Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413323.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M, Multi
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Molly Weasley, Harry
Potter/Hermione Granger, Fleur Delacour/Harry Potter, Gabrielle
Delacour/Harry Potter, Angelina Johnson/Harry Potter
Character: Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Gabrielle Delacour
Additional Tags: Harems, Cuckolding, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Accidental
Voyeurism, Lesbian Sex
Series: Part 1 of Harry Potter, the Master of Death (and a Harem)
Stats: Published: 2015-07-24 Completed: 2015-09-24 Chapters: 12/12
Words: 110073

A Big Happy Weasley Family

by WerewolfWarriro

Summary

The men of the Weasley Family have peculiar desires. And Harry's here to fulfill them.

This work was inspiredWeasley

by family Bull. (Cuckold story)[Het] by DobbyDobs
 Chapter 1

Voyeur

34 years ago

Little Arthur Weasley was only in his second year at Hogwarts. Little Arthur Weasley was not
supposed to be up here on the second floor of his ancient family home. Little Arthur Weasley
knew he was being incredibly naughty by even stepping on this floor at this particular time of the
night – his parents explicitly forbade him from using their floor after curfew. But he couldn’t help
it. The twelve-year-old boy really needed somewhere to pee – and his oldest brother was using the
only bathroom downstairs. In desperation, Arthur – “Artie” to his family – had crawled up
through the trapdoor and had used his parents’ bathroom, which was just outside their bedroom.

And just as he had finished his business and stepped out of the bathroom, he heard his father
moaning. He was slightly concerned. He had never really heard his father moan like that before.
He edged towards his parents’ bedroom, the door towering over him in the dark gloom of the
night. His father moaned again. And the strange thing was, he heard nothing from his mother. He
pushed at the door, and to his immense surprise, it budged. He had expected it to be locked with a
charm, but it was open. He pushed the door ajar ever so slightly so that he could peek in and
reassure himself that his father was not sick – merely having a bad dream… or something.

What he saw would leave an after-image that would haunt him for ages. His father was on top of
his mother, the sheets were off and lying to the side and their bodies were pressed against each
other. His mother’s breasts were squashed against his father’s chest and his father was heaving
and grunting on top of her as she lay there with her legs spread out. Artie was not a naïve boy – he
knew what sex was. He was in his second year – he had heard the older years go on and on about
fondling and kissing and what not. And he knew that he was not supposed to see this… but he
couldn’t help it. He was neither turned on nor repulsed – he was fascinated by not his parents’
bodies, but their expressions.

His father’s face was screwed up in pleasure – he could only glimpse the grey-haired Septimus
Weasley’s side profile, but even from over here outside the dimly lit room, it was sufficiently clear
that his father was delighted by his actions and what he was feeling at that moment. However,
what really perturbed and fascinated him was his mother’s face. She was staring off to the side,
towards the door that Arthur peeked through. She was not staring at him, just off at the wall that
the door belonged to. He could see her face quite clearly from here. She wasn’t delighted – she
was actually bored. She was looking askance at the wall as her husband rutted her from above,
absolutely bored and sleepy. The expression on her face screamed, “Get it over with.”

Artie promptly withdrew his head, closed the door softly and descended down the trapdoor. He
curled back into his blankets and fell asleep. He imagined the incident would fade into the back of
his mind soon enough.

It did not. He would always remember the indulgent face his mother made when she engaged his
father during their nightly romps in bed.

***
Present Day

“Y’know, Arthur,” Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic remarked, “You are a very, very
lucky wizard.”

Arthur looked askance at Kingsley and smiled. The Minister was obviously referring to his wife,
who had just left his shared office with the Minister after leaving them both with her famous
home-cooked meals.

“Enjoy her food, do you?” Arthur asked jovially.

Kingsley laughed. “You know it,” he said, and hastily added, “Not that Molly hasn’t got any other
endearing qualities, of course.”

“Of course,” Arthur said, with a small nod. He knew what Kingsley was getting at – his wife was
bossy, and he knew it too. The war had devastated their family, especially with the loss of Fred,
and Bill’s condition, but the Weasleys were nothing if not adaptable. And they were soon back to
a normal routine. Bill was back on track working for Gringotts and going on assignments that
would no doubt make both Molly and his own wife nervous. Charlie was back to taming dragons
and was a constant target of Molly’s frequent admonishments – “find a girl and settle down” being
the most frequent of them. Percy was a very high-ranking member of the Department of
Experimental Spell Damage, and he knew Percy would soon be promoted to a more influential
department within the Ministry. Percy was about to be married to a very delightful girl – Audrey –
a very tall, blonde girl that modeled for Gladrags. George was doing well and was dating a former
teammate on the Quidditch team from back when he was at Hogwarts. Weasley’s Wizarding
Wheezes were back with a bang; however, Arthur could never tell if George would ever get over
his twin’s death.Ron would back in school for his final year as Head Boy (he was so proud when
Minerva informed him about it) and was dating the delightful and intelligent Hermione Granger,
the Head Girl. His youngest was also attending Hogwarts as part of her final year, and was soon
on track (according to Molly’s words, at least), to be Mrs Potter, wife to the Slayer of Voldemort
himself. Unfortunately, Hogwarts was closed for the year and his two youngest - and Harry - were
staying at the Burrow. Which made Molly very happy because the house was so bustling.

Arthur did not know how he felt about his youngest and only daughter though. Oh, he knew
Harry was possibly the best son-in-law his family could have, but whenever he was around the
boy, he felt this undercurrent of power that he had only felt around Albus Dumbledore himself.
The boy was capable of great things – and he knew that powerful men changed once they gained
power. Yet, if anyone could resist the allure of power, it would be Harry. And either way, it was
not like his little girl was aboutto declare an engagement anytime soon (or so he hoped – he didn’t
think any of them were ready for that); they were still at school, and as such, had plenty of time.

And Molly herself, despite her bossy nature, was still getting back to her old self, and much to his
delight (and possibly that of his co-workers), to her old shape. She had always been a gorgeous
woman – a trait his little daughter had inherited. Molly Weasley wasn’t exactly a witch that would
be on a Gladrags poster, like her daughter-in-law, Audrey – however, she was the sort of witch
who would appear on a Playwizard magazine. Massive E-cup breasts that stood firm and proud to
this day, a massive ass that it was a delight to worship and a very pleasant face. To him, she was
all woman.

Arthur looked around guiltily – he was supposed to be working, not daydreaming about his wife.
However, he could not help but feel his wife was like fine wine – she had only become more
alluring with age. He would be lying if he said their marriage had not had its ups and downs.

Most of those ups and downs, though, had been due to his extremely niche fetish, at least in the
Wizarding World.
Arthur was a very submissive man in bed. He had a small penis, and had been very insecure about
it when he and Molly had first done the deed. In all of their encounters since marriage, he had
never managed to build up a resistance to her. She was so sexy with those massive breasts and that
supple ass that he had never quite managed to hold off for long when he was inside her. And the
best parts had been when she used to tease him about the size of his pecker while having sex. It
turned him on and he finished faster when she humiliated and belittled him and bossed him
around.

Then, ten years into marriage and four children later, Arthur started noticing his wife make that
face when she had sex with him – that blank, smiling, indulgent face that just wanted him to get it
over with so that she could go back to doing whatever it is she wanted to do. And that was when
Arthur was beset by a very specific fetish. He wanted to see his wife sated in bed. Even in the
Wizarding World though, there weren’t really any potions that enhanced penis sizes or sexual
performance – or maybe there were; however, no self-respecting Potions Master would ever go
about declaring he had such wares for sale. Sex was not exactly taboo in this world, but the
Wizarding World was a lot more conservative when it came to such uncouth discussions.

Arthur had tried wearing a strap-on, but it never really felt… real. He wanted to see his wife
satisfied and the thought of another man rutting into her as her face screwed up in pleasure set his
loins on fire and his imagination ran wild. Eventually, he had broached the topic with Molly, who
promptly proceeded to sock him in the face for suggesting something so audacious. He had
continued to bring it up throughout the next few months before Ron was born and eventually,
Molly relented. They had drunk Polyjuice Potion, disguised themselves in the form of random
muggles and entered a seedy pub in Knockturn Alley as a very kinky couple. They had solicited a
male patron to do the wife for a few Sickles.

And Arthur had never been more turned on in his life than when he saw a stranger take his wife,
even in another form. He had made love to himself furiously as the man slammed his hips into his
wife’s fleshy ass and had come twice from the experience. And then the man said something
derogatory about both Molly and him and Molly had proceeded to hex the living daylights out of
the poor stranger. Eventually, they had to end up obliviating the man. Molly had cursed up a storm
afterward and did not speak to Arthur for a week after the incident. Eventually, Ron was born and
Ginny was on her way – Arthur and Molly were back to their bland vanilla sex life.

They had broached the topic again, after Ginny went to Hogwarts and Molly had nothing to do
athome. And they had taken Polyjuice again, but Molly lost her will just as they were about to
make their way to Knockturn Alley. After that, incidents had spiraled out of their control and they
had been busy with the war. There was no time to indulge in distractions.

Now, however, the war was over, and Arthur was beginning to feel the same urges again,
especially when his co-workers watched his wife sashay out of the Minister’s office after feeding
him lunch, all of their eyes (at least in his head) tracking her fine ass as it swayed hypnotically out
of the room.

Arthur imagined them taking her holes, one after the other, as she screamed and moaned and
gasped in pleasure that he would never be able to give her. But Arthur did not know if they were
yet ready to have another go at the whole thing.

***

Six Hours Later

Arthur was now walking blearily back towards his bedroom. He had tried to initiate sex with
Molly, but could not seem to get it up. She offered to help him, but he desisted, feeling peckish,
and slightly perturbed at these recurring thoughts of indulging his old desires. So he thought he
would distract himself with a nice midnight snack.

It was the beginning of the Christmas Holidays. He supposed the holidays didn't really matter for
his youngest kids though, with Hogwarts being closed for a year to rebuild - Ron was at home,
although, his youngest son did seem a bit depressed at the fact that Hermione Granger had gone to
see her parents in Australia and was taking so long to come back. He had never really broached
the subject with Hermione, or Ron, himself, but for some reason, her parents’ movement to
Australia (or was it New Zealand?) seemed to be a sore spot for the pleasant girl. His favorite
daughter (“Of course I’m your favorite daughter - I’m your only daughter, Daddy!” Ginny would
say, when he said so to her) was chirpy though, especially, he suspected, because her relationship
with Harry Potter was thriving, what with Harry staying at the Burrow as well. Bill, Charlie,
Percy and George - who lived separately, of course - promised to attend the Christmas feast along
with their significant others (except Charlie, who did say that he would bring a dragon along –
Arthur hoped he was joking) on Christmas day, and that made Arthur very happy.

He feasted upon leftovers from a dinner Molly and Harry (surprisingly, the boy had a certain
knack for cooking that eluded him – he felt happy for his little girl though – and often helped
Molly when it came to cooking dishes; the more exotic the dishes, the merrier Harry seemed to be)
had whipped up. And now, sated, he headed towards the Master Bedroom on the fourth floor of
the newly
refurbished Burrow.

And just as he was about to go up the staircase that would take him to the second floor, still two
floors away from his destination, he heard a very familiar sound. It was very, very soft though,
and he would never have recognized it if it had not been so quiet.

It was a moan. Only, it was female. And it seemed to be coming from under a failing silencing
charm. He also noticed that the origin of the sound was Ginny’s bedroom - only, it sounded
exactly like Molly’s voice when she felt extremely happy. Arthur edged towards the bedroom
door, which towered over him in the gloomy corridor.

Déjà vu.

He felt a sense of inevitability as he slowly pushed at the door. It did not budge. He pulled out his
wand and cast a silent Alohomora upon the door. The door moved and a beam of light splashed
through the hairline crack made by the open door. The room was obviously brightly lit from the
inside.

He pushed the door ever so slightly, quickly disillusioned himself with his wand, and then peeked.
And his jaw dropped.

His daughter was spread-eagled and facing the door, held aloft in midair, her thighs extended to
either side in a straight line. Her perky breasts sported nipples that were rock-hard and her face
was radiating bliss. Her eyes were glazed and staring up into space; and a stream of drool was
running down from her open mouth. She was screaming, but all he heard was a soft high-pitched
muffled
sound from under the defunct Silencing Charm.

Her gaping vagina was squirting almost continuously, jets of transparent fluid ejected forcibly
almost three feet into the air before they landed on the floor, and there was a steadily growing
puddle of juices underneath her. Her back was arched and she was jerking spasmodically under
the grip of a pleasure he had never seen on a woman’s face before.
And spearing into her dribbling twat was the largest penis Arthur had ever seen in his life, massive
and veiny and ramrod straight with massive, cum-filled balls swinging back and forth right
beneath it. His daughter was being held aloft by strong muscular hands that were connected to
broad shoulders, which towered intimidatingly over his daughter. And all of these parts belonged
to a very handsome man with prominent green eyes framed by messy black hair.

His daughter was being pounded mercilessly by Harry Potter himself. And she was loving every
second of it.

And Arthur would never forget the look on Harry’s face. The boy… no, the man… seemed
perfectly at ease. His mouth was spread in a faint smile, almost like he owned her, and loved
dominating women and bending them to his will.

Arthur Weasley had a very hot wife. Arthur Weasley knew he was not supposed to be here.
Arthur Weasley knew he should turn away right now, close the door and snuggle back into bed
with his loving wife. But he was fascinated.

And then, it clicked – he needed to speak to his wife very soon. He had found the right candidate
to add to their bed and finally sate his peculiar fetish.
 Spectator

10 years ago

Little Ginny and Little Ronnie (though Ronnie hated that particular nickname) were at Auntie
Muriel’s house and they were sick of the smell of old lady that seemed to waft through the area.
Granted, Great-Aunt Muriel always told great stories and made lovely fudge brownies, but it was
the smell that always got to them.

Luckily, Great Aunt Muriel had stopped the children from ceaselessly complaining to her by
telling them a very old story. The Legend of the Curse of Stagg.

At first, Little Ginny was sorely disappointed that it wasn’t a story about Harry Potter, but then she
remembered that Auntie Muriel never told her stories about the Boy-Who-Lived. Auntie Muriel
always narrated stories about stuff that had happened to their family – and while some of that stuff
was always gossipy and meandering, this particular story was riveting. And it wasn’t a story their
Auntie had told them before.

“Long, long ago, before Merlin, before the Three Brothers,” said Great Aunt Muriel in her sharp
voice, which retained its firmness despite her age, “There lived a powerful king called Artorigus.
He was a great warlock – a chieftain of his Druid tribe that ruled over a brief stretch of land
somewhere in Northern Ireland. He was also a man of many vices – his vices were harmless, but
they were powerful. He loved his gold and he loved his women. Or perhaps he loved all women –
for it did not matter to him if the woman was rich or poor, big or small, of noble birth or of mud.
He loved them all. He seduced and courted them all. And not many men could compete with the
king, so Artorigus soon built himself a harem of beauties that served him and only him.

“But one day, a pallor of doom settled over the kingdom as it was attacked from the sea by
hundreds of brigands under the leadership of a Family that went by the name of Stagg. Three they
were - a man, his wife and his daughter. And they soon conquered entire swathes of land that lay
under the stewardship of Artorigus. They slaughtered dozens and lay waste to the lands they
conquered – their intent was not to rule, but simply to loot and pillage.

“Artorigus the King eventually confronted the Staggs with his mighty army and they clashed atop
a small hillock. The battle was long, and it was bloody – the brigands fought like beasts
unchained, teeth bared and with fearsome magicks, while the King’s Army fought as one,
disciplined and intelligent with steel and spellfire. Eventually, the brigands were massacred and
the Staggs captured.

“Artorigus was furious. He ordered the beheading of the Patriarch of the Stagg Family, but his
wife and daughter pleaded for clemency. You see, the Patriarch had a beautiful wife, with long,
red hair and a graceful manner and a very pretty daughter, as fiercely loyal as she was beautiful.
Artorigus – a connoisseur of beauty – was swayed by their allure and granted them this wish.
However, Artorigus imposed a condition upon the two; he would only spare the man if the wife
and daughter were willing to join his harem and swore upon their magicks to never see their
husband and father again.

“The wife and daughter wept, and they pleaded, but Artorigus stood firm. Eventually, rather than
succumb to despair and doom the man they each loved in their own way, they agreed to his
covenants and swore their terrible oaths. The Stagg Patriarch was set free, but at the sight of his
wife and daughter kneeling before Artorigus in supplication, the Patriarch felt such great sorrow
that he could not bring himself to rejoice at all. He could not let them go, and they could never see
him again, so rather than be parted from them, he built himself a great pyre and burned himself
alive, hoping to be with them forever after death.

“But before he ascended the pyre and immolated himself, Stagg turned to Artorigus and cursed,
‘Thricefold shall your line pay for my defeat – one, the gold that you so love shall soon run out.
Two, your line shall dwindle and sully itself with the blood of the muggles. And three, your line
shall suffer the same fate that mine did - the men of your line shall beg for their wives to be taken
by a man of my line. This curse I lay upon thee, Artorigus!’

“And there was much thunder and lightning as Stagg burst into flame. Artorigus, worried by the
Curse of Stagg, called upon his Council and they performed several charms to delay the onset of
the curse. And they were largely successful, for Artorigus’ line flourished and grew well past the
Age of the Founders.

“In the end, Artorigus died a happy man, surrounded by loving wives and children. His line, of
course, is our own - the Weasleys - and they were rich and prosperous for a long time.

“As for poor Stagg, his wife gave birth to a son soon after her betrothal to Artorigus – it was
rumoured that the son was a child of Stagg, conceived before his wife had sworn fealty to her new
King and Husband. Artorigus raised the child as his own, but the child was restless, and soon set
sail for England, hoping to rid his name of the stench of Stagg’s legacy and the loathsome rumours
that plagued him.

“And that child, Little Weasleys, was the first of the Peverells – the great line that gave rise to the
founders themselves. But the Legend of the Curse of Stagg endures – it is rumoured that soon, the
protective charms of Artorigus shall grow weak, and the curse shall come to pass; it waits in the
shadows for its chance to infect the line.”

Little Ginny shuddered. “Auntie,” she said, “Does that mean… does that mean our family is
cursed?”

Great Aunt Muriel smiled benignly at her. “Perhaps,” he Aunt said with an evil grin, “But your
family isn’t exactly rich now, is it, child? Nor is our blood pure – not that it matters. Two of its
conditions certainly seem to have come true, haven’t they? Curses work in subtle ways, after all.”

***

Molly Weasley sighed as her daughter gaped at her.

“You want… what?” Ginny asked, staring at her mother in astonishment.

Oh, the things I do for love, Molly thought tiredly. Truth be told, she did know that her sex life did
need a bit of spicing up, but she never really thought Arthur would be into this sort of thing – it
seemed inexplicable, to her at least, and she could never imagine getting aroused by watching her
beloved husband do that with someone else.

But she had tried once before, for him, and she still remembered how fascinated he looked during
that particular encounter in Knockturn Alley – though she received absolutely no pleasure from
that pathetic incident. She had resisted his demands afterwards, but lately, he was so persistent that
she had eventually succumbed and even begun to like the idea. Not that she would ever admit that
to Arthur – although, for all she knew, Arthur would be turned on by even that notion.

“Ginny,” Molly said gently, “You know about your father… and I.”

Ginny nodded. Unfortunately for Molly and Arthur, their eldest son had seen them sneak out of
the Burrow on that night under the influence of Polyjuice and after overhearing a few
conversations between the couple, had quickly deduced the peculiar fetish his father had. Of
course, Molly hadn’t known about it until Bill and Charlie finally confronted them about it.

It had been a long and painful conversation, but eventually, their sons had shrugged and accepted
the idea. By now, all of their children knew about their parents’ experimentation and grudgingly
accepted it.

Molly knew, though, that grudging acceptance was not the same as whole-hearted approval. She
continued, “And you’ve also always worried about… your problem with… Harry. The one we
talked about last month.”

Ginny blushed furiously and said, “I…”

Molly interrupted, “And you did once tell me about how you wanted to expand the circle…”

Ginny countered hotly, “YES! But not this! Mom, that was a joke. I was joking! I didn’t really
mean… how could you even think I could mean that?”

“Oh you might not have meant it – at least, not with your whole heart,” Molly said wisely, “But at
least a part of you was willing to consider the idea.”

That gave Ginny a bit of pause.

Molly sighed. It would have been so much easier if Ginny had laughed in her face and then flat
out refused. Molly would then have shrugged and told Arthur to forget about the idea altogether.
But Ginny had hesitated – Molly did not quite know if her daughter truly did not mind the idea of
occasionally loaning out her boyfriend, or if it was love for her mother that stopped her from
refusing the offer outright.

But Arthur had been so persistent about it – and when Molly really thought about it, and if she
was honest about it, she would rather it be a man they all knew and loved and trusted that she took
into bed than a complete stranger. So now, it was up to Molly to persuade what little part of her
daughter was sympathetic to the cause to embrace the idea that her boyfriend could sleep with her
mother, and that it was not the end of the world if he did.

This is ridiculous, Molly thought to herself.

***

“You want me to do… what?” Harry asked, gaping at his girlfriend.

Oh the things I do for love, Ginny thought tiredly. And truth be told, she was surprised at the fact
that she had eventually been persuaded to ask her boyfriend about her mother’s request. She knew
she should have been opposed to the idea, but she felt as if she was propelled by emotions and
forces that she herself could not fathom – whispered words floating upon an ancient wind that
blew from distant shores long lost to time.

Dim words that whispered stories of a curse and a story about a burning man, but the words
themselves were long lost to the haze of childhood memory.

“Look, Ginny,” Harry said, “No. And I mean it. No.”

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but Harry shushed her and continued, “Look, the
Dursleys weren’t really great guardians – you know that – but they did manage to drill one
particular lesson over and over into my head. Do unto others as you would have them do unto
you.”
“What does that have to do with anything I just said?” Ginny asked, puzzled.

“It means that if I starting sleeping around, that means you can claim what I did as grounds for
sleeping around too… and… I don’t think I would be able to stomach that. In fact, I’d hate that.
I’m not that open-minded – or selfish… or whatever. Relationships should be symmetrical – they
shouldn’t be skewed towards one partner,” Harry said.

“Our relationship isn’t skewed?” Ginny countered, “You do know you are an immensely
powerful wizard, don’t you? You do know you’re famous, don’t you? You do know you have an
abnormally large sexual appetite, don’t you?”

“Ginny…” Harry began, but Ginny cut him off.

“Look, Harry,” Ginny said, “I’m not too proud to say that I cannot keep up with you. I just…
can’t. Harry, you’ve changed, and you know it! I can never keep up with you in bed, and we both
lost our virginity to each other! And then I saw the Chang bitch make cow-eyes at you at every
social function we’ve been to and now I’m scared that you will cheat on me because I can’t keep
up when we all go back next year to school…”

Ginny was rambling and she knew it, which is why she was glad when Harry cut her off.
“Dammit, Ginny,” Harry said, “This isn’t just about sex! I don’t care! I’m not that shallow!”

Ginny crossed her arms at him. “Exactly!” she said, “This isn’t! You’re just having sex with my
mom. It’s a way to control your appetite without being tempted by the side menu.”

Harry didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry at that last analogy.

Ginny sighed. This was going to be a long conversation.

***

2 days later

Ron and Ginny had retired to their respective rooms after dinner that night. Harry told Ron that he
wasn’t really sleepy and would be up as soon as he finished sorting through the internship offers
he had received after the Battle of Hogwarts. Ron reminded him that they would only be in school
next year and this was supposed to be a break year – a year of rest after a brutal battle. Harry had
nodded and had bid Ron good night.

Only, he was not looking at the newly arrived internship offers from Gringotts and Wimbourne.
He was standing in the Master bedroom on the fourth floor, which had been completely sealed by
silencing charms and repelling wards. Arthur Weasley sat on a cushioned chair directly facing the
bed, and a distractingly gorgeous Molly Weasley was on the bed, in a robe that gave Harry a
glimpse of her tantalizing curves.

Harry had always noticed it before, but had never truly reflected upon it - Molly Weasley was a
very gorgeous woman. Contrary to popular speculation, she had never really been a maternal
substitute to him; she had always been Ron’s mother – an entity that was more “friend” than
“family.” She had rich auburn hair that fell around her face in waves and what he thought was a
strikingly beautiful face. A thin nose positioned perfectly between wide, affectionate brown eyes
(Ginny’s eyes, Harry thought), and that sat above a pair of luscious, kissable lips. A slender neck
that gave way to a surprisingly voluptuous body that never really ended. A massive pair of breasts
stood proud upon above a very curvy stomach that arched to meet a massive, wide arse that he
could imagine working over for ages.

He had noticed all of that, but she had always been the forbidden fruit one simply does not take a
bite out of. And yet, here he was.

This was utterly ridiculous. And he was unbuttoning his own shirt.

***

Arthur Weasley gulped as the Savior of the Wizarding World took off his shirt and cast it aside.
He glanced at his wife, who was also staring at Harry, but her face gave nothing away. He looked
back at the young man in his bedroom and had to admit that Harry had a body that women would
simply swoon over. A sculpted torso, with a muscled chest that gave way to powerful biceps and
massive forearms. He had always thought of Harry as someone who would develop a wiry build
as he grew up, but he had obviously thought wrong. Harry had put on mass – Arthur was almost
tempted to ask how. Harry definitely had not looked like this the last time Arthur had seen him,
but perhaps there was some unknown way to belt up mass over a period of five months? He did
know Harry had been apparating to the middle of London every day since the Battle at Hogwarts
to “work out” – but surely, this was an extraordinary transformation.

Or perhaps this had been Harry’s natural constitution all along and it was only the malnourishment
and ill treatment at the Dursleys that held the boy back. Either way, the boy was a man now.

“Okay,” Harry said suddenly, gazing upon Molly’s form on the bed, his eyes obviously focused
on her deep, seemingly never-ending cleavage than her eyes, “If we’re doing this, you should
know something.”

And then he turned his eyes to Arthur. “Lately,” Harry continued, “I’ve been doing a lot of…
uh… stuff… like this…”

“Harry,” Molly said gently, “We know about you and Ginny. And it’s okay, as long as you kids
are being safe. Potions and spells.”

Harry nodded tightly. “That’s not the point I was trying to make,” Harry said, “What I’m trying to
say is that… lately, while having sex, I’ve been a bit… feral. In the sense that, I lose control. Like,
a lot. So once I get started, it might be a bit difficult to get me to… uh… stop.”

Arthur nodded. “And that’s exactly why you’re here,” Arthur said tentatively.

Harry held his gaze for a while, as if searching for something, then nodded back.

Then, much to Arthur’s surprise, something seemed to click and the temperature of the room
seemed to rise. Harry’s eyes seemed to change – where they were ice cold before, they were
blazing green now and seemed to light up with a fire that could not be quenched. Arthur gulped,
and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that his wife did so as well.

“Well, then,” Harry said, his voice husky and rough, “Molly… darling, get up!”

With a start, Molly got up. Arthur gaped – his bossy wife, who never really listened to him and
ordered him around in bed, had just agreed to Harry’s order without a pause. Arthur dimly
recognized that he was getting turned on.

A blanket of pure magic seemed to settle down on the room – crackling and spitting – as Harry
covered the distance between him and Molly in two quick strides. Before Arthur could even blink,
Harry was upon his wife, kissing her quite loudly. With a loud smooch, their mouths met and
Harry seemed to be practically dominating the shorter buxom woman now.

Their mouths were wide open and Harry’s fat tongue seemed to have burrowed deep into Molly’s
mouth, intertwining with her tongue occasionally and teasing the sides of her mouth. Molly
moaned. Arthur couldn’t resist any more – he quickly stood up, removed his pants and flung them
aside. His three-and-a-half inch pecker was rock hard. And they had barely even gotten to the
starter menu, let alone the main course.

***

Harry withdrew, leaving Molly gasping for air with a wild look on her face. “Enough,” he said,
“Remove your robe.”

Hesitantly, Molly untied the sash that held her robe in place and shrugged the cloth off her
shoulders. Harry’s eyes rove up and down her curvaceous body, from the titanic swell of her
heaving breasts to her panty-clad crotch, down to her very toes. Despite the warmth in the room,
Molly shivered in delight – Harry’s gaze seemed to hold a power of its own.

For the first time since they had started, Molly understood what her daughter had meant by
“intimidating when we were together.” Harry was indeed very, very intimidating. And for the life
of her, Molly did not know why that turned her on so much.

“Turn around,” he said harshly. Molly complied and her ass jiggled delightedly as she rotated on
the spot. All of a sudden, Harry was on his knees with one hand hugging her legs and the other on
her lower back. He exerted a firm pressure on her back, bending her upper body at a slight angle
as he shoved his face right in her panty-covered asscrack.

Molly gasped in shock as Harry seemed to inhale her wide ass. Then he took both hands off and
slid her panties down on the floor to reveal her naked backside in all its glory. Molly tentatively
stepped out of her panties and Harry threw them off to the side. He took a moment to admire the
massive, pale, moon shaped cheeks that lay sprawled in his field of vision, then dove right back in.
This time, he burrowed his nose deep in the valley of her soft, plump arse and shook his face from
side to side. Her cheeks jiggled like jello and slapped against his face on either side. She gasped
and then blushed, embarrassed, and yet turned on, at how Harry seemed to be playing with her.
She put a hand on the bed for support as he exerted even more pressure on her back, forcing her to
bend at an even steeper angle. Arthur was sitting directly perpendicular to them and was watching
the show with an open mouth, his erection very visible.

Molly gasped as she felt Harry lick all over her ass cheeks, one after the other, lavishing attention
upon each plump portion with his tongue. She squealed as he lightly bit down on her left
asscheek.

Harry stood up and turned Molly around. She was startled at the sheer size difference between
them. Which was not to say that Harry towered over her, but he was so broad now that he looked
positively, bestially large. He was at least a head taller than her, but his muscular shoulders seemed
to extend well beyond either of her shoulders. He looked like he could crush her skull to death
with his palms alone. That sent a thrill of fear and strangely, pleasure, up her spine, though she did
not know why.

“Kneel,” Harry commanded, and Molly complied. She unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down.
He obligingly stepped over them and kicked them aside. His boxers were the only thing that
separated her from his… thing now. Arthur Weasley took a deep breath. Here it comes, he
thought, and reached a hand out towards his own prick, that was just begging to be touched.

Molly shrieked softly as Harry’s boxers tented up. It was massive. It was a wonder the boxers
didn’t just tear apart due to the sheer size of the organ on display. Molly made as if to pull his
boxers down, but Harry stopped her with a word.

He grabbed her head with both hands, burying his fingers in her rich, auburn mane and nuzzled
her under his humongous tent. Her face was buried in his crotch now. He laughed. And Molly
couldn’t help herself – the scent was amazing. Men aren’t supposed to smell this good, she
thought, especially not down here.

She rubbed her face all around the inside of his thighs, his massive erection on top of her head
messing up her hair. She moaned and groaned under the sheer weight of the thing on her head,
and nuzzled right into massive orbs that she knew were his testicles.

Arthur rubbed himself furiously at the sight of his wife buried in another man’s crotch – it was
incredibly erotic seeing his wife moaning like such a whore, her massive tits hanging off her
leaning frame as her face disappeared right between Harry’s powerful thighs, inhaling the scent of
his crotch.

Harry then grabbed her hair and yanked her back. His erection slid off the top of her head and
popped in front of her again. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed in bliss. She hooked her hands
under Harry’s boxers, in through the legs of his boxer shorts and encircled his shaft. Her hands, of
course, couldn’t completely encircle his massive rod and both of her hands together only seemed
to cover half the length of the whole thing.

“My goodness,” Molly said in a shrill voice, “I’ll need a friend to cover the rest of this!”

Harry laughed. Arthur was now slumped down on the chair, rubbing pathetically at his own shaft
with two fingers and a thumb. It was incredible – his wife was actually jacking Harry off with
both her hands, yet the truly erotic part was the fact that he couldn’t see it. Her hands were
completely covered by the boxers Harry wore. All her could see was the tent jerking back and
forth as Molly hands presumably whipped around Harry’s massive cock.

“Enough teasing,” Harry said, and Molly bit her lips. She needed to see this – she was in a haze.
She had noticed her husband jerking himself off furiously to the side and that spurred her own lust
into a greater frenzy. She yanked Harry’s boxers down and then shrieked as his enormous shaft
popped up.

“Almost took my eye off!” she squealed, and then giggled. Harry laughed as well. “Well?” he
asked, “What are we waiting for?”

Staring straight into Harry’s eyes, Molly opened her mouth as wide as she could and plunged
down upon his shaft, nearly impaling herself upon it. She held onto the base with both hands – his
cock was so humongous that even with two hands and a mouth, she still could not cover it.

Harry himself felt as if he had ascended to the seventh circle of heaven. Ginny’s totally hot mom
was jerking him off while simultaneously trying to deep throat him. Her enormous breasts
smashed into his thighs as she jerked forward, trying to stuff his penis into her throat, her tongue
lashing it mercilessly. And best of all, she was screaming as she was doing it, almost like she was
yelling out a war-cry as he tackled his… tackle. Harry sniggered at the pun he had just made up in
his own head, then moaned as he felt Molly’s hot, wet mouth coil around him. Her cheeks were
drawn in as she sucked hard at his cock.

He yanked her right off and she gasped for breath, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to his
cockhead. Then he plunged her right back in with a loud pop. She screamed again, her vibrating
throat palpitating his cock as he plunged into her hot, wet mouth all over again.

“Your husband loves it, Molly!” Harry moaned, “He loves watching you take that down your
throat!”

“Yes,” Arthur gasped, as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on Harry’s massive cock tearing
open his wife’s mouth. Suddenly, Harry twisted Molly’s head until her glazed eyes were staring
right in Arthur’s direction. Her right cheek bulged as Harry’s massive head jammed up against it.
Harry withdrew ever so slightly and then pushed again, contracting and expanding her right cheek
with the force of his short jabs.

Then after several quick, brutal jabs, he let go. Molly turned around and started bobbing up and
down his cock – she was barely taking a quarter of his entire penis, but Harry had to admire the
effort. His head seemed to bump against the back of her mouth at each downstroke and the tip
nearly left her head at each upstroke. Her tongue continually lapped away at all the flesh that it
could reach, occasionally teasing around the eye of his penis. Harry loved it when Molly did that.

Then, he placed his hands upon Molly’s shoulders, stopping her motions, and walked forwards,
pushing her down. Molly gasped and choked around his cock, but he did not relent. Eventually
her head was between his things and his cock buried deep into her mouth with his balls on her
chin. He pivoted swiftly on the spot. With his cockhead still inside her hot mouth, he rotated so
that she was now leaning back with her breasts proudly pointing at the ceiling. Now, her head was
right underneath him, only upside down. He chin faced away from him and her forehead was right
between his thighs, staring up at his muscular backside. His massive balls settled around her nose.
Molly would have fallen backwards, if Harry wasn’t holding onto her face with his strong hands.

Harry loved this feeling. His cock was pointing straight down into Molly’s mouth and his hanging
balls were hovering mere millimeters above her nose. Then, he bent his knees and plunged down.
Molly gagged as his cock went straight into her throat and his head burst through the back of her
mouth. She screamed and his balls slammed into her nose, burying her thin nose right into the
valley between his massive testes.

“No, Molly,” Harry said harshly, “You’re not in control any more.”

And Molly knew it. She was nearly falling backwards and his massive testicles were blocking off
her nasal passage. His cock was bulging into her throat and she had never felt more turned on. She
had lost control and it was amazing. She was spitting and choking and practically painting his
cock with her saliva.

Harry rose up on his toes until only his head was left in her mouth, before plunging right back
down again, smashing her face with his heavy balls once more. And repeated the motion until he
built up an amazing rhythm, slapping his balls down her face each time he went down and
shoving his cock further and further up her mouth.

“You little harlot!” Arthur gasped, his knees wide apart as he jacked off furiously, “Take that
cock, you whore!”

And Molly was screaming and gagging and taking it all in like a champ. She slobbered all over
the cock that was claiming her mouth as property and rubbing her nose against his balls each time
they deigned to smack themselves down on her. And then, Harry drew off. Molly was about to
fall backward, but Harry seized her shoulders roughly and pulled her up to her feet.

Then, with a mighty shove, she was thrown upon the bed. Molly’s knees felt slightly numb after
leaning on the floor for so long. But even without touching it, she knew her pussy was dripping
wet. She had never been more turned on in her life.

Harry then knelt right in front of the bed (right in front of Molly’s husband too) and buried his face
right back into Molly’s ass, like he had found a home there. He licked and massaged around
Molly’s thighs with his tongue and hands respectively for several minutes until Molly groaned and
tried to force her dripping twat onto Harry’s mouth, but he was having none of it. He was still
teasing and laying languid licks around it instead of on it. The brat, Molly thought.
And then, all of a sudden, he was back. He burrowed his nose into her rosebud and Molly gasped
as his mouth finally met her pussy with an open-mouthed kiss. He slurped noisily at it and she
moaned loudly. And then she felt his mouth withdraw with a slurp and something hard plunged
into her.

“You like my fingers in your twat?” Harry taunted, “Merlin, Molly, you’re flowing like a bloody
waterfall!”

Harry turned his head sideways and addressed Arthur, who was jerking himself off furiously on
the chair behind him. “She always get this wet, Arthur?” he asked.

“No!” Arthur gasped. The sight of Harry making Molly moan with his tongue and hands was so
amazing – he had never managed anything like it before. Amidst his lust filled haze, Arthur had to
wonder if there was something deeply wrong with him for being like this. Then he shrugged it off
and answered, “Not for me.”

“Huh,” Harry said, and shrugged. He did not want to go there. And he plunged right back in.
With his fingers still inside, he rolled up his tongue, pushed it right in, lapping inside her pussy as
Molly slammed her fist on the bed in pleasure. Then he grinned inwards – he had discovered a
new trick over the past few months.

He breathed inwards, focused his sense – his magic, as it were – on his tongue, and then breathed
out, letting the magic flow through it. While Molly wouldn’t really feel the magic itself, the
discharge of magic through his tongue had a certain side effect that Ginny certainly appreciated
when he went down on the redhead. His tongue vibrated. And with great frequency.

Molly screamed so loud Harry felt like his entire head was reverberating with the sound. Man, he
thought, this woman sure has a healthy set of lungs on her. And then came the fountain. Harry
almost laughed at how much the mother resembled the daughter. Tremendous spurts shot straight
out her twat in arcs that spanned several feet. It was like a series of low-pressure jets ejecting
straight out of her pussy, one of which landed right near Arthur’s legs, and he was sitting five feet
away, at the very least. Exactly like her little daughter, Harry thought smugly.

Arthur was so surprised he stopped rubbing for the first time since he’d started. He had never seen
Molly do that – if he wasn’t intimidated by Harry before, he definitely was now. He still didn’t
regret this decision, but he was highly surprised at this amazing sight.

Molly slumped on the bed, her body shivering with the force of the after-shocks that accompanied
her amazing orgasm. She could barely make a sound – her throat was raw from screaming and she
was literally panting into the bed now. Her limbs felt loose and she couldn’t seem to move. Her
amazing ass was perched high in the air, her quivering cunt open wide for all to see.

Suddenly, Harry slapped her ass with both hands and lifted it into the air with a strong grip. Her
torso still lay on the bed as he dragged her across the bed until she was lying lengthwise across it.
He pushed and she crawled across the bed with what strength she had left. She felt Harry get on
the bed behind her. He waddled on his own knees towards her.

She was now on her knees, her body slumped forward with her enormous breasts squashed on the
bed. Her husband was off to the side, and had resumed jacking off, at a more gentle pace as he
waited to see what Harry was about to do next. He gasped as Harry got onto the bed, enormous
cock swaying imperiously, behind his wife.

Harry lifted his cock up and waddled up to Molly until his balls slapped against her ass, now
littered with her own pussy juices that had sprayed all over the place. He then let go of his cock so
that it lay right on top of her ass.
Arthur gazed in shock, rubbing a bit more rapidly now as he saw how gigantic Harry really was –
it was a monster. It was bigger than Molly’s ass was, with its head on her lower back. It was, or at
least appeared to be, thicker than his forearm. There was no way that would even fit inside her!

Harry drew back and bit till his balls were no longer touching Molly’s quivering pussy and
slammed straight back in again. His balls made a loud slapping sound against Molly’s cunt as his
cock humped against her ass crack. He was virtually dry humping her now, with his cock nestling
in and out of her magnificent ass cheeks. And Arthur could see the rise and fall of Harry’s penis as
it snuggled in and out of Molly’s rear-end.

Harry kept up a furious pace – his massive cum-filled testicles were laying resounding smacks
upon Molly’s twat, which seemed to kiss them each time they slapped against it and the friction of
his enormous penis against her ass-crack felt amazing. He was spanking both her ass cheeks with
his hands as he did so, each hand alternating on each cheek, leaving them red and raw. Molly was
panting again, her pussy juices flowing down his balls now, droplets bouncing off them onto the
bed as her cunt drooled underneath his shaft. She slowly pushed herself up and snuck her right
hand underneath her, even as Harry kept humping her ass. And each time Harry’s testicles came
with range, she rubbed his balls with the flat of her palm, even as they smacked against her
vagina.

Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He spurt all over the floor – the sight of Molly cradling Harry’s
balls with her hand as he dry-humped her was just too much. “You whore!” he grunted, as he
ejactulated, “Fuck!” And his orgasm seemed to go on for almost twenty seconds before he finally
stopped ejaculating. His left hand was all wet now with his own sticky semen, but he just couldn’t
stop. Not now. Not even when the main event hadn’t started.

Harry laughed – that was possibly the first time he had heard Ginny’s father swear explicitly. Well,
no sense prolonging this, he thought. And he drew back.

With a gentle push, he stuffed his massive cockhead inside Molly’s gushing pussy. The auburn-
haired mother arched her back in pleasure and looked straight at the wall opposite her with
unseeing eyes. “Harry!” she screamed, “Gently! Your head is bigger than my husband’s entire
cock!”

And that set Arthur off again, and he was hard.

Harry pushed further. Molly’s twat seemed to dribble all over his penis as more inches of cock-
meat sunk deep into her cunt. And then, with a deep breath, Harry pushed. His hips met Molly’s
plump arse with a resounding clap and Molly pushed her face down into the bed to let out a
muffled scream.

“So… fucking… tight,” Harry grunted, “You’re a lucky man, Arthur.”

“Fuck!” Molly screamed, her words muffled by the bed she had pushed her face against, “I don’t
think I’ll ever be tight again, Harry!”

Harry choked out a laugh and then pulled back. Molly moaned at the gaping emptiness and then
let out another muffled scream as he plunged straight back in, filling her right back up. And just
like that, Harry starting pulverizing her pussy.

As for Harry himself, if he had thought that blowjob was amazing, this was truly heavenly. For a
woman who had popped out so many children, her twat was remarkably tight. He felt like he was
parting flesh each time he speared in, his head seemingly tearing her inner (soft, wet, silky) walls
apart as he plunged in. And his head met her bony cervix each time – slammed and smushed
against it - and Molly seemed to love the feeling. Like mother, like daughter, Harry thought again.

“And now onto the next level,” Harry said as he rose to his feet, keeping his penis stuffed into that
amazing cunt. He squatted down, his thighs nearly perpendicular to the ground, his feet planted
firmly on the bed. He was perched above her like a caveman, his dick was in her gushing cunt and
her gigantic ass was smushed against his abs. Time to act like a caveman then and pound her
pussy into dust.

And pound her he did. Molly felt him get up, but she hadn’t expected him to up the ante. He was
pulverizing her insides now, reshaping her cunt and absolutely ruining her for her own husband.
She screamed into the bed, slammed her hands against the soft material, tore at the sheets and
moaned. And the best and the worst part was that he was rubbing everywhere, against her sweet
spot and his balls were smashing against her puffy, swollen clitoris.

Arthur didn’t know he had it in him, but he was nearing a second ejaculation. He watched,
drooling as Harry rode his wife in a power stance, squatting atop the bed and virtually pounding
down on his wife’s ass as he slammed his meatstick into her gushing pussy.

After nearly twenty minutes of furious pounding, Harry grabbed Molly by her auburn tresses and
pulled. Molly’s muffled scream now turned into an open-mouthed scream as her face rose off the
bed and into the air. He then slumped back onto his knees and pulled Molly into him, her massive
arse squishing against his hard abdomen. He then let go of her hair and grabbed Molly’s tits with
both hands. Merlin, Harry thought, these are enormous! He juggled them, parted them and
slapped them together with his hands, groping and squeezing and relishing the heavy feel, even as
he pounded furiously into Molly’s pussy. And then he grabbed both her nipples with strong
fingers and pulled.

Molly screamed and squirted, again. She almost appeared to be pissing herself as a large puddle
grew on the bed. Arthur followed suit. At the sight of his wife shuddering in delight, he ejaculated
for the second time that night, adding to the droplets of sperm on the floor. His ejaculate was
notably less this time around and he knew he was practically running on fumes now. But he just
could not stop. Not with this young Adonis practically owning his wife like this.

Molly tried to scream out to Harry to stop. The pleasure was too much – it was overwhelming and
she was beginning to see spots. She really did try to scream at him to stop, but he showed no
mercy. He kept thrusting into her (the fucking brute) even as she squirted around his cock,
allowing her no respite at all. Her scream had long since died as she rode one high to the next, her
mouth now open and her eyes rolling up into her head.

She couldn’t even stay on her knees anymore, and slumped against Harry’s hands. He laughed
and let go. In relief, Molly tried to slump back down onto the bed, falling forward, but before she
could, Harry hooked his hands around her thighs from behind and lifted.

Molly gasped audibly as she was raised into the air, her legs spread out on either side, her thighs
held aloft by Harry’s powerful hands. Her back was slumped against his muscled chest and her
breasts were being jiggled around mercilessly by his constant pounding. She was spread-eagled in
his arms. Harry got off the bed and displayed her body to her husband, heaving breasts bouncing
atop a tummy that bulged periodically with each thrust of his penis. Arching back. Legs spread out
right at him. Plump ass squashed against Harry’s midriff. And on prominent display – her juicy
twat, tearing open at each titanic thrust of Harry’s enormous shaft.

Molly’s eyes were rolling up into the back of her skull. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth
like a bitch in heat and her mouth was gaping into a stupid smile. She was utterly and entirely lost
to bliss. And right next to her face was Harry’s, smiling confidently as he utterly destroyed her
cunt with his shaft.
Arthur remembered the scene he had peeped in on with Harry and Ginny in a hot flash. Harry was
dominating his wife exactly like he had dominated his daughter. And his wife was loving it.

And Harry’s pace nearly doubled. Arthur’s eyes bulged at the pace Harry was going at now.
Molly’s limbs were hanging loose off his hands, dangling useless as she was reduced to a
quivering mess.

“You cow,” Arthur snarled as his pace of masturbation turned frantic, “Look at you taking that log
up your dirty little hole.”

“I’m sorry, Artie!” Molly screamed, “I’m… sorry!” She was still making that stupid face. “This…
is… AMAZING! This… cock… AMAZING! FUCK!”

And the last word turned into a scream – only this time, it seemed to be stuck in her throat and
came out as a high-pitched keening sound. For the third time that evening, Molly squirted. And
she was barely three feet away from him. Each jet of delicious juice splattered his face and he was
drowning in a pleasure that extended beyond his own mind and his wife’s. And Arthur came,
again. This time, it was pretty much empty, only a few transparent drops oozing out of his battered
penis.

“Where do you want me to cum?” Harry asked, as Arthur jerked himself off furiously and his wife
just kept squirting, her entire body trembling and writhing as if it were under the Cruciatus.

“Seed me!” Molly screamed, just as Arthur yelled, “Inside.”

Harry grunted. Arthur watched in amazement as his heavy balls seemed to pulse – once, twice,
thrice, four times, five, six… it seemed to go on and on, And each time he pulsed, Molly seemed
to squirt, still letting out that choked scream. Luckily for Arthur, she was squirting down this time,
and her squirt seemed to be mixed with Harry’s ejaculate. His wife was practically sitting on
Harry’s balls now, his entire length buried inside Molly – the young man was practically ejecting
his baby batter right into Molly’s womb.

As Arthur came down from his own high and saw a mixture of Molly’s juices and Harry’s semen
forming a puddle on the ground, he was very thankful that they had prepared those anti-pregnancy
potions before this amazing encounter.

***

Arthur sighed happily as Harry pulled Molly off his shaft, now glistening with Molly’s pussy
juices, and slowly laid her onto the bed, his erect cock still throbbing. Harry’s wand seemed to
come out of nowhere as it appeared in his hand. He waved it over the dropped clothes and they
reappeared over his body, his belt fastening itself around his pants. He still had a very visible tent,
but he silently walked out of the bedroom, as coldly as he had come in.

There was nothing left to say.

Arthur gazed with lust-filled eyes at his gorgeous wife as she lay before him with her legs spread
out and her gaping cunt on display. What seemed to be gallons of semen were oozing out of her
cum-filled pussy. She had literally fainted with pleasure.

Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He jumped on top of his wife, buried his face in her cleavage and
burrowed his small prick in her pussy.

She was very loose, and he loved it. He used Harry’s sperm as a lubricant as he slid in and out of
her sloshing pussy like a man possessed. And in four strokes, he had orgasmed again – a
completely dry orgasm this time – and dropped beside his wife with a sigh as he went to sleep.

He had never been happier, and he could not explain why. Harry was everything he and his wife
had dreamed about, and much, much more.

***

Harry didn’t go up to Ron’s bedroom. He didn’t want to.

He went straight down to Ginny’s bedroom. He entered it and saw that it was brightly lit. Ginny
was lying on the bed and gazing up at the ceiling. Her eyes snapped to the door as he entered and
her face lit up with a smile.

He opened his mouth, but she quickly crossed over to him and shut him up with a kiss. She drew
off and said, “I don’t care. I don’t need to know. I love you.”

“And I love you,” he rejoined.

She smiled, and started unbuckling his pants. “Then prove it,” she said, “Prove that you’re mine.
Make love to me.”

And Harry bestowed an affectionate smile upon her as they kissed and tumbled onto the bed.
Harry knew this wasn’t going to be like the frenzied stuff he had done upstairs. This was going to
be loving and gentle.

He could sort out his feelings tomorrow. For now, he was with the one he loved, and he could
keep going with her forever.

***

The next day

“Ginny,” Ron asked his sister tentatively, “Is something troubling you?”

He had noticed his sister biting her lip as she looked at Harry flying around the Burrow on his
Firebolt. She was disturbed by something. And he wanted to help. He knew Harry had been
sneaking down to his sister’s bedroom, and he didn’t mind (he imagined he would be doing the
exact same thing once Hermione visited the Burrow).

Ginny looked at Ron and then looked away. Then she looked back at him, and hesitantly, began
to speak.

***
 Warrior, Part 1

Harry zoomed around on his newly acquired Nimbus 2001, zig-zagging through the trees in the
orchard next to the Weasley home with the wind whipping around his face. He loved this feeling
– the feeling of leaving all earthly emotions behind and just living in the moment.

But lately, he was plagued by all sorts of emotions – emotions he felt even here, in the Burrow, in
what was supposed to be his escape and safe haven. The most prominent among those emotions
was, strangely, happiness. Not the sort of happiness that was brought about by peace and
contentment, but the sort of fierce joy brought about by nights of debauchery and violence.

And that worried him. Ginny had been right – he had changed after the war. Ron had broached
the topic with him as well, and he knew that if Ron noticed, then it was more evident that Harry
had realised. He kept shrugging it off, but he knew that the question was valid. And the worst part
was that he knew what the answer was - he knew why he had changed.

The answer was a piece of wood strapped to the holster on his right arm. The Elder Wand.

He sighed as he rose into the air, higher and higher on his broom. What he had done after the
Battle was beautiful and noble and poetic – he had given up the fearsome power of the Elder
Wand for a life of purported peace and happiness. It was an earnest gesture, one worthy of Harry
Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Slayer of Voldemort and the Golden Boy of Gryffindor. Just like in
the stories.

It was ironic then that the very next day after the Battle of Hogwarts, even as medi-wizards and
medi-witches crowded around tents set up within the ruins of Hogwarts to tend to wounded
students and adults alike, he noticed Xenophilius Lovegood, of all people, skulking around
Dumbledore’s marble tomb and trying to pry open the lid of the grave.

Xeno Lovegood! And he was supposed to be one of the good people!

In retrospect, Harry had divulged quite a bit in his last speech to Voldemort, and in front of quite a
few spectators as well, missing Death Eaters among them. The Malfoys had practically vanished
after the battle, and so had the Notts. And of course, several residents of Hogsmeade had heard his
little speech as well – word tended to get around and the Elder Wand had quite a reputation, even
outside the shores of England.

Of course, it would take a crafty wizard to put together what Harry had said and surmise that the
Elder Wand was buried in Dumbledore’s tomb, but Lovegood had figured it out, and so would
others. So Harry snuck into the tomb a fortnight after the battle, after much hair-splitting and nail-
biting, and retrieved the wand.

He promised he wouldn’t use it – that he’d just learn enough to safeguard it forever and let it die
with him. But he had forgotten how powerfully seductive magical objects could be. He had long
since formed a hypothesis - the Hallows didn’t just attract people of a certain mindset, like the
stories said; the Hallows actually changed minds. He supposed that was what the Cloak did – it
subtly influenced him to actually aspire to a life of mediocrity, staying under the radar and keeping
his abilities as much a secret as he could so that he would live long and be prosperous. Of course,
the Cloak did not make him meek and subservient – it still gave him enough strength to push
himself to achieve just enough to save his own life (and perhaps that of his friends). For the Cloak
was supposed to help people evade death.

However, the Wand was different. It was not subtle at all – it was a powerful object, but as blunt
as a bull in a china shop, bludgeoning his mind with fury and violence... and, he presumed, lust.
He was told, time and again, by Ginny that his ability in bed couldn’t possibly be human. Harry
liked to think it was all him (and perhaps it truly was), but his stamina did seem to be inhuman…
not that he (or Ginny) was complaining. And the Wand had affected his body quite noticeably –
he was broader than Fred or George and his muscles had grown by inches in circumference. Of
course, he did go to a gym in London to work off his feelings of frustration (not to mention the
release granted by the sexual gymnastics he practiced on Ginny at night), but he knew that this
increase in muscle mass wasn’t just due to his regular exercise and Dursley-trained eating habits.
Of course, one part of him had remained the same, but his body seemed to have grown to match it.

He had not been inclined to complain though – until today. He realized he had just had sex with
his girlfriend’s mom – it had hit him with full force when he woke up at the crack of dawn in
Ron’s room; he had retreated to Ron’s room after an hour-long session with Ginny that left the
redhead girl tired, but sated. And the thing was – he wasn’t guilty. At all. And that disturbed him.
Moreover, he reveled in the feeling of conquest, almost like he enjoyed being submerged in a sea
of ceaseless violence and rough sex.

And the alarming part was his sudden realization that he truly wanted that sort of life – he just
knew, deep inside, that should another battle fall upon him, he would revel in that as well, bathing
himself in violence. But for some reason, he kept putting off his quest to find a way secret the
Elder Wand away from him.

He looked down at his girlfriend from his broom, who was engaged in conversation with her
brother on the ground, and sighed. He really loved her, but he had also loved pounding her
gorgeous, buxom mother silly, and he knew what he could do to stop that (throw away the Elder
Wand), but he didn’t want to. He did not want the status quo to change. And that should have
troubled him, but it did not.

***

Ron walked around the Burrow in a daze. He knew Harry had not come to the room last night.
And he thought he knew why – but Ginny had disabused him of his notion. Harry had not slept
with Ginny, as Ron had thought he did, but with Molly Weasley. His mom.

Ron curled his palm into a fist and pounded against the wall of his dad’s garage, which he had
leaning on. He knew that his dad had a peculiar fetish, and he hadn’t really thought about it
before. And now that he did think about it, the thought of his mother with a stranger was infinitely
better than the thought of his mother with his best friend…

Ron paused in his stream of thought. Or at least, that is exactly what he would have thought. What
he should have thought. But did he truly think that?

Involuntarily, he thought of the shared showers in the Quidditch locker rooms. Unlike the dorms,
which had curtained showers, the locker rooms pretty much had open showers with opaque glass
barriers separating them on two sides and a wall on the third. But the entrance to each booth had
always been curtain free. And Ron did not have any qualms about that.

As such, he had seen Harry’s… stuff… in the showers. He knew Oliver Wood had made constant
fun of Harry for that – his own brothers had joined in often as well (“H. J. P? You think it stands
for Harry James Potter? Ha! More like Holy Jumbo Penis”, Ron thought with a cringe). But
despite the jokes, the catcalling, he knew that each of them been intimidated by it too; Dean had
once joked to Ron that poor Michael only got to Cho after Harry – Dean said he himself would
never touch a woman that had been around that.

And the thought of that thing being inside his own mom… Ron shuddered. He didn’t even want
to think about that. And yet he could not stop thinking about it. He should be thinking about
Hermione – he had received her owl today and she was coming back the next day – who had said
she would visit the Burrow as soon as she arrived. She was happy and had finally reconciled with
her forgiving parents and they were all planning to settle back in England.

And yet, the thought of Harry niggled and chipped away at his mind. And Ron had no idea why.

***

Harry dismounted from the broom, landing in a graceful sweep. Ginny smiled at him, held out his
hand and asked, “Please?”

“Cute,” Harry said playfully, “Very, very cute. But I don’t know about all these... demands. A
man’s broom is his life.”

“Says the boy who broke a Nimbus 2000 and then a Firebolt,” Ginny said, and then laughed as
she grabbed the broom right out of his hands. She laughed and took into the air.

Harry just smiled at her fast retreating back as she zoomed into the air in a steep curve. He then
entered the Weasley home, famished. He had come back from the gym and taken straight to the
air, with no snacks in between and with so much on his mind. He was now beginning to feel the
pangs of hunger - it soothed him in a way, reminding him of his humanity.

The Weasleys had refurbished their home after the loss of the Burrow in the war. While the house
was still as dilapidated as ever, the inside was surprisingly chic and modern – he supposed Arthur
could afford better builders this time around to charm the inside of his house. Harry knew there
were several wards that lent themselves well to space expansion and maintenance, and the
Weasley house used them well. The hall was massive now – the staircase to the upper floors was
in a corner right next to the door. The sitting area sprawled out before him with classy leather
sofas gathered around a silver screen – a WWW product and Fred’s last gift to the world: the
wizarding equivalent of a television set. George, with a significant portion of Harry’s wealth, had
begun churning out television sets by the dozen and told Harry they were in great demand at the
moment – even shipping out as far away as the United States.

The sitting area led to a dining area, which sat atop a slightly elevated platform. A long, ornate
dining table sat there, with at least twenty chairs, although it could seat up to forty. Harry had to
marvel at the magic that went into making the area this large. And even beyond the dining area
was a posh kitchen and Molly’s favorite part of the house. It sat beyond a wide kitchen separation
wall, or as Molly called it – a “kitchen counter” - lined with granite. It was a refreshingly open set
up, and all of the stoves and basins were stacked neatly within the kitchen area. The people sat at
the dining table could see Molly bustle around beyond the separation, which only reached up to
waist height, and Molly could see them in turn. It was open and relaxed, as opposed to the
cluttered, cramped set-up the Weasleys had before.

He saw nobody in the hall or the dining area – Arthur had gone to work and Ron was off
wandering around the grounds (probably pining after Hermione, Harry thought). He wondered
where Molly was, but then he shrugged and entered the kitchen.

And he was greeted with a fabulous view. Molly Weasley was bent over, her magnificent, wide
ass on display (that arse has to be at least 50 inches across, Harry marveled), and her head was
inside a stove, probably inspecting something she had left to bake. Harry really tried not to stare,
but he had been inside that gorgeous thing, and it was now hard to not stare at it. He remembered
palming and hugging and nipping at that luscious behind. He felt his member hardening and he
knew that would be hard to hide, so he quickly turned around and cleared his throat. Molly’s head
snapped up to look at him and she smiled.
Harry grinned at her – he knew he wasn’t supposed to, but involuntary thoughts of “Oh yeah, I
tapped that” were swimming through his head. So he kept his mouth shut and nodded at her as he
walked towards the cupboard where Molly usually kept light snacks.

Truth be told, he was surprised at how indifferent Molly and Arthur were to the whole incident
last night. It was as if they were separate people – a depraved couple inside the bedroom and
loving parents outside of it. He was astonished at how they could switch personas at ease. At the
same time, there was a bounce to Arthur’s steps in the morning (which Harry could not fathom –
how could a man do that and feel even happier?) and Molly kept shooting him these sultry smiles
when nobody was looking. He knew right then that it had not been a one-time thing – he would
be invited into their marital bed again and they would love it. And the disturbing thing was – he
totally wanted it. He wanted to assert his dominance over Molly, tame her and make her husband
a vassal and…

Harry shook his head as he tip-toed around Molly, deliberately not glancing at her and focusing
solely on the cupboard. And just as he had reached out a hand to grasp the handle, he felt a hand
grope his semi-hard penis.

He looked down in surprise and saw a delicate hand holding his shaft in a surprisingly strong grip
through his loose track pants, squeezing it ever so pleasantly. The hand belonged (of course,
Harry thought with an internal sigh) to Molly Weasley.

The woman was looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes as she stepped closer to him, her
breasts pressing against his left arm. And then with both hands, she was tugging at his clothed
penis, as if trying to will it to come to life by desperate wringing.

“Did you think you could boss me around last night and get away with it?” Molly asked, her voice
husky and low, “Did you think the Weasley Matriarch was so easy to tame?”

Harry groaned as Molly bent down and pulled his trousers off along with his underwear, leaving
him completely naked from the waist down. She then lifted up his hardening organ with both
hands and tugged again. She was pulling him, making him step over his pants and in the direction
she desired, as if his cock were a leash. She led him over to the kitchen counter.

She then turned him around to face her, so that the kitchen counter, the dining area and the sitting
area were all off to their side. Anyone who looked would think they were just having a casual
conversation face to face, but that was only because the waist-high counter prevented them from
seeing Molly Weasley’s hands frantically beating off Harry’s cock.

“You like that, hm?” Molly asked idly, her voice still smooth and oh-so-sultry, as she jerked him
off, tugging and pulling at his penis with her arms outstretched, “You like your best friend’s mom
jerking off your big cock while your girlfriend’s outside, don’t you, you naughty boy?”

Her hands were whipping back and forth now – they felt wonderfully soft running over his shaft –
and Harry groaned at the immensely pleasant friction. And just as his penis rose to full mast and
stood ramrod straight, something inside him – rebellious and vicious and vengeful – rose up. His
magic thrummed and his eyes blazed.

He grinned. His hands, which were hanging useless by his sides, now grasped Molly’s face in an
iron grip and pulled her towards him. He bent down and caught her lips in a searing kiss. He
mauled her insides with his tongue and pulled off with a slurp. Molly was looking completely
befuddled as she kept jerking him off like a clueless automaton.

