going to do that was something was a little unorthodox, and probably
frowned upon by polite society.

With the Succubus supine on the bed, Harry climbed carefully up over the Succubus' head,
glad he had thought far enough forward that he had plenty of space to place his feet, and then
his knees as he came down over her armored torso to kneel with a leg on either side, "I hope
you enjoy this as much as I will, my love, because even though I adore your smaller form,
these tits are spectacular, and I've always wanted to fuck them like this."

He pumped forward carefully at first, using the same now-familiar motions he would use to
ease a girl's pussy into stretching for his size. Harry watched Lilith's face carefully for any
signs of discomfort, but found none. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, she actually seemed more
relaxed than she had been any other time he had worked to dump his fluids all over her
wounded body. He smiled, taking it as a good sign, "I love your tits so much," Harry
chuckled as he reached down with both hands to hold the pink-skinned mountains of tissue
around his cock like a sleeve, "I love you, and I love your body. No matter what it looks
like."

He started humping faster, enjoying how the firm but pliable flesh around his shaft bounced
and jiggled as he moved back and forth, but stayed mindful not to thrust too hard. He didn't
want to hurt her wings or jostle any of the other myriad injuries the vampire had inflicted
during the battle.

After a minute or two of what Lyra, Lilith's school-girl persona for the year called paizuri,
Harry let go of one breast to reach up and open the Succubus' mouth. Then he pushed two
fingers in, as far as they would go to the back of her throat, and made sure to slide along her
tongue as he did.

Lilith moaned again in response, and for a moment, once more, Harry let himself hope. That
hope brightened when he felt her tongue twitch against his fingers, but it was so brief a
motion that he told himself he was probably imagining it, and kept up his thrusts.

Slow and gentle, for ten minutes or more, Harry fucked the demon-bodied Succubus' chest,
his attention evenly divided between the task itself, repeating in his mind and across their
bond how much he loved Lilith and why over and over, maintaining the Cushioning Charm
that now supported them both, and building up the most intense, and largest, load he had ever
given anyone.

Succubi thrived on sex, and Lilith in particular seemed to enjoy it every bit as much as Harry
did. He had thought that just having most of his coterie, his found family, constantly
shagging around Lilith would be enough. And it would be, eventually, he was sure.

But he loved her, and he knew- knew it beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, because he
felt it, that she loved him, too. And it was the intensity of that emotion that she needed.
Whatever prison his Succubus found herself in, be it of the mind, the soul, the body, or some
combination thereof, he knew she needed to feel his love as much as the sex itself. And
because he loved her, and she him, Harry knew equally powerfully that she wanted what he
was doing. Craved it, needed it like air, only at an even more primal level.

He climaxed with a powerful rush, his cock swelling to three full inches in width to
accommodate the flood of semen that gushed out of him. He could smell it at once despite the
strength of an orgasm that numbed his entire body with absolute pleasure, potent and thick
enough to overpower the already pungent odor of sex that clung in the room at all times, and
had been especially thick the last two days.

Semen spurted out by the cup full, splashing against Lilith's jaw, sticky and creamy between
her breasts, lubricating his rigid rod as it slid up and down spasmodically, and ran by the
bucket down her body and face to drench and blanket the mattress, even running out onto the
first, smallest patagium between the fingers of its structure.

Like her body had done every other time any of them had orgasmed on or near her since the
battle, Lilith's body siphoned up the semen like a dying man in the desert who has found an
oasis at last. Wings popped and snapped once more as, somehow, this more intense and larger
load did what a hundred regular ones could not. Lacerations closed, at least partially, and
bruises faded from deep purple to a more lavender color, only a few shades darker than her
normal skin-tone.

And over their bond, relief. Nothing more, no thoughts or words or even defined emotions.
Only relief, from pain, from worry, fear, and worst of all, loneliness.

It was a feeling Harry knew all too well from his own life, though knowing his Succubus had
been suffering, even for just a couple of days, in the same sort of horror he had known before
he had met her, or Hermione and Ron and Hagrid, saddened him almost too much to bear.

But she was not alone, and neither was he. He and she would never be alone again. Not if he
had anything to say about it. He would find a way to keep her. In fact, as Harry stood up and
repositioned himself facing the other way to shove his still-hard, cum-dripping cock into
Lilith's throat, he told her as much, "I'm keeping you forever, my love," he whispered, "I'll
find a way to break the contract and keep you if I have to. I'll go back to your world and fight
them all, if I must. I'll do whatever it takes, break any law of man or magic to keep you.
Because I love you, and you belong to me. I need you to know how much... When I give you
this load, swallow it all, my dearest Succubus, wife of my heart. Take it into you, and heal. I
need you back. I need you to be yourself again, not a lump of flesh for my pleasure. I want all
of you."

This time, with her wings largely healed, Harry let the Cushioning Charm relax slowly,
dribbling away his concentration on it until they were both resting on the bed while he slid in
and out of Lilith's impossibly tight, long throat. Twelve full inches of cock, still bulged thick
from the earlier load, went in and out smoothly despite her unconsciousness, as if Lilith's
body was accommodating him even without her will.

The extra focus was devoted to building another load, faster but stronger. Memories flashed
through his mind, starting with the first time he had been given a blow-job by the Succubus,
before he had lost his virginity to Daphne Greengrass, then came back to seal the deal with
Lilith herself. From there, Hermione's first time with him, or any man, granted assisted by the
Fog of Lust, and how exciting it had been not just to be intimate with his best friend whom he
loved, but know Lilith was watching, too. How excited Lilith had been when Harry had
orgasmed into Pansy's shocked, horror-filled face that first time. Up at the burrow, when
Fleur Delacour had watched him hold his tiny Succubus upside down and face-fuck her while
he sat on the edge of his bed, licking at her delicious, bare pussy. And finally just the other
day when she had happily gone down on him with Luna.

The climax was indeed larger, and it took more than a minute and a half, even with his
increased size, for the semen to finish coming out. Harry stayed buried in Lilith's slender
throat the whole time, feeling it with one hand while his cock flexed and worked more and
more out. Her belly was swollen and distended beneath the armor, which creaked with the
pressure of it, when he was done.

Even so, Harry watched the bulge slowly decrease as he withdrew from her oral cavity, but
no sign of his semen was left on his cock, or came out with it.
In fact, by the time he had positioned himself between Lilith's double-kneed legs, her belly
was as taut and flat as it ever was, "Hungry, I see," he chuckled lovingly, then leaned down
over her to press a kiss to the soft, purple lips he had just been enjoying as they sheathed his
erection, "Don't worry... I can feel you waking up. I'm going to feed you so well, my beloved
Lilith. I think... I think I've got the perfect way to do it, in fact."

He sat up on his knees again and hiked Lilith's upper knees beneath his elbows, holding her
legs open and up, then looked down at his body. It was a strain for his imagination, but the
perverted fantasies of perhaps the randiest teenage boy Hogwarts had ever seen in a millennia
of history proved sufficient for the task. His massive todger, swollen once more by the
second orgasm, grew... grew some more... and then split in two, starting at the tip and moving
further down, until one full shaft a little larger than the twelve-inch one he had started face-
fucking Lilith with several minutes ago sat atop another the same size, both turgid and
throbbing red.

"What do you think, my love?" Harry asked quietly, then decided he should at least try
wanking while he had them both. He really did want to get to the main event, the one he was
certain would well and truly wake up his increasingly healthy Succubus, but for now he put
her legs back down, and started stroking.

It was awkward, honestly, and he couldn't decide if he liked wanking his twin cocks in
alternating time, or together more. But it still felt fantastic, somewhere near twice as good as
doing it with just one dick. Harry grinned, then let go of his cocks to pick up Lilith's legs
once more.

He was well used to shagging like this now, so getting into position was easy. Getting both
heads to line up with Lilith's holes was a little harder, but after he had adjusted himself a few
times, then resorted to pressing one head against her puckered anus and twisting his pelvis to
get the other into position with the thick cap pressing into her pussy, he smiled, "Alright,
baby... this is how much I love you."

He pushed in with a sigh of rapture, both cocks fully enveloped in the warm heat of Lilith's
body to a depth even Harry had not truly felt before. As it had before, though he knew there
was indeed normally an end to both her rectal and vaginal cavity, Lilith's body adjusted at
once to fit him perfectly, with both holes tightening in rings in several spots along with her
natural folds, and closing off, or nearly so, at the end just before the receptacles that would
hold his seed.

They say that familiarity breeds contempt. Harry, despite being not seventeen, was quite
familiar with sex... and he disagreed. Even in this position, which was fairly vanilla, still
awed and inspired him. Rocking his hips forward and back to fill and empty any beautiful
woman would do that for him. That it was Lilith in her true form, both alien and exotic on top
of that beauty, only accentuated the feeling, and he resolved to shag her like this more often if
only to keep things interesting. He was still young enough that anal sex was a relatively fresh
and new thing too.

He was doing both at the same time, and it was far more glorious than he could have
imagined.
Double penetration with Ron or Neville, or Lilith with her cock out, was thrilling because
whoever they were doing it to was tighter than before, often tight enough to feel the other
person moving inside their body no matter what hole it was or who was doing it. This time,
Harry was experiencing the sensations at the same time, from both sides.

"Holy fuck," he half-groaned, half-chuckled after the first couple of thrusts, "You've gotta try
this yourself, baby... well, you probably already have knowing you, but it's fucking amazing.
Merlin..."

"Mas.... er...."

It had been so quiet that against the slight squeak of the bed or the wet squishing, sliding
sounds of his body moving inside hers, Harry had barely heard it. Even with the sensory
enhancements the Runes had given him along with his Bond, he might not have heard it if
past trauma had not heightened his sensitivity to faint noises, "I hear you, baby," he told her,
"And I'm going to feed you all you need. Building it up now... it's gonna be a big one."

This time, he knew he heard her, though it was a single, short word, "Yessss..."

Though Harry kept talking to her, Lilith didn't say anything else or do more than reflexively
let out gasps of air as he pounded her harder and faster, slowly increasing speed and force as
he saw her wounds continuing to knit themselves closed. Not just from the two gigantic
helpings of semen he had given her, he now knew, but because of the feelings infused within
them.

By the time he was nearing completion again, two fresh orgasms in to increase the sensitivity
of his cock before he had doubled it by growing a second one, Harry had been double-
fucking the Succubus in both holes for twenty-five minutes. During that time, about a third of
his attention devoted to the overwhelming level of sensation and staving off the orgasm that
very thing was trying to bring on too fast, while the larger remainder was, as before, focusing
on building a truly record-breaking amount of cum in his aching balls, which slapped heavily
against the Succubus' firm arse with every bottomed-out thrust into her orifices.

He was so intent on watching Lilith's body rock and move in time with his own, on the
exquisite pleasure she was evoking in him, and on flooding his magically-enhanced
ammunition with the emotional nutrition his lover needed to heal, that Harry didn't notice the
door opening behind him. He didn't realize that the entire cotierre, even those who hadn't yet
gotten Runes, had gathered around him and Lilith in a circle. They were quiet, Neville and
Ron slowly stroking themselves, the former through the hole in his boxers, the latter now as
nude as Harry was. The girls were mostly dressed as they had been too, and were also either
touching themselves or, in Daphne and Tracey's cases, each other. He didn't notice a thing
beyond the bed until he heard Ginny smack her lips and murmur, "I'm so getting that double-
cock next. I've got dibs."

"Shit," Hermione swore quietly, "I was just about to say it, too. I'm after."

Harry looked up, surprised twisting his relaxed, blissful expression into confusion for a few
seconds as he looked around, the control on his orgasm faltering enough a single potent shot
seeded Lilith before he caught himself, "Hey, uh- what are you lot doing...?"
"Watching our lover," Lavender answered for everyone, gesturing with the hand she wasn't
rubbing herself with, "heal our other lover. That's what."

It was the blonde's gesture that clued Harry in to the addition of Luna, but also of Katie and
both of the Patil sisters.

Katie was in her knickers and bra like the rest, a simple but cute affair in a soft cream a few
shades lighter than her olive skin. The sight of her made Harry's cocks both lurch. Though he
had shagged the woman twice now, and knew they were at the very least friends with some
amazing benefits and had discussed a possibly permanent sexual, even familial, relationship,
he had never actually seen his team-mate and Quidditch Captain naked, or even close to it.
He had fantasized about her first, and most often, out of Gryffindor's Flying Foxes, and now
he knew his dreams were a pale imitation.

Padma was the most conservatively dressed of everyone present, for she still wore her skirt
and the blouse of her uniform, but she still touched her pussy through her knickers, the skirt
raised, and her blouse was completely undone with one hand beneath it playing with her tits.

Not that it really mattered to Harry, because the Patils were identical, and as always, Parvati
was the opposite of her sister in that she was quite shamelessly nude, as naked as Harry
himself. He found himself staring, his twinned members swelling a little more at the sight of
her, and the knowledge that, by being here, she and her sister were essentially declaring their
desire to join the group completely.

And, well, twins were always sexy.

"Thank you," he said solemnly, which might have felt strange as he was being stared at by
over a dozen people while shagging a Succubus in her true form. With two penises, of course.
But Harry felt nothing of the sort. Through his bond with them, too, he could feel only the
same sort of affection he felt for them. Genuine, true compassion, care, support, love. Harry
smiled at each of them, then looked down at Lilith pointedly, "It's the emotion we were
lacking," he explained as gently as he could while continuing his frenetic humping, "Fluids
without emotion- passion- for Lilith herself was helping, but too slow. Too little, too weak.
This... Everything I have, everything that I... that I love her with, has gone into the last two
loads, and this one, too."

He didn't miss the girls, each and every one of them, sharing a look with the others, though it
seemed both Ron and Neville missed the unspoken words.

That was okay with Harry, because while he definitely loved both of them, it was like a
brother or best friend, or both. Iris might be infatuated with Ron, but she showed no interest
in Neville really, and he suspected the sister-self-persona, or whatever she was, would get
over even her infatuation given a bit more time. The little voice that occasionally niggled
inside his head seemed more concerned with Ginny, or even Astoria lately, anyway.

The girls and women who were the large majority of the circle around him and Lilith,
however, were his lovers. Even if he'd never actually shagged two of them, he knew that's
what they wanted, and what they now considered themselves. He knew it as surely as he had
known where each of them had been on the platform after the attack, and just as surely now
as he could see them, hear them.

The Patil twins, Padma and Parvati both, were in his cotierre, part of what most of the girls
were starting to call his harem, at least in private.

More, though... he still needed more. His family was not complete. Not yet.

But it was closer, a lot closer, than it had been at the beginning of the year. The thought made
his scrotum seize painfully. He was a teenager, and his refractory period was as low as it
would ever be without magic, but he had still climaxed dozens upon dozens of times in the
last two days, and the sheer volume of semen his balls had been forced to produce just in the
last hour would have boggled both scientists and wizard-scholars alike. But that didn't mean
his Succubus-Bound abilities were not going to work. Very little could stop that, at this point.
According to Lilith, in just a few short months, about a year and a half after summoning her,
he wouldn't even lose his powers if, somehow, she was killed. Not that he planned on letting
that happen.

No, she was his for as long as she wanted to be. Forever, or until one or both of them died of
old age. He would see to it, even if doing so meant moving the heavens themselves.

"I'm... fuck, it's so good, I'm... I'm cumming- gonna fill up both your holes, baby," he groaned
blissfully.

Lilith's eyes fluttered open, and he heard her in both his head and with his ears as she cried,
"I'm waiting, Master! Feed me!"

There were gasps all around as they saw veins pop out of the half or so of both of Harry's
dicks they could see as he plunged recklessly in and out of his Succubus with the onset of
climax. They uniformly gasped again as they saw the smooth skin surrounding Lilith's small
navel jump outward... and not go back in. Again, and again, her flesh lurched outward,
swelling bulbously, almost comically, until she truly looked pregnant with the lavender-pink
skin bulging around the chitin shell that covered her upper torso and circled her waist like a
thong.

"Bloody 'ell," Ron murmured.

"Language," Daphne, Hermione, and Ginny all corrected him absently, though Harry knew
without looking they were staring just as wide-eyed.

He was still orgasming, jetting more and more cum into Lilith's body. She drank it hungrily,
greedily, as much as he could give, but at a slower pace so her body continued to swell until
finally, at long last, he was finished and she looked like she was carrying triplets.

But Harry stayed buried within her as he leaned down over her once more and pressed
another kiss to her lips, then her nose, and finally forehead, before he came back down to
look into her violet eyes, "I'm glad you're back, my love."
"Me too, my only love," the Succubus, creature of sex, passion, and desire, whispered back,
once again in his mind and audibly, and this time in his heart, too, while gently reaching up a
hand, movement still weak and sluggish, to cup his face. Then she lifted her head, shakily, the
inch necessary to kiss him back.