Harry then let go of her face and then spanked her ass with both hands. He palmed them, even as
she continued to stroke him and pulled her closer, groping and pulling her cheeks this way and
that.

Molly let go of his shaft with a yelp as she felt him pull her towards him, with his mitts mauling
her ass, and brought her hands up to his chest. She meant to push away and reassert dominance,
but all she ended up doing was run her hands helplessly over his bulging pectorals, hard as stone,
but so hot to the touch.

He pulled her flush against him, her massive tits mashing into his chest, as her back arched ever so
slightly backward and she looked up at him with a blissful expression. And then their lips met in
another searing kiss. She moaned into his mouth as he squeezed her ass particularly hard.

“Merlin,” he said as they pulled apart for breath, with her still squashed up against him, “I can’t
stop feeling up your fantastic arse, Molly! I mean, your tits are equally great… but this ass… holy
shit!”

Molly grinned at him and said, “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”

“Oh, incredibly so, Molly,” Harry said shamelessly as his fingers dug into her endlessly cushy ass.

And they kissed again, slobbering tongues meeting and twining together. And then, after a solid
minute of French kissing, they drew apart, with Molly gasping for breath. She looked down and
smiled. Harry’s massive piece of meat was sandwiched right between Harry’s rock-hard abdomen
and her lush tummy, pressing into her very snugly. And it was so huge, even turned upwards, that
the enormous cockhead was snuggled between her smushed-up breasts.

“It’s peering at me,” she said, and giggled.

“What?” Harry asked, completely puzzled.

“Your trouser snake has an eye,” Molly said, still looking down and giggling, “And it’s staring at
me!”

Harry laughed as well, and then groaned as Molly started moving up and down on her toes against
him, his cock snuggling in and out of her cleavage, which was still mashed against own chest. He
let her do so for a whole minute, and then stopped her in her tracks – this teasing could go on
forever, and he would love it, but Ginny or Ron could walk in at any minute and he needed to
stop.

Not that he wanted to, in any case. So he did what any red-blooded male would do – he pulled
Molly apart enough to slide her robes over her head. And just as she took them off, he
surreptitiously drew out the Elder Wand and anchored a Confundus Charm to the dining table –
anyone who drew close to them would now be confounded, and hopefully, so confused they
wouldn’t quite notice Harry banging his girlfriend’s mom. Or maybe they would... and he just
could not bring himself to care.

Harry snapped his eyes back to Molly, who had shrugged off her robes. Underneath, she was
wearing a shirt and a pair of underpants. She made as if to take of the shirt, but Harry grabbed her
hands.

“Keep the shirt on,” he said, “But take off your bloody pants.”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Molly said naughtily, as she complied and shrugged off her pants.

And she had barely stepped out of her pants, when Harry grabbed and slapped her now naked ass
again, groping them even harder this time around as he pulled her to meet him in another one of
his amazing kisses. He angled down – for a moment, Molly gasped as she felt his cockhead come
in contact with her dripping pussy (Morgana, she was so turned on right now), but it pushed
against her clitoris and slipped right past between her thighs.

“Merlin!” Molly gasped, as Harry drew her flush against him again. She reached a hand out
behind her and felt Harry’s massive cockhead extending even beyond her ass as her thighs
sandwiched his meat. “I feel like I’m sitting on a log, you brute!”

“Well,” Harry said lightly, “You seem to like it. I can feel you dripping all over my log, you horny
cow.”

Molly squeeze her thighs tightly around his cock and rose up again to kiss him, both of her hands
now rising up to clutch his face, but Harry jerked his face back.

“Now,” he said, “I’m going to see if I can tame this horny cow.”

Molly’s pussy was gushing over his cock now and her nipples were rock hard, albeit crushed by
Harry’s obsidian chest.

“Stick out your tongue,” he commanded, his breath hot and fresh on her face. She flushed and
obeyed, sticking out her tongue as far as it could go. And Harry dove in – his lips coiled around
her tongue and he sucked on it, his own tongue licking and lapping around hers. Molly moaned
loudly and she felt her cunt throb – she had never had someone humiliate her in this fashion
before. She supposed they were quite a sight – both half naked from the waist down, grinding into
each other with his massive shaft sandwiched by her thighs, rubbing up against her own drooling
pussy.

And then he started moving, still suckling on her tongue, in short sharp strokes with his balls
slapping against her thighs as his massive shaft rubbed deliciously against her cunt. If she thought
the feeling of his hot, throbbing cock simply resting against her vagina was pleasant before, the
feeling of that blazing, pulsating shaft scrape against her swollen clit as it jerked back and forth
was absolutely divine. Her folds were now completely and utterly agape, hugging his shaft as it
pushed in and out past them at a rapid rhythm.

“Your thighs feel divine, Molly,” Harry gasped, taking his mouth off her tongue for now, “My log
loves the feel of your fat fucking thighs.”

Molly merely gaped at him – he was moving at an impossible pace now, his penis just stabbing
back and forth against her pussy as he palmed her fat ass to his heart’s content. His balls were
slapping hard and fast against her thighs now as his cock mashed back and forth and the clap-
clap-clap sound echoed throughout the entrance hall.

The Weasley Matriarch was so horny right now. “Harry,” she managed, in between flashes of
pleasure, “Please…”

“Please what?” Harry taunted, still grinding effortlessly against her.

“Please…” Molly said and gasped as Harry smashed against her thighs particularly hard, his balls
flapping dirtily against her milky flesh, “Fuck!”

She had meant it as an exclamation, but Harry seemed to interpret it as a request and with a few
choice words – “Looks like the cow has been tamed!” he taunted – he pulled her off, turned her
towards the kitchen counter and pushed her against it.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, and Molly complied. She leaned against the kitchen separator
and stood with her legs wide apart, or at least as wide apart as she could manage under the
circumstances. Her legs were quivering with pleasure and she knew she was approaching a
massive orgasm. And Id idn’t even know I could have orgasms like this till last night, she thought.

A glob of juice dripped down her pussy and plopped upon the ground, making her blush as she
realised how painfully aroused she was. Arthur never managed to make me this wet, Molly
thought, Oh, boy, is he going to love it when I tell him about how Harry pleasured me in my own
kitchen tonight.

Harry grabbed a hold of his shaft and smacked it against Molly’s dribbling vagina. She squealed
in surprise. The brute, she thought, for she could barely speak, he’s going to ruin me. Harry
merely laughed and continued to lay hard smacks right against her vagina with his fuckmeat, and
each one felt more amazing than the last as it slammed right onto her over-sensitive clit, over and
over again. At around the tenth smack, she could barely take it and came, violently.

Her pussy quivered, fluttered and squirted, for the fourth time in her entire life. Jets of cum hosed
right out of her vagina, spewing all over the kitchen floor she worked so hard to keep clean. And
the brute behind her was just standing there and laughing.

And even as she was squirting, she felt a massive dome part her folds once more. “NO!” she
screamed as she thought, I’m not ready! No!

She slammed a fist against the counter and gritted her teeth as she let out a muffled scream. She
did not know it was possible to feel even more pleasure at this moment, but apparently, she could.
Because Harry sheathed himself inside her in one bestial thrust and she ascended to another high,
even as she rode out her orgasm. Flashes of color appeared at the edge of her vision and she dimly
remembered that she was standing right in the kitchen where everyone could see her being fucked
like a whore. But she no longer cared – she was floating, dreaming, even as a massive cock
speared in and out of her tight orifice, hitting places she did not even know existed. Her insides -
her fat, fucking, cheating insides - were moulding themselves to his superior cockmeat.

“Hnnnnnnnnnnngh!” Molly continued to scream through her gritted teeth as she kept squirting
and quivering and massaging Harry’s shaft, which were practically pounding her mercilessly into
the counter.

And that was when Ginny entered the room with Harry’s Nimbus clutched in her hand.

***

Ron was still moving in a daze, circling the Burrow, trying to sort out his confusing feelings about
Harry and his mother and his own insecurities about it all.

And so, as he neared the window that looked into the kitchen of the Burrow, his flow of confused,
flurried thoughts stopped abruptly when he heard his mother’s voice float out through the
window. “Harry,” his mom was moaning, and his ears immediately perked up, his mind clouding
up with foreboding, “Please…”

He knew he should not peek. He knew he should not be witness to this. He knew he should not
have wanted to witness this. But as if puppeteered by invisible strings, he walked briskly over to
the window, and peeked around the edge of the sill. And gasped softly at the sight.

Right next to the kitchen counter were Harry and his Mom, facing each other with fiercely
passionate gazes. They were naked from the waist down. And Ron gulped as he saw just what
was spearing between his mother’s meaty thighs. A massive, purpling cockhead rushed under and
then out of the biggest ass Ron had ever seen, glistening with what he could only assume to be his
mom’s arousal. His best friend's hands were practically sinking into his mother's quaking assflesh,
as the enormous fuckmeat jerked back and forth, making his mother moan like a horny whore.
In a haze, Ron watched as Harry turned his mother around, pushed her up against the kitchen
counter like she was a piece of luggage, and started slapping her twat with his massive meat. And
then his eyes nearly bugged out when his mom started squirting all over the place. Ron didn’t care
anymore; he poked his head right into the window – his mom and best friend were too occupied to
even notice. The stimulation was too much – he unzipped his jeans, still in a daze. His penis
popped out – far, far smaller than Harry’s monster, he noticed with a pang – and he started
rubbing it furiously at the sight of his best friend making his mother cum.

And even before his mother had finished squirting, Harry just slammed his shaft into her pussy
like he owned it. His mom’s ass was rippling in the light of the day (it was broad daylight! The
nerve of them! Ron thought incredulously, not even noticing the fact that he himself was
masturbating outside in the same broad daylight) as his best friend sawed his throbbing cock in
and out of her tight cunt. His mother was screaming – Ron had never heard her screaming like
that before.

And then everyone just froze as Ginny, of all people, walked into the room. The window was
diagonally behind Harry and his mom, so he couldn’t quite make out their expressions, but he
imagined they were as stupefied as he was.

Ginny just walked casually up to the kitchen – in the meantime, he saw Harry blindly grope for
the snack cupboard behind him (without even moving out of his mother’s cunt, which, even now
drooled over his cock. Harry quickly opened the drawer and grabbed a snack.

Ginny had reached the counter. “Hey, Harry, Mum,” she said brightly.

Ron ducked a bit behind the sill, but he still peeked around it. He gaped at Ginny’s utter
cluelessness – she had told him about Harry and his mom, she had been troubled about it, and here
she was, just chatting casually with them as Harry’s enormous fuckstick was buried deep in his
mom’s blubbering twat.

“Hey, Ginny,” Harry said brightly. Ron gaped at him – he had no idea how Harry managed to
maintain his composure in that position. Harry casually unwrapped the snack – it was a chocolate
frog - and happily munched upon it.

He noticed that his Mom’s cheek (both her face and her arse) was utterly red, like she was
suppressing a scream.

“Ooh,” Ginny chirped, “Can I have one of those too?”

Harry just shrugged, pulled his wand out from his shift sleeve, and floated one over from the open
cupboard to Ginny.

“Thanks!” Ginny said, “I’ll just go put the broom up in the shed – is that okay?”

“You sure?” Harry asked, as he started moving his hips casually back and forth. Ron didn’t think
he could be any more shocked this day, but he was proved wrong and he started hyperventilating
as Harry started grinding in and out of his mom’s still quivering twat. The woman herself was
clenching her fists tightly as she was shoved lightly back and forth; and she was looking straight
down at… a book. She’s pretending to read a book on the counter, Ron thought incredulously,
and his fist started vigorously rubbing at his own penis again.

C’mon, Gin, Ron thought as he masturbated furiously, They’re rutting like beasts right in front of
you! Catch them! Harry’s fucking buried in our mother’s dripping twat! He’s spearing her hot,
wet tunnel with his enormous thing! He’s fucking her in front of you! He's claiming her cunt, he's
taking it away from Dad! He's going to fucking own her, destroy her twat...
“Yeah,” Ginny said, “It’s no bother.” Then his sister shrugged and proceeded to walk right out,
munching on her chocolate frog.

Bloody fucking hell, Ron thought, This is unreal!

And just as Ginny cleared the hallway, Harry seemed to explode into motion. He dropped the
chocolate frog onto the floor and slammed his hand right onto his mother’s right ass-cheek, which
was in Ron’s field of vision, leaving a red handprint on the jiggling flesh. His mother bent her
head further down and let out a close-mouthed scream. And she just didn’t stop screaming. Harry
was practically jackhammering into her at a pace Ron couldn’t match with his hand.

“You loved that, didn’t you?” Harry taunted her, “Rutting your daughter’s boyfriend right in front
of her? Seducing him with your amazing arse and your tight twat?”

Molly Weasley just kept screaming, unable to vocalize her thoughts, perhaps not even thinking at
the moment.

Why is mom such a slut! Ron thought as he started tugging furiously at his penis. He was getting
so close now. And his head was fully in view of the window now. If only Harry and Molly were
to turn their heads, they’d see Ron jerking off his four-inch pecker shamelessly at the sight of his
mom being pounded to mush by his best friend.

Harry then shifted his grip abruptly, clutching at her shoulders with his hands, and increased his
speed, pounding into the slut (Mom is such a slut, mom is such a slut – was the refrain running
through Ron’s head) at an impossible pace, Harry’s heavy balls slapping back and forth wildly
and his cum-coated shaft plunging through her folds effortlessly. With a start, Ron realized that his
mom was still cumming – he could hear her pussy sloshing as Harry slammed into her.

And then Harry stopped and buried himself deep into Molly Weasley’s vagina, as if he was
digging for treasure with his cock deep inside his mother’s womb. Ron’s mom was screaming
openly now, as Harry let out a series of low moans. He’s cumming inside her, Ron realized. And
then, something inside Ron’s head snapped and he wasn’t looking at Harry pounding his mom’s
huge arse anymore.

Instead, he saw Harry pounding into a tiny, but perky ass, practically dominating a slim girl
underneath him with his massive shaft just tearing apart an impossibly tiny pussy. Bushy brown
hair lay sprawled forward on the kitchen counter, as opposed to Molly Weasley’s auburn wavy
tresses, as the girl being pounded by Harry’s enormous veiny penis started screaming and
blubbering…

Oh fuck, Hermione!

That was the trigger for him and Ron just let out several spurts of semen as he orgasmed right onto
the wall outside the kitchen just as Harry seemed to empty himself in the twat he was spearing.

And then, Harry pulled out with a loud pop. His shaft was gleaming with fluids from both of their
bodies and Harry just flopped it down casually atop Molly Weasley’s red, glowing butt. Harry
used his mom's ass-cleavage as if it were a towel as he wiped his cum off on her plump rear. Ron
came to his senses with a daze and gaped at the size of Harry’s penis that had settled right over his
mom's fat booty – how had that even fit inside?

Harry bent down and laid a fond kiss upon Molly’s back as she blubbered over the book lying on
the counter, still trying to come down from the prolonged orgasm she had just had. Ron quickly
zipped himself up and started walking briskly away from the house, away from it all… he wanted
to sort out what he had just felt, what he had just done… oh Merlin, what had he done?
But just as Ron half-walked, half-ran from the house, he heard Harry say, “You know I’ll be
around, babe.”

And that’s the problem, Ron thought.

***
 Warrior, Part 2
Chapter Notes

A/N and Sort-of Disclaimer: Just want to make it absolutely clear that this IS PWP.
There's no point to this fanfiction, apart from release. It's a male-centric fantasy -
which means it has little to do with realism and everything to do with moronic
horniness - and nothing more, so please don't take it too seriously.

***

“You know I’m not going away forever, right?” Harry asked Ginny, gently squeezing her hand.

He had announced at dinner this evening that he had decided to accept the Gringotts internship
offer. It was a fantastic opportunity and Gringotts had never before made an offer to a mere
Hogwarts student before, or so he heard from everyone around him. Granted, he had beaten a
Dark Lord, so he supposed he had earned it, but it was still quite an honor.

But deep inside, he knew that wasn’t the real reason he was taking up the internship. He knew
that while he was very happy at the Burrow (very happy indeed), he was getting restless. The
amazing sex alone just wasn’t cutting it for him. He hungered for more. He knew that was mainly
the Elder Wand speaking to him, but he saw no reason to refuse the impulse. He had momentum
going for him now and he was loath to abandon it.

And he had barely even used the Deathstick, resorting mainly to his original wand – he knew
practically anyone (including Xenophilius and Luna, who visited often) could spot the Elder
Wand and know it for what it was. Not to mention Ron… and Hermione (who popped in and out
of the Burrow with a skip in her step because she had reconciled with her parents – she stayed at
her folks’ place though), who could identify it in an instant. So he had kept it hidden; however, the
longer he held onto the wand, the more it influenced him. The more it whispered to him – of
secrets, of spells, of powerful magic long since lost to man. He had recently found that he could
practically think and just will the wand to disappear into the ether and then summon it at will, just
drawing it out of thin air.

And there were many more secrets to unravel. He needed to work away from those that knew him
well, at least for a while, and this Gringotts internship was a fantastic opportunity. He did know
that Bill and Fleur still worked at Gringotts, but Fleur was still on her maternity leave and Bill did
not know him well enough to know he was slowly changing.

“I know you’re not going away forever,” Ginny said, and sighed, “But I just… you vanished
during that horrible war! I didn’t see you for a year, and now you tell me you’re going away
again.”

She bowed her head and looked at the ground sadly, her warm, brown eyes glimmering with
tears. Harry gently raised her chin up and looked into those warm eyes. “Ginny,” he said softly,
“We have a lifetime together. And this is the opportunity of a lifetime. We’ve had months of
vacation after the Battle. It’s been a year and I feel restless… like I’m doing absolutely nothing
with my life.”

“I…” Ginny said, and swiped at her eyes, “It’s just… promise… I don’t… I feel like you’re
leaving me behind.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “If this is about your mom…,” he started.

Ginny’s eyes flashed up at him. “No!” Ginny said, “No, no. That’s not it at all. I know you don’t
really love her, not like… me.”

But I love the sex, Harry thought guiltily, and I’m growing quite fond of my Molly.

“And even if you did,” Ginny continued, “I don’t care – I know you’ve got enough space in that
big dumb heart for me.”

“Ginny,” Harry said earnestly, “You’ve got a space no one else can ever hold.”

“I know,” Ginny said playfully, “I believe you made that quite clear last night.”

Harry blushed. And there’s the part I’m going to miss, Harry thought. He had made love to Ginny
in practically every part of the house. He hadn’t really even touched Molly since that time they
had sex in the kitchen, nearly a week ago. In fact, Hermione had returned the next day and in her
watchful presence, there had only been a few glances and gropes (mostly Molly groping him
rather than the other way around), but nothing really physical. Ginny, on the other hand…

And there had been another issue – Ron. Ron was behaving very, very weirdly. Ginny confessed
to him that she had confided in Ron about the whole thing with Molly and Arthur, so Harry had
expected an angry confrontation. But strangely, Ron was looking at him, not with anger or
disgust, but with… awe? It was very, very weird – the last time he had seen Ron like this was
during the World Cup when he saw Viktor Krum.

He had also noticed Ron and Ginny arguing with each other quite a bit. Ron and Ginny had
always sort of been at odds with each other over her love life, but Harry didn’t think their
arguments were about the same topic this time around. Not that he never could ever get a straight
answer from either of them when he asked them what they were arguing about. Ron just looked
away, or tried to distract him with Quidditch or chess, while Ginny just shushed him and told him
he might find out later.

So at the end of the day, he supposed there were more reasons to leave and learn something new,
than to stay and relax. But he still had to reassure Ginny.

So he leaned in to capture her lips with a kiss, conveying all of his feelings through that single
gesture. And then she got into his lap and he smiled.

Oh he loved reassuring her in this fashion. Although, she probably loved being reassured even
more.

***

Harry checked and re-checked his bag – he would only be carrying the most basic provisions as
per his instructions from Gringotts. Apparently, he was going on a field trip – a bunch of French
Aurors were leading an expedition into the Alps to recover an as-of-yet undisclosed artifact. Bill
Weasley and Harry were the only English members that were part of the team. Harry had no idea
why he – an intern – was chosen to go with the team, but he guessed Bill had had something to do
with that. His welcome pack had also informed him that the field trip was expected to be a walk in
the park; it was only expected to last five days and all provisions would be arranged by Gringotts.

As such, Harry had the Invisibility Cloak and several sets of clothes and toiletries stuffed into a
satchel, assisted by an expansion charm. Of course, he also had access to the Elder Wand, apart
from his own phoenix feather wand. He was getting quite proficient at drawing it out of thin air
and willing it to disappear after all the practicing he did in the isolation of the orchard near the
Burrow.

He had already said his goodbyes to Arthur and Molly. He was in the sitting area alongside
Ginny, waiting for her eldest brother to arrive and portkey him to what would serve as
Headquarters for the next week or so. He was puzzled at the fact that Ron and Hermione hadn’t
come down to see him off – he knew he had told them he was leaving today.

As if on cue, Ginny leaned over and said, “Harry, Ron said you should meet him upstairs before
you go. He’s had something on his mind for weeks, and he just wants to settle it with you.”

Harry checked his watch – he had only around three-quarters of an hour before Bill was
scheduled to arrive and he did not want to keep Bill waiting. At the same time, he was really
curious about Ron’s behavior and wanted to know what was bothering the man.

And in any case, he could never really refuse his best friend, so he shrugged, smiled at Ginny and
climbed up the stairs to the top floor of the Burrow. Strangely enough, Ginny gave him the
strangest smile as he left – she had looked incredibly smug before, but he knew that was because
he had shagged her rotten the previous night. But this smile was different from her previous smug
expression. This was the sort of smile she used to give him back in his Gryffindor seeker days
(soon to return, or so he hoped, since Hogwarts was going to reopen in a few months) when she
told him to “go get that Snitch.”

Weird.

***

“Ron,” Hermione said in a worried voice, “I’m really not sure about this.”

Ron was laying soft kisses down her neck and was running his arms up and down her sides. He
was acting very frisky and she did not understand it. She and Ron had become sexually active
even before she left for Australia. Of course, now that the frenzy caused by the war was over, she
was a bit torn on whether they would last as a couple, but she thought that with perseverance and
understanding, they could surely work it out.

Lately though, they had been having problems. Their love life had never really blown her socks
off – not since the day she had lost her virginity anyway – but she wasn’t really unhappy about
their sex life, as infrequent as it was. Ever since she had returned, however, Ron had been acting
really strange. He had never really lasted beyond ten or fifteen minutes, but she had always
figured with practice, he would get better and they could make the long, sweet love she had
always dreamed off. Recently, however, Ron would just get a faraway look in his eye when they
initiated sex and he would blow practically as soon as she touched him.

And that was getting her incredibly frustrated. She tried to get him to focus, to masturbate before
they did stuff (which did work, but even more frustratingly, he just wouldn’t get hard for hours
after he finished) and eventually, had asked him exactly what got him so turned on before she had
even begun.

Ron kept stalling, but a week ago, he had broken down and told her that he had this fantasy.

She had laughed at it, but then he just didn’t stop going on about it. And that got her intrigued as
well. She asked him what had triggered this whole fantasy, but Ron remained tight-lipped about it,
only asking her if she was willing. And then begging and pleading.
And on the last day, just before the object of Ron’s fantasy was about to leave, she had accepted.
Ron had rushed out, then rushed back into the room and said it would only take a few minutes.

Hermione gulped. Even if she had accepted Ron’s weird request, she hadn’t really expected things
to fall into place so fast. But if it got Ron off… but she did think it was strange, considering how
the very same thought that was now spurring him on had previously caused him to storm out
when they were hunting for Horcruxes. Hermione shuddered. She didn’t even want to go there.
And if Ron had gotten over it, so had she.

And Ron was so turned on – he hadn’t shown this much passion, since… ever. Ever since she had
relented, Ron had been kissing her, hugging her and showering her with affection. And that made
Hermione feel sexy – an emotion she rarely experienced.

“Please…” Ron gasped, letting go of her, “Please stand up.”

Hermione stood up and smiled sultrily at Ron.

“I want you ready for him,” Ron said, “Please…”

Hermione shrugged and took off her shirt and jeans, posing in front of Ron in her lingerie. She
saw the tent in Ron’s trousers and smirked. She then took off her bra and panties with swift
moves. She wasn’t quite aroused yet, but she supposed she could give her boyfriend a show. She
spread her hands out on each side and tilted her hip to one side, posing in front of Ron.

And that was the scene to which Harry Potter walked in as he burst into Ron’s room.

***

Well, Harry thought wryly, there’s something you don’t see every day.

Hermione Granger completely naked, her hands spread out on either side. Harry gaped, and then
closed his eyes – but he knew he wasn’t likely to forget the sight anytime soon. He started
walking backwards out of the room, crying out, “Sorry guys, didn’t mean to walk in on this!”

But then the door slammed shut behind him. He opened his eyes with a start and saw that Ron had
his wand out and pointed to the door. The lanky redhead then lowered his wand and leaned
further back on his single bed.

Hermione was posing in between the two single beds in the room. Harry looked between Ron and
Hermione, completely confused by this turn of events. Ron was staring at him expectantly, as if
waiting for him to make a move, and Hermione still had her hands spread out, though she was
looking down and biting her lips oh-so-sexily.

And then it all clicked.

Harry’s eyes snapped to Ron’s. “You sure about this?” Harry asked sharply.

Ron nodded, though he did gulp a bit.

Harry crowed inwardly. Holy crap, this is the perfect send-off gift, Harry thought happily, Thank
you, Ginny!

Everything made sense now – Ron’s behavior since Ginny told him about Harry and his mom,
Hermione’s catty comments during the past week, the constant arguments Ron, Hermione and
Ginny had when they thought they were out of Harry’s earshot. It all comes together.
Ron’s just like his dear old father, Harry thought wryly as his magic sang and thrummed around
him. Not that he was complaining.

The room blurred in his vision – Ron, the beds, the Chudley Cannons posters, the Martin Miggs
comics… they all fell away as Hermione sharpened into focus. As he gazed upon her glorious
form, Harry felt like he needed this woman. He wanted her.

He had always thought Hermione was an incredibly beautiful woman. In many ways, she was the
complete physical opposite of Molly (and Ginny). She was incredibly petite as opposed to the
voluptuous bodies of the Weasley women. She had incredibly perky breasts, but they weren’t
even close to the enormous milkbags that Molly or Ginny possessed (though Ginny was at least a
cup size smaller than her mother). Hermione had a very pretty ass – toned and bubbly – but again,
not quite the fat, wide assmeat that Molly and Ginny lugged around.

“Hermione,” Harry said, “Look at me.”

She obeyed, albeit very, very hesitantly. Oh, Harry thought, I’m going to ruin her.

Even Hermione’s beautiful flower was different. Where Molly and Ginny had folds – amazing
flaps that seemed to hug him as he speared their quivering cunts – Hermione had lips – shy, taut,
soft rims that quivered with nervous energy. Even with Hermione’s legs closed, Harry could make
out that her vagina would be incredibly tight. His eyes rove down her toned, surprisingly athletic
legs and then snapped up again to her face.

And that’s what truly sets her apart, Harry thought, she’s… beautiful.

Indeed, Hermione possibly had the prettiest face in his year at Hogwarts - with perhaps just
Parvati for competition. She could stand next to Fleur and not feel even a bit lesser. A cute nose.
Wide, warm eyes. Thin lips that he knew looked amazing when she bit down on her quill
pondering over her homework. A delicate, fragile chin. High cheekbones. God, she’s incredible.
And Ron’s a moron for letting this fall into my hands.

And with that condescending thought, Harry just surged forward, dropping off an article of his
clothing with each step, losing his boxers last just as he pressed his lips onto a very surprised
Hermione. She yelped into his mouth in surprise as he grabbed her ass, lifted her (she’s so light!)
and pushed her into the wall between the beds, right onto a Chudley Cannon’s poster.

***

Hermione gasped as Harry pinched her arse with both hands and simply lifted her into the air like
she weighed nothing. She barely even had time to take in that godlike figure (when had Harry
gotten so hot?) before he closed in on her lips and his tongue was practically dueling hers. She
grabbed onto his upper arms, her heart fluttering as she gripped his massive biceps, feeling the
muscles ripple underneath.

God, he can kiss, she thought as his tongue thoroughly violated her mouth, her own tongue
surrendering meekly as his swirled around hers. And then Harry’s hands, still on her arse,
squeezed and she moaned into his mouth again. Harry pushed up at her ass and her mouth pulled
off his. She gasped at the intensity of his kiss and at the abrupt manner in which it had been cut
off. She just rose and rose into the air by the strength of his hands, like a goddess being worshiped
by her god. Dimly, she registered her boyfriend in the background furiously masturbating at the
sight of her being dominated by Harry, but she didn’t particularly care. She just wanted those
incredible lips on her again.

And then she gasped as she felt her suck briefly at her nipple, before pushing her even higher up
against the wall. And just as she was high enough for her legs to be draped over his shoulders, his
face right in her muff, she knew exactly what Harry was going for.

Ron and I never got around to trying that, she thought idly.

“A pity I’ve barely got an hour Hermione,” Harry growled at her, cutting off her line of thought,
and she shuddered at his husky voice in the vicinity of her aroused pussy, “I could this pussy for
hours.”

Hermione shuddered again. “Unfortunately,” Harry continued in the same intense voice, “I’m
going to have to speed this up.”

And then, without warning, he dove right in. Hermione let out a squeak as he just slammed his
tongue right down her pussy (it’s so long!) and curled this way and that, like it was searching for
something important. She moaned at the ceiling, her back still supported by the wall as his tongue
dug around her insides – and then it landed on…

“Oh, oh, oh, OH OHHHHHH!” Hermione screamed as his tongue landed on that spot. And she
gaped down at Harry’s head and gushed at the sight of his messy black hair just buried into her
snatch. It looked like he was lapping hungrily at a delicate chalice, his hands grabbing her ass and
plunging her cunt onto her mouth… and it felt incredible. And that was when his tongue started
vibrating.

Hermione curled her fingers into his messy hair (god, she loved running her fingers through it)
and she writhed in pleasure, her eyes closed and she felt something incredible build up. Her
vagina was gushing fluid now and judging by the sound Harry was making, she was wet. She had
never been this wet before and then, she saw spots as her entire body spasmed and shuddered and
quivered.

Oh my God, Hermione thought as her vision blurred and she leaned forward off the wall, her
fingers digging into Harry’s skull, I’m having an orgasm. I’m… having… an… orgasm. My first…
orgasm.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!” Hermione screamed, her eyes tearing up. She hadn’t known pleasure like
this even existed.

She dimly registered Harry slowly bringing her down and she eventually felt her rump settle down
on a cylindrical bar. She squirmed against the bar, rubbing back and forth as Harry just looked at
her. Despite herself, she forced her eyes wide open and looked back at him

And all she saw was admiration and awe. He was looking at her moving in the throes of passion
like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and she moaned at him as she squirmed
even harder on the fat rod he had set her down on (What am I sitting on anyway, Hermione
thought). Her inner walls kept shuddering periodically as she slowly ground herself down – her
clitoris was throbbing as it rubbed so pleasurably against her seat and her cunt was leaking onto
the ground.

“Liked that, did we?” Harry asked softly.

“I…” Hermione gasped, “I think… ovaries… exploded.”

Harry choked out a laugh in surprise and she smiled weakly at him, still grinding herself down.
She arched her back as she strove to come down from her high and her nipples stood stiff and
proud on her perky tits.

“Need… more,” she gasped, “Please.”

Harry obliged. And he grabbed her ass again and lifted. She felt the massive pole she had been
sitting on shift and curl up against her throbbing cunt. Harry bent backward and then pushed up.
And just as the curvy, dome of the mysterious bar pushed into her gushing pussy, squashing her
clitoris and starting up her orgasm again, she realized what she had been sitting on all this time.

No way, she thought, that’s his… his thing? She actually hadn’t seen Harry’s penis yet – he had
tackled her to the wall before she even got a good look at him.

She was pressed into the wall now; her toes were entire inches off the ground – had been, for
quite some time, since Harry got his hands on her arse – and her hands were pressed against the
wall. Her legs were spread wide on either side, branching out into an upside-down “V”. And
Harry’s cock was trying desperately to push into her miniscule twat that was leaking fluids down
his enormous shaft – pussy juices that then dribbled all the way down and eventually rolling off
his massive balls onto the ground. Hermione realized with a start that apart from Ron’s tiny
pecker, nothing else had been up there. She had been far too timid to even try getting herself off
before.

And then she looked down at Harry’s rod and just gaped stupidly. It was enormous – just going
on and on from her quivering cunt to Harry midriff, at the end of that amazing V-shaped cut that
jutted around his incredibly defined abs. It’s like a muscly arrow, she thought with a giggle,
saying, “Here comes the wife-tamer!”

And then he pushed some more. “Fuck!” Harry swore, “You’re so tight!”

“No,” Hermione choked, and swore right back, “You’re fucking big.”

Harry laughed. “You shouldn’t swear, Hermione,” he said and then jerked forward just as
Hermione floundered for a retort and she screamed again as his enormous head burst into her tiny
twat, stretching it like it had never been stretched before.

And then, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, to Harry’s incredible frustration, his shaft sank into
her tight love tunnel. It was gushing obscenely, fluids still dripping down his shaft. And if he
thought Ginny’s insides hugged him so tightly when he made love to her, Hermione’s walls were
practically trying to choke his dick until it drowned in a squirming, writhing, wet pit of ecstasy.

And after nearly five minutes of pushing and writhing and panting and groaning, there was still an
inch of Harry’s penis still to go. Harry couldn’t take it anymore – his brain, both the one in his
head and the other one in his other head (nestled safely in the depths of Hermione’s impossibly
tight cunt) were screaming at him to just slam into her – and he just gave one last titanic push.
Hermione slammed into his hips and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she turned her face
heavenwards in pleasure. She was sitting on his balls now, which were throbbing against her pert
bottom.

Now, buried completely in her pussy, Harry tried to move, but he found that her vagina was
holding his penis in a vice-grip. He literally pulled her down with him as he tried to pull out and
Hermione whined.

“Your cunt is less elastic than I thought, Hermione,” Harry observed.

A spot of drool dribbled down Hermione’s wide open mouth. She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t
speak, she could moan. She was caught in a frozen moment filled with immense pleasure – she
had never really come down from her first orgasm, and as Harry jerked back and forth, jerking her
back and forth in turn, her quim fluttered around his enormous shaft and she just went from
orgasm to orgasm – or perhaps it was one giant orgasm, just moving between highs and lows.
“What do you think is the modulus of elasticity of your twat, Little Miss Know-It-All?” Harry
taunted, remember the Transfiguration class where McGonagall had taught them how to
transfigure metals to plastics.

Hermione groaned and finally managed to speak, as Harry kept moving, apparently trying to
unscrew his cock out of her grip as he twisted back and forth, stretching and twining her
incredibly wet walls around his fat cock. “Don’t… fucking… care,” she grunted.

Harry let out a barking laugh. Then he lifted her off the wall and slammed her into the bed on her
right. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, in a part that was sealed away the moment this
encounter had started, Hermione observed that Ron would have an incredible view of Harry’s fat
cock buried in her cunt with his massive balls throbbing right under her quim.

***

Harry thought Hermione looked incredible, her gorgeous face flushed and her lovely lips open in
a silent scream as she shuddered around his penis. Her walls were practically spasming around his
cock – tremors seemed to rock every inch of her body as he desperately tried to move back and
forth within her.

Her back was arched and her perfect little nipples were straining against her perfect little breasts,
begging for attention. He cupped both of them, squeezed and a high-pitched squeal finally
escaped her open mouth. If he had it his way, Harry thought, he would keep her on this orgasmic
high forever.

“Little Miss Perfect,” he reflected, “You truly are perfect.”

But time was running out and Harry wasn’t in the mood for more of this incredible sight – at this
rate, he could happily keep working over Hermione for ages, but he didn’t have the time.

“Sorry, love,” Harry whispered to Hermione as her glazed eyes pleaded with him, “I’d love to just
stay like this forever. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to move.”

He gripped her tiny waist from both sides and rooted himself, planting his legs even further apart.
This had the additional effect of pushing Hermione’s legs, which were on either side of his waist,
even further apart, giving him some room to move.

And then Harry started moving.

***

Ron’s thighs and bed were spattered with his own semen, but he didn’t care. He had started
cumming when Harry had started spearing that massive thing up his girlfriend’s tight cunt. And
while normally, Ron took hours to recover from such an incredible orgasm, the sight of Harry
trying to move while embedded deep in his girl’s pussy had got him hard again.

And then Harry had pulled Hermione off the wall and thrown her onto the bed like a ragdoll, still
buried in her pussy. And just like Ron’s mom, Hermione was gushing and shuddering. Ron had
never seen her like this before. She was a beautiful wanton angel now, her frazzled hair spread out
on the bed as she gazed up with such adoring eyes at Harry, squirming around his humongous
shaft.

Unfortunately, Harry had thrown Hermione onto the bed opposite Ron, and Ron didn’t have a
clear view of the action now. He was nearing his second orgasm and needed to see this. So he got
up and moved down the aisle to the foot of the bed, gazing at the sexed up couple from the side.
Ron was bent over pathetically, rubbing up and down his prick, panting as his knees shook with
the force of his oncoming orgasm.

And it was an incredible sight. Harry was virtually tearing Hermione’s pussy walls apart as he
grunted and moved up and down, but Hermione just wasn’t letting that enormous cockmeat go.
Her pussy was gushing out juices as she writhed on the bed in heat, her mouth open and her
unseeing eyes staring in Harry’s direction. Her hands were clawing at the bed and her legs were
up in the air, toes curling and uncurling in pleasure.

Suddenly, Harry moved his hands from where he had been mauling Hermione’s tits, down to
either side of her waist. And he gripped it firmly. And then started to move.

Harry grunted and pulled and Hermione moved with him – only, Harry’s hands stopped her
downward motion in its tracks. His veins were bulging out and muscles seemed to grow upon his
muscles as his shaft scraped out of her gushing twat. “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Hermione
screamed.

And then, just as her scream petered out into a moan and Harry’s penis, now shimmering with
Hermione’s apparently endless supply of cunt-juice, was almost out of her quim, he slammed
back, brutally. Hermione’s scream rose to a fervent pitch again. Ron was beating himself off
furiously now as Harry started pulling out slowly and then slamming back in rapidly several times
over. He gulped as he saw Hermione’s trim abdomen swell as Harry pushed in – almost like a
tight glove swells when you squeeze your fingers in – and then contract as Harry teased out. He
could practically see the cylindrical swell of Harry’s cock reshape her inner walls as he plowed in
and then allow them to try and regain their former tightness as he pulled out. Hermione’s scream
was one continuous, long whine now – growing suddenly in pitch as he smashed into her hips and
then steadily decreasing in pitch as he retreated.

And then, even as he started increasing the pace, Harry took his hands off Hermione’s hips
momentarily, grabbed her legs and pushed them up and around his front so that her legs were
pointing up at the ceiling, resting on either side of his head along his chest, giving him unfettered
access to her pussy.

Then with his hands right around the base of her thighs, Harry truly started fucking her. He started
smashing in and out of her, rapidly increasing his pace to a fever pitch and Hermione just
screamed and screamed. Her eyes, which had previously been glazed, were now actually rolling
up into the back of her skull and her breasts were swinging back and forth wildly. Harry
pulverized her pussy – it was like his cock was tearing apart her walls and rebuilding them anew
to forever fit his (and only his) enormous meat. Ron heard, rather than saw, the smack-smack-
smack of his enormous testicles slapping against Hermione’s tight arse.

“Look at the virgin of Gryffindor!” Harry taunted as he pounded in and out of her, “Nothing but a
slut begging for cock!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!” Hermione continued to scream, spittle

flying out of her mouth and foam spouting at her lips.

“The Golden Girl!” Harry taunted again, “McGonagalls favorite little helper! Look at you!”

The sheets actually tore as Hermione scraped at them, her hands… her entire body writhing in the
grip of a pleasure that Ron had never seen on her before.

It sounds like he’s scraping against wet sandpaper, Ron thought as he neared his release, Her
tight cunt will never be tight again. He’s destroying it! Harry’s destroying my girl’s tight cunt!
Ron’s pace grew faster and faster as he neared completion.
And as if echoing his thoughts, Hermione screamed, “NNNNNN…. MY CUNT! FUCK MY
CUNT! NEVER… SAME… AGAIN… FUCK!”

“Almost there, babe,” Harry said serenely as he plopped his penis out with a mighty pull. It
popped out with a loud plop and her lips clinging to it as if her twat just didn’t want to let its new
owner go.

Harry let go of her legs as he retreated. She continued to moan and shudder and Ron saw with a
start that an enormous puddle had accumulated on the bed underneath her. She was sweating and
cumming and it was all mixing underneath her – Ron would forever remember that bed as the
place where Harry had conquered Ron’s first girlfriend. Hermione’s legs flopped uselessly to the
ground. And she was still cumming – she was lost to the world. Harry stepped around Hermione,
still rubbing his shaft (fuck, Ron thought, even his own hand doesn’t fit around his shaft). And as
Ron gaped and jerked off at the foot of the bed where his best friend had thoroughly shagged his
girlfriend, Harry skipped onto the bed, planted his legs on either side of Hermione and knelt over
her, while not quite sitting down atop her. His massive balls plopped onto her tummy as Harry
sandwiched his cock in her cleavage. He then reached down with both hands behind her head and
pulled her face upward, which had been lying down and flushing beautifully with the force of her
orgasm, so that his massive head pushed right between her lips.

Harry was feeding his cock to her, literally stuffing his cock down her mouth. In her orgasmic
haze, Hermione still managed to take his massive purple crown into her mouth – she couldn’t
seem to fight anymore and the rest of Harry’s shaft still lay outside down her throat, between her
cleavage and right up to her stomach - but she wasn’t cognizant enough to actually give it any
attention. Ron couldn’t take it anymore – incredibly, he came for the second time that evening,
within minutes of his previous orgasm. Drops of semen leaked out of his cock, spreading over his
own fist.

And then, Harry spurted. His balls, which were sitting all the way down on his tummy, pulsed
and just continued to pulse. And his shaft seemed to recoil like a cannon several times as he fired
what seemed to be liters of his cum down Hermione’s mouth. She could not swallow, still in a
daze, and gurgled; streams of his cum foamed at her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

After nearly an entire minute and a half, where Harry just grunted and fed Hermione his sperm, he
finally popped his cockhead out of Hermione’s mouth and slapped it twice against her chin to
shake any remaining semen off. He briskly stood up and then methodically put on his clothes, one
piece after the other.

Ron collapsed onto the bed beside Hermione, panting like he’d run a marathon. She was literally
blubbering out Harry’s sperm as she lay there, dazed and still feeling her orgasm wind down.

“Bye, guys,” Harry said brightly, “Guess I have to go. Ron, tell Hermione this was just a sampler.
If you want, I’ll give her the real deal after I come back.”

And then Harry checked his watch, nodded to himself, then winked at both of them and stalked
out of the room, singing a jaunty tune.

And as Ron started snoring beside his thoroughly satisfied girlfriend, he only had one refrain
running through his head – I want an encore.

***

Two months later

Harry was trudging through a meadow. He knew it looked absolutely beautiful and the grass
looked absolutely beautiful in the cold blue light of early dawn, just before the sun had peeks over
the horizon. And yet, he was trudging as opposed to hiking because he felt that the term “hiking”
was something a happy person would use.

And he knew the tall, red-haired curse-breaker walking next to him felt exactly the same way. Bill
Weasley had apparently promised his family that he’d be home for Christmas Dinner after a five-
day mission with Gringotts and so had Harry. Only, the five-day mission had turned to a week
and then a month. And now, it was two months.

Apparently, a bunch of French Ministry officials had decided that they would get their hands on
an age-old heirloom that belonged to their country. It had been stolen from them by Voldemort to
ally the giants with him. So, as part of an attempt to make peace with the French (for the French
blamed the British since the Dark Lord actually was the British Ministry for nearly a year), the
British Minister of Magic had offered to assist in their search for this stolen heirloom. Only, the
French had outright refused (because politicking, Harry thought tiredly) and Gringotts had
intervened, saying that they would be happy to provide one of their best Cursebreakers for the
mission, who was incidentally English. The French agreed because Gringotts was a popular third-
party organization and the British Ministry was appeased because Gringotts was offering an
Englishman up for the mission (along with their famous Boy-Who-Lived, albeit as an intern) and
Gringotts was happy, because they were being paid by both the French and the English. Thus, this
entire dog-and-pony show had begun.

And it was supposed to be a simple mission – the French Ministry had received word that this
heirloom was at Riddle Manor; a team of five French Aurors as well as Bill, with Harry’s help
would comb the house and break any wards or curses that still persevered. And then everyone
would pose for a photograph and bold headlines would be published on either side of the Channel
that declared that a contingent of French Aurors had recovered an age-old heirloom with the help
of two British nationals, one of whom was quite famous. And everyone would be happy.

And so they had burst into Riddle Manor, combed it for five days, then for a week. And they had
found nothing. Oh, they had discovered wards and curses and Harry had learned a lot by
watching Bill break those down. But at the end of the day, the heirloom was still missing.

And so, they had skipped Christmas, and then New Year, and here they were, in the middle of
February, on this globe-trotting adventure, still going around in search of the heirloom.

Although, while the whole thing caused no end of frustration to Harry (the kind of adventure he
craved – the one with battle - was just not there), he supposed it did score as a win - primarily
because, while Bill had taught him a lot about breaking down wards and setting them up, Harry
had discovered something even more spectacular.

There had been plenty of opportunities for experimenting with the Elder Wand. Harry’s head
swam at the number of European magical villages and cities they had been around. He was truly
touring the magical world now, and it was spectacular. But that wasn’t even the best part – while
the French Aurors walked around, knocking down doors, asking questions, persuading informants
with galleons and searching desperately for their national heirloom, Harry had been busy seeing
what the ancient wand could teach him.

And teach him, it did. One day, as he was practicing his Occlumency exercises and clearing his
mind, when he felt an insistent poking against his senses and he knew it was the Deathstick. So he
opened his mind to the sensation and traced it back to the wand; the flurry of images had startled
him. The Deathstick did not quite speak to him so much as it showed him. The Elder Wand had
memories – that was its greatest secret and Harry felt privileged to have discovered it. He knew
every wand had a memory – Ollivander had implied that much in that gloomy cell at Malfoy
Manor. But the Elder Wand was so powerful that it remembered so much more. Spells, charms,
curses – they just played themselves out in his mind and he just knew what to do. And so, he and
the Elder Wand had begun to form a bond, where it taught him by showing him deep and ancient
magic, and he practiced whenever he found time, which was often.

Not that he was not interacting with the team. The French Aurors did not have much to teach him
by way of defensive or offensive magic (not as much as the Elder Wand anyway), but they did
teach him other things – the most valuable being spell creation. For the first time, Harry was truly,
instinctively, understanding how spells are created, how they could be modified and extended and
altered.

At the same time, the blood pounded in his head as his wand chastised him for not using any of
the awe-inspiring knowledge it gave him on battle magic. He had blasted plenty of conjured
dummies apart on isolated moors, but where was the real blood he needed to grow? Where was
the thrill?

And somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry knew he shouldn’t think this way, he wouldn’t
have thought this way only a year ago. Yet, here he was.

“Uh, Harry,” Bill said, interrupting his flow of thoughts as they converged on a small hillock in
the middle of the meadow they were trudging across. Apparently, the French Aurors knew pour
sûr that this was the place the heirloom was stored (yeah, Harry thought snidely, they’ve said that
before). “You thought about that… stuff we talked about?”

Harry sighed. Yeah, he thought, that’s a great topic to bring up just as they were converging on
their objective. “Are you sure you’ve cleared it with Ginny?” Harry asked.

Bill just looked askance at him and said, “Of course I have. I told you I sent her a letter and subtly
asked her about it. She replied with an oblique yes.”

Truth be told, Ginny’s acceptance or rejection didn’t even bother him anymore. Apparently, Ron
had confided in George about the whole thing with Harry and Molly (although, Ron did send him
a letter saying he hadn’t said a word about him and Hermione to anyone and wanted to keep it that
way) and George had told Bill. And now, according to Bill, every Weasley male knew Harry had
jumped into bed with their mother once (or twice, Harry thought, though the Weasleys didn’t
know that). Great.

And the weird part was - they didn’t care. There were no confrontations, which went against
everything Harry had known, or thought he had known, about the Weasleys. And worse, Ron and
Bill had asked him to do their significant other.

And Bill was married. Granted, Harry supposed he should’ve thought that about Molly and
Arthur, but at least the Weasley parents had been married for decades before doing this sort of
stuff. Bill had a quarter-veela hanging onto his arms for maybe three years at best, and he was
already pushing her at Harry. This was all wrong. And Harry, even a year ago, would have run
far, far away from this.

And that was what niggled at him, though even that niggling guilt was dying now. Harry knew he
would bang Fleur in an instant (god, she was so hot), so the nonchalance he showed Bill was
mostly just a veil – he was being moral for the sake of being moral and keeping up appearances in
polite company.

But now, he didn’t want to think about that because he was stuck on a boring mission. And
thinking about Bill’s incredibly hot wife would lead to thoughts of sex and then, of thoughts of
other associated emotions and then he would be frustrated all over again. So he concentrated on
the hillock – not so small now that they were practically twenty feet away from its base – that was
glowing ethereal and blue-green in the false sunlight just before dawn.

They had chosen to walk in, as opposed to fly in on brooms, because they needed to check for
traps and curses. That had been a waste though, because there had been no traps or curses of any
sort. However, their primary concern had not been dark wizards or wards, but the possibility of
meeting giants. For the meadow and the hillock as well as the surrounding forests and mountains
were part of a large sanctuary established in the 1100s by the ICW for giants. This was the
stomping ground of giants, which was absolutely worrisome.

The heirloom they were searching for was an ancient chalice – a giant’s chalice, rumored to give
any giant that drank water from it strength equal to that of ten giants. It had been created long,
long ago by a French witch whose name was lost to time for her giant husband (Harry just had to
smirk at that possibility) and it had immediately been confiscated by the Gaul elders at the time.
Ever since then, the giants had tried to get their hands on this artifact and now, it was rumored to
be sitting right in the middle of their territory. Oh Riddle, Harry thought, How appropriate of you
to put the artifact the giants want right in the middle of them and then withhold it from them. Your
hubris was indeed incredible.

And now that they had approached the hillock, Harry truly felt it. The hillock was, strangely
enough, a mountain of hard, bare stone – a massive dome with no apparent entrance. It was
perfectly smooth and Harry knew this was no natural hill formed by corrosion and quakes; this
had been forged by someone for hiding something truly remarkable. And Harry could feel the
powerful magic reverberating around the place. They had felt it even from a hundred feet out –
Bill told him it was the scent of a failed Fidelius Charm that Bill thought had fallen into decay
months ago when Harry had defeated Voldemort. And they had approached it at a fortunate time
– any earlier and the Fidelius would still have been too strong for them to breach it.

They had now drawn right up to the enormous stone construct – it must have been at least a
hundred feet high and Harry couldn’t even tell how wide it was. One of the aurors sent a spell at
the construct and the spell bounced back with a clang. “It’s hollow,” breathed one of the aurors as
she gazed upon the stone hill with wonder, “It’s a chamber.”

Bill, who had bent down to inspect the base of the hill said, “And it’s not dug in. It’s practically
sitting on the ground. I reckon we might be able to lift it with a team of a few dozen wizards and
simple levitation charms.”

Harry gaped. The enormous hill was basically a giant lid purportedly concealing the chalice, like a
butler covering up a dish on a serving tray with a platter dome. Magic-users are so weird, Harry
thought. And then it hit him. “A team of several dozen wizards and levitation charms,” Harry said,
touching the cold, smooth surface of the dome, “Or ten giants with their bare hands. Like in the
legend.”

One of the French aurors - a woman with long, black hair that was bunched into braids - laughed.
“Oui,” she chortled, “Appropriate.”

And that was when they heard the sound they had all feared (and craved, Harry thought guiltily).
Boom boom boom. The thudding sound of enormous footfalls on the ground. They all turned in a
flash and gazed into the gloom, which was rapidly falling away as the sun rose. At least five
hundred feet away from them was the dark line of the forest that bordered the meadow. Rising out
of the forest were enormous shapes that loomed large in the light of rising dawn. Harry tried to
count the shapes, but before he could even get to the third silhouette, one of the French aurors
shrieked, “It’s a whole tribe!”

Oh crap, Harry thought. Dimly, he remembered a Binns lecture on how a giant tribe consisted of
at least sixty individuals. And Harry’s heart thumped into his chest in rhythm with the footfalls of
the enormous shadows lurking in the distance, fast approaching their position.

And just as the sun rose over the horizon, orange light washing away the blue, Harry truly saw
them. They were at least twenty feet tall each and there were dozens of them all sprinting full tilt
with enormous clubs straight at the dome. Straight at them.

The giants had arrived to reclaim their heirloom.

***
 Warrior, Part 3
Chapter Notes

A bit of a cliche here, with Gabrielle's not-quite-nine thing, but roll with it.

France, two weeks before Harry Potter met the giants

Gabrielle Delacour was immensely disappointed with herself. She prided herself on being the best
daughter she could be, the best student she could be and the level of control she exerted over her
demeanor at all times. Where her sister was fierce and passionate, she was calm and controlled.
Where her sister was swept away by short-lived romantic affairs, she had never been distracted
from her education.

That said, Gabrielle did think the world of her sister and she knew her sister loved her too.
Gabrielle could not help but think, though, that her sister had spent most of her teenage years
living a tumultuous life that went from high to low and relationship to relationship. That is, of
course, until her sister left school and met a handsome older man – a curse breaker at Gringotts –
and just decided to get hitched. Gabrielle thought herself above such whimsical desires.

Gabrielle knew control and discipline – she had always been a quiet, calm little child. She was
prone to childish fancies, of course, but that did not mean she did not know how to hold herself
back. The need for control had been drilled into her since childhood.

Then, Gabrielle thought, why am I so unable to master such simple magic?

“Maman,” she said crossly in French, “Why can't I do this?”

Her grandmother tutted and her mother merely smiled at her. Gabrielle gritted her teeth at that.

“Try, again,” her grandmother commanded.

And Gabrielle tried. She closed her eyes, scrunched up her face and concentrated. She tried to
focus like they wanted her to and tried to draw the warm feeling of the whizzing aura that
whipped around her, drew it in and willed it to change shape.

After ten minutes of desperately trying to reel in her aura into the shape that she wanted, Gabrielle
just gave up and opened her eyes. Her grandmother sighed and the two women in front of her got
up.

“Let us call it a day,” Apolline said mildly. “No,” Gabrielle said, “I shall keep trying until I get
this.”

***

Somewhere in Germany, two weeks before Harry Potter met the giants

“Wait… what?” Harry asked Bill as they both took a rest from breaking down the ward on an
erstwhile Death Eater safe-house in a ruined cottage.

“Veela basically clone themselves to breed pure,” Bill said patiently, “They are capable of just
forcing their eggs to grow into a fetus.”

Harry scratched his head. “And you said half-veela retain this ability?”

Bill nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “Well, not quite. Only full veela are capable of giving birth to other
full veela through cloning. But both full and half-veela are capable of giving birth to full veela
through cross-fertilization with other full or half-veela.”

“What? Cross-fertilization?”

“Yeah,” Bill said, making a sour face, “Fleur told me about it. Apparently, veela can inject their
genetic material into other veela and fertilize them.”

Harry was confused. “Inject?” Harry repeated, and then asked, “Like… with a syringe?”

Bill shrugged. “Fleur just said veela are capable of growing some kind of protuberance that can
inject stuff into other veela. They’re not injecting sperm or anything – just some kind of genetic
material that fuses with the veela they inject it into.”

“And what about half-veela?” Harry prompted.

“Half-veela, like Fleur’s mom, are strange. Fleur told me that half-veela are capable of accessing
both their veela sides and their human sides – although, neither side comes instinctively to them.
They can clone themselves just like true veela, but they can also use magic, like normal witches.
And they can cross-fertilize too.

“And if they cross-breed with true veela, the offspring is again, a true veela. It’s all very strange.”

“So… Gabrielle?” Harry asked, “She’s… what, exactly?”

“Oh, Gabrielle is basically the result of Apolline cloning herself. From what Fleur tells me,
Apolline and Jean had quite a few arguments about having a second child. Jean put his foot down
though, so Apolline got mad and just willed one of her eggs to grow. So Gabrielle was born.
When half-veela clone themselves, they give birth to half-veela too, since they’re basically just
clones.”

“So Gabrielle is basically just Apolline’s clone?”

“Exactly.”

“But Fleur…”

“Is a true quarter-veela, which doesn’t really mean anything. Oh, Fleur does have a slight aura, but
it’s nothing compared to Apolline or Gabrielle. And no weird protuberances or anything –
perfectly feminine, Harry,” Bill said, waggling his eyebrows.

Harry just shook his head.

“So…” Bill said, but Harry stopped him. I do NOT want to go there, Harry thought, not the weird
Weasley male thing again.

“So Gabrielle is… how old, exactly?” Harry asked.

“She was actually born only two years after you were,” Bill replied. “Veela go through puberty a
lot slower than we do, but when they do hit it, boy do they hit it and hard.”

“Ten on ten, eh?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Ten on ten, eh?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Eleven on ten,” Bill said with a mischievous smile, his scars growing prominent as his skin
stretched around his face, “If she wasn’t my sister-in-law…”

Harry just grinned.

“Nah,” Bill said, “Who am I kidding? I can’t even handle Fleur, let alone a proper veela.”

“Half-veela,” Harry reminded him.

“No real difference,” Bill said, “Gabriella and Apolline are both veela and human at once. They
have the best of both worlds – the ability to work a wand and the ability to blow your socks off
with that aura.”

“Work your wand, eh?” Harry asked lasciviously.

“Oh, shut it,” Bill said, though his tone was mirthful.

“So does that mean your mother-in-law and your sister-in-law both turn into harpies whenever
you annoy them?” Harry chided.

Bill shuddered. “Yeah, well,” Bill said, “That’s one of the abilities they have to learn. Apolline
and Fleur’s Grand-Mere – a full veela – are teaching Gabrielle how to transform.”

“So Beauxbatons is closed now?”

“Nah, the school is open – Apolline is the Charms Mistress.”

“I bet she is.”

“You’re such a cad.”

Harry laughed.

“Anyway,” Bill continued, “Apolline and her mum are giving Gabrielle lessons on transformation
after her classes every day. If you think Fleur turns people’s heads… wait till you see Gabrielle.”

Harry snickered. “Bet that doesn’t go over well with the wife,” Harry said.

“Which is why you’re tagging along next time,” Bill said.

Oh crap, we’re back to that topic again.

And as if on cue, Bill asked Harry that stupid question again. Harry just sighed. Stop asking me to
bang your hot wife, you idiot. Because I totally will.

***

France, just as Harry encountered the giants

“Gabrielle!” her grandmother’s melodious voice screeched at her, “Do it! Now!”

And then her grandmother slapped her across the face. Gabrielle flushed and scrunched up her
face in concentration.

“The predator within you begs to be unleashed!” her grandmother said, “But to be unleashed, it
must first be unchained by emotion. The most powerful being anger. Let your anger flow!”
And then Grand Mere slapped her again. Gabrielle gritted her teeth and her muscles tensed in
anger.

***

Somewhere in a meadow in France, Harry met the giants

Harry gritted his teeth and his muscles tensed in joy.

Oh yes, he gloated, exactly what I’ve been waiting for.

The Elder Wand was singing in his mind now, his heart pounding like a drum against his chest.
Harry Potter was elated. The French Aurors threw out spells as they shrank against the wand, Bill
tried to conjure a wall to halt the stampede of the giants, but Harry just grinned and got ready.

His magic hummed and sang and hungered.

***

Gabrielle’s aura sang a harmonious melody around her. She tried to unleash it, concentrating her
anger upon her magic, but nothing happened. Her aura felt like it was blocked.

She felt her Grand Mere slap her again – and tears fell down Gabrielle’s cheeks.

She wasn’t even getting angry now – she was feeling intimidated.

***

Harry zoned in on the largest of the giants, who was conveniently at the forefront of the pack
charging at them. The giant wore an enormous wooden laurel on his head and was obviously the
leader of the tribe.

Good, Harry thought, you’re first.

The giant, who had to be at least twenty seven feet tall, raised the massive club he was clutching
into the air just as he got within sixty feet of them.

And that was when Harry decided to throw caution to the wind and charged right back at the
giants.

***

Apolline Delacour watched with immense worry from the corner as her own mother slapped her
daughter and tried to induce her to transform. Apolline herself had learned through just such a
technique, and her mother was right – emotion was the easiest way to try and unleash the aura, but
something about this entire situation felt wrong.

This would have been so much easier if Fleur was a half-veela instead of Gabrielle, Apolline
thought. Because Fleur had so much of the willful, stubborn, untamed stereotypical nature that
Veela were usually painted with. Fleur was the apple of her husband’s eye – he bestowed every
luxury upon her and had lavished her with attention ever since she was born.

Gabrielle, on the other hand, was something Jean had considered a mistake. He had been
embarrassed when Gabrielle had been born; he had played no part in her conception, and while
Jean had not been overly hostile to Gabrielle, he was always so dismissive when she was around.
She was considered Apolline’s daughter rather than their daughter and Apolline knew Gabrielle
had noticed such things.

As such, her youngest daughter had become meek, learning to draw in her presence and keep
herself out of sight. Unfortunately for Gabrielle, she was a half-veela, and there was only so much
control one could exert over one’s natural attractiveness – not to mention the veela aura. Gabrielle
had been a very beautiful girl and was now maturing into a remarkably beautiful half-veela.

However, Gabrielle had noticed how her aura drew attention and had taught herself to exert tight
control over what part of it she could harness. And now, when Gabrielle needed to let go, her
daughter found herself completely unable, after having exerted such control over her every
emotion for so many years.

For the transformation was all about finding utter freedom – of letting your spirit go and
surrendering yourself to your emotions. Tapping into your bestial self. And Gabrielle, bless her
soul, was an extraordinary child in many ways – but she always thought about what others would
think if she did this, what her father would notice if she did that and so on and so forth. She was a
tightly wound ball that simply would not relax and just let go. Even when Gabrielle had fun, like
at Fleur’s wedding, it was with such impeccable calm that Apolline almost wished Gabrielle
would throw a tantrum or two every once in a while.

At the end of the day, Gabrielle Delacour simply did not know how to let go.

***

Bill had barely finished conjuring his wall when the giants were almost upon it. Painstakingly, Bill
had started conjuring bricks, lacing them with sticking charms and them placing them above each
other. Eventually the French aurors had caught on and tried to help him by conjuring enormous
slabs of stone and placing them atop his own meager wall. And Bill knew it was a stupid strategy,
but his mind was just frozen now.