Harry smiled against her mouth, knowing she would be alright, and thus, so would they all.
 An Auspicious End's Beginning

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

A note: I'm breaking from tradition a bit. This chapter marks the last of the main denoument
scenes for the SCHOOL YEAR, but this fic- Harry Potter and the Friend With Benefits- ends
at Ch. 111. The story DOES continue, however, in FwB2: Family With Benefits. That begins
on like, day 3 of the summer vacation, but also literally the morning where Ch. 111 ends.
There's no time-skip at all. It's just a busy (several) chapters. But the summer will be covered
in great detail, too. It might end up being the majority of FwB2 in fact, with FwB 3 (loosely
planned as "Future With Benefits") picking up after that. But nothing that far out is definite
yet as it might be years away irl. Also, this chapter's smutty but more's coming in the next: a
long awaited scene, too.

Finally again, you can always remind me if I'm late... though last night I wouldn't have
updated anyway as I was finally playing Hogwarts: Legacy for the first time. Yes it's great.
No, I don't want spoilers. Yes, things will probably make some sort of reference or note of
some events, etc, eventually, maybe. That's all. Enjoy!
 Chap. 92: Auspicious End's Beginning
The gathered group, all of his closest friends and a couple that Harry was only just starting to
really consider friends at all, looked up at him expectantly. The Leaving Feast for this year
had ended exactly one hour earlier, which meant almost all of the younger students were in
bed. Millicent and Cassius had asked to spend the last night in Harry's quarters, just in case,
as they suspected an attack. He knew it was a valid concern, because by now a good portion
of at least Slytherin House knew the two were not planning to return next year.

Cassius was graduating, and Millicent, who needed only her O.W.L.s and her family's name,
even if they disowned her (though she told Harry she doubted it would go that far). to secure
employment if she wished to in her chosen profession, was going with him. Thankfully, they
had volunteered to keep an eye on Astoria Greengrass, the vivacious fourteen year old was
enjoying the privacy of not having to share Harry's massive bed with Pansy, and was snoring
cutely in the suite's master bedroom.

The group would never have fit in the common room of the suite, so they were meeting in the
Room of Requirement. The Slytherin contingent, plus Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Padma
Patil, and Luna Lovegood, looked around in interest as they entered the room. Most of them
now knew it already, since a good portion had taken D.A. lessons with Harry here the
previous year, but none of the group had seen it set up like this. Well, except Hermione.

The decor was somewhere between the Gryffindor Common Room, and a classroom much
like the one Harry had used for the D.A. meetings. Red and gold tapestries hung the walls,
while the furniture was warm woods accented with darker colors, and just hints of green,
silver, blue, bronze, yellow, and black served as trim to represent the other Houses, long
couches circled the small central podium in two alternating rows so everyone had both room
to sit, and could easily see Harry and Lyra as they stood on it. This area was, he knew, just a
third of the room. Separated by curtains, another third contained a circle of soft, wide beds
like the one that had, until this night, been in the dungeon of the quarters. Nine in all, in fact,
and Harry was sure each one would be getting some use. The last third was even more
unusual, in that it held a miniature version of the Prefect's Bath, with a row of smaller
showers on one the furthest side, and a few sectioned-off toilets beyond that, and a
kitchenette that was stocked, thanks to Dobby, with several snacks and drinks from the
kitchens, but after the Feast Harry suspected no one would be in the mood to eat for a bit.

The room's precise makeup was something Harry had spent most of the day puzzling over.
With no classes to attend, or even exams, he and most of his friends had spent the last couple
of days healing. In Lilith's, Ron's, and his own case, that meant literally. And in Luna's, it
meant being surrounded by people she cared for and trusted, and yes, some sex. For Ginny,
Lavender, Pansy, and others, it involved more fun than just a little.

But the strange, shell-like armor Ron had manifested with the Hellhide Succubus power he
had been granted with the second-tier Rune-set had been easy enough to remove once it was
healed, demonstrating another ability that had come along with it. Despite his own being the
newest, he had been the first to gain a secondary power, likely due to the manner in which the
Hellhide had arrived: a desperate attempt to save Harry from grievous injury or death.

Lilith, her blood drained by a vampire, had taken days and a very potent mix of emotional
support and sex to even regain consciousness. Now, she was a bit weak relatively, but back in
her normal disguise as Lyra Sendai the transfer-student, and determined to carry through the
Ritual Harry had planned as a last-minute thing. She had just enough energy, she said, and
hoped that the others participating even indirectly would help her regain what she was about
to spend. Maybe, if they were lucky, she could even wind up with more energy tomorrow
than she had today.

Dumbledore... well, he was dead. There was no healing from that. Harry knew it, and knew
full well that the Headmaster he had so admired had gone out the way he wanted to: Saving
his school, and the students therein.

While he would miss the old man's kind smile, kinder words, understanding, and of course
his vast wisdom and knowledge, Harry did not mourn his passing as such. He thought it
wiser, perhaps, to celebrate the life he had lived, and be grateful for the time they had as
student and teacher, and dare he say it, friends. And though it hurt, he knew Dumbledore had
been ready to move on.

But this night was not about mourning what they had lost this year. From the devastating
attack on King's Cross, to the most recent one on the school itself, this gathering was not
about loss. This was about protecting what they still had... and about each other. He cared
about these people. He hoped, he knew, they cared about him. Even those that Harry felt like
he barely knew.

And they were looking up at him expectantly, ready for him to start talking, to take the lead.

The lead he knew he would take, because no one else could. True, Hermione could start
talking, help guide the discussion. Lilith certainly could, too, and now there was even less
reason for her to even hide who or what she was. All of Hogwarts, and indeed all of
Wizarding Britain now he was sure, knew that Harry Potter was a randy wizard who had
summoned a Succubus.

Why bother hiding it now? There was no reason to, not with his friends. She would show
what she was soon enough, and he was sure everyone here had put it together anyway. The
timing could be nothing else, especially with how quickly 'Lyra' had ingratiated herself to
Harry's circle of friends. If nothing else, everyone present, unless they left part-way through,
would know for sure, because Lilith, no matter her form, would be the one putting the
Succubus Runes on... whoever they were giving them to.

And that was the problem.

On the front row of couches, Katie Bell, Luna Lovegood, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis,
Parvati and Padma Patil hadn't had any Runes applied, but Susan sat with Hannah in the last
of the front row seats, the blonde already rubbing Neville's crotch through his trousers while
Susan, probably the least experienced person in the room, tried to ignore them. Even if she
knew what she was coming for.
... That that conversation would have to take place now, before she could participate, was a
bit awkward, but it was better than never.

In the back, by unspoken decree as far as Harry knew, the rest of his friends who'd already
gotten Runes were lounging too, Ginny's robes and blouse already open to display her bright
red bra. Of those, Pansy and Lavender could have their second Rune-sets applied this night,
too. Neville could, but had declined for now, since he was a bit weirded out by the necessity
of having Iris participate. He seemed to have a hard time separating Harry from his alter ego,
or whatever the girl was, and the wizard in question couldn't blame him.

Every time Iris showed up, it seemed they were more and more distinct, but she had also
been asking to come out less often since she had been named.

So who would it be? He could rule out Susan. She was still a virgin because of her apparent
need for a Concubine Contract similar to the one he had with Daphne Greengrass. That might
well change this night, but for now he did not think it would be right to apply Runes to
someone who'd only just had sex for the first time during that very ritual. Better they had
some normal experience, first. Thinking about it, he now understood much better why Lilith
and her people refused to accept virgin contractors, or indeed take the virginity of lesser
races.

The girl he'd first had sex with was willing and able now... but she was still nervous. Tracey,
her girlfriend, seemed more eager in her own taciturn way, but Harry had always been a little
enamored of the idea of doing the two's Runes as close to each other as possible. He didn't
want to overwhelm whichever of the two didn't get their Runes first, as well. The increase in
general lust and arousal was nothing to sneeze at, especially in the first few days.

Pansy... Harry grinned as he looked down at the former cow turned genuinely sweet young
woman. She could be a good fit for tonight's focus. There wasn't anything in particular for or
against her being chosen, and that alone might be enough.

Lavender Brown was in much the same boat, except she seemed to need the Runes less. Her
status as Harry's "Pet", his slave, seemed to give her a lesser version of the same kinds of
protection, even if it was unintentional. She would still get the Runes at some point, but he
was less worried about her safety and the need to get a second set.

But there were still others who'd not any Runes at all to consider.

Luna was eager, and had expressed her desire to get 'into things' as much as possible.

Katie was a little more hesitant, but he could see the subtle clues that she was excited just
being in the room with this many people with a clear intention of something naughty going
on. She seemed to like the idea of a group-sex ritual quite a lot, which wasn't surprising given
what Harry knew of her sexual history. But she had also, so far as he was aware, never been
with anyone in the room but him... and she had history with the Weasley twins. Would it be
weird for her? She'd said it wouldn't once before, when agreeing to get the Runes in the first
place on the night Katie had told him she wanted to join his family instead of the one she had
been in before with the Weasley twins, Angelina Johnson, and her now deceased girlfriend,
Alicia Spinnet, but he still wondered.
The Patils were in a similar boat to Daphne and Tracey. Harry wanted to shag them both, that
was not even in question. Doing it at the same time would be amazing, too. But he was
relatively sure that Padma was a virgin like Susan, and Parvati's status was up in the air a
little more than he was comfortable with. Short of flat-out asking, he wasn't sure how he
could best find out on short notice, either. He thought they wanted te be more involved, but
could they handle going so far, so fast? Jumping in, not just the deep end, but the open sea?
Parvati, he thought, might think she was ready... but was she?

Katie's hesitance made him pause again, and he sighed. Really, it just came down to three.
The ones most willing.

Luna, and Pansy, and Lavender.

Harry sighed. Nothing would really change, no one would be angry at him whatever he
picked, but... "Luna, we're giving you your first set. But before we start, I need to speak with
Padma, Parvati, and Susan. No one else. If you three could please, uh, go through the left
curtain. Don't need to strip or anything, I just want to talk for now."

Parvati cursed under her breath, but Susan stood up, her face as red as her hair, first. Hannah
hissed a quiet, "You'll be fine, good luck!" to her, and the Hufflepuff led the way into the bed
section of the room a moment later.

Once those three were gone, Harry turned his attention back to the rest, "Katie, Daphne,
Tracey... you don't have Runes yet, and that's alright. I'll- we'll- get them applied as soon as
possible in Summer. Daphne, your father's letter arrived a couple hours ago. When you get on
the train, you and Astoria should come find me. Together, if possible. We've got to talk. Oh,
for all three of you again... I know you're nervous, Daphne and Tracey. Well, all three of you,
yeah, but..."

"Get on with it, Potter," Katie herself chuckled, "we aren't gonna bite your heads off. Just spit
it out."

He swallowed nervously, then nodded, "R-Right. Sorry. I'll just come out with it then."

"Finally," Ron exhaled, getting a few titters and a slap from Hermione that only made him
smile more.

"You don't have to participate. No one is making you do this. We have plenty of people
tonight. But if you want... If you want to use the Ritual as an excuse to 'join in full,' as in, to
have sex with other people in the room besides me or each other... that's fine. No one will
think less of you. They won't think less of you if you bow out, either."

"I'll be here," Katie replied quietly, "I may not... participate much, but I don't want to go a
couple of months without being able to... you know. At least, not without getting some
tonight."

"Didn't think about that," Harry admitted, "I honestly kind of expected you to come stay with
me after... well, the Hols."
Katie shrugged, "My parents' house is... still there."

Harry nodded, "Alright. Well, I'll get you the Floo address as soon as I can, and you're
welcome to come, to live or just visit, whenever you want. Say the word, I mean it. I don't
want you in that house alone and moping, okay? Do what you need to. Stay there if you want.
But if it's too painful..."

With a somewhat watery smile, Katie looked up at him then nodded once, "I'll do that, Harry.
Thank you."

Daphne's hand tightened in her tiny girlfriend's grip for a moment, then she swallowed and
cast an eye about the room, "I still prefer women only. But... but there is no one here I would
not... be... with... if it helps the whole."

"My pussy is only for you," Tracey added, looking pointedly at Harry, "But that is not all I
have."

Neville, Ron, and the other girls, far less used to the strange way Tracey sometimes
pronounced things like that, exchanged a series of confused glances, but Harry nodded,
"Alright. Well, again, participate as much or as little as you want. I sectioned things off to
start so we- or you, rather- could get warmed up if you want to, while I talk to those three. It
shouldn't be long for the twins, but Susan's could take a bit."

"Why?" Ron asked.

Ginny elbowed her brother a moment before Hermione did, but it seemed to be the brunette's
that stung more, for he rubbed that side of his rubs with a glare in her direction, "Just a
question, sheesh."

It was Hannah who answered, "Because she's never been with anyone, Ron, and she wants
Harry to teach her about it before they enter into their Contract. Er... I hope that wasn't a
secret."

Harry shook his head and gestured to Daphne, "The only other Contract I have is with
Daphne, and it won't compete. The one with Susan I've started writing up is based on that
one, so it shouldn't anyway. As long as she doesn't mind... well, sharing I suppose, it won't be
an issue. And yeah, we all kind of know by now."

Hannah smiled, "Good. Now, you can keep talking if you want, but I missed the last Ritual,
and my parents are taking us to Germany for a few weeks, so I'm going to get what I can,
while I can."

Harry grinned at the blush Daphne and Katie sported while they tried not to watch the buxom
blonde go down on her boyfriend there on the couch. Tracey was more successful, by simply
not watching as if she had little interest but wasn't offended or bothered by it, either.

"Well... I guess you lot can have fun, then. Uh, try to stay out of the bed area until you see or
hear Padma, Parvati, or even better, Susan. I don't want to scare her off before we finish the,
uh, more structured lesson."
"Give her something practical to think about," Ginny teased, "that's a good way to break... the
ice."

"Break her in, more like," Katie shot back at her fellow Chaser, who giggled.

"Girls," Hermione, Daphne, and Pansy all sighed as one, making the laughter increase.

Harry smiled as he started walking around the couches toward the curtains the other girls had
gone through a minute earlier. If they were able to laugh and joke about sex, sex with him,
and other partners, this openly in front of each other, even knowing what was coming, they
would be alright.

"Do you want me to accompany you, Master?"

Harry missed a quarter step, not quite enough to stumble, but sent back quickly, "I think yes,
actually. Having you there could help make her less nervous, and you'll be a good one to
demonstrate on if she's nervous or doesn't want me to touch her directly for that part."

"Right behind you, then. I'm going to give these three Rune-less girls a quick kiss, and a dose
of Fog to help them get into the mood a bit, lose some inhibitions. Nothing fancy."

Harry didn't bother responding with actual thoughts, but sent a wave of pleased
acknowledgement back through their bond, and got another in return.

He found Parvati, Padma, and Susan nervously exchanging glances with each other and the
beds, though all six eyes moved to Harry as he stepped through the small gap in the curtains
and pulled it closed, re-activating the Silencing Charm he had put on it for this very occasion.
He chuckled, then said, "You don't need to be nervous, you know. I'm not gonna just rip your
clothes off and go at it."

"Aww," Parvati teased.

Harry grinned, shaking his head, "Unless that's what you want, I suppose. But no, I asked you
three to have a word because you're in a different position than the rest. Daphne and Tracey
have seen... what we're doing. They haven't participated, but they know fully what they're
getting into. I wanted you three to know before you decide to actually go through with it
tonight, or later, or not at all. You can't make an informed decision without the information,
after all."

"Does this have to do with Lyra? Your Succubus?"

Harry nodded at Padma's question, though he waved his hand back and forth in a so-so
gesture, "Sort of. Have the others told you about the Runes?"

"Briefly," Susan nodded, gesturing at the other girls, "I overheard Hermione tell them a little
before you came out of the other area, and Hannah's told me a bit."

"That'll save time, then. Runes- Succubus Runes- are letters in Lilith's native language,
imbued with sex magic. They're written in sexual fluids. Semen, Cowper's fluid, saliva, and
so on. The more emotionally charged the experience that produced them, the stronger it is.
By writing certain Rune-sequences, repeating them until it sinks in, and combining and
mixing them, she can give a variety of benefits."

"Like...?"

Harry answered Padma's question as efficiently as he could, beginning with the increased
strength and stamina, including a demonstration by picking up one of the beds quite easily,
through to the inability to become pregnant or catch a disease 'accidentally', along with the
'benefit' of increased general arousal at all times. He continued, "Then there are the second-
tier benefits. Pansy and Lavender could get these today, but I picked Luna for several
reasons. They do... more. More of the same, yes, but other things, too. Ginny can turn
invisible. You all saw Ron's armor- it looks like Lilith's true form, yeah? Same thing.
Hermione has their version of Mage Sight. Neville hasn't gotten one. Oh, I just realized,
damn... Hannah could've gotten a second Rune-set, too. I didn't even consider her. Damn. Too
late this year, but maybe... Whatever, it's not important right now."

"What do you get? What can you do?" Parvati asked, "That fire-ball thing?"

"Passionfire? No," Harry shook his head, a brief flicker of the violet-purple flame appearing
around his fist, "No, that's something I can do because of Lilith, but I don't get powers from
Rune-sets. I actually only have one basic rune-set she applied the first night. I get stronger
because of our Bond and our Contract, apparently. I'll, uh, have to go into my powers another
time, but yes, I can do the fire and what she calls Body Morphology. It's like a
Metamorphmagus... only different. Stronger in some ways, weaker in others. Maybe a little
more, uh, complete. In how it changes, I mean. Still not important.

"What is important is that... if you get Runes, if you go all the way? You're in. You'll... well,
you'll want to shag us all. A lot. Daily, several times a day. If not us, anyone will do, but
you'll go through partners like crazy. Normal people just can't keep up, that's why I want to
do Daphne and Tracey as a pair."

"Us, too?"

Harry shrugged at Padma's question, confused as to why she would ask, then continued on,
"We won't and can't force you to stay with our group, but you're better off if you do. I trust
you, so you can have the first set without- without joining like, permanently. I don't need an
Oath or anything. But you need to know, before you get any, you'll most likely be shagging
everyone in that room within a year, not just me. You won't see anything wrong with it,
either. There might well be more."

The twins exchanged a significant glance, and Susan blushed, but she said nothing, only
watched Harry quietly.

"So... I guess, what I'm saying is, if you want to back out, now's a good time. I'm not
expecting anything from any of you tonight. But, uh, I know Padma, and Parvati, you both
said you wanted to- to join us, so... you should know what that means before you make up
your mind. Susan, same thing with you. If you would prefer, I'm happy to honor your request
for a Contract, and supply whatever you need. It won't be a problem for me, no matter how
many partners I have. But if it's a problem for you..."

"It isn't," she assured him, still crimson but with a faint, strange smile, "I... it's kind of hot,
actually... thinking... thinking about you with all those women, all with dopey, satisfied
smiles..."

Harry smiled himself. Was Susan a secret voyeur? Interesting, he might have to check that.
The twins looked at each other again, then Padma said, "I... I'm a lesbian, Harry. But for you,
I'll... I'll be with another man. I don't want to be with Weasley. No offense, but after the Yule
Ball, that ship kind of sailed. Longbottom's alright, but... I prefer women."

His sharp eyes caught the slight tightening of the girl's hand in her twin's, but he only nodded
at her faintly nervous question, "That's fine, so are Daphne and Tracey. The... the whole
situation's weird, but we're making it work, at least so far. If you prefer, I don't have to
participate in anything with you aside from any Runes... and with Body Morphology, I can be
a woman, too."

Watching Padma's eyes light up to match her sister's already excited ones was inspiring, and
Harry felt Iris wake up just a little from her long slumber at the thought of coming out to play
with the gorgeous, brown-skinned twins, "I see that's appealing. Well, either way. You can, in
this case, have it whichever way you want."

"Don't get my sister wrong," Parvati said, shaking her head with a teasing smile at her twin,
"She's totally gonna get that Boy-Who-Lived dick, same as the rest of us. She's just nervous
about it. We've talked about it a lot, Harry. Lavender convinced me... and Hermione
convinced Padma. We're in, like you said, all the way. But, uh... in the interests of
expediency, we probably shouldn't stick around tonight. I want to... but I'm not at all packed,
and Pads said she'd help."

"I need to pack a little more too, if I'm being honest," the quieter girl replied, "But perhaps...
perhaps early in the summer? We are going to India to visit family for a couple weeks in the
middle, but..."

"If not that, then the end," Harry agreed, "I'd be happy to have you both. Uh... Sorry. I'm
probably going to make a prat of myself, but I don't know a polite way to ask this. There's not
like... a Rajah or Shah or anything waiting for you at home, is there? Or some other
arranged... thing?"

Padma blushed, but Parvati full-on belly-laughed, even clutched her stomach for a minute,
"No, Harry," she finally gasped between heaving breaths that did wondrous things for her
cleavage, "No. Our grandparents are traditional, and they've discussed it, but Daddy put his
foot down. We get to choose our spouses, thank you. And, uh, our Mum might have secretly
been trying to encourage me to get to know you better for, oh, five years."

"R- Really? You've never said," Harry asked, quite surprised.

Parvati shrugged, "Wouldn't have been genuine, would it? If I was trying to seduce you at
twelve, or whatever? This way, I can at least say I really know you."
"That's true," he acknowledged, "Though in my defense, at twelve I wouldn't have known
how to put the Quaffle in the goal, so to speak. At fourteen, maybe..."

"And that's why I didn't then," Parvati chuckled, "I figured if... if you were really that good,
you'd ask me out. And when you did, I was disappointed, but I knew even then who you
really loved. Everyone- and I mean everyone- saw how you looked at Hermione. Ginny was
so envious... at least, until last year, but even then... well, things worked out in the end."

"Have they, though?" Harry asked quietly, "That still leaves you unhappy, at least, if things
are there. Maybe I'm being, I don't know, presumptuous or something, but..."

Parvati laughed again, and shared a long, meaningful glance with her sister. After several
seconds, Padma, who had been growing more tense and ramrod-straight during the silent
conversation, suddenly deflated, "Fine," she murmured.

Parvati actually let go of her sister's hand to skip up to Harry as Padma walked more sedately
toward him, "The thing is," she whispered, pausing only when Harry yelped after having his
buttocks slapped, and hard, by the Ravenclaw in a sneak attack he would never have
expected, "I can't exactly marry the girl I'm in love with... but I do fancy you a bit, and have
for a while. There's worse ways. Especially since, by being with you, we can be together,
too."

"You're a lesbian too?" he asked quietly, mindful of Parvati's quiet tone and Susan's continued
presence. At least the moans that suddenly came through the gap as the Silencing Charm was
stalled until they closed once more helped mask some of it.

Parvati nibbled his ear and made Harry shudder as she grabbed the same rear cheek her sister
had slapped, kneading it a bit, "No... I'm a lot of things, but I'm not only into girls. I'm a
freaky girl, I imagine, actually..."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Harry murmured back, and found his hands snaking around her
slender waist regardless of Susan looking on. He knew exactly why the phrase triggered him,
and didn't want to discuss it, thanks, but would protest any use of it for the rest of his life.

"I didn't say I was a freak, I said I was a freaky girl," Parvati laughed, then bit his ear harder,
"I'll do anything once... maybe twice if it hurts. Three times... if it hurts and makes me cum. I
bet you can. But no... most people would say the freaky thing is that I'm in love with my
sister. Catch you later, Potter. Hopefully we'll be balls-deep- or you will- by summer's end."

Then she was gone, leaving his skin tingling with the feel of her soft, smooth flesh against his
even as his arse still stung with the force of her twin's blow.

"S- So... that was flirting," he chuckled weakly, completely off-centered."

Susan, still red-faced, shook her head in wry amusement, "I know what flirting is, Harry.
I've... I don't know a lot about shagging, beyond the basics, but I've had a boyfriend or two."

He blinked, "Oh. I didn't know that."

Susan shrugged and looked away, apparently quite conscious that they were now the only
people in at least a dozen feet, and floor-to-ceiling curtains with Silencing Charms applied
now separated them rather well from the larger group outside, "I... No offense, Harry, but
there's probably a lot you don't know about me. Or even Hannah. We... We haven't talked a
lot over the last six years."

"No, I suppose not," he agreed, "which brings me to a really important question. Before I ask
it, though, you should know: I'll stand by our agreement. Both of them, really. You want to
learn, I'll teach you all I can even if I don't think I'm the best teacher."

"You did alright in the D.A.. Pretty good, actually. I learned loads, and- and Auntie taught me
for years, before that."

It was, apparently, Harry's turn to blush from the unexpected praise, "Er... Thanks. I mean,
I'm glad it helped. I hope it helped. But more than the grades, I hope it helps people stay
alive."

Susan nodded. Harry swallowed, unsure how to continue the conversation from there.
Normally, when he talked, others responded. Even if it was with something useless. Susan
seemed content to simply agree wordlessly. How did he follow that?

Maybe it was time to change the subject. He hadn't mentioned the second thing, anyway, "Er,
and the Contract is, as far as I'm concerned, already signed even if it's not written yet. If you
want it to be, anyway."

"I do," she replied, "There's no one else I'd... trust."

The word was simple. Five letters, two of them even duplicates. But the meaning, spoken
from a girl he really didn't know that well, hit Harry like a hammer. She chose him to father
her children because she trusted him. Why? Why him? "You..." Something about it just
rubbed him the wrong way. But not badly? Almost like... "You do know I'm..." Like she was
seeing something in him that Harry didn't see himself, but he knew the kind of person he was,
didn't he? Hermione, Ginny, and especially Lilith had been drilling it into him with varying
degrees of intent for over a year, "I'm not... the Boy-Who-Lived. I mean, I am, but I'm not..."

"I know who you are," Susan answered, "I knew it was you during the D.A. I... Well, I didn't
dislike you, but I didn't, um... didn't really know..."

"The real me?"

She nodded again, but this time continued with words as well, "But in the D.A. I feel like
your true self, the real you, started to show. That man is funny, smart, nice, helps people,
protects people... the kind of person I imagine my father would have been, or my brothers, or
my uncles..."

"Oh." Suddenly he felt bad for thinking it would've been much easier if she had used more
than brief answers or gestures. But what could he say to that without sounding either arrogant
or overly humble? Every response seemed too extreme.
"But," Susan continued and stepped back, turning to look around the bed-filled space a bit,
"Then when I learned about Lilith... and I remembered my Uncle's wife..."

"Your Uncle's wife was a Succubus?"

Susan grinned, almost playfully at some memory, but shook her head, "No, but Auntie's
brother, Uncle Caleb, did have a Succubus. She was my Aunt Yrida. I thought for years she
was just one of my Uncle and Aunt Denise's friends who happened to live with them, but as I
got older... Well, some things make more sense now. Aunt Denise always said she was Bi-
something. Muggleborn, so I wasn't familiar with the word, and I got told not to ask about it
too many times as a kid."

"They kept you from asking questions?" Harry almost growled. He'd had far too much of
aunts and uncles doing that, too, especially after the recent emotional strike of Parvati calling
herself freaky.

"Not usually," Susan answered, "Just about that. It was always, 'Stop asking, we'll explain
that when you're older.' Of course, now I don't need it explained. Aunt Yrida was probably
ecstatic to be with both all the time. They were always happy, hugging each other... I think
Auntie was a little jealous, since she never... well, you know, never married. Can't have kids
anyway, an old curse got her when she was a Junior Auror, but... Well, couldn't have kids."

"We'll have to do it for her, then," Harry told her, "I mean, that's why the Contract, right? To
continue the Bones line?"

Susan smiled, not just a little sadly. But she wasn't teary, which Harry appreciated. He might
have more than a whole tablespoon of emotional range now, but he would still always rather
not have to deal with crying girls, "Anyway, I... I'm not changing my mind. I know your life
is..."

"Weird? Crazy?"

"Weird works," Susan giggled softly, "It works well, actually. But I don't... mind it. I loved
Auntie Amelia. I do love her, still. But she was always so lonely. And Uncle Caleb, Aunt
Denise, and Aunt Yrida were always so happy... and it was just the three of them and my
cousins. They died the same day, you know."

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Susan Bones' shyness was entirely likely to be the result of
trauma such as even he hadn't endured. Yes, he had grown up parentless... but so had she. But
while Susan Bones might have been raised by her aunt, Amelia Bones was a good woman,
and Harry was proud to have known her, if only briefly. But she had lost more than just her
parents. Siblings, unborn siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins... A generation ago, the Bones
family had been pretty large. Now it was just her.

"Susan, I... I can't promise I'll love you like... some of the others. But I do promise you I'll do
my best to act as I do, if that's what you want. At the very least, I'll be kind and understanding
as much as I can, and I'll do my best to be a good father."
"That's all I want, really," she shrugged, "If years down the line we realize we're in love, then
that's great, but... It isn't needed. I just don't want to be alone. And if I can be happy, then
even better."

"Alright. It's a deal, then."

"So... When should we start?"

"Er... What?"

Susan turned scarlet to match her hair again, which flopped as she started stroking one thick,
waved strand of it in her hands, "Er... the- the lessons."

"The les- oh. Oh. Well... First, let's..."

What followed was, at least, enlightening. Even if Harry was overjoyed that Susan's
embarrassed blush, which lasted the entire next hour and a half, did absolutely nothing to
stop her from paying rapt attention and even asking several relevant questions.
 A Bone to Pick

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

Chap. 93: A Bone to Pick

Harry watched, amused, as Susan Bones' blush deepened. The curtains behind him were
swaying silently, affected by the spell that kept all sound from the burgeoning orgy outside
from intruding on this wide space. Eight beds, each of them the size of the ones in his Master
Bedroom, were arrayed around the space, but it was otherwise sparsely decorated. Two walls
mirrored those of Hogwarts, and the other two were separated by Silenced curtains of royal
blue.

It wasn't that he didn't understand her nerves. He and Susan were... well, barely even friends.
Casual acquaintances might be a better way to describe it, but the girl was a fierce fighter
despite being quiet in conversation, and he had learned since Dumbledore's Army had begun
that she was a quite capable witch, and a steadfast, loyal friend. Intelligent, too. And her
looks...

His faint grin broadened into a smile as he let his eyes rove her curves, not for the first time.
She was quite pretty. Though not as stunningly gorgeous as Daphne, the Patils, or Fleur
Delacour, that didn't mean she wasn't among the most lusted-after girls in Hogwarts. Hannah
was fairly busty, and Daphne too, but Susan easily beat them both, and had the rear end to
balance out her bosom, which strained even against the magically-fitted robes Madame
Malkins' produced.

What straight boy within a few years of her hadn't fantasized about wrapping their hands
around those tits, of burying their face or cock between them? Harry couldn't think of a single
one. Sure, he now knew she'd had a couple of boyfriends, but it was painfully obvious in her
demeanor and expression right now that she hadn't done more than a light snog here and
there.

And yet she fancied him, wanted him to teach her about sex... and then to father her children.

It was a heavy responsibility, but the empathic abilities granted to him by his Bond with
Lilith made it plain, she was good for him. Would be, in the future, as well. They were more
compatible than not by a high degree, and... well, he was a horny teenager still, even if he
regularly had sex three to ten times a day.

"You can relax, you know," he told her quietly, "I'm not going to hurt you. I think you'll enjoy
things. In fact, I'd bet on it."

"That's... that's not why I'm..." Susan whispered, then shook her head hard enough to make
her ginger curls sway and bounce around her shoulders, "Sorry, I'm... I just... I'm not saying
no. I- We- I'm prepared to... to do whatever we have to. Tonight. I just... I've never, you
know..."

"Susan, you do know I'm prepared to teach you, right? Like... you and Hannah made that
clear over the holidays. Even the summer, sort of. It's going to be fine."

"But you're... you've been with so many people," she murmured, flicking a hand vaguely in
the direction of the couches outside, "and I've... well... I'm afraid."

"Ah," Harry nodded, cottoning on. She was indeed nervous, and a bit afraid. He could feel
that. What he hadn't known was why. Now, things made more sense, "You're afraid you
won't... measure up? That I'll find you lacking, compared to the other girls?"

Susan nodded while looking away, and folded her arms under her chest.

Fortunately for them both, Harry was bold enough to take the next step on his own. He
crossed the distance between them in seven measured, slow steps, making sure she heard him
and had a chance to pull away. She didn't. In fact, Susan looked back up at him, her light
brown eyes almost glistening as he took the last step and gently placed his hands on her hips,
"I know you're nervous, but you don't need to be. I don't lie if I can help it. You have nothing
to worry about. I know you're new at this. So were they. Almost all of them. It..."