He was a cursebreaker, not an auror. He belonged in tombs and catacombs, methodically breaking
down complex wards and curses, not in situations like these, facing an entire giant tribe at once.
And with a sinking heart, Bill realized that he was going to die. He was actually going to die – he
did not see any way out of this. He stopped conjuring and just cowered.

And that was when he felt the air churn around him, as if buffeted by an enormous force.

The wind whipped about in frenzy and one of the French aurors shrieked. Bill looked up and felt
a blanket of power settle upon him. It rose and sang and hummed with magic. He followed the
power to its source and saw that it was all concentrated on a single man.

Harry Potter stood alone, facing the giants, eyes blazing and back straight, with a grin on his face
like he was dropping in on an amazing party. And then he charged.

“No!” Bill said, just as the French aurors screamed, “Non!”

Is he mad?

Harry charged straight at the pathetic wall they had conjured to protect themselves against the
giants and just tore through it like paper. The wall crumpled as Harry charged straight through it.
The giant at the forefront of the stampede – the biggest and meanest looking giant Bill had ever
seen – was barely forty feet away.

And that was when Harry flew. At first, Bill thought he was leaping into the air, but Harry was
actually flying into the air in a steep arc. Without a broom. In an incredible parabolic arc, Harry
rose into the sky like an avenging angel, his green eyes raging with a bloodlust Bill had never seen
before and his face contorted into a wild smile. The giant stopped in his tracks and brought his
enormous club down onto Harry, as if to swat him like a gnat, but Harry whipped his wand
around in mid-air and the club turned to dust.

Where did that wand even come from? It practically popped out of thin air!

And then he saw Harry clear the dust and reach the peak of his parabola, only to descend like
stone, his feet pointing straight into the giant’s face. Bill heard a deafening crack, like a tree had
snapped, and the giant howled as Harry smashed feet first into the giant’s nose.

Holy shit. Harry just broke a giant’s nose by kicking him in the face.

***

Gabrielle’s concentration was slipping. She felt absolutely wretched. Her grandmother had once
called this “incredibly simple stuff”, but she simply couldn’t seem to learn this. Gabrielle would be
lying to herself if she said she wasn’t talented – she knew she was talented. She had perfect scores
in her classes, had kept her aura under such tight control almost intuitively from an incredibly
young age, had not had a bout of uncontrolled magic since she had been four (her last burst had
broken her father’s favorite tea set with a burst of magic. Oh the scolding her father had given her,
Gabrielle thought). She had never been mad when her father had doted on Fleur and had never
been put off when he was completely cold to her, as he always was – she had taught herself not to
be mad, for that way led despair.

And yet, she could not master this “incredibly simple stuff.” It was absolutely frustrating. And
then she felt her Grand Mere slap her again, which caught her off guard and Gabrielle yelped as
more tears fell down her cheeks.

***

Harry grinned as he anchored a blasting charm to his feet with his wand and smashed the giant’s
nose just as he landed. I love anchoring charms, he thought happily as he pushed off the giant,
somersaulting backward into the air off the giant and landed gracefully on the ground after
dropping more than twenty feet by casting the self-levitation charm he had practiced with the help
of the Elder Wand.

The leader of the giants fell backwards in a graceful curve and landed satisfyingly on his back
with a massive thump, shaking the ground. He was still howling and clutching at his nose. Harry
retreated away from the giant’s legs, which were kicking out in pain, with a smile on his face.

And then he stood tall, looking at the sheer number of other giants that were attempting to swarm
him. He grinned. He knew just the right spell for this occasion.

***

Gabrielle wished she could do this with a simple twirl of her wand and a single spell. But there
was no right spell for veela magic.

For veela magic was instinctive. In her grandmother’s scathing words, “Humans have to learn and
then learn some more – from books and tomes and stupid little words – to be able to cast
controlled magic. But we have it within our very bodies. We use it with each breath. Every male –
be he giant or human turns to mush in its presence – our aura. And magic just comes to us. It’s not
something we seize and control, Gabby. It’s something we learn to let go.”

Let go, Gabrielle thought with frustration. She hated that phrase. Her sister was more the “let go”
sort of person. Letting go to Gabrielle meant being the subject of her father’s glare, or being gazed
at by lecherous slack-jawed men. I will not let go, she thought sadly. I cannot.

***

Bill saw Harry just look at the mass of giants that were about to crush him in seconds, even as
their leader writhed in pain in the middle of the battlefield. And yet, amidst his own terror at the
situation, and concern for Harry, Bill truly recognized exactly why Harry Potter was so famous.

He just had a presence about him, even as he stood alone facing impossible odds with naught but
a tiny wooden stick to defend himself. A presence that Bill knew he was enamored with – which
was why he had asked Harry over and over again to stay at his place so that Harry could fulfill his
strange request.

And then, Bill felt cold. It seemed like all of the warmth in the air was being sucked out – but it
wasn’t like the chill brought on by a dementor. This reeked of a different sort of magic; Bill was
proved right as the air shimmered around Harry and steam rose from the tip of his wand. Harry
was actually drawing upon the warmth around him.

How does he even know this sort of magic?

And then, his wand blazed to life. A glowing, white-hot, spitting ball of fire and light sat in the
palm of Harry’s hand, held in place by his wand. And it grew and grew spitting out sparks and
pulsing in in the fierce blood-red light of early dawn.

Suddenly, Harry whipped his hands out to his sides, spreading them wide apart as if welcoming
the oncoming party of giants and the ball exploded. It spread out in the shape of an enormous
winged bird and the melted down into a long, thin strip of fire on the ground that extended on
either side of Harry for what seemed to be acres.

And as the rest of the giants were twenty feet away – and Bill dimly registered that their fallen
leader was crawling away from Harry, clutching at his nose and looking at the relatively tiny
wizard with fearful eyes – Harry pushed his hands down and then threw them up again. The strip
blazed into an enormous wall of fire, nearly one hundred feet tall and hundreds of feet wide, and
Harry was its focal point – the source of its incredible power.

One of the French aurors had enough presence of mind to mount his broom and ascend to the sky.
“The giants have stopped,” he told them happily, obviously looking over the wall, and then
paused. “They’re just… waiting,” he then said, a tremor of fear shaking his voice.

“Brace yourself!” Bill heard Harry yell back at them. He obeyed – it never occurred to him to do
anything else – and he noticed that the French did too. He hoped the man on the broom held on
for dear life as well, because whatever was coming next would be big.

And he was right. There seemed to be a massive blast right behind them and a shockwave of
compressed air seemed to press outward. Bill and the aurors on the ground were thrown forwards
and the wave of air smashed into the wall of fire. The blazing flame fanned outwards, right at the
giants.

Merlin! This was the sort of magic legends were written about. And here was a boy of barely legal
age, performing such feats like they were nothing.

Then again, Bill thought wryly, he is the Slayer of Voldemort.

“They’re retreating!” a voice said from above. Bill looked up and noted with a relieved sigh that
the man on the broom hadn’t been pushed off by the force of Harry’s magic. “The giants are
retreating!” the man said as he floated down to the ground quite happily.
Bill looked back at Harry and noticed that the air around him was beginning to settle down. Harry
lowered his arms slowly and seemed to breathe out. The wave of fire, still roaring outwards as it
fanned over the meadow, seemed to just fall to the ground and vanish. As the flame died, Bill
finally saw the giants retreating back into the forest.

He couldn’t help it – a smile just sprouted on his face. That had been certain death, Bill thought,
and they had come out of it with nary a scratch. Merlin’s balls, am I glad I insisted that Harry be
an intern under my watch.

***

“Maman,” Apolline said at last from the corner, obviously not able to take the sight of her own
daughter suffering in such a manner, “Please, enough of this. Anger is obviously not an emotion
that comes naturally to her. Not like it came for me.”

The venerable veela – still beautiful in her seventies – just sighed and stopped. She held
Gabrielle’s face in her hands and tenderly rubbed at her granddaughter’s cheeks.

“It’s okay, Grand Mere,” Gabrielle said, looking up into her grandmother’s worried eyes, “I know
you didn’t really mean it.”

And then her grandmother just hugged her.

***

Harry extinguished the fire with a breath. His magic sang, the Elder Wand was flashing bright
happy colors across his field of vision and Harry felt a fierce joy he had never felt before.

This was where he belonged.

That had been an exhilarating experience. Letting out all that bottled frustration in a blaze of
glorious, powerful magic – it had been incredible.

And now, he was horny as hell.

He turned around and walked briskly back to Bill. He willed the Elder Wand to disappear and
surreptitiously took out his phoenix feather wand as he approached his dazed, but smiling team.
The French Aurors were clutching at their hearts or just looking up at him in awe. And Bill was
just smiling stupidly up at him.

Harry grinned right back and asked casually, “So, after we retrieve this chalice, we’re totally
going back to your place, right?”

Bill opened and closed his mouth like a fish and Harry saw in his eyes that Bill knew what Harry
was really asking.

“Hell yes,” Bill rasped out.

God bless these moronic Weasley males, Harry thought as he turned to the dome and smashed a
crack right through it with his wand. No sense waiting around for a damn team of wizards to turn
up. Let’s get this over with so I can go bang a quarter-veela.

***

It was the Easter vacations right before the final exams for her penultimate year at school.
Gabrielle just wanted to relax and study away from her mother and grandmother for a while –
though she loved them with all her heart, she just didn’t want to be reminded of her continuing
failure to transform as a veela should be able to.

So, she had begged and pleaded with her father to let her go to Fleur’s and her father had
assented, no doubt wanting to be rid of her. And so, she was at Shell Cottage, cooing over her
niece, who was nearly a year old, and studying diligently. Bill was not around, and Gabrielle was
thankful – she didn’t really like how Bill turned stupid around her and just gaped like a moron. It
reminded her that she could not control parts of her own aura, and she hated that.

So it was just them girls for a week and it was heavenly. Truth be told, Gabrielle was really
surprised at how much Fleur had changed – her willful sister had finally learned to settle down
and was actually succeeding at both her home life and her work. Fleur was also a wonderful
mother to little Victoire. Fleur was learning control and Gabrielle was very surprised at that.
Maybe Fleur could give me some of that free-spirited nature so I can learn to “let go”, Gabrielle
thought wryly.

Then she was told by Fleur that Bill was coming back and that soured her mood until Fleur told
her that Bill was bringing Harry Potter along, which perked her right back up. Of course, Fleur
told Gabrielle that Bill would be home at midnight and Harry Potter would be home for dinner the
next day.

And so here Gabrielle was, the day before Harry arrived, looking at herself in the mirror
anxiously. She knew veela never had blemishes or a bad hair day, but she couldn’t help it. Harry
Potter was coming to Fleur’s house and he was staying. At least for two days, before he went
back to the Burrow (and to that awfully pretty redhead, Gabrielle thought with a pang). She knew
pining after him was absolutely stupid, but she couldn’t help her crush. And it was something she
could control, so Gabrielle could live with it.

But she had noticed how Fleur had told her about Harry coming over to stay with a nervous,
hesitant smile on her face. And that had intrigued Gabrielle. She had wanted to press her sister on
the subject, but Bill was about to arrive at midnight and Gabrielle had no desire to stay around the
redhead for long.

However, she did look forward to meeting Harry at dinner the next day. Nonetheless, Gabrielle
thought it only polite to go wish Fleur’s husband as he arrived. She would bid him a good night
and then retreat to her room as soon as she was able. So Gabrielle got up primly from her seat,
smoothed the edge of her dress, and walked softly down to the sitting room to greet Fleur’s
husband.

***

Bill and Harry emerged from the floo at roughly eleven o’clock, an hour before Bill had told Fleur
he would be getting home by himself. Truth be told, Bill was a bit nervous.

Granted, he had been the one making the requests and asking Harry to do this all along, even
writing to his sister in the process. Then, Harry had been nonchalant and Bill had wanted to
persuade him. Bill knew his young wife craved adventure in bed. Yet Bill just could not match
her appetite – Fleur had had many lovers over the years and Bill had but one before her. So Bill
had thought Harry the perfect candidate to sate his wife’s appetite – Harry was too young for his
wife to love and already had a vested interest in remaining discreet about the encounter. Harry was
trustworthy and open to such dalliances. And truth be told, Bill was highly turned on at the
thought of his smoking hot wife having a romp in bed with the handsome young man.

But now, Harry seemed eager. Bill had wanted him to come over to Shell Cottage the night after
they captured the chalice and gave it back, but Harry insisted he accompany Bill home the same
night. And Bill couldn’t help but give his assent – he did not know why this was the case… It just
was. So they had a quick dinner at a restaurant in Paris, then took a series of portkeys all the way
to London, and took the Floo back from the Ministry of Magic. Harry’s internship with Gringotts
was officially over, but Bill knew he would have to go in the next day to file a report. Which was
why he had wanted to wait a day before Harry could come over.

And yet, Bill knew he wanted this. He could not explain why, but he wanted to see this. His wife
was angelic and beautiful and he wanted to see that beauty fulfill all of its needs. Bill was many
things – brave, loyal, courageous, and adventurous – but he was sorely lacking in imagination.
While it made him great as a methodical cursebreaker, it translated very poorly to their love-
making sessions.

And he wanted to see just why Harry had caused such a stir in the Burrow. He wanted his wife
spoiled rotten, and judging by what Ron had told them, and judging by the effort it took to
convince Ginny to give her assent (he had written more letters to his sister in the past two months
than in the past seven years), Harry was an incredibly talented lover. And he knew he wanted to
give his wife some of that.

He also knew it turned him on incredibly to imagine his beautiful, angelic wife doing… that…
with someone else.

And so they walked straight into Shell Cottage where Fleur was waiting in the corridor where the
Floo was located.

Bill’s mouth just dropped open at the sight. God, Bill thought, she’s incredible.

Her thick, blonde hair flowed down her head in waves, her thick, rich mane almost reaching her
hips. Her blue eyes peered at him with such warmth and fire. Her avian nose was perched
perfectly in the center of her face anchoring her features along its delightful length. Her lips were
pouty and yet so incredibly thin and Bill could never figure out how she did that. Her face was so
fragile and beautiful.

And that wasn’t even the most incredible part. Below her slender neck hung a transparent netted
nightgown, with an incredibly low cut neck and no sleeves, and it hugged every curve of her body
down to her waist, ending just where her ass met her long legs. She was wearing an opaque, lacy
black bra underneath the transparent top and a g-string right underneath, but that blocked little
from the imagination. Her DD-sized cleavage seemed to go on forever outside the nightgown and
Bill knew that if she turned around, her amazing ass would be perfectly visible, judging by the
incredibly thin cut of her panties.

Fleur had wide hips – but they were nowhere near as wide as say, Hestia Jones in the Order. But
her ass wasn’t amazing because of how wide it was; it was amazing because of how much it
bulged out and still managed not to sag. And Bill had no idea what to do with that supple ass – he
always came within seconds of grinding against her and her ass bulged outward so much, his
prick could barely reach into her starfish the one time they tried anal sex. Bill wasn’t opposed to
trying that again, but Fleur had said it felt uncomfortable for her and that had been that.

Bill swept her into a hug in joy at remaining alive long enough to see her again. It was a chaste
hug that conveyed all of his love and affection. And then, they let go.

“Well,” said a deep voice from behind Bill, “Does the hostess of Shell Cottage always greet her
guests with such enthusiasm?”

Fleur squeaked in surprise and let go of Bill as if burnt. Bill blushed as Fleur tried to cover herself
with her hands.

“Oh, no need to be shy, Fleur,” Harry said, as he opened his arms to her, as if expecting a hug.

Fleur looked helplessly at Bill. “I was wearing this for you,” she said, defensively, “I did not
expect ‘Arry to do this today.”

Bill looked back at her equally helplessly and shrugged.

“Today, tomorrow,” Harry said lazily, “What’s the difference?”

Fleur looked at Harry incredulously, then back at Bill, searching in his eyes for something. Bill
had no idea what to make of the situation – but then again, he had assented to Harry
accompanying him on his first night home after a long mission. Bill realized with a start that while
Fleur had assented to allowing Harry into their bed for at least a night, she had wanted to greet
him with full vigor, perhaps to reassure him that no matter how good Harry is in bed, their union
shall last.

But Bill did not need reassurance. He knew Fleur had matured since her wild younger years. So
he just nodded at her and gestured to Harry.

“I’m still waiting for that welcome hug,” Harry said, his arms still outstretched and a grin on his
face.

Very, very hesitantly, Fleur stepped forward and tried to lean into Harry’s hug so that the rest of
her body would be as far away as possible from this man who was not her husband. But Harry
had other plans. Just as Fleur leaned in, Harry took a step forward and pulled the blonde woman
into him.

Harry was wearing a tight cotton tee and a pair of nylon shorts that day. Bill had been surprised at
the tourist-y outfit, but now, as he saw Harry hug his wife, he knew exactly why Harry had
chosen that outfit.

One leg of his shorts was bulging outward and the enormous cylindrical shape of the bulge made
it quite clear how massive he was. And as Fleur hugged him, Harry sidestepped just enough while
still leaning in and his massive erection rubbed against the side of Fleur’s hips. Also, instead of
hugging around her lower back, Harry just put his palms flat on her jutting ass and pinched and
pulled at her cheeks.

Fleur pulled away in surprise, but Harry wouldn’t let her ass go. Bill felt himself harden as Harry
just kept his wife in place, mauling her ass as she tried to pull away. Fleur withdrew her hands
from Harry’s back, but as she discovered she couldn’t move because he wouldn’t stop groping,
she dropped her hands helplessly to the side and tried to turn to Bill. Only, his massive erection
was grinding against her side and her left hand dropped right on his shaft and she gasped in
surprise.

“Mon Dieu!” she gasped as she stroked lightly down the enormous shaft she had landed on,
bending sideways as she tried to find the end of that gargantuan thing. He kept palming her ass
and her hands swept down over his shorts until she reached the down to his bulb somewhere in
the vicinity of his knee. “You’re not… ‘ard,” she gasped, resting her palm on his dome with only
his stretch shorts separating her skin from his shaft. He squeezed her ass cheeks particularly hard
and she squealed.

“Oh, don’t worry, Fleur,” Harry said, “I assure you that’s something you can keep working on.”

“No,” Fleur said, gasping again as Harry went back to palming her ass, “Zat is not what I mean. I
just…”

“You’re still holding onto it,” Harry said.

And Fleur’s palm rose off Harry’s head in an instant as if she had touched a burning hot dish she
had been forbidden from tasting.

Harry laughed and let go off her ass; the cheeks jiggled right back out, flushing red from his
vigorous mauling. Bill was incredibly hard right now. Fleur turned to face Bill, her face flushing
in shame. She walked towards Bill and held his hand as if to reassure herself that he wasn’t mad
as she drew beside him.

“I… did not mean to do zat,” Fleur said earnestly, looking up at him.

Bill just gaped, looked at his wife’s blushing face – Fleur was now looking straight down at the
floor in shame - and then back at Harry who was staring shamelessly at Fleur’s ass. And then
Harry swung his hand and his palm slammed onto Fleur’s arse with a loud thwack; both of her
tightly packed cheeks jiggled amazingly with the force of his slap. Fleur squealed again and
squeezed onto Bill’s hand.

“Show us to your sitting room, Bill,” Harry said.

Bill turned around and walked slowly towards the drawing room, not even daring to look behind
him lest he ejaculate prematurely at the sight of Harry treating Bill’s wife as property. He was
harder than he had ever been in his life. And with each step he and his wife took, he heard Harry
slap his hands down on Fleur’s cushy cheeks and she kept squealing each time. Her hand was
gripping onto his own almost painfully now.

By the time they finally reached his sitting room, Harry had laid at least a dozen smacks on Fleur’s
ass. The nerve of the guy, Bill thought incredulously getting harder than he thought possible, just
owning my wife’s arse right as she walks beside me!

***

The Shell Cottage sitting room was basically a small living room that didn’t quite compare to the
sprawling hall that the Weasleys had. The hearth by the side of the entrance corridor was blazing
with fire. The room was brightly lit and contained a lush sofa that seated five facing the hearth.
Around it were two single seat couches sitting perpendicular to the sofa on either side. Behind the
single seater on the opposite side of the entrance corridor was an open archway that led to the
kitchen as well as a staircase to the upper floor, where the bedrooms were.

And as Harry laid yet another smack on his wife’s bountiful rump, Bill gulped and quickly swung
his wand at the arch, casting a Silencing Charm over it. His wife had told him their sister-in-law
was in the house; Bill did not know if he remembered to tell Harry about it. Bill had been hoping
to keep this encounter discreet and confine it to their bedroom upstairs, safely ensconced in
silencing charms and wards, but this situation was spiraling out of his control. And surprisingly, he
found that it turned him on even more.

And Fleur had assured him her sister would be fast asleep. Surely, his wife would say something
if she thought they would be discovered.

They had now reached the sitting room. Harry mercifully stopped spanking Fleur’s ass and
skipped ahead to the largest couch in the room. Bill gulped as he saw that Harry had long since
taken off his shirt. Harry’s torso gleamed in the light of the room and his muscles contracted
powerfully as the black-haired man just stretched on the sofa comfortably.
Bill just sank down on the single-seater right next to the couch. His wife let go of his hand and
tried to make her way across the couch to the single-seater on the opposite side. But just as she
passed Harry to move across him, he just grabbed her ass again and pulled her ass cheeks down,
her packed ass stretching as Fleur was made to sit down right next to Harry by his grip on her
rump.

“Kneel in front of me,” Harry commanded.

Fleur just looked wide-eyed at Bill. Her husband gulped and nodded. And the blonde wife swiftly
obeyed.

Harry’s shorts had bunched up when he sat down and his entire enormous shaft was poking out
through the left leg of his shorts, fat purple cockhead peering in Bill’s direction as it protruded far
past the crumpled material of Harry’s shorts. It was draped against his thigh. It was bigger and
thicker than Bill’s entire fore-arm. It would look like a second thigh, Bill thought, if it wasn’t for
the fact that Harry’s actual thigh was more muscled than a gnarled oak.

And his wife was now eye to eye with that enormous snake – she was staring at it, completely
and entirely non-plussed with her mouth agape. She looked mesmerized.

“Like what you see?” Harry asked harshly, “Then why don’t you pull my shorts off so you can
see it better?”

“I…” Fleur began, but Harry lifted his hips off the couch and Fleur obediently slid his boxers
down.

Harry sank back down onto the couch with a sigh. “Now,” he said, “You can begin working on
making it… ‘ard.” Harry said the last word with a mocking lilt, pronouncing it exactly the way
Fleur had said it earlier.

Fleur tentatively reached a hand forward, still staring at his penis wide-eyed, as if she could not
comprehend what was happening. And neither can I, Bill thought in a daze as he unzipped his
jeans and started rubbing at his eager prick, which sprang out virtually begging for attention.

Fleur’s fingers hovered millimeters away from where Harry’s cockhead was resting on his thigh.
Then she glanced at Bill again. Bill saw his wife’s eyes widen when she noticed that he was
masturbating. Her eyes lowered very, very briefly, to Bill’s crotch and then went back to Harry’s
and Bill knew his wife was comparing them (how is Harry such a friggin’ monster?).

Fleur looked straight back at Bill as if to make it absolutely sure that he was okay with this
sequence of events. Bill couldn’t take it anymore – his wife just looked so sexy perched there in a
transparent outfit, her breasts practically spilling out of her tiny bra underneath the netted gown
and the curve of her ass mashed on her ankles as she knelt in supplication before Harry’s
enormous cock.

Bill just gulped and nodded. He needed to see where this led, and he didn’t care about the
consequences.

***

Fleur was utterly and dreadfully confused. And she was utterly and dreadfully turned on.

She had always been daddy’s little princess and she knew she had been spoilt rotten by both of her
parents. She knew she let it go to her head sometimes, and had lived her life to the fullest. The
brief affairs she had had, the lovers she had taken - they were just part and parcel of teenage
experimentation and the desire to explore her sexuality.
Eventually, though, especially in the aftermath of the Triwizard tournament, Fleur had
experienced an awakening of sorts. Being placed last in the tournament had really awoken her, in
a manner of speaking. While Fleur did not regret the full life she had led – the adventures of the
tournament, being subjected to a painful curse by Krum, experiencing the pain of not being able to
even complete the second task, realizing how horrible she had been to the fourteen year old
winner of the Triwizard tournament, the shunning she had experienced after she had returned from
the Tournament… all of these events convinced her that she needed to find some stability in life.
Some true romance, away from the brief, passionate dates of her teenage years. She needed to
move away from her life of luxury, and gain a fresh outlook.

So she had migrated to England. And had met a handsome curse-breaker – now a war hero – who
had charmed her with his impeccable manner and easy-going nature. And she was now married to
the man – she was not an inexperienced woman in the art of love, but it had never perturbed Bill.
In fact, he had even asked her to regale him with tales of her past.

Yet, it was when he started prodding her for more intimate details, even when they made love,
that really startled her. Questions about how big her previous partners had been, if they satisfied
her better than her husband did… and the weird part was how Bill seemed to enjoy her answers
regardless of whether they were in his favor.

Fleur did not really think she was dissatisfied with her sex life. Bill did have a small penis (smaller
than all of her past lovers, if she was being truthful), and was unimaginative in bed, but he made
up for it with other qualities.

Nonetheless, when Bill told her about how he wanted her to make love to his sister’s boyfriend, it
had really surprised her. However, in some ways, from the way it turned Bill on to hear her talk
about her ex-boyfriends, she should really have suspected a request like that.

She had assented, making absolutely sure that Ginny Weasley was okay with it. Ginny and Fleur
had never really been on friendly terms with each other – Fleur knew the redhead was always
making faces behind her back – and Fleur had no reason to make her only sister-in-law even more
biased than she already was. But Bill had told her his sister had given her assent.

And when Fleur had really thought about it, she wasn’t exactly opposed to some variety in bed.
Of course, she hardly expected little Harry Potter – brave hero that he was – to blow her socks off.
From what she had heard of him, he had only been with a single person – Ginny Weasley – and
Fleur doubted the little redhead witch had taught her partner much.

So she said yes to Bill’s strange request. She would play nice with Harry in bed, and return to her
stable life with her husband. So Bill had a cuckolding fetish, but who cares?

Her only worry was that she would blow Harry’s socks off, after having been with a girl for so
long (although, Fleur did suppose she was being uncharitable to the little redhead), he would
experience a woman, and Fleur had experience on her side. She had always been the dominant
lover in all of her amorous relationships, and she would obviously be the dominant one in the
encounter with the teenage boy. Then again, even if Harry did start pining after her and lacked the
maturity to see the encounter for what it was – a brief, but welcome dalliance - she would tell him
to bugger off, even if he was England’s savior.

At the very least, Fleur had thought, she would get to have her husband for a night before Harry.
And Fleur was determined to make her husband feel secure so that he wouldn’t have second
thoughts about the encounter with Harry (which Fleur was quite looking forward to, if only for the
variety). So she had dressed in a transparent nightgown and worn her best lingerie to rock her
husband’s world so that he would be assured of their bond.
Instead, Harry had happened.

He had used her, manhandled her, groped her and her husband seemed to enjoy it! And the worst
part (or the best part, Fleur supposed) was that she enjoyed it too. Harry had crushed her tendency
to be dominant in bed with nary an effort, spanking her ass all over the place and making her gush
with mere words. No one had said such things to her before – no one had dared.

Fleur had thought him a boy and he had turned out to be a man. And now, as he sat there with his
legs spread out and his shorts off, Fleur saw how much of a man he really was.

To put it bluntly, Harry was enormous – the largest cock she had ever seen, by far. His balls were
the size of Fleur’s fist. How do they not chafe against his thighs when he walks? Fleur thought
incredulously. And his cock – it was like something out of paintings of satyrs Fleur had seen in
museums and palaces. It was so long it draped over his balls and extended off them onto the
couch – he was obviously soft. Off to the side, she could hear her husband panting as he jerked
off.

“Now, we can work on making me ‘ard,” Harry said.

Fleur reached out both hands towards his enormous meat and gathered it up in her fists. Morgana,
Fleur thought, my forefinger and thumb barely even touch each other. And there’s space for two
more hands on this impossible thing!

So Fleur tugged and pulled at it and his cock jangled this way and that, stretching and flopping,
but not growing hard. Fleur was almost insulted – she knew she was sexy; the man should have
gotten hard as soon as she touched him. She glared up into his eyes and only saw amusement
sparkling in his eyes. The green-eyed bastard is holding back. He’s taunting me.

And this encounter was supposed to have been biased in her favor. She was a scorching blonde
goddess compared to the little girl Harry lugged around. Her ire grew and her husband fell away
into a dark corner of her mind as she focused solely on the limp cock before her. She would make
it hard and she would show this arrogant little shit (not so little, and incredibly handsome for a
little shit, a voice in her head whispered) what a real woman was like.

“What he really needs to wake up,” Harry taunted, “Is a little kiss, mon ami.”

Oh, Fleur thought angrily, I’ll show him a kiss.

She plunged her mouth down on his shaft, her tits bashing onto his knees. And then, just as she
had managed to stuff his soft tip into her mouth, Harry stood up, moving off the couch and
towering above her. Fleur rose up to keep his cockhead in her mouth and her tits squashed onto
his thighs, still clad in a bra. Now Harry was right above her breasts, his cock spilling into her
mouth and his balls inches from her chin. Fleur was still holding onto the upper half of his soft
shaft by the base.

And she stuffed his cock further in and mashed her lips on his cock keeping her teeth well away as
she licked and slobbered on his penis.

“That’s right,” Harry said, “Munch on my cock, you little slut.”

Fleur just glared at the man as she pushed her penis further and further down her mouth, stuffing it
in with her hands. And it started hardening and rapidly at that. Fleur grew alarmed at how much it
was growing inside her mouth. Her lips stretched and she tried to move off, but Harry’s hands
snapped to her shoulders and just held her in place. His head poked into the back of her throat and
her airway was blocked.
Harry’s hands moved to her head and his fingers dug into her hair, just holding her against his
cock. She choked and gagged and spluttered and starting smacking her fists against his thighs –
not even making a dent in those slabs of muscle, but the man allowed her no respite. And after
fifteen solid seconds of just holding her on his hardening cock, Harry let her go and she snapped
her head back in a daze, letting go of his shaft with a loud pop, her lips dragging against its
immense girth as she slipped off.

“Batard,” she snarled, even as her cunt gushed at the said bastard’s humiliation. Fleur couldn’t
believe she was getting off being humiliated like this. She turned around to look at her husband
again, to see what he thought of this, but her eyes bulged as she saw that her husband had already
spilled. He had cum from seeing his wife being used by another man? And Bill was rubbing
again. Now, Fleur was doubly insulted – he had never gone for seconds with her, but seeing her
used like this was turning him on so much he could get a second wind without so much as a
reload time?

Fine, Fleur thought, if that’s how my husband wants me to play, I’ll play. And I’ll love it.

And she was loving it, Fleur thought guiltily. It was an entirely new experience to her – being
dominated like this – and Fleur had thought she had left these “new experiences” behind a long
time ago. But she had never really changed, Fleur thought, she had just been suppressing herself.

And it looked like Harry was here to bring old Fleur right back.

She looked up at Harry and smiled. “Fine,” she said, “Show me a good time, mon amour.”

Harry grinned right back, bent down, gathered her hair in his left hand and pulled her head back
so she was facing straight up. With his right, Harry held the base of his meat and raised it like a
club. And then smacked it down on her face, across her right cheek. Fleur squealed. His cock was
now on the other side, and Fleur realized it was now completely hard – Harry was actually
shifting his hips as he smacked her. And his cock was remarkably straight for such a grotesquely
large penis – like a rod of unbending steel with nary a hair anywhere. And the musk – Fleur had
smelt it as it passed her face oozing a trail of pre-cum – smelt amazing. Like nothing she had ever
smelt on any of her lovers.

He isn’t human, Fleur thought, he can’t be. He was almost like an avatar of some long-lost deity,
some forgotten god who was banned from this world for showing human women what they could
never fully have or understand.

A god of love.

And then the god wielded his whip again, smacking her left cheek this time with his cock. But
Fleur did not let it go out of reach this time. She clapped a hand to it, clutching it from one side so
that it lay flush against her cheek on the other. She cuddled it and inhaled that amazing musk
again. She slid her face back, never letting her cheek let go of that amazing pole, until she reached
his fat, purple crown, at which point she turned her head and kissed it.

The kiss widened until her mouth was almost French-kissing his sensitive dome, slurping at it with
her tongue. And then Harry pushed so that his entire head was buried in her mouth yet again.
Fleur kept his enormous head in her mouth and swallowed. Merde, she thought, his pre-cum even
tastes amazing.

And then she sank down on it until it was clogging up her airways again – Fleur wanted to feel
that again. The helplessness she felt at being impaled on his cock and the bliss she felt as she
escaped its imposing girth – she was getting off on it.
“Fuck,” Harry grunted, just as Bill choked out, “You slut!” and Fleur heard her husband’s fapping
pace speed up. I really do have the best of both worlds, Fleur thought snidely, a husband that
loves me so much he would invite a god into bed just to make me happy.

Fleur choked herself silly on Harry’s shaft and then drew up again, but she just did not want to let
go of that tasty cockhead so she slid up until her lips met the ridge where his head met the main
shaft, keeping his crown in her mouth, and then choked herself down again. She slapped her
hands against his muscled ass and pulled so that he would go even further down her throat and
gagged and spluttered.

The deep-throating continued for ten whole minutes until Harry’s shaft was glistening with what
seemed to be gallons of Fleur’s spit. Harry eventually had to pull the blonde wife off his cock,
strands of saliva linking her lips to his lower head.

“Looks like you’re addicted,” he said, observing her spit-glazed face casually.

Fleur just panted. Her lungs were on fire from choking herself repeatedly on his tasty cock-meat
and her cheeks felt heavy from being expanded by Harry’s girth, but she couldn’t help herself.
She just panted wheezed and nodded.

Harry laughed. “Get up,” he commanded.

And Fleur got onto her feet, realizing with a start that she actually the same height as Harry. But
he looks huge, Fleur thought, and then realized that Harry was, in fact, significantly broader and
muscled than she had realized.

Had he always been like this? How did the girls at Hogwarts even stop themselves from jumping
this man at every turn?

Harry gripped her by her shoulders and turned her around so she was facing Bill with her back to
Harry. She felt his cock push against her ass cheeks and then snuggle into her asscrack, its head
pushing at her lower back. And then she felt the back of her transparent gown tear with a loud rip.
The smooth skin of Harry’s palms made contact with her bare back and Fleur realized that Harry
had torn the back of her night gown apart for better access to her body – her gown still hung along
the front by her shoulder straps. After unclasping her bra, spilling her breasts and hardened,
aroused nipples out for the world to see as her bra dropped down to the floor from under her
gown, his hands travelled out towards both sides along her back and Fleur moaned as she realize
what Harry was going for.

Her eyes drew level with her husband and she looked straight at Bill as Harry palmed the sides of
her tits and then moved his hands around so that his palms lay right on her tits. Harry’s front was
now flush against her back. His balls lay right underneath her jutting ass, which was smushed
against Harry’s thighs and his cock was buried in her cheeks as it stood to attention against her
lower back. And then Harry squeezed her breasts, let go almost immediately and pulled at her
nipples and then massaged them, pushing them this way and Fleur moaned, still looking straight
into Bill’s eyes whose fingers were a blur as he drooled at the sight of his wife’s breasts being
kneaded like flour right in front of him.

Fleur’s eyes grew glazed as Harry’s ministrations grew even more pleasurable. He was licking
and kissing the side of her neck and she bent her head to allow further access.

***

Harry was loving the scent of Fleur’s hair as he burrowed into it and nibbled at her neck, sucking
and laying lustful kisses along its length. And her breasts felt wonderful in his palms as he
kneaded them to his heart’s content. And he knew she was loving it too, from the moans and
gasps she was emitting, not to mention the rock hard nipples on her amazing tits. Fleur ground her
ass on his cock and his shaft felt as if it was surrounded by her heavenly globes as it snuggled into
her crack.

“Enough,” Harry said eventually, “Now for the main event.”

He let go of her heavenly breasts and sank down on the couch right behind him. Fleur sighed at
the loss of his hands and he grinned. His cock was rock hard and pointing straight at the ceiling.
Fleur turned around, looked at him and gasped again.

“Sit on it, Fleur,” he said.

She stared at his shaft, her eyes moving up and down its length, as if deciding the best course to
tackle her next task. Eventually, she stepped out of her thong, planted her legs on either side of
him and stood up facing him with her feet on the couch, her twat gleaming over him with arousal
and her amazing tits high up in the air. She was still wearing the transparent shirt, but she was
wearing nothing under it now, and Harry had a tantalizing view of her breasts underneath the
netted material that he had been palming but a few seconds ago.

While Fleur didn’t quite have the folds that the Weasley females possessed, her lower lips were
amazingly plump and her clitoris was the largest Harry had ever seen. It must have been at least
half an inch in diameter – he wondered if that was a veela thing. But Harry was in no mood to go
down on her – no, he wanted her to serve him, like he deserved. His mind was choked with lust
after the battle, short as it was, and he was going to fuck this woman like she deserved it.

Drops of arousal dripped down and landed with splats on his cockhead and he grinned up at
Fleur’s face. She blushed and looked away from him. Slowly, teasingly, she bit her lower lip and
sank down until her pussy was hovering millimeters above the tip of his penis. Harry had to
admire her flexibility as she squatted down on her thighs. And then, with a gasp from both him
and Fleur, her plump cuntlips parted as they met his crown with an open kiss.

“You’re flowing!” Harry crowed as Fleur gasped, “Merde” and her twat seemed to drool as it let
go of streams of her arousal down his cock. And then Fleur sank a little more and his crown
buried into her twat, parting her deliciously tight lips far apart.

“Merde”, Fleur gasped again, “This… is… biggest… mon dieu!”

Suddenly Bill seemed to groan quite loudly from the corner. Harry and Fleur both looked around
in surprise. The redhead’s face seemed to go slack as he came for the second time that night. And
then he promptly fainted as an airy presence floated into the room.

Harry and Fleur looked at the archway to the stairs that was the source of this new presence,
Fleur’s twat still hugging his enormous head.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, looking extremely angry, was Gabrielle Delacour.
 Warrior, Part 4

Gabrielle was seething as she observed the entire scene in the Shell Cottage drawing room. Fleur’s
husband was sitting in a corner and jerking off pathetically as he watched his own wife go down
on an enormous penis. And that wasn’t even the truly galling part – the worst part was that the
enormous penis belonged to a certain Harry Potter. The man Gabrielle had the biggest crush on.

The fury that had built up over sixteen years of being denied what she desired in favor of making
way for her elder sister, of watching her father buy trinkets for her sister as she stood forlornly on
the side, of broken dreams of being accepted as a daughter as opposed to a freak… all of it came
crashing down in an instant, working her up more than her grandmother’s slaps did in a week of
training.

Yet again, Fleur had snatched away something that she desired. Only, this time, there was no Jean
Delacour to glance at her with disdain when she protested. Her aura flared and Fleur’s weak-
minded fool of a husband creamed himself and fainted like an idiot.

Gabriell scoffed and entered the room. The gazes of the rutting couple on the couch both snapped
around to face her.

“C’est quoi ce bordel?” Gabrielle screamed. “Salope!”

Fleur cringed and tried to move off Harry, but his hands snapped onto her hips and he held her in
place. Gabrielle’s eyes involuntarily went down to the junction where her sister’s clean-shaven
crotch met Harry and gulped. Fleur’s plump lips were stretched wider than Gabrielle had even
thought a pussy could stretch and the ridge where Harry’s enormous dome met his fat rod was just
outside Fleur’s gaping quim. And his pole gleamed so enticingly in the bright light of the room –
Fleur’s pussy was gushing over his penis.

”Gabby,” Fleur gasped, “Casse-toi.”

Gabrielle gritted her teeth and switched to English. “I’m not fucking off anywhere,” she said
crossly.

Fleur was now squirming as she tried to get out of Harry’s iron grip and bent over, clutching onto
his shoulders for support as her twat began churning out fluids at a greater pace. Despite herself,
Gabrielle felt her face flush and her nipples harden. Her elder slut of a sister seemed to be drooling
with her pussy now – Harry’s shaft was practically coated with Fleur’s arousal, and Fleur had yet
to sink down on his pole.

Then, Harry said in a low husky voice that sent shivers up Gabrielle’s spine, “Come sit down,
Gabby.”

Fleur chimed in and gasped out, “No. Gabby… go… to… room.”

That settled it. Gabrielle walked straight over to the couch and sat down primly on its edge, at least
two feet away from the couple. And then blushed as she saw the rutting couple in all their glory.
Fleur’s clit – a vestige of her veela heritage – was poking right out through her plump lips, looking
absurdly tiny against the endless shaft it lay flush against. Her sister was clearly aroused. Such a
slut, Gabrielle thought grumpily.

And then she squeaked as her clothes suddenly vanished, leaving nary a trace of fiber on her
body. Gabrielle frantically tried to cover up as she moved to the edge of the couch, but Harry
stopped her with a word, “Don’t.” She stared at Harry – he was obviously the one that had
vanished her clothes (how had he done that?) and his eyes seemed to radiate power. Her crush
warred with her sense of shame. Eventually, her crush won out.

And Gabrielle obeyed. Slowly, hesitantly, she put her hands down and went back to her sitting
position, her nipples standing to attention. Gabrielle knew her sister was at least a cup size above
her(just one more thing her sister had that she didn’t), but she had long since come to terms with it.
However, it was the fact that Harry was looking at her, awed, that truly got her going.

“Non,” Fleur moaned, “’Arry… look… at… me, please.”

And Harry pulled on Fleur’s hips. Fleur’s protests died on her lips as she sank down on Harry’s
rod with a single thrust. It scraped her clit and smashed straight into her cervix and Fleur came
with a shudder. Both Gabrielle and Harry, who were staring at each other, glanced at Fleur in
surprise. Harry obviously did not know that Fleur was so close to the edge. Fleur’s plump lips
were now squirming around the base of his shaft, rubbing against his balls as she seemed to leak
and shudder and moan.

“Zis… is… biggest… cock,” Fleur groaned as her convulsions wound down and she collapsed
against Harry’s body. Her tongue lolled out and she lapped at Harry’s face. He turned his head
towards Gabrielle with an amused glance as Fleur licked around his ear. Gabrielle simply glared as
she strove to maintain the control she so cherished.

“Bitch,” Gabrielle snarled.

“’Arry’s bitch,” Fleur moaned out happily and Gabrielle gritted her teeth, even as her nipples
hardened at the words. Harry just grinned at Gabrielle and pulled Fleur’s hips up again, his
muscles bunching up as he worked her pussy up his shaft, leaving a trail of her cum all over his
cock.

“Non, not ready!” Fleur moaned out as her body started spasming again.

And then Harry let go of Fleur’s hips again. Her legs, which were against the couch, refused to
work, and Fleur just collapsed back down on Harry’s shaft, her pussy making a squelch sound as
it made room for his pole, which slammed deep inside Fleur’s vagina again. “Aaaaaaaaaah!” Fleur
screamed, “Je ve jouir! Oui, oui! … de nouveau!” as her orgasm just seemed to go on.

“Non!” Gabrielle gasped and moved to stop Fleur – she didn’t want to see this… didn’t want to
see her sister ride a man she wanted, so as Harry pulled Fleur up again, Gabrielle snapped her
palms around Harry’s shaft just underneath Fleur’s twat, intending to stop her sister from being
impaled again on his shaft. And then she gaped – she hadn’t realized how enormous that rod was
– as her fingers struggled to encircle even half of Harry’s meat. “Merde,” Gabrielle gasped and
then Fleur screamed the same word as she was impaled again, despite Gabrielle’s efforts.

Fleur’s clit bashed against Gabrielle’s hands, and both Fleur’s shuddering quim and Gabrielle’s
soft hands slid down Harry’s shaft until Gabrielle’s hands were resting on his balls. Fleur
screamed as the sensation of Gabrielle’s hand smashing against her clit just as she impaled herself
on Harry’s fat cock sent her careening off to yet another high and she creamed all over her little
sister’s hands.

Gabrielle both saw her sister’s pussy gush out a river of juices and felt it splatter all over her hands,
and she grew even more aroused. Gabrielle needed what her sister was getting, she wanted it. For
not the first time in her life, Gabrielle wanted what her sister had and wanted it bad. Only, this
time, there was no one to dissuade Gabrielle from throwing a tantrum, nor anyone for snatching
Fleur’s toy away.
“That’s more like it!” Harry said triumphantly, “Stroke my shaft as your sister swallows it with her
pussy!”

Gabrielle blushed – she really hadn’t intended to join in, but now that he’d invited her, she would.
She would show Harry what a real veela could do, as opposed to a human like Fleur (quarter-
veela being an absurd technicality for a woman who only possessed a fraction of Gabrielle’s
aura).

Suddenly, Harry rose up, grabbing onto Fleur’s ass and mauling her fleshy cheeks as he held her
flush against the base of his shaft. Gabrielle’s hands slid off and she gaped as her crush kissed her
older sister with his shaft sheathed inside Fleur’s dripping pussy. Fleur was still shuddering and
quivering and her legs were crossed behind Harry as she was held in the air by her own hands
curled around Harry’s neck and Harry’s strong grip on her ass. Gabrielle watched open mouthed
as she saw Harry’s and Fleur’s open mouths suckle on the other’s lips, their tongues swirling
together with lust and passion.

And then, their mouths pulled off with a slurp and Harry commanded Fleur to step down and turn
around. Fleur obeyed and bent over with her ass to Harry. Harry steered Fleur so that she was face
to face with the seated Gabrielle and then pushed.

And suddenly, Fleur was hugging Gabrielle. Fleur was bent over, her face right against
Gabrielle’s, her right cheek flush against Gabrielle’s own. Fleur was staring with glazed eyes at
the back of the couch on which Gabrielle was seated and the young half-veela was staring straight
over Fleur’s shoulder at Harry. Harry grinned at Gabrielle and raised his massive shaft with his
right hand. And then, wielding his cock like a stick, he smacked Fleur’s right ass cheek with it,
jiggling it with the force of his cockslap. Fleur squealed in Gabrielle’s ear delightedly. And then,
as Gabrielle gaped, Harry started slapping Fleur’s ass silly with his fat cock, jiggling her cheeks
almost continuously as he alternated one cheek after the other and Gabrielle’s right ear resonated
with her sister’s high-pitched joyous squeals.

And then, Harry reached right over Fleur’s back, his slick cock sliding against her ass, as he
grabbed Fleur’s rich golden mane and pulled. Fleur’s face snapped back and she was now eye to
eye with Gabrielle. And then, Gabrielle saw Harry push and his cock disappeared into Fleur’s
folds again, although Gabrielle could not see the penetration. But Gabrielle knew Harry had sunk
his cock into Fleur’s pussy because her sister got that look on her face again – the silly, triumphant
grin and the glazed eyes that made Gabrielle both aroused and mad. Fleur moaned right in
Gabrielle’s face. Gabrielle let Fleur’s pleasant breath wash over her as Harry started pounding in.
Fleur was still holding onto Gabrielle’s shoulders and started pushing and pulling, moving
Gabrielle back and forth as she got fucked.

“OUI, OUI!” Fleur started screaming with each thrust of Harry’s enormous shaft and ripple of her
bouncing ass as Harry’s hips met Fleur’s buttocks with a series of resounding claps,
“AAAAAAH!”

Fleur was soon screaming and drooling right in Gabrielle’s face as they both moved back and
forth; Gabrielle had anchored herself into the couch and her own hands were braced against the
backrest, but the force of Harry’s pounding was such that Gabrielle could not help but collide with
the back of the couch, only to bounce right back as he pulled out of Fleur. And her sister was
screaming in her face the whole time, her hot breath washing over Gabrielle.

And it just went on and on, until Gabrielle’s back grew sour with the constant thrusts into the
couch. After nearly twenty minutes of pounding, Fleur began shuddering and quivering all over
Gabrielle’s shoulders, her fingers clawing lightly on Gabrielle’s neck and her eyes rolling up in
her head.
“Je n’en peux plus!” Fleur screamed, “’Arry! Please! Cannot… take… much… more…
PLEASE!”

And the last word extended into a full-throated scream as Fleur seemed to have her biggest orgasm
yet. Gabrielle saw Harry grin behind Fleur and then pull out. And Fleur seemed to collapse and
continue to shudder on the ground, curling up into a fetal position. Gabrielle couldn’t help but grin
at the helpless position. “Bitch,” Gabrielle murmured. After several minutes of shuddering on the
ground, Fleur seemed to fall into something resembling a coma. Gabrielle couldn’t help but stare
at her sister’s plump pussy lips, which seemed to be gasping and quivering, open-mouthed and
pulverized by Harry’s rod.

Harry seemed to conjure a wand out of thin air as he floated the comatose Fleur over to the couch
right beside Gabrielle, where the older woman just curled up into the couch. Gabrielle just gaped
at this casual display of wandless magic – where had he even conjured the wand from?

And then the thought died as Harry moved towards her with his enormous rod waving eagerly,
pointing high up into the air. There were fluids dripping this way and that as the cock bounced
with Harry’s every step – Gabrielle could only assume it was Fleur’s juices and spit, because
Harry did not look like he had cum yet.

And as if confirming her assumption, Harry said, “Care to finish what your sister started?”

Gabrielle kept her legs firmly closed as her pussy gushed and her clit hardened. Gabrielle then
placed both hands on her crotch, hiding it from Harry’s view with an “eep” as she stared into his
feral, but mesmerizing green eyes.

“Your sister,” Harry said lightly as he simply stood before her with a massive erection, “Is what
the guys at Hogwarts used to call a good, hard fuck. You pound her silly for the better part of an
hour and that’s all there is to it. Any longer, and you get bored. Any less, and she leaves
unsatisfied.”

Harry looked over at Fleur. “Well, she seems pretty satisfied, don’t you think?”

Gabrielle glanced at Fleur and her swollen pussy briefly and then looked back at Harry. She said
nothing.

“But you,” Harry said, looking straight at her, “You are what I call a long, erotic fuck. You’re
exotic – a veela. You deserve so much more than that.”

“Yes,” Gabrielle breathed, “So… much… more… than… ‘er…”

Harry seemed amused. “Ah, so there’s friction between sisters, eh? No matter, I shall show you a
world of pleasure, Gabrielle, if you’ll only let me.”

His voice softened at the end and he knelt in front of Gabrielle, his knees on the ground in front of
her as she sat on the couch. Those green eyes seemed to look into her soul as he just held her
gaze.

And Gabrielle couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted what her sister had, needed it, craved it. And
she deserved it, much more so than her utter slut of a sister. So she took her hands off her crotch
and spread her legs wide as she pushed her hips forward along the couch.

Harry looked down. “Well,” he said, his tone light, “This is new.”

***
Harry stared at Gabrielle’s crotch.

Gabrielle squeaked in alarm as she tried to close her legs again, but Harry’s hands snapped into
place along her inner thighs as he kept them apart. Gabrielle blushed and looked down at her own
vaginal lips. Where a human woman would have a clitoris, she had a long tubular filament, about
half an inch thick and three inches long - as big as Gabrielle’s little finger, Harry surmised –
apparently sprouting right above her opening, fleshy pink in color and immensely sensitive,
judging by how it was quivering as Harry blew upon it.

“It is called a… stamen,” Gabrielle said in one breath, anxious to find out if her crush was
disgusted or not, “It… it is a veela growth.”

“Ah,” Harry said, remembering what Bill had said, “Veela grow a protuberance when… they are
aroused, I presume. You discharge a genetic material through this tube into other veela, in case
you decide to make a full veela.”

Gabrielle just nodded and blushed. “Oh don’t worry, Gabrielle,” Harry said casually, “I’m just
surprised. It’s… beautiful.”

Gabrielle stared at him with disbelieving eyes. At that moment, it struck Harry how closely she
resembled her older sister. The same pert, avian nose, the same azure blue eyes, the pouty lips and
the utterly beautiful face – they were all there. However, Fleur’s nose was a little too long, her lips
a little too plump and her left eye was a bit more skewed than her right. And those imperfections
only served to enhance Fleur’s beauty.

Gabrielle’s features, on the other hand, were perfect. Like she was designed to be utterly,
devastatingly beautiful. Her long, blonde hair sparkled and glimmered with a beauty that Fleur’s
hair did not even come close to matching. He supposed her perfectly symmetrical features should
have place Gabrielle in some sort of uncanny valley, but they did not – and he could pinpoint
exactly why that was. All around her, rippling with repressed energy was a sense of magic. The
notorious veela aura, that Gabrielle had just used to devastating effect to make Bill go to sleep,
hung around her, tightly controlled but immensely powerful. And Harry loved that feeling.

Harry grinned and just dove in.

***

Gabrielle was seeing stars in five minutes flat. Harry had licked and lapped at her, teasing around
her incredibly sensitive stamen – as sensitive as a human woman’s clitoris, but larger and packed
with more nerve endings – and then delved into her with his tongue. And had continued to do so
for a while before he found a spot inside her that she loved. She squealed as he scoped it out, then
he grinned around her plump lips and his tongue started to vibrate, all the while licking away at
that spot. And her twat gushed and pumped out fluid all over her lover’s immensely talented
tongue. His nose was pushing her stamen this way and that as he slurped away at her gushing
pussy.

“Oh yes!” Gabrielle cried as she quivered around Harry. She clutched at his head and tried to
draw him even deeper into her cunt. “Make me cum! Make me cum!”

Her stamen was stiffer than ever – Gabrielle had had several orgasms before by virtue of her own
fingers, but never as intense as this. And from what she could tell, it would only get more intense
from here.

Harry drew away from her twat with a slurp. “So,” Harry said idly as he looked at her still
shuddering quim, “How does the stamen discharge genetic material exactly?”
Gabrielle moaned, as she struggled to come down from her orgasm. She was slowly losing control
and she knew it. “Veela… ‘ave a set of glands,” she panted, her brain struggling to come up with
the information through her haze, “They… ooze… the… material… when… aroused.”

And sure enough, the tip of the stamen, which had grown into a miniscule bulb started oozing a
fluid that looked quite similar to her vaginal juices. The drops of fluid started dripping right back
down the slim tube and down the edge of her cunt lips.

“Interesting,” Harry said idly and Gabrielle realized how hilarious this discussion was. He was
kneeling before her with an enormous erection discussing veela physiology while staring at her
drooling twat and leaking stamen.

Without warning, Harry suddenly hooked his hands underneath her legs and stood up so that her
feet were right around his shoulders. And then something enormous pushed against her pussy,
spreading her plump lips apart deliciously and Gabrielle moaned, “’Arry!”

She looked down and almost came at the sight of Harry’s fat cockhead parting her twat with its
stout girth. Her stiff, leaking stamen was now flush against his unyielding cockhead, looking
impossibly tiny next to that enormous meatpole.

And Harry took a hold of his cock with his right hand and teased up her relatively tiny stamen and
Gabrielle groaned at the sensation. Then Harry stroked the tip of his cock against her lower lips,
tracing the rims of her weeping cunt with the tip of his cock.

“HARRY!” Gabrielle pleaded in desperation, “Please!”

“Oh?” Harry asked, “You want this cock in you, Gabrielle?”

“YES!” Gabrielle moaned as Harry started pushing ever so slightly against her pussy, sinking into
it a millimeter before pulling right back out. She was squirming on her seat now, begging for that
meat to plunge into her horny twat.

And then Gabrielle let go of her aura again, as she did earlier, only trying to egg Harry on, using
her magic to her advantage as she seldom had before.

It was like throwing her magic against an unyielding wall. Her aura, springing forward in a tightly
controlled manner, seemed to meet a well of power.

“Tch, tch,” Harry said, “Oh Gabby, you silly little girl.”

***

Harry felt her aura spring forward as it tried to force him to bend to his will. Only, he reached out
with his own power, stomping her aura into the ground. He grinned as Gabrielle moaned, her twat
shuddering right around his crown, and then latched onto Gabrielle’s retreating aura. She tried to
pull it back into her rapidly and Harry just followed it back to its source.

As he had expected, Gabrielle’s aura was tightly wound up – he smirked and decided the veela
needed a bit of loosening up. So he searched around, poking and prodding at her magic and
discovered numerous chains and locks that the girl must have taken years to forge. He got the
sense that all of these blocks, self-imposed though they were, had been forged subconsciously and
intuitively. He was getting a sense of where Gabrielle was coming from – obviously, the nature of
the birth had not sat well with her parents (or perhaps just her father), from what Bill had told him.
And that had led to no small amount of neglect, which had forced Gabrielle to impose locks
unconsciously upon her own aura, locking her presence in and taming magic that was supposed to
be free. I’m familiar with the situation, Harry thought dryly.

So Harry reached out with tentacles of power and held onto every lock he could find with his
magic. And then pulled.

***

Gabrielle frantically tried to withdraw her aura as she felt Harry’s power grow; his eyes blazed
with untamed magic and the loose objects in the room started shuddering in place. Suddenly, she
felt his magic poke into her aura almost painfully, seizing it in places that hurt. And then the air
shimmered and Gabrielle moaned in relief – she felt as if someone had just popped a dozen knots
in her back she had not even realized she had. Like her magic was a muscle that was loosening up
after a vigorous massage. Dimly, she realized she was beginning to let go, just like her
grandmother and mother had said.

And she came with a vengeance, her pussy shuddering as it grasped at Harry’s dome, trying to
encourage it to move in. A dozen bottled emotions burst forth in a hurry – Gabrielle alternated
between rage, sorrow and utter bliss – bliss being the most prominent among them.

She was… free.

***

Gabrielle drew up and bent over nearly double as she tried to shower Harry’s face with happy
kisses. Her legs were still around Harry’s shoulders. She pushed her legs down his shoulders to
the sides, Harry hooked his hands up and her legs dropped onto his forearms. She hugged Harry
around the neck as he sheathed himself completely in her vagina.

He had no idea why Gabrielle was so happy at the moment – he had merely helped her loosen up
(or so he thought). And then her twat gushed as she came and Harry really had no idea why that
had just happened. He had barely moved. So he happily plunged right in and gasped at the
sensation of her fluttering pussy.

It was amazing inside her. Her inner walls were inhumanly silky… velvet, wet flesh parting
smoothly as he entered and then hugging his shaft in a manner he had not even experienced with
another woman. So this is what a veela is like, he thought.

And their lips met – her tongue dueled his and then surrendered as he plundered her mouth. He
was loving the sensation of her pussy – it was unlike anything he had experienced before. And he
knew it was not because Gabrielle knew how to control her inner walls; he was obviously her first.
But it was intuitive, the way her walls slid aside as his cock pushed in, only to tighten with
amazing control as he sheathed himself completely. And then, as he pulled out, her wet twat
hugged his cock as if not wanting to let it go after welcoming it inside so smoothly. It was
amazing. This was the perhaps the best cunt he had experienced – only Hermione’s incredibly
tight quim matched up to it in terms of sheer pleasure.

His balls were slapping against her ass and he pistoned in and out of her smoothly and Gabrielle
moaned against his mouth, kissing him for all she was worth. Incredulously, he noted that both
Fleur and Bill were not even stirring and the room was practically echoing with the slap of his
flesh against Gabrielle.

Time to take this upstairs, he thought.

***

Gabrielle’s legs were in the air, held up by Harry’s hands and her mouth was furiously engaged
with his, but the only sensation she truly felt at that moment was that of his cock finding its home
in her pussy. Her stamen rubbed against his enormous shaft and then pushed up against Harry’s
tummy as he slammed in and then slid back along his slimy cock, oozing her stuff all the way.

Dimly, she registered that the scene around her was shifting and changing rapidly. Her sister and
the sitting room had faded away to give way to the staircase going up to the second floor and then,
suddenly, they were in the guest bedroom, right beside the bed.

“You… left… Fleur… down stairs?” she choked out in between gasps as she pulled her lips off
Harry’s.

Harry shrugged.

“Thought her husband would love seeing his thoroughly shagged wife on the couch,” he said.

“So… naughty,” Gabrielle gasped and smiled.

And then Harry pushed her up against the wall and started really pounding her. Her legs went
limp and her chokehold around Harry tightened as she screamed out at yet another orgasm. And
then something inside her flared and she pushed.

***

Harry gasped as Gabrielle seemed to burst off the wall, throwing both of them down onto the
large bed behind them. He sank down on his back onto the soft bedding and Gabrielle bounced
atop him, her breasts jiggling delightedly as she rode him, her pussy still milking his cock in a
delightfully refreshing fashion. He grinned at the feeling, reached up and squeezed her breasts,
pulling at her nipples and palming her heaving bosom.

“I am veela!” Gabrielle screeched as her cunt quivered and she came again with a flurry of fluids.

And the air seemed to thrum with the sensation of powerful magic. Gabrielle’s golden, sparking
hair turned dull, then shimmered forest green. Her back arched and feathers of the same forest
green color seemed to sprout all over her body. Her hands grew out and sharpened into claws.
Gabrielle’s feet squeezed underneath Harry’s lower back, getting between him and the bed, as
they grew into talons. Emerald scales sprouted everywhere on her slender limbs and her face
morphed. Her nose and mouth grew out, hardening and forming a cruel, curved beak and her eyes
seemed to sparkle with an unholy light. And that was when the wings sprouted.

Harry gaped. The wingspan was enormous and the wings were utterly gorgeous. Softy, white
downy feathers covered the entire field of his vision and Gabrielle transformed from a woman of
heavenly beauty to a fiercely beautiful creature of unearthly majesty, his cock still sheathed inside
her. Like a mythical dryad – like nature given flesh.

The wings flapped and Harry felt the air churn around him as she rose into the air, pulling him up
with her in a display of inhuman strength. Her cunt, now covered with tiny feathers on the outside,
was choking his dick. It was as if she was a predator, taking him – a hapless prey – to her nest, to
ruin and use.

Well, he was no hapless prey. Harry just grinned, pulled down, pushing her talons under his back
down slightly in the process and then thrust upwards, fucking her in mid-air. The sensation was
incredible – a fully transformed Gabrielle was holding Harry in mid-air as he continued spearing
in and out of her deliciously tight cunt in short, powerful jabs.

“I feel like I’m floating!” Harry crowed, “Floating… and fucking.”

Gabrielle’s beak opened and she let out a screech like a bird of prey, as her cunt shuddered yet
again around Harry’s shaft. She was cumming, again. And then Gabrielle descended as she came
around his cock, plunging them back down on the bed. Her wings shrunk and retreated into her
back, her feathers disappeared and her hair turned back to its lustrous golden hue. The magic in
the air simmered down and Gabrielle came down from her high as she sank down on his shaft,
now looking utterly human, if inordinately beautiful.

She was staring at him wide- eyed as she just sat on his cock and stared. “Did… I… transform?”
she gasped, wide-eyed, her pussy still wet and quivering around his shaft and her stamen still erect
as it pressed into his abs.

Harry nodded. She slumped forward onto his chest and kissed him.

“I transformed!” she cheered between kisses, “I transformed!”

The happiness was infectious. “Thank you, thank you!” Gabrielle said as she kissed Harry deeply,
their tongues entwining and curling around each other for nearly a minute before she withdrew.

And then she paused. “Harry,” she said, “I… love you.”

Harry just grinned and flipped them over so that she was beneath him. And then proceeded to
grind her, his cock spreading and pushing the insides of her vagina deliciously as he rotated his
hips. She moaned and they kissed again.

“You’re utterly gorgeous,” Harry murmured, “Even when you transform… my winged angel.”

***

Gabrielle had no idea how long they continued to make love. Harry just pushed her walls this way
and that as he ground against her ever so pleasurably, then pounded into her, his slick cock sliding
in and out of her pussy with abandon and then lifted her hips as he knelt and angled his cock right
into her g-spot. She came countless times as he made love to her for what seemed like hours.

I have learned to let go, Gabrielle thought happily, Let go of my own magic. Let go of my true
self.

And then she looked at the man who was making love to her. But I am never letting go of him,
she decided, making a vow to herself. Harry was hers and she was his.

And they made love all night. Gabrielle slipped in and out of her pleasurable daze, sometimes
cumming violently as he pounded her into the bed and sometimes drawing out her orgasm as he
teased it out of her with a slow grind. He used her, turned her this way and that. Fucked her with
him on top, then asked her to mount him as he slammed his hips into her pussy, stretching her twat
out deliciously. Then she was on her side, curling up as he sheathed himself in her vagina from
behind. Their bodies moulded against each other as he speared into her vagina, slowly pushing in
and out. His enormous shaft never left her tight, inhuman cunt that night.

Eventually, night gave way to dawn as sunlight filtered in through the curtained windows. And
Harry’s pace sped up for the umpteenth time. Gabrielle’s throat was raw from screaming and
squealing and groaning all night so she just panted as Harry pounded in and out of her for what
seemed like an entire lifetime of pleasure.

And then his balls pulsed against her ass and he dischargedspurt after spurt of semen into her
womb.

“I… love… you,” Gabrielle murmured as she fell asleep.

***

A few hours later

Harry sat on the couch, his head in his hands as he stared down at the floor in front of Bill and
Fleur.

He had gotten up that morning in mounting horror as he woke up next to Gabrielle. Crap, he
realized with a start, I just cheated on Ginny. Crap.

Sure, he had done Molly without Ginny’s knowledge – but Ginny had given her permission in
her mother’s case. The same applied to both Hermione and Fleur. But Harry just knew there was
no way in hell Ginny would ever have consented to him making love to an unattached veela.

He realized, with a sinking sensation, that he had utterly and completely lost control. He had done
stuff to Gabrielle’s magic… although, she did seem happy about that as she slept with a contented
smile beside him. He had acted on instinct he did not even know he possessed, forcing his
company on Bill and then banging his wife. Granted, Bill had given him permission, but Harry
was sure Bill had not planned on Harry banging his wife in the middle of their sitting room. And
then Harry had cheated on Bill’s sister with his sister-in-law.

Oh, crap, Harry thought again, what have I done?

And so, he was sat in front of a very confused, but thankfully dressed Bill and Fleur, ready to
apologize.

“Harry,” Bill said, “It’s okay. I asked you for this – and I really enjoyed it.”

Then Bill looked around confused at Fleur and then at Harry. “Although, I think I fainted in the
middle.”

Fleur just nodded and blushed. “Yes,” she said demurely, “You fainted. It didn’t go on for much
longer though.”

Bill just smiled and nodded as Harry gaped at Fleur. Oh it went on for much longer, he thought,
much much longer. Fleur was lying.

“Well, Harry,” Bill said, striding up to him, “It’s okay. I definitely want an encore, and I suppose
Fleur does too. So relax. You did not do anything I hadn’t asked for. This was a novel experience
for us, and it’s okay that you went a bit overboard. I enjoyed it.

“Now,” Bill continued, looking around at the clock above the hearth, “I have to go to office to
finish up some pesky paperwork.”

“Yeah,” Harry said morosely, as he got up, “I have to get back to the Burrow.”

Bill winked at him. “Awesome,” he said, “Let me just go get changed and we’ll leave by Floo.”
And Bill trudged upstairs. Harry smoothed his clothes as he looked nervously at a blushing Fleur.

“’Arry,” Fleur said, “Bill is right. It is okay.”

Harry just stared at her. She blushed again. “I did not mind,” she said, “I loved it. It was the best
night of my life. And if Bill accepts, you will be here again.” But then her eyes snapped up to
meet his. They narrowed, “Although,” she said, “I do not think I appreciate what you did with
Gabby.”
Harry just put his head in his hands again.

“But it is okay,” Fleur said and sighed, “Gabrielle has a powerful aura. Bill does not know why he
fainted, but I do. My ‘usband does not need to know. But she commanded him.”

Harry nodded.

“Just like she seduced you,” Fleur said decisively.

Harry stared at her, startled by her false deduction. He could see why she had arrived at that
conclusion, but it just was not true. He opened his mouth to protest, but Fleur continued, cutting
him off, “I am very disappointed in her, using her wiles like that. I shall see to it that she learns
what happened today was a mistake.

“I did not want Bill to know, and you don’t have to let Ginny know either,” Fleur said.

Oh, Fleur, Harry thought morosely, it’s convenient that you believe your sister controlled me. But
it’s inconvenient that I still have a conscience. And it’s inconvenient that I know for a fact that
your sister did not control me. I controlled HER. And then probably snapped her aura loose, from
what I remember.

But Harry just nodded. Bill descended down the stairs and they both went down the corridor and
into the Floo.

***

Hermione Granger was troubled. She was fast discovering that she had absolutely nothing in
common with her boyfriend. And they were growing further and further apart. The only time they
seemed to come together was at night, when she snuck into Ron’s room and he proceeded to try
and get her to “tell him how amazing Harry was” as he sat and masturbated in a corner.

It was sad. And utterly pathetic. She supposed some would tell her she had the best of both worlds
– a caring boyfriend who let her sleep with a gifted lover from time to time. Only, her boyfriend
wasn’t caring at all. He had forgotten all about Valentine’s Day and often tried to delight her with
his Quidditch exploits, or tales of Chudley Cannons matches.

He said he was going to be a Quidditch Keeper – a career trajectory she had no interest in
following. And she was slowly beginning to realize, from her single encounter with him earlier
last year that it would be easy to lean the other way. Easy to fall in love with her other best friend.
And as the days passed, more and more of her leaned towards that option.

Only, Harry had surprised her with how cold he had been after their phenomenal session of love-
making. No cuddling, no hugging, nothing. He called her beautiful and gorgeous and treated her
as if she was precious while he was making love to her, but then left her guzzling his cum on the
bed and just… left.

The problem was, Hermione could not tell apart romance and raw sex. They were one in her mind
– she was a die-hard romantic and could not imagine why she and Harry had truly connected
during their session if they did not love each other.

And she could not see why Ginny would let him do her, if the redhead loved him. Hermione had
flat out asked Ginny one day about the whole business, and Ginny had lightly told her Harry is
quite capable of telling apart love and sex. And that Hermione should feel lucky at securing the
attention of two men. Harry apparently loved Ginny. Hermione had been just sex.

That sent the bushy-haired girl into quite a rage. She stormed off and did not speak to Ginny for
days.

But it troubled her that Ginny could be right. Either way, Hermione was still with Ron… her mind
was not yet made up.

Although a part of Hermione did know her current relationship would not last. “And then,” she
murmured ominously, “It’s open season on Harry Potter.”

Ginny would rue the day she told Hermione the brown-haired bookworm was second in Harry’s
heart. In the meantime though, Hermione would take full advantage of Ginny’s permission to shag
Harry – she could not wait for Harry to return.

***

Gabrielle was amused by her sister’s vehemence. Her sister had entered her room only to receive a
face full of Gabrielle’s aura. Fleur just stood, slack-jawed, at the door as Gabrielle giggled. Then
her sister had snapped to attention and proceeded to scold Gabrielle for controlling Harry the
previous night.

As if she could control Harry Potter! Gabrielle thought incredulously. Harry had utterly and
completely dominated her, but more than that, while he had dominated her body, he had set her
spirit free. She was utterly his for just that. He had shown her a world of pleasure and unleashed
her transformation, all in a single night.

It was ridiculous how much power she sensed around him. And she wanted more of that – she
was addicted to that feeling of raw power. She had listened to her sister’s scolds and rants like a
good little veela, then smirked behind her sister’s back as Fleur left.

“Bitch,” Gabrielle snarled and then turned to the window. Fleur also saw fit to tell her that the
Weasleys would be having an Easter dinner soon, right before Gabrielle had to go back to
Beauxbatons. Gabrielle was to accompany them, but not engage with Harry at all.

But Gabrielle was free now. And with that freedom came an indomitable wish to pursue her
chosen mate. She had decided upon Harry Potter and would be damned if she didn’t at least try to
win his heart. First, though, Gabrielle had to confront Ginny Weasley.

***

Harry stood in the shower and just soaked in the sensation of warm, soothing droplets caressing
his skin. He cringed as he thought of Ginny’s reaction at his confession – he had come straight to
the Burrow and confessed to Ginny about Gabrielle.

And Ginny had utterly and completely blown her lid. The entire Burrow would have heard their
argument if it wasn’t for some quick wandwork on Harry’s part. Ginny screamed at him for nearly
half an hour and slammed her fists futilely against his chest in rage.

Harry discovered, almost with detached curiosity, that the horror that had possessed him all
morning – and had prompted him to confess to Ginny as well as apologize to Bill and Fleur – had
utterly and completely disappeared now. The Elder Wand had allowed him some respite, but was
now back, and he thought he knew why. The Elder Wand had screamed at him to soak himself in
blood and sex. And once he had engaged in the battle with the giants and then proceeded to shag
both Fleur and Gabrielle through the entire night, the Elder Wand had stopped trying to influence
him and his true feelings had returned.

Or so Harry thought. The truth was he did not know if he was the one in control any more. Was
the Elder Wand his master? Or was he the Wand’s master? Where did its influence end and his
true feelings begin? How had Dumbledore even kept the Elder Wand from influencing him? Was
there a way to stop it? Was there a way to tame it?

He needed answers. He wanted to be the one in control – the bloodlust was his to use, a tool to be
used as he saw fit.

Harry stepped out of the shower and into the guest bedroom of the Burrow (Ron and Hermione
were upstairs, and Harry had no wish to be persuaded into another weird shagging session),
draped in a towel and trying to come up with a plan of action to probe the secrets of the Elder
Wand when he was confronted by Ginny. And she was completely naked.

With a determined tilt of her chin, she strode right up to him and pulled the towel off his waist.
She proceeded to massage his penis with both hands.

“I was hurt, Harry,” Ginny said, looking straight into his eyes, “I want you to love only me. I
don’t care who you shag on the side, I want you to know I am yours. And you are mine. There is
no one else in your heart. I don’t want there to be anyone else.”

Harry nodded mutely.

“So,” Ginny continued, between kisses along the sides of his face and along his neck, “You’re
going to tell me exactly what the little veela fangirl did – every, single, dirty detail - and I’m going
to show you exactly why that little French slut isn’t worth your time.”

And she went down on her knees. Harry moaned as she suckled his penis.

Well, he thought, At least we’re not splitting up. I can always worry about the Elder Wand later.

***
 Reveller

Easter

The Weasleys were throwing a party. Of course, dinner would be an intimate affair, but
apparently, the after-party would be huge – after all, Arthur Weasley was the Deputy Minister of
Magic. Harry had lent a hand with some of the more spectacular constructs outside the Burrow.
The marquee that had been set up for Bill’s wedding was up again. An enormous hedge, at least
ten feet tall, lined the North facing edge of the marquee, with shelves constructed from leaves and
twigs built right into it holding chilled beverages. A long bar shelf stood along the hedge, with
several bar stools standing in front of it. It was an open bar, for the most part, but Charlie and
George would be on standby, just in case. The marquee itself had several tables and chairs for
guests to sit around and converse. Apparently, the Weasleys expected well over a hundred people
– extended family, colleagues and friends – to turn up.

Harry supposed it was new territory for the Weasleys – being the prominent Wizarding family, as
opposed to the Malfoys or the Parkinsons, who had apparently held such events in the past. And
so, he had spent most of the past week conjuring and constructing objects for the event. He had
tried to keep his magic low-key, but had attracted attention anyway when he managed to engorge
the small hedge the Weasleys had planted into the enormous wall of green it was right now.

Either way, while Harry would have been intimidated by the event in the past, he relished this
chance to meet prominent members of wizarding society and looked forward to dancing the
evening away with friends and those he could call family. He supposed part of it was because of
the Elder Wand – he knew most of it was simply because he wanted a chance to relax and
unwind.

However, the party with the open bar and the marquee was later at night. First on the agenda was
the traditional Weasley Family dinner – a much more intimate affair. Of course, with the
Weasleys, an “intimate family affair” still meant at least a dozen people would be in attendance.

And thus, Harry found himself in his current predicament. He had made his way to the dinner
table ten minutes late (Harry had put off searching for his formal robes for quite some time and
was unable to find them – he eventually had to settle for a shirt and slacks) only to find all of the
seats taken except for one. He had hoped to sit next to Ginny, if only to reassure her that their
relationship was still going strong, only to find the seats next to her taken. Ginny was seated along
the left side of the long wooden table that the Weasleys used for family dinners. His girlfriend sat
on the fourth chair from the head of the table. To her right was Ron; and to her left, much to
Harry’s consternation and her obvious ire – judging by her stormy expression – was Gabrielle
Delacour, looking absolutely radiant in a forest green outfit. Gabrielle winked at Harry as soon as
he came in, making him blush – her forest green dress was a not-so-subtle allusion to her
transformation during their torrid affair – and making Ginny give him a glare. Harry had no idea
what Gabrielle was playing at here, but he assumed he would pay for it later – hopefully with
another round of angry make-up sex with Ginny.

He stood awkwardly in the corner, trying to find a seat. Arthur was seated at the head of the table,
flanked by his oldest sons – Bill and Charlie. Percy and George came next. To George’s left, sat
Ron, who was talking animatedly with the surviving twin. Opposite Ron sat a tall, stunning
blonde woman with curly hair who Harry had seen only on Gladrags posters in Diagon Alley.
She was obviously the soon-to-be Audrey Weasley, the fiancée of Percy Weasley. However, her
beauty was marred by an ugly expression that reminded Harry of Narcissa Malfoy – she wore an
elitist frown on her face as she surveyed her surroundings, although the frown ceased whenever
she spoke with Fleur to her right. To Fleur’s right, sat Angelina Johnson – looking absolutely sexy
in a velvet gown that only served to accentuate her delicious chocolate skin. To Angelina’s right,
near the tail end of the table, sat Andromeda Tonks, who had obviously been invited for the
dinner – Harry felt a bit sad for her; she had lost practically all of her family in the way and had
come out remarkably strong, if only for her grandson. Hermione was seated right opposite
Andromeda, to Gabrielle’s left. Her bushy hair was now combed into lush brown waves and
Harry thought she looked as beautiful as Gabrielle – of course, Hermione was nowhere near as
voluptuous, but she looked wonderfully petite in her trademark periwinkle blue dress.

At the tail end of the table, right opposite Arthur and against the wall of the dining area, sat Molly
Weasley. And Harry had to gape at the Weasley matriarch – she was wearing a old-fashioned
beige ball gown, but what really caught his eye was the incredibly low cut of the neck. The /u-
shaped cut seemed to extend far, far beyond what Harry would consider legal, let alone
appropriate. Her enormous tits – the largest of all the women seated at the table – were practically
spilling out, and her cleavage seemed to go on forever. It was scandalous, but strangely enough,
apart from a brief glance, no one seemed to notice the outfit. However, Harry could tell he wasn’t
the only one that thought so – from Andromeda’s bemused glances at Molly, Harry could tell the
Tonks matriarch thought so as well. Nonetheless, he had to admit Molly did look the part of a
hostess – even if her look was more “come hither and fuck me” than “welcome to my house.”

And then Molly’s eyes snapped up to his. “Oh, you can sit here, Harry dear,” she said in a
melodious, husky voice. Harry gulped and looked at the seat she was pointing to – it was right at
the foot of the table as well, between Molly and Hermione. Numbly, Harry walked to his chair,
trying to ignore the glaring contest between Ginny and Gabrielle and plopped down. The table
was bustling with noise and chatter.

“Hey, ‘Mione,” he said to his best friend on his right and she smiled sweetly at him. “Molly, Mrs
Tonks,” he said as he greeted the women on his left, trying not to look at Molly’s deep cleavage.
But it was a futile effort and Harry just had to gaze upon that enticing valley – the dress she wore
practically drew attention there, and Harry felt his mouth go dry. For a moment, he had a sudden
urge to bury his face into the confines of her dress and lick all around that amazing cleavage, but
then he came to his senses and tore his eyes away. He was getting erect. He looked guiltily at his
girlfriend further up the table, but Ginny was too busy not trying to look in Gabrielle’s (and
therefore, his) direction so she had not even noticed him sneaking a peek at her mother’s breasts.

And just as he took his eyes of Molly’s breasts, he felt a hand creeping along his thigh. Sure
enough, it was Molly’s hand. Harry groaned inwardly. To think Ginny and I just reconciled, a
sarcastic voice whispered in his head. Molly lightly stroked his thigh as she continued to talk to
Andromeda, brushing her fingers right across, almost touching his crotch, and then scratching
lightly over his cotton pants as she brushed her palm back.

Tease, Harry thought grumpily as he hardened. Molly really knew how to work him. He glanced
briefly at the woman, and there was a naughty smile tugging at the corners of her lips, even as she
kept up a casual conversation with Andromeda. Harry looked away quickly, only to look straight
into Hermione’s warm brown eyes, and she was still smiling at him. God, Harry thought, as he
continued to harden in his pants, she looks gorgeous.

And then Hermione dropped her fork under the table with a clatter.

“Whoops” she said, and giggled at no one in particular. Harry just stared as she dove under the
table to retrieve it – her giggle had been incredibly fake, and while Harry had heard her giggle
before, she had never giggled like that. Then he felt an insistent tug on his pants and gasped. He
leant back and glanced under the table. Hermione had her wand pointed straight at his pants.

“’Mione, what…” he began to ask, then gasped again as his pants vanished in a flash. Followed
shortly by his boxers.

Oh, crap.

Harry was seated on the table, in front of fourteen other people, including his girlfriend, with only
a shirt on and entirely naked from the waist down. Luckily for him, his entire lower body was
covered by the dining table and it was extremely unlikely that anyone would venture near the tail
end of the table anyway. Most of the dishes were up front. However, there was one other person
seated at his end of the dining table – Molly Weasley – who had a hand on his thigh, now
suddenly naked. Hermione emerged from under the table and sat down with a smug smile.

Harry was bewildered. What was that for, he mouthed at Hermione and she just smiled back at
him.

Crap.

And before he could draw upon either of his wands to conjure a new set of pants, Molly glanced
in his direction as her hand made contact with naked skin. Harry looked helplessly at her. She had
a full view of his profile, seated next to him as she was, and her eyes widened comically when
they reached his waist.

She looked confusedly between Harry and his naked crotch, and weirdly (or perhaps
predictably), smiled at him. She leaned over to him, her enormous cleavage now right in his field
of vision as she whispered into his ear, “Oh, you naughty young pervert.”

Great, Harry thought, now Molly thinks I’m a pervert and vanished my own pants because she
was touching me.

He glanced at Hermione and noticed that the real pervert was looking resolutely away from him,
conversing with Andromeda across the table.

Molly was still whispering huskily in his ear, “Mummy’s going to teach this pervert a lesson in
manners. Mummy’s going to teach you how to behave at the dinner table.”

He hardened.

And then felt Molly’s right hand settle right on his crotch. She grabbed the base of his cock and
jerked her hand forward, tugging his penis. The tugging and pulling continued for a few seconds
until Harry was completely hard. His shaft had risen dramatically into the air. At roughly sixty
degrees, his cock head made contact with the underside of the wooden table – cool to the touch –
and it stopped Harry’s penis from popping up in full view of the dining guests.

Molly’s right hand was still stroking insistently along the top side of his shaft base. “Oh,” she
whispered, “The pervert is hard now, isn’t he? You like my hand stroking your big cock? You
like it when I jerk you off in full view of my sons and my clueless husband, Harry?”

Such a slut, Harry thought, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. God, he thought, I just want to push
this bitch on the table and drill her in front of everyone. But he supposed that would be
scandalous and would result in a considerable number of drawn wands. Sure, Arthur might
appreciate it, but he doubted any of the other Weasleys would. And Gabrielle was eying him up
like a piece of meat. Come to think of it, so was Hermione. And Harry had no idea why she just
vanished his pants. Is it some sort of weird prank? Revenge for what I did to her in front of Ron?

For a moment, Harry wondered if Molly and Hermione were working together – but then he
perished the thought. He knew Hermione and Molly were not necessarily the best of friends. And
they weren’t sharing any conspiratorial glances or remarks. They were definitely not working in
concert. He wondered if Hermione had even thought her actions through – he knew when it came
to breaking the rules, the bushy-haired Gryffindor always acted on impulse. He loved that
unpredictable quality about her, but that sort of behavior always had repercussions. Harry was
surprised Hermione hadn’t even thought of the chance that Molly would see him utterly naked
from the waist down.

Harry scooted closer to the dining table, until his abs were touching the edge of the table. His
entire naked waist was now completely under the table, well away from sight. Molly was still
jacking him off though, her right hand stroking back and forth along the lower half of his shaft.
She was actually moving back and forth a bit with the force of her strokes and her breasts were
actually bouncing ever so slightly. And then another hand tried to encircle the top of his shaft,
right at the bridge between his fat head and his shaft.

Harry glanced in Molly’s direction – she was still wearing a naughty smile, but her left hand was
on the table and her right was tugging at his cock. So who…?

And with not inconsiderable dread, Harry looked around. Hermione was looking straight at him,
her eyes wild and her delicate features looking positively delighted. Sure enough, her left shoulder
was moving back and forth.

Hermione was palming the underside of his crown, stroking and caressing the sensitive skin, even
as Molly gave him a rough tugjob around his base. Oh crap, Harry thought, as he moaned softly
at the double handjob, I’ve got two hot women giving me a handjob, and I don’t think they know
about each other. Crap.

And Harry did not think they would appreciate knowing about each other. While Molly would
probably shrug and accept it, Harry just knew Hermione did not quite play well with others. And
then, Hermione started stroking down his shaft. Her left palm pressed his cockhead up against the
cool wood along the underside of the dining table, and then pushed down, stretching his foreskin
deliciously as her palm travelled down the underside of his shaft.

Harry quickly pushed Molly’s arm away, just as Hermione reached the base of his cock. Molly
smirked at him and set her right hand on the table, as she took over Hermione’s conversation with
Andromeda. Hermione’s palm reached his base and then curved down to rest on his balls.
Hermione leaned in as she just lay her hand on his balls.

“My goodness, Harry,” Hermione said in a low voice that sent shivers up his spine, “These are
enormous.” She softly traced the curve of his right testicle with her fingernails and Harry hissed in
pleasure. “They’re the size of tennis balls.”

“Hermione,” Harry whispered frantically, “Molly is right here. She can see this.”

Hermione just smiled and her palm started ascending along the underside of his shaft. So smooth,
Harry thought as he shivered, her skin feels so soft.

Hermione’s fist curled around the base of his shaft. “My fingers don’t even touch!” she
proclaimed delightedly, although it could barely be heard over the bustle around the dinner table.
Dimly, Harry noticed that the Weasleys had started eating. Harry gingerly picked up his fork and
knife, but just couldn’t bring himself to start digging in. Hermione had started tugging at his cock
as well.

“Hermione,” Harry gasped, “Maybe you should start eating.”

Hermione continued to smile enigmatically at him. “Maybe,” she rejoined, “But I’d like some
seasoning.”
And then she pushed her right hand under the table. Harry had no idea where she was going with
this.

With her left hand still around the base of his shaft, she swung his shaft down. His head pulled
away from the underside of dining table and met what Harry realized was Hermione’s open right
palm with a slap. Then she pulled it up again with her grip around Harry’s base, and swung down
again so that his sensitive, fat cockhead smacked right onto her open palm for the second time. It
felt wonderful – if Hermione wanted to use Harry’s pole as a stick to smack her own palm, Harry
wasn’t complaining.

“You like that, Harry?” Hermione whispered to him, “You like the sound your fat, throbbing cock
makes as it smacks my hand?”

“Yes,” Harry moaned. He couldn’t believe how everyone at the table, including Molly Weasley
(who was still talking to Andromeda), was so oblivious to the action under the table. The smack-
smack-smack sound of Harry’s crown clapping against Hermione’s palm was now perfectly
audible, and Hermione’s arms were moving quite vigorously, but no one was paying them any
mind, engaged in loud conversations as they were.

Suddenly, just as his lower head laid yet another slap against Hermione’s tiny palm, she stopped.
And her right palm moved to caress his entire head. She was actually rubbing her palm back and
forth across his crown. Hermione moved both her hands off Harry’s cock and lifted them up over
the table. Without anything to hold it down, his meat sprang back up and met the dining table with
a loud thud.

That drew bewildered glances from Andromeda and even Angelina, to Andromeda’s left. Harry’s
face burned and Molly chuckled knowingly. After a moment, they went back to their
conversations. Harry looked askance at Hermione, who proudly displayed her right palm, which
his penis had been slapping until a few seconds ago. It was smeared with his pre-cum. Then she
licked it.

Harry gaped open-mouthed as Hermione licked her palm, and then her fingers, one after the other.
Harry was certain his rod was so hard now it could bench press the entire dining table now.
Hermione was smiling at him.

Okay, Harry thought, note to self: fuck the living daylights out of Hermione the next time I get the
chance. I’ll wipe that smile right off her beautiful face.

Hermione leaned in and whispered huskily, “It’s your fault you know. You left me gargling your
semen the last time around. And now, I’m addicted to the taste.”

Just then, Harry felt a different hand settle on his cock. With shorter fingers, but larger than
Hermione’s tiny hands. Molly again, Harry thought, great, they’re double-teaming me without
even realizing they’re double-teaming me.

As Hermione moved away to eat her meal, Molly leaned in. “You shouldn’t jerk yourself off at
the dining table, Harry. It tends to disturb the table.”

She paused and giggled. “In fact,” she said softly, mirth filling her voice, “You should let willing
hands help. And stop pushing them away.”

And so, Molly started stroking up and down his shaft. Her fingers and palms caressed every inch
of his cock as she circled around, sometimes dragging her fingernails across the sensitive
underside, caressing and stroking his pole.
Harry moaned again. And Molly continued to beat him off with her right as she chattered away
with Andromeda.

***

Gabrielle glanced at Harry often, much to his girlfriend’s annoyance, studying his features. Harry
appeared to be a bit glassy-eyed and was staring off into space. Poor man, Gabrielle thought, he
must feel so lonely in that corner of the table.

She knew he had noticed her as she came in – every other Weasley male at the table looked in her
direction often, their faces going slack before regaining their senses moments later, much to
Gabrielle’s own irritation – but Harry wasn’t looking at her. Hermione Granger – who was
looking very pretty, in Gabrielle’s opinion – and Molly Weasley – wearing an utterly scandalous
outfit for a woman her age (and those huge cow-tits, Gabrielle thought nastily) – leant in to
whisper stuff to him occasionally, but he just wasn’t responding.

She sent a burst of aura in his direction, but it splashed uselessly against his wall of power.
Gabrielle tensed at the feeling, expecting Harry to latch on and give her a rush again, but he did
not. He seemed pre-occupied. Gabrielle huffed – she was determined to speak to him at the after-
party. Perhaps it was a stupid idea to take his seat, she thought. She just had not wanted him to sit
next to Ginny Weasley; instead, she was hoping he would take the seat next to her. Instead,
Hermione Granger had taken the seat and her plan had been foiled.

Gabrielle turned around, her aura twanging as it retreated back into her body. That was when she
noticed Ginny Weasley. The redhead was now staring at Gabrielle – not in anger, as she was
earlier – but in… awe. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily as she just gazed at
Gabrielle. Ginny’s eyes travelled down from Gabrielle’s eyes, to her lips, down to the nape of her
neck, and then further down…

Gabrielle frowned – while she had thrown her aura at Harry, a portion of it had obviously flung
out in Ginny’s direction as well, seeing as how the redhead was seated right next to her. She knew
her aura had an effect on men, but not many women had acted like this when engulfed by it.

Gabrielle looked around the table carefully – especially in Harry’s direction. She had swung her
aura that way, so Hermione and Molly should have been affected too. But neither Hermione –
who was primly eating her meal – nor Molly, who was whispering in Harry’s ear, much to
Gabrielle’s annoyance, was even looking in her direction.

But Ginny was still staring at her with that strange look on her face. Gabrielle did a quick mental
check of the women who she had noticed being affected by her aura. She could only think of two
women – Professor Valreau at school and Ginny. And perhaps, Fleur.

What’s the connecting thread here? Gabrielle thought.

And then it struck her. Professor Valreau was married to a certain Mademoiselle Robitaille. And
Fleur had told Gabrielle that she had experimented with women several times and enjoyed the sex.
And when Gabrielle thought of it, the veela her mother introduced her to had always said her aura
was particularly enthralling. Gabrielle knew veela – including her – swung both ways.

And so does Ginny.

Gabrielle smiled in triumph.She gazed critically at Ginny and casually noticed that the redhead
was very attractive – with her busty figure and amazing ass. Oh, Gabrielle thought, I’m going to
enjoy this.
Gabrielle leaned in and whispered to Ginny, “Like what you see, darling?”

Ginny shook her head as if trying to get water out of her ears. And then she seemed to snap out of
her daze and snarled, “You wish, you little slut.”

“So,” Gabrielle continued conversationally, “Does Harry know his little witch is occasionally
attracted to other witches?”

“You little…”

“I was wondering why you let him sleep around with Fleur, of all people. Did you ask him for
details later?” Gabrielle was so close to Ginny that their lips were almost touching. Ginny was
breathing heavily again and her face was flushed, “Did you ask him how tight her vagina was?
How amazing fucking Fleur felt like? Did you ask him for all that?”

Ginny blushed. Gabrielle smiled.

“Or did you ask about me?”

Ginny flushed even harder – her ears were turning red now.

“You’re just trying to live vicariously through Harry, aren’t you?”

Ginny’s eyes flashed. “I’m definitely attracted to guys, you little…”

“Oh,” Gabrielle interrupted, “I’m not disputing that. I’m just wondering if you are also attracted to
girls.”

Ginny looked away.

“You are,” Gabrielle crowed, “Well, if you ever want to test that attraction, I’m available.”

Ginny glanced defiantly at Gabrielle. “And you’d want my boyfriend in return, wouldn’t you?”
she asked with false sweetness.

Gabrielle nodded.

“Keep dreaming,” Ginny snarled, and continued munching on her chicken. Gabrielle just smiled.

Just you wait, she thought, Oh, you’ll bend. I am a veela, after all. And you’re no Harry Potter.

Now, Gabrielle just had to ask Harry for permission to start assimilating into his little ménage a
trois so that she could seduce the hell out of Ginny. She couldn’t compete with Harry, and did not
want to – she wanted him much more than she wanted Ginny – but she was pretty sure she wasn’t
opposed to showing the redhead a thing or two about gentle feminine caresses.

Oh, she’ll bend.

***

Molly was squeezing his balls lightly, pushing her palm under one testicle, weighing it, then
palming the other. Meanwhile, Hermione’s tiny hands had returned to massaging all over his
cockhead; she was palming and squeezing and pinching away as she pleased. Her soft palms
pushed his sensitive bulb this way and that, until he was oozing dollops of pre-cum over her
fingers.

Harry was determinedly shoveling food into his mouth with shaking fingers. Andromeda had
actually asked him if he was okay, and he had mumbled something in return. The two women
seated on either side of him were using his cock like a toy, tugging and pulling and stroking away
like it belonged to them. Harry supposed it was karmic payback of sorts – they were using him as
he used them in the past – but it was such heavenly torture. And it was ridiculous that the two
women didn’t even know they were sharing the toy.

Molly whispered stuff like, “Your willy is so huge Harry!” and “Oh, I can’t wait to feel this
monstrous thing stuffing me silly again!”

And Hermione whispered stuff like, “Wouldn’t you like to have this cock fucking my tight cunt
again, Harry?” and “Do you want to feel my lips wrapping across your enormous cock, Harry?
Will it even fit?”

And it was turning him on. Harry had never thought a double handjob could feel so good… well,
he had, but this matched his expectations and exceeded them.

Then, Hermione, of all people – she was the least experienced woman Harry had slept with – took
it to a wholly different level. With, one hand, she gripped the bottom of his mushroom cockhead
and laid the flat palm of her other hand straight on his piss-slit. And she started pushing his head
with her hand right against her palm so that his sensitive urethral opening was grinding against her
flat palm. She twisted the crown all over the place as she polished the tip of his cock with her palm
and it felt amazing.

And then she moved her palm off, only to grip the tip with her fingers. And then started
massaging the edge of his piss-slit with what Harry presumed was her forefinger. Molly was still
massaging and stroking his balls.

The most erotic part was that all of the action was happening under the table – Harry couldn’t see
what Hermione was doing to his cock, but he sure as hell could feel it. And then, Hermione started
pressing down as she circled his penile meatus with her slender finger.

No way, Harry thought incredulously, no way she’s going that far…

Hermione pushed down with her finger, right against his eye. He was practically oozing pre-cum
over her finger now, but her finger seemed to be pushing back in. And then it sank in. Her finger
actually pressed into his urethral opening and Harry moaned softly. Fuck, Harry thought, that
feels… fuck!

He gazed in astonishment at Hermione – she was driving him crazy. The girl was biting her lower
lip in an incredibly sexy fashion, just looking at him as her eyes brimmed with lust.

And then a third of her finger sank right into his slit, and the sensitive skin hugged her slender
finger.

She twisted her finger, pulling at the inside of his cock, and pushed it so that his inner skin
stretched and he hissed out in pleasure.

“Oh,” Hermione whispered hotly, “You like that? You like me fucking your giant penis with my
little finger? You like me molesting your eye, you bastard?”

Harry was squirming in his seat now. Molly was squeezing even harder on his balls. In a daze, he
noticed that Molly was smiling at him.

It’s not you, Harry thought, It’s this insane best friend on my other side.

After a full minute of fingering inside his penis – with Harry squirming and moaning and looking
at his food with dazed eyes – Hermione withdrew it, slowly, teasingly, millimeter by millimeter.
Until it finally popped out of his cock and Harry shuddered in place.

And Harry stared, stunned by the sweet torture, as Hermione raised her finger to her lips. It was
practically soaked with his lubrication and she slurped on it with a grin. “Oh, I love this
seasoning!” Hermione said happily, and Harry groaned.

Just like that, the dinner was over. Arthur announced something that sounded like “Time for a
party!” to his sons and Harry barely even registered it. He was horny as hell.

And then, Molly’s hands left his balls and he gasped. Everyone at the table stood up and shuffled
out of the hall as Harry just sat and gaped. Ron snatched a leftover chicken leg and munched on it
as he walked out with the rest of the table. And just as most of the dinner guests had moved out,
Harry began to hear cracks of apparition outside.

Great, he thought, it’s time for the after-party.

Ron paused at the door and looked back at Hermione and Harry, who were still seated at the table.

“You guys coming?” he asked.

Harry cringed at the unintentional double entendre. “No,” he said grumpily.

“Of course, Ron,” Hermione answered warmly, speaking over Harry, “I just have to finish my
soufflé.” And she held up a glass bowl, which sure enough, had soufflé in it.

Ron shrugged, munched on his chicken and walked out. More cracks of apparition echoed outside
and the Weasley courtyard bustled with the noise of the arriving guests.

When everyone, including Molly Weasley, had left – with Molly swaying her amazing ass
seductively at him, winking as she moved out - Harry stood up angrily, holding onto his erect
cock and slamming it on the table.

“It looks so angry,” Hermione said, laughing.

“You… you…” Harry was so desperate for relief right now that he had no idea what to say.

And Hermione poured the remainder of her soufflé on the tip of his cock – it was mostly just tiny
chunks and custard, which drizzled over his cock. Harry just gaped as the bushy-haired witch
lifted his cock with both hands, angled it over her plate so that it was dripping custardand pushed
her lips against his crown in an open-mouthed kiss. Her wet tongue licked pleasant circles around
his head and her cheeks caved inwards as she sucked hard on his dome with her lips stretched
impossibly wide. After a few seconds, she withdrew, her lips pulling at his bulbous tip as she
withdrew with a loud slurp.

And then she just let go. His erect cock bounced angrily onto the table again.

Hermione got up, smoothed her dress and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked, bewildered and horny.

She turned to him a smiled naughtily again. Her eyes were gleaming with humor. “I really just had
to finish the soufflé”, she said, then winked at him and left the hall.

Harry was positive he had just been blue-balled for the first time.
That woman, he thought as he just stood there with an erect penis, she’s going to drive me crazy.

Nonetheless, through his haze of lust, Harry did notice a warm feeling bubbling in his chest – very
similar to the one he felt around Ginny. Crap, he thought, I think I’m falling in love. Again.

***

Gabrielle loved this powerful feeling. She was letting her aura flare around Ginny, and the
redheaded witch fell for it every single time. Gabrielle would fling her aura, looping it around
Ginny’s magic and pulling and Harry’s girlfriend just turned and drooled at her every time she did
that.

And Ginny was trying to stay as far away as possible, mixing in with the crowd, but Gabrielle
delighted in not letting her have any peace.

Eventually, Ginny retreated into a secluded corner, outside the marquee where there were no
guests milling around. Perfect, Gabrielle thought, she’s playing right into my hands.

Gabrielle walked around the tent casually and pounced on Ginny as soon as she was within reach,
who was facing away from her.

She pushed Ginny right against the stiff sheet of the tent. They could hear the sounds of the party
starting up on the other side, but there was no one on their side of the tent. Ginny struggled, but
the human witch was no match for Gabrielle’s inhuman strength. Gabrielle raised Ginny’s wrists
high above her head and pushed her left leg right between Ginny’s thighs so that Ginny’s legs
were locked in place around her own.

Ginny’s massive D-cups were pushing against Gabrielle’s smaller C-cups and Gabrielle could feel
the redhead’s nipples poking against her own even through their clothes.

“Not wearing much underneath, are we?” Gabrielle crooned.

“Neither are you,” Ginny snarled back, her face flushed.

Gabrielle started grinding her thigh back and forth between Ginny’s legs, right against the witch’s
crotch. Ginny moaned and then looked away. Gabrielle softly leaned in and kissed the cheek
facing away from her, inhaling Ginny’s sweet rosy scent.

And Gabrielle started trailing soft kisses down Ginny’s neck as the redhead squirmed and gasped.
Just as the veela reached the crook of Ginny’s neck, Gabrielle pulled away just as suddenly as she
had pounced. She let go of Ginny’s hands and the witch slumped against the tent, her heaving
bosom and flushed skin signs of her obvious arousal.

Gabrielle smiled at Ginny.

“Oh, Ginny,” Gabrielle said, “Just agree with me and spare yourself this torture.”

“Never,” Ginny gasped.

Gabrielle shrugged and started walking back to the main party. Just as she rounded the corner, she
looked over her shoulder at Ginny, who was still slumped against the tent and said, “Don’t worry,
mon amour. I have to go back to Beauxbatons tomorrow, but you shall see me soon. And next
time, I’m joining your relationship with Harry, whether you want it, or not.”

***
Harry desperately searched for Ginny – he needed some relief, and he needed it now. But his
girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. Harry was rushing through the crowd, greeting people hazily
as he kept one hand firmly on his crotch, trying to angle his clothed penis down so that no one
would see the very obvious tent down his right trouser leg.

When he saw that Ginny was nowhere to be found, he started looking around for the women
Ginny had given permission for him to be with. Hermione, annoyingly enough, was chatting
away happily with Angelina and Katie, who Harry was surprised to see at the party. He supposed
Angelina had invited her over.

Fleur, on the other hand, was dancing happily with Bill and Harry had no desire to rain on their
parade a second time around, even if the couple claimed they enjoyed it the first time.

Molly, Harry thought desperately, as he looked around, please, please…

He spotted Arthur, who was engaged in what appeared to be a very serious conversation with the
Minister of Magic and a dignified woman Harry could not place. Truth be told, he was amazed at
the turnout for the party – it was a sign of the times to come; the Weasleys seemed to be the
premier family in English Wizarding Society at the moment. All of the prominent families seemed
to be there – the Longbottoms, the Lovegoods and the MacMillans. Several higher ranking
officials from the Ministry of Magic were roaming around sipping wine. He even spotted some of
the less savory families skulking around – the Zabinis and the Greengrasses, for instance.

Harry stumbled through the crowd, still searching for someone, anyone to please him.

The problem being influenced by the Elder Wand, Harry thought angrily, is that you never get
relief from masturbating by yourself. Dammit.

And then he spotted Molly. She seemed to be well away from the crowd, sitting at the edge of the
open bar with a thoughtful look on her face, surveying the party with a proud smile. She seemed
to be basking in the occasion. Holy crap, Harry thought, she looks like a million bucks. I’m
surprised no one has asked her to dance.

But he was glad. She was sitting in a conveniently dark corner of the bar-shelf, on a stool right
against the hedge. He would never have spotted her if he wasn’t specifically looking for her.

He skipped towards Molly and circled around the bar so that he was approaching the Weasley
matriarch from behind, along the hedge. That barstool is so tiny, he thought incredulously as he
approached the darkened corner from where the woman was surveying her guests, her ass is
spilling all over the place. Good god, I love that ass.

Harry eventually snuck up right behind Molly, but she was unaware of his presence and continued
to observe the crowd. Harry briefly surveyed the crowd as well – no one was looking in their
direction. The nearest person was an elderly witch – but she was a few meters to their left and was
snoring away, slumped over the bar shelf. And either way, Harry was standing in the pitch black
space behind Molly, so while someone could make his silhouette out, they wouldn’t be able to
spot what he was doing unless they came really close.

So Harry dropped his pants and stepped over them. His penis sprang out, begging for some action.
And Harry obliged – he grabbed his cock, went over to Molly and started tapping against her
pillowy ass with his penis. Her ass started bouncing delightfully with each smack of his cock.

Molly gave an eep of surprise and turned around, only to notice Harry. She relaxed, and her eyes
travelled down his body, only to widen as she saw him tapping her ass with his meat.
“Harry,” she hissed, “What are you doing? All these people…”

Harry pushed his cock against her ass, loving the feeling of her clothed backside melt against his
cock and Molly squealed. He slapped his hands around her front, grabbing her tits and shaking
them with his hands as he watched her cleavage bounce.

“Didn’t bother you at the dining table, did it, Molly?” Harry asked harshly.

Molly blushed.

“Now,” Harry said harshly, “Let’s finish what you started.”

He pulled Molly back so that most of her gorgeous ass was pushing into him – Molly reached out
behind her and grabbed his hips in surprise, leaning her back against his chest with her thighs still
on the stool. Harry then stopped mauling her clothed breasts and flicked his wrist so that his
phoenix feather wand, previously holstered to his forearm, appeared in his hand. He pointed the
wand right underneath her ass and her gown tore as a long, vertical slit appeared in the dress
underneath her buttocks. She was still in a sitting position, so practically no one in front of her
could see it.

“Harry!” Molly squealed again, “This dress is expensive!”

“Don’t particularly care at the moment,” Harry said nonchalantly as he swiped his cock down her
fleshy cheeks so that it was now horizontal underneath her, pressing upwards. He bent his knees
and angled his cock up, pushing it through the tear in her gown so that his head smushed against
her naked ass. He prodded around her rump with his cock, trying to find her pussy. And
eventually, he did.

Molly was still only half-wet at this point, so she gasped as his fat head parted her hanging outer
lips as it tried to bury into her twat.

“Harry,” she panted, “The others… they’ll see…”

“Don’t care,” Harry said abruptly, twisting his hips so that his cock snuggled further up her pussy.
His head burst past her lips and Molly screamed softly.

“You pervert!” she exhaled. Her vagina seemed to be working overtime as it started pumping out
juices at Harry’s welcome invasion, “Everyone’s going to think I’m a slut!”

“Aren’t you?” Harry rejoined and slammed up so that half his cock was buried in her quim. “You
did tease me and use this cock at dinner, you know. Right in front of your family.”

Molly half-chuckled, half-gasped. “I suppose,” she admitted, “But I guess that makes me your
slut.”

Harry gave another might push and his balls clapped against her ass as his entire cock smashed
into her now sufficiently wet vagina. Molly pushed her back further against him, squishing her
rump against his crotch. She turned her face sideways and Harry noticed that her cheeks were
flush and her eyes looked wild.

“Did mummy make this naughty boy horny?” she asked sultrily. “Did mummy turn her naughty
little pervert on?”

“Yep,” Harry said, as her pussy clung to his shaft. He started rotating his hips, grinding into her
now-gushing twat.
“Mummy is so sorry,” Molly gasped out, “How can she make up for it, hmm?”

Harry started pushing in and out with his hands on either side of her hips, holding her in place as
he started fucking her.

“Oh, Morgana!” Molly groaned, “I… never… get used… to this… fuck… size!”

“I don’t intend to keep to this pace forever,” Harry said and started moving his hips much more
rapidly, slamming in and out of her cunt.

Molly bent forward on the stool, now smushing her breasts against the bar shelf as she
moaned.,“You brute! You bastard!”

“You’re one sexy Mommy!” Harry said happily as he felt her cunt begin to quiver around his
shaft. He couldn’t see the penetration from his position behind her, but his cock was coming away
slick with her arousal, so he knew she loved this as well. “And to think you were against this a
few minutes ago.”

He imitated her voice, “Oh, Harry, everyone’s going to see us!” and then crowed, “Look at you
now!”

Harry then tightened his grip on her hips and bent his knees so that his cock pulled out until only
the head remained in her wet quim. Then jumped up and his cock slammed deep into her pussy
even as his feet left into the ground. Molly actually jerked forward as his cockhead bashed her
cervix and then settled down again as Harry landed.

“Harry, you… you… fuck!” Molly moaned in reply.

Harry was now practically jump-thrusting into her pussy (he laughed at the word he just made up)
now, sheathing his rigid cock spectacularly into her cunt each time. He loved the feeling – he
actually floated for a second as he parted her entire clinging passage with his cock.

And on his tenth jump, the barstool actually keeled over and fell. Molly clutched the shelf in
desperation as her feet landed on the ground and Harry, unconcerned, just kept slamming in. She
was now bent over the shelf like a whore, her clothed backside slapping against Harry’s mid-
section as he hammered home over and over.

“Now this is more like it!” Harry said happily. He started pistoning into her, doubling his pace
effortlessly. Molly started shuddering against the shelf, her chest was now right on it as she
scratched at the tiled surface.

“Hey Molly!” a female voice called out to their right.

***

Molly tried to look around, but Harry kept slamming in and out. “Harry,” she gasped,
“Someone…”

“Molly!” the voice said again quite happily and practically right beside her now, “Whatshoo
doing?”

“Mrs. Tonks!” Harry’s voice said happily, much to Molly’s incredulity. She panted and gushed as
he kept pounding into her. Molly wanted to push the brute away, but she couldn’t move. His cock
was pulverizing her cunt now, and it felt heavenly.

She heard a barstool scrape across the ground. Then Andromeda’s flushed face swam into her
view, as Andromeda bent over the shelf right beside Molly. “HEY!” Andromeda said happily,
“HOWSH MY MOLLY!”

Molly smelt the overpowering scent of alcohol issue from Andromeda’s mouth. “You’re…
drunk!” she panted.

“Thanks for shielding us from the crowd, Mrs. Tonks!” Harry said, in between the muffled slaps
that he was making as he pounded her from behind.

Through her lust-crazed haze, Molly noticed Andromeda look immensely confused. “Whatshoo
two doing?” she asked, her voice now slurred. She was completely sloshed.

“Playing a game,” Harry said and just kept fucking.

Andromeda leaned in to whisper into Molly’s ear. “If you squint just right,” she giggled, “You can
see Harry’s arse! Itsh sho tight!”

Of course you can see his arse, Andromeda, Molly thought incredulously, He’s naked from the
waist down and fucking my cunt as we speak!

And Molly felt Harry’s fingers dig into her ass. Oh no, Molly thought at the familiar grip, he’s
going to speed up!

Harry’s pace nearly quadrupled – he was pushing her into the shelf now as he slammed in and out
of her pussy like a maniac. He seemed to be touching and fucking her entire insides at once,
destroying her vagina so thoroughly that only he could ever use it later. She dimly heard
Andromeda chatter away about something inane, and she did not care.

“Oh, oh OH OH OH!” she screamed, each “oh” growing louder and louder. If it wasn’t for the
fact that the music was playing so loudly at the main tent, everyone would have heard her
moaning like a bitch by now. And then sparksseemed to shoot up and down her entire body and
she shuddered.

“Squirting again!” Harry gloated just as Molly yelled “Cumming!”

And before she had even stopped squirting, Harry unloaded. He buried his penis in her cock-
hungry tunnel as his head lay right at her cervical opening and streams of semen shot right into her
even as her orgasm seemed to go on and on.

***

Harry mauled her ass as they both came down from their respective highs. Harry eventually
stopped squirting after what seemed like an hour of pleasure to her, although it had only been a
few minutes since his orgasm began. Molly was quivering pleasantly, still feeling the aftershocks
of her orgasm and sighed as Harry’s cock slid out her tight passage. He slapped his slick cock
down on her bent over ass and wiped it on her dress, leaving a wet splatter of their combined
juices on her gown.

“Everyone’s going to see this and they’re going to know the hostess was fucked silly,” Harry said
happily.

Molly pushed herself off the shelf, wearily and turned her face to him. Harry kissed her gently.

Then they drew off each other and looked around curiously. Apart from Andromeda, who was
now slumped over the bench and snoring, no one had seen them.
“Well, that was a bit of good luck,” Harry said and Molly nodded mutely. He summoned his
pants, put them on and walked right into the crowd as Molly merely sat beside a sleeping
Andromeda, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

***

Harry danced and talked the night away. He spent a lot of time just talking to Aurors and officials
from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, trying to make inroads into the Ministry even
before he graduated from Hogwarts. He studiously avoided Xenophilius Lovegood as the man
tried to ask him about the Hallows. Although, he did stop to talk to Luna and other students from
Hogwarts that had come to the party.

Surprisingly though, most of his dances had been with Gabrielle and Hermione. He looked around
for Ginny, but she just sat in a corner and glared at Gabrielle.

At his seventh turn with Gabrielle, Harry finally snapped and asked, “So what did you do?”

Gabrielle looked innocently at him and Harry gave her a flat glare. She giggled. “Just trying to
persuade your girlfriend to let me join your relationship,” she said happily.

Harry just stared. After a while, he murmured, “Gabrielle, it takes more than a bit of sex to form a
relationship.”

“Indeed,” Gabrielle said as they twirled around, “And I feel it.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Gabrielle hugged him tighter as she continued to spin with
him. “’Arry,” she said firmly, “I know you don’t love me yet, but I do. I just… know, myself. You
helped me transform. We made love for an entire night. And we connected. My magic touched
yours. We connected on a level far deeper than the bond you share with your girlfriend.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah,” he admitted, “I suppose that’s true. But I’m not letting go of Ginny.”

“I know,” Gabrielle said and smirked, “Which is why I am trying to persuade the stubborn girl. I
need your permission though.”

“My permission?” Harry asked, puzzled. After a beat, he continued, “Wait… how, exactly, are
you trying to… persuade… her?”

“I’m seducing her, of course,” Gabrielle replied immediately.

Harry gaped. “You’re… uh…”

“You do know your girlfriend is bisexual, don’t you?” Gabrielle asked.

Harry continued to gape and the half-veela sighed. “Oh,” she said meekly, “Well, she is attracted
to women. Don’t get me wrong – she’s also attracted to men… and especially you. And I’m not
competing with you. I’m just trying to persuade her so I can be with you.”

Harry was stunned at her bluntness. “So… you want to make this… some kind of true ménage a
trois?” he asked. She nodded.

“Fine,” he said, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sure… I guess you could… uh… work on
Ginny if she’s open to a third person in the relationship.”

Gabrielle smiled and kissed his cheek with a naughty smile. Then she let go of him and sauntered
away, her lustrous hair shimmering as she walked towards her parents, who were at a table
nearby. Harry stared after her. I’d have to be crazy to say no, he thought happily.

***

His conversation with Hermione was far more enlightening, despite its short length.

“So, uh, the thing at the dinner table,” Harry began and Hermione just raised an eyebrow as she
sipped a butterbeer across the table. They were in a corner of the tent, away from prying ears. By
now, he had taken her around the dance floor several times. Ron was dancing and laughing with
Padma Patil, but the surprising thing was – Hermione wasn’t even looking.

“Just a prank, Harry,” Hermione said and giggled, “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Not that
panties will fit around that monster anyway.”

“Hermione!” Harry said, “I… Ron… are you going to tell him?”

Hermione sighed and looked away. “No,” she said.

“Then…” Harry prodded.

“Harry,” she said, looking straight into his eyes, “I don’t think I’m in love with…”

She trailed away and Harry stared, completely taken aback.

“… Ron?” he finished for her.

She nodded. Then she got up, face entirely flushed and practically ran out of the tent.

Harry was about to follow her, but then Ginny came by and cornered him.

“What did that little French whore say to you?” she demanded.

Harry kept his face studiously blank. “Nothing”, he said quickly. Too quickly, he thought and
cringed.

Ginny just huffed and held out her hand. Harry smiled, held her hand and got up, heading out to
the dance floor with her.

“Harry,” Ginny said suddenly, “Promise me… I’ll always be your last dance.”

Harry just kissed her worried face and said, “If you so desire it, love, you can keep me all to
yourself forever.”

Ginny blushed and smiled. Merlin, Harry thought, she’s beautiful.

“Well,” she said, “I don’t care if you… dance… with others, as long as you keep saying things
like that to me.”

Harry grinned, then hugged her close to him as they started twirling around in tune with the music.

***
 Actor

Diagon Alley, in July

A chime sounded just as Harry opened the door to enter Ollivander’s abode. As always, the old
wandmaker emerged from the shadows to greet him.

“Ah, Harry Potter,” Ollivander said, “Welcome.”

“Sir,” Harry greeted with a nod of his head. The old man looked as serene as ever – the last time
Harry had seen him, Ollivander had endured quite an ordeal trapped in Malfoy Manor to be
interrogated by Voldemort – he had been utterly disheveled and frightened.

“I hope you’re doing well, sir,” Harry said.

“Indeed, Harry Potter,” Ollivander replied, “Thanks, in part, to you.”

“I wish I’d gotten there sooner,” Harry said sincerely.

Ollivander waved him off. “You know what they say about being late, Mister Potter,” he said,
“Better than never. Spare yourself the worry, Mister Potter – I’m in fine shape for a man my age.”

“Of course,” Harry said.

“So, Mister Potter,” Ollivander said, “What can I do for you today? I do hope that marvelous
wand of yours is still in working order.”

Harry pulled out his phoenix feather wand. “Yeah,” he said, “It is. I’m actually here because I
needed… uh… do you make holsters? The one I have is an inherited one from the late Mrs
Tonks-Lupin. I was just wondering…”

“I do make wand holsters, Mr Potter,” Ollivander said, “I would be a poor wandmaker if I did not.
I even make ones laced with charms that are designed to defend against disarming curses and
summoning charms.”

“Could I see them?” Harry asked.

Ollivander nodded and waved his wand. A whole set of leather holsters made their way over to
the counter from parts unknown. Harry started inspecting them, one after the other.

“Doing a bit of early shopping, Mr Potter?” Ollivander asked him curiously.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “The Hogwarts book lists are out. Figured I’d come here early and do some
shopping before the back-to-school crowds start moving in.”

“A wise plan,” Ollivander said with a nod.

“Well, that,” Harry said awkwardly, “And I just wanted to keep away from the… er… media.”

“Ah, the burden of celebrity,” Ollivander said with a humorous edge, “So the Weasleys are not
here?”

Harry shook his head, as he inspected a particularly attractive black holster. “No,” he said, “The
Weasleys – bless them – are always a wee bit late when it comes to stuff like this. Just thought I’d
come in by myself. I go to muggle London quite often – just thought I’d do some shopping on the
way back.”

Harry took put the black holster down. After all, he thought, I’m not really here to shop for
holsters. He was here to try and determine if Ollivander could help him with his specific problem.
But he couldn’t go about asking the wandmaker directly – he had to do it in subtle, roundabout
fashion.

“Actually,” Harry said, “Sir, I wanted to ask you about… wands.”

“Ah, wand lore,” Ollivander said, clasping his hands together, “Always a pleasure discussing that
fascinating subject with you, Mister Potter. I believe the last time we discussed wands was when
you asked me about that fascinating Gregorovitch creation the Dark Lord tried to wield.”

Harry nodded.

“I wonder what happened to that spectacular wand,” Ollivander mused.

“It was Dumbledore’s,” Harry said, “Well, Dumbledore’s wand by way of Grindelwald.”

“Of course,” Ollivander said, “Do you know what became of it?”

“It turned to dust when I… finished… Voldemort,” Harry lied without skipping a beat.

“A pity,” Ollivander said, “I would have paid a fortune to study that wand.”

“Actually,” Harry said, and brandished a second wand in his other hand, “It was this wand I
needed to talk to you about.”

“One of mine,” Ollivander said, peering at the stick, “Hawthorne and unicorn core. A wand that
once belonged to Draco Malfoy – a fugitive now, of course.”

“I… disarmed him and won it for myself,” Harry said, “When we escaped Malfoy Manor.”

“Ah, of course,” Ollivander rejoined.

“Well, the thing is – I just want to know if the wand can… influence… me in some way,” Harry
said in a rush, “I mean… Draco Malfoy was not exactly a… nice wizard. And I don’t want his
wand to make me… different.”

Ollivander smiled. “You believe the wand is influencing you, Mr Potter?”

Harry pretended to frown and think. “It might be. I mean, I have behaved a bit terribly while
wielding it. And you seemed to think wands have memories, sir… at least you said so the last time
we met. So I was just…”

Ollivander interrupted him, “Mr Potter, I never said a wand has memories. I said it has a sense of
ownership. A wand lends what allegiance it can to the man who wins it through combat. But it
shall never work as well for its conqueror as it does for its owner.”

Harry nodded. “But,” he prompted, “Can a wand influence its… conqueror?”

Ollivander chuckled. “Mr Potter,” he said in an indulgent tone, “A wand does not live. It does not
have a mind. No wand that I know of is capable of influence, just as it is not capable of thought. It
is a tool – a phenomenal tool that has a peculiar sense of magic and that can channel magic – but a
tool nonetheless. It takes great skill to make one, just as it takes great skill to wield one in grand
fashion, but I am not vain enough to allege that a mere wand is capable of self-awareness.”

Harry sighed. “Well, sir,” he said, “That’s a relief. I did not want… I just wanted to know that
Draco’s wand was not having some sort of weird effect on my mind.”

Ollivander smiled. Harry grinned right back and pocketed both wands. He picked up the black
holster, paid for it, thanked the elderly wandmaker and walked out of Ollivanders’.

***

Well, Harry thought morosely as he wandered around Diagon Alley, that was a dead end.
Obviously, Ollivander had no idea about how powerful the Elder Wand was – more than ever,
Harry was convinced that his wand was one of a kind. The Deathstick had taught him, showed
him images – but Harry just intuitively knew it wasn’t living.

Not in the conventional sense of the word “living” in any case. Either way, in some ways, his
brief foray into Ollivander’s shop was a success – he had determined the Elder Wand was one of
a kind, had bought a new wand holster and had even managed to question the wandmaker without
arousing his suspicions. Yet, his problem remained.

Harry needed to know more about how to control the Elder Wand. He supposed there were two
ways to go about it now that he knew the foremost expert on wands in England had no idea about
the Deathstick – he needed to go to its former master. He had to get in touch with either
Dumbledore’s portrait, or someone who knew Dumbledore back when he was alive.

In the meantime, though, Harry supposed he could get some actual shopping done.

***

An hour later

Just as Harry stepped out of Flourish and Blotts, armed with textbooks for his seventh year, a
voice drew him out of his reverie.

“Harry!”

He looked around and spotted a tall, dark-skinned girl in a cotton tee and track pants walking
straight towards him.

“Angelina,” he greeted with a grin, “What’re you doing wandering around the Alley?”

“I could ask you the same question,” she said, flashing her pearly whites at him. Then she looked
down at the text books in his arms. “Going back to Hogwarts, eh?”

Harry nodded and shrunk the books. “Got to complete my education,” he said.

“Pish-posh,” Angelina said mischievously, “The Savior of England needs an education?”

Harry smiled and then shrugged. “Would be nice to go back to school,” he said wistfully, “Seems
like a nice break from… what came before.”

Angelina’s smile vanished. “Yeah,” she said seriously, “I suppose it would.”

He started walking alongside Angelina.

“Judging by what McGonagall’s planning though,” Angelina said with a smile, “Doesn’t seem
“Judging by what McGonagall’s planning though,” Angelina said with a smile, “Doesn’t seem
like it’ll be a quiet year.”

Minerva McGonagall, ever since she had become Headmistress, had supervised the rebuilding of
Hogwarts. Apparently, the school was now back to its former shape, though it was in desperate
need of funds to pay for the rebuilding project. And in order to foot the bill, McGonagall had done
some savvy marketing and initiated some really clever proposals.

Apparently, Hogwarts would be hosting a large inter-school tournament of sorts – not quite a
Triwizard Tournament, but close. The tournament would also be broadcast on the new WWW
invention – the Chart-O-Vision that George was so busy manufacturing these days and that were
quickly filling up most wizarding households. The wizarding equivalent of a television was selling
like hotcakes – according to George, they would mint millions, and several international
entrepreneurs were starting up brand new channels to broadcast on the silver screens.

Harry did think they needed to come up with a new name though – the “WWW Chart-O-Vision”
sounded a bit tedious and weird to him. Although, they did look like large silver paper when
Harry really thought about it – much more versatile than muggle televisions, in any case. They
could be expanded to cover an entire wall, or contracted to fit on a single finger. George reckoned
they would soon be able to make it an entirely immersive experience by feeding images directly to
the brain, in a manner similar to a Pensieve.

The recording end of the Chart-O-Vision was a bit more complicated and less affordable to the
average wizard though. The Recording Orbs – spherical orbs that recorded with one of their
hemispheres and stored it in the other hemisphere - were slightly similar to omnioculars in how
they worked, but the runes and material involved were far more complicated and intricate. As
such, wizarding channels would have to invest far more to buy the orbs – and each orb had to be
controlled by a wand-wielding wizard.