Harry sighed. This was not easy to explain. Not because he didn't have the words, but he felt
like most of it wasn't his place to tell, even if he was as involved as the other parties. But
Susan would find out about all of it sooner or later, he was sure. Girls gossiped, and they
talked about sex as much as boys did- just not in front of boys. There would be no harm in it,
he was sure, but it still felt strange telling others' secrets, "I'm not going to kiss and tell, so to
speak, but... Of the girls out there, only the Patils I... haven't been with. Ginny, Hermione,
Lavender, and Hannah were virgins when we had our first times together. Hermione had
given exactly one blowjob- well, two, since she gave me one that night first. Ginny had only
snogged a fair bit. Lavender, well, you know the rumors... but she didn't sleep around a lot,
only a few blowjobs. Three, I think. None of them were super experienced. You just... start.
The first step's scary, but after that it's quite easy to keep going. At least, if the first time's
good."

Susan nodded, but couldn't seem to make her mouth work. Her soft, full lips parted slightly
and she licked them as she looked upward, which made Harry want to lean down and claim
her mouth desperately, but he forced himself to hold off for a moment more, "Pansy, Luna-
yes, even Luna Lovegood- Katie, Daphne and Tracey, they all had at least one partner before
me. For, uh, two of those I was their first male partner..."
"Daphne and Tracey," Susan whispered.

He nodded, not seeing the harm in confirming what she already knew anyway, "Right. So...
yes, they are more experienced, but that doesn't mean they have to stay more experienced.
You're nervous because it's unknown. Not because they're better, or some silly thing like that.
Besides, have you looked at yourself? You're gorgeous. You've nothing to worry about."

"Chubby," she half-snorted, half-sniffed.

"Very cute, and I prefer voluptuous. Seriously, Susan? Half- all- the guys I know fantasize
about you. Literally everyone I've ever had 'guy talk' with has brought you up."

Her blush came back full-force and she looked away again. It caused yet another stirring in
Harry's loins as he looked down at her from this close, "Sorry, I'm not saying that to
embarrass you. I just want you to know that you are desirable, and I do desire you
personally... and you don't have to be scared. We're going to be okay, and you're going to
enjoy this. Whenever you're ready."

She nodded again but didn't look back up at him or even face him again for several seconds.
When Susan did, it was only to murmur, "I don't think I will ever be ready... so we should just
do it. Get it- get it over with. Er... I mean, get it started. Once we start, I... I think we'll be
okay. I'll be okay."

"Alright," Harry agreed, "Would you prefer if I started with the bare-bones- sorry, couldn't
help it- basics, or...?"

She actually scowled up at him for the play on her family name, but it succeeded in making
her mouth at least twitch upward into a sort-of-smile, so he thought it was a good start to
breaking the ice, "I... I know the basics. Muggles say 'tab A in slot B'. I know where a p- pe-
penis goes... in and out. I know what a blowjob is, and that some people are into the, uh, b-
buggering part... Hannah talks too much."

Harry laughed and pulled the shy girl in for a hug. She didn't resist, and even put her arms
around him in turn while his chuckles wound down, "She definitely does, sometimes, but at
least it's in private, right? Just to you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Well, that's a decent start, at least. So what is it you want to know? How to... I don't
know, make it good? How to please your partner, but make sure you have a good time
yourself?"

She nodded, "That's... that's exactly it, yes. I've... I've never had an o- o- an.. I've never...
um... f-finished."

Harry blinked, "You've... never had an orgasm? Not ever?"

"I don't, um, think so," Susan answered, "At least I've never had... the tingles, the, uh, waves
of heat that Hannah describes."
"Fuck, that sucks, I'm sorry," Harry chuckled, "And sorry again, I'm not laughing at you, it's
just... I've always been a randy bloke, but it's easy for guys to climax. I know it's a bit harder
for women, and some really struggle. But once we get into things, I think you'll be okay.
Would you, uh, be comfortable showing me what you're doing? That might be a good place
to start. Self-pleasure."

The sound Susan Bones made was the most adorable, mouse-like squeak he had ever heard
coming out of a girl's mouth.

"Too much then? That's alright. Hm... Okay, we have some options. That one, of course, but
it's fine to veto that. I can show you what a guy can do- what I can do- to make you feel good.
Or I can show you how to please a man. We'll probably do all of them at some point, but
where would you like to start?"

Susan swallowed, loud enough that Harry actually heard it in the quiet space, "I... I've always
been curious about... about what a man's thing.. you know, f- feels like. Looks like? And...
and, um.. t- t- tastes."

Harry had thought, for a moment, that he would have to finish the last word for her after the
stutter picked back up, but he smiled as Susan finished it. Her face was absolutely burning,
radiating heat he could feel through his shirt, but he only nodded casually, intent on keeping
things soothing and calm on his end, despite any excitement he might feel at the idea of
getting a wank or a blowjob from Susan Bones, "Alright. I can help you with that, sure. And
don't worry. I can either hold off a long, long time on my own orgasm, or do it a bunch in a
row. You don't need to worry about me, just do what you're comfortable with in the moment,
okay? If that's making me cum on your face or tits, that's cool. In your mouth is awesome."

She shuddered.

"Hey, now... some girls like the taste, some don't. It's fine. I've been told I taste pretty good,
but I'm hardly a decent judge. I can admit it's not horrendous..."

In fact, Iris rather liked the taste of his own spunk, but he wasn't sure Susan was ready for
that detail just yet.

"Anyway, I can also just not if you're worried about either. We only have to do what you're
comfortable with, nothing more. Even if I leave unsatisfied, for now, I'm not going to be
upset or mad at you. Even if I go straight to shagging the witches out there, it's not a mark
against you, okay? Just relax. You and I are the only ones you need to worry about right now-
and mostly you. I'll be fine, I promise."

"A- Alright," Susan murmured, then shivered again as she made a visible effort at controlling
herself. She pulled back a half-step, and pressed her palms against Harry's chest, then looked
up at him with a firm expression, "And, you know... I... wasn't shivering because it was
disgusting... I like, um... the idea of your s- semen... on me, or... in my m-mouth."

"You should've been in Gryffindor," Harry replied softly, as he raised a hand to cup her jaw.
She leaned into his touch a little.
"Why do you say that?"

"Because a girl as shy as you? It takes a lot of bravery to say things like that."

Susan frowned at his teasing, but once again her mouth twitched upwards into an almost-
smile. But she didn't protest. Instead, she stepped back the rest of the way to the bed, until her
knees bumped against it, "Take off- take off your clothes, Harry. I... I want to see you. It's
pointless to keep, um... stalling."

"Alright. Why don't you have a seat. I know you were in the, uh, what did they call them...
the 'maturation' classes the Professors did this year, so I guess I should've assumed you had
the basics. But you've never seen a man before, have you? Not like this."

"Not since I was a little girl," Susan agreed, "My Uncle, I... walked in on him once. That's
how I learned Aunt Yrida wasn't, you know, his sister."

Harry was already disrobing as she spoke, with a bit of his attention focused on making his
cock something more a normal size, similar to what he'd started with when he had first
summoned Lilith rather than the monster he frequently sported these days. When his shirt
came over his head, Harry looked down to see Susan staring directly at him from just out of
her arms' reach. He knew, because she reached out for him and fell just shy of touching his
chest. So Harry stepped a little closer, hoping...

But no, the girl pulled away, then looked back up at him nervously, "You can touch me.
Tonight, I'm all yours to do with what you want. At least until the lesson's over."

Susan's throat convulsed as she gulped, but the feel of her tentative, too-gentle touch on the
firm muscle of his stomach and pectorals made Harry sigh in pleasure. Susan jerked back, but
after looking up at the relaxed expression Harry carried, she let her hands, both now, roam
over his torso together.

He wasn't idle while she did it after the first minute or two, and his hands undid his belt and
lowered his trousers. He left his boxers on, not wanting to scare the girl by going to fast, and
she swallowed... But her hands moved over his underwear down to his legs, then felt along
those too, up, down, inside, and out.

"It's just skin," Harry told her quietly, "Just like yours."

"Mine's softer," she argued just as quietly, "and yours is hairy, er, Harry."

"Ha, Ha," he said, making sure she knew he was amused by the grin he showed too, "Laugh it
up. I suppose I deserved it for the one I did earlier, but..."

"You can poke fun," Susan told him, then bravely hooked her thumbs in the top of his
underpants, "I don't mind... as long as it isn't hurtful. But you should know Hannah doesn't
make fun of my name because she knows I'll do it back."

"Oh really... Shy, but you like to spar verbally? Interesting. I think I like you already, Miss
Bones. Now... stop teasing me. I have a bone to show you."
"You're terrible," Susan laughed, and the last bits of tension seemed to flee from her, because
she pulled down his underwear with a smooth motion... and flinched as Harry's half-erect
dick slapped the bottom of her chin, "What the-"

"Sorry," he chuckled, and reached down to his base to push it away from her jaw as he
stepped back, "I was gonna make it softer so you could see it both ways instead of half-erect,
but you went too fast."

"Sorry," she repeated, almost whispering as she stared at the slightly darker shaft in front of
her, "I... Is... are they meant to be... like that? That... um... b-big?"

"I'm bigger than most, I gather," Harry told her honestly, and stepped out of her reach to let
her get a better look at all of him after stepping out of his clothes, "But I can also change my
shape and size, because of Body Morphology. I got that from Lilith early on. This is pretty
much what I, uh, started with, though."

"Oh."

She didn't seem to know what else to say, so Harry launched into a quick run-down of the
various parts, and showed Susan where he was more or less sensitive, mentioned that one
should be gentle with the testicles but that it still felt amazing when they were touched or
suckled on, worked through the basic description of a hand- or blow-job, and then let himself
react as he normally would to being naked in front of a beautiful witch.

He got hard. Very hard.

Not abnormally large, but a solid eight inches and a couple of Susan's fingers thick as she
lifted a hand to compare, "Are... are you sure it'll... fit?"

"Positive," Harry chuckled, "But only when you're ready. I don't want to push you too far, too
fast. It's better if you are as relaxed as possible for your first time. You'll enjoy it more. I
could use magic, but..."

"Hm? You can...?"

He nodded, "Lilith has an ability or two that can help, but... honestly? I kind of appreciate not
needing it, these days. I want to see if... I can do it, you know, without the extra help. Make
your first time spectacular, I mean."

"Oh," Susan murmured, blushing again, "That... that's fair... Can I touch...?"

"I said you can," Harry replied, "You have full access until the lesson ends. Remember, gentle
on my balls, but you can give the shaft a bit of pressure, it actually feels good when you do
that. If it's too hard, I'll let you know."

He should have known the girl's first, tentative touch would be a simple poke with a single
finger near the top. His cock bounced back and forth a couple of times, and Susan giggled,
looked up at him with a shy smile, then back down at his genitals before she pushed it again,
a little slower, "It's... bouncy. And hot. Erm, I mean... warm."
"It's filled with blood, straight from the heart. Internal body temperature- which is a bit
warmer than normal right now," Harry explained, "I bet if I touched you down there, it'd be
warm, too. Your pulse is racing, isn't it?"

"Yes," Susan whispered huskily, "I... I don't mind, though."

Then she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and gave him a stroke with both hands, the
digits twining together around him. Harry moaned softly, "That's nice... You can use one
hand, or two. Just pump up and down. Not too soft, not too tight. Different- ah- different
sensations for the guy, if you tug the skin or slide along it, but if you want to get one off,
sliding will probably work better most of the time. Still feels pretty good either- ow!"

"Sorry!" Susan cried, both hands flying away from him and she recoiled, leaning almost far
enough back to fall onto the bed.

"Oh, shit, sorry," Harry apologized, "That was a bit of an overreaction, you know, sensitive
areas we're conditioned to protect. Just a little pain. The- the grip was alright, but when you're
pulling on the skin, don't go too far in either direction. It's only so elastic, you know?"

"S-Sorry..."

"Don't worry about it," Harry assured her, then reached for her wrists and hauled her back
toward him, "You're fine, it only hurt a little and only for a moment. Don't stop now."

"I don't want to hurt you," she whimpered.

"You won't. If you genuinely want to stop, I'll let you go, but I'm fine, Susan, I promise."

"You're... sure?"

He nodded, then, since he still had his hands on her arms, pulled them closer, "Touch me.
Stroke my dick, Susan."

She turned scarlet once more at the word, and Harry grinned again, "What... Dick? Cock?
Shaft? Erection?"

"Stop it," she whimpered again, and looked away even while she shifted her right hand to
pump him alone, while her left fingers started exploring his scrotum.

"Stop what? I'm just using words for a cock, Susan."

"It's- It's embarrassing."

"Not for long," Harry told her, voice low and commanding, "Your homework starts here:
Every day, you have to tell me- or Hannah- these words, out loud: Cock, Pussy, Dick, Cunt,
Penis, Vagina, Sex, Blowjob. All of them, every day, for two weeks. I'll get Hannah to report
on it if you don't tell her."

"That's... not fair..."

"You'll get used to it fast, though. Normal people say those words... we say them a lot 'round
here," Harry chuckled, "Besides, it will also help you get over your embarrassment when my
fat cock goes inside your tight virgin pussy."

She slapped his stomach again, but didn't stop stroking him. Instead, she pretended to glare,
red-faced, as she moved back to stroking with two hands again, this time on the top and
bottom of his shaft, "Is... Is this alright?"

"You're doing fine," Harry nodded, "Maybe a little tighter, but only a little. Different guys
like different things. Communication is really important, so keep asking questions if they
aren't volunteering things. You can also watch our expressions, body language... if we moan
or sigh, it's probably good. Wincing, not so good."

"You haven't winced or sighed," she observed.

"That's because you're doing alright, but not great. Don't feel bad- it's your first time,
remember? I know it is. You'll get more confident, and that'll help loads, but doing it a few
times will get you pretty good. It's not hard, but it's also not something you can really master
from the starting line."

"Oh," she said again, "C- What's that liquid...?"

"Ah, that's the pre-cum. Cowper's fluid is the technical term. I think it's the same stuff girls
use for lubricant, but I'm not sure. It helps to smooth things out when it's time."

"Pre-cum though...? Are you going to...?"

"Not for a while," Harry told her, "unless you want me to hurry it up, because I can do that
too, if you want to see it. It's just a sign that things are progressing. My body understands it's
getting pleasure, and might be trying to reproduce, or at least have sex, soon, that's all."

"Weird."

"A little," Harry laughed, "but also natural. It's just like the wetness you're feeling, only girls
have to make more of it."

"What... what does it taste like?"

"I wouldn't know," he admitted, "never had a good lick. Not much of anything though, from
what I can tell. No one's really said anything. A bit salty? Bitter? Semen can be, but I'm told
mine's delicious, like I said. Girls all have their own particular tastes- they even change based
on diet sometimes."

"R- Really?"

Harry nodded.

"What's Hannah- I mean, uh..."

"Kissing and telling," Harry chided, "but... a secret? Well, if you promise not to tell her I said
it, she tastes like ginger root. Bit tangy, sweet."

"So weird," Susan giggled, "You're not lying? This is actually alright?"

"It is. I'm not- well, I'm not inexperienced, so it'll take a bit to get me off just from this, but if
you keep doing it for a bit more I will sooner or later."

Before he could suggest something else, her hands shifted. One dropped to his thigh, the
other circled his base, and suddenly he was in her mouth. Half-buried, the end of him against
her tonsils, Harry watched wide-eyed as Susan's glistened with tears, "Holy fuck..."

He felt her tongue move, her throat convulse, and she backed away.

"Hah... I didn't expect that for a bit," Harry chuckled, "What brought that on?"

Susan only shrugged and started using just the fingers wrapped around him to slowly pump
his base, staying away from the wet upper half, "I... I was stalling, and..."

"Ah. Well, that was... honestly kind of impressive, you took more than I thought. You okay?"

Susan shrugged, clearly unsure of the answer to that question, "I guess? I just thought, it's
skin, and I'm so worried about it, but it wasn't like you were going to blow just from one
quick... so I made myself do it. And..."

"And...?"

"And it's not scary," she said quietly, "It... it was just like a couple of longer, thicker fingers. I
didn't gag. I came close, but... The look on your face. It was..."

"Well, in my defense, I was really surprised, and it felt really good."

"I'm not complaining," Susan told him, "Can I... do it again? I just... close my lips, and go up
and down, right?"

"You can, absolutely, do that again. Hah... Anyone who turns down a blowjob from a pretty
girl like you is a fool, or very much in love with someone else. Er, someone besides me, I
guess. Because I am, but I'm still not turning you down."

She grinned, "Hannah told me how you feel about everyone. At least, in general terms. I'll..."

Then her mouth opened, and she didn't use words anymore. Instead, she bobbed slowly,
twisting her head from side to side to scrape his cap along her cheeks, or against her tongue,
even the roof of her mouth. A few times her teeth grazed him, but not hard enough to hurt. It
was adorable, Harry decided, watching the girl experiment with how to best please him
orally. She was both shy and confident, secure, but inexperienced, and the clash between
those extremes excited him more than anyone else he'd been with in... well, a while. He didn't
like comparing his lovers that way.
But she was enthusiastic, so even though Susan stayed away from going any further than
half-way down, Harry was still able to enjoy her first blow-job immensely.