McGonagall had allegedly partnered with one of those upcoming channels to broadcast the
European Inter-School Tournament of Sorcery. It would involve inter-school quizzes, duels and a
round-robin Quidditch tournament. It was a very ambitious project and Harry had to admire
McGonagall for coming up with it and following through at such short notice. According to the
business sections of the Daily Prophet, it was a canny move – the sponsorships for the tournament
would ensure that Hogwarts would be able to pay off all of the debts involved. Moreover, the
tournament would improve the tarnished image of British Wizarding Society from the previous
war.

So far, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Mahoutokoro – a Japanese wizarding school - and the Salem
Witches’ Institute – which, despite its name, taught both boys and girls in the United States - had
volunteered to take part in the tournament. Harry supposed that meant Hogwarts would be playing
host to quite a few students next year – although McGonagall did say that the students would be
using portkeys or Floo, rather than actually staying over like they did for the Triwizard
Tournament.

Additionally, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts had instituted an exchange program, wherein any
student who chooses to do so can opt for an “exchange year” at the other school. Of course, that
had caused Ginny to go absolutely spare when Fleur announced, quite proudly, that Gabrielle
would be one of the first exchange students and would be staying at Hogwarts for the next year.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “McGonagall’s really shaking up the entire school.”

“So, Harry,” Angelina said casually, “Want to head over to my place, if you’re done shopping?”

Harry glanced at her for a moment, then asked, “Uh… you don’t stay with George?”
Angelina shook her head. “Well, we’re only dating. Haven’t really decided to take the next big
step. He’s busy with the whole Chart-O-Vision launch thing, and I’m busy preparing for my first
season at the Holyhead Harpies. I have a nice, cozy place in Guildford.”

“Surrey?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Angelina said proudly, “I’m renting it, of course, but it’s a home.”

“I…”

“Relax, Harry,” Angelina said, amused by his hesitation, “I’m not going to eat you up. I’d just like
for you to come over is all.”

“Sure,” Harry said. Angelina smiled and then asked, “Side-along apparate?”

“I guess,” Harry said.

Angelina suddenly moved into his personal space and hugged him, pressing her soft breasts right
into his chest. Harry felt a familiar squeezing sensation, and they were suddenly in Angelina’s
living room in Guildford, Surrey.

***

Harry looked around, noticing the open kitchen, a sturdy wooden dining table and a nice green
couch in the cozy little hall. He then noticed Angelina was still hugging him – her dark brown
hair, strung into a ponytail, waved around his face and with a start, he realized she was laying soft
kisses around his neck. Her hands were sliding all over his back, feeling every cut and curve of his
muscles.

“I never realized you were so… fit,” Angelina whispered.

“Uh…” Harry said, completely taken aback.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” the Chaser crooned, “George and I have… an open relationship. And he
loves it when I tell him about these little encounters with other men.”

Her hands were now feeling up his rear. She was grinding her own crotch against him – they were
roughly the same height – and Harry could feel her toned legs pressed right against his own.

“Uh… Ginny…” Harry tried to protest.

“Cleared it with your girlfriend,” Angelina said naughtily, “Turns out she’s all for you sleeping
around.”

Maybe Gabrielle’s right, Harry thought, Maybe Ginny really is trying to bang other women
through me.

Not that he was complaining.

“Fine,” he said, his own voice lowering in pitch, “If that’s how you want to play, let’s play.”

***

Angelina loved the feel of Harry’s muscles. She wondered how the scrawny little boy had grown
up into such a delicious hunk, but frankly, she did not care. She had been surprised when Fleur
Delacour, in a drunk stupor at the Easter after-party at the Burrow, had confessed to banging
Harry Potter in front of her husband. Luckily, only Angelina and Audrey had been around when
Harry Potter in front of her husband. Luckily, only Angelina and Audrey had been around when
the quarter-veela had confessed. Audrey appeared absolutely scandalized, but Angelina had been
intrigued. Despite Audrey’s apparent disgust, Angelina had prodded the blonde and Fleur
proclaimed – to Audrey’s discomfort and Angelina’s amusement – that Harry Potter was the “best
lover in all of the universe.”

And so, she had been curious. She told George about it – just like she told George about all of her
one-night stands (there had been only two for her apart from George – her schedule was packed
with training for the Harpies) – and George had been immensely intrigued. Of course, she had
heard the jokes about Harry “Hippogriff” Potter from the Quidditch lockers, but had never thought
he would ever be within reach. Now that he was, she just could not resist taking the proverbial
“Hippogriff” out on a fly.

And much to her surprise, George had been immensely turned on at the notion as well. So he had
provided her with a recording orb and made her promise to record the entire session so both of
them could “enjoy” it later.

Angelina just hoped Harry Potter lived up to all the hype.

“Fine,” the black-haired man murmured, “If that’s how you want to play, let’s play.”

And she gasped. The air seemed to tingle with unbridled passion as Harry’s hands, which had
been hanging limply, sprang into motion. The temperature seemed to rise and Harry started kissing
right back. He trailed wet kisses down her neck and she moaned – he was picking all of her sweet
spots. She felt one of his hands squeeze her ass. With the other, he held her ponytail in a firm grip
and snapped her head back so that she was staring into her mesmerizing green eyes.

So incredibly handsome, she thought.

“Wait,” she panted as he leaned in to kiss her, “George… he wanted me to record this…”

Harry looked at her curiously and murmured, “Ah, so the Weasley family trait rears its head
again.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Never mind,” he said, his lips millimeters away from hers, “Where’s the orb?”

“On… the… table,” she said haltingly. So difficult to concentrate, she thought, as Harry’s hands
kneaded her ass so pleasantly and he kissed across her cheeks and on the edge of her lips.

“Activate,” she gasped and an orb rose right into the air from its previous position on the dining
table.

“Oh,” Harry said amused, “You prepared for this little soiree.”

She nodded mutely.

Harry looked curiously at the orb as it hovered around them, glancing away from her in the
process. Angelina started laying kisses around his cheek and ear, biting at his lobe playfully. “So,”
Harry asked, “How do you control it?”

“Something about magically controlling it with your wand,” Angelina murmured between kisses,
“Don’t care. Can never get the damn thing to work straight. Can’t be arsed to hold a wand now.
Let it just hover in place and record.”

“Hang on,” Harry said.

Angelina drew her face away from his and looked curiously at him. Their bodies were still flush
against each other and Angelina could not stop grinding up against him – there was something
about him that was immensely masculine. Like an overpowering sense of power that hung around
him.

Harry extended an arm out towards the orb and Angelina watched the muscles bunch up all over
his forearm in admiration. She liked a man that kept fit.

And then, she gasped as she felt a burst of power pulse ight out of his bare hand. The orb stopped
moving and floated in mid-air.

“Oh,” Harry said idly, “That’s not too bad.”

Angelina gaped. Harry was controlling a magical object with his bare hands, without a wand.

“How… are you doing that?” she asked incredulously.

Harry turned to look at her and grinned. “Don’t worry about it,” he said huskily and Angelina felt
herself getting aroused as a well of power seemed to surge up around him. The orb moved closer,
hovering right above their heads, “I’ll control the orb. You worry about the fucking.”

And then he kissed her. Angelina felt her toes curl with the strength of his kiss – his tongue
brushed against her own tongue and inner cheeks, swiping and licking at all of the right spots,
drawing moans from her mouth and she melted in his embrace.

They drew apart and Angelina panted, “Merlin, it’s like your feeding magic into me.”

Harry smirked. “Oh, I’ll be feeding you a lot more than magic this afternoon, love.”

And then they kissed again. Angelina moaned and gasped into his mouth and his tongue seemed
to map every inch of her throat. His hands were running all around her back and sides, feeling up
her tight stomach, pushing up her breasts and then roaming over her clothed rear.

Eventually, they drew apart again and Angelina could not take it anymore. She dropped down his
body, scraping her fingers down his chest and abs. Harry removed his shirt just as Angelina
started unbuttoning his pants. She pulled them down with a swift jerk and moved her head to the
side as something monstrous sprang up at her.

“Morgana’s tits, Harry,” Angelina said, tilting her face to face his rock-hard erection. It practically
filled her vision, and she was just looking at the base. She tried to turn her head around to find the
end of the enormous shaft, but it just went on and on. “What the fuck? How the hell do you
manage to hide this?”

Harry chuckled.

Angelina waddled back on her knees, keeping her hands on Harry’s muscled thighs for support –
they felt like tree trunks under her palms. And then she came face to face with the largest
cockhead she had ever seen. It was like someone had tried to make a perfect human penis and had
succeeded in making one. With perfectly straight lines and a ramrod-straight shaft ending in a
perfect mushroom head with an eager slit at the end, but then the conjurer of the penis had realized
it had to be fitted onto a giant and had then cast multiple engorgio spells on it.

It looked ridiculously huge. And it would have looked ludicrous on the Harry Potter that Angelina
remembered from before she left Hogwarts – but on the beast of a man standing before her, it
looked perfectly appropriate. Only, Angelina could not tell if she herself was intimidated or
aroused. Or both, she thought. She cupped his balls – like ostrich eggs in her hands – and pushed
up, watching his cock sway in front of her eyes.

“Harry,” she panted, “I’m not… I don’t know if…”

“You won’t know,” he said smoothly, “Unless you try.”

Angelina tentatively reached a tongue out and licked at it. She moaned at the taste. “Men are not
supposed to taste this good,” she murmured. She heard Harry chuckle, but she was being perfectly
serious – he tasted… she couldn’t quite place the taste. But if she had to use a word – she would
use the word - “powerful.” He tasted like pure power, like his entire body tingled with magic.

And Angelina shamelessly started licking away at his massive head, slathering it with her tongue.
She slobbered all over the head, then lapped across it, even poking the end of her tongue briefly
into his slit. Harry moaned at that and Angelina smiled naughtily.

***

Harry moaned and pulled Angelina closer, even as he moved the orb down so that it was filming
them from the side at his waist level. Her eyes crossed as she drew closer to his cock until her
amazingly pillowy lips were touching the tip of his cock. And then he let go – he wanted her to
make the next move.

Angelina kissed around his hole, still licking tentatively around his head. And her lips slowly
widened as she slowly pushed his dome into her mouth. Eventually, when her entire mouth was
filled with his crown, she grew bolder and slid him further down her hot, panting mouth until his
cock was touching the back of her throat. It felt amazing to him – especially her lips, which had
now reached down a quarter of his penis. Angelina had the largest lips of any of the girls that he
had been with – and Harry had always heard his Quidditch teammates make jokes about how
those lips would feel wrapped around their cocks, but here he was, actually feeling them on his
shaft.

And then Angelina pulled back, dragging those delicious lips up his cock until she pulled off with
a pop. “How the hell do you fly so fast with this thing weighing you down?” Angelina asked
incredulously.

“Size can be deceptive, Angie,” Harry joked.

“Tell me about it,” Angelina said and stuffed his cock in her mouth again. She made an “mmmmf”
sound as she tried to push her tongue out from underneath his shaft and her lower lip. Harry
groaned. She was gurgling over his cock now. After a few seconds of holding herself down, she
pulled off again.

“I can’t stop tasting your cock,” the dark-skinned girl said, “It tastes amazing!”

And then she went down again. Only this time, she didn’t pull off as she started moving up and
down, drooling over the part of his cock that she could deep-throat. Her hands moved off his
thighs and encircled the lower half of his shaft, rubbing back and forth in rhythm with her head.
As she moved down, choking on his cock, her hands moved up away from his midriff, and when
she moved up, towards his cockhead, her hands moved down, smacking against his balls.

Her ponytail swung back and forth as Angelina gave him a spectacular blowjob. Harry’s hands
were now in her hair, rubbing across her scalp as she tried her level best to deep-throat him.

“So,” Harry asked, “When you said you wouldn’t eat me up… did you know you’d be on your
knees, trying to swallow my cock in your living room?”
“MMMF… MMFFF… MMMFFFFF!” was Angelina’s reply. Or Harry thought it was her reply
– he didn’t know whether she had even heard him. All he saw in her eyes was confused bliss and
her hands were zipping back and forth across his shaft as her mouth moved across the upper half
at a slower pace.

Eventually, after several minutes of tasting and salivating over his rod, she pulled off with a loud
slurp. His penis dripped with her spit. Angelina panted, “I… hope… that’s enough lubrication.”

Then she lifted his cock up and leaned in to lick his balls. She lapped all over them and then
wrapped her mouth in turn upon each, sucking at them so that each ball pulled pleasantly. Harry
groaned at the pleasure.

“No wonder you’re a Chaser,” Harry said, “You’re great at working those balls.”

Angelina pulled off, leaving his balls lathered in her spit. “Really, Harry?” she asked, “That’s the
line you’re going with?”

Harry shrugged and laughed. And Angelina went right back to covering his testicles with her spit,
lapping at it with the flat of her tongue.

After a bit, she leaned back again and started stuffing his cock back into her mouth.

But before she could go back to choking on his meat again, Harry placed his left hand on her head
and held her in place so that only his bell-shaped head was in her mouth. He then pushed her
hands away off his shaft and held the base of his cock in his own right hand. He then pulled his
cock sideways so that his head burst out of her lips off the side of her mouth with a resounding
pop. He moaned – he loved the feeling of his head pushing against her right cheek as it sliced out
of her oral cavity. Angelina just panted and stared at him.

Harry laughed, slapped the side of her face with his cock drawing out a squeal, and as she opened
her mouth to complain, he shoved his crown in again. “MMMFFF!” Angelina said again around
his cock, sending heavenly vibrations all over his shaft. Harry sliced his cock out again with a
pop.

“Harry!” Angelina whined, only for Harry to shove in his cock again and repeat the maneuver.
Over and over, he sliced out of her mouth with amazing pops and she panted and munched on his
cock.

“Dammit, Harry!” Angelina panted as he did it for the eighth time, “You’re… tearing… my…
mouth!”

Harry laughed and let go of her head. Angelina smiled eagerly and resumed her blowjob, jerking
the base of his shaft as she tried to deep-throat him.

And that was when Harry started moving backwards, to the dining table. Angelina, reluctant to let
go of his cock, crept forward on her knees, still keeping the fat crown in her mouth and slobbering
over it as if he were leading her with his cock buried in her mouth. Just as Harry drew alongside
the dining table, he grasped Angelina’s ponytail in his hand and jerked it back, making Angelina
draw off his cock and look up at him with a gaping mouth and lust-crazed eyes. He bent down,
lifted her and pushed her onto the table effortlessly so that she was laying down on her back
facing him. Then, he grabbed her hips and spun her in place so that her legs were facing away
from him while her head was right in front of him, only upside down. He grinned at her, grabbed
under her arms and pulled her towards him so that her head was off the table while the rest of her
body was lain on it.
“Just flinging me around as you please, Potter?” Angelina said, apparently overwhelmed by her
helplessness. Harry pulled the recording orb closer so that it hovered over the dining table.

He then lifted his cock and slapped it right on top of Angelina’s face. His balls were now right on
her forehead and his shaft lay across her entire face, with his cockhead extending well past her
chin.

“Harry!” Angelina squealed, “I can’t see!”

“Do you need to?” Harry asked as he rolled his meat all over her face, covering her face with her
own spit that was lathered on his cock. She moaned and extended her tongue out, trying to lick as
much of his shaft as she could reach as he rolled his meat all over the place. Then Harry pushed
her face down so that it was upside down and hanging off the table with Angelina’s neck bending
backwards. Using her mouth as a fuckhole, Harry just stuffed his cock down her trap and
Angelina started choking. She grabbed the shaft with both hands and started jacking him off
again. Harry took his own hands off and just held her head in place as the dusky woman did all
the work.

Even upside down, with her head hanging off a dining table, Angelina was still giving Harry one
of the best blowjobs he had ever experienced. She gagged on his shaft as she tried to shove him
down her throat – it was a gallant effort by Harry’s standards, but ultimately vain; nonetheless, he
did enjoy the feeling of his cock pushing into her tight throat as she choked around it by herself.

“Angelina,” Harry moaned, “You’re a class apart.”

Angelina pulled him out with a mighty effort and said, “Just chasing after this amazing taste,
Harry.” And then she stuffed his cock back in with a shlurp.

Harry laughed. “A Chaser joke, Angie?” he taunted, “Tch, tch.”

Eventually, Harry pulled right out as Angelina’s spittle flew all over the place, leaving the black
girl panting for more. “Time for the main event, Johnson,” he said as he rotated her hips around
again, so that she was now facing him the right way around with her legs on either side of his
hips. “Time to return the favor,” Harry said as he pulled off her pants and went down on his knees
before her dazed eyes.

***

“Fuck, Potter,” Angelina moaned, “Your tongue feels divine!”

He seemed to be licking all around her cunt and he did this amazing thing where his tongue
vibrated whenever it touched her clitoris. It felt exquisite to Angelina – her three past lovers had
often told her she had a tiny clitoris and that it was hard to lavish attention upon, but Harry was
blowing her past experiences away with his tongue. Dimly, she registered that her recording orb
was now right in front of her face. He’s actually multi-tasking, she thought incredulously.

“That’s it!” Angelina moaned as his vibrating tongue made another pass across her bud, making
her pussy gush with pleasure, “You’re great at spotting the Snitch, aren’t you?”

Harry slurped at her lower lips and got up with a confused smile. “Uh… are you equating your clit
with a… snitch?” he asked.

Angelina hooked her feet around his head and pushed him back into her twat. “Shut up and seek!”
she moaned, “Listen to your captain.”

Harry went straight back to those delightful languid licks along her lips with a chuckle.
“That’s it,” Angelina moaned, “Listen to your… uh… LICK your captain!”

And then Harry plunged his tongue right into her pussy and started vibrating his tongue inside.
Angelina squirmed and twisted, shuddered and moaned as his tongue impossibly vibrated and
licked at the same time, finding all of the right spots.

“CUMMING!” Angelina screamed as her pussy gushed and pumped around his tongue. Her eyes
rolled into the back of her head as her back arched in pleasure. In her haze, she noticed Harry
stand up with a raging erection.

***

Angelina was now looking straight at his cock as it hovered right over her abdomen and there was
a fair bit of trepidation on her drenched and dazed face.

Harry pulled her closer and swung her right leg over his shoulder; he pushed her other leg onto the
table by her thigh. Her right foot now lay right beside his ear and her left leg rested right along the
edge of the table so that her wet cunt was gaping at him.

Angelina’s vaginal lips reminded Harry of Fleur – they were invitingly plump and were entirely
hairless. The difference was: where Fleur’s vagina was pink superimposed on milky white skin,
Angelina’s was crimson, imposed on delicious chocolate skin. Another difference was that where
Fleur’s clit was abnormally large, Angelina’s was particularly tiny. However, both quims seemed
to have no problems churning out fluids as they quivered in the throes of pleasure.

Harry angled his cock and pushed at her lips, parting them with the tip of his spit-soaked
cockhead. Angelina’s pussy was still writhing and squirming at intervals, trying to come down
from her orgasm. “Harry”, she moaned and Harry pressed his advantage, pushing his cockhead
right into her tight cunt with a shove.

She screamed, “HNNNNNNNNNNNNGGG… BIG!”

Her pussy renewed its shuddering as it coiled and uncoiled around Harry’s head, apparently
milking it in amazing fashion as he pushed even further in. Inch by inch, her cunt walls slowly
parted as his cock sank further and further into her wet tunnel – her pussy was gushing juices now
and Angelina twitched ever so often as Harry slipped further and further in.

And when three quarters of his cock was buried in her wet orifice, Harry slammed in with all his
strength, spearing the last quarter in and bashing right into her cervix. Angelina screamed again
through gritted teeth. “HNNNNNGGGGGGG!”

Harry held her left leg in place against the table as he pulled out until only his head remained
buried in her vagina and slammed straight back in. And then started repeating the motion until a
stream of screams was pouring out of Angelina. Her pussy walls were gripping and contracting
right around his penis as he slammed in and out – she seemed to be having a never-ending series
of orgasms. They seemed to taper out as he kept to a specific rhythm, and then start up again to
build to a peak as he changed his rhythm.

“YES!” Angelina screamed as her orgasm seemed to build to another high and he pounded her up
and down over the table.

“Better than riding a broom, Angie?” Harry taunted.

“I… GNNNNAAAAH… WISH… BROOMS… HNNNNGGG… FELT THIS GOOD!”

Angelina screamed, the last three words rushing out of her mouth as she shuddered on the table,
“FEEL… LIKE… I’M… FLYING!”

Harry frowned, pondering Angelina’s words even as he kept thrusting into her like a maniac.
Then, after a moment’s thought, a brilliant idea popped into his head – Angelina’s words had
reminded him of his own experience with Gabrielle’s avian form.

Harry removed his left hand from around Angelina’s right leg that was slung over his shoulder,
pushed at the orb so that its recording half – indicated by a red, blinking dot – was pointed away
from him at Angelina’s slutty face - and summoned his wand out of thin air. He waved and
pushed downwards with his magic, creating a cushion of air underneath Angelina.

Angelina’s eyes, which were screwed shut in pleasure up to this point, snapped open as she felt
her back leave the table. Harry quickly willed his wand to disappear and pulled out of her pussy,
drawing a moan from her. Her gaping cunt was still quivering and drooling fluids at a phenomenal
rate.

“What… happening?” Angelina asked, utterly confused and trying to formulate a question to
voice her doubts through her continuing orgasm.

Harry grabbed Angelina’s legs and rolled her onto her left side so that her left leg lay flat on the
cushion of air he had just conjured and her right leg was poised high in the air, perpendicular to
her left.

“I just conjured a bed made out of air, Angelina,” Harry said smugly, “Well… more like a bed that
feels like it’s made of air, but is actually just a high pressure stream of air pushing up your body
and keeping it aloft.”

Angelina just looked completely dazed.

“Er… never mind,” Harry said as he jumped onto the bed of air right behind Angelina so that
Harry was on his left side as well, his cock brushing up against Angelina’s cunt, drawing a gasp
from her. Harry grabbed his cock with his right hand and angled it up so that it pushed up against
Angelina’s pussy once more. Then he pushed in again, parting her tight, wet walls again.

“YES!” Angelina screamed again, eerily echoing the words he had once said to Gabrielle,
“FLYING AND FUCKING!”

“Dream come true, huh?” Harry asked lustfully, now holding onto her right thigh with his hand,
pushing it up higher against her side as he as he extended his left arm under and around
Angelina’s body to palm her tits. Both Harry and Angelina now lay on their left sides, floating in
mid-air, with Harry spearing his cock in and out of her twat at a furious pace. He was actually
moving his body back and forth across the cushion of air as he lay prone on his side and he loved
the fact that there was absolutely no friction as there would be on the ground. Harry imagined
doing the same thing on Angelina’s carpeted floor would probably be disastrous for his skin.

It does feel like I’m flying and fucking, Harry thought happily, congratulating himself for this
brilliant idea.

“You’re quite flexible, you know,” Harry said in admiration as he continued to drill into the dark-
skinned woman; her right leg was now nearly at an angle of 270 degrees to her left, pressing up
right against her side as Harry held it in place. He pulled at her nipples with his left hand as her tits
bounced in rhythm with his thrusts. His balls were slapping against her gushing twat now with
loud, wet smacks, echoing throughout the room. He willed the recording orb to hover in the
vicinity of Angelina’s pussy, where his balls were smacking up onto her clit as his cuntjuice-
coated shaft slammed in and out of her gushing twat.
After nearly thirty minutes of spearing Angelina in the sideways spooning position (although
Harry was doing a lot more than casual spooning – he supposed he’d have to invent a new name
for this rapid-fire thrusting in the spooning position), Harry felt his conjured cushion of air
growing weaker. Quickly, he pushed up, drilling deep into Angelina as he pulled her into his lap.
She squealed as she sat on top of his balls with his meat shoved deep into her cunt.

“What…” she asked stupefied, “Why… have… we… stopped?”

“Don’t like stopping, eh?” Harry asked.

“Don’t wanna… stop… cumming,” Angelina panted.

Harry chuckled and pushed off the cushion, landing softly on the floor with Angelina bent over in
front of him with her ass against his abs and his penis deep in her vagina. “Harry!” Angelina
squealed as she flailed her arms, looking for support as she fell forwards. Harry gripped her hips
tighter and held her impaled on his cock.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” he taunted, “Won’t let you fall.”

“Harry!” Angelina whined, “Legs… weak… can’t… stand.”

Harry just grinned naughtily and thrust forward, making her scream as she stumbled forward, her
cunt leaking juices all over his cock.

“Remember what you told me once during training, Angie?” Harry asked, and then said in a sing-
song voice, “Even when on your last legs, keep pushing forward – it’s never over till it’s over.”

And then he gave another thrust, pushing her forward another step. Her legs trembled and she
screamed, “FUCK… YOU… POTTER!”

“Well,” Harry said, “You kinda are. Fucking me, I mean.”

“AAAAAHHH!” Angelina screamed and flailed again as he gave yet another massive thrust,
pushing her one more step. It felt lovely bashing up against her cervix with each mighty shove into
her dribbling cunt. Harry was positive that his cock was now probably so lathered with her juices
that if he took out his cock and shook it around, he could make it rain pussy juices.

Harry was not thrusting her forwards for no reason at all though – with one more thrust and
another associated scream from Angelina, they had finally reached the tall armrest of her couch.
Angelina’s hands finally grabbed the armrest and pushed up against it, holding on for dear life.

Harry grinned. He pulled his cock right out of her pussy, drawing a moan from Angelina at the
sensation of loss. And then he speared it back in with a titanic thrust. He didn’t think Angelina
could scream any louder, but she proved him wrong. Her gritted teeth finally opened up and she
screeched her lungs out at the force of his entire cock pulverizing her insides at once.

And Harry repeated the motion mercilessly. Just as he popped his head right out of her slick cunt,
she moaned, “Fuck…”

Harry complied and sheathed his cock in one fell swoop, pummeling her insides in one go.

And just as he popped out again, dribbling her juices all over the floor, she moaned, “… your…”

Thrust. Pull. “… naughty…”

Thrust. Pull. “… CAPTAIN!”

Harry grinned, grabbed her ponytail and pulled on it as he thrust in again, snapping her head back.
And then he started fucking her, never leaving her cunt this time.

“FUCK!” Angelina screamed over and over as Harry pounded into her like a piston, jiggling her
ass and tits at a furious pace. Her vagina was squelching and pumping juices as she stared straight
ahead in bliss, his balls were slapping all over her inner thighs as he used her like a blow-up doll,
reshaping her insides so they were now moulded to suit only him. She barely managed to hold on
to the armrest as Harry used her ponytail as some sort of a leash, snapping her head back and forth
as he fucked her more roughly than she’d ever been fucked in her life.

“So, am I throwing the quaffle the right way now, Captain?” Harry taunted.

“QUAFFLE… FUCKING… BIG. HOOP SMALL!” Angelina screamed. Harry burst out
laughing at that, speeding up his thrusts into her.

The orb now hovered around her face as Angelina panted and moaned right into it, her breath
condensing to mist as it touched the translucent surface of the recorder. Her never-ending orgasm
had reached its ultimate peak and her pussy was practically fluttering around Harry’s fat cock,
gibbering out juices almost continuously.

Her vision swam and the world burst into color around her – the pleasure was absolutely
overwhelming. She reached out a hand behind her and slapped Harry’s arse blindly.

“CUM!” she screamed, “CUM… YOU… BEAST!”

Harry did not oblige her – he just kept thrusting away like a demon. She just knew she had been
utterly ruined – poor George wouldn’t even be able to feel her inner walls at this rate with his tiny
pecker. They had been permanently disfigured to the shape of Harry’s perfect horsecock.

“BEAST!” she screamed again as her insides felt like they were reduced to jelly. She was melting
cum all over his big, fat rod now.

Angelina decided, at that moment, that she’d never miss a chance to fuck herself silly on Harry’s
enormous pole again… ever. If she’d known he was this gifted, she’d have fucked him from the
moment he stepped into the Quidditch lockers at Hogwarts. Her cunt would have been impaled on
that cock all day long – at breakfast in the Great Hall, in the lockers, even up in the air… she’d
have done a celebratory loop riding Harry’s fat cock each time they scored a goal, had she only
known about this…

“FUCK”, she screamed again – her hands trembled and she lost her grip on the armrest, falling
forward with her ass in the air. Her face smushed into the sofa and the armrest was right against
her tummy as she leaned against it with her torso on the couch. She was practically on the armrest
now.

And Harry was relentless. He pulled her hips up, pulling her legs off the ground in the process and
his cock never left her gushing twat. He just kept spearing in and out at a furious pace as he
fucked her onto the armrest of her own couch.

She was drooling now, trails of spit falling down her gaping mouth onto the couch, forming a
puddle beneath her right cheek. Her pussy was being fucked into pieces as the sofa started
shuddering back and forth with the force of Harry’s bestial thrusts.

“Harry,” Angelina pleaded. Her throat was raw and her lungs felt like they were burning.
“Please…”
Dimly she registered exactly why Ginny was apparently willing to lend her boyfriend around – he
was insatiable. There was no way Ginny was keeping up with him. Hell, she thought, my entire
Harpies team couldn’t keep up with this monster.

“Please what?” Harry asked.

“Cum,” Angelina rasped.

Harry started slowing down. His thrusts simmered down until he was merely grinding in and out
of her quivering cunt and then, with a pull, he was out of her vagina. She sprayed juices out onto
the floor, unloading all of her cum that had been plugged in by his cock.

He then lifted Angelina bodily, flipped her, and laid her onto her couch on her back, so that she
was facing him, his enormous cockhead over right above her lips. She could barely move, but she
opened her lips in a daze.

Harry was now off to her side as she lay down, so he raised one leg and placed it on the couch,
such that he was towering above her face. He then angled his cock down and stuffed his head
between her parted lips so that it burst into her mouth.

And the taste she loved returned. Angelina wearily lifted her arms up and curled her fists around
his shaft. She tugged and pulled at the enormous rod, willing him to cum… wanting him to cum.
Her cunt was still dribbling juices onto her couch, but thankfully, her orgasm was showing signs
of tapering off.

Harry thrust in and out ever so slightly, so that his head moved back and forth in her mouth as she
jacked him off to the best of her ability. She licked all over every part of his dome she could reach.
Fuck Ginny, she thought, I’m going to choke myself silly on this tasty meat every time I see it now.
Even if it has to be in front of the little redhead.

And then Harry grunted and his penis recoiled as it spurted what seemed to be an entire mouthful
of semen into her mouth. Angelina gagged, despite what she thought was a delicious tangy taste -
causing it to spill out of her mouth and all over her face. She tried to swallow desperately as Harry
shot a second burst and then a third…

And it seemed to go on and on. Angelina actually had to raise her head from its prone position on
the couch to try and swallow it, but it still dribbled down her neck and onto her breasts. She pulled
his penis out of her mouth and it continued to shoot semen all over her face, eyes, hair, neck and
even onto the couch.

“You’re… fucking painting the place,” she rasped out incredulously.

Thankfully, after what seemed like an entire minute or so, Harry stopped spurting out his cum.
Angelina, who was still holding onto his penis, pushed it down to her mouth again and licked the
remaining cum off his glistening shaft.

Then, she collapsed back into the puddle of her own spit and Harry’s cum and went straight to
sleep with a smile on her face.

He does live up to all the hype, she thought as her mind faded, best night of my life.

***

Harry smiled at Angelina. That had been incredible. He cast a few Scourgify spells to clean up the
place, then made absolutely sure that the orb hadn’t recorded his conjuring of the air-bed and had
faced in the other direction as he pulled out the Elder Wand. He didn’t care if the Weasleys saw
how powerful he was – he just cared that they did not spot how he was exercising that power.

Then, he conjured a blanket over the sleeping Angelina, dressed up and apparated straight out of
her flat.

***
 Tamer

Hogwarts, September 1

Harry plopped down on a Gryffindor table that was slightly new to him. The usual people that
surrounded him – the chatty duo of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, the shy presence of Kellah
Mudiaga, the stately Fay Dunbar, the verbose Usanga Bem, the ebullient Seamus Finnigan,
easygoing Dean Thomas and the quiet but strong Neville Longbottom – were not around
anymore, having passed their NEWTs earlier in the year. The NEWTs had been made available
sometime in August for those students that were unable to give it during the war. In retrospect,
Harry should have given the NEWTs, but Hermione and Ron were adamant upon returning to
Hogwarts for a carefree year, one last time. And truth be told, Harry was not entirely opposed to
that idea.

Yet, the lack of his erstwhile year-mates was disconcerting. Now, while he still had Ron and
Hermione with him, they were sitting two seats to his right. Also, Ron and Hermione were Head
Boy and Head Girl for the last year at Hogwarts – and deservingly so, in Harry’s opinion.

Hermione had been entirely weird with him ever since the Easter feast – she had seldom visited
the Burrow, and when she had, she would either avoid him like the plague, or push him up against
the nearest wall and snog the life out of him before running away like a maniac. She alternated
between guilt, passion and aloofness so fast that it boggled his mind. Ron appeared to be as
unconcerned as ever, to the point where Harry had to wonder why he was in a relationship with
Hermione at all. Ron did tell Harry that he would love to see the whole thing with Hermione being
repeated, but Hermione kept stalling him whenever Ron brought it up. Harry was a bit relieved by
that though – he wasn’t quite sure he wanted Hermione to sleep with him because Ron had told
her to. He wanted the adorable, bushy-haired girl. He loved her – his feelings for her were no
lesser than Ginny’s. Yet, he was content to wait from afar as Hermione made up her mind.

At this moment though, just after the Sorting, Hermione appeared utterly bored and Ron appeared
to be chatting with one of Ginny’s year-mates… or one of Harry’s year-mates now. Every so
often though, Hermione would look up at Harry and glare at the women around him.

And Harry was surrounded by women – it was slightly unnerving to be hemmed in exclusively by
women at Hogwarts. On his left sat Ginny Weasley. To his right, Demelza Robbins had blocked
off an eager looking Romilda Vane, and Harry was very grateful to his Quidditch teammate for
that. Right opposite him, much to Ginny’s utter disdain, sat an extremely beautiful Gabrielle
Delacour – the new exchange student from Beauxbatons. On either side of Gabrielle were
Nandini Johar and Natalie Fairbourne – two girls from Ginny’s year, now in his.

And they all alternated between flirting with him and heckling Ginny. While Ginny seemed to
take most of the ribbing in stride, that did not stop her from having intense impromptu staring
contests with Gabrielle. The half-veela herself appeared to be slightly put off at the sheer amount
of male attention she seemed to be receiving as she sat with her hair undone at the Gryffindor table
– it was way worse than when Fleur had sat at the Ravenclaw table.

That did not stop Gabrielle from joining in on all the fun though – she had quickly made friends
with all of the girls around Harry except for Ginny, much to the redhead’s chagrin.

And Gabrielle’s dainty feet were now right against Harry’s crotch. Harry was trying to listen to
McGonagall go on about her pet project – the inter-school tournament – and describe how the
students that wished to participate would be selected, but Gabrielle’s feet were so dexterous. She
had hooked her feet right underneath Harry’s robes below the table and crept up until his robes
were bunched up around his thighs, giving the half-veela full access to Harry’s crotch. She had
then proceeded to unzip his pants and draw them down – all with her feet to Harry’s incredulity
(and admiration) – until they were around his ankles. And she was now coaxing his cock right out
through the slit in his boxers. His cock was now completely erect and was pushing his robes up,
tenting them. Gabrielle’s feet alternated between tugging at his cock with the arches of her feet
and massaging his balls with her toes.

Harry looked around desperately to make sure no one was looking and then gulped when he saw
that Demelza, seated right next to him, was looking straight down at his tent with wide eyes. She
looked from his tent to his eyes several times, as if she could not believe what she was seeing, then
actually put her head under the table to look at what was happening. Luckily, Ginny was facing
McGonagall and listening intently to her, so at least there was that. Demelza gave a soft gasp and
rose up to stare incredulously at Gabrielle across the table – she had obviously seen Gabrielle’s
feet going right up Harry’s robes. Gabrielle merely winked at Demelza.

Crap, Harry thought, Demelza is going to tell Ginny. And then I’m done for.

But she did not. Instead, Demelza reached out tentatively, her eyes still wide. She extended a hand
carefully under the table and just started feeling up his crotch through his robes. Harry gasped.
And then Demelza started rubbing it softly.

“I… didn’t know you were available,” she whispered into his ear.

Harry just grinned at her as she started massaging his penis. “I’m not,” he whispered back, “I’m
with Ginny.”

Demelza looked troubled. “Then… why…?”

“Uh…” Harry trailed off.

“Okay, I feel slightly guilty now for honing in on Ginny’s turf,” Demelza said casually, still
stroking his shaft.

“You’re still rubbing it,” Harry told her.

“Whoops,” Demelza said, but made no move to take off her hand. She bit her lips and looked
down at the table. “I’ve… just… never touched one before. This is huge!”

“Uh, Demelza, I’d really appreciate it if you took your hand off right now,” Harry said.

Demelza pouted, but removed her hand nonetheless, eliciting both relief and regret in Harry. “But
why is she touching it then?” Demelza half-whined, half-whispered.

“She isn’t now,” a cold voice said from Harry’s left. Then there was a massive smack sound under
the table. Harry turned around with a start only to see Ginny giving Gabrielle a vicious glare.
Gabrielle’s feet left Harry’s crotch – Ginny had obviously kicked Gabrielle’s feet with her own.
Gabrielle just gave Ginny an impish smile.

“Bitch,” Ginny murmured. Then she looked at Harry; he noticed that Hogwarts had resumed its
normal level of chatter and McGonagall had obviously finished her speech.

“Uh,” Harry murmured.

Ginny kissed him and he kissed right back. Ginny drew off him and gave Gabrielle a haughty
smile – the half-veela shrugged and winked at Ginny; the redhead blushed.
Harry groaned. It would be a very long year indeed.

***

Hermione was utterly bored. Ron was immersed in an immensely boring conversation about
Quidditch with Jack Sloper and her boyfriend wasn’t even holding her hand. Or even looking at
her. The only reason Ron seemed to even give her the time of the day these days was to ask her
when she and Harry would be doing that again.

It was utterly ridiculous. And Hermione did not think she could ever do it with Harry again in
front of Ron. She wanted Harry Potter – her feelings towards Harry Potter were now at fever
pitch. She was attracted to him. She thought she loved him.

And the main obstacle in her way was not Ron. She was sure, by now, that Ron had never really
seen her as a long-term partner. And worse, in between his conversation with Sloper, Ron was
even managing to sneak in flirtatious lines with Julie Parkes – Julie used to be a year below
Hermione and was a pleasant enough girl.

Hermione supposed she should have been jealous, but it disturbed her when she felt nothing.

She was not jealous of Ron flirting with Julie. She was feeling intense jealousy though – however,
her envy was directed entirely at Ginny Weasley, sitting diagonally opposite her. She was with the
man Hermione desired and it was driving the bushy-haired Gryffindor up a figurative wall. More
disturbing was the fact the Gabrielle seemed to be here at Hogwarts – somehow, Hermione had
managed to miss Fleur’s announcement that Gabrielle would be attending Hogwarts for her final
year as an exchange student – apparently, Gabrielle was keen on getting a job in England after
graduation, and Hermione had the sinking feeling that she knew why.

Gabrielle was the very epitome of a Harry Potter fangirl – apart from Romilda Vane, of course,
who had looked crestfallen when Demelza had taken the seat she had made a beeline for. And
Gabrielle was worse than Romilda – where Romilda was blunt and tactless, Gabrielle was
sophisticated and charming. Where Romilda was merely pretty, Gabrielle was exquisite, as only a
veela could be.

It was unfair. Now, Hermione had to compete with not just Ginny, but Gabrielle as well – the
half-veela had not taken her eyes off the Boy-Who-Lived for a minute since the feast had started.

Only two things gave Hermione solace. One – Ginny seemed to be as disturbed by Gabrielle’s
fascination with Harry as Hermione was. Two – Hermione was far closer to Harry than Ginny, let
alone Gabrielle. She knew the handsome, dark-haired man inside out – they had made love.

And in any case, Hermione was never one to back away from a competition. Not when the
reward was utterly worth it.

***

“So, Harry,” Nandini asked with a giggle, “Planning to take part in the tournament?”

“Yeah,” Demelza said, “I’m definitely in for the Quidditch try-outs.”

Harry just looked a bit puzzled.

Ginny, who had been glaring at Gabrielle, snarled, “If you had been listening, Harry, McGonagall
just announced that the try-outs for the all-Hogwarts team shall take place next week.”

Both Nandini and Natalie looked a bit taken aback by Ginny lashing out at Harry so soon after
giving him a fierce kiss. Demelza coughed into her hand loudly and Gabrielle giggled. Ginny
went right back to glaring at the half-veela.

Gabrielle straightened up. “According to Madame Maxime,” she said, “I caused a bit of confusion
– I can’t possibly go back and forth between schools to compete in the tournament heats. It was
decided that I shall take part in the heats here, but if selected, I shall represent Beauxbatons in the
main tournament.”

“So you’ll basically be considered a Hogwarts student for the preliminary rounds?” Natalie asked
curiously.

“Not quite,” Gabrielle said, “It’s like this – if I rack up as many wins as, or more wins than any of
the four best duelers at Beauxbatons in their heats, I shall be offered a spot in the Beauxbatons
dueling team.”

“But wouldn’t that be a bit unfair?” Nandini asked, “I mean… Beauxbatons might have more
duels in their heats. Wouldn’t it be unfair if you secured a spot here to compete for a spot there?”

Gabrielle giggled. “Doesn’t matter,” the half-veela said airily with a flourish of her hair, “Madame
Maxime knows I’m that good.”

Ginny scoffed.

And then everyone turned to stare at a very confused Harry.

Demelza made her voice slightly high-pitched to emulate Ginny’s tone from earlier. “If you had
been listening, Harry,” she said as Ginny gave her a flat stare and Gabrielle giggled again, “You’d
have known that the heats shall begin next week for the Dueling portion of the tournament.”

“She called it the Contest of Wands,” Natalie added, looking faintly amused by the fact that Harry
hadn’t even paid attention to McGonagall’s instructions.

Nandini looked a bit put out. “Well, I’m no good at Quidditch,” the curly-haired brunette said
thoughtfully, “And I’m not really into dueling. I guess I’ll try out for the Quiz.”

Ginny nodded approvingly. “Nandini, you did get all Outstandings on your OWLs” she said.
Nandini blushed and glanced at Harry. Ginny scowled.

“Uh,” Harry said awkwardly, “I… uh…”

“Mister Potter,” a new voice said from behind him and Harry turned with a start. He looked right
into the almond brown eyes of the new Head of Gryffindor House – Mary MacDonald. She had
been announced as the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts (Harry hoped for her sake that
the curse on the position was long gone – she was easy on the eyes too) at Hogwarts and had
attended Hogwarts when his own mother had been at school.

Apparently, Professor MacDonald had made quite a name for herself ever since the persecution of
Muggle-borns under the reign of Voldemort began – she had spearheaded the Hogsmeade
resistance, for which Harry was very grateful and had been the driving force behind the
reinforcements during the Battle at Hogwarts. She had also been quite an accomplished auror
before the rise of Voldemort, though she had retired sometime in 1993 to take care of her only
child, who was apparently a fifth-year Hufflepuff now. Either way, Harry was impressed by her
credentials and McGonagall had made it quite clear that it was not often an ex-Auror deigned to
teach at Hogwarts.

Professor MacDonald was holding a list in her hand. “Mister Potter,” she repeated and then
looked around at the other students, “Miss Weasley, Miss Fairbourne, Miss Johar, Miss Delacour,
do you know what events you shall take part in?”

“Dueling,” Gabrielle said decisively.

“Quidditch,” Demelza said.

“Quiz”, Nandini said shyly, still looking at Harry.

“I’m… going to pass,” Natalie said, and shrugged when Nandini gave her an accusing stare.
Obviously, the dusky girl had expected Natalie to take part in the Quiz selection as well.

Then there was a pregnant pause where Professor MacDonald looked expectantly at both Harry
and Ginny.

Ginny was chewing on her bottom lip, obviously thinking really hard about what she wanted to
do. Harry had no idea why – Ginny obviously loved Quidditch.

Ginny glanced at Gabrielle, then at Harry and then at the Professor. After a beat, she asked, “Er…
could I take part in two events?”

“You can take part in two selections,” the Professor said, “You may or may not qualify for the
final school team we shall be fielding from November onwards in the main event. We’re only
taking names now for the selection rounds where you shall be parsed.”

Ginny nodded. “Dueling and Quidditch,” she said, and then glared at Gabrielle.

Gabrielle merely smirked.

And then everyone stared at Harry expectantly.

He knew everyone expected him to take up Quidditch – he had just fought a war and defeated a
Dark Lord, after all. And while Harry still liked the sport, he had no desire to engage in it for the
rest of his life. There was another profession that interested him now. And the blood pounding in
his ears, the silent whispers of the Elder Wand in his head… they all persuaded him that there was
really only one option here.

“Dueling”, he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both his girlfriend and Gabrielle gape at him. And then,
Gabrielle gulped. The Professor stared at him for a moment, then asked slowly, “So… no
Quidditch then?”

“I’m sure there are plenty of excellent Quidditch players at Hogwarts, Professor,” Harry said, “I’m
merely taking part in the event that interests me more. It is my NEWT year, after all. So I’d like to
concentrate on that one event.”

The Professor jotted down his name and moved up the table to ask the next group of students.
Harry heard Ron say “Quidditch.” So did Kirke, Sloper and the girl Ron was talking to. However,
much to his surprise, Hermione looked straight at Harry as she said, “Dueling” quite defiantly to
Professor MacDonald. Harry just stared at her, but Hermione wasn’t looking at him anymore. She
was looking at Ginny.

Great, Harry thought, I’m in the middle of a three-way contest now.

Harry turned around to look at the group.

Natalie laughed, then looked between Ginny and Gabrielle. “Well,” she said, “There go your
chances to make it into the finals.”

Gabrielle gulped. Ginny objected, “McGonagall said the idea of the heats for the Contest of
Wands was to select a four-member contingent to represent Hogwarts in knockouts against the
four-member teams from other schools. Harry’s just going to take one spot – there are still three
other spots on the school team.”

“So sure of me?” Harry asked.

“Always,” Ginny said without missing a beat. Harry smiled. Gabrielle huffed.

“More like two spots, if I was allowed to take part as a Hogwarts student,” the half-veela said
cockily.

“So sure you’d be able to snag a spot against us?” Ginny asked her archly.

“Always,” Gabrielle said, imitating Ginny’s voice. Ginny scowled.

“I look forward to making you eat dust in our duel, Gabby,” Ginny barked at Gabrielle.

“And I look forward to seeing you drop out before the finals even begin, Gin-Gin,” Gabrielle fired
right back. Then she winked flirtatiously at Harry and blew a kiss at Ginny. Ginny blushed –
though Harry wasn’t sure if it was because she was flummoxed by Gabrielle’s kiss or if she was
angered by Gabrielle’s words.

“Is there… something between you two?” Natalie asked, puzzled.

“Like a grudge, or something?” Nandini added.

“Oh, it’s a very big grudge. Like… huge. Like a giant pe…” Demelza began, but Ginny
interrupted.

“Oh, nothing at all,” Ginny said in a saccharine voice.

Gabrielle just smiled sweetly at her.

A very long year indeed, Harry thought. At least he had the duels to look forward to.

***

Hogwarts, mid-November

The Lake shimmered with the reflections of thousands of stars as the Hogwarts students milled
about outside the grounds to welcome the visitors that would soon appear to take part in first
round of the tournament; the international schools would take on each other for the first time. The
preliminary rounds to whittle down the school teams were now over with. Apparently, Salem
Witches’ Institute had dropped out of the tournament altogether, leaving four schools –
Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Mahoutokoro and Hogwarts – taking part in the actual tournament.

As such, the Quidditch tournament would be a normal round-robin contest where each school
would play against the other three, turn by turn. Harry was secretly elated that his girlfriend had
made it in as Chaser for the Hogwarts school team. So had Demelza and Ron, as Chaser and
Keeper respectively.

The Quiz would also follow a similar round-robin pattern – each school team would face off
against every other team. Nandini had made it into the Hogwarts team.

However, what really excited Harry was the Contest of Wands. Apparently, the duel would have
sixteen participants from four schools – since duels were not fought as teams. As such, the duels
would basically follow a knock-out format. Sixteen contestants whittled down to eight, then to
four, and then the finals.

Harry had made it through all of his duels against fellow Hogwarts students without a single loss.
He had beaten Ginny and Hermione one after the other in his initial duels – but both girls seemed
to take it in stride. To be honest, Harry was a bit disappointed though – none of his duels had
lasted beyond a minute. It was ridiculous – there were actually “minute-man” jokes floating
around now. The longest duel he had been subjected to was Hermione, and that was because he
had held back, only to get bored; he then unleashed a barrage of spells that caught his best friend
off guard. And so, he had secured a spot on the team quite effortlessly.

It had been really interesting to watch certain other duels though. Especially those of Gabrielle
Delacour – the girl had not been making empty boasts when she had said her spot was assured.
She was incredibly skilled with a wand. Apparently, Beauxbatons had a flourishing Dueling Club
and Gabrielle had been the top seed at her school’s club. As such, there was quite a bit of
resentment against the French girl at Hogwarts – the students had to be assured that Gabrielle
wasn’t stealing a spot from any Hogwarts student. And unfortunately for Ginny, she hadn’t made
it through to the final team at all. While Harry did think Ginny had performed very well in her
duels – she had placed seventh at Hogwarts – Ginny was humiliated by the fact that she lost her
duel against Gabrielle.

Harry tried to convince her that Gabrielle had too much experience in dueling tournaments, but
that had just set Ginny off again (“So you think she’s better than me?!”). To be fair, Gabrielle had
defeated Ginny in embarrassing fashion – with a tripping jinx cast immediately after the chime
rang. That had been the fastest victory in the tournament and Gabrielle’s superior smirk had only
driven the point home. Harry had to admire the half-veela – she made full use of her veela abilities
too. Ginny had been sluggish drawing her wand; Harry just knew it was because Gabrielle had
used her allure. And it was much the same problem with most male students taking part in the
duels – they spent more time drooling at Gabrielle than dueling her.

Which wasn’t to say Gabrielle’s record had been flawless. Hermione had fought quite an epic duel
against Gabrielle and the students at Hogwarts were still talking about it. Gabrielle’s allure was
useless against heterosexual women, apparently, and Hermione had displayed a level of finesse
that had impressed even Flitwick. That had been the longest duel in the entire tournament, going
on for well over ten minutes. Where Gabrielle was inhumanly fast, Hermione was graceful. Where
the half-veela exerted power, Hermione exhibited precision. It was an amazing duel – but
Gabrielle just could not stand up to the Hermione’s repertoire of spells at the end of the day.
Hermione had won the duel and it had been Gabrielle’s only loss.

As such, Hermione had secured the second position on the Hogwarts team. Astoria Greengrass –
who was fearsome with a wand – and to Harry’s pleasant surprise, Luna Lovegood – absolutely
chaotic in her movements and unpredictable with her spells – rounded out the team. Gabrielle, of
course, had been assured of a spot in the Beauxbatons school team, seeing as how she had secured
more wins than every other member of the Beauxbatons dueling team.

Although, much to the disappointment of the Hogwarts students, Harry and Gabrielle had been
the last scheduled match-up for the heats and the whole school had looked forward to it.
Unfortunately, McGonagall had called it off the day before the duel was scheduled – the match
had no purpose at all. Harry supposed the Headmistress was right – they were assured positions in
their respective teams anyway, and if Gabrielle was good enough, he was sure he would meet her
in the actual tournament.

As the days passed though, Harry found himself enchanted by the half-veela. She had this ferocity
around her that absolutely charmed him – the only duel she had lost had been against Hermione
and had been her first duel. She had thrown herself into books and practice after that, and she had
improved amazingly over the course of the tournament. Harry was not quite sure that Hermione
would beat Gabrielle the next time they met each other. Moreover, she appeared to be fanatically
loyal to him. And her magic seemed to caress him and submit to him each time they crossed each
other’s paths.

His love life was a hot mess, in any case. Of course, officially, he was still with Ginny, but
Hermione and Gabrielle seemed to take pleasure in approaching him whenever they felt he was,
pushing him up and snogging him, or grinding up against him. Of course, the two girls didn’t
know the other was using the same tactic. They would also sit next to him at dinner or breakfast
and brush their legs against his, or place a hand on his thigh. Lately, they had taken to doing it
during class.

Of course, the two did not follow exactly the same tactic. While Hermione seemed content on
merely molesting him when she caught him in secluded spots (and so did Gabrielle), the half-veela
seemed to have taken up another path as well.

She had taken to snogging Ginny too – only, she seemed to delight in doing so in front of Harry.
The first time that had happened was the first Hogsmeade weekend. Harry and Ginny had gone
on a walk through the village. Gabrielle had spotted them in a quiet alley near Zonko’s. So the
half-veela strode right towards them, and to Harry’s surprise and arousal, she actually slammed
Ginny into the wall of Zonko’s and kissed her right on the lips. Ginny had squealed and pushed
her off angrily, calling her a pervert and a slut, but Gabrielle had just smirked and walked away.

Later, Ginny had rounded on Harry. “Why didn’t you stop her?” Ginny had asked.

Harry had muttered something inane.

Ginny had pursed her lips. Then she had said, “You… want her to join us, don’t you?”

There had been no accusation in her voice. Just curiosity.

Harry had mumbled, “Only if you want, Ginny.”

Ginny had said nothing.

And then Gabrielle had done it a few more times, all in front of Harry. Each time, Ginny held on
for a little longer before shoving the veela away with angry words.

Harry suspected Ginny was both unnerved at Gabrielle’s audacity and turned on by it. Ginny’s
emotions were in a constant state of flux – Harry supposed that would go on for a while; but he
suspected the redhead would ultimately consent to Gabrielle.

Hermione, though, seemed to be playing an entirely different game. She seemed to know Harry
loved her and she seemed utterly confident in herself. Harry was completely puzzled by her
behavior though – if she wanted to be with him, why would she still be with Ron? Of course, the
Head Boy and Head Girl seemed to be growing more distant by the day.

And so, here Harry was, in mid-November, hugging Ginny from behind as she leaned into him
comfortably. They were queued up outside the lake to welcome the schools that would be arriving
for the first round of the tournament. Harry, Ginny, Nandini, Gabrielle, Demelza and Natalie were
forming a bit of a clique – Hermione drifted in and out, but aside from joining in on study sessions
(and snogging him occasionally when no one was looking) she seemed to be an unhappy part of
Ron’s group of Quidditch junkies. Nandini, Demelza and Natalie were flanking him and Ginny
on either side. Gabrielle was nowhere to be seen – she had to run to the bathroom right before
they made their way out and had told them she would join them in a few minutes. Luna had joined
them and was standing right beside them, chattering away behind an amused Natalie. A very
eager-looking Romilda Vane also stood at the edge of their group, looking like she wanted to join
in. And Astoria Greengrass had also made her way to Harry and Luna – the little sixth-year
brunette was now peppering Luna with questions about her dueling techniques and occasionally
asking Harry a question about who he usually sparred with for practice. Of course, Harry couldn’t
really give her a straight answer – unless she was asking about Voldemort, and Harry wasn’t sure
he would call that practice.

Of course, there was a much larger crowd at Hogwarts compared to the Triwizard tournament –
there were at least three crews from various wizarding channels, armed with recording orbs to film
the Meeting of Schools. There were also several visitors from the Ministries of all four countries
taking part in the tournament, as well as Hogsmeade residents, who had been temporarily allowed
on school grounds to watch the opening, with purchased tickets. McGonagall seemed to be
milking the tournament for all it was worth.

Of course, all rounds of the actual tournament would be hosted at Hogwarts. The first quiz match
was between Mahoutokoro and Beauxbatons. The first Quidditch match was between
Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Both matches would take place the following week at Hogwarts.
As for the Contest of Wands, the Round of Sixteen would also be held next week.

And since Hogwarts was the host, the Beauxbatons and Mahoutokoro Quiz and Quidditch teams
would visit Hogwarts for their initial matches. Of course, all sixteen dueling participants would be
available for the Round of Sixteen – thus, all three schools were poised to officially land at
Hogwarts for the Tournament soon, though Durmstrang would only bring its Duelers.

Harry pulled Ginny up against him and rubbed his cheek against her hair. She looked at him and
smiled impishly.

“You look beautiful,” Harry said sincerely.

“I could stand to hear that more often,” Ginny said, her eyes widening with mirth and her delicate
lips curving into a smile.

Harry kissed her cheek, then turned to look at the night sky as Ginny snuggled against him. There
were all gathered around the trunk of a slender rowan tree that grew along the edge of the lake.

***

Hermione grit her teeth as she saw Harry and Ginny cuddle in sickening manner. She was right in
the middle of a crowd full of boys – Ron, Kirke, Sloper and Creevey were loudly debating the
finer points of each school’s quidditch teams and Hermione was quickly growing tired of the
entire sport. Everyone seemed almost intimidated by her now that she had placed second in the
Hogwarts Dueling heats in terms of total wins, including Ron. It was frustrating.

She had loved the fact that she had beaten Ginny – the redhead was quite a challenge, but not
quite there yet. And the veela – she had relished that hard-fought first victory over the fangirl. Of
course, Gabrielle was sure to have something up her sleeve if they ever met in the actual
tournament, but Hermione could work hard as well.

Hermione had come to a point in her life where she needed no affirmation from anyone. She had
helped Harry beat Voldemort and had established herself as a formidable witch – she was no
longer that “upstart Mudblood”. She was a witch – and all that the title entailed. People respected
her. She was Head Girl of Hogwarts. Friend of Harry Potter. Brightest witch of her generation.
And now, the second best duelist at Hogwarts.

And yet, she couldn’t help but take pleasure in Harry’s proud smile when McGonagall had called
out her name immediately after his, announcing that they would be representing Hogwarts. More
than ever, that was when Hermione realized Harry did love her. And she was sure of her own
feelings now as well.

The problem, of course, was the fact that if Hermione did choose to date him, she would be
joining a polyamorous relationship with Harry and Ginny. And she wasn’t quite sure if she
wanted to share Harry. And even if she did, she would settle for nothing less than first place in his
heart. She deserved that. She wanted that.

Which was why she was going spare watching Harry and Ginny cuddle against a tree in the
starlight in front of the dimly lit lake, right in between all the girls from her year, including Luna.
She did not miss the looks of longing each of the girls gave the couple occasionally, and it did not
slip her mind that every single one of the girls around Harry and Ginny was practically
unattached.

Hermione huffed, slipped out of the boring Quidditch conversation going on around her (Ron
didn’t even notice, to Hermione’s relief) and made her way across to Harry and Ginny,
determinedly pushing people out of the way as she moved through the crowd.

That’s it, she thought, Harry’s mine.

***

Harry tracked Hermione as soon as she started striding towards him. She saw him look at her and
smiled. Harry said absolutely nothing and just watched her – he was curious and a bit on edge.
Hermione, had last felt him up just that morning, at breakfast. She pushed a few Ravenclaw fifth
years out of the way and finally reached Harry’s group. “Excuse me,” Hermione said as she
pushed past Natalie and Nandini to step right into Harry’s space. And then she wedged a hand
between Harry and Ginny. Harry tensed, but Hermione pushed forward with all her strength.

***

Ginny stumbled and slid out of Harry’s loose hug. The redhead let out a yelp as she tumbled
forward, but she regained her footing and looked around. All of her friends were just staring at
Hermione who had apparently stepped right into their midst.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, looking abashed, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Ginny frowned and said, “It’s okay.”

And then the redhead waited for Hermione to move out of the way so she could snuggle with her
boyfriend again, but the Head Girl just stood there, right in front of Harry where Ginny had been
standing until a moment ago, and looked at her expectantly. Ginny huffed, smoothed her robes
and turned around to look up at the sky again.

Harry’s strong arms had been very comfortable. Ginny was slightly disappointed to be deprived of
them, but she supposed it was just like Hermione to be so clueless. She shrugged and stood in
front of Hermione, flanked by Natalie and a Romilda, much to her distaste. Behind her was
Hermione, hemmed in by Nandini and Demelza. And Harry was now behind Hermione, flanked
by Luna and Astoria Greengrass, right up against the trunk of the rowan tree.
Ah well, Ginny thought, I can always have Harry to myself later.

***

While it was a cool day – winter was slightly late that year – Harry had chosen to go with a simple
school shirt and pants, with a sleeveless sweater on top. Hermione had gone with a similar muggle
attire – decked in her standard shirt and a skirt, with a full-sleeved crimson sweater on top that
looked dark blue under the night sky. Of course, the other girls, including Ginny, were dressed in
full robes – it struck Harry at that moment that, apart from Hermione and himself, all of the
students immediately around him were born to wizarding families.

Nonetheless, a small part of Harry wished he had gone with full robes at that moment. For the
most part though, Harry was congratulating himself for going with pants.

Primarily because Hermione was unbuttoning her pants – her hands deftly working his zip down
even as she faced away from Harry. And worse, Harry did not want to stop her – he knew where
Hermione was going with this and he wanted it too. So he pulled out his wand surreptitiously and
cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm immediately around him. However, the Notice-Me-Not Charm
could only be cast on a single person, or an entire area. And if Harry cast it on himself, even
Hermione would have difficulty undoing his pants. On the other hand, Harry found himself
unable to cast it on the area immediately around him so as to render just him and Hermione
unnoticeable without including the other girls around him – Luna and Astoria were right up
against either side and were talking to each other across him. The shore of the lake was beginning
to resemble a moshpit, with people crowding the area. So Harry just threw caution to the winds
and just cast a rough Notice-Me-Not Charm in his general vicinity. He had no idea if the students
on either side fell within the ambit of the spell or not, and he didn’t care – not when his pants were
already around his ankles and Hermione was kneading his soft penis, under his boxers, so skilfully
with both hands.

Hermione’s hands were stretched behind her own back, tugging at his soft meat – her enthusiasm
more than making up for her lack of skill. Harry looked to his left and was relieved to see that
Luna did not appear to have noticed that his pants were now bunched up on the ground. And then
he turned to his right, and discovered, to his bemusement that Astoria Greengrass was staring
diagonally down at his crotch where Hermione’s hands were working over him. Her mouth was
open and her face was flushed – she looked like she was torn between being scandalized and
being awestruck by Hermione’s audacity. Astoria looked up at him, with the same stunned look,
then back at his crotch, then at the back of Ginny’s head. She looked at him again and then just
continued staring at what Hermione was doing in frozen surprise.

Then Astoria squealed meekly as Hermione reached her hands right into his boxers, pushing them
down with her forearms as she tugged his hardening shaft right out his underwear. Then the Head
Girl bent forwards at the waist, pushing Ginny a bit in the process and backed up so that Harry’s
semi-hard cock just flopped down all over her ass and back. Then, the most intelligent witch of
her generation lifted her skirt up from under his cock so that her entire milky ass was exposed,
covered only by a tiny piece of lingerie.