When her eyes moved up to look at him again, he smiled, "That's it, Susan... look up at me.
We like that look most of all, I think. You can look down too, but when you look into our
eyes with our cocks in your mouth it's something truly special. You can also stroke the
bottom half, like you were doing before. Alternate with your lips, or go with them, it's all
good. Fuck... your grip is perfect, just like that... maybe... yeah, suckle a little at the end. Like
you're a baby with a teat."

Harry had more than a dozen regular lovers at that point, each with their own unique skills,
talent, and even style when it came to giving and receiving pleasure, but he had never had a
bad blowjob. Susan Bones' first blowjob was not an exception, and he made sure to tell her
so.

"That's it, you're doing wonderfully. I love a good wank, especially when a beautiful girl does
it. There's one thing you can do to make it better, though... well, two, but I don't want to scare
you off."

"Hmm?" she murmured, never quite taking him out of her mouth, though he appreciated
Susan looking up at him again while she started suckling on his cap.

"Show me those glorious tits, Susan," he told her, firm, commanding even, but not cruelly or
harshly, "Show me what I still dream about."

Once again, her face turned red. Odd that it hadn't from blowing him, but Susan nodded, then
finally popped off of him. A string of saliva dangled and wavered, then she reached up and
started opening her robes. Inch by glorious inch, one button at a time, he saw more cleavage,
more...

A black bra, lacy.

Lightly freckled flesh, pale, and huge.

Susan Bones pushed her shirt aside with a shy look, faking confidence. It turned Harry on
even more, "You are so beautiful... perfect."

She was at least an E-cup, he decided, still mostly firm, though he was sure at her size she
would sag a fair bit as she aged. Still, magic could do a lot, and Susan clearly cared for her
skin. Her nipples and areolae were a light brown almost the color of her freckles, and the tips
were almost as large as his thumbnails, protruding in to the air as they faced his knees,
"Fuck... One day soon, I'll have to teach you how a pair like that drives men wild, Susan. But
for now... what do you want to do next?"

"I'll... I want you to cum for me," she said softly, looking up at him sincerely, "I want you to...
climax, from my mouth. I don't care where."

Harry grinned, "Then this first time, I'll mark your tits- the first man to cum on them, to have
them."
"The first to see them since they came in," Susan whispered.

"Yes. You're mine, you know... Others might have you for a time, but you're mine if I do
that."

Susan only smiled, opened her mouth, and took him inside again.

"Okay. I've been yours," Susan agreed at once, "This just makes it officiaumph!"

Harry hadn't done it. Not to a shy girl like Susan, he wouldn't be so forceful. At least, not
until she was ready. Instead, Susan herself had gobbled him down, further than even the first
time, until her eyes watered and rolled back a little in her head. But she kept him down, even
while she tried to swallow Harry's swollen cap into her throat, "Oh, fuck, Susan... that's...
fuck!"

There was a loud sucking noise and he saw her cheeks hollow even further. Her hands came
up to his hips and pushed, hard. No to push Harry out of her mouth, but to push herself off of
him. Harry staggered with the force of it, the suction she had generated was unreal! He ended
up falling forward onto one hand, narrowly avoiding scratching Susan as he landed. The bed
bounced a second time with his weight. There, with her tear-streaked face, eye liner just
starting to run, he almost kissed her. But no... it was too soon.

Instead, Harry murmured the truth, "I want to kiss you right now... but I won't. It's too early,
too soon. But that was fucking brilliant. It hurt, it was so good... but not all the time. Every
once in a while, okay?"

"Okay," Susan replied quietly, "Um... are you... are you going to shag me, Harry?"

That was when he realized how close their lower bodies were, too. His engorged, saliva-slick
cock was beneath Susan's skirt, and the wet heat that surrounded it could only be from her
cunt... but there was a barrier, and that alone was enough to remind him that there was more
at stake here than simply fulfilling his own desires. He was done with being that man.

"No, not today, I'm afraid," Harry said, then used the hand not supporting him to run through
Susan's luxuriously soft hair. It was lighter in color and a lot wavier than Ginny's, but he
found it equally attractive, "It's too soon for both of us, I think. But I did promise a lesson. So
if you still want my cum in or on you, let's change things up, because right now I'm dying to
see the rest of you, too."

Her face had fallen, which surprised Harry, when he said the first bit. But as he finished,
while Susan's blush did return once more, it was closer to a light accent of heat on her cheeks.
As he stood up he moved one of his hands to his dick, enjoying the sensation of his slow
movements while Susan stood up, and, eyes carefully guarded but undeniably aroused,
started to undress. Slowly at first, she removed her robes and tie, then sat down again to slip
off her shoes and stockings, "I suppose it's only fair," she said, more to herself than Harry he
thought, "if... you're the first boy I've seen, then... You'll be the first boy to see me. All of me.
I hope it's, well... to your liking."
"Believe me," Harry exhaled as she stood up once more, her heavy breasts swaying with the
movement, "I'm going to. I already do. You really are very pretty, you know."

"Not like Lyra, or Katie, or Padma and Parvati, or Lavender, or-"

"You are not them, so no, you aren't pretty like them," Harry interrupted her, "You are pretty
like Susan Bones. Trust me, Susan... I want you. I really do. Just look at my cock, do you see
how dark it's turning? That's arousal."

She looked down at him before opening the side of her skirt, her hips too curvy to just push it
down, and gasped. He was indeed swollen enough that even without magic it looked like he
had gained an inch, and the color was starting to look more like that one vein in Vernon
Dursley's head when he was particularly upset.

Thinking about his uncle, thankfully, helped... if only for a moment. Because thoughts of the
man- was he dead, now, Harry idly wondered, or just in hospital...?- were quickly pushed to
the wayside when Susan grabbed him with one hand again, "It's so hard..."

"For you. It's hard for you, Susan."

She looked up at him, then whispered, "I suppose I'd better take responsibility, then."

Her skirt, open now, slithered to the floor past creamy legs. Only clad now in black lace
knickers that matched the bra she had already taken off, Harry gazed on the pale, freckled
skin, slightly rounded tummy, and curved, thick thighs, and narrower waist than he had
expected with awe.

Susan was not a thin girl, but she was hardly overweight. If anything, she was just more
muscular than anyone he'd been with, almost as well-toned as a Muggle athlete or swimmer,
without the pronounced muscle of a bodybuilder. He hadn't even noticed before, because of
the draw her breasts had on his eyes, but now Harry was even more in awe. He gulped, and
felt his dick pulse once more with need.

But he was its master, not the other way around. Not anymore, "You are so, so beautiful. Lay
down, my dear. You can leave them on for now... it'll be more fun later."

She nodded, then stepped back and sat before crawling backward onto the bed. Harry
followed a little less sedately, and settled in to lay next to Susan. He looked down at her,
propped up on one elbow so that hand could play with her hair, tracing along the shell of her
ear to make Susan tremble. The other hand, he used to take hers and guide it to his cock,
"You can keep rubbing. But now it's time for me to teach you a few erogenous zones you
might not have known about... on yourself. Just a few simple ones, for now."

"And... And what's after that?"

Harry smiled, "Then I'm going to make you scream my name to the heavens... with just my
fingers, and maybe my mouth."
Her lips parted, and a soft, pink tongue slid around them, spreading moisture. Harry watched,
and again had to fight the urge to suck on it, to kiss her deeply and long... but for now, he
resisted. He did lean low, and hiss in her ear, "This summer, you and I are going to be doing a
lot of practice. But we should get to know each other a bit more before we kiss. I want to, so
badly, but I won't. Soon, I hope. Is that okay with you?"

Susan whimpered, but nodded.

"Good. Now, ears... just around the shell, of course... or you can- mnnlp- lick the earlobe,
suckle on it... nibble and kiss just below it, right... here..."

Susan shuddered again at his actions, and he watched her bare nipples tighten even further as
she reacted to the faint, gentle touches of finger and mouth, "And of course, you know about
the breasts. I could suck on your nipples, pinch them, roll them in my fingers- the whole
thing's very sensitive."

Susan nodded, "I- I know."

"Good, so you know a little. But I'm not going to. Consider it an exercise in self-restraint on
my end- please don't think there's anything wrong with them, or with you. It really is just-
just me seeing if I can hold myself back. A test of will... and a hard one."

"Your p- d- dick is hard," Susan whispered, a small smile wavering on her still anxious face.

"That it is. Hard for you."

"I know," she said, quieter, almost inaudible, "I..."

Her words shifted into a moan as Harry trailed a finger down the deepest part of the valley
between Susan's huge tits, not quite touching either really, to her navel. It dipped inside there,
"This is one some people find very erotic, and some not... it seems you do."

Susan's breathing hitched as he rubbed her deep navel, and she nodded, "I- I didn't know
that... but yes, I do. I think."

"Armpits... you smell divine. You work out, don't you?"

"Yes. Auntie taught me physical fitness is very important, and can- can save your life against
less healthy witches and wizards."

"She's right. That's one of the benefits of the Runes, that extra stamina and strength also
makes you heal faster from a workout, so you get even more benefits. I didn't look like this
last year- but this part's all natural from a long summer full of exercise."

"It's worth it," Susan told him seriously, "Because you look amazing."

"Thank you," Harry said, blushing himself at the compliment he didn't need empathy to know
was entirely sincere, "You're stunning yourself- I don't think I've ever seen a witch so well-
toned." He didn't let her respond. Instead, Harry dipped his face into the hollow beneath her
arm... it was so pungent, not smelly but with a definite odor of sweat and effort along with
the particular scent that was all Susan, he couldn't help but inhale, then dart his tongue out,
running along the clean-shaven hollow.

She shuddered again, "Oh, Merlin..."

"You like that?"

"Mm, hmm..."

Harry licked again, and a third time, until Susan squeaked again, "Hah... I didn't think that'd
be a turn-on for me, but watching your reactions was," he said with a smile, "You're really
very cute, you know that? That little mouse noise..."

"Sh- Shut up..."

"Nah... Don't forget to wank me, Susan. There's a good girl... the hollow here, just above your
thighs. That's very sensitive. Any place there's a nerve cluster, a place you might be ticklish,
can be arousing, too. I can see this one isn't super strong on you, but you definitely shivered a
little."

"Yes," Susan sighed, "just a little. It feels- feels nice."

Harry moved down now, sitting up to lift one of Susan's voluptuous thighs vertical, her lower
leg held across his body, "The toes..."

He kissed one, then suckled... like her armpits, they stank just a little but mostly with
feminine musk. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as he'd feared, and the bottoms were so
smooth! Moving had pulled his shaft out of Susan's reach, but... "You can also pleasure a man
this way."

He moved again, this time to spread her knees wide as he moved between them, her legs
settling over his, and brought Susan's soles to either side of his erection, "Just rub that way...
You know, I've never had a foot-job? Your feet are so soft, and you're the first one to do this
to me."

"R- Really?"

Harry nodded, "I thought about it with Lilith... she showed me a lot of porn while she was
teaching me all this stuff, but somehow we never got around to it. It's not really a fetish I
have, but I have to admit... It feels brilliant. So soft."

"Thank you," Susan sighed, and visibly put more effort into rubbing her feet up and down
Harry's cock, either alternating or going together.

"You can also sometimes enjoy a touch to the calve, or- one of my favorites- the inside of a
person's thigh, over that big vein just below the crotch. This is a good position for me to
touch you there..."

Susan jumped as his thumbs pressed in, but she didn't stop moving, "Ooh... that's... that's
really nice," she moaned.
He massaged her there for several seconds, then, with more regret than he had expected,
pulled away and settled her feet back down, "The small of your back, your rump- which
looks delicious, by the way- there's dozens, hundreds of places you might never have thought
about. But for now... Susan, if it's alright with you, I'd really, really like to rub your beautiful
pussy."

"Okay," she said at once, all hesitation gone. She reached for her knickers...

Harry put a hand on hers, "No... stop. As much as I'd like that, I also want you to be fully
comfortable."

"I am," Susan protested.

But Harry shook his head, "For now. You might not be later. Trust me, okay? Believe me, I
can get you off with them on. For now, let's just reposition, okay?"

She nodded, a bit confused. Harry got up onto his knees and walked around her that way to
lean against the headboard, his legs wide. She was sitting up by then, watching him. He
beckoned her on, "Come, lean against me, open your legs like this. You can rest, lean back,
and I'll do the work."

"But- But what about you?"

"Your dedication to my pleasure is nice," Harry assured her, "but for now, just let me do this,
please? I'll make you cum. Then, if you still have the energy, you can please me and I can do
you again. If you're too worn out, then I'll go find the others. Okay?"

"A- Alright. I would really like to, though," she reminded him, "I mean, have you... or taste
you, or..."

"I remember. Come on, Susan... there you go."

She looked even more beautiful, Harry decided, from above as she leaned back against him.
Both of his hands covered her breasts now, as he let himself enjoy the feel and heft of them,
"Hah... your willpower isn't that great, huh?" Susan teased, breathing quickly.

"Harder to resist than the Imperius," Harry replied, meaning every word.

"It- It feels good..."

"Thanks. You look and feel amazing yourself. Ron's going to be so jealous..."

Susan whimpered, "You won't tell him...?"

"If you don't want me to, no," Harry murmured into her thick hair, "But he probably already
assumes. He might expect or want you to do things with him, especially after you get some
Runes... but remember, you don't have to. Consent is everything."

"Okay," she said, and surprised him again by continuing, "I don't mind, really... distant
cousins, and all, though. He's a good-looking bloke. N- Neville, too."
Harry grinned, "Does Hannah know you fancy him?"

"We talked about it when- when you first told us he fancied one of us," Susan reminded him,
"Last year."

"Oh, that's right, I'd totally forgotten. Can I tell you a secret? About Neville?"

She shrugged.

"He knew what underwear you were both wearing that day- and so did I. A potion let us see
it. He was so embarrassed! But it was something I felt like I had to do to help him, you know,
work up the nerve to talk to one of you. I wasn't sure who he fancied at the time."

"Hannah thought it was both of us."

"It might've been... but they're good together. Are you envious of her?"

"Not anymore," Susan replied, and twisted to kiss Harry's cheek, then turned back and settled
once more, "Not... not as long as you keep your promise. Don't make me wait too long. I
have... urges, too."

"I know, and I won't," Harry promised her, "This summer, at latest. I swear. I want to protect
everyone I care about, and the Runes are important to that... but I won't use Runes for the first
time. It's too overwhelming. So it does need to be fairly early so you can get settled into the
extra power before school starts back up. That, and, you know, I'm very excited to be with
you... but for now..."

One hand drifted down the very firm mound of her belly, and dipped without hesitation inside
the knickers. He found fur there, much more than he had expected, "You don't shave? Or use
the charm?"

"Never had a need," Susan murmured, "I know it, though."

He shrugged, "I don't mind, but if you don't mind I also like a good trim or shaved. It's just...
well, hair gets caught in teeth when you're going down on someone."

She shuddered, but Harry was not sure if it was the image, the idea, or his fingers slipping
into her soft, very wet, meaty folds, "I'll start, then. Tonight."

"No rush, just whenever you're comfortable with it."

She nodded, and his fingers went to work, "Inner folds are the most sensitive, but without a
real warm-up can be too much to touch this way at first. I won't put more than a knuckle or
two inside, just in case- I don't want to hurt you, and the hymen isn't at the same depth for
everyone."

"Okay. It's... it's still really nice. Better than it feels when I do it. Even better than Hannah."

"Hannah's rubbed you?"

Susan nodded, and he felt her back heat against his chest as she whispered, "She- she was
trying to show me how to... to orgasm. It didn't work, but I pretended it did. I think she knew,
though."

"Hannah's a good friend, probably didn't want to embarrass you."

"Is... is she good? At- at sex?"

"Very," Harry told her, "but don't compare her to yourself. She, uh... well, everyone's
different, but Hannah seemed very eager for her own reasons to get things ramping up
between us. I know some of it was to win over Neville, but..."

"She said you had a very nice penis. She was right."

Harry smiled, "Oh, yeah, I'd almost forgotten she was one of the girls who blew me in the
broom closets... kinky girl."

Then, mentally toward his Succubus, "That's the one time you ever lied to me, wasn't it?"

"What, Master?"

"When you said the girls who gave me blowjobs in the broom closets were the same girls."

"... Maybe..."

"I'm not mad, Pet," Harry sent amusement over the bond, "Though it does prove I was wrong
that you can't lie to me. I'm glad I know you don't often, though. Having fun?"

"Intense fun. You?"

"Susan is a delight. Not much longer and I think we'll be done, and I'll head out."

"Good. Luna's eager to get going, everyone is mostly just teasing her while having fun with
each other. Poor girl's so wound up already, I think she'll explode soon."

"That'll be a sight to see. I'll try to wind up, then. Have fun!"

"You too, Master. Mm... yes, she is delightfully yummy. I had no idea she was so fit."

The connection closed back to its normal, dormant state before Harry could respond, and he
didn't bother sending another back. Instead, he focused on the girl in his arms, "Alright,
Susan... just relax. Pinch your nipples if you want. Maybe suckle on one, if you can reach.
Rest on hand on mine in your knickers, and just follow along..."

"Okay..."

He moved, his fingers sliding up and down her slick channel, and then the first knuckle of the
thickest, middle finger slipped in, and she gasped. His thumb pushed hers out as his hand
turned sideways, to press on her clit, which was small but almost rock-hard beneath its hood,
"It might take some practice," he told her, "but if you can push a finger or two in and out
while also rubbing your clit with your thumb, that's enough for most girls."

"H- Hannah showed me that, but..."

"Hm. Maybe you were too nervous, or tense. Anxiety can make it hard, so can fear. Or...
maybe her timing was just off. I get to cheat a bit, I can feel your response to what I do with
my empathic abilities. So I know right away if it's working or not. I know you like this... and
you want me to speed up."

She sighed as he did, her hips involuntarily shifting toward his hand, seeking more.

Harry slowly pushed the finger inside her further, mindful of her hymen, but he couldn't feel
it when the second knuckle hit the entrance, "That's deep enough... but you want more, I
know. Sorry, sweetie... for now, this should be enough. Just let yourself relax. Surrender to
the feelings. Let it go... let yourself feel so good."

"I do," Susan sighed, "It's already so good. Better than Hannah did, and you just- just
started."

"Keep relaxing, then," Harry assured her, his voice low and soothing enough that he felt her
response to the rumble at her back as a soft wave of sonic enjoyment, "Sink into it. Revel in
the relaxation, the pleasure. Know that I care, I want you to have pleasure, to feel safe. I want
you to cum for me, Susan."

She didn't say anything, but her breathing increased in pace along with his fingers, one
plunging in and out to the second knuckle, the other whirring in tiny little circles right over
her hood, "S- Something's happening," she whimpered after a minute or more, "it's... it's too
much. It's so much, it's so good, Harry. Harry, I- I can't sto- stop, stop, sto-
aaaaaaaaaaahhhHhhhh....."

The crescendo was almost anticlimactic, though the evidence of climax jetted through the
black lace of Susan's panties in a fine mist with the force of her squirt when she finally let go.
Her body trembled and shook against him, and Harry's hand slowed but did not still as he
rode with her through it, her body a delightful, shivering presence against his shaft pinned
between them.

Finally, she was back to herself, and Harry removed his hand from her knickers. Two fingers
were held toward her face, "Taste yourself, dear Susan... taste your pleasure but leave some
for me."

She seemed hesitant, but opened her lips just enough for Harry to push two fingers inside.
She suckled gamely, too, as he murmured, "That's your first real orgasm you're tasting, yeah?
It tastes good, doesn't it?"

She moaned, turning toward him with the urging of his fingers in her mouth. When he was
able to see her eyes, he found them half-lidded, glassy... but shining with happiness. When
she'd had her fill, Harry pulled them out and suckled on the last finger himself. She was
sweet, tart, a bit sour, almost like a salty-sugar candy, with a little bit of citrus fruit mixed in,
"You taste so good, Susan. I'm going to love going down on you when I get the chance."

"Mm... it was weird, but I did like it," she replied, "Um... I'm kind of tired, but I want..."

"It's alright," Harry assured her, then stroked a hand through her hair, "I know, that took a lot
out of you. Just rest. I'll still be here if you want more, you know, later. Just... rest..."

She was asleep, his Eye of Dominance putting her under as effectively as any spell or potion
specifically for that purpose. Harry gently slipped out from behind her and settled her in the
bed manually, then flipped the covers over her before he moved to take up his wand. Not that
he feared leaving it. He even left his clothes, but the wand might be useful for fun. With a
flick, he wordlessly settled and folded Susan's on the foot of the bed, then slipped through the
curtain.

As first lessons went, it was probably the most fun he'd ever had in his life, and he couldn't
wait for more. Well... maybe second. There was, after all, Lilith's first blowjob, too. That was
hard to top.
 Moon Phase

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

NOTE: Y'all, if you haven't seen an update for a week, PM me. lol I totally spaced
updating this (and ZPoW) 'cause I was sick, but it isn't like I wasn't at my PC working
still. I could've updated a few days ago now, just didn't occur to me to do so. lol
 Chap. 94: Moon Phase
Harry's cock was standing tall and proud, ten inches long and easily two thick, eager for
pleasure and release when he slipped through the curtains into the area with the couches
where this meeting started. Most people were still on the couches, but they had spread out a
bit more. On the rear couch, closest to Harry on the left, Tracey was in the middle while
Daphne and Ginny together assaulted her lips with their own. He smiled when he saw the
blonde leave her girlfriend's lips to snog Ginny alone for several seconds, which the fiery,
copper-haired girl returned with enthusiasm, and a hand on the busty blonde's bum.

Next to them in the central rear couch, another pair of girls were doing a little more than just
snogging. Hermione was laying sideways along it, her head up on one arm, with a foot on the
floor and the other curled around Pansy's lower legs as she knelt over the other girl. Pansy
had Hermione's shirt open and was suckling on her beautiful, full breasts, while one of the
brunette's hands circled Pansy's waist to grope her buttocks beneath the hiked-up skirt, and
the other snaked between them to work the Slytherin's cunt.

The most vanilla, at the moment, were Ron and Lavender, the blonde girl situated on the edge
of another couch, her legs hiked around the ginger's shoulders as he shagged her with long,
slow movements at odds with their shared, wanton expressions.

Hannah, Neville, and Lilith were on the floor, the Succubus in a form somewhere between
Harry's normal, petite size and the bustier, young-woman sized form Ron preferred. The
Succubus was riding the wizard's cock as he lay on his back, one sock on and his shirt still
hanging off of one arm but otherwise nude. Both of his hands guided the gyrations Hannah
was making as she sat on his face, her mouth gobbling down Lilith's futa-cock. Harry felt his
own erection throb with renewed vigor as he thought about going there first and either
shoving it deeply into the Succubus' rectum, or giving it to the Hufflepuff while her boyfriend
kept eating her out.

But not yet.

Padma and Parvati were off to the side a bit, both visibly blushing as they sat on opposite
ends of another couch watching the show. Parvati, ever the more adventurous and forward of
the two, was openly masturbating over her knickers, while Padma, more withdrawn by
nature, was rubbing her thighs together with one hand in her lap and the other resting on one
breast, but not moving. Aside from the hitch in Parvati's skirt, both twins were fully dressed,
but their ties were loose and they had multiple buttons undone. Padma's, Harry noticed, was a
little more open by two buttons, though her blouse was still half closed.

This just left Luna and Katie. The older girl and Luna were on a couch together as well now,
Luna laid out across it with her feet against one arm, and her head on Katie's lap. The dusky-
skinned girl was now in only her knickers, without even her bra despite Harry's knowledge
that, so far, she hadn't been intimate with anyone in the room aside from himself. At least,
until now. Katie's fingers were trailing up and down Luna's completely nude body, lightly
grazing over her as she shivered. The blonde was watching Lilith bounce on Neville's rod
more than the rest, and he grinned. Luna was no blushing virgin, for all her outward
innocence, but she was clearly not used to the gentle touches tracing patterns against her skin
that Katie was giving her. Had she ever even been with a woman before? Well, a human one,
Harry corrected, because Alra was definitely feminine. But she was also simple enough, he
thought, to jump straight into plunging her tentacle-vines straight into Luna's eager holes
without much thought for foreplay. If Katie had been doing this more or less since Susan's
lesson had started, then it had been almost an hour.

Really, they're taking their sweet time getting into the thick of things, Harry thought with
some amusement. But that's alright, I can speed things up.

"Lilith, make him cum in Hannah's mouth, I need you," he announced.

Mid-bounce, his Succubus tossed a wink Harry's way and lifted up on invisible wings in a
smooth maneuver that moved her pelvis back. Hannah's head was already in place, and as
Lilith's dick left the blonde's mouth, the Succubus shoved it right back down on her
boyfriend's squat member instead, "What can I do for you, Master?"

Harry gestured to Luna, "I think our subject of the evening has been teased enough... for now.
Why don't we get her on one of the beds? Susan's sleeping for now, and I doubt she'll wake
up for a few hours."

"Alright. Come along, Childe of the Moon, it's time to make you one of us."

"Yippee!" Luna cheered, throwing herself off Katie's lap and into a roll that briefly had the
girl on one knee, before she all-but sprinted around Harry and toward the bed-filled section.

He just caught her with an arm around her belly, his magically enhanced strength easily
enough to halt her momentum just slowly enough it didn't hurt her, "Hold on, Luna. Before
we start, we should have everyone there. Come on, you lot. Either wait a bit, or cum and get
in here, we should get started."

If any of them muttered dark thoughts, Harry was unaware of it as he swept Luna into a
giggling bridal-style carry and used her feet to push open the curtains, then crossed the
barrier once more. He set her down carefully as she peppered soft kisses up and down his
neck and bare chest on the way to the central bed, just as Ron, perhaps the most neglected
among the group, stepped through as well. The others followed more or less quickly,
Neville's face glistened, and a string of white ran down Hannah's chin. All of them, now, had
some evidence of their activities over the last hour, from partially undone clothing to ruffled
hair. The Patil sisters looked the most put-together, but as she came through, Parvati was
already undoing the last few buttons of her shirt, "Alright," Harry started as the last one
inside, Padma, pulled the curtains closed again, "Most of us know how this works. First set's
easy: she needs to cause another person to climax orally, vaginally, and anally. Given what I
know of Luna, that won't be hard. One person each, Luna. Who do you want to satisfy with
your mouth?"

The blonde cast her eyes around the room a couple of times, then pointed airily at Katie, "I
think I'm done with the foreplay, and would like Katie Bell to step things up. Onto my face.
With her pussy."
There were a couple of chuckles at the unneeded clarification, and the olive-skinned Chaser
nodded, "I'll... be fine with that. I'd like to see if you can make me orgasm, actually. But you
might need to have a backup."

"Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary," Lilith told her, "once we get things going you'll be
plenty aroused to climax, trust me. And if not, I can always help out a little." The suggestive
waggle of her bright pink eyebrows as she idly stroked the full-size, arm-length dick between
her legs made even Katie blush.

"I think I'd like Ronald in my bum," Luna decided after a moment of more laughter at Katie's
embarrassment.

"Er... You sure, Luna?" Ron asked, "I mean, I'm a bit long, and you aren't exactly a towering
girl."

"Quite sure, thank you," she replied with a smile, "But I appreciate your concern. And Harry
in my tight pussy. I know that's his favorite."

Soon, she was smiling, seeming quite at ease with being tied down to the posts of the bed, in
contrast to nearly everyone else who'd gotten their first Rune-set this way. When Katie
climbed up onto Luna's head and sat down, the girl sighed, "O- Oh... Okay... Yes, this is nice.
I ca- huh- can't believe you've never done this b- before, Luna."

He couldn't tell what the girl beneath Katie said as she eagerly went about licking and laving
while also trying to talk, but Harry got the distinct impression that Luna had been dreaming
about doing this very act, or something like it, for nearly as long as she'd been sexually
involved with the Alraune. Or at least, since Lilith had started feeding her dreams on the first
night she had been Summoned. It explained her enthusiasm, anyway.

The others mostly circled around the bed, with Hannah sparing Susan's sleeping form a
glance, much as they would have done in the sex dungeon. Only this time, having been
interrupted in the midst of their fun, the various members of Harry's cotierre seemed to make
it a point to stand in couples or trios close enough that they could keep hands on each other.
Daphne and Tracey, and Hermione and Pansy continued rubbing each other more than
themselves, while Lavender made herself useful by cleaning Neville's dick with her mouth,
then sliding to the next person, who happened to be Ginny, and licking at her tight, bare-
shaven pussy in turn. Ginny, meanwhile, started stroking Neville back to full mast, while
Hannah and Ron pleased each other with their hands. Padma and Parvati stayed a little bit
further off once more, but Harry watched Padma give him a saucy wink before stepping
behind her sister and bringing her own hands up to cup Parvati's breasts over her now-
exposed bra.

Ginny was happy to stand there and watch Luna and Katie together while Lavender went
down on her, which left just Harry and Lilith left. He was content, for now, to simply watch
and enjoy his friends' pleasure, but the Succubus had work to do. She started off by blowing
Harry and he let her coax out a load of semen to start the storage-sphere for Luna's Runes. By
the time she had throated him to completion, at least giving him some relief from the build-
up he had from Susan's lesson, Katie was writhing on top of Luna's face, gasping loudly and
frequently as Luna's inexperienced but enthusiastic cunnilingus brought Katie to an orgasm
far faster than she had expected.

"Told you," Harry chuckled as the older witch collapsed to the side, nearly falling off the bed
in bliss, "Luna might not have eaten pussy before now, but she's hardly as innocent as she
seems."

"To be fair, I've been training her in dreams for thirteen and a half months," Lilith informed
them, "and she's almost as eager a student as Ginny."

"It shows," Katie sighed, "I haven't cum that hard since... well, Harry."

"Thank you," Luna acknowledged the compliment with a pleased smile, "I quite enjoyed
your flavor, Katie."

The girl blinked, "My- flavor? What do you mean?"

"Like a lemon-baked salmon, or tuna," Luna told her, still smiling, then licked her shining
lips, "As good as a muggle chef could make."

"You're weird," Katie decided, chuckling as she sat up, but decided against standing fully,
"Ooh... dizzy. I came really hard, haa... You can do that any time you want, Luna."

"I'll be happy to, if you return the favor," the smaller girl agreed, then looked toward Harry, "I
think I'd like Ronald to bugger me before you, Harry, if you don't mind."

The red-head looked up, "Er, already? Alright, if you're sure. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Luna promised, "I'm quite used to taking things up my bum. That's why I chose
you, actually. It'll feel the closest to them."

Ron gave a confused look to Harry as he stepped out of the circle and climbed onto the bed,
taking care not to jostle Lilith as she started drawing Runes already, beginning with a core set
in the center of Luna's forehead that, to Harry, definitely resembled an eye of some sort. Ron
accepted Harry's wand providing some greasy lubricant to his member before he positioned it
at Luna's rear hole. He hesitated for a moment, but after Lilith said, "Trust us, Ron, she'll be
just fine," he pushed in smoothly.

"Shit, she's... pretty loose," Ron chuckled, "I didn't really think it'd be that easy."

Harry hadn't been about to let any of Luna's secrets out, but it appeared the younger girl
didn't care whatsoever to keep them as she explained, "I regularly let a creature with twenty-
foot vines use my holes for sexual pleasure. They're about as thick as you, but much longer.
I'm used to it. That... that does feel nice, though. You are much firmer than the vines are.
More.... hmmm... rigid. Yes, that's the word."

Harry shook his head, amused once more at how nonchalant Luna of all people was when
getting buggered, and watched by a dozen people doing it. All, of course, while a Succubus
was drawing strange symbols on her forehead, "Never change, Luna."
"I don't intend to," she agreed amiably, "though I'm sure it's equally inevitable. You can go
faster, Ronald."

He wasn't able to dive quite to his full length with the way Luna was tied to the bed more or
less spread-eagle, but Harry was still impressed that, despite the angle, his best friend's long
cock made a bulge in the waifish girl's belly every time his thighs made contact with hers.
Even though he had just climaxed, Harry was already ready for more. The problem was,
Katie was a mite sensitive still, Lilith was busy, and by now most of the other girls were
either entertaining each other quite thoroughly, either intensely snogging or, in Hermione and
Pansy's case, sixty-nining each other on one of the other beds.

But the Patil twins weren't.

Harry sidled over casually. He knew, thanks to their earlier conversation, that the girls did
intend to join the group in full, but he hadn't really spoken at length to either of them since
the Yule Ball, and that had been a disaster. Now he was watching Padma, the quiet one, grope
her twin sister's breasts while both of them watched several other people blow, suck, fuck,
lick, or sodomize each other. Most of them were more naked than not, with the Patils being
the most clothed, "Having fun?"