Harry grinned, took hold of his cock and wrenched it through the waistband of Hermione’s
panties so that his cock was pressed onto one of her asscheeks as it went through Hermione’s
panties and emerged on the other side on her lower back. Then, both Harry and Hermione started
moving their hips so that they were grinding against each other every so pleasantly. Hermione’s
ass pushed Harry’s balls back and forth under his penis as gasps tumbled out of her mouth and she
mashed her tight, slim rear against Harry’s fat cock.

And then, Harry felt a set of hands palm his ass. He looked behind him in surprise and traced the
hands back to their owner – Luna Lovegood. Luna was giving him an uncharacteristically astute
smile. The busty blonde bespectacled girl leaned in and whispered, “You have bad case of Nasty
Wrackspurts, Harry. They’re making you randy.”

“Uh,” Harry asked, “Won’t you contract them by touching me?”

“Maybe,” Luna said thoughtfully, “But it’s worth the risk, Harry.”

Harry just stared as Luna continued palming his backside. “So… muscular, Harry, like the
hindlegs of a Snorcack,” Luna said happily, as she tried to squeeze his ass but failed because of
the knots of muscle on it. Then she withdrew her hand off Harry’s rear and placed it right on top
of his cock on Hermione’s ass.

“So huge,” Luna murmured.

“Yep,” a new voice joined in. Harry looked up to see Demelza smirking at him. And to his
surprise, Nandini seemed to be aware of the entire situation and was watching him with a
scandalized expression akin to Astoria. Thankfully, Ginny, Romilda and Natalie were otherwise
occupied and seemed to be outside the ambit of the charm.

Harry just could not stop. His cock was now completely erect, threatening to tear Hermione’s
panties by stretching it around his cock. Luna was feeling him up near the base of his shaft with an
odd smile on her face. And Hermione was just grinding against him ruthlessly, shaking her ass up
and down his captured penis, palpitating his balls with each downstroke.

And then Demelza’s hand joined Luna’s, kneading him ever so pleasantly as he continued to rub
his cock on Hermione’s bottom. Both of them were massaging the top of his shaft, while his
sensitive underskin continued grinding back and forth across Hermione’s tiny, but gorgeously
perky ass.

Luna’s hand moved up his shaft and then under his shirt as she started feeling up every curve of
his abdominal muscles. Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

He slid out from between Hermione’s panties and her asscrack; then he pulled her panties down.
He could hardly believe this was happening – two gorgeous girls were beating him off while he
dry humped his best friend. He pulled back a bit and glanced down to see Hermione’s twat, but
his shaft was in the way. Gingerly, Harry pushed his cock out of the way, angling it against
Hermione’s left cheek, so that it was pointing straight up into the air to his left with his balls flush
against Hermione’s soft arsecheek.

Her pussy looked as tight as ever. Her gorgeous lips seemed to be zipped up against each other so
that her slit was an incredibly tiny tear on her hairless skin, letting her arousal trickle out drop by
drop.

Then he registered something hot and wet touch the tip of his sensitive cockhead. Harry looked to
his left – his bulbous head was level with his lower chest. He saw an incredible sight. Luna, who
had been standing to his left, was now hunched over his cockhead. When Harry had angled his
rod sideways, he had inadvertently pointed it straight in Luna’s direction, and the blonde girl had
taken full advantage.

She was licking the curve of his purplish-pink dome almost hungrily, lashing at his head and only
his head in delightful fashion, as if trying to scoop up his pre-cum with her tongue. She squeezed
both her fists around his tackle, around an inch below his dome, so as to hold it in place as she
lapped away, her tongue weaving hot wet trails across his skin.

Then, she saw him staring at her. Luna stopped licking for a moment and said dreamily, “It just
looked so tasty and smells so nice. A clear sign of Wrackspurt infestation, Harry. And everyone
knows the only way to get rid of Wrackspurts is to lick them off.”

She continued to lick away as if his head was a particularly tasty lollipop. Harry looked around
carefully at the crowd milling about him – he was spooning the Head Girl right behind his
girlfriend while yet another girl French-kissed his penis. Apart from Demelza (who had now
turned around to face him and was running her hands under his shirt, completely forgetting that
they were supposed to face forward), Nandini (who had also turned around, her face crimson with
shock and arousal as she stared at Luna licking his cock, which was hovering right in the dusky
Indian girl’s grasp) and Astoria (who was still pinkfaced with her mouth open in shock), no one
else seemed to have noticed. Harry’s Notice-Me-Not Charm had obviously done its job.

Harry snapped his neck right back and groaned softly as Luna slurped on the side of his head, her
lips kissing it deeply. He leant against the tree lazily and pushed Hermione’s ass back and forth
against his balls, under his shaft, which was angling up into Luna’s face.

Luna, after lapping at his cock hungrily for a while, drew off and pushed it so that it was right in
Nandini’s face.

“It’s very tasty,” Luna said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she was offering the other girl a piece of
toast that she had been happily munching on until now, “Care to try it?”

Nandini just stared between his cock and Luna, as if she could not believe the blonde was being
perfectly serious. Her mouth parted, as if she was torn, and then she plunged her face forward so
that her plump lips met his cock with a wet kiss. Nandini moaned and Harry felt her lips part right
on his head as her tongue snaked out to taste his meat. She lathered his cock with her tongue, her
eyes closing in delight as she sampled his meat – judging by her expression, she found it
delightful.

Astoria gasped and Demelza crowed, “Look at the nerd go!”

“The only nerd Harry should care about at this particular moment,” Hermione said in a low husky
voice, wiggling her ass against him, “Is right in front of him.”

Harry grunted and pushed his cock towards her, but both Luna and Nandini grabbed it, saying
“No!” in unison (or at least, Harry thought Nandini said no – her mouth was still plastered to the
side of his cock, so her refusal sounded more like “NNNNNNFFFFFFFFFF!”). And then Luna
leaned in and kissed the other side of his cockhead, where Nandini wasn’t lathering it with her
spit.

“Holy crap, Harry!” Demelza exclaimed, “Their tongues don’t even touch.”

“It’s not supposed to be that big,” Astoria murmured faintly.

“Harry,” Hermione insisted, wiggling her ass delightfully again.

Demelza grinned and then reached across Hermione’s back. She caught his shaft with both her
hands and pulled it out of the grasp of both Luna and Nandini, who panted hungrily and glared at
the chaser.

Demelza opened her mouth as wide as she could and then plunged down on his spit soaked head
as she angled his cock to his right. She sank down, filling her mouth with a quarter of his cock,
and gagged. Loudly.

Astoria shrieked, testing the limits of his Notice-Me-Not. Demelza was now bent right over
Hermione’s back as she tried desperately to give him a blowjob – the girl had obviously never
done this before. She choked around his bulb, but doggedly bobbed up and down so that she was
slobbering all over his shaft, her tongue desperately trying to slither out from where it was
sandwiched between his cockhead and her lower palate and taste every inch of him she could
reach.

After fifteen whole seconds of suffocating on his cock, she drew off with a gasp. “I’ve been
wanting to do this forever,” she said happily and then plunged right back.

She made a grrk sound as his cock slammed into the opening of her esophagus and Harry groaned
as Demelza chomped on his cock with her lips, slobbering over it.

She drew off again with a pop and said, astonished, “I never dreamed it could be this tasty.”

“Give it back,” Nandini whined, reaching across Hermione, but Demelza slapped her hands away.

“Harry,” Hermione said in a low voice, “If you don’t put your big badonkadonk in my cooch right
now, I am going to bash these little sluts with my bare hands.”

Even Luna looked intimidated at that – Hermione had defeated her quite handily in the
preliminary round of dueling. Demelza quietly let go of his cock and it smacked right on
Hermione’s ass again, his head bouncing on her back.

Harry circled her ass with his cock, tracing the curve of her bum as he angled his cock around her
ass and then grazed her thighs as he pushed his erect penis down. Then his shaft snapped up as he
let go between her thighs, smacking right onto her dripping cunt.

Hermione moaned.

Harry pushed his ass back against the rough wood of the tree behind him, so that his cockhead
was hovering a millimeter in front of Hermione’s pussy. Then he pushed. His bell-shaped head
parted Hermione’s tight lips ever so slightly.

“No. Way,” Astoria murmured, staring at the junction where Harry’s head was struggling to
snuggle into Hermione’s box.

Nandini and Demelza were craning their heads and peering at Hermione’s slit with wide eyes.

“Way too tiny,” Demelza said in a choked voice, “No way that is going to fit in there.”

Nandini nodded mutely, still staring at his cock hungrily.

“Stranger things have happened,” Luna said serenely and licked her lips as she stared at his cock.

Hermione half-panted, half-laughed as she squirmed, feeling his head slowly part her lower lips as
it made its ponderous way inside her tight tunnel. “You… sluts… lubricated his cock well enough
for me,” she said, “I should… thank… you.”

Nandini looked mortified and Demelza flushed. “Bitch,” the chaser said, annoyed.

“Head bitch,” Hermione corrected, “You don’t have the juice to get fresh with me, Robins.”

Harry ignored the banter as he steadily twisted his cock this way and that, desperately trying to
create space inside Hermione’s cunt. Her snatch was practically gushing but her slit was so tight
even the fluids that sought to escape were dripping down instead of flowing out. Harry pushed off
the tree as his head burst past her lips. Hermione gasped.
“I’d… forgotten… how… big… it was,” she choked.

“You two have had sex before?” Astoria asked in a hushed voice.

“Wait,” Demelza said, “Is Ginny loaning you out?”

“I want in,” Nandini said immediately.

Demelza grinned. “I knew you were naughty,” she said to the dusky girl, “All it took was one
taste of Harry’s big, fat cock.”

Nandini blushed.

“Fuck,” Hermione blurted as Harry worked his way deeper into her tight little gash.

Hermione flailed around for support – she had been precariously bent over and her legs felt
particularly weak. She caught onto the shoulders of the person right in front of her.

Harry realized, with a start, that Hermione had just caught hold of Ginny’s shoulders. Oh crap, he
thought, please let the charm hold, please let her not notice…

And Ginny huffed, but didn’t bother turning around. Harry sighed in relief and grinned as he
pushed a little further in.

“He’s stuffing it in,” Astoria murmured, “It’s like watching a dragon make love to a little bird.”

Demelza giggled. “You say the weirdest things,” Nandini said. All four girls around Harry were
staring at his shaft making its slow way into Hermione’s box now.

And then, out of the blue, Harry felt a hand descend on his ass with a loud, resounding smack and
Harry thrust forward reflexively, spearing Hermione with his cock in a single thrust. Her inner
walls wrenched apart as Harry’s cock sheathed itself within her and bashed against her cervix.

Hermione screamed, but Harry acted just as quickly – he snapped his wand forward and silenced
the bushy-haired Gryffindor in a split second.

“I didn’t even see him draw his wand!” Astoria exclaimed.

Harry held his cock in place and looked around. Luna was wearing an impish smile on her face.
She had obviously been the one that had spanked him.

“Oh,” the blonde said, an uncharacteristically naughty smile playing at the edge of her lips, “Just
thought I’d speed it up. We don’t want to miss the entrance of the other schools.”

Hermione was panting silently now. Harry waved his wand again and pocketed it. The Head Girl
was audible again.

“Luna,” she wheezed, “I will… destroy… you… if we… ever… meet… in a duel… again.”

Luna just kept grinning. “And our hero of the day is… Luna,” Demelza stage-whispered and
Nandini giggled.

“Pays to be nice, Hermione,” Harry said diplomatically.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hermione muttered coldly, “And start fucking me up.”

Harry slapped his hands around her hips and held them firmly in his hands. He felt Luna and
Demelza on either side place their palms against his biceps, feeling them as his muscles bunched
up in preparation. He knew how incredibly tight Hermione was – he was going to have to scrape
against her inner walls if he wanted friction.

And he started moving, slowly. He had been right – Hermione fit around his cock like an
incredibly tight condom. Her wet walls clung to his cock like silky film as he scrubbed in and out
of her muffin. Hermione was still holding onto Ginny, rocking back and forth ever so slightly as
Harry sawed his cock in and out slightly, pushing at her cervix, and then letting it relax as he drew
out.

Harry was touching every bit of her vaginal canal at once, her g-spot was being ground by his
cock as he pushed back and forth. Hermione could feel her orgasm beginning and her body
spasmed.

“She’s like a little cock-sleeve,” Demelza said in awe.

“More like Head cock-sleeve,” Nandini said drily, “She does have the juice to get fresh with
Harry, don’t you think?”

“She’s pumping it out by the gallons,” Demelza said.

“She can’t even speak,” Astoria said.

Then Harry felt a palm on his ass again, between him and the trunk of the tree behind him. He
looked around at Luna, but both her hands were now on his bicep. He turned to his right and saw
Astoria’s flushed face. The pretty brunette had a hand on his ass as she turned to push her breasts
up against his triceps. She reached a hand around the front of his stomach and tried to encircle the
part of his shaft where it met his midriff.

“Merlin,” Astoria breathed, “How does this thing even fit in there?”

Harry groaned and started pushing in and out of Hermione even harder. The Head Girl was now
moaning almost continuously as he slid in and out, pushing and pulling at her outer lips as he did
so. Hermione’s body was spasming more frequently now.

“I think she’s cumming,” Nandini said.

“Fuhhhh,” Hermione breathed as Harry started upping the ante, his grip around her hips
tightening almost painfully as he held her in place with incredible strength.

“Look at her face,” Demelza said in glee, “You’ve never seen the Head Girl like this before.”

Nandini frowned. “She’s moaning in Ginny’s ear,” she said, “So why hasn’t Ginny…”

“Notice-Me-Not,” Harry said.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling guilty… like… at all,” Demelza said flatly.

“Neither am I,” Nandini said, her eyes snapping back to Harry’s cock sliding in and out, speckled
with Hermione’s pussy juices, “I was just curious.”

Astoria was tugging at his shaft around his base as he slid his cock in and out of Hermione’s cunt.
She giggled as she watch Hermione’s lips stretch obscenely in the direction she tugged his cock
in.

“She’s so tight,” the petite brunette said, her voice laced with humor, “Her cunt is like tightly
wrapped silk, stretched into an O-shape.”

She tugged Harry’s cock up. “But I can make it go from O to zero and then back,” she concluded.

“Astoria,” Hermione hissed, “Nnnnnnnn…”

Her “no” trailed off as Harry pushed Astoria’s palm out of the way and really started pounding
into Hermione. Her walls clung to his cock so tight that he felt he was pulling them in and out as
he fucked in and out of her twat.

“Goodness,” Nandini said, “He’s destroying her.”

“But what a way to go,” Demelza supplied.

“Look at the amount of cunt-juice on his dick!” Astoria said.

“I’ve got more in my panties right now,” Luna said.

“Unnnnnnhhhhhhhh!” Hermione moaned, “Moooommmmmyyyyyy!”

Demelza grinned. “You guys heard that, right?” she asked, “You all heard the Head Girl crying
out for Mommy?”

Luna nodded and Astoria giggled.

“He’s practically sculpting her vagina now to fit him,” Nandini murmured.

Astoria pressed up against his side and started kissing his shoulder. “I don’t know about you
guys,” the brunette murmured between kisses, “But I’m definitely losing my virginity this year.”

“Dibs on Harry,” Nandini said immediately.

“Get in line, nerd,” Demelza said.

“Oh, I’m next, girls,” Luna said firmly, “I have to get those Wrackspurts off before he infects
you.”

“NNNNNNNN,” Hermioned moaned as her cunt started convulsing and dribbling juices. Her
body spasmed and shuddered as her orgasm hit her with the force of a freight train. She was
getting a bit too loud and Harry could feel the charm twinge. This time, however, Demelza waved
her wand, silencing Hermione.

“Always wanted to shut the Head Girl up,” she said mischievously, “Especially when she goes off
on one of her stupid rants about make-up.”

“I think her point was that you don’t need so much make-up, Demelza,” Nandini said, “You
looked like a clown before you cleaned up.”

Demelza scowled. “Well, Hermione can afford to say that – she’s gorgeous,” the chaser muttered.

“I think you’re very good-looking, Demelza,” Harry said helpfully as he pistoned in and out of
Hermione, his tingling balls now slapping loudly against her ass.

“How do you do that?” Astoria asked, laying her cheek against his shoulder as she watched him
ruin Hermione, “How do you concentrate through… that?”

“Practice,” Harry said casually and his pace doubled.

“Holy fuck,” Nandini gasped.

Hermione’s face was red and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

Her pussy was spasming in ridiculously rapid fashion around his shaft as he hammered in and out
of her cunt, juices gushing out in streams down his cock now.

***

Ginny was absolutely annoyed. Hermione was jerking her back and forth by her shoulders – she
had been doing so for the past half-hour and Ginny could feel her panting against her ear. She
supposed she should turn around to see what the commotion was about, but things kept distracting
her. Romilda kept asking her stupid questions about what Harry was like and Natalie kept
pointing at different girls and laughing at them. Ginny was more keen on listening to Natalie’s
gossip, but Vane’s ludicrous questions about Harry were starting to annoy her.

“How big is he?” Romilda asked, and Ginny was actually a little nonplussed by the utterly
worshipful gaze that the heavy-lidded girl gave her, “Is he good?”

Ginny sighed. And to think she had been so comfortably ensconced in Harry’s arms just moments
ago.

***

Gabrielle was annoyed. She was trying to make her way through the crowd, using her allure to
push men out of her way and physically pushing women out, but she just could not find Harry.
She had been searching for the better part of an hour. They had told her they would against a lone
rowan tree near the lake, and Gabrielle had spotted it (of course, Gabrielle could not tell a rowan
from a pine, but there was only one tree on the shore of the lake), but Harry was nowhere to be
seen. Eventually, after shoving more people out of the way, she finally spotted Ginny and Natalie,
talking to a good-looking brunette with excessive make-up.

But Harry was just not there and neither was her usual group of other friends. Gabrielle frowned
and pointed her wand in Ginny’s direction. “Point Me, Harry,” she intoned, silently thanking
Harry for teaching her the simple spell.

And the wand lit up as it pointed straight at Ginny.

Gabrielle’s frown grew into a scowl. Something was very wrong here. She tried to look behind
Ginny, but her eyes slid right over the tree.

And then it struck her. There was a very powerful obscuring spell in work right behind Ginny.
Harry, Gabrielle thought.

“Specialis Revelio,” she murmured, concentrating on her knowledge of obscuring spells. Her
wand lit up with a purplish hue.

Notice-Me-Not, she thought as she recognized the spell. Obviously, Harry had cast it – she didn’t
know of any other student that could cast it with such raw power.

But why?

Gabrielle had no desire to try and dispel the spell – Harry had cast it for a reason and she had no
desire to disturb him. However, she was curious and wanted to know why Harry had cast an
obscuring charm right behind his own girlfriend.
The Notice-Me-Not charm, while very effective against non-magical folk, had obvious limitations
– no matter how much power was exerted in casting it. It could be overcome by remarkably
strong-willed magical folk with ease. It could also be expanded to include individuals other than
the caster – because of its nature as a charm.

Charms, while still falling under the purview of spells, were different from curses and hexes in
obvious ways. For one, charms exhibited more complex effects on their intended targets than
hexes and could be controlled after being unleashed. However, the less powerful charms could be
controlled by persons other than the caster as well, making it relatively easy to dispel them or alter
them after they had been cast.

And so, Gabrielle, just as she approached the tree from the side, extended her wand and silently
reached out with her own magic, pulling at the edges of Harry’s charm boundary. It snapped like a
string and then twisted around her, including her in its spell.

She gaped at the sight.

Hermione was shuddering with her mouth wide open – obviously screaming under a silencing
spell – as she held onto Ginny’s shoulder for dear life and a grinning Harry pounded in and out of
her like a maniac. And worse, Luna, Astoria, Nandini and Demelza were watching demurely from
the sidelines, pawing over Harry’s arms and chest like horny groupies.

Hermione’s arse – while far smaller than Gabrielle’s jutting ass or Ginny’s wide booty – was
bouncing and rippling as Harry hammered in and out of her at a tremendous pace. His enormous
cock flashed in and out, and Gabrielle could hear his cock scraping Hermione’s insides
(Morgana, Gabrielle thought, He wasn’t making that sound when he made love to me). And now
that she was included in the charm, she could hear everything – the smack-smack-smack sound
Harry’s balls were making as they slapped against Hermione’s thighs, the panting of the women
who were pawing at Harry, Ginny talking casually with Natalie and the chatter of the students
around her.

It was a ludicrous scene – made even hotter by the fact that even Ginny didn’t seem to have
noticed that Harry was pounding into his best friend (and to Gabrielle’s chagrin, the girl who had
bested her in a duel) right behind her.

Gabrielle had never felt so furious and aroused before – not since Harry had fucked her own sister
in front of her. She felt betrayed.

And for the first time since she had been freed by Harry, she felt intimidated. She had been
wearing Ginny down in the hopes of joining her relationship with Harry. But Hermione was a
whole different ballgame – the petite, beautiful Head Girl was completely straight and Gabrielle’s
allure had no effect on her.

Moreover, Hermione had a relationship with Harry that had lasted years – if she wanted to
graduate from best friend to lover, Harry would agree in a heartbeat. Gabrielle wanted to be
foremost in his group – she would not settle for second place. But Hermione seemed to be well on
her way there.

And the Head Girl was a sexual rival as well, judging by the sound Harry’s cock was making as it
pulverized her insides. Harry was grunting with pleasure.

Damn, Gabrielle thought, and just when I thought I was nearly there…

And then she was pulled out of her thoughts when Harry moaned. Hermione was convulsing
around his cock, her legs shuddering as she threatened to collapse. Only Harry’s strong grip on
her hips stopped Hermione from falling over.

Then Harry grunted again.

Gabrielle watched silently from the side as Harry’s cock began to recoil in a manner Gabrielle had
seen before. He plunged deep into Hermione and held himself in place as he discharged what
Gabrielle surmised was load after hot load of his seed. The girls around him squealed.

Finally after nearly a minute, Harry pulled out, Hermione’s outer vaginal lips distending out as
Harry’s cock – gleaming with Hermione’s cum – spilled out and a spray of pussy juice mixed with
sperm – hemmed in by Harry’s cock – hit the ground, flowing out from Hermione’s gushing
quim.

The Head Girl shuddered as she collapsed against Harry’s thigh. He laughed and patted
Hermione’s head softly. He pulled Hermione up and kissed her. Hermione hugged him close as
Harry mauled her ass, pulling her cheeks apart. Gabrielle saw Hermione’s incredibly tiny slit part,
her lips still quivering with pleasure, as dollops of semen streamed out of it and ran down her
thighs. Almost like a twat was weeping. Hermione then turned around and Harry let her lean on
his chest; with a wave of his wand, Hermione’s skirt was back in place. He then pointed his wand
around at Hermione’s tummy from the front and murmured something. His wand glowed orange
and Hermione sighed.

Anti-pregnancy, Gabrielle thought.

And then he just held Hermione as they both stared out in a pleasant haze. The other girls leaned
against Harry from the sides as well.

Gabrielle frowned. She didn’t care about the other four – only Hermione concerned her.

Hermione… and the look in Harry’s eyes as he held her in his strong arms. Gabrielle had never
seen him look like that before. He looked like he was in…

No, Gabrielle thought furiously. She needed to talk to Ginny.

***

“You… what?” Gabrielle asked Ginny, “How many women did you let him sleep with?”

Ginny stared at Gabrielle. They were alone in their dormitory.

“I… uh,” and Ginny trailed off.

“Ginny, please,” Gabrielle pleaded.

“I guess… uh, Fleur,” Ginny said.

“I know that,” Gabrielle said. “But who else?”

“Angelina… that was just once though,” Ginny said, “Audrey seems to be… uh… interested as
well, but they haven’t really done anything yet. And… uh, my mom.”

“Your mother?” Gabrielle asked incredulously, then shook her head. She had no idea why the
redhead was doing this – she had initially chalked it up to being due to Ginny’s suppressed desire
for women. And that still could be the reason, but she felt like there was something far more
powerful at work here. She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth though.
“Fine,” Gabrielle said, as Ginny started to justify her actions, “Who else?”

“Hermione,” Ginny said flatly, “But that was just once… way before Christmas.”

Gabrielle really wanted to let Ginny know that Harry had been shagging Hermione as recently as
the day before, but she simply could not bring herself to say anything against her Harry.

“Why Hermione?” Gabrielle prodded.

“She’s attached to Ron,” Ginny said, “She’s not really in love with Harry or anything. All of the
girls that have… been… with Harry, have been attached in a relationship.” Ginny paused, then
added nastily, “Except for you.”

Gabrielle scoffed internally. Hermione was not really in love with Harry my foot.

“Ginny,” the half-veela said, her voice rising in pitch, “Angelina and Audrey are practically
strangers to Harry. One was once his Quidditch captain and teammate and the other is a model
he’s seen in posters. Your mother has been with your father for decades – she’s not going to leave
him now.”

“What about Fleur?” Ginny asked archly.

“My sister,” Gabrielle said through gritted teeth, “She has a wondrous ability to compartmentalize.
When she’s with Bill, she’s with Bill. And when she’s with Harry… trust me, she’s a slut. But
she’s no threat.”

“Threat?” Ginny asked shrilly, “To me?”

“To us,” Gabrielle said.

“Keep dreaming,” Ginny said, although her oft-repeated refrain had long since lost its sting.

“The real problem,” Gabrielle said, casually ignoring Ginny’s bluster, “… is Hermione Granger.
She’s been with your oaf of a brother for… what… months?”

“She’s been his friend for years,” Ginny protested.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabrielle said, “She has a lot more in common with Harry. She has nothing in
common with Ron, except for Harry.”

“I don’t see your point,” Ginny said coldly.

Gabrielle huffed. “Ginny,” she beseeched, “Hermione is in love with Harry. You can see it in her
eyes. She spends more time glaring at you than you do glaring at me. And you, of all people,
should know that if she ever comes out and dumps your brother for Harry, he’d accept it.”

“You don’t know that,” Ginny said, though Gabrielle could hear the doubt in her voice. After a
beat, Ginny said, “So… let me get this straight. You can join me in a relationship with Harry, but
Hermione cannot?”

“Hermione isn’t like us,” Gabrielle said, “She’ll never share a bed with you and Harry. She’ll be
in it only for Harry, not for you. And you know it.”

“And you expect me to believe you’re not in it for Harry too?” Ginny asked, crossing her arms.

“Of course I’m in it for Harry,” Gabrielle said, “But you know we have chemistry too. You know,
given time and Harry as a uniting factor, we could love each other Ginny. We could eventually
given time and Harry as a uniting factor, we could love each other Ginny. We could eventually
grow to hold equal places in his heart and can comfort each other when he’s not around.

“Can you say the same thing for Hermione? Do you think she ever settles for second place to
anyone but Harry?”

There was a very pregnant pause as Gabrielle finished.

“I… need to think,” Ginny said faintly.

With a sinking feeling, Gabrielle realized that she needed to work with Ginny if she wanted to
worm her place into his heart above Hermione. It would take two of them to match up against the
Head Girl.

***
 Showman

Hogsmeade, early December

“That last fight was amazing,” Nandini said happily, “Astoria, you shouldn’t be so down on
yourself.”

Ginny nodded. “Yep,” she said, “You gave it all you had. We all saw that. Your opponent saw
that.”

Astoria blushed. “Yeah,” she said, “He did.”

Demelza grinned. “Oh sure he did,” she said, “The rose and everything.”

“I don’t get it,” Gabrielle said, “I mean, I get that Artois is good. But he isn’t the best dueler
around. Surely not.”

Harry sighed. It was Hogsmeade weekend and his group of friends had taken over an entire table
at The Three Broomsticks. The Round of Sixteen had just finished last Friday – the last duel had
been between Astoria and a very handsome dueler from Beauxbatons who, for some reason, loved
conjuring up a single red rose after every win and gifting it to a lady he deemed “the fairest
maiden of the crowd.” La plus belle femme du foule.

“Oh, we all realize who the best dueler around is,” Natalie said in a flat voice, looking right at
Harry. He had beaten his Durmstrang opponent with less than three spells. Then she grinned and
continued, “But finishing in under a minute is so boring. Sure, he finished, but where’s the fun in
that?”

Gabrielle smiled. “I’m sure Harry can go for hours when it counts,” she said airily.

The girls looked around at Ginny, expecting her to huff as usual when Gabrielle said something
risqué about Harry, but Ginny just smirked and looked at Gabrielle. “Indeed,” the redhead said,
just as airily, “I would know.”

“I wouldn’t mind being Artois’ belle femme though,” Natalie said with a smile. Then she looked
at Astoria, “So where’s the rose he gave you?”

Astoria just shook her head. “I’m not going to keep it,” Astoria said hotly, “He gave it to me after
he beat me.”

“Very charming though,” Ginny supplied.

“And humiliating,” Gabrielle said, “It was almost condescending.”

Astoria nodded. Natalie just stared between Gabrielle and Astoria.

“Well,” Natalie said firmly, “I happen to think it’s very charming and chivalrous.”

“And sexist,” Gabrielle insisted.

Harry sighed again. Recently, he had begun to feel very restless - it was an unnatural, unpleasant
feeling. Almost like it was coming from outside his own mind. He felt frustrated and alternated
moods very rapidly – his mind was in turmoil. Although, Harry knew why – the Elder Wand was
not pleased with the action it was getting. And it was starting again – the ache, the bloodlust, the
pounding in his ears before he had taken on the giants in France. And being surrounded by good-
looking women did not help – it only seemed to make his lust stronger. He looked around at the
bar, hoping for something to distract him, only to spot Hagrid talking to Madam Rosmerta.

“Hagrid’s here,” he said happily, “He’s recovered.”

Ginny looked around. “That’s great,” the redhead said, “He seems to be in good shape.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, and then looked around at the girls. “Sorry, ladies, you’ll have to excuse me.
I’m going to go over and say hi to my oldest friend in the Wizarding World.”

The girls nodded. Ginny kissed him goodbye; Gabrielle and Demelza winked at him and Astoria
slapped his arse as he got up only to be met with a thunderous scowl from Ginny.

Harry grit his teeth as he felt Astoria smack his ass. Not helping, he thought as all the voices in his
head screamed at him to turn around and take Astoria like the whore that she was. She’s not a
whore, Harry thought hotly.

Harry moved away from the table as quickly as he could and made his way over to Hagrid
through the bustling crowd. He glanced back at the table and saw that his space had been taken
over by Hermione. Despite himself, he smiled – Hermione had been making a conscientious effort
to join his group of friends and he approved. She seemed to get along very well with Nandini and
Astoria. Ginny and Gabrielle were a bit guarded around her though – and Harry was pretty sure
he knew why.

He turned around and saw that he had reached the bar. He slapped a hand loudly on Hagrid’s
back and roared, “Hagrid! Y’alright?”

Hagrid turned in his seat – towering over Harry even when seated. A grin broke out across his
face and he smiled. “Harry! Yeh’re all grown up. Got some meat in yer body now, eh?”

Harry squeezed into the stool right next to Hagrid and gestured to Rosmerta for a glass of
butterbeer, dropping knuts onto the table.

“I guess I have,” he said nonchalantly, “How are things going?”

“’M fine,” Hagrid said, “Been spendin’ the last year travelling ‘round Eastern Europe.”

“Looking for magical creatures?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Hagrid said, “Been meetin’ with giants too. A lot keener to negotiate now that… Tom…
is gone.”

He shuddered, shaking his stool in the process.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

“Yeh saved me,” Hagrid said somberly as he waved him off, “Yeh saved all of us. Harry, I’m
proud of yeh – nothin’ to be sorry about.”

“No,” Harry murmured, “It wasn’t just me. It was everyone. Neville, Hermione, Ron,
Dumbledore, Snape, you – it was all of us that saved ourselves.”

Hagrid smiled faintly. Harry nudged him and asked, “So, you’re liaising with the giants for…
someone?”

“Yeah,” Hagrid said, his voice rising again as they moved on to more comfortable topics, “For the
ICW. They’ve seen what the giants can do when they’re not cared for. The ICW wants to work
toward a future where all beings are considered equal an’ all that.”

“I see,” Harry said, “They want to avoid the rise of another Voldemort. He succeeded in wooing
all of these creatures to their side because of a perceived disparity between how humans treated
themselves and how humans treated them. Understandable.”

Hagrid looked at him curiously. After a pause, he said, “Yeh’ve changed Harry. Yeh sound like
Dumbledore.”

“I…” Harry started and then murmured, “Thank you.”

***

Harry saw the girls get up and leave after an hour. Ginny looked at him questioningly and Harry
shook his head, indicating that they could go on without him. She nodded and left with the rest of
the gang.

Harry turned back to his conversation with Hagrid. They had talked about giant customs, about
how Grawp was doing and about Norbert in Romania.

Harry felt really happy for Hagrid - the half-giant seemed to be doing very well for himself. But
now, as the conversation proceeded, Harry had a sudden epiphany. Hagrid was one of the few
people that could really tell him about Dumbledore without getting too suspicious when Harry
asked some strange questions. Harry didn’t quite like using his friend in this manner, but he
needed that information.

There was a brief pause in the conversation and Harry pushed forth, “Hagrid,” Harry said, “I…
uh… sort of had a request to ask of you.”

Hagrid’s bushy eyebrows rose up. “Sure, Harry,” he said.

“During the… war, there were a lot of things I had to do. With you know, Ron and Hermione.
Many of the things I did, though, were… beyond my comprehension.”

Hagrid stared at him, beetle-black eyes looking at him in concern.

“Basically, I did stuff Dumbledore had asked of me. I didn’t quite understand what I was doing
though – it’s sort of a very intricate puzzle and like I was just a chess piece Dumbledore was
moving around after his… passing.”

Hagrid’s eyes radiated warmth. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he said, “But Dumbledore – great man –
thought the world of yeh.”

“I know,” Harry said, “but there were certain things he left unsaid that I don’t truly understand.
And I’m trying to put the pieces together now. For that though, I need your help.”

Hagrid frowned, though the warmth in his eyes did not lessen. “I trust yeh, Harry,” the half-giant
said, “What do yeh need from me?”

“Memories,” Harry said, “I need memories – not all of them. Just a few memories of Dumbledore
from the time you knew him. One memory – for every five years since you landed at Hogwarts.”
Hagrid looked confused. “I don’t mind doing tha’, Harry,” he said, “But… why do yeh want that?
Do yeh want specific memories?”

Harry shook his head. “I… don’t know why Dumbledore never told you about this whole thing,
Hagrid,” Harry said, “But if you do want to know exactly what Dumbledore told me, I will tell
you.”

Hagrid shook his head. “If Dumbledore swore yeh to secrecy, I don’t want to know. I trust both of
yeh.”

“Thank you, Hagrid,” Harry said with a smile – and his smile was genuine. “I’m honored that you
place so much trust in me. I assure you – I don’t really want any personal memories. Just
memories of Dumbledore at the Opening Feast, or doing some magic, or some such. And one
memory for every five years from the time you knew him. That’s it.”

Hagrid nodded. “Sounds good to me, Harry,” he said. Then he asked, “When do yeh want to do
this?”

“How does tomorrow evening sound?” Harry asked.

“I’ll be in my cabin,” Hagrid said, “’Bout time yeh lot came around for tea.”

Harry grinned. “I’m so glad you came out alright Hagrid,” he said, “I’ll be there. And not just for
the memories. But for the pleasure of keeping a very old friend company.”

Hagrid nodded and patted him on the back, sending Harry flying into his glass of butterbeer.

***

Harry walked out of The Three Broomsticks whistling a jaunty tune. He made his way through
the town, occasionally greeting other students and frowning at posters of Artois all over the place
– the French student had practically become the face of the tournament with his grandiose
flourishes, intricate spell-casting and red rose conjurations.

And that was when a voice interrupted his reverie.

“Not happy about the posters, are we?” a husky female voice said, as Harry saw yet another poster
of Artois with a red rose superimposed on it, “I know the feeling. I hate it when other models take
up shelf space that belonged to me before.”

Harry turned around and looked straight into the blue eyes of Audrey Dittmar, soon to be Audrey
Weasley. He cocked his head to the side as he admired the woman standing in front of him. She
had a tall, statuesque figure with breasts that were more than a handful and legs that seemed to go
on forever. Her lush blonde hair hung in ringlets over her back. High cheekbones, a sharp chin
and a cute, perky nose only added to her beauty. She was quite a bit taller than Harry and was
dressed in a black three-quarter sleeve jacket over a satin sheath that was apparently an off-
shoulder stretch – Harry could see that her neck was bare. She looked almost… muggle.

Yet, despite her incredible attractiveness, she had this air around her – the slight frown at the
edges of her lips, or the upturned. But unlike, say, Narcissa Malfoy – who wore a similar
expression – it was clear that Audrey wasn’t really being condescending. She didn’t actually think
others were beneath her – it just seemed as if she was just incredibly uncomfortable around large
crowds. And even at Easter, while she had been very gracious when talking one-on-one with
Harry, she had been a bit short with the rest of the Weasley males when they crowded her. Harry
surmised that she had led a slightly sheltered life and was just a bit shy with large crowds.
And here she was, talking to him again.

“Miss Dittmar,” Harry greeted.

Audrey raised a dainty hand in the air and waved at him, “Please, call me Audrey.”

“Harry,” he said and held out a hand. She placed her own hand in his, instead of shaking it, so
Harry had no choice but to kiss her hand. He felt a bit… medieval.

Audrey giggled.

“What are you doing in this part of Hogsmeade, Harry?” she asked curiously.

Harry looked around – they were standing in the alley behind the Hog’s Head. “I was actually
hoping to speak to the bartender here,” he said mildly, “But he’s apparently closed up shop.”

Audrey was still peering at him inquisitively. “Abe?” she asked. “Oh, old Abe said he’d be taking
a vacation for a year. He’ll be back sometime in March, I think.”

“You know the… er… bartender?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Audrey replied, “He’s my landlord.”

“Right,” Harry said, completely taken aback by the notion of Aberforth Dumbledore owning
property. Then again, he did own a bar.

“Care to walk me home, Harry?” she asked.

Harry looked around, puzzled. “You live here?” he asked.

Audrey nodded. She clutched her jacket tighter around herself and said, “Just beyond the new
WWW branch.”

“Of course,” Harry said. He walked alongside her as they made their way to her home.

“So,” she said conversationally as they walked past the milling crowd of Hogwarts students.
Harry saw quite a few boys staring at Audrey as she walked past, but never quite whistling or
making weird comments at her. Harry supposed she gave off this sense of forbidden beauty – like
she was a fruit no one could dare touch. Not unlike Fleur when Harry had first met her.

“So,” he replied.

Audrey giggled again. It was very incongruous with her normal haughty personality and Harry
was a bit taken aback.

“Dueling isn’t really my thing,” she said, “But I’ve been watching the Hogwarts matches.
They’ve been… interesting. Congratulations for making it through the Round of Sixteen.”

Harry shrugged.

Audrey continued, “It was very impressive – you putting down that Durmstrang girl in fifteen
seconds. But so… anti-climactic.”

“So I’ve heard,” Harry muttered.

Audrey turned to look at him and Harry noticed how her skin seemed to gleam in the sunlight.
Blood pounded in his ears with renewed will. Take her. Use her. Satisfy us.
Dammit, Harry thought, here we go again.

“When I do shoots… you know… modeling,” she said, “They usually tell me to model an outfit
or this dress or that suit. Or this skirt. And I’ve often been told by my photographer that I’m the
best model he’s shot with. Do you know why?”

Through the haze of lust that was taking him, Harry looked at her, intrigued. He hadn’t quite
expected the conversation to go in this direction.

“Because where other models pose functionally, I pose for me.”

Despite himself, Harry was puzzled. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said.

“If asked to model an outfit, what would you do?” she asked rhetorically and then continued, “I
think you’d wear it and then pose before the camera. The photographer will tell you to turn this
way, and then that way, so that the light frames the clothes at just the right angle. But it’s fake –
there’s no art to it. You might as well throw the clothes onto a dummy and photograph the
dummy.

“The reason I’m considered the go-to supermodel in the Wizarding World, is because I don’t just
wear the clothes and pose. I flaunt them. I turn, I dance, I flirt with the camera. And that is what
makes me so effective.”

Harry had to admire her pride in her work – she was almost arrogant. There was nary a doubt in
her voice as she told him about herself. At the same time, he could see that she had a point.

“So,” he said, “You think I should let the duel drag for a bit, just to show off?”

Audrey looked askance at him. “Don’t think of it as showing off, Harry. Think of it as
performance art. For the crowd.”

Harry grinned. “I guess that’s what Artois does, eh?” he asked.

“Indeed,” Audrey said, “The Frenchman isn’t anywhere near as good as you are – that’s obvious
to any discerning witch or wizard - but he makes up for it with showmanship and the ladies swoon
over him. If you’re in this duel for the experience, sure, go ahead with your current thing. But if
you’re in this duel for a bit more – the applause, the blood rushing through your ears as the crowd
roars in tune with your every move – you have to weave a story with your wand. There has to be
a start, a middle and a climactic finish. Not just one wave of the wand and an anti-climactic end
where you disarm your opponent in a single move.”

Harry was surprised – the woman was astute. Of course, there was blood rushing through his ears
now, screaming at him to pound her into dust.

“Oh,” Audrey said suddenly, “We’re here.” She looked at Harry, her eyes warm. “Care to come
in?”

Great, Harry thought. “Of course,” Harry said, and his smile turned predatory.

***

Harry and Audrey were sitting at the dining table in Audrey’s flat and were sipping tea that Harry
had helpfully prepared for both of them using the ingredients in her kitchen – of course, Harry was
hoping to distract himself from his close proximate to a gorgeous supermodel, but the tea turned
out decent enough.
Audrey sipped at her tea and then gave a sigh of approval. “Your tea is heavenly, Harry,” she
said.

“Thank you,” Harry replied, though he would rather not get complimented on talents the Dursleys
had taught him. He switched topics. “So, how’s Percy these days? I hear he’s Junior
Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic now.”

Audrey’s expression turned blank. “Yes,” she said, “He’s quite happy these days.”

Then she bit her lip and looked right at Harry, her expression troubled.

“Something on your mind, Audrey?” Harry asked, “There’s a reason you asked me to step in,
isn’t there?”

“I…” she said, and trailed off. She took a deep breath and said, “Wearehavingproblemsinbed.”

Harry blinked. “I… I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that, Audrey.”

She sighed. “Percy and I,” she said as she bent her head down to look at her lap, her face flushed
red, “We’re… having problems. In bed.”

Harry suddenly felt his blood rush to his groin. His head swam and his vision turned red and then
back again. Feral instincts surged through his veins, and his persona – so intricately held together
– crashed into pieces, forging anew with bestial links urging him to move the conversation
forward.

Harry kept his face utterly blank through it all. Blood and lust, the Elder Wand whispered, that is
all.

“I see,” he said, and Audrey shivered as his voice changed its timbre. The temperature in the room
rose and the very air seemed to be tingling with magic.

“So,” Harry persisted, “Why are you telling me this, Audrey?”

Audrey stuttered, “Percy… h-he was intrigued by what… F-F-Fleur said at the Easter P-p-party.”

“Fleur told you,” Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper, “About me?”

Audrey nodded shakily – she was unnerved at how fast the mood was changing and her emotions
were heaving back and forth.

“So… h-he wanted me to c-c-c-come to you,” she finished.

“To learn?” Harry asked.

Audrey nodded quickly, still staring down at her lap.

“But what do you want?” Harry queried.

She peered up at him, her blonde hair falling over her face. “At first… I was taken aback,” she
told him, her voice still shaking, “But… but… now…”

She took another deep breath, brushed her hair back and said, in a very formal voice. “I just
wanted you to show me, at your convenience…”

“Wait,” Harry interrupted, “This is a bit unreal. There are self-help books on how to deal with this
sort of thing. Why come to me? A complete stranger?”
“Because, in Percy’s words… you seem to be in the loop. He knows about… Molly. And Fleur.
And Angelina called me a few weeks ago…”

“So Percy knows about Angelina too?”

“No,” Audrey said, “But I do.”

“So,” Harry asked, “Exactly what have you been having problems with?”

“I… I…” Audrey stammered.

“Ha,” Harry said, “I knew it. Your husband just wants to see you fuck another man.”

Audrey gulped.

“It’s okay, Audrey,” Harry said in conciliatory fashion, “I’m not going to judge Percy for his…
fetish.”

Of course, Harry thought, Percy’s still a moron.

“So…” Audrey asked, “You accept?”

Harry just grinned at her, leaning back in his chair.

Audrey blushed. “So… I just need to… we need to decide on a place and time, and Percy and
I…”

Harry interrupted. “How about here,” he asked, “And now?”

Audrey stared at him. “I… this… Percy,” she stuttered.

“Forget about Percy,” Harry said nonchalantly, “Let’s get started now. We can always do this in
front of your husband later.”

And then he leapt from his chair and crossed over to Audrey. She stood up with a start and tried to
back away, keeping her chair between her and Harry, but he just pushed it aside. The chair
smashed to the ground and Harry was suddenly pressing up against Audrey – she was at least a
head taller than him, but his movement had caused her to back into the table; her back was arched
and they were now eye to eye.

“Harry,” she breathed, her eyes never leaving his own, “I… I’m not sure this… is okay…”

Harry just grinned at her and whispered, “Just let go, Audrey.”

***

Audrey shrieked as Harry grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. He pushed at her back,
bending her right over the table, with her rear right against his abdomen. Audrey half-heartedly
tried to push him off, but Harry pinned both her arms to the table, with his upper torso bent over
her own back. He pushed back and forth slowly, and Audrey felt something enormous rub against
her arse.

“No,” she gasped, even as she felt herself grown very wet.

She was mortified. He had caught her bluff – Percy did want to see her with Harry, but she did
not want to just come out and say it to the most famous wizard of her generation. And she had
been taken aback at first – she did not even think Harry would accept it – but then, as the weeks
went by, she had been more and more turned on by the fact that she would be sleeping with the
Savior of the Wizarding World himself.

Harry slowly slid down her body and his hands came off her own. Audrey tried to lift them off the
table, but they had apparently been spelled – they were glued to the table. Audrey rose off the
table nonetheless and looked over her shoulder at Harry. He was now on his knees and he’d taken
his shirt off. His muscled body gleamed in the light of the room and Audrey felt her mouth go dry
at the sight.

His hands were now slowly feeling up her legs. They slid up her bare calves, to the back of her
knees. Harry kissed the crook behind her left knee and Audrey felt something warm and tingly
spread across her skin. A moan escaped her mouth. Harry grinned up at her and Audrey blushed.

“Enjoying this, are we?” he asked.

“I… no… I…” Audrey stammered.

His hands kneaded up her thighs, squeezing and massaging the flesh. “You have gorgeous legs,”
Harry said.

And then Audrey let out an “eep” as she felt Harry’s hands on her ass, feeling all over it. His
fingers pressed right into the soft flesh of her cheeks and he squeezed them firmly.

“Harry, no… please…” Audrey whispered.

Harry just looked up and grinned at her as he lifted her dress right over her arse. He pulled her
panties down and Audrey squealed as she felt cool air rush across her now naked genitals. She felt
goosebumps traverse her arse.

Harry slapped both hands on her asscheeks and shook them, squeezing into them again. She
shrieked.

“Ye gods!” he said happily, palpitating her ass with his hands, “Your ass is deceptively big! You
look thin and slender, but pull your dress up and these magical jiggling cheeks pop out. They’re
wonderful.”

Audrey felt her arousal grow as she felt her ass cheeks slap against each other – she was being
mauled by Harry’s strong hands.

And then he dove in. He buried his face right in between her ass cheeks and started shaking his
head rapidly, wobbling her asscheeks back and forth as he licked all over the place.

“Harry!” Audrey half-squealed half-moaned and her eyes closed in pleasure. She gasped and
leaned on the table for support, her face now looking straight ahead.

Harry was still kneading and pulling her ass as he licked all around her crack. And Audrey
moaned, “Harry! It’s dirty!”

Harry slurped and rose off. “Not quite,” he said, “I scourgified it.”

When? Audrey thought helplessly.

And she felt Harry’s fat tongue licking down her ass. She felt his tongue go rigid as it poked into
her starfish.
“Harry…” Audrey gasped, “No one’s ever…”

“Done this to you before?” Harry completed, raising his head away from her ass. Then he dove
back in again.

Her hole started opening up and relaxing as Harry’s tongue repeatedly dove in and out. He licked
and lapped at it like it was made of honey. Gasps and moans tumbled out of Audrey as she lay
right on the table, helpless and pinned down.

Then, his tongue trailed down again. Down the curve of her ass, lapping at her cheeks hungrily as
he slid down across her…

“MERLIN,” Audrey squealed as she felt him licking around her pussy lips. She was very wet.

“Merlin, indeed,” Harry said, and she moaned as Harry’s tongue drew away from her lips,
“You’re soaking wet. You sure you’re not into this?”

“I… I’m not… I don’t…” but Audrey was unable to complete her sentence as she felt Harry’s
face between her thighs again as he traced her lower lips with his tongue.

And then he was not licking around her slit, but along the opening – long languid licks that traced
down and then slid up, pushing up her clitoral hood as he lapped right at her nub with his nose in
her ass.

Audrey tried really hard not to compare him with Percy, but a small, nasty voice at the back of her
head told her that her fiancé did not even come close to this. Harry’s tongue actually vibrated as
he licked along her clitoris, drawing out loud moans from her mouth as her clit quivered over
Harry’s thirsty tongue.

Then Harry was in. Her lips parted to give way to his tongue as it delved deep into her, circling
and twisting like a hungry snake, licking and touching places his tongue shouldn’t have been able
to reach. And even as his tongue twisted inside her, making her pussy gush, his lips encircled her
vaginal opening, mashing against them skilfully. His hands were still playing with her ass,
mauling them for all he was worth, leaving her cheeks red with the force of his kneading.
Audrey’s legs trembled.

And that was when his tongue started vibrating. Audrey shrieked. “NNNNOOOOOOOO!” she
screamed shrilly as her pussy fluttered around his tongue, trying to milk it and her body seized up
and shuddered as she came violently. Juices gushed down his tongue and into his mouth as she
seized up in the throes of pleasure.

Harry drew off her cunt and stood up as Audrey thrashed on the table and her legs trembled as
they struggled to hold her up. She shuddered and twisted for nearly a minute, before her spasms
began to die down.

“H-how did… what…” she said confusedly, as she lay with her upper torso entirely on the table.

She felt something hard poking into her asshole. She rose up shakily and moaned as she looked
around to see Harry extending his forefinger right into her ass.

But that was not what caught her attention. What really alarmed her was the enormous dome that
was currently spooning her cunt lips. Harry was naked from the waist down and she could see
his… thing now. It was monstrous. She could see an enormous cylindrical thing extending out
from Harry’s midriff, veined and bestial, with the barest bristles of hair around its base. It was
enormous. And it seemed to extend out from his body for ever, and vanished between her thighs,
pushing under her ass.
Her soaked pussy lips parted as Harry pushed in, his crown popping past her lips into her tight
canal.

“Harry!” she shrieked, “SO NNNGGGGGGHHH… BIG!”

With dazed eyes, Audrey saw Harry’s shaft sink in, inch by inch, pushing her apart ever so
pleasantly as his monstrous penis crawled and stuffed its way into her vagina. Audrey gasped and
moaned as her pussy stretched around his cock – she hadn’t felt anything like this before.

And Audrey squealed again as she felt her cervix being pushed by Harry’s cock. She just stared at
Harry, wide-eyed as her cervix bumped up and just continued to be hemmed in his enormous
cockhead. He was practically in her womb now.

After several seconds filled with pleasure, she dimly realized that Harry’s midriff was now right
on her ass, her asscheeks yielding against his muscled abs.

Her insides were stretched.

“Your cunt feels so… hot… on my cock,” Harry said happily.

Audrey just stared at him, wide-eyed. Harry was grinning and his face was soaked – Audrey
realized she had gushed all over his face and blushed. With a start, she realized that her jacket was
off and that her hands were no longer glued to the table – all she was wearing now was her sheath
that was bunched up around her ass. How does he do that? She thought. But she wasn’t even
thinking of protesting now.

“Please,” she moaned.

“Please… what?” Harry asked, “Please go away and come back when Percy’s around?”

Audrey’s blush turned an even deeper shade of red. “Please… fuck… me,” she said bravely.

And Harry pulled. Audrey moaned as her cervix snapped back in and her vagina seemed to
tighten back up as Harry’s immense girth withdrew, leaving her feeling empty. And then, just as
his cockhead ground against her G-spot, he slammed back in.

Audrey shrieked as Harry’s speared his length right back into her pussy smoothly – she was
gushing at this point – and bashed into her cervix. And then Harry repeated the motion. He pulled
and slammed again, drawing out another shriek.

And then he built up a rhythm. Audrey’s shrieks turned into one continuous scream as Harry
bashed at her insides repeatedly, spearing her at will, and grinding her pussy into mush.

Percy was never like this, the same nasty voice whispered in her head as Audrey screamed out her
pleasure to the high heavens, holding onto her dining table for dear life as Harry pounded back
and forth.

And then something else burst. Dimly, Audrey realized that Harry was now fingering her ass with
his forefinger while fucking her cunt silly.

“You like that, Audrey?” Harry asked, “You like my finger in your ass and my cock in your juicy
cunt?”

Audrey tried to protest, tried to say that she hadn’t had anything shoved up there before… but all
she could do was scream the first letter of her refusal, “NNNNNNNNNNNNNN!”
Her cunt started fluttering all over again and Audrey shouted,
“CUMMMMMMIIIIINNNNNNGGG!”

Harry was relentless though – he kept spearing back and forth even as her pussy fluttered around
his marauding cock and her juices sprayed all over the place. She was screaming on the table now,
her fingernails scratching away at the lacquered wood as her body shuddered violently.

“You’re soaking my cock,” Harry gloated.

And then he withdrew completely, popping out of her cunt – his fingers were out of her arse too -
and Audrey’s scream petered out into a confused moan. Mercilessly, Harry manhandled her as he
turned her over onto her back. Audrey spasmed and twitched as she looked confusedly into
Harry’s eyes.

And then she felt his massive cockhead push at her quivering vaginal lips again. “Pleassssse,”
Audrey hissed – she wanted him in her again. She wanted to feel that massive thing inside of her,
using her and making her scream.

Instead, Harry curled a fist around his cock and started shaking it, pushing her lips this way and
that, as his head mashed into her clitoris.

“NO!” Audrey shrieked as her orgasm just seemed to go on and on. “SENSITIVE!”

And then, Harry withdrew and slapped his hand down on her cunt and Audrey squealed. He
pushed two fingers inside, curled them up and started pushing back and forth, right against her…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Audrey screamed, as her orgasm picked up its second wind and
struck with renewed vigor, “BASTARD!”

Her pussy sloshed as her pushed and scraped against her g-spot with powerful fingers, fucking her
up and down with his hand.

It’s a good thing I’m lying on the table now, Audrey thought as her body flailed around helplessly
with the force of her orgasm. Her legs felt useless as they thrashed around Harry’s hips.

His fingers withdrew, soaked with her juices, and then pushed into her rectum – her asshole,
which had been slightly loosened up from his probing earlier, now snuggled around his forefinger
and middle finger as he slammed them back and forth, pushing her legs up around his shoulders.
Audrey’s spasms were dying down and her body was slowly returning back to her control.

But Harry was apparently having none of that. He pulled back, still fingering her ass from below
as he pushed his cock right back into her tunnel.

Audrey moaned. “You utter bastard,” she panted as her orgasm threatened to build up again.

And Harry thrust forward again, spearing her insides as he built up another rhythm, hammering
her vagina with rapid, short thrusts.

Audrey just had time for a sarcastic, Great. And then her mind went blank again as her vision
blurred and yet another orgasm – or perhaps the same orgasm, going on forever – rocked her
body. Again.

“FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUUUUCCCCKKK MEEEEEE!” she screamed stupidly

as Harry pulverized her twat with his meat. Her toes were curling now, and she felt spasms rock
her entire body – up her her scalp as the world burst into myriad colors, searing across her eyes.
After what felt like hours of thrusting to Audrey (but was probably only minutes), Harry withdrew
again.

Audrey felt like she was on a muggle roller coaster – crescendo upon crescendo of intense
emotion, followed by short, deceptively quiet moments of pleasure. She was panting on the table
now with her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Dimly, she realized that his fingers were still sawing
between her asscheeks and she moaned. It was like he was using her body like a sex puppet,
pushing her around as if she was dangling by strings.

Before she even realized it, he had pushed her across the table. Her face was now right near the
edge of the table. She felt rather than saw Harry make his way around the table so that he was
right in her field of vision.

And Harry’s massive cock slapped onto her left cheek – her head was turned sideways so that her
right cheek was on the table. His slimy cock rolled all over her face, lathering her with her own
pussy juices. Audrey moaned and breathed in deeply – it smelt amazing to her.

But then, his cockhead pushed insistently at her lips and Audrey realized what he wanted. Her
eyes – closed up to this point – opened with a start and her vision was practically filled with
Harry’s enormous shaft. Her eyes crossed and she whimpered as she saw Harry’s massive crown
push at her lips.

“Suck it,” he ordered.

Audrey turned her face away reflexively, away from Harry’s cock. She had never done this
before. She had only been with three men so far, excluding Harry – and she had never done this
for them. She had never been inclined to.

No, Audrey thought, I’m not going to do stuff with Harry that I’ve not even done for my fiancé.

Ah, another voice whispered at the back of her mind, But it smells so nice.

And Harry chose that moment to slap his cock onto her right cheek and just let it lay there.

“C’mon, Audrey,” Harry said, “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

No, Audrey thought, trying not to turn around and give his juicy-looking man-meat a short lick, It
does smell nice… but no.

Why not, the other voice asked.

Because it’s not my… thing.

Why not?

Harry was now slapping his cock back and forth onto her right cheek.

“Fine,” Audrey gasped suddenly, “I… uh… I’ll kiss it.”

“Kiss?” Harry asked, but his voice was amused.

“One… short… kiss,” Audrey said.

There was a pause. Then, Harry said, “Agreed. Unless you want it to go further.”

Audrey tentatively turned her face around and her vision was filled with his massive cockhead
again. It was soaked with her own juices, mixed with his pre-cum and it glistened juicily before
again. It was soaked with her own juices, mixed with his pre-cum and it glistened juicily before
her.

She puckered her lips into a kiss and Harry pushed his dome up at her lips. She breathed in the
pleasant scent, and her tongue flickered out, licking briefly at his cock.

“Looks like you want more,” Harry said casually and pushed.

“NNNNFFFFFF!” Audrey tried to protest, but her mouth opened despite herself and stretched
around Harry’s marauding crown.

She glared up at him as his cockhead burst into her mouth, even as her tongue frantically tried to
lick desperate circles around his dome, and Harry had the nerve to grin back at her.

Bastard, she thought, as she slurped noisily at his shaft.

“So… your juices taste good Audrey?”

“NNNFFF… BNFFFF BNNFFFF!” Audrey screamed as she kept licking around his penis.
Bastard, she thought again, stupid bastard with his big fat tasty cock.

And then Harry let go and drew all the way out of her mouth. Startled, she grabbed hold of his
cock before he could pull out of reach.

“I thought you didn’t like my cock in your mouth?” Harry asked.

“Fuck you,” Audrey snarled, tugging at his penis.

“You want it back in?” Harry asked. Audrey kept tugging, trying to pull his cockhead closer to
her lips.

“YES!” she screamed. She didn’t know if she was angry at herself or aroused, but she wanted
more of that taste.

Then she opened her mouth as wide as it would go and gave another mighty tug on his cock.
Harry obliged and shoved right back in. Only, he didn’t stop once his head was in; he pushed so
that his crown burst into her throat and she gagged.

She choked and munched and slobbered all over his cock to the best of her ability as he hammered
back and forth into her mouth like it was her pussy. And she couldn’t stop trying to taste every
inch she could reach – she needed this. She wanted this. She wanted to lick at his fat cock like it
was a lollipop for ever and ever. She wanted to choke on his cock for the cover of Playwizard.

And then, after several minutes of working her mouth, until her throat felt like it was on fire, Harry
withdrew, leaving Audrey panting numbly on the table.

Suddenly, his hands were all over her body, turning her over and pulling her towards the edge of
the table again. Her legs dangled over and touched the floor – she was in the same position she
had been when he had pinned her palms to the table at the beginning of this terrific encounter.

“You think you can just push around the Witch of the Year, Harry?” she panted.

“Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than push you around,” Harry said mildly.

And then she something far more enormous than fingers poke at her puckered rosebud.

She tensed, and then relaxed. She was beyond protest now – she wanted him in there now. He
had pushed her around like a common street whore and been the first man to ever enter her mouth.
The first to make her feel like this, the first to make her have orgasm after orgasm… she needed
him to take everything now.

She wriggled her ass as Harry squeezed her cheeks and pulled them apart – she felt cool breeze hit
her asshole, which had loosened up due to Harry’s fingering earlier.

“God, this ass is gorgeous,” Harry said harshly as he pushed. His dome pressed against her snug
bumhole, prising apart her rectal walls as he slowly stuffed into her.

“Fuck,” she moaned.

Then he stopped.

***

Harry watched his cock stretch Audrey’s ass apart with its girth – his cock was well-lubricated
with Audrey’s juices and spit, not to mention his own pre-cum – and her walls hugged his crown
like nothing had before. The blood rushed through his ears and he wanted to conquer this. He
wanted to let go.

But he couldn’t. He had never had anal sex before – and…

Look at that amazing arse, just fuck it. Fuck it. Use her dumper. Just take her where she’s never
been taken before.

But there was another voice at the back of his head – a voice that told him this was not how he
wanted this to go. Only, he did not quite hear words so much as a loud, blaring noise. A rush of
wind, a powerful quiver of his very soul.

No.

Harry withdrew and slammed his cock into Audrey’s twat again. “NO!” he roared. Not like this.

His thrusts were now savage, feral, bestial – no longer a systematic rhythm so much as a rough,
pounding motion that was irregular, slowing down, speeding up, fucking and fucking and fucking.

And Audrey’s walls were spasming around his shaft again, her quim gushed around his cock and
Audrey screamed as she clawed at the table in pleasure. And the pain. And then pleasure. Over
and over, pushing her beyond ecstasy, beyond relief, beyond tolerance.

Harry knew, at the back of his mind, that he had just disobeyed an urge from the Elder Wand.
And it had struck back with vengeance. He was roaring to the room now, hammering savagely at
Audrey’s tight quim and the Elder Wand wanted its pound of flesh.

Magic swirled around him, pulsing angrily and Harry just slammed away, lost to the world, his
mind a vision of red.

He slammed and thrust and destroyed. Her walls fluttered at an incredible frequency,
spasmodically clenching at his fat cock, surrendering meekly to his length and girth.