Padma, intent on pleasing her sister, jumped when Harry spoke. Parvati only smiled and
nodded, brazenly pushing her chest further into her sister's hands. One of her own moved
over her shoulder to brush through Padma's hair, while the other extended to circle Harry's
dick without a word, "Loads," the Gryffindor sister sighed happily, "I can't believe this has
been going on for almost a year and we didn't know. That I didn't know. I mean, Lavender's
been shagging you for how long, and I didn't know?"

"About as long as she's been shagging other people," Harry admitted, glancing over at the girl
who lived up to the moniker of Slave very well, as she was once more servicing Ginny and
Neville together, "I made one of her dreams come true early this year. Well, about mid-way
through the first term, I guess. People were already starting to get a little more open-minded
thanks to Lilith's aura, so it probably didn't get noticed that someone like Lavender, who's
always been very flirty, started doing a bit more."

"I certainly noticed, but everyone was doing more," Parvati replied, "I mean... aside from
pretty much everyone just snogging people when they felt like it, it didn't seem that strange.
She was always doing a bit more than everyone else, so when she started blowing people in
the common room corners, or shagging... I never thought much of it."

"How long has this been going on, though?" Harry asked, gesturing at the girls, who hadn't
stopped their attention for each other, "I know it's the first sign of it I've seen, but..."

It was not the first time Harry had seen twins, especially identical ones, communicate without
speaking, but there was a brief pause as Padma's hands went still, then she answered for both,
"We have been a little intimate since summer before last. After the tournament. Our
grandmother had started teaching us massage, and it... got us excited. We helped relieve each
other's tension, and things... escalated. Why? Do you think it strange?"
"I'm not complaining," he said with a smile, hoping it broadcast to his face as well, "I think
it's pretty hot, to be honest. And if I had a problem with girls enjoying each other's company...
don't you think I'd have said something before now? Look at Daphne and Tracey, or
Hermione and Pansy. I know for a fact Hannah is dying for Susan to get her Runes, so she'll
have an excuse, and permission, to bury her face in the poor girl's tits."

"They are impressive," Parvati chuckled, glancing to her right, where Susan slept blissfully
unaware of the orgy taking place a dozen feet away, "I wouldn't mind myself, but... we're a
bit... different."

Harry shrugged, "It's no different to me. You two are happy with each other, that's fine. You
want more, that's fine. You clearly want in on all of this... and that's fine. You're beautiful,
and I'm fond of you both. I trust you. I don't need more than that to at least let you participate,
or even get your first Rune-set, like Luna is doing tonight. If you want more, well... we'll
need to spend some time together. Get to know each other better. Parvati, we've been in the
same House for six years and I feel like we're practically strangers. Aside from the D.A.,
Padma and I basically are. I think we should take things gradually. The speed will depend on
how comfortable we all are with each other, but gradually all the same."

"I'd like that," Padma agreed, then looked down her sister's front to where Parvati was still
sliding her fingers up and down Harry's shaft, "I'd also like that."

"What Pads isn't saying," Parvati whispered, loudly enough that anyone not grunting or
moaning behind Harry would hear, "is that she's a girl who prefers girls, but wants you, too."

"Oh? Is that so? Hah... that's kind of common apparently," Harry said, his face pinking a
little, "Daphne and Tracey are in the same boat... though Tracey not as much, as she says
she's bisexual."

"Not Pansy, or Hermione? I was under the impression Hermione liked women quite a lot
after... well, a couple days ago."

"Hm? What happened a couple days ago?" Harry asked, confused, "I mean, aside from the
attacks, of course."

Parvati turned to look at Padma this time, switching hands on his dick, then pulled her sister
close to whisper into her ear. When they separated, the Gryffindor shrugged and looked back
to him, while Padma's hand joined her sister's on his shaft seamlessly, "Lavender pulled
something, and we gave her a massage. Hermione wanted to watch, said something about this
green energy in our auras, which she could see because of her powers she got from Lilith, or
something. We, uh... kind of did some stuff together. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind?" Harry chuckled, glancing at the two girls Parvati had mentioned, "I don't mind at all.
I wish Lavender had come to me, but I'd also admit I know nothing about massage, so I'm
glad you could help. And Hermione and Lavender are, like the rest of us, free to shag
whomever they want. I don't own anyone here. We're... sort of in a group relationship, but
we're also pretty open. As long as both parties consent, and are of a reasonable age to, then I
don't mind pretty much whatever."
This time, it was Padma who whispered something into her sister's ear, hissing, almost snake-
like in speed and tone. Parvati grinned, then nodded, "Soon."

Padma smiled back, then sank to her knees, "I've never blown a boy before," she admitted, "I
hope I'm alright."

Her sister followed suit a moment later, "I've done it a few times... I'll show you how."

Harry's eyes widened as the girls removed their ties, their blouses, and even opened their
skirts. Then, when they took off their bras, blue for Padma and a spicy red for Parvati, he
boggled, "You're both gorgeous."

"Thank you," the twins murmured together, then leaned in to share a passionate kiss. A
moment later, Harry sighed as Parvati took him in her mouth. She wasn't unpracticed, he
could tell, but she was also not an expert. The witch was definitely eager, though, and took a
third of him easily, while her hand and her sister's worked the rest of his length in surprising
unison. After a good minute, once he was nice and slobbery again, Parvati popped off him
and turned to her sister, giving her a quick peck, "See? It's that easy. Just put it in, close your
lips, and bob. You can give a little suction, move your tongue around it. Nothing to worry
about."

"Nope," Harry urged, "Most guys are easy to please, that way. There's ways to make it better,
but if it's your first time, don't worry about it. Just do what comes naturally and you'll be
fine."

"I want it to be good though," Padma murmured quietly, "I... I don't like failing."

"Hah," Harry laughed quietly, "You won't, I promise. Trust me, Padma... having twins go
down on a bloke is very often their wildest fantasy. Having two twins as gorgeous as you two
do it? It'd drive guys wild just at the idea. You'll be able to make it good for me, I promise.
And if not, well... Parvati can always show you a few things. I know you learn well from
watching."

"Mm." She didn't say anything else, but leaned in to lick his head in a slow circle. Then she
mirrored her sister, their dark eyes meeting for just a moment before she took him in her
mouth, too, "Oh, wow. You sure you haven't done this before?"

Padma sent him a faux-annoyed glare, but Parvati giggled, "She really is just that good at
learning, she's always been quick to pick things up if they're demonstrated properly. I can't
wait to see what she can do with a master like Hermione showing her how it's done."

"How do you know Hermione's a master?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"Girls talk," Parvati said, and didn't say anything else on the subject even though he asked
again. Instead, she turned her attention downward, to let one hand circle her sister's narrow
waist and slip two fingers against her pussy, while the other slid up Harry's muscular leg to
knead his ass.
Meanwhile, Padma took him out of her mouth to lave her tongue over him several times,
doing her best to cover everything she could reach, including her side all the way down to his
base. When she did that, Parvati leaned in too, and soon he had both twins' tongues swirling
up and down, on all sides, occasionally tangling together in a drooling, sloppy kiss over his
cock.

"Brilliant," Harry sighed, and both hands found their way to rest on the girl's heads, "That's
so fucking amazing. Keep licking me... or you can blow me again, that works too, Parvati.
Shit..."

The more brazen twin grinned around his shaft as she went back to bobbing. He watched her
along with Padma for a bit, before he had an idea. A glance told him none of the rest were
paying attention, so he dropped his voice to a low, commanding tone, "Padma... I know
you've done it before, but why don't you show me how much you like fingering your sister
while you blow me?"

"Okay," the quiet girl acknowledged. Parvati made way for her, and soon he was back in the
relatively innocent, untouched mouth of Padma Patil, while both girls took turns fondling
their identical breasts, and the spare hand either worked his shaft or pleasured the other.

Harry was, to be frank, quite turned on and knew he wasn't going to last longer. Many boys in
Hogwarts had dreamed of having either of the Patils give their todger a bit of oral love. Many
had dreamed of having both at the same time... and it was real, for him, in this moment.

He smiled, and let nature take its course rather than bothering to manipulate it, "Padma,
Parvati... I'm getting close. Where do you want me to cum?"

The two quickly broke their kiss, and once more an exchange happened between them
without words. Then, as one, their soft brown eyes turned up to him, "In our mouths first,
Harry?"

"Your wish is my command, ladies," he grinned, and took over pumping the lower half. Once
Padma's hand moved, the rest took only moments. They had just enough time to turn and face
him, hands still on each other's cunts, before he unloaded several sticky blasts into both
waiting, wide-open mouths.

Finally, near-sated for the next five minutes or so, Harry sighed and let go of himself, "Go
ahead and swallow, ladies... as appealing as the sight is, I do need to get to Luna soon."

"Aww," Parvati whispered, "I was hoping you'd be my first shag..."

"Now that is a dream I can make come true, if you want," Harry replied, "but we are here for
a specific reason tonight, after all. Once Luna's done she'll need sating. Probably all of us will
have to take a turn, and I'll be doing my fair share more than once... if you don't mind going
down on her, too."

The girls, still with some of his semen in their mouths that Padma seemed to be savoring
rather a lot for a girl who was into other girls, shared another glance. Parvati answered for
them both with a shrug, "I don't mind, and I know Pads was never one to be mean to Luna,
unlike some of the girls in their House. I don't think it'll be a problem. We aren't... in a
relationship, you know? Us, I mean. I'd... I think we'd both rather be with you, than with each
other. We're too different, really, to make it work, aside from... you know, the other things.
Things we have in common."

Harry nodded, grinning slyly, "I think I get what you mean. Alright, well... we can definitely
discuss it again. Let's talk on the Train tomorrow, if nothing else, and I'll share the location of
where I'll be staying this summer."

"Okay," Parvati agreed, then turned to her sister and immediately started French-kissing her,
probably to try and steal some extra semen if Harry had to guess, while he turned to the rest
of the group.

He didn't really like the Patils being on the outside, either intentional or otherwise. He wanted
them in... but there was only so much they could do in a day. Lilith was still recovering, and
this would probably drain her considerably. But over the summer, he hoped they could
continue applying Runes. With himself, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fleur, and whoever else
could visit, it should be possible easily enough, and he didn't imagine the French beauty
would turn down more sex from him or any of his friends. They just had to make the time.

His eyes widened as he saw what the others had gotten up to while he had been busy with the
twins. Neville was balls-deep in Pansy's tight arse while the dark-haired girl licked away at
both Ginny and Hannah, their pussies grinding together as they snogged laying on their sides.
Hermione, Daphne, and Tracey were all naked now too, and Hermione was showing the
gorgeous blonde the delights of her much-enchanted, oft-used purple dildo, while the petite
brunette scissored Lavender of all people, who had her own face buried between Katie's legs
from the back, while the older witch struggled to stay standing, braced against the foot of the
bed on which Ron was now hammering madly, sweat flying from his forehead, into Luna's
tight bunghole.

He seemed close to finishing, his hands dug into Luna's creamy, pale thighs, and Lilith had
paused in applying her Runes, now between Luna's firm, bouncing breasts, until the rocking
stopped.

Ron came with a grunt and a groan, hunching forward over Luna's equally sweaty body as his
long shaft pulsed virile seed into the young witch's arse.

His friend wasted little time in pulling his long, sensitive dick out of the small girl, and he
grinned as Lilith quickly throated him, using her powers to clean the rod so another girl could
enjoy it without any remnants of distasteful... stuff. Then Ron turned toward Katie, who gave
him a judging glance. She must have decided it was alright though, and shifted, angling
herself away from Lavender a bit to start sucking the red-head.

Harry smiled internally. Katie may not have much of a reputation among Gryffindor, aside
from being one of their Quidditch team's Flying Foxes, but he doubted any of the others,
Angelina included, had ever had three different Weasley wizards in their mouth.

He watched for a moment as he approached the bed, then climbed on with little preamble to
take his place between Luna's sweat-slicked, bare legs, "Are you going to fuck me, Harry
Potter?" she asked, no doubt teasing despite herself for the many hints she had dropped that
he had not recognized before the Slug Club's party at Yule.

"This time, Luna? Yes, I intend to," he told her with a smile, and slipped inside. She was as
deliciously tight and wet, warm as always, and the witch's pussy folded and molded itself to
his huge cock like very few others ever had outside of the Succubus herself, "Shit, Luna...
you always feel so good."

"You do, too," she whispered, "don't tell anyone."

Lilith and Harry both snorted in quiet amusement as Harry started rocking. Gently at first, but
he knew she wouldn't take long to adjust to his size, so he quickly ramped up until he was
slamming in hard enough to make the bed bounce. Lilith sent him an annoyed look along
with, "Really, Master? I had just started drawing Runes again."

"I know, love," Harry told her, "but think of it this way: the second Luna climaxes, I can fill
her pussy to the brim, and you'll have all the seed you need for the whole process. Then you
can just write... and dear Luna can wait, and wait, and suffer, while we have fun without her
again."

"Rude!" Luna chided, sounding genuinely offended.

But Harry wasn't done yet. He leaned over her, kissed the girl's lips tenderly even as his cock
slammed home again and again, as forcefully as he dared with her small body, "and then we
can all use you, fuck you, break you in half with three cocks at once, and as many pussies as
you can finger."

Luna blinked. Then smiled, "That sounds alright, then. Fuck me harder, Harry!"

He obliged, gladly, and soon dumped not just one but two loads into the girl's eager womb.
Then he backed off after she'd orgasmed herself, if only to let Lilith work.

The others did a more than adequate job entertaining him, and he was able to enjoy the
delightful bodies of every girl there (including another solo blowjob from Parvati, though
Padma demurred to go down on Hermione, instead), while the Succubus went about her task.

Then it was done, and what might have been considered a relatively tame orgy quickly
descended into a wild free-for all that Harry struggled to remember the next day, or even
years later.

All he knew, for sure, was that Luna had been the randiest any of them had ever been after
Runes, and it took all of them, even the Patils, Daphne, and Tracey, several rounds of
servicing the slight-bodied blonde before she was satisfied and drifted off to a peaceful,
exhausted slumber.

All in all, Harry decided as he drifted off to sleep himself, with Lilith in one arm and a worn-
out Lavender in the other, it was a decent end to an overall good year. At least the darkness
that had plagued it was gone, with Malfoy out of the picture and Nott very much dead. Even
if they had lost Dumbledore and the fight was not over, Harry had a decent idea of what to
do, and a plan to do it. At least, the beginnings of one.

He smiled as he fell asleep, trying unsuccessfully to figure the sheer number of orgasms he'd
need to get Runes for everyone he cared most about taken care of, but secure in the
knowledge that at least the bulk of it would be taken care of over the summer break.
 Consequence Falling

As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's
posted up past chapter 110 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week,
please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as
well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to
my DISCORD here: https://discord.gg/N9yDA8t6Cw

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle
Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, with links to everything published.

Sorry I didn't get this up yesterday. Had a D&D game that went really late last night, and I
was just too exhausted after to post. If you follow it, ZPoW should be up soon.

Chap. 95 Consequence Falling

Boarding the Hogwarts Express was as chaotic as ever. While Harry and his friends were a
sea of relative calm, the younger students were excited at the prospect of going home again
and having a summer mostly free of school work. The older students, however, those who
understood the gravity of the attack and the Headmaster's subsequent demise, were often just
as energetic, but in a manic, anxious way. The attack at the start of the Yule break, and the
more recent assault on the castle itself, seemed to have convinced many that the safety they
had once believed they possessed was little more than a shaky illusion.

Even if Harry was bound and determined to provide that safety himself, if there was another
attack.

They boarded the scarlet train relatively peacefully, his closest friends staying close once
more while the rest went to spend time with their other friends. He wasn't aware of any
organization like Pansy and the others had pulled off last time, but he was aware of several
conversations he was expected to have during the ride. Once again, Harry's trip home was
going to be busy.

At least this trip 'home' won't be going to see the Dursleys, he thought with a wry sort of
smile. Even if things were undeniably better there now, and he would miss Penny, Jill, Sunny,
and Chelsea in Little Whinging (or at least enjoy the variety of the girls' shag-styles
compared to his more regular partners), he was glad to be going to the quaint town Sirius,
and now his own home, rested in instead.

First, however, was the train ride itself and all the conversations (and hopefully other things)
that would transpire.

Harry deposited his trunk in the compartment which Ron, Hermione, and Neville were sitting
in, then told them, "I'm probably going to be in and out for a while, like last time. Keep your
eyes and ears open, yeah?"

"Constant Vigilance," Neville and Ron replied with a chuckle that made Hermione roll her
eyes as she fished through her backpack for the tome she had decided to read on the way
home.

"May as well start with the hardest one first," he told Lyra, as Ginny passed them in the hall,
headed for the circle of friends she had made before truly becoming one of Harry's.

"Do you want me to come, Master?"

Harry debated it as he spotted Daphne leading Tracey down the corridor of the train through
the door that led to the next car, but shook his head, "Maybe stay close, but I don't think it's
going to come to blows. And if it does, I'm sure I can handle those two."

"Suit yourself," Lyra shrugged, then rose up on her tiptoes to deliver a brief, searing kiss
before she slipped around him to enter the compartment too, dragging her rarely-used trunk
behind her. A few minutes later, the two Slytherins started to pass, when Harry held out his
hand, "Excuse me, Daphne, Tracey. I need a word with you and your sister. It's important."

The blonde glanced back and forth around the crowded corridor, then shrugged, "I suppose
it's not a secret who I've sided with any longer. I'll go get Astoria, then. Go with Harry,
Tracey?"

"Actually," the young wizard said, "I specifically don't need to talk to Tracey about this. It's
just you and Astoria for now, Daphne. Unless you have something else to talk about,
Tracey...?"

"I do not," the waifish girl replied, though she seemed as confused and surprised by the
statement as Daphne was, "I will go find a compartment, I suppose."

"You can sit in here if you want," he offered, "I'm sure they won't mind even without me."

The brunette stood on her tiptoes to see through the compartment door for a moment, then
nodded, "I... have questions for Granger. I will do that, thank you, Harry."

Then she was gone, and Daphne hissed, "What's this about, Harry? The- the letter my father
sent over Yule?"

"Not here," he told her just as quietly but a lot more firmly, "It's a private matter for you and
your sister. Yes, it involves your parents and one of the letters they sent me over Yule. That's
all I'll say about it right now."

Daphne gave him a measuring look for several seconds, then nodded and glanced at his
friends' compartment, "Let me put my trunk in there, and I'll go get her. At least I know
where she was, so it should save some time."

Harry nodded, "I'll be right here. I might be looking for a compartment for a minute, but I
should be back fairly soon."
The witch nodded, then gave him another strange look before heading back up the train,
struggling to go against the flow of traffic. It was, thankfully, starting to slow. Before long the
line of cars would start moving, and several hours later, they would arrive in London. At
least, if the journey went as it was supposed to. He hadn't had any visions of Voldemort at all
since the day of the attack, nor had his scar prickled in the slightest, so it was hard to predict
what he might be doing.

Of course the news of Dumbledore's death had leaked long before the funeral itself, so Harry
was sure he was planning something. It would be too simple for him to have perished in the
light of the sun as it destroyed half of Malfoy Manor.

Harry couldn't find a spare compartment by the time he reached the back of the train, but on
the return trip, he was able to convince two fourth-year students to vacate one in return for
some attention from 'one of the prettiest girls in the school'. He thought about sending
Lavender to do the deed, as he knew she appreciated being shared around quite a lot, but
decided on Lyra doing it instead. If it became a problem over the summer, she would simply
have to assume a new persona before the next year started. Then again, she could simply look
like someone else, too.

He made it back to his friend's compartment just after Daphne returned with her sister, and
soon they were back inside the one he had bribed people to leave to him. His first order of
business once they were in the compartment was to check it with Homenum Revelio, then he
turned to Daphne, "Any privacy charms you can put up, you might want to."

He let her do several, then added a couple more he had learned about from Pansy, Hermione,
and a some he had learned in the many Defense books he'd read for Dumbledore's Army, then
pulled out the slightly wrinkled letter he had last received from their father before he sat
down on one side, gesturing for the sisters to sit on the other, "Astoria, your father sent me
this letter just before we came back to Hogwarts. I received it and read it on the day we
boarded the Train last time. Daphne has read it, but hasn't been aware of my response except
in general terms. I think it's time you read it yourself."

He held it out and waited patiently, watching as the younger girl's face turned red, then white,
then back to red, before settling on pink. The whole while the sisters shared several
significant looks but not a single word.

"You've had this for months," Astoria asked he and Daphne quietly, looking up at them for
the first time in several minutes, "Months, and this is the first I've heard of it. I mean, I know
what Father's doing, but why am I just hearing about it now? This is too much, even for
him!"

"You did stay with him already," Daphne reminded her calmly, her blue eyes and placid
expression behind the steely tone reminding Harry very much of an angry Dumbledore in that
moment, "Perhaps that was just a precursor. Perhaps Father simply wanted to see what Harry
did with you, or you with him. I'm still curious as to why he did not ask me."

Harry shrugged helplessly, "I don't know- I didn't know then, and I don't know now- how to
tell you, Astoria. What was I supposed to say? 'Hi, Astoria, that was a good lunch, wasn't it?
By the way, I'm supposed to become your Guardian after Daphne and my Contract activates.'
I'm sure that'd have gone over well."

Astoria fought and failed to stifle a giggle as Daphne turned red-faced once more, "That
doesn't mean anything. You could have spoken with me at any time."

"I could have, yes, I suppose," Harry agreed, "but you might recall the last several months
have been a bit busy. Sometimes it slipped my mind. I know it's important, but I can't
remember everything all the time, Astoria, I'm not Hermione. Other times, it was just a lower
priority. And at others, it wasn't the right time, or I didn't know what to say. I'm saying it
now."

Daphne's eyes narrowed, but her sister waved him on expectantly.

Harry sighed, looked at the younger girl, then back at Daphne, "I'm going to do it, unless
either of you have strong objections. If you do, now or at any point before my birthday, tell
me, and I'll do whatever I can to... I don't know, make alternate arrangements. I don't know
how that will affect... us, our Contract, but I don't see any reason not to try and keep you and
Astoria safe. This is the best way to do that. At least, I don't see any reason to believe your
father's wrong."

"I don't like it," the older witch said, her voice dangerously silky and soft, "I don't like it at
all. I didn't like it then, and just as little now."

"What part don't you like?" Harry asked, leaning back in the seat, "I don't really like it either.
We've talked more than once about me not being ready to be a father. But this isn't that. It's
close, sure, but it's more like what you'd do for her if I refuse. At least, I hope you would."

"Of course I would! But they're nothing alike!"

"How so?"

"Because you are you," Daphne all-but screeched, a very out of character reaction for her
normally in-control, icy affect, no doubt because she was quite aware they were highly
unlikely to be overheard, "and I know how you are around women!"

Harry closed his eyes for several seconds to try and fight off the urge to shout back. He was,
at least, mostly calm when he looked over at Astoria, who was increasingly red herself, and
asked, "Did I do anything inappropriate when you were sent to Sirius' house?"

"I saw your cock," the girl answered at once, glaring at Daphne, "and saw you shagging the
Succubus, but no. You were a perfect gentleman to me."

Harry wanted to hex the girl for telling her sister the first parts, even while wondering when
that had been, but by the second he had turned back to Daphne herself, "See? I've already told
you this, Daphne: I think Astoria is cute, very pretty, but I'm not trying to put the moves on
her. This isn't some ploy just to get in her knickers. It was your father's idea, not mine. This
letter was literally the first I'd heard of it. So stop thinking I'm the bad guy here. I'm just
trying to help you protect your sister if something happens to your parents."
"I- I don't think you're the bad guy," Daphne forced out through taut lips, her jaw barely
moving, "but you have to admit I have reason for concern when it comes to... well, you and
the people around you. I was there last night, remember?"

Harry nodded, "I do, I remember very well. Did something happen that upset you? Bothered
you?"

"Not as such, no. But that's me, and Tracey. Not Astoria."

"I didn't invite Astoria, as you also recall, then," Harry reminded her.

Before Daphne could offer another retort, Astoria herself gave a hem, hem sound that was,
like Ginny, entirely too much like Dolores Umbridge's hated throat-clearing noise for
comfort. Once the others looked to her, she rather primly reminded them, "I think you're
forgetting the most important thing in all this, both of you. What do I want to do? It's my life
you're talking about. Shouldn't I get a say?"

"You are not of age," Daphne chided, "so no. You should not."

"What the- hey!"

Harry shook his head and held up his hands, "Hold on, hold on. Daphne, she's right. I know
she's not of age, but Astoria really is the one who should have the biggest say in the decision.
It is her life, not ours. Hold on, Daphne, let me finish. Astoria, Daphne is also right, and you
have no actual, legal say in the matter. None of us in the compartment do, at least not right
now. I did some digging over the term, and as none of us are of majority age, we can literally
do nothing about this. Daphne's the oldest by several weeks, so she will have the first chance
to appeal if it comes to a fight between us, but I don't want that to happen. I don't think it
would help anyway, because by the time the Wizengamot got around to deciding anything-"

"It would be the Housing and Relocation office if anything," Daphne interrupted.

"Fine," Harry nodded, acknowledging she was probably right, but keeping it back that he
might have inroads there already in Moira Wallside, the woman he had been in
correspondence with the same day as Cyrus Greengrass, "maybe the decision would be final,
but this was a signed, sealed, magically protected and verified letter. Your father sent it to me
directly, in secret, without telling either of you. I don't want to guess at his motives, but I
have some ideas anyway. He's worried. So I plan to accept, if it becomes necessary. But I'm
open to hearing your thoughts, both of you."

He turned to Astoria first, largely because she was quicker off the mark, "I'm in. There's
nothing else to discuss as far as I'm concerned. You have the power, the wealth, and you're a
decent guy. That's all I can ask for."

Daphne spluttered, "As- Astoria! You aren't marrying him, this isn't some Contract barter!
He'll become your Guardian!"

"So? I'd still benefit, and you wouldn't be shagging him if you didn't know he was a good
person, sis. I don't know why you're so upset about it, I really don't. It sounds like mother and
father put a lot of thought into it, and Harry has, too. I trust them, and I trust him. That's good
enough for me. Besides, Sirius' place is nice. Quaint, almost like the lake cottage."

"I'm sure the house of an escaped not-convict is quite nice," Daphne shot back, "but that has
nothing to do with it! As your Guardian, he would have- would have authority over you! He
could make you do... things! He could put you in a Contract against your wishes!"

"Hey, I wouldn't-" Harry started, but Daphne held up a hand to shush him.

"I'm not saying you would, I'm saying you could," she continued, "Astoria, please, think
about this. Just- just wait to decide, please. That's all I'm asking. Let me talk to Father, get an
idea of why he wants this. Mother, too. And if- if they have a good reason, then I won't
object."

Daphne took a deep, slow, calming breath, then continued, "Because contrary to what you
might think, I don't... hate the idea. I hate the way it was done, and I feel like someone needs
to argue some sense, but there are certainly worse options."

"Alright," Astoria shrugged, "I'll wait, then, but only for two weeks. If you haven't talked to
them before that time, I'll do it myself and make my current intentions known. And I'm
maintaining correspondence with Harry in the meantime. At least, if that's okay with you,
Harry."

"Sure," he agreed, "I don't see why not."

"Then that's settled. Anything else?" Astoria asked. When neither of the older students had
anything to add, she stood up, "Alright, I'm going back to my friends. Have a good summer,
Harry. I might see you soon, but expect my owl either way."

"Alright. Have a good summer yourself, Astoria."

Once she was gone, Harry waited patiently for the trembling, pale witch across from him to
say something. To move, to shout, to throw or cast a spell.

But she did nothing, not for several long minutes as the train started to gather speed. When
had it begun moving? He hadn't even noticed it lurch into motion. After a while, a stray
memory filtered through his over-wrought mind. Something Lilith had mentioned about
Daphne, and how she felt about her sister. The realization of the depth of it would have
floored him if he were standing. As it was, Harry was able to hide the palpable reaction only
because the blonde woman across from him was staring at the floor between them, her hands
slowly wringing each other out.

Once he had a better grasp on how he felt about the realization, Harry asked quietly, "You
really love her, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Daphne whimpered, "more than life itself. She's my sister, Harry. My only
sister."
He nodded. She hadn't said it, but he hadn't expected her to. He was not a person who felt he
understood sibling bonds all that well, but he was no longer limited to just the Dursleys as
examples. He saw how the Weasleys acted together. Colin and Dennis Creevy. Parvati and
Padma. Even Hestia and Flora Carrow. It was those last four that Harry looked to, because he
knew that look, and knew that pain.

It was what he himself had felt as he realized Hermione was falling for Ron.

A familiar sting, one Harry had first learned of as he realized how differently Petunia and
Vernon treated him compared to their son.

Jealousy.

Envy.

Both, perhaps, as similar as they were.

"No, I mean you love her," Harry asked quietly, "like you do Tracey."

"Don't be ridiculous, she's my sister," Daphne snorted, not bothering to look up. But Harry
could see the tips of her ears turn just a little darker red.

"It doesn't stop Ron or Ginny, even if what they have isn't that kind of love. It doesn't stop the
Patils, or I think the Carrows."

"You're an idiot."

"Maybe I am," Harry told the girl, the one he'd lost his virginity to and whose he'd it turn,
"but I know that look, and I'm getting stronger at sensing emotions. I'm not judging you,
Daphne. Anything but! If I had a sister like Astoria, I think I'd fancy her, too."

"I knew it," Daphne whimpered, "I knew you fancied her."

"I don't," he responded softly, "at least, not really. I could. I know I could. But I try to wall off
those emotions, Daphne. I do it for you. I know it would hurt you, if we ever... became
involved. I didn't know why, until now. It isn't that you don't want her to have... intimacy.
What you told me about you wanting her to experience what life had to offer proves that. It's
me. You would rather share Tracey, your actual girlfriend, whom you also love dearly, than
Astoria. Not because you love Tracey less, but you love her a little differently, because she
isn't the sister you've looked out for and cherished for so long. Am I wrong?"

Daphne took several seconds, more than a minute, to reply. When she did, it was silent, just a
simple back-and-forth shake of her head.

"I didn't think so. I won't say anything, not even to Astoria. That's between you and her. I
promise you that. But I also meant it when I promised you I wouldn't involve her in... what I
get up to. She wants to, her peeping on me proves that. I swear I didn't let her look or
encourage it or anything. I might remember noticing the door was open after, but that was
months ago and I'm not sure anymore. But that's it, Daphne, I promise. I'm not trying to steal
her from you. If anything... if anything, I want you to be happy, and if possible, happy with
her. I want her to be happy, too. I'm more than a little fond of her, the brat."

Daphne snorted despite herself, and lifted puffy, red-rimmed eyes that shone with tears, "She
is a brat, isn't she?"

"Sure is. I do like her, though."

"She's alright. I... Thank you."

"For what?" Harry asked.

Daphne looked away a moment, then met his gaze again before she whispered, "For being
yourself. For agreeing to- to protect her, if... if it's needed. For not judging my sick... my
sickness. For everything."

Harry shook his head, a soft grin spreading over his face as he stood to cross the
compartment and sit beside Daphne. He pulled her into a hug, and she didn't protest, "I seem
to be saying something like this a lot, lately, but... I summoned a Succubus. I don't think I've
got any right to judge people for what they want in a romantic life, Daphne. So you fancy
your little sister. If you're both of an age to understand why that might be bad or wrong, or
what consequences could happen, then what's the harm in trying? You can't knock her up,
you know? If- when- you get Runes, that'll be really impossible, and any real danger would
be gone. No disease, after all. That comes with the first set."

"I... I've never told anyone," Daphne whispered into his side, "How did you... know?"

"Lilith mentioned something before, over the summer. Sister complex, I think, or something
like it. I just remembered, and things fell into place, that's all. Nothing super mysterious
about it or anything, but the Empathic powers helped confirm it."

"Cheater," Daphne hiccupped.

"Maybe a little," he admitted, then tightened the hug for a moment before he loosed it up to
look at her again, "I care. I really do. Hell, Daphne... despite myself, I've fallen in love with
you, too. I know you don't love me back, and that's fine. If you want to continue our
arrangement, great. If not, I might recommend a few other blokes who fit the bill. But I'm not
going to hurt you on purpose, I swear. If you... want what I think you want, then you have my
support. Whether that's tacit acknowledgment or explicit encouragement and advice, is up to
you. It's not like I can judge, since I encourage Ron and Ginny, and they would be a far
bigger risk without the Runes."

"I think I love you too," Daphne whispered.

"Oh."

That was all either said for a long time. Slowly, the mood in the compartment began to
change, and Daphne suddenly bolted to sit upright, out of Harry's arms, "You pervert!"
"Guilty as charged, I'm sure," Harry protested, his brow furrowing, "but what did I do this
time?"

"You- you were just thinking about me and Astoria! T- Together!"

Harry couldn't help it, he snorted, "Daphne, I hate to break it to you... that particular ship
sailed five months ago."

He started laughing in earnest as the blonde girl tried to bodily rip the cushions off the seat
across from her and whack Harry over the head with it.
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