“PLEASE!” Audrey screamed, “CANNOT! TAKE! MORE!”

He didn’t care. He did not want to care. He did not think he was capable of care, or love, or any
human emotion. He was a beast, taking for himself. Rutting. Fucking. Copulating.
***

Audrey had no idea how much time had passed since Harry had started slamming away brutally
into her vagina. His roar filled her ears even as his enormous penis filled her cunt, and slammed
into her womb. There was no rhythm here, no measured thrusts… just ridiculously rapid
movements that reduced her to jelly.

She was beyond orgasm now – or perhaps her orgasm had just gone on for so long that bliss
became a state of mind. The world rushed around her, colors flashing across her field of vision –
she was being melted, sculpted and re-forged by a demon, her vagina molding itself to the shape
of his cock. She had long since ceased to be – she had ascended a plane of existence where there
was absolutely nothing apart from this… beyond pleasure, beyond pain.

Her world went black and then burst into color again. Audrey drifted in and out of consciousness,
waking up to balls slapping against her ass and a cock spearing into her cunt, and then falling into
the bliss of oblivion again.

She screamed for help, for him to stop, for him to make her cum, for him to make her scream…
but this demon did not have ears. It seemed to have no senses save for one – an urge to pulverize
and conquer her insides ten times over.

And eventually, after an eternity of fucking, of savagery, of pleasure, of pain, Audrey dimly
registered the fact that Harry had just bashed into her cervix and stayed there. Pulsing, recoiling,
shooting. Hot semen filled her womb and splashed all over her inner walls, sloshing out of her
pussy in streams along with her own rivers of cum.

And then Audrey fainted.

***

The blood pounding in his ears slowly receded, and Harry’s vision cleared. The feelings of lust, of
thirst, of retribution… had been quenched. And that was when the full force of what he had just
done hit Harry. He just stood there, in utter bewilderment, looking at an absolutely drenched
Audrey Weasley. Her body was covered in sweat and the table was absolutely covered in her
fluids. She was entirely comatose and her gaping cunt was leaking his semen onto the floor.

Crap, Harry thought morosely, it happened again.

He had completely lost control of himself. The last time he had lost control of himself was when
he had had sex with Fleur and Gabrielle – then, he had let the Elder Wand just take control and
held on for the ride. This time, however, he had refused to listen to his wand, and had paid the
price for his disobedience – he had lost all sense of decorum and humanity and had pounded
Audrey into a simpering mess.

With a start, he realized that it was pitch black outside – he must have been at it for at least two
hours.

Enough, Harry thought firmly, it’s time I learned how to control this.

And then he remembered he had an appointment with Hagrid. He needed to get away from
Audrey – he needed the comfort of Hagrid’s company, despite the half-giant’s obliviousness.

Harry floated Audrey over from the dining table to the bed, cleaned her with a spell, and covered
her in her sheets. He prepared a bowl of water and orange juice for when she woke up and placed
them on her bedside table. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, looking at her serene face for a
minute, before he turned to leave.
But a voice stopped him. “Harry?” Audrey’s voice wafted over.

He sighed and turned around. “Hey Audrey,” he said, looking at her again.

She looked bewildered for a moment, then seemed to realize what had happened. She blushed. “I
fainted, didn’t I?” she asked.

“Audrey,” Harry said, “I’m sorry. I should’ve been more… gentle. I just…”

Audrey interrupted. “Harry,” she said fervently, “That. Was. Awesome. And you can always be
gentle the next time around.”

“Next time, eh?” Harry asked.

Her blush still strong on her face, Audrey whispered, “Yeah.”

“I see,” Harry said quietly.

Audrey put her head back onto the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, her face pink. “And next
time,” she said, her voice firm, “You’re definitely taking my anal virginity.”

Harry just grinned at her, said goodbye and left the flat. She mumbled goodbye sleepily and sank
right back into her deep sleep again.

***

Midnight, Sunday, Hogwarts

Harry still felt a little guilty for fleeing like that from Audrey’s place, but he had needed to get
away.

The talk with Hagrid the next day had done him good, in any case – they had perused memories
of Dumbledore from Hagrid’s school years right up to Harry’s, all with the help of the Pensieve
Hagrid had helpfully secured from McGonagall.

And it had been very enlightening. Hagrid had assembled several memories of magical feats
performed by Dumbledore – much more than Harry had asked for, but he was thankful. He
needed as wide a sample as possible to determine what he really wanted to know.

Why had Dumbledore not been affected by the Elder Wand’s aura? Why had it not influenced
Dumbledore like it had influenced Harry? Was he particularly susceptible? Or was Dumbledore so
accomplished in the mental arts that he was not susceptible to the Elder Wand’s suggestions at all?

And he had found something astonishing within the memories. In every single one of them, right
up to his great duel with Voldemort at the Ministry, Dumbledore had always used his wand. The
Elder Wand never seemed to be on hand.

Of course, Harry surmised Dumbledore could have just kept the Elder Wand hidden just as Harry
did and alternated between his original wand and the Deathstick.

But something seemed… off. One thing was clear though – Harry needed to find out more about
how Dumbledore had not succumbed to the Elder Wand’s lure. And if he had succumbed, Harry
needed to find out how he kept it hidden from the world.

However, this time around, he needed to speak to someone who really knew Dumbledore – who
knew Dumbledore’s flaws and would be able to point them out to Harry. Who could single out
how Dumbledore had changed, if he had changed.

He needed to bide his time and wait for Aberforth to return. Hopefully, Harry would be able to
maintain some semblance of control in the meantime.

In any case, the quarterfinals for the Contest of Wands were coming up soon.

***
 Investigator

Christmas Day, Forbidden Forest

Harry took a deep breath and surveyed the Forbidden Forest, peering warily into its depths. It was
still early in the morning, and dawn had barely begun. The looming silhouette of the forest struck
a majestic shadow against the unusually fiery morning sky.

Harry sighed. He had put this off as long as possible, but he could not make excuses any longer.
As the days went by, he found it harder and harder to maintain a control on the Elder Wand – so
much so that he absolutely refused to go back to the Burrow with the Weasleys. Of course, Ginny
had not been happy about that.

She had been annoyed throughout the last day of the winter term – Harry had received offers from
every single one of his friends at Hogwarts to stay with them for Christmas; the problem was,
most of those friends were female. Astoria had invited him to Greengrass Manor, Nandini had
asked him accompany her during a family visit to India, Demelza had hinted at going to the
Quidditch World Cup in Timbuktu and Gabrielle had just flat out asked him to go with her to
France. Even Luna had asked him if he wanted to come over to the Lovegoods’ when staying at
the Burrow. And Hermione had surreptitiously asked him if he wanted to accompany her on a
vacation with her parents – apparently, they were going to the United States that year.

Moreover, all of the offers had been salacious – the girls had all had a gleam in their eyes and a
saucy grin on their faces when they had asked him. And Ginny was very annoyed at that –
strangely though (or perhaps predictably), she had seemed least threatened by Gabrielle’s offer of
going to France. Apparently, his girlfriend was slowly coming to terms with Gabrielle’s presence
in their relationship.

Either way, Harry had rejected all of them. He had been too complacent and had put off his
concerns about the Elder Wand for too long – the encounter with Audrey had proved that. He did
not want to be a tool for his magical artefact, he wanted the artefact to be his tool.

And the winter vacations were convenient for the next step in his quest for control. Every single
student at Hogwarts that year, except for him, had apparently signed on to go back home for the
vacations. Harry turned out to be the only student actually staying back at Hogwarts that year –
and that was very fortuitous for him, because it meant there were very few eyes watching him
now. He supposed a war could do that to people – they were all thankful for the fact that they had
made it through the war safe and sound; they craved familial attention. And the memory of the
Battle of Hogwarts was too fresh in most parents’ minds.

And so, here Harry was, steeling himself for what he was about to do next.

In truth, it was the fact that he wanted the artefact that was the main problem – the one thing that
bothered him about his next step. Harry knew what he was about to do went directly against the
promise he had made to Dumbledore. Against the promise he had made to himself.

He wanted to summon the Resurrection Stone.

He had promised to leave the Resurrection Stone in the same place he had dropped it – lost
forever to time. He knew what it felt like to hold the stone in his hands and use it. The feeling of
utter abandonment, of sorrow, of the perverse pleasure of meeting your loved ones after death,
whispers of the comforting embrace of death.
Of course, neither the Stone nor the Cloak were as powerful as the Wand when it came to mental
suggestion. Where the Wand pushed and tugged at his brain, compelling him to act, the Cloak
influenced and nudged, subtly advising him to remain under the radar. But the Stone was an
entirely different cup of tea – it whispered and tempted, telling you of the wonders that await you
beyond this life and of the glorious bliss of oblivion.

He shuddered at the memory of that last fateful march into the forest, surrounded by specters of his
loved ones. He had actually been happy then – almost morbidly joyful to meet his own demise.

And yet, he needed that solution. He needed to know how Dumbledore controlled the Wand. He
needed to ask his mentor how to go about using it.

“Accio,” Harry whispered, raising his wand towards the forest and concentrating on his memory
of the stone – the shape of the stone, its texture, the cold feeling of holding it in his hands and the
veiled whispers of death.

Then, he waited.

***

Christmas Day, The Burrow

Ginny watched Hermione like a hawk from the corner of the breakfast table. The pretty brunette
had arrived at the Burrow early that morning and had joined them for breakfast, waiting for Ron to
make his way down. She supposed Hermione was here to give Ron his Christmas gift in person.
But that was not what was plaguing her thoughts at that moment.

Gabrielle’s words on the train back from Hogwarts had wormed their way into her head and were
stuck there. And she could not shake them off.

***

A week ago, Hogwarts Express

Ginny hissed in surprise as she was pushed up against the wall inside the Prefects’ Carriage. She
had just been tagging along with the rest of the Prefects on her way out when she was seized by
her shoulders and pushed up against the wall right next to the door. She had been at the end of
the group of prefects that had made her way outside the carriage and had not expected this
sudden assault.

And then the grip loosened and her attacker let go. Ginny pulled out her wand on reflex and
looked around wildly. Suddenly, a figure appeared near the door inside the carriage, pulling off
what looked like an invisibility cloak.

“Gabrielle?” Ginny asked, bewildered, as she pocketed her wand in relief at the familiar sight of
the blonde girl, “Where did you get that cloak? Is that Harry’s?”

Gabrielle smiled mischievously at Ginny as the half-veela pushed her against the wall again.
Gabrielle drew close to her and Ginny tensed, expecting a kiss as usual – Gabrielle had never
actually initiated something like this behind Harry’s back; the mischievous veela had always done
this in front of Ginny’s boyfriend before. But Gabrielle did not quite kiss her. She just leaned in
and hovered, her luscious lips just poised millimeters away from Ginny’s.

Ginny looked down at Gabrielle’s lips, breathing heavily as she took in the sight of the half-
veela’s perfect face and threw caution to the winds. She leaned right back in. Their lips met and
they kissed. Gabrielle hugged Ginny and pressed the redhead into her, mashing their breasts
together and teasing Ginny’s lips with her tongue. Ginny moaned into Gabrielle’s mouth.

Then the half-veela drew off, leaving Ginny completely breathless. “Harry has an invisibility
cloak?” Gabrielle asked, intrigued.

Ginny nodded. She cupped Gabrielle’s ass, feeling the amazing curves with her small hands. She
had wanted to do this forever, and she could not resist her attraction to Gabrielle anymore… not
at such close proximity. Gabrielle grinned and leaned in again, nipping at Ginny’s chin and
trailing soft kisses down her neck – it was eerily reminiscent of their first such encounter at the
Weasleys’ Easter Party.

“Yes,” Ginny moaned, “He does.”

“An actual Demiguise cloak?” Gabrielle asked, pausing her kisses for a moment, “Or one of
those WWW products?”

Ginny shook her head, trying to snap out of her momentary daze – the half-veela’s kisses always
had that effect on her. She saw Gabrielle’s cloak lying in the middle of the room – it was
surprisingly furry and had an ornate hood, with runes stitched all over it.

“Actually,” Ginny said, as she looked at Gabrielle’s cloak, “I have no idea. It looks nothing like
your cloak.”

Gabrielle let go of her and looked Ginny in the eyes. The blonde then held out her wand and
floated the cloak over. “Are you sure?” she asked, handing the cloak over to Ginny.

Ginny slowly felt the texture of the cloth. It was definitely furry, almost like strands of linen sewn
into a cotton base. But the most glaring feature of the cloak were the elaborate runic patterns
along its hem. She traced her hand along one such runic scheme.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, clearing her throat, “It doesn’t have a hood, for one. And these runes – I
don’t think I’ve ever seen a rune on Harry’s cloak.”

“You cannot have a cloak without runes – they’re what make the cloak work properly,” Gabrielle
said, crossing her arms.

“Well, we can always take a look at the cloak when we get back – I’m sure Harry will let us take
a look if we ask nicely,” Ginny said, handing the cloak back to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle smiled. “You just referred to me and you as ‘we’”, she said.

Ginny blushed. “I… er…,” she stammered.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Gabrielle said, “I know you’re still making up your mind about all of this, but
I can wait. Make your peace with it over the holidays – when we come back, I’ll be there, asking
you the same question.

“And then,” the half-veela continued with a glint in her eye, her eyes not wavering in the slightest
as she caught Ginny’ chin and lifted it to face her, “You will say yes.”

Ginny nodded faintly.

“But,” Gabrielle continued, “That is not why I called you here.”

Ginny looked at Gabrielle inquisitively.

“I called you here to discuss Hermione,” Gabrielle said.

Ginny sighed. “Look, Gabby,” she said, “I thought about what you said.”

Gabrielle opened her mouth to speak, but Ginny hushed her and continued, “You’re absolutely
right… or rather, you would be absolutely right if Hermione was making a play for Harry. You’re
right – that would be bad. But I don’t think she’s in love with Harry at all. If she is, why’s she still
with Ron?”

Gabrielle just looked disapprovingly at Ginny and said, “I’m not asking you to second-guess who
Hermione loves and who she does not love. All I’m asking you to do is to say ‘no’ to her the next
time she asks if she can sleep with Harry. Or better yet, go to her right now and tell her she
cannot sleep with Harry any more. Period.”

There was silence in the room as Ginny contemplated Gabrielle’s words.

“Fine,” she said eventually, “I’ll tell her as soon as I can. That I’m putting my foot down.”

Gabrielle smiled and leaned in again. Ginny closed her eyes and sighed as she felt Gabrielle’s
fingers hold her and caress her. Their lips met, and they kissed again.

***

Christmas Day, The Burrow

Part of Ginny was relieved that she was slowly coming to terms with the fact that Gabrielle would
be joining the relationship soon – Gabrielle was on her side. Moreover, Gabrielle was skilled,
talented, beautiful and most importantly, dominant. She could take the initiative in their
relationship and stay toe to toe with Harry... or at least, she could try and keep up with Harry. And
that was a relief – Ginny had always felt that she was really no match for Harry’s appetite and did
not deserve him, but with Gabrielle on her side, she felt confident. It was almost like Gabrielle
was turning into an older sister who could protect Ginny and guide her with Harry. Which was
ironic, because Gabrielle was actually a year younger than her.

And as the days went by, Ginny was quite convinced that Gabrielle was infinitely more preferable
to someone like Hermione or say, Astoria – who was alarming her recently with her overt
flirtations with Ginny’s boyfriend. Or even, Nandini. Because all three of those girls were utter
romantics, much like herself. Moreover, they did not seem to be willing to be in a relationship
with both Harry and her – they frequently tried to get Ginny out of the way in order to woo him
like shameless little sluts. Apart from Gabrielle, not one other girl had asked her if it was okay to
invite Harry along for the Christmas holidays. Granted, Harry had not accepted, but it was still
galling that they would think her such a pushover.

But with Gabrielle on her side, all of those girls would soon learn to respect her… them. They
would never have been so open with their interest in Harry if it had been an angry half-veela at the
other end.

***

Christmas Day, The Forbidden Forest

The stone felt smooth and hard in his hands as Harry turned it over. Once. Twice. And with
shaking hands, thrice.

He could feel it calling – whispers, like from beyond the Veil in the Department of Mysteries.
Calling to him. Promising him a better world. Free from worry, from disease, from the trappings
of power. And he tried to ignore it all as he focused on his memories of Dumbledore.

A spectral figure rose up from the ground, freezing the air around it. Harry stared as the figure
continued to rise, his breath escaping in short spurts of mist from his nostrils. The spectral fog
coalesced – color seemed to flow through it, infusing it with life.

And there he was – with his majestic beard flowing in an ethereal wind, blue eyes blazing
underneath half-moon spectacles – Albus Dumbledore.

Harry quailed under his mentor’s gaze. Those blue eyes – which had often looked upon him with
fondness, with pride, with happiness, with sorrow – were now glaring at him in disdain.

It hurt. It hurt more than a Cruciatus Curses. It hurt much more than that. For the first time, Harry
truly understood why this stone had driven Cadmus Peverell to despair. There was no worse
feeling in the world than knowing that the person you once cherished in life hates you in death.
His fingers felt numb and his body was heavy – with guilt, with grief and with self-loathing. The
stone whispered to him - his life was pathetic.

“Please,” Harry said, pleading with his Headmaster’s soul, “I did not… I did not…”

He sank to his knees, but the stone never left his grasp. He was kneeling at Dumbledore’s feet
now, and he felt utterly unworthy.

“You promised, Harry,” his former Headmaster said in a terrible, booming voice, “You promised
to leave this in the Forest.”

“I needed your advice!” Harry exclaimed helplessly. But the figure showed no hint of mercy or
pity – there was only disappointment in those eyes.

“I… I own the Elder Wand,” Harry said in a rush, “I need to know how to break its spell!”

Dumbledore looked askance at him. “You promised not to use that too,” his mentor boomed, “If
you never use it, it never exerts its spell.”

“You used it,” Harry said, “How did you stop it? How did you stop it from controlling you?”

“I almost did not,” Dumbledore rasped, his voice echoing around the Forest, carried by an unseen
wind, “Do not use it.”

“I did use it,” Harry said, his hands trembling in guilt and frustration, “I had to.”

And he saw Dumbledore’s eyes narrow in utter loathing as they glared at Harry. He shrunk under
his mentor’s stern gaze.

“Why?” the figure demanded.

“I had to,” Harry repeated, “The wand would not have stayed hidden forever. Please! Tell me
how to control it!”

And then the figure vanished.

“No,” Harry said in alarm, “No, no, NO!”

He turned the stone over frantically. Once, twice, thrice.

And a spectral figure rose again and reformed, breathing life into his former mentor. Again, those
blazing eyes glared disapprovingly at him.
blazing eyes glared disapprovingly at him.

“Tell me how to control it!” Harry repeated, kneeling before the man like a disciple before a sage.

“Control what?” the figure asked with disdain.

“The Elder Wand!” Harry exclaimed, bewildered.

The figure glared at him again. “You promised, Harry,” Dumbledore boomed.

“Please!” Harry said, and the figure vanished again. Harry roared in frustration.

And continued to turn the stone over. Once. Twice. Thrice.

***

Christmas Day, The Burrow

“So, Hermione, how are things between you and Ron?” Ginny asked.

Hermione looked curiously at her and smiled. “That question sounded almost… Lavender, Ginny.
Since when have you been the gossiping type?” she asked.

“Oh I’m not,” Ginny said casually, “I’m just curious. He might be a blight, but he is my brother.”

Hermione giggled and Ginny smiled. “I’m kidding,” she told Hermione warmly, “Ron’s a great
guy. I was just wondering how you two were settling into the next phase of your relationship.”

Hermione shrugged, as if to indicate there was not much to tell, but there was something in her
eyes that spoke to Ginny. Something… weird. Hermione wasn’t telling her something.

Ginny was about to press her on the topic, when Ron came ambling down the stairs. Ginny sat
back in her chair. Hermione greeted Ron ever so casually as he sat down – Ginny frowned when
she noticed that the couple did not even share a kiss as they settled in.

Then, Ron leaned over and whispered something in Hermione’s ear. The bushy-haired girl smiled
back at Ron, but her smile was… wistful. Almost… sad.

They ate their breakfast in silence, after which Ron and Hermione went for a walk outside. Ginny
tried to follow them, but her mother asked her to help clean the dishes.

And when Ginny had finally managed to finish the chore and proceed outside, she saw Ron all by
himself, sitting on the swing beneath a tree in the orchard. Hermione had long since departed.

Ah well, Ginny thought, I can always talk to Hermione later.

***

Christmas Day, Forbidden Forest

Sunrise gave way to morning and morning turned to noon. Fiery skies had long since turned to
murky grey with dark clouds looming threateningly above Harry as he tried frantically to get the
stone to work.

Frustration. Rage. Sorrow. Guilt. All of these emotions seemed to work in tandem in Harry’s
mind, pressing up against the ramparts of his mind and tearing them asunder, leaving him a teary-
eyed mess right at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Time and again, he had called upon Dumbledore, only to despair at the sheer rage on his mentor’s
face, never getting an answer to his dilemma, but always quailing at the sight of Dumbledore’s
terrible visage.

He was beginning to understand Cadmus’ despair. The dead truly did not belong in the land of the
living. The stone had one purpose – to guide you to death. It showed you haunting images of the
ones that you once loved, only to bring them crashing down as you worked towards closure, and
then resurrect them anew, hoping to draw you off-guard again.

The stone did not help him commune with the dead, it made him want to join them. The last time
he had used the stone, he was going to die – only then had the stone truly given him want he
wanted, because he was doing what the stone wanted. Marching to his own doom.

But now, he intended to live. And the stone did not care for the wishes of those that wanted to
live, it only cared to taunt them and subvert their will.

“USELESS!” Harry roared helplessly as the stone eventually dropped from his nerveless fingers.

“You have to understand,” he pleaded, sweating and shuddering, “You have to understand,
Albus!”

This was not how great, heroic stories were supposed to end. The wand was supposed to have
remained hidden forever. The cloak was supposed to be his. And the stone was to be untouched
forever. The villain had died, the hero had won and he had even snagged the girl.

And it was supposed to end there. It was supposed to. Because in stories, there were no
repercussions. They always lived happily ever after. Wars may have been fought, entire armies
may have marched to their deaths, but the hero was always supposed to be happy at the end.

Every comic-book adventure of Martin Miggs the Muggle ended with Martin being laughed at by
oh-so-clever wizards who looked upon Martin ever so condescendingly. And yet, come next
episode, Martin was there again, in good health and spirits, ready to embark on yet another zany
misadventure only to be laughed at, again, by wizards.

Martin never suffered from depression, never had to go to a therapist to restore his self-esteem. He
was always back with a bang, going from story to story, the same character. And it was the same
with those old cartoons Harry used to watch from a dark corner of the Dursley household. He
remembered one in particular – about a coyote that chased a roadrunner. And it always ended with
the coyote suffering a really horrid death, but he was always back the next time around, hatching
yet another scheme to catch that pesky roadrunner.

That’s how stories were supposed to go – free from consequence. Harry declining the wand’s
power was the perfect end to his story – it was an act of nobility and heroism. The perfect end to a
long saga that spanned years of his life.

But he was not a character in a story. This was real life, and actions always had consequences
here. Consequences that were not dictated by plot, like in the stories he loved, but by chaos.

And some consequences really hurt. Like these terrible visions of the greatest wizard he had ever
known – perhaps the one defining influence of his life – looking at him in anger. In disdain.

That really hurt.

Harry wiped the tears from his eyes forcefully, took a deep breath and jabbed his wand at the
offending stone, banishing it back to his trunk.
If he ever saw that damned stone again, it would be too soon.

Gingerly, he stood up and slowly made his way back to the dormitory.

***

Christmas Feast, Hogwarts

Harry snapped his book shut as the teachers shuffled into the Great Hall. All of the house tables
had been abandoned in favor of the single staff table, seeing as how Harry was the only student in
attendance at Hogwarts. The staff greeted him cheerfully – he had built up quite a rapport with
them after being sequestered with them for the holidays.

“Good to see yeh, Harry!” Hagrid boomed as he plopped down in the seat next to him. Harry just
grinned at the half-giant – he had helped out Hagrid and Professor Grubbly-Plank quite a bit over
the last week. They had been looking for a stray troll that kept running over Hagrid’s pumpkin
patch and they had eventually caught up with the creature a few days ago, managing to subdue it
in seconds with Harry’s conjured chains.

Harry made small talk with Hagrid and Grubbly-Plank for a while, asking them about how they
were going about ensuring that the troll did not disturb the pumpkin patch in the future. Eventually
though, the entire staff had assembled at the dinner table and McGonagall signaled the start of the
feast.

“Congratulations on making it through to the semi-finals, Mister Potter,” Slughorn said effusively,
“That was quite an impressive win against that Beauxbatons wizard.”

Harry nodded at him. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

“All prepared for your semi-final match, Mister Potter?” Professor Flitwick asked. Harry nodded.

“I think it’s a bit unfair to the participants, Minerva,” Professor SInistra said from the far end of the
table, “You shouldn’t have held the first matches so soon after the winter vacation.”

“I just wanted it to be over as soon as possible, Aurora,” the Headmistress rejoined. “I’d rather get
the tournament out of the way before exam season starts.”

“I’m impressed by Mister Potter too,” Flitwick chimed in, “Just blows the competition away. No
fancy moves, no absurd flourishes – just straightforward spells. Well done, Mister Potter.”

Harry shrugged. Flitwick rubbed his chin and then looked around thoughtfully. “Although,” he
said, “Miss Delacour seems to be causing quite a stir lately.”

Harry smiled at that. The half-veela’s heritage had eventually gotten out to the press after she
breezed through the quarter-finals. And it had taken the media by storm – of course, they did not
quite know what to do with the news. But Harry did know one thing – it had completely and
utterly decimated any arguments for pureblood supremacy in the wizarding world.

For apart from Chiyo Yagami – his next opponent – no one that was part of the semi-finals was a
pureblood. Moreover, the “pureblood” school that apparently taught Dark Arts – Durmstrang –
had been entirely ousted from the tournament. Instead, the final four involved Harry, Hermione
and Gabrielle – a half-blood, a muggleborn and a half-veela. That had surprised a lot of people in
the wizarding world.

But Gabrielle, in particular, was the subject that really rocked antiquated ideas. At least the other
participants were entirely human – she was only part human. And that had set off quite a lot of
headlines. Gabrielle was now seen as the face of the tournament and as a progressive face for the
rights of magical creatures. Apparently, posters of Gabrielle had been plastered all over Gringotts
and several veela colonies in France.

“Yes,” McGonagall said, “She has become quite a symbol for non-humans in our world, hasn’t
she?”

“Indeed,” Flitwick said sincerely (and Harry supposed Flitwick would be quite happy at that, with
a bit of goblin blood in his line).

McGonagall nodded and rejoined, “Which is why I’m moving the duels from the Great Hall to the
Quidditch Stadium.”

Harry gaped at her. “Ma’am?” he asked.

McGonagall smiled shrewdly at him. “I’m opening up the next few matches, Mister Potter,” she
said, “I’m letting the public in. The Grounds shall be expanded to seat a crowd a thousand.
Dignitaries, parents, students, media crews… they shall all be expected, and allowed, to turn up
for the next few matches.”

“I see,” Harry said quietly. He did not quite mind a crowd, but it did place him on edge.

“What’s really encouraging though,” McGonagall continued, “Is that quite a few goblins and
veela have purchased tickets for the duels. The Grand Chieftain of Gringotts is expected to turn
up. And so is the veela matriarch for the French colonies.”

Everyone looked impressed at that.

“And they’re all going to be watching Gabrielle,” Harry said with a grin, “That will really ruffle
the feathers of those old-fashioned purebloods.”

“Feathers that need to be ruffled,” Flitwick said, grinning just as wide as Harry, “It’s about time.”

“But that’s amazing, is it not?” Mary MacDonald said from next to Slughorn, “We just fought a
war against Voldemort – a pureblood supremacist – but it’s a half-veela getting into the
penultimate round of a dueling tournament that really pushes buttons.”

“No,” said Slughorn, “The war has definitely affected the entire thing. It’s because the
supremacists lost the war that the media isn’t tearing Miss Delacour apart. In this atmosphere,
pureblood supremacy is frowned upon and politically incorrect – it’s exactly why Miss Delacour’s
achievement is getting so much traction.”

There was a pause as the meal appeared before them at that point and everyone started eating.

Eventually, Mary MacDonald looked at him curiously as Harry pushed aside the book that he had
placed on the table and began to dig into his mashed potatoes. She smiled at him and sighed.

“You remind me of Lily,” she said softly, “Lugging a book around with you everywhere.”

Harry looked at her in surprise. “I realized you went to school in my mother’s time,” he said, “But
I had no idea you personally… knew her.”

MacDonald had a distant look in her eyes as she answered, “I did know her. I was in her year.
Shared a dorm with her.”

Slughorn nodded. “Indeed,” Slughorn said jovially, “Thick as thieves you two were.”
“Never quite matched up to Lily though,” MacDonald said, “She was… extraordinary. I just sort
of orbited around in awe of her like a planet around its star.”

“Nonsense, Mary,” McGonagall said dismissively, “You’re a very talented witch.”

MacDonald raised her hands and said defensively, “I know. At the same time, I know that in terms
of skill and talent, Lily was leagues ahead of me. Of us. All of us.”

Slughorn nodded. “While I’d hesitate to rank my students,” he said, “Lily was indeed talented.
Nonetheless, Mary, you are selling yourself short.”

Harry listened with rapt attention – he had never really heard much about his mum before.
Granted, everyone told him he had his mother’s eyes, and Petunia had much to say about his
mother, but he had never heard anything about her like this.

“Sounds a bit like… Hermione,” he said in awe.

McGonagall frowned as she contemplated the notion. “No,” she said, “Not really. Miss Granger is
different. She’s a bit too headstrong, a bit too disciplined. Their academic performance is
comparable and so is their prodigious intellect; however, your mother had a different spirit.”

“Yes,” MacDonald said, “While I’ve only known Miss Granger for a while, she strikes me as a…
crusader. A headstrong woman that embraces a cause. Lily was never… that. She was a gentle,
compassionate soul, but she was a bit of a pacifist.”

Harry grinned – it was interesting to hear his teachers compare Hermione to his mom. The
conversation drifted after that, as his teachers made small talk with each other and Harry quietly
continued to eat his meal.

And then he picked up something else. “… Dumbledore on the seventh floor,” McGonagall
finished.

He snapped his head around. “What?” he breathed.

McGonagall, who had been talking to Professor Flitwick, turned around to look at him.

“Sorry,” Harry said, blushing, “I just heard something about Dumbledore… sorry, Professor.”

But McGonagall’s eyes were warm. “It’s okay Mister Potter,” she said, “I was just telling Filius
here that the refurbishment of the Seventh Floor corridor is complete.”

“Ah,” Harry said. Then, after a moment, he asked, “Is the Room of Requirement… is it back?”

“I’m afraid not,” Flitwick replied in his squeaky voice, “It was a remarkable room though, from
what I’ve heard of it. The fiendfyre overwhelmed any remaining strength it possessed.”

“However,” McGonagall said quickly, “We have transformed that space into a memorial, Mister
Potter. Dedicated to the war. With a portrait of Albus Dumbledore watching over it. It’s linked to
the one in my office.”

Harry gulped. The ghostly figure of his former mentor rising from the Stone still haunted him. “I
see,” he rasped.

***

An hour later, Seventh Floor War Memorial

Harry gaped at the sight around him. McGonagall’s animated suits of armor – that had once been
compelled to march upon the Death Eaters - dented by the force of countless spells, stood in a
corner, sealed inside a display case. There were quite a few things there that he recognized,
including an epitaph with the names of all those that had fallen during the battle, on both sides of
the war. Countless students would come to this room in the future and gaze upon these artefacts,
marveling at the notion of a battle being fought at a school. The more historically inclined students
would point out this armor and that broom to their peers, and weave stories around it.

But only a handful of them would ever know what it was to be like right in the middle of the
battle. Only a handful would know what it was like to march to certain death and take on the most
fearsome Dark Lord in all of Europe.

Harry shook his head, clearing it of morbid thoughts. What he needed to see was on the far wall of
the room – the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. And his mentor’s portrait was occupied.

Harry walked ever so slowly towards the portrait, praying that it did not know what he had done
only this morning. He could not bear to see that look of disdain again.

He need not have feared at all. The two-dimensional figure of Albus Dumbledore looked upon
him with a kind smile.

“Sir,” he said, “Hello.”

“Harry,” Albus greeted warmly, “It’s nice to see you again. What brings you here?”

“I…” Harry stammered. His mentor’s portrait, with its warm smile, was so incongruous with the
harsh specter he had conjured up only this morning. “I miss you,” he finished. He meant it.

Albus looked at Harry in pity. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he said.

Harry shook his head. “In any case, sir,” he continued, “I just wanted to ask you about… you
know… your wand.”

Albus merely looked at him curiously.

“Your wand, sir,” Harry repeated.

“My wand, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

“How… how did you control it?” Harry asked desperately, hoping and praying that Dumbledore
would not vanish this time around.

“Control?” Dumbledore asked, “I’m afraid I do not know what you are asking me, Harry. Is this a
question about magical theory?”

“I…” Harry paused. There was no light of recognition in the portrait’s eyes.

“Your second wand, sir,” Harry said.

The portrait stiffened and looked around the room with furrowed eyes. “Silencing Charm, please,
Harry.”

Harry obeyed and cast a bubble around him, sealing them off from the world outside. He turned to
the portrait expectantly.

“Why do you ask, Harry?” Albus asked.

“I...” Harry said, but Dumbledore interrupted him.

“You are asking about the Elder Wand,” Dumbledore stated. It was not a question, but Harry
nodded nonetheless.

“Well,” Dumbledore said, smiling at him, “You need not fear, Harry. The wand’s power died
with me.”

Harry’s heart sank. Dumbledore sounded so… hopeful. But he knew better – Dumbledore’s
portrait clearly did not know that Harry had inherited the wand. They did have a conversation
before he had discarded the Elder Wand, but the portrait hadn’t quite caught on that Harry actually
owned it.

He could work with that though.

“Sir,” Harry said casually, “I… guess, I just wanted to know how you managed to control it. You
once told me that the Elder Wand was… that it affected you. Mentally. Physically. That it
compelled you to… destroy.”

“Did I?” Dumbledore’s portrait asked. Harry nodded and the portrait looked into the distance,
pondering his words. “I suppose it is harmless now to discuss this. Yes, the Elder Wand did affect
me, in several ways. It exists to corrupt and destroy – it is not a tool that lends itself easily to
constructive work.”

“How did you control it?” Harry asked.

“I did not,” Albus said simply, “I never used it until the year before my death, Harry.”

Harry gaped. After a moment’s pause, he asked incredulously, “Professor… what?”

“You have to use the wand, Harry, at least once before it begins to eat away at your mind. Every
owner that has ever used that terrible wand has been perverted by its will, slaves to a never-ending
cycle of violence and lust. It pitted fathers against sons, brother against brother and wizard against
wizard. None that has used the wand has ever truly managed to subvert it.”

“But… you were not influenced.”

“I saw what it did to the man I loved, Harry. Gellert Grindelwald was betrayed by his wand – I
will not deny that he was drawn to power. But he was never malicious – not like Tom. And yet,
once he began to use that accursed wand, he began to change. To transform. He became a shell of
the man he once was. And it pitted love against love.”

A single tear rolled down the portrait’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly.

“And I knew how the wand affected its conqueror, Harry,” Albus continued, “So I never used it. I
entrusted it to the one man I could truly trust to keep it away from me.”

“Who?” Harry asked curiously.

“My brother,” Albus said quietly, his eyes peering into the distance once more. “Aberforth, more
than any other wizard on the planet, never forgave me for what happened to our family. He would
never yield to my whims – if I turned up at his door out of the blue and asked for the wand, he
would never have handed it over to me without good reason.
“And during those years,” Albus continued, “I searched and searched for a way to control the
wand. To use it and bend it to my will.

“But I never quite managed to find the solution. I even consulted Aberforth about it – he’s quite
the wandcrafter himself. But neither he nor I were able to come up with a solution to that dilemma.
The wand itself is an impenetrable mystery to us, Harry. Apart from the thestral core, we know
absolutely nothing about it.

“And wandcrafters protect their secrets very well. Most wandcrafters we spoke to had not even
heard of a wand that could influence its wielder. Aberforth’s own research did not yield much,
either. The Elder Wand is an anomaly, Harry. A blight on the world. A tear in the fabric of reality
– it should not exist. It is monstrously empty – incomplete, filled with neither good nor bad.
Utterly hollow. It should not be used. It can never be controlled.

“I was one of the few owners fortunate enough to have the mental fortitude to not use it and
succumb to its allure, and I had a brother who loathed me and was willing to keep away the most
powerful wand in the history of magic away from me.”

“So you never came upon a way to… control it?” Harry asked, his heart sinking.

“I’m afraid not, Harry,” the portrait said, “And if I did, I did not have enough time to tell… me…
about it.” Dumbledore chuckled. “Remember, Harry,” he said, “Portraits are limited by what their
subjects teach them.”

Harry floundered for a moment and then asked, desperately, “What if… what if… did you try the
other Hallows?”

Dumbledore sighed. “In my last year as a living, breathing human being,” he said tiredly, “I did go
back to my brother and retrieved the Elder Wand. He had kept it under a Fidelius Charm all along
– I told him I intended for it to die with me and after swearing an Unbreakable Vow that I did not
intend to abuse its power, he let me have it.

“It still influenced me Harry. Had I been a younger, and brasher wizard, in the prime of his health,
it would have compelled even me to do horrible things.”

It all made sense in Harry’s head. Dumbledore had been reckless in his final year, teasing Harry
with information, letting death brush him by with Draco Malfoy’s repeated attempts on his life and
endangering the entire school.

Dumbledore continued, “I did try using the Resurrection Stone. I touched the wand to it, on a silly
whim. Nothing happened. I even borrowed your remarkable cloak, Harry, but the effect is not
nullified. Place all the objects together and they only tear you apart with their suggestion and
allure. One commands you to act, the other encourages you to strive for mediocrity and the last
whispers sweet nothings in your ear, comforting you with thoughts of death. The three Hallows
do not nullify each other – they merely combine and clash. The myth of the Wielder of the
Deathly Hallows, the Master of Death… is just a myth, Harry. A lie.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore in despair.

Great, he thought, yet another dead end.

***

January 8, Hogwarts Express

Ginny took a deep breath and leaned in to speak to Hermione. They were alone in the Prefects’
Carriage and were on the way back to Hogwarts for the start of their second semester – Hermione
had stayed behind at Ginny’s urging. Ginny did not dare meet Gabrielle before she had fulfilled
the half-veela’s request.

“What’s this about, Ginny?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I… I…” Ginny floundered.

Hermione just stared at her expectantly.

“I’m not going to allow Harry to sleep with you,” Ginny blurted out. Then she blushed – that had
not quite come out the way she had intended.

For a brief moment, Ginny thought Hermione’s eyes flashed in anger, but the next moment, Ginny
thought she had imagined it – Hermione was merely looking at her with understanding and
warmth.

“I… suppose I understand, Ginny,” Hermione said slowly, “You want him all to yourself.”

Ginny smiled. Hermione was taking this a lot better than Gabrielle had told her she would. Ginny
almost felt guilty – she knew there was nothing between Hermione and Harry she should be
worried about. It had just been sex.

“Well,” Ginny said, “It’s not that… I don’t… I just…”

“It’s okay,” Hermione said kindly, and then looked right into Ginny’s eyes. “But I’m afraid I’m
going to have to ask you for him one last time, Ginny.”

Ginny just stared at Hermione. “One last time?” she asked, her suspicions rising once again.

Hermione blushed and looked demurely at the floor. “I… it’s just… Ron’s been so insistent about
it…” she said.

Ginny flushed as well. “I don’t know, Hermione,” she said uneasily.

Hermione sighed. She asked in a small voice, that made Ginny feel incredibly guilty, “You…
don’t trust me, do you?”

“It’s not that!” Ginny said fervently.

“Just one last time, for Ron,” Hermione said quickly, “I even got an orb, Ginny, to record it. I’ll
record this last encounter, Ginny – so I can relive it again and again… for y’know… him.”

Ginny thought about it for a second. She supposed it was bit unfair to Hermione – she hadn’t
exactly stopped Harry from sleeping around with her mom, or Fleur or any of the others. Just
Hermione. She supposed she owed it to the bushy-haired girl, at least for her brother’s sake.

“Okay,” she said finally, taking a deep breath, “One last time. You can record it… just don’t let it
get out. But this is it though.”

“Of course,” Hermione said graciously.

“When do you want to…?” Ginny prompted.

“Oh,” Hermione said, “I was thinking… after my semi-final match against Gabrielle. The day
after tomorrow.”
Ginny nodded at the girl and walked out of the carriage, leaving Hermione behind. Had Ginny
bothered to turn around and look, she’d have noticed the thunderous scowl that had settled upon
Hermione’s face the moment Ginny’s back was turned to her.

***

“Well?” Gabrielle asked in a whisper as Ginny sat down next to the half-veela on the train, “Did
you tell Hermione?”

Ginny gulped. “I… yeah,” she said. She did not really want to lie to Gabrielle, but she felt a bit
sorry for Hermione and her brother. She supposed that as long as Gabrielle never got to know
about Hermione’s last encounter, it would all work out – Hermione could sleep with Harry one
last time and record it so that her brother and Hermione could use it for their own purposes later.

“Good girl,” Gabrielle said, stroking Ginny’s hair softly.

Ginny just leaned back and watched Natalie argue with Nandini about something or the other –
she was uneasy keeping secrets from Gabrielle.

But it was harmless, in any case. Or so Ginny thought.

***

January 8, Great Hall

Harry missed the silence of the winter holidays, now that the Great Hall was filled with noise
again. He supposed he would not be able to roam around the castle at will now that everything
had returned to normal – he had enjoyed quite a carefree set of holidays this winter, going into the
Forbidden Forest occasionally to satisfy his bloodlust, driving off acromantulas or subduing trolls,
and even, on one occasion, driving off a herd of griffons. That had been a truly epic battle –
griffons, in his opinion, were far more powerful than hippogriffs. Of course, Harry had relegated
himself to simple spells – but the rush of battle as he evaded a griffon’s talons, or as he narrowly
avoided a troll’s club, was thrilling and seemed to hold the influence of the Deathstick at bay.

Either way, he was glad to see Ginny and the rest of his friends again. To his immense surprise,
Hermione seemed to have joined their group. He noticed Ron talking to the Frobisher girl two
seats to his right and waved happily at his best male friend.

Ginny marched straight up to him and kissed him. He kissed right back. And just as he was able to
sit down beside her, Gabrielle caught him by the lapels and pulled him towards her, across the
table. And then she kissed him deeply. There were gasps all around. After an amazing kiss, in full
view of the table, with a lot of tongue involved, Gabrielle let go.

Harry quickly turned to Ginny. To his immense surprise, his girlfriend merely smiled at him and
winked at Gabrielle.

Harry blushed and sat down. Ron gave him a very cheesy thumbs up and he grinned back
weakly. Most of the guys seated around him were staring at him in awe. His own group, though,
seemed to be a bit miffed. Of course, Harry thought, miffed might be an understatement.

He had never seen Hermione look so angry before. Her eyes were blazing with wrath – luckily
for him though, most of her ire seemed to be directed at Ginny and Gabrielle.

“So,” Demelza said slowly, as they all settled in. They were all sitting in the same positions that
they had during the start of the previous term – Ginny to his left, Demelza to his right, Gabrielle in
front, flanked by Nandini and Natalie. Hermione was sat next to Natalie, diagonally opposite
Demelza.

“Uh… what just happened?” Nandini asked.

“I… thought you two were… y’know, competing for Harry’s hand or something,” Natalie said.
Harry chuckled.

“Guess we found a way to settle our differences,” Gabrielle said airily.

“How very… French… of you,” Hermione said in a stiff voice.

“Excuse me?” Gabrielle asked, her voice very delicate, holding a dangerous edge.

“Oh… just the whole mistress thing,” Hermione said coldly.

“Oh, you mean the French muggle thing,” Gabrielle said casually, “Polyamory is acceptable in
our world, Hermione. You only have to be open-minded enough to accept it.”

Hermione gave a low snarl and Natalie tensed.

“Why do you care anyway, Granger?” Gabrielle asked.

“Oh, just concerned for Ginny’s well-being,” Hermione said.

Ginny smiled at Hermione. “That’s very kind, Hermione,” she said quietly, “But… I guess I don’t
mind Gabrielle at all. I… I’d rather not talk about the details of our relationship, but we’re both
very much in love. With both Harry and… each other.”

Harry’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he stared at his girlfriend. Guess a lot of things
can happen in three weeks, he thought.

Gabrielle just smiled smugly and leaned back. She winked at Demelza, who was gaping across
Harry at Ginny.

“Ginny!” Nandini said, obviously just as taken aback, “You… I didn’t know you… uh… not that
there’s anything wrong with swinging that way… but… uh…”

Ginny giggled.

“I sort of knew,” Natalie admitted, “Ginny confessed to me in our third year that she sort of swung
both ways.”

Demelza just took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, “I won’t deny this isn’t a surprise, but if
Ginny’s happy, we’re all with her.”

Ginny smiled and basked in the warmth of their group. Harry, though, did not miss the calculating
looks Nandini and Demelza were giving him.

“Oh,” Gabrielle said sharply, “Don’t even think about it, girls.” Nandini and Demelza immediately
went back to looking annoyed.

Ginny just leaned back on her chair and looked around smugly. “Isn’t she a dear?” she said
fondly.

“Oh, don’t be so possessive, Gabrielle,” Demelza said.

“Oh, I’m not possessive at all,” Gabrielle admitted, “And I’m not going to tell Harry what he can
or cannot do. However, our relationship is a closed loop, period. Now, if you want to take it
further, we can discuss it away from prying ears. The rumor mill is going to be bad enough as it
is.”

Harry had to admit he was surprised and impressed by Gabrielle’s confidence. He was also a bit
taken aback by the abrupt shift in his relationship with Ginny.

He had suspected his girlfriend would bend sooner than later and allow Gabrielle into the fold, but
this was much more than that. Gabrielle had not just entered the fold, she had taken command of
the fold. The power dynamics of the relationship had changed completely – Ginny, from what he
could tell, was actually being submissive to Gabrielle. Almost like Gabrielle was some sort of an
older sister/lover.

Ah well, he thought as he leant back and extended an arm around Ginny; he grinned as he felt
Gabrielle’s leg brush up against his own. He looked at the half-veela and saw the beautiful girl
raise an eyebrow at him. He just grinned back at her and winked. Gabrielle blushed.

I love my life, he thought.

***

January 9, Quidditch Stadium

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Harry disarmed his opponent in three moves and walked
back to his seat on the side of the pitch. But he knew the roar was not for him. The roar was for
the next match – Gabrielle versus Hermione.

He gazed around at the stadium as he sat down. McGonagall had been right – there were at least a
hundred veela in assistance. And a few dozen goblins – this was an unprecedented occasion in the
wizarding world.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over to him as she started performing diagnosis charms all over his body.

“I’m fine, ma’am,” he said.

“Which is as it should be, Mister Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly, “But I still need to
ascertain that.”

He shrugged and allowed Madam Pomfrey to continue muttering charms over him. He smiled at
Gabrielle, who was walking into the stadium – the veela in the audience had actually risen from
their seats at her appearance and were waving frantically at her, causing almost all of the males
(and some females) in the stadium to go slack-jawed. Gabrielle looked in Harry’s direction for a
moment and waved at him. He just grinned at her.

Of course, most of Hogwarts was still cheering for Hermione, who was walking into the stadium
as well. She appeared to be slightly intimidated by the crowd, but her jaw was set and she looked
determined.

Harry just leaned back to enjoy the show.

***

Hermione Granger had never been so torn in her entire life. On one hand, she was overjoyed to
see so many magical creatures find acceptance among the mainstream wizarding public. The
presence of veela, and of goblins, cheering for a half-veela taking part in a prestigious dueling
tournament – it was a coup for all the ideals of equality that she cherished.
On the other hand, they were cheering for Gabrielle. The slut. She looked on sourly as Gabrielle
waved at Harry, seated at the end of the stadium alongside a slightly morose looking Chiyo
Yagami – who had lost her duel just like all of Harry’s opponents. And Harry grinned right back
at the half-veela.

Hermione had thought she had been competing with Ginny all along for Harry’s affections – but
the real threat had always been Gabrielle. In a matter of months, the half-veela had wormed her
way into Harry’s heart, and was slowly on her way to securing top spot in his affections. And
worse, Ginny appeared to be happy being the submissive one in the relationship – when had that
even happened? How had she missed everything?

They approached the center of the large stage in the middle of the stadium, under the glare of
several floating spotlights and recording orbs. Just as both she and Gabrielle ascended the stage, a
magical barrier hummed into place around the circular platform, shielding the onlookers from stray
spells.

The arbiter – a referee for dueling matches - stood right in the middle of the platform and
beckoned both of the contests to the center. Hermione took a deep breath and proceeded to the
center of the stage, watching the half-veela preen before the audience with a baleful glare.

“Hermione Granger!” the arbiter shouted, and paused as a roar from all of the Hogwarts students
echoed through the stadium at her name. She smiled at that – she had come a long way from her
first year as an anti-social know-it-all. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry pump his fist in
the air and her heart rose. “Are you ready?” the arbiter asked. She nodded, and the crowd roared
again.

“Gabrielle Delacour!” the arbiter said. The veela in the audience started chanting her name and the
goblins started thumping their feet rhythmically on the wooden seats. A significant portion of the
crowd – Beauxbatons students mostly – cheered as well. The roar was deafening, again. “Are you
ready?”

Gabrielle smiled and said, “Born ready.”

The crowd roared again. Hermione grit her teeth. So she knows how to play a crowd, she thought
sourly.

“Bow,” the referee said.

Gabrielle smiled smugly at her, winked and bowed. Hermione let out a low snarl as she bowed as
well.

Okay, Hermione thought, I don’t care if she’s championing veela rights. I am beating the SNOT
out of her.

“FIGHT!” the arbiter shouted as he moved away from the duel, hastily clearing space.

Almost immediately, Hermione let out a powerful jet of water out of the end of her wand, aiming
it right at Gabrielle. It was met by a ball of fire and her jet burst into steam. Gabrielle had not even
used her wand.

Hermione looked at the arbiter for a moment, but he said nothing. She remembered a lecture
Flitwick had given on duels a long time ago. “Natural abilities are always allowed in duels,” the
professor had told them, “Metamorphmagi can transform, Animagi can assume their animal forms
if they think it could help.”
Hermione cringed as another ball of fire made its way towards her – Gabrielle was obviously
using her veela powers with impunity. She ducked and rolled under the fire as the veela in the
audience roared in approval. Gabrielle was making sure that no one was in doubt about her veela
heritage.

Hermione raised her wand and conjured blue fire. She pushed it towards Gabrielle who met it
with a wall of emerald flames. The half-veela simultaneously brought her wand around, letting out
a flurry of spells at Hermione, who blocked them with a silent Protego.

Avis, Hermione thought and a flock of birds rose out of thin air, zooming straight at Gabrielle.
Aguamenti!

A jet of water, even more powerful than her first jet, gushed at Gabrielle, who was busy dealing
with the flock of birds. But Gabrielle erected a massive wall of emerald flames yet again, and
Hermione’s jet immediately sizzled to steam. This time though, Hermione was ready. She pushed
her wand down and the steam coalesced into the shape of an otter that plunged right through the
fire. She heard a satisfying shriek from the other side. The wall of fire dropped and Gabrielle
emerged. Her right arm looked slightly charred and reddish – Hermione’s steam otter had
obviously burnt her.

Hermione did not pause though. She snapped off two stunners and then waved her wand right at
the dueling platform. A shockwave rippled right through the platform and Gabrielle was on the
defensive immediately, deflecting the stunners and trying to steady herself as the platform shook
around her.

Hermione conjured a net and sent it flying but it tore apart under Gabrielle’s assault.

And that was when everything changed. Gabrielle zipped aside with inhuman speed and an ear-
piercing screech echoed around the stadium. A ball of fire zoomed towards Hermione, who
ducked and rolled again. When she righted herself, she saw an awe-inspiring sight – a veela
transformation.

Wings sprouted across Gabrielle’s back, even as the half-veela swerved to avoid Hermione’s
hastily conjured metal chains. Forest-green feathers began to sprout all over her body and her
limbs lengthened, forming talons. And then the wings flapped and she rose into the air
majestically.

Hermione gaped. And the veela in the audience went wild. There were chants, roars, and shrieks –
Hermione suddenly knew she was witnessing a shift here. A historic occasion – the day a veela
took on a human in a wizarding tournament.

She desperately snapped off stunners and body-binds, but they splashed uselessly against
Gabrielle’s body. The veela flew to the side as Hermione conjured a massive spear and flung it at
her with her wand, but it was easily avoided. A ball of fire came crashing down again and
Hermione was forced to jump to the side to avoid it.

She sent out a massive jet of water, but Gabrielle merely swooped around it. And then, like a bird
of prey, Gabrielle charged through the air, right at Hermione.

Hermione pushed outwards, and a wave of air blew Gabrielle off course. The veela screeched and
righted course as she flew higher and higher. Hermione’s subsequent spells splashed harmlessly
against her and Hermione was now resorting to physical conjuration again – it was obvious that
stunners, disarming curses and spells in general were useless against the veela’s powerful form –
but Gabrielle merely gained altitude, avoiding her conjurations with ease.
And when the veela was several dozen feet in the air above Hermione, she started sending down
balls of fire again. They were too powerful for Hermione to vanish, so she desperately tried to
avoid them, swinging from side to side, jumping all around the stage, desperately trying to escape
the fireballs that were blazing down at her from above. This was not her kind of duel – she was
athletic to a certain extent, but she usually relied on her spell-casting and precision to vanquish her
opponent. Hermione tried to snap off a spell or two in between avoiding Gabrielle’s fireballs, but
each time she looked up, she saw yet another ball of emerald fire raining down upon her and she
had to run to avoid it.

Suddenly, the half-veela was right in front of her, cruel beak opening to form a screech. With a
sinking sensation, Hermione realized that the balls of fire had just been a distraction, Gabrielle had
been using them as cover to dive straight down at her. Gabrielle seized Hermione by her throat
and raised her into the air with inhuman strength. Hermione desperately brought her wand to bear,
but Gabrielle seized her arm and wrenched her wand out of her grasp. The veela let go and
Hermione slumped to the ground.

The crowd was dead silent for a minute.

And then one of the veela – a stately, beautiful woman – rose from her seat. She pumped her fist
into the air and the veela screeched with her. And the crowd went wild.

The wings and feathers vanished. The talons morphed into hands. And Hermione found herself
looking once again at Gabrielle Delacour.

The veela just smiled at her. “Well fought, Hermione,” she said, “But I guess you never saw me
coming.”

And Hermione just knew that she meant more than just the duel. She meant Harry.

Gabrielle dropped the wand in front of Hermione and walked back to the center of the stage to be
declared victor.

Hermione just sat in place, slightly saddened about the loss of her duel.

Gabrielle had won a battle. But the war was still not lost. Not even by a long shot.

Hermione picked up her wand and got to her feet, brushing the dirt off.

She was Hermione Granger. She never let losses get her down. And she never gave up.

***

An hour later

Hermione entered the Common Room after being treated for mild burns by Madam Pomfrey. A
lot of the students were still milling about and a lot of them congratulated her, telling her she had
made them proud by giving it her best shot.

But she did not care for their platitudes. She made her way right to where Ginny and Harry were
sitting.

“Hermione,” Ginny said, “Good show! I’m sorry you lost, but that was a great duel.”

Harry nodded.

“Ginny,” Hermione said, “I… need to talk to you.”

Ginny looked into her eyes for a moment, and then got up. Hermione and Ginny then walked over
to an alcove near the girls’ dorm, away from Harry’s curious eyes.

Hermione took a deep breath and said, “Ginny… I… uh…”

Ginny sighed. “Is this about what you asked on the train the day before yesterday?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, “Is that… still on?”

Ginny said kindly, “Of course, Hermione. But again, I’m sorry it has to be this way – but
Gabrielle isn’t comfortable with you. So… this is the last time.”

Hermione looked up sharply at that. “So,” she asked, “It was Gabrielle that told you to keep
Harry from me?”

Ginny looked slightly uncomfortable. “Uh… well… she…” the redhead stammered.

Of course, Hermione thought viciously, of course it was the little blonde slut.

“Oh, just curious,” Hermione said casually.

Ginny smiled uneasily. “This is all for… Ron… right?”

“Of course,” Hermione lied through her teeth, “Like I said, I’m recording the whole thing. For
posterity.”

Ginny giggled.

Hermione pulled out a small silver screen out of her pocket and held it out in front of Ginny.

Ginny gasped. “Is that…?”

“A Chart-O-Vision?” Hermione completed, “Yes. It’s for you. I’ve already charmed it to respond
to my recording orb.”

“For… me?”

“Oh, you know… just to reassure yourself. This way, you can see the entire thing.”

“But what about Ron? Will he be watching too?”

“Oh, he has his own Chart. I just wanted to… reassure you. And if you want, you can watch. This
way, Harry isn’t doing this whole thing behind your back.”

Ginny tentatively took the chart from Hermione. She looked a bit bewildered. And then she
smiled at Hermione. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would,” she said.

“Of course,” Hermione said graciously.

***

The students slowly fizzled out of the room, making their way towards the dorms to sleep after an
eventful day.

Eventually, Hermione noticed Harry get up to go to his dorm and cut him off.

“Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Harry,” she said, “You’re coming with me.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I cleared it with Ginny. Harry, please. I need this. Today,” Hermione said.

He smiled and put his hand in hers. She clasped his palm with both her hands and pulled him
towards the Head Girl’s dorm.

***

“Hermione!” Harry gasped as Hermione pushed him against the wall and kissed him noisily.

He flipped them around, pushing her into the wall and pulled at her lower lip, munching on it with
his own lips. Hermione purred. And that was when Harry saw exactly whose door they were
kissing against.

He drew them off with a start. On the door was a plaque reading “MARY MACDONALD –
HEAD OF GRYFFINDOR”

“Hermione,” he said, “I… uh… had no idea we were near MacDonald’s room.”

Hermione giggled. “Afraid your favorite professor might catch us, Harry? Catch the Head Girl
shagging the Boy-Who-Lived right outside her bedroom? Catch me mounting your big fat cock
right outside her own bedroom?”

“Uh,” Harry trailed off.

“Fear not, oh fearless conqueror,” Hermione said as she pushed Harry across the corridor to the
door of a room that read “HEAD GIRL: HERMIONE GRANGER”.

The door opened and they tumbled in.

***

Ginny closed the curtains around her four-poster bed and hesitantly looked at the silver screen. It
was tantalizing – she knew Hermione had given it to her as a show of good faith, but she was
torn. On one hand, she had taken particular enjoyment in making Harry relive his exploits with
other women when they had sex. But she didn’t quite know if she was ready for this – her
boyfriend shagging her brother’s girlfriend. It was ridiculous – hell, her brother would be
watching this right now on another silver screen, masturbating furiously as Harry pounded his
girlfriend.

And she didn’t share her brother’s weird fetish… did she?

Ginny bit her lip and expanded the silver screen so that it covered the entire section of curtain at
the foot of her bed. She floated the screen over and glued it to the curtain with her wand.

One touch of her wand would be all it took to bring the screen to life.

I do not want to watch this, Ginny thought, I don’t. I’m not… I don’t… Harry…

A series of images flashed through her head. Harry’s massive cock pounding into a tiny little
snatch that was not her own, his muscled body spasming as he experienced the ultimate pleasure
with another woman that was not her… she was not into that stuff.
Was she?

And then, another image popped into her head -

Harry pounding into Gabrielle, her blonde hair askew, while Ginny munched on the half-veela’s
gorgeous tits…

… But that’s Gabrielle… we’re going to be together now… it’s okay to think of her and Harry like
that…

… Harry pounding into Hermione’s gorgeous, trim figure, her pretty face scrunched up in
pleasure while Ginny caressed the Head Girl…

… Crap.

Ginny sighed. With numb hands, she cast a Silencing Charm on the curtains, shrugged off her
robes and lay entirely naked on the bed. And then she waved her wand at the screen. It burst into
life.

And she saw the Head Girl’s room. It was absolutely empty.

Well, Ginny thought, that’s anti-climactic.

She peered around the screen interestedly. The recording orb Hermione possessed (how did
Hermione even afford one of those?) was obviously placed right in front of the massive bed in the
center of the room. It was very luxurious, and Ginny could see that Hermione herself had
obviously customized the room. The carpet was emerald green – Ginny was reminded of Harry’s
eyes, and that made her uncomfortable (perhaps Gabrielle was right, Ginny thought, and then
perished the notion… there was no going back now) – and elaborate runes were stitched into it.
Glowing orbs were floating around the room, bathing the room in a romantic orange glow.
Hermione’s desk was on the far side of the room, and Ginny could make out a ton of books
stacked into neat piles and held in place by bookends that looked like… books (Ginny had to
laugh at that). There were no posters on the room walls – just a few sheets with quotations by
famous witches stuck on the wall in front of her study table. A tiny dressing table sat in one corner
of the room with a small mirror and what looked like a make-up kit.

The bed itself looked plush and luxurious, covered in velvet sheets – it had a very elaborate
looking wrought iron bed-head with carvings of dryads and mermaids. That definitely was not
Hermione’s touch – it was probably a bed that had been in the Head Girl’s room forever.

Ginny sighed, and after five minutes of waiting, moved to switch off the screen – she was half-
relieved, half-disappointed.

And just as she was about to wave her wand at the screen, the door burst open.

Harry and Hermione tumbled into the room, locked in fierce embrace. Their lips seemed to be
glued to each other and Ginny could hear Hermione moaning and slurping – their tongues were
on each other. And then, the door slammed shut behind them. Their kiss deepened, even as their
bodies drew apart and their clothes started dropping.

Hermione never stopped kissing Harry as her hands deftly worked her skirt off, followed by her
panties. The she tore her shirt apart and flung it aside. Her bra followed shortly after. Harry just
waved his wand at himself and his clothes vanished. And then, to Ginny’s utter amazement, his
wand vanished into thin air – how did he do that?

And through it all, the couple was still managing to march in lockstep to the bed. Eventually,
Hermione squealed as she tumbled backwards onto her own bed, her lips finally pulling off
Harry’s as she sat on her bed. Harry plopped down next to her. Hermione scooted over to one side
of the bed and sat against the headboard, her legs splayed wide open and Ginny had a glorious
view of her vagina. It was gorgeous – Ginny had to admire the girl’s pink slit, with juicy red lips
clinging tightly to one another. It was absolutely miniscule – how had Hermione had sex with
Harry’s monster anyway?

And Harry – Ginny went breathless as Harry scooted over right next to Hermione and leant
against her headboard. His legs were wide apart as well – Ginny could see those apple-sized
testicles she loved sucking on and that juicy man-meat she loved tasting.

Ginny palmed her own tits at the sight and moaned. She pulled at her nipples.

“How can you just sit there, Hermione, you slut?” she gasped, “Little Harry looks so…
desperate.”

Harry stretched a muscled arm to his right around Hermione’s shoulders and pulled her closer to
him. And Hermione leant right into his chest with a sigh. Hermione’s left hand was trapped
against Harry’s side, but she ran her slender right hand down his chest, tracing a line down his
pectorals and feeling up his abs as she snaked her hand down to the… prize.

Her hands are so tiny, Ginny thought, that cock is bigger than her wrist. Ginny massaged her
breasts hard and refocused on the action.

Her boyfriend looked like a beast sitting next to the petite Hermione – the Head Girl was
absolutely tiny. Hermione was snuggling into Harry’s thick neck and her left hand snuck behind
Harry’s back as she turned towards him. Her right hand though, finally reached Harry’s enormous
shaft. It was rock-hard pointing straight into the air, gleaming in the soft glow of the orbs floating
around the bed. It looked perfect to Ginny – thick, but not overly veiny, monstrous but beautiful,
ending in a massive mushroom-shaped head. It looked like a glorious battering ram, blunt and
wide.

“You have a monster cock,” Hermione said in awe, echoing Ginny’s thoughts, “But it looks so…
beautiful.” Harry just chuckled as he looked down to observe her hand’s trajectory. Hermione just
traced up the shaft with her right hand, her fingers only managing to form a semi-circle around that
massive rod. Ginny couldn’t take it anymore – she had to get off. With her left, she kept pulling
on her breast and nipple, while her right hand traced down to her own clit. Ginny pressed and
moaned, circling the nub ever so pleasantly.

Pathetically, she moaned as she saw another woman toy with Harry’s cock.

Hermione’s dainty fingers continued to trace a teasing path up Harry’s shaft, along the top side of
his cock. The Head Girl then bit her lip as she fixed her eye on the cock she was stroking with her
entire hand; she pushed and Harry’s shaft angled forward, unbending as an oak tree. Hermione
then stroked deliberately all the way up to Harry’s enormous cockhead.

Suddenly, Hermione pushed her left hand out from between her side and Harry’s and held onto
the base of Harry’s cock. She pushed his cock back up towards her and palmed the crown,
stroking with the flat of her palm against his massive dome and single eye. She giggled and then
started squeezing and pulling his purple crown with her entire palm.

“You whore,” Ginny moaned as she pressed on her clitoris once more, “You little fucking nerd.”

Harry’s face and Hermone’s were now side by side, his right cheek and her left smushed together
as they both gazed down at Hermione’s hands worshipping his penis. Harry was hugging
Hermione into him now, his right hand now tracing the side of her cushy right boob – they were a
handful, though Ginny was slightly relieved that she far outweighed the Head Girl in bust size.

Ginny gaped as Hermione’s left palm – her forefinger and thumb not even close to touching each
other as she encircled his enormous meat – tugged at the base of Harry’s cock even as her right
kept fondling his humongous crown.

Bloody hell, Ginny thought, there’s still space for me and Gabrielle on that thing!

Harry smiled and leant back on the headboard, his hands falling onto the cushions at the head of
the bed as he sprawled imperiously over it. Hermione, on the other hand, leaned forward, eager to
play with the cock she was cradling. Only, she didn’t have to lean forward much. His enormous
cock was pointing straight into the air. Harry spread his thighs out and pushed his hips forward.

“I’ve never quite seen it like this before,” Hermione gasped, “It’s enormous!” His dome was level
with her chin and her right palm still resting on top of it.

“And it’s so juicy,” Hermione crowed, “No wonder those sluts were so eager to suck you off.”

Despite the fact that Ginny was furiously fingering her clit now, she was completely thrown by
that statement. Sluts? She thought, what sluts?

Hermione had now fully turned to face Harry, her left leg bent under her bum and her right leg
draped over Harry’s left thigh. Her slender leg didn’t quite manage to block off the view of
Harry’s enormous massive balls though. With her left palm still curled around Harry’s base, she
moved her right hand down and started massaging Harry’s ballsack. She rested her right palm on
it, just feeling his testes move up and down with each inhalation and exhalation; then, she starting
palming and massaging them and Harry sighed happily. Now, with her right hand on automatic,
just cradling and lightly squeezing Harry’s cum-filled testicles, she started playing with his shaft.

She lightly licked at the head with the tip of her tongue, not even having to bend because his dome
was practically next to her chin. Then she just nuzzled into it, rubbing her face from side to side
against the crown leaving a trail of Harry’s slimy pre-cum across her glistening cheeks, and then
pushed her nose against his cockhead and inhaled. She then shifted her left hand so that instead of
being curled around the underside of Harry’s cock-base, it was curled on the other side. The she
pushed down so that his massive unyielding rod angled down until it was at roughly sixty degrees
to the vertical from its former perfectly vertical position. Hermione then bent forward so that her
face was in the space just vacated by Harry’s shaft, in between his pole and his muscled, reclining
torso. She let go of his cock and it sprang back, smashing into Hermione’s face and slapping her
silly.

Hermione moaned, withdrew her face from where it had been smashed against his shaft and said,
still gazing at his cock in wonder, “It feels like being hit by a broomstick.”

Harry chuckled again. He was just looking at Hermione with… adoration? Affection? Fondness?
Ginny couldn’t quite tell.

Hermione was actually playing with Harry’s cock like a girl who had found a fascinating new toy,
swinging it this way and that, slapping her face over and over again (Merlin, Ginny thought, it’s
so big her face doesn’t even span the upper half), mussing up her hair with it, nipping at it and
laying kisses around its bulbous head.

Ginny plunged her middle finger and ring finger into her snatch – she was wet. The sight of the
Head Girl ruining her perfect face with Harry’s giant-sized penis was just too much. Ginny started
plunging her fingers back and forth into her own pussy like she was possessed.
Hermione’s eyes then narrowed with a fierce determination Ginny had only seen on her when she
tried to solve a particularly frustrating piece of homework. “I… want this,” she said fiercely. Harry
just smiled at her and said, “Oh, you’ll get it alright, Hermione.”

“I want you,” Hermione repeated wildly and then stood up on the bed right beside Harry. She
faced towards the camera - showing off her entire front profile to Ginny - turning her back to
Harry and planted her left leg firmly on Harry’s other side. She leaned forward, stroking down her
legs sensuously.

She’s doing this for Ron, Ginny thought as she stroked herself frantically, she’s giving her
boyfriend a show. The whore.

Her tiny, but perky, ass was right in front of Harry’s face and Harry leaned in to nuzzle it – while
the orb was slightly off to the side of the bed, Ginny could not quite see Harry’s face as he
nuzzled Hermione’s ass, but her ass cheeks jiggled and Hermione squeaked. The Head Girl then
trailed her ass down, mashing her ass cheeks around his chin and onto his neck; Harry face
emerged from her ass crack with a grin on his face. She then trailed her ass down and onto his
chest and down on his abdomen as she slowly sat down on Harry’s midriff. His cock angled
forward again as Hermione settled into a comfortable position on Harry’s abdomen. Now,
Hermione was on top of Harry and they were both facing the orb, their legs splayed out with
Hermione’s legs looking amazingly slender superimposed on Harry’s tree trunks.

The Head Girl’s legs lay right on top of Harry’s own legs and her ass was sitting on his midriff.
Her pussy was flush against the base of Harry’s fat cock, but Ginny could not see it because
Harry’s massive shaft stood ramrod straight right in front of Hermione, his base in front of her
crotch and his head all the way near Hermione’s breasts.

“She so fucking tiny!” Ginny gasped to herself as she continued to knead her tits and massage her
clit, “Harry, you freak!”

Hermione moaned and leaned back against Harry’s chest as she ground her crotch right against
Harry’s pole. She pushed and ground this way and that and Harry’s penis swayed with her
movements, still covering up her twat with his girth. Ginny gulped as she saw rivulets of a
transparent fluid run smoothly down Harry’s enormous hairless balls – obviously Hermione was
gushing, just like Ginny was.

And then Hermione, still seated on Harry’s crotch with his cock jutting out in front of her, bent
over, her modest breasts draping around the mid-section of Harry’s rod; she grabbed around the
lower half of his shaft, pushing it against her stomach and kissed his cockhead with pouty lips.
Harry threw his head back and moaned; his hands moved off the couch and Harry started
massaging Hermione’s slender back, working over her shoulders and her upper back.

And the kiss deepened as Hermione’s lips drew apart; her mouth widened and her lips slid slowly
around his crown. She bent even further and with a loud slurp his enormous crown stuffed into her
wet mouth.

“Fuck yes!” Harry groaned. Hermione then started mashing her lips on his enormous dome like
she was eating it so that she slurped down even further. “Munch on my dick!”

His entire fat crown had been crammed into her mouth now and Hermione sank even further until
she was a quarter of the way down his rod before she started gagging. She choked and dribbled
around his penis and tried to rise up but Harry moved a hand off her back to the back of her head
and held her in place. Both of Hermione’s hands were rubbing frantically up and down Harry’s
shaft as she desperately tried to rise up and free her mouth of his enormous invader, but Harry just
grinned as he held her in place with a single hand.
Ginny started stroking her pussy furiously at the sight of his Hermione choking on her boyfriend’s
massive meatstick as it clogged up her throat. Hermione’s eyes were rolling up with lack of
oxygen even as she tugged and pulled at the lower three quarters of Harry’s rigid shaft that was
not stuffed into her throat, wiggling and grinding against his meat as her hands tugged up Harry’s
meat and then smacked into his springy balls painlessly as she stroked down. Her spit dribbled all
the way down Harry’s cock and accumulated on her hands, then dropping down onto his testes,
which were nestled onto the bed.

Suddenly, Harry let go and Hermione withdrew with a gasp. She wheezed and panted, her
gorgeous tits with their bullet sized nipples heaving up and down as she rose off his shaft with
strands of spit dribbling down her mouth.

“That… how you… treat a woman?” Hermione asked through panting breaths.

“No,” Harry said casually, “That’s how I treat a cock tease, Hermione. All of those previous
encounters, commanding me and using me like you owned me. And now, you’ve got a recording
orb in front of our bed.”

“Uh…” Hermione gasped, “It’s for… recording.”

Harry’s eyes turned flinty. “For… Ron?” he asked.

“Forget about all that,” Hermione said suddenly, her voice clearing, “Just… focus on me.”

There’s something very wrong here, Ginny thought, previous encounters? I thought there was
only that one time?

Yet, she could not stop herself. Hermione looked so sexy – the normally poised, virginal girl, was
now sitting behind an enormous cock, slutting herself up like a bitch in heat.

“Fuck,” Ginny moaned, pressing up on her inner walls, searching desperately for that spot, “She’s
fucking hot!”

Harry just settled back, though he seemed a little colder. “Go on, then,” he said. Hermione,
though, just smiled and looked straight at the orb… looked straight at Ginny (though Ginny
thought Hermione was actually looking straight at Ron).

“I could play with this for hours,” Hermione said sultrily as she kept jerking up and down the
lower half of Harry’s shaft as she hunched over his fat cockhead.

Harry didn’t answer. He just held onto her head pushed her back onto his cock. Hermione flashed
a smile at Harry’s cock as if welcoming it into her drooling trap and she leaned down, throwing
herself onto his meat and stuffing it down her throat again. She made a grrk sound as she choked
herself silly on Harry’s cock and this time, Harry wasn’t even forcing her down – he had
abandoned her head in favor of massaging her back again.

“Look at that little horny nerd go!” Ginny crowed.

Hermione then started moving up and down on Harry’s cock, keeping his crown in her mouth and
alternating between choking as his head hit the back of her throat and then breathing deeply
through her nose as she lifted herself up to the ridge where his crown met his shaft. And
considering the limited range of motion Hermione possessed, bent over on Harry’s lap as she was,
she was still doing an excellent job of blowing the length of his shaft she could access.

Harry eventually moved off her back, even as Hermione drooled and chomped on his penis like a
slut, and started palming her tits, bending forward onto her. He pulled at Hermione’s nipples - and
such amazing nipples they were – that were standing at attention like never before, aroused
beyond belief.

“She loves it,” Ginny gasped, “She loves being treated like a whore.”

Harry pulled her off his shaft like she was weightless and Hermione squealed as she was dropped
back onto the bed unceremoniously. Harry pushed her onto her right side and pushed her left thigh
high into the air, spreading her legs apart. He then rolled over, so that his back was to the orb and
leant in to taste the Head Girl’s muff. His ass was to the orb and his enormous balls and shaft
hung right between his thighs – Ginny moaned at the erotic sight.

Ginny remembered that divine tongue plunging into her own depths. She knew what the bushy-
haired girl would soon feel.

And sure enough, Hermione started moaning as Harry started working over her – Ginny couldn’t
see his face; the orb was behind him. All she could see was the back of Harry’s head as he dove
right at Hermione’s cunt.

But she could see Hermione’s face. And she saw only utter bliss. The Head Girl’s eyes were
glazed, and she was looking right at the camera. She looked almost wild, with her brown hair
hanging around her, her beautiful face flushing with pleasure.

“Oh fuck!” Hermione moaned, just as Ginny murmured, “Morgana!”

The very air seemed to shimmer around Hermione and Ginny knew that Harry was using his
magic. His tongue was vibrating in Hermione’s wet snatch, plunging and twisting and twirling
around, caressing her inner spots and flicking this way and that, taking the Head Girl to the very
heights of pleasure.

Ginny knew what that felt like.

Hermione screamed and buried her fingers into Harry’s messy hair, pushing his head down into
her vagina.

“Lick me! Suck! YES!” the girl moaned, “YES YES YES YES YEEEEEEEEEEEE…”

And the last vowel lengthened as Hermione’s body spasmed around Harry’s head. The Head Girl
threw her head back and screamed to the heavens and Ginny came at the sight. That was beautiful
– Hermione looked gorgeous in the soft light of her room, shuddering around Ginny’s boyfriend.
Ginny spasmed around her own fingers as she approached her own orgasm, her pussy gushing as
it quivered in the throes of pleasure.

“What the fuck?” screamed an annoyed voice to her left, interrupting her period of bliss.

Ginny struggled as she sought to refocus on the intruder and come down from her orgasm, even as
the action on the screen continued.

Somehow, she managed to turn her face to her left. Her curtains had been wrenched open and she
looked right into the eyes of a very angry Gabrielle Delacour.

Oh… shit, Ginny thought.

***

Earlier
Gabrielle was exhausted. She had fielded questions from the press, talked to the veela and goblins
who had been quite enthusiastic about meeting her and had fended off overtures by overzealous
fans. Eventually, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room only to find, to her utter
disappointment that no one was around. Then again, curfew had long since passed them by, so
she supposed she should not be so surprised. She was a little bit disappointed that Harry was not
around to greet her on her triumphant return – she had looked forward to a solid night of fun to
celebrate her victory over Granger. She chuckled at that – she had won. It was a victory for the
rights of magical creatures, and she was proud of that… but it was also a victory for her. She was
with Harry – she had displaced Ginny from the top of the relationship ladder and she had
decimated Granger.

And she had plans for Harry. For that power. She wanted to be at his side as he accomplished
great things, guiding him and advising him. And loving him. She had plans for the world. And she
wanted to be at his side as they transformed the world together.

She slowly trudged through the empty Common Room and made her way up to the girls’ dorm.
Her friends were all sleeping peacefully in their own beds.

She looked at Ginny’s bed and saw that the redhead had pulled her curtains shut around her.
Gabrielle smirked.

She tiptoed to Ginny’s bed with a mischievous smile on her face – she had wanted to celebrate
this night with Harry, but in his absence, his girlfriend would do just as well. She wrenched the
curtain open and was hit by a sudden wave of sound.

Gabrielle jumped onto the bed in alarm and wrenched the curtains back around her hurriedly,
closing off the Silencing Charm Ginny had obviously cast on them. She then turned around and
gaped.

Ginny was masturbating – to a naked, writhing Hermione Granger on a silver screen.

At first, Gabrielle was a bit disturbed, but then she saw exactly why Granger was writhing. The
annoying know-it-all was experiencing an orgasm on the screen. More specifically, she was
experiencing an orgasm because she was being licked off by a hunk of a man with messy-looking
black hair.

Gabrielle was very familiar with that body and that hair.

Harry Potter was performing cunnilingus on Hermione Granger. And Ginny Weasley – Harry’s
(and Gabrielle’s) girlfriend – was masturbating to it.

“What… the… fuck?” Gabrielle screamed.

Ginny spasmed a bit more and then blearily looked in her direction. The redhead’s eyes widened
as she recognized Gabrielle on her own bed.

“Gabrielle, I… I…” Ginny stammered.

Gabrielle angrily gestured to the screen. “What is this? When was this recorded?”

Ginny blushed and started stammering.

Gabrielle felt the blood pounding in her temples now – she was boiling in rage.

“Is this being recorded now?” she asked dangerously.

Ginny shrank before her and tried to crawl away, but Gabrielle slapped her hands down on
Ginny’s shoulders and mounted the prone girl.

“Is. This. Being. Recorded. Now,” she asked through gritted teeth.

Ginny looked away and stammered, “Yes.”

Granger’s screams continued to echo behind Gabrielle. She leant over Ginny, her clothed breasts
pressing into the redhead’s naked tits.

“You lied to me,” Gabrielle hissed, “You told me you had told her to back off.”

Ginny whined and pleaded, “Please, Gabrielle, I… she told me this was the last time!”

“And you just said yes?” Gabrielle asked, her voice quivering with rage. Her aura twanged around
her, and she knew the redhead could feel it – Ginny’s nipples were pressing into her breasts and
she could feel it through her clothes.

“She had just lost against you, Gabrielle,” Ginny wailed, “I… just… I didn’t have the heart to say
no.”

Gabrielle glared at Ginny for a long moment, trying to ignore the bushy-haired slut screaming in
pleasure on the screen behind her. Ginny looked at her with pleading eyes, begging Gabrielle to
forgive her.

Eventually, Gabrielle let out a deep breath.

“Fine,” she gritted out, “If this is the last time…”

“It is!” Ginny replied hastily, “Hermione promised!”

“If this is the last time,” Gabrielle continued, “Sure. I don’t give a darn. She’s still with Ron,
right?”

Ginny nodded frantically.

“Fine,” Gabrielle said as she moved off Ginny, “Let Granger have this round of pity sex. After
that, though, Harry is all ours.”

She glared at Ginny again. “Do you understand?” she asked.

Ginny nodded, shaking her enormous tits in the process.

Gabrielle sighed and started pulling off her own robes.

Ginny stared as Gabrielle wriggled out of her clothes and knelt in front of Ginny. Then the
redhead squealed as Gabrielle sat down beside Ginny, lifted her up and placed Ginny on her own
lap.

“But you,” Gabrielle whispered into Ginny’s ear, “You need to be punished. For lying to me. And
for shlicking your naughty little pussy to Granger, of all people.”

Gabrielle hugged Ginny to her, pressing her own breasts against Ginny’s back. She then weighed
the redhead’s breasts. “Morgana,” Gabrielle rasped, “These tits are enormous.”

Ginny moaned as Gabrielle started kneading her breasts harshly. Gabrielle pinched Ginny’s tits
and pulled at the nipples… they stretched and stretched and stretched until Ginny screamed.
“I’M SORRY!” the redhead shrieked, “PLEASE!”

Gabrielle kissed around Ginny’s neck and relaxed her hold. She started massaging Ginny’s tits
and the redhead slumped against her.

“Never lie to me again,” Gabrielle hissed.

“Never,” Ginny gasped.

Gabrielle smiled and licked around the crook of Ginny’s neck as she continued what the redhead
had been doing by herself on the bed. As Granger shrieked and writhed onscreen like a flopping
fish, Gabrielle kneaded Ginny’s tit with one palm while she slapped a hand on Ginny’s clit,
eliciting a soft scream from the redhead and started pushing down on it, crushing it.

Ginny started grinding her own clit against Gabrielle’s fingers.

And Gabrielle felt her own stamen grow erect, pressing against Ginny’s amazing arse. Then
Gabrielle turned to look at the screen along with Ginny.

“What…?” Ginny gasped.

“You have an amazing derriere, ma chère,” Gabrielle moaned as she started grinding her erect
stamen right into the valley between Ginny’s huge cheeks, “Your bum feels like a pillow around
my stamen.”

Ginny just groaned as Gabrielle caught Ginny’s clit and pulled, drawing out another soft scream
from the redhead.

“Such an amazing body,” Gabrielle gasped as she ground Ginny onto her lap, “Huge tits, wide
ass… Harry must love working over you.”

Just then, Harry stood up on Hermione’s bed, even as the petite brunette lay on the bed quivering
with the aftershocks of her orgasm by Harry’s skilled tongue. The bed sank around Harry’s feet as
he bent down, hooked his hands under Hermione’s armpits and lifted her into the air. Hermione
gasped in surprise as she fastened her arms around Harry’s thick neck and hung onto him with her
legs around his mid-section. Harry’s cock, lathered in the Head Girl’s spit, was entirely erect and
pointing at an angle slightly greater than ninety degrees.

He hooked a single hand around Hermione’s back and lifted her even higher into the air.
Simultaneously, he grabbed his cock with the other hand and angled it up. He turned towards the
camera so that his grinning face was in full view along with his upward-pointing penis and
massive hanging balls. Hermione’s ass covered his chest, and her slender torso was to the side of
his face as the girl hung onto his head.

Hermione’s legs were hanging loose in mid-air, her body was flush against Harry, with his cock
pointing up between them.

“Does he know we’re watching?” Gabrielle gasped, plunging her fingers into Ginny’s pussy.

“No,” Ginny gasped, “Just… Ron.”

“Wait…” Gabrielle asked with distaste, “Your brother’s watching this too?”

Ginny nodded and moaned. Gabrielle felt slightly dirty, but she was secretly happy too – for all
her book-smarts, Granger was an idiot. She definitely would not endear herself to Harry by
“performing” for her boyfriend.

Hermione groaned on the screen as Harry’s enormous cockhead pushed into her tiny slit.

“That’s going to be a tight fit,” Gabrielle remarked.

Harry was holding on to Hermione’s ass now, letting her down on his cock inch by inch.
Hermione’s toes curled and uncurled as she sank down on Harry’s shaft.

“In my… stomach,” Hermione moaned – Harry was actually pulling her down now, her tight twat
expanding in ludicrous fashion as his shaft burrowed deeper and deeper inside. Within seconds,
Harry’s cock was completely sheathed inside the Head Girl, whose cunt was leaking obscenely
over his cock. Her fluids were dripping out of her twat, despite the fact that her lips seemed to be
sealed shut around his massive girth. Her tight ass was sitting on his balls now.

“Merde!” Gabrielle gasped, “She’s so… tiny! How is she even taking that monster?”

Harry pushed Hermione’s ass up in the air and her twat dragged up as well along his cock,
leaving a trail of arousal behind. Hermione squealed in pleasure and then Harry pulled her ass
down on his cock again. Her ass smashed into his springy balls and Hermione squealed again.

And then a series of squeals and moans tumbled out of her as Harry started pushing and pulling
her ass up and down his cock, manhandling her as if she weighed nothing. Her cunt scraped
around his cock, and seemed to be drooling around his cock.

“It… It’s starting up… HARRY!” Hermione screamed as she started twitching spasmodically.

“She’s cumming,” Ginny moaned as Gabrielle absently pushed up against her inner walls. The
half-veela herself was just gaping at the sight of Harry’s monstrous shaft spearing into the
brunette’s twat as it dribbled pussy juices all over the place.

Hermione was licking and moaning all over Harry’s face, even as he worked her up and down on
his cock like a puppet. But her hands were coming off his neck and her torso arched back – the
Head Girl was obviously cumming too hard to maintain her grip.

So Harry plopped down on the bed and lay on it. Hermione was now squatting over his cock with
her legs bent double so that her feet were on his thighs behind her. Harry kept his hands tight on
Hermione’s ass as he continued using the Head Girl like a flesh light, fucking her onto his penis.
Gabrielle wished it was her twat that monster was burying into and that it was her shuddering on
top of his mid-section, but she comforted herself with the notion that this was Granger’s last time
with her mate.

“Oh Merlin, I wish I could suck on those balls now,” Ginny moaned. Gabrielle just grinned –
Harry’s balls did look juicy.

“Even with Granger riding him?” she asked.

“YES!” Ginny screamed as Gabrielle started stroking in and out of her even faster, making an
incredibly dirty sound, “I’D SUCK HER OFF TOO!”

“Such a submissive little slut,” Gabrielle said, “Hermione would never allow it though.”

“No,” Ginny gasped, “But you would.”

Gabrielle’s grin grew wider. “Oh, you’d lick my cunt while I ride your boyfriend’s fat cock, will
you?” she asked huskily.
“YES!” Ginny screamed again.

Gabrielle nibbled at Ginny’s earlobe playfully as she continued to finger the redhead’s pussy and
rub against Ginny’s pillowy rear end.

Hermione arched her back on the screen as she screamed, “HARREEEEEE… STILL
CUMMING! PLEASE… REST!”

Gabrielle laughed derisively. “Salope,” she muttered, “She has no idea what to do with that cock.”

Harry pulled the Head Girl off his cock, her cunt lips struggling to free themselves of his slick
shaft. Hermione kept twitching at intervals as her pussy seemed to gush liquids at a phenomenal
rate, even as she tumbled off his cock on her side.

But Harry did not intend to leave his cock unattended. Just as Hermione landed on the bed, he
pulled on her head and shoved it against his cock. Hermione squealed as Harry turned his hips and
angled his cock straight into her mouth. The Head Girl opened her mouth obediently and let him
stuff his crown into her mouth. Harry started pushing his hips back and forth, ramming a quarter of
his enormous shaft in and out of the Head Girl’s hot mouth. He brushed her hair away so that
Hermione’s entire face was visible to the orb with his cock splitting her mouth apart.

“Head Girl indeed!” Harry crowed and laughed, “You give amazing head!”

Hermione just shuddered and screamed, “MMMMFFFFFF NNNNFFFFF NFFFFFF!” around

his cock. Gabrielle laughed at that.

“Look at her take that!” Ginny squealed. Gabrielle was slightly annoyed – she had never given
Harry a blowjob before. Harry was using the Head Girl’s mouth, fucking his cock in and out of it.

“Enough,” Harry said after several minutes of ramming Hermione’s trap and shifted on the bed so
that he was lying behind Hermione, both of them on their sides so that Harry was spooning
Hermione. Hermione’s petite body was right in front of the camera, but it did not quite manage to
hide Harry’s muscled torso behind her. Harry lifted Hermione’s thigh into the air and pushed it
against her side in an amazing show of flexibility from the Head Girl. Her legs were wide apart
now, displaying her tight, gushing cunt for all to see.

“You bastard,” Hermione moaned, “I haven’t stopped cumming yet.”

Harry just angled his cock up into her twat and with a twist of his hips burst into her pussy again.
Harry extended his arm around the thigh that was pressed up her side and around Hermione’s
breasts so that he was hugging the brunette to him. He curled his other hand around Hermione’s
tiny neck, so that her breasts were squashed between his hands, her thigh and the bed. And then
Harry just held Hermione in place as he started slamming his cock in and out of her twat, his balls
slapping against her quivering cunt.

“BASTARD!” Hermione screamed and the scream continued to taper off into a high-pitched
whine, “HNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!”

“She can’t stop cumming!” Ginny moaned. Gabrielle gaped at the sight – but it was the sound that
was getting to her. As Harry’s cock speared in and out of Hermione’s impossibly tight quim, she
heard this scraping sound, like Harry was trying to stuff his cock into a tiny sleeve made of wet
fabric – it was erotic.

Gabrielle couldn’t take it anymore. She lifted Ginny up and sank the redhead down onto her
slender tubular clitoris… her stamen. Both girls moaned.
“How are you still so tight?” Gabrielle gasped, “Harry should have destroyed your cunt by now
with his monster!”

Ginny just rocked back and forth on Gabrielle, moaning and still gaping at the screen. “Fuck!” the
redhead gasped, “Harry’s really giving it to her!”

Gabrielle just started palming Ginny’s massive tits, pulling at her nipples as she lapped at Ginny’s
right cheek. Harry had doubled his pace – he was pulverizing Hermione’s tiny pussy now. The
Head Girl wouldn’t be able to walk the next day, in Gabrielle’s estimation. Gabrielle started
grinding into Ginny now, feeling the redhead’s walls contracting around her stamen.

Hermione’s face was scrunched up now – her eyes unseeing and wild and her mouth gaping and
screaming as Harry continued to pound her. Gabrielle could hear her pussy sloshing now, wet
and tight around Harry’s fat meat as his balls slapped onto her clit.

And suddenly, Harry sat up on the bed, moving the Head Girl up with him, still impaled on his
cock. Hermione’s hands and legs scrambled for purchase on the bed as she shrieked in surprise –
she was sitting on his balls now with his cock shoved deep inside her womb. Now though, she
was facing them, with her back to Harry’s face. All Gabrielle could see was Hermione’s beautiful
face contorting in pleasure as a massive penis dug into her cunt, splitting her hairless twat wide
open. Hermione’s nipples were erect and her breasts bounce as she desperately tried to continue
riding Harry.

And Harry raised her ass up into the air. With Hermione squatting on the bed slightly above his
midriff with about half his slick cock up her cunt, held in place mostly by Harry’s powerful grip,
he started pounding up into the Head Girl. She was literally along for the ride now, squatting on
top of him as he slammed up into her.

“RUINING MY CUNNY, HARRY! YOU’RE RUINING MY TINY LITTLE CUNNY!”

Hermione screamed.

Gabrielle tried to mimic Harry’s movements, pounding up into Ginny who was sitting on her lap,
but the redhead was too heavy. “This is all your fault, Ginny,” Gabrielle panted, “You’re letting
your boyfriend destroy another woman.”

“Yes,” Ginny moaned, still not taking her eyes off the erotic sight on the screen, “Hermione looks
gorgeous.”

The Head Girl was indeed gorgeous, even in Gabrielle’s envious eyes – with that flushed face,
frazzled hair and slender physique, bouncing around over Harry’s engorged shaft.

“HAREEEEE!” Hermione screamed, her eyes widening as Harry’s shaft continued to scrape her
insides, “SOMETHING… HAPPENING! I… CAN’T… CUMMING TOO HARD!”

“YES!” Ginny screamed, “Fuck her!”

“OH SWEET MOTHER OF… HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!” Hermione

screamed, reaching her highest pitch yet and there was a deafening squelch and Hermione’s pussy
erupted. A fountain seemed to burst forth around Harry’s fat cock, spraying over his balls. The
brunette continued to scream as more fountains gushed forth, ejecting jets of fluid all over the bed,
and then over the orb itself. The image blurred as Hermione’s pussy juices landed on the orb with
a loud splat, after which the self-cleaning charms kicked in and the image cleared yet again,
revealing a bewildered, spasming Hermione Granger writhing around Harry’s cock.

“W-W-WHAT’SH HAPPENINNNNNNNNNNG?” the Head Girl screamed,

“AAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHH!”

Both Gabrielle and Ginny stopped grinding into each other as they gaped at the screen. “She’s…
squirting,” Gabrielle whispered in terrified arousal.

“Fuck,” Ginny gasped, “I don’t think she’s ever… done that… before.”

“She told you that?” Gabrielle asked, not looking away from the screen as Hermione let out
another series of screams and squirts.

“YOU BROKE IT!” Hermione screamed stupidly as she squirt noisily again, around Harry’s
cock, her eyes rolling up into her head, “YOU’RE BREAKING MY CUNT!”

Gabrielle heard Harry laughing at that, but she was too absorbed in the sight to even register
Hermione’s words.

“She… she… told… me… she… never…” Ginny moaned.

Gabrielle numbly murmured, “We have to stop this… stop this… before…”

And then she saw Harry’s balls contract and pulse. His cock swelled and recoiled.

“’Mione!” Harry groaned as he unloaded right into Hermione’s spasming cunt.

Hermione collapsed back onto Harry’s chest. Gabrielle could see her dripping cunt shuddering
around Harry’s girth now, even as droplets of Harry’s sperm leaked out from her gaping twat. She
couldn’t actually see their faces – just the sight of Harry’s incredibly thick cockmeat pulsing into
Hermione’s vagina.

Ginny spasmed around Gabrielle’s stamen at that moment as she turned her face sideways and
kissed Gabrielle on the lips. Gabrielle kissed her right back, then drew away with a surprised gasp.

“You… came?” Gabrielle asked, stupefied, “You came watching your boyfriend diddle
Granger?”

Ginny blushed as she looked away and back at the screen. She ground herself on Gabrielle as she
gasped out, “I… guess… I’m just turned on at the sight of Harry with another… woman.”

Gabrielle was taken aback by this entire turn of events – that had been intense. She had no doubt
she was finally part of Harry’s harem, but apparently, she had done her job too well. Ginny was
turning out to be far more submissive than she had previously thought.

“You can watch Harry and I go at it whenever you want,” Gabrielle said cheekily, trying to cover
up her dismay, “At least this is Granger’s last time.”

And just then, she heard Harry murmur, “I should leave, Hermione.”

Yes, Gabrielle thought, leave. Please.

“No,” Hermione panted, “Please. Don’t go.”

Harry pushed Hermione off him onto the bed, his cock popping out of Hermione’s sloshing, cum-
filled quim as he made to get up. Hermione turned to her side and extended an arm around him.

“I love you,” the brunette said, as firmly as she could, trying to come down from her orgasmic
bliss.
Harry was now sitting up on the bed, but he turned to face the prone Hermione and gaped at her.

“I mean it,” Hermione repeated, “I love you.”

Harry looked at the orb with bewildered eyes. Ginny gasped in shock as Gabrielle continued to
gawk at the screen. Her throat suddenly felt dry and the blood seemed to pound in her temples.
The world went very quiet.

“Hermione… I… Ron…” Harry stammered.

Hermione laughed shrilly and then coughed as she ran out of breath. “Ron and I split up during
Christmas, Harry.”

“What?” Harry asked, stupefied.

“Ron called me over for Christmas and we discussed our relationship. It was going nowhere,”
Hermione said, her voice slowly gaining strength as she went on.

“Was it… was it because of me?” Harry asked, though his face strangely showed no guilt – just
curiosity.

“No,” Hermione said, “You started becoming the only reason Ron and I were together. You are
more of a fixture in his life than I am.” There was no bitterness in the Head Girl’s voice, just a
weird happiness.

“Ron has his eye on Vicky Frobisher now,” Hermione continued, “Won’t be long before he asks
you to… you know… like I said, you are a fixture in his life now.”

“I see,” Harry said smoothly. His eyes glinted.

“And I realized I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted to be with you,” Hermione murmured.

Harry’s eyes softened and turned warm. “Even if you have to share me?” he asked.

“Do you love me, Harry?” Hermione asked in return.

“I do,” Harry said softly.

Hermione sighed happily as she rose up gingerly on the bed and placed her head on Harry’s
shoulder, hugging him as they sat side by side, completely naked. Harry hugged her right back.

Hermione smirked at him. “Then I’d better be on top of your harem, Potter,” she said, “Because
I’m never leaving you. Ever.”

Harry just grinned back, and they both tumbled back onto the bed, snuggling into each other and
kissing.

“Wait,” Harry said suddenly, drawing apart from Hermione, “So… uh… why’s the orb recording
all of this? How did you even get an orb?”

Hermione half-giggled, half-panted. “It’s actually a present for you,” she said, sticking her tongue
out at him, “From George Weasley to his stakeholder.”

“So he entrusted it in your care?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yes,” Hermione said airily, “He mentioned that he wanted to give this to you for Christmas but
missed out on that opportunity. So I just said I’d carry it back and give it to you.”
“So… uh… that’s why you were recording this?” Harry asked, “I mean… I’m guessing Ron’s not
at the other end watching this… because that would be…”

Hermione shuddered. “Please,” she muttered, “Let’s not spoil the afterglow. No, Ron isn’t
watching at the other end. But someone is.”

She had an edge to her voice when she uttered the last sentence.

“Dare I even ask who?” Harry asked warily, “Is it still recording?”

“Oh, it is still recording,” Hermione asked, “Your change of status… our change of status is very
relevant to the audience.”

“And just who is the audience?” Harry asked slowly.

“Oh, just your girlfriend,” Hermione said.

Harry just gaped at Hermione, but the Head Girl chose that very moment to collapse and fall
asleep.

***

“BITCH!” Ginny screamed, “THE HORRID, LITTLE… LYING SKANK!”

Gabrielle fumed. She pushed Ginny off her, rose onto her knees, grabbed her wand and waved it
at the screen. The silver screen went dark and the broadcast ceased.

She turned to face Ginny, her eyes blazing.

Ginny shrank immediately, her temper lessening as she beheld Gabrielle’s fierce countenance.

“Gabrielle… I…” Ginny said hesitantly, “I didn’t know that she would…”

“I don’t blame you,” Gabrielle said, though she was angry at Ginny, “Well… not entirely. She
played you. She played us.”

Suddenly, Gabrielle’s victory over Hermione Granger in the dueling tournament seemed utterly
hollow – she had won a skirmish in what was going to be a very long war.

“I… I can talk to Harry,” Ginny started, but Gabrielle cut her off.

“No,” the half-veela said immediately, facing Ginny, “You will do nothing of the sort. If Harry
says Hermione is part of our circle now, she is. We’re not second-guessing him.”

“But…” Ginny started but Gabrielle interrupted her.

“She has a disadvantage,” the half-veela said, “She’s one woman. There are two of us on this side
of the ring.”

Gabrielle smiled and continued, “Don’t worry, Gin-Gin. We can still come out on top. Either way,
you better get used to the idea of sharing your boyfriend with Hermione. There are four people in
the relationship now.

“But we’ll still come out on top. I will come out on top. I am veela. I never settle for second place
in the heart of the man I choose to be with.”
“So… Hermione is… now… with Harry?” Ginny asked.

Gabrielle smiled at the redhead. “Yes,” she said, “For better or worse. But like I said, she is going
to have to settle for second place.”

***
 Chapter 12

“So…” Natalie asked, “Uh… how many girls is he going out with now?”

“Natalie,” Harry said tiredly, “I’m right here.”

“I’m still ready to jump in,” Demelza said.

“Me too,” Nandini added quickly.

Harry sighed. They were sitting at the breakfast table – he had smuggled himself out of the Head
Girl’s dorm in the early hours of the morning. He had tried waking Hermione, but she had been
sleeping like a log. The only problem was – he had not been as discrete as he had hoped. Mary
MacDonald had caught him walking out and had given him detention, though there had been a
smirk on her face when she did so. And to make things even worse, Natalie had been present as
MacDonald had interrogated him in the Common Room about his “activities” in the Head Girl’s
dorm. And, much to his consternation, he had completely forgotten about a Silencing Charm and
so had Hermione.

And so, MacDonald had heard everything – something she seemed to take great pleasure in
describing in front of an open-mouthed Natalie and an embarrassed Harry. He supposed
Hermione was in for a chewing out as well, if she ever got up.

“Why were you even in the Common Room?” Harry asked sourly.

“I… uh…” Natalie stammered.

“She totally forgot to do her Charms homework, again,” Nandini said with a grin, “That’s our
Natalie – doing her homework at the last minute.” Natalie just stuck her tongue out at the dusky
girl.

“So,” Demelza asked, “You think MacDonald’s going to jump Harry in detention?”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry said and blearily looked around for Ginny or Gabrielle, but the two were
nowhere to be found. He had no idea how they would take this entire thing, and was quite
alarmed when he realized he did not care.

“Oh, they had breakfast early and left,” Demelza said, sidling up to him, “Said they had to ‘have a
talk’ with the Head Girl.”

“Uh, oh,” Natalie said in a sing-song voice.

And just then, Demelza started kissing around his neck as he tried to eat.

“What the… fuck?” Natalie asked, completely taken aback, “How many of you are with him?!”

Nandini leaned in on the opposite side and started trailing soft kisses down his neck as well. Harry
just sighed as Natalie looked on open-mouthed. He raised his fork to get a morsel in before either
Nandini or Demelza tried to take this further right at the breakfast table, but he was interrupted
again, this time by an owl.

He shrugged both girls off, and they tittered. He then proceeded to untie a note from the grey post-
owl that had just landed on his table – he had never seen the owl before.
The letter was from Audrey. He frowned and opened it.

Hi Harry,

Aberforth is back, earlier than expected. He was pestering me about my rent yesterday, and said
that the Hog’s Head wouldn’t be open for some time yet, but I thought you should know.

You owe me a good fucking.

Love,
Audrey

Harry chuckled at the last sentence and looked at his schedule – he only had Charms that
afternoon. He still had quite some time to go for the class. If he hurried, he could make it to
Hogsmeade and back before the class started.

Harry stood up abruptly, said goodbye to the bewildered girls and made his way to his dorm to
retrieve his cloak; then, he would make his way to the third floor to a certain statue of a one-eyed
witch.

***

Harry ignored the “CLOSED” sign hanging on the front door of the Hog’s Head Inn and opened
it, stepping right into the gloomy interior of the pub.

“It’s closed,” a snide voice snarled at him.

Sure enough, behind the bar, looking as unkempt as ever was Aberforth Dumbledore, brother of
his former Headmaster. He was… cleaning a glass with a cloth that looked like it had been soaked
in dragon piss. Harry sighed – some things never changed.

“Even for me?” Harry asked.

Aberforth looked up and saw Harry. “Ah, of course,” he said, his voice not losing its snide edge,
“It’s Harry Potter, hero and savior of the world. How may I be of service, Potter?”

Harry walked up to the pub casually. “I needed to talk to you,” he said, dusting off the seat of one
of the barstools. He sat on it after making sure that it was clean.

“Come back in March,” Aberforth said, “The bar’ll be open and I’ll be all ears.”

“It’s not something that can wait,” Harry said coldly.

“If you’re here to ask me about my brother, or discuss our shared past,” Aberforth said equally
coldly, “Don’t. Don’t you dare, Potter.”

“Oh, I’m not here to bring up old grudges,” Harry said dismissively, “But I am here to discuss a
certain portion of your shared past.”

Harry saw Aberforth opening his mouth to reply angrily, but he stalled the bartender, “No. It’s not
what you think,” Harry said, gesturing in the direction of Ariana Dumbledore’s portrait, “I’m not
here to discuss that. I’m here to discuss more… recent events.”

“Do I look like I care to answer your questions, Potter?” Aberforth asked.

The air crackled as Harry summoned the Elder Wand out of thin air and brandished it in front of
the older man. Aberforth’s eyes widened in surprise, and he recoiled.
the older man. Aberforth’s eyes widened in surprise, and he recoiled.

“What… how…?” he stammered.

Harry gestured his wand around the room and cast every single secrecy charm and silencing spell
he knew. Aberforth just watched him open-mouthed as he cast his protective enchantments.

Finally, Harry stopped casting and turned to the barkeep. “Do I have your attention now?” he
asked.

“Yes,” Aberforth gasped, “He… he told me its power would die with him.”

“Dumbledore meant to keep his promise,” Harry said, “He meant to die with the wand in his hand
– I suppose he surmised that if his murderer did not actually want to murder him and that he
wanted to die, the wand would lose its power.”

Aberforth did not take his eyes off the wand in Harry’s hand, but he asked, “So… Severus…?”

“… Killed Dumbledore,” Harry finished, “But he was only following Albus’ orders.”

Aberforth finally took his eyes off the wand and peered at Harry. “I see,” Aberforth said, “In
retrospect, I should not be so surprised. He always was a manipulative old coot.”

“He was,” Harry admitted, “But he’s also the reason I’m alive.”

The Elder Wand disappeared from sight at Harry’s command and Aberforth seemed to relax.

“I hate that piece of wood,” the old man muttered in distaste as he lowered his gaze to the glass in
his hand, “I loathe the fact that my brother left it under my protection. It… it was the wand that
took the only thing I ever cared about from this world.”

“I’m sorry to bring it up,” Harry said, “But I’m a bit desperate. And it was the only way I could
convince you to help me.”

Aberforth looked up at him and grinned in humorless fashion. “It’s affecting your mind already, is
it not?” he asked.

Harry leaned back on the stool and crossed his arms. “So, you know how the wand affects its
owners,” he said.

“Of course I do,” Abeforth said, “We studied that accursed Deathstick for decades, Potter. My
brother and I… we scoured tomes for knowledge of how to control it… or in my case, destroy it
once and for all. Nothing we tried worked. Nothing I tried worked either – it’s simply too
powerful to be destroyed.”

“And what about control?” Harry asked.

“My brother never got around to using it until a year before his death,” Aberforth said, “The only
way to control that damn wand is to never use it. My brother knew the effect it had on people…
once he deprived Grindelwald of it, he immediately came to me and we devised a Fidelius Charm
for keeping it from ever being used.”

Harry nodded. He knew all of this already. “But he came to you… before he died,” he supplied.

“Yes,” Aberforth continued, “He popped in here one morning – during the summer – with a
charred hand and told me he was dying. That he needed the Elder Wand so that it could… die…
with him.
“I guess that did not work as he intended.”

“It almost did,” Harry said with a sigh, “But there was a wrinkle in his plan. Before Severus
Snape could… kill your brother, Draco Malfoy - one of the students at Hogwarts who was
working for Death Eaters – disarmed him.”

“So the wand passed on to the Malfoy boy,” Aberforth gasped and shuddered.

“He never realized it though,” Harry said, “Malfoy never even figured he owned something like
this. I suppose Dumbledore was right – you have to use the wand before it recognizes you as its
owner.”

“And you disarmed Malfoy?” Aberforth asked.

“I did… during our escape… thanks to you,” Harry said.

Aberforth waved him off. “So the wand came to you,” the old man said, “Only, you were
unaware of its power and used it to cast magic.”

Harry sighed. “Yes… the circumstances of its capture are… complicated, but yes, I used it.”

“And now it’s affecting you,” Aberforth said shrewdly.

“Yes,” Harry said, “I… I think I’m slowly losing my capacity for… any sort of higher emotion. I
feel like they’ve been cut off – I feel… angry… all the time… or apathetic. Like there’s this
monster inside me, clawing to get out. It’s like I’m turning into this chained beast… only, the
chains are growing more and more fragile as time passes.”

Harry paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he continued, “I’m rambling. But I need to
know. Do you know of a way I could control it? If we placed it under a Fidelius Charm right
now, would its effects be suppressed?”

Aberforth sighed. “I’m afraid not, Potter,” he said, “In the last year of his life, when my brother
began using this wand, he complained of the same effects. According to him, the wand was
making him reckless. It took a regimen of potions to keep him alive and sane – and my brother
was a prodigious Occlumens. So we tried to put it back under a Fidelius Charm – my brother
wanted to see if that would shield him from its effects for a while.

“It did not. My brother was still affected – the influence of the Elder Wand cut through the most
powerful charm in existence like it wasn’t even there. Once the wand knows, Potter, it is
relentless.”

Harry massaged his forehead with his hands. “I see,” he said, “Is there anything you can do? Or
tell me?”

“Afraid not, Potter,” Aberforth said, though his voice was completely devoid of pity, “And
frankly, I’d rather not have anything to do with that damn wand ever again.”

“Aberforth,” Harry said with closed eyes, as he kept massaging his forehead, “I’m not going to
keep this wand forever. I know it, and you know it. Day after day, I feel myself… devolving.
Becoming primal – more bestial. I feel the blood pounding in my ears, calling for battle and
violence. I feel… less than human. And some day, a powerful wizard… or witch… is going to
take this wand from me. Perhaps in combat. Perhaps by merely snatching it from my hands.
Perhaps by slitting my throat in my sleep. The pieces are all in place – a clever wizard would
surmise that Dumbledore was the last owner of the Elder Wand, and that his natural successor
would be me.
“The point being – someday, someone is going to take this wand from me and they are going to
use it to wreak utter havoc. Look at every wizard or witch that has possessed this wand – apart
from Dumbledore, every single one of them has used this wand to destroy the lives of hundreds of
people.

“Is that the sort of fate you’re consigning me to?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked straight at Aberforth. “Someday, another aspiring Dark Lord is
going to pry this wand from my cold, dead fingers and use it to take innocent lives. Is that what
you want?”

Aberforth sighed and looked away – Harry knew he was looking in Ariana’s direction.

“Charming speech,” he said, “But I’m afraid my answer is unchanged. I cannot help you.”

Harry flushed and opened his mouth to argue, but Aberforth held out his own hand and said,
“However… I can lend a hand. Stay right there, Potter.”

The old man then shambled his way out of the room. Harry heard thumping, as if Aberforth was
going up a flight of steps. Harry tapped his fingers on the bar impatiently, waiting for the man to
return.

After five minutes, the old man came back down and handed Harry a slim book with a blank,
silver cover.

“This is a journal written by my brother – the entirety of his research on the Elder Wand,”
Aberforth said wearily, “He entrusted it to me. He said the very cream of his research… our
research… on the subject of the Elder Wand was all contained in that book.”

“I see,” Harry said, though he could not keep a hopeful note from his voice.

“However, I should warn you that the book does not detail a method to control the power of that
wand,” Aberforth said, “Albus never found a way to control that thing. But… if it gives you
comfort, Potter, you can have it. I suspect you’d value it more than I do, in any case.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks,” he rasped, and then proceeded to leave the Inn.

***

“So,” Gabrielle asked delicately, “Why did you summon us here, Granger?”

She, Ginny and Hermione were all assembled in the Head Girl’s dorm – Hermione had sent them
a note by way of Crookshanks at breakfast, asking them to come to her room to “talk things over.”
Of course, Gabrielle had been reluctant, but Ginny had dragged her along in any case.

“Please,” the Head Girl said tiredly, “Call me Hermione, Gabrielle. And I would’ve met you
elsewhere, but I don’t think I can move. My legs have never felt so sore.”

Gabrielle inclined her head. “Very well… Hermione,” she said, “Answer the question.”

Ginny looked between her and Hermione warily.

Hermione turned to Ginny and said, her eyes warm and apologetic, “Ginny, I never meant to hurt
you yesterday.”

Ginny’s eyes widened momentarily, but then she pursed her lips and looked at Hermione with
disapproval. “You lied to me,” the redhead said in a hurt voice, “I… you’re my friend.”

“Ginny,” Hermione said hastily, “I… I love Harry. Just as you do. I couldn’t give him up without
a fight.”

Ginny tried to reply, but Hermione cut her off. “However,” the Head Girl ground out, “That
doesn’t mean lying to you was the right thing to do. I had to choose between the easy way and the
hard way, and I chose the easy path. And I apologize – I’m really sorry. I was just a bit… miffed,
last night. And wanted revenge so bad… I forgot our friendship.

“But I promise I’m not trying to sabotage your relationship with Harry,” Hermione said sincerely,
“I promise I’m not trying to usurp your position, or take your place. Nonetheless, I’m not letting
go of him. I should have talked this over with you and then made a move… but I was so scared
you’d refuse. And worse, I tried to humiliate you in the process. But now that I’ve got him, and
now that I know how… amazing he is… I guess I just realized you didn’t deserve that. I’m really
sorry.”

Ginny and Hermione stared at each other for a while and then the redhead sighed. “I guess I
always knew this was a possibility,” Ginny said wistfully, “I know I’m not enough… to handle
him. I’d rather it was just me, but if I had to share him with someone, I’d rather it be you and
Gabrielle.”

The two girls smiled at each other. “Plus,” Ginny said, her smile turning shrewd, “I like watching
you going at it with Harry.”

Hermione blushed. “I’m sorry you… watched it at all,” she said, “I guess I was being a bit
impulsive when I gave you that screen.”

“Don’t be,” Ginny said airily, “Gabrielle and I sure enjoyed watching you with Harry. Next time,
I’ll even join in.”

Hermione flushed an even deeper shade of red and stammered, “I, uh, don’t think I’m ready for
something like… that. And I don’t swing that way, Ginny. Like… at all.”

Ginny just giggled.

“Wait,” Gabrielle said, slightly taken aback at the renewed camaraderie between Ginny and
Hermione.

Hermione sighed and turned to look at her. “Gabrielle,” she said, “I know you like Harry…”

“I love him,” Gabrielle snarled.

“Of course,” Hermione said in placating fashion, “But does he love you?”

Gabrielle gaped at Hermione. “I…” she stammered, and just like that, her old insecurities were
back again. Harry had freed her and made her addicted to his magic – she wanted him. Needed
him. Craved him. But now, she was entirely stumped by Hermione’s question.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Hermione said kindly, “I’ve seen how Harry looks at you
Gabby. He’s… passionate about you. He definitely likes you. And you probably have great
physical chemistry with him, being a veela and all. And I’m sure he will come to love you in the
future. You’re very beautiful. And a fierce dueler, as I learned to my detriment yesterday.”

“Wait,” Gabrielle said, “Why are you telling me all of this, Hermione? Why placate me at all?”
“Harry wants to be with you,” Hermione said.

“Not what I meant,” Gabrielle said, “Why are you trying to be so… diplomatic? You seemed
pretty happy shoving your little session with Harry in my face yesterday.”

Hermione lowered her gaze. “Again,” she said tiredly, “I’m really sorry about that. Yesterday, I
had lost a duel to you, and was on the verge of losing Harry… because you had asked Ginny to
stop him and me from…

“But now that I’m with him, I guess my perspective has changed. Even if Ginny had forbade me
from ever… being… with Harry again, Harry would not have stopped loving me. Or I, him.
Again, I should have talked this over with you – both of you – before I did any of this.”

“That’s Hermione for you,” Ginny said abruptly, “She just… does this stuff. Don’t let the geeky
exterior fool you – once, she suspected that Harry’s broomstick was cursed and went straight to
McGonagall without even talking it over with Harry. She just… rushes into things. And then
regrets it and cries all over the place.”

“I so did not cry all over the place,” Hermione said hotly, but Ginny just stuck out a tongue at her
and Hermione giggled. “I’ll get you for that, Ginny,” Hermione said good-naturedly.

The brunette then turned to Gabrielle and said, “Gabrielle, I’m just trying to call a truce here.
We’re all with Harry now. Let’s just stop… fighting. There’s plenty of him to go around… too
much of him, to be honest.”

“I agree with that,” Ginny added.

“So,” Hermione said, “Let’s just be friends with each other.”

Gabrielle stared at Hermione, pondering her words.

Hermione continued, “Look, Gabrielle, the thing is… I’ve realized that I… like you. You stand
for everything I actually cherish as an ideal. You’re a part-veela, and you’re proud of your
heritage. Your presence in the tournament is causing waves among the pureblood morons that
infest every level of our government. You’ve become a symbol for the rights of all sentient
magical beings – something that I deeply admire. I like you, Gabrielle, and I know we can be
friends.”

Gabrielle’s cold demeanor finally broke at that little speech. “I suppose I could be friends with
you,” Gabrielle said eventually, and Hermione smiled at her in relief. “I… sort of admire you too,
Hermione. You’re possibly the only person around that I can actually debate Runes and Magical
Theory with.”

“Are you calling me a dunce?” Ginny asked, though she was smiling.

“Of course not, love,” Gabrielle said, “But you’re still pants at Runes.”

Ginny grinned. “I guess I am,” she said.

“So…” Hermione asked, “We’re in this together?”

“Of course,” Ginny said.

Gabrielle nodded. Then, after a beat, she grinned at Hermione. “I’ve always liked a healthy
competition better than a bitter one anyway,” she said.
Hermione grinned right back. “Oh, I’m not going to be deluding myself Gabrielle,” she said, “But
for now, I’m on top of this little harem…”

“We’ll see, Hermione,” Gabrielle said, “In time, we shall see.”

Hermione stuck out her hand. Gabrielle walked up to the bed and shook it. Ginny laughed. And
for some strange reason, Gabrielle could not stop herself from smiling happily at how things had
turned out.

***

Harry barely made it through classes that day – he pored over Dumbledore’s book throughout the
day, even managing to sneak in a few pages during Charms class. He had bought a stack of
Pepper-ups at the local apothecary in Hogsmeade, and drowned one vial after another as he read
each page of the book at a feverish pace. He dimly realized that his friends… and girlfriends,
might be searching for him, but at that particular moment, he could not bring himself to care.

And that scared him. His higher thought processes were still intact, but he was losing sight of the
emotions he once cherished. Love, affection, compassion, humility – all of them were slowly
eroding away within him. It was not so much that he was letting go of them so much as it was the
fact that they were becoming muted.

Only last night, Hermione had asked him if he loved her. And the truth was, only a month ago, he
did. He did cherish the beautiful Head Girl – she had stuck with him through thick and thin, even
when Ron had abandoned him. She cared for him. But more than that, she stood for everything
that he believed was good – she was his center of morality. After his years of abuse at the hands of
the Dursleys, being friends with Hermione was what kept him centered about the concept of
moral goodness and evil. It could so easily have gone the other way had he fallen in with the
Malfoys. Granted, she did take the nobility thing too far sometimes – in the sense that she did not
want to believe the worst of people. And a lesser person would have turned after the horrors
Lestrange inflicted on her, but Hermione did not. She could be a little vengeful, a little insecure
and a little vexing at times, but for him, most of the time, she was always there. And when she had
asked him if he loved her… he should have said yes without a moment’s hesitation. Only a month
ago, he would have. And it was a testament to his love for her, that despite the muting effect of the
Elder Wand, he had felt an inkling of affection for her. He had said “yes” at the end, and he could
not even bring himself to feel guilt.

And then there was Ginny. When Hermione had told him his girlfriend had been watching at the
other end, Harry had been surprised… but all he felt was utter apathy. He had been sated, and that
was all he cared about. And he knew he had loved Ginny… he knew he still should have, but
even that was muted. The redhead was his – fierce, yet always at his side, faithful to the end.
Adapting to circumstances with him, flowing like water around his headstrong current.

And last, there was Gabrielle. He did feel something for her – but now, his feelings had been
reduced to mere lust. Each time he saw the veela, he wanted to ravish her, ruin her, push her up
against a wall and fuck her. And dipping into that side was just so… easy. So tempting.

All of that scared him – he now recognized exactly what the three girls stood for now. Hermione
was transcendence – something he yearned for and something that drew him… something beyond
this world of simple, binary good and evil.

The Resurrection Stone.

Ginny was loyalty made flesh, serving him to the end. Adapting, flowing, meshing into his life
seamlessly.
The Invisibility Cloak.

And Gabrielle was passion, lust, a thirst that must be quenched. Something that stoked his blood,
made it boil.

The Elder Wand.

He truly could not tell where the Hallows ended and he began. He was melding into them, turning
and twisting and reforming. He was being destroyed. Torn apart. Just like Dumbledore had told
him.

So Harry did the only thing he could – he avoided the girls and found an isolated corner of
Hogwarts, on the sixth floor in an abandoned classroom with a powerful Notice Me Not Charm
cast around him. He turned page after page, seeking answers and searching for a solution to his
dilemma.

But Aberforth had been right – there was nothing there. Dumbledore had barely even mentioned
the three hallows – possibly a good idea, as far as the Headmaster was concerned. All any
potential reader would see were research notes revolving around a mysterious subject that the
Headmaster did not see fit to disclose.

And there were copious notes on wandmaking processes – every single step that went into making
a wand, from different nations and cultures, was described and elaborated upon. Potions were
discussed, means of muting magic through charms and runes were debated and elaborate curses
were dissected, but after each possible solution, Dumbledore had written down a single word –
“Failed.”

For the first time, Harry truly saw evidence of prodigious intellect his former Headmaster had
possessed. The sheer amount of Arithmancy discussed in the book was far beyond Hermione, let
alone him. And as the diary went on, the notes grew more and more meandering – the last entry
was dated two days prior to Dumbledore’s death. Apparently, the old man had been taking
potions – powerful, highly advanced concoctions to keep the influence of the Elder Wand at bay.
But they were all marked with the same word – “Failed.”

By far the most interesting find was on the very last page of the book. It was a piece of an ancient
parchment stuck to the last page of the book – it had apparently been extremely hard to find.

“Alas,” Dumbledore had written on the penultimate page, “It is a pity my life draws to an end in a
world that still has such wonders to spare.”

For written on the parchment were a scant few words – in a language Harry vaguely recognized
as Gaelic, or perhaps Old English. Dumbledore had painstaking translated each and every word.
Apparently, according to his former Headmaster, it was the beginning of a letter. Below the
ancient parchment, Dumbledore had written in his loopy handwriting:

“Myrddin,

There remains no hope for our weapon. Antioch is lost to us. Cadmus has embraced death. It was
with a heavy heart that I take the last [unknown word]…”

And the letter ended there. According to Dumbledore, that had been all he could recover of the
ancient parchment – an alleged letter from Ignotus Peverell to Merlin himself. A truly remarkable
find, in Harry’s opinion.

Apparently, the parchment had been torn off just before the last unknown word had been
completed. According to Dumbledore, it could have stood for several terms – from “ingredient” to
“component” to “collection.”

Harry went back and forth through the book, re-reading passages and hoping to come upon
something…anything that could help him. He cast one revealing spell after another, hoping to try
and discern if Dumbledore had left him yet another ridiculous riddle. It opens at the close… or
something.

But there was nothing there. The book was just that – Dumbledore’s research on matters related to
control of the Elder Wand… and futile research at that.

Harry slammed the book shut and stormed towards his dormitory. A range of emotions flickered
through him – rage, frustration, annoyance… but he did not feel a shred of self-pity. And again,
that alarmed him.

He hit the bed as soon as he reached his dorm and the extended doses of Pepper Ups took their
toll as he fell into a deep slumber.

***

When he woke up the next morning, he thought for a moment that he had woken up too late and
had missed classes, but then he looked at the calendar hanging near Neville’s bed and realized it
was a Hogsmeade weekend. Everyone had long since gone to Hogsmeade – it was nearly mid-
day.

Harry slumped out of bed and blearily took a shower. He thought of going through the book
again, but that thought merely led to more frustration. So he eventually decided he would go to
Hogsmeade and join his classmates – he would try to take his mind off his problems and try to feel
something again.

And so, here he was, stomping around Hogsmeade and trying to find someone to spend the day
with.

After a few minutes of searching, he found Gabrielle and Ginny, loitering near a shop that sold
expensive robes.

And Harry grit his teeth as he felt again – only, it was a massive spike of bloodlust. The Hallows
were calling, and he had to answer.

Dimly, as his vision turned red, he registered that Gabrielle had spotted him and was walking
towards him with Ginny. She was a vision to behold – blonde hair shimmering in the daylight
over a set of tight, flowing robes that stretched across her curvaceous figure. Ginny looked even
more ravishing, her amazing bust begging to be kneaded and squeezed, bouncing with the wind.

And just as Gabrielle got within a few feet at him and opened her mouth to ask where he had
been, he stepped right into her personal space and grabbed her around the waist with one hand.
With the other, he held Ginny’s hand and pulled her in towards them. Then, there was a loud
crack as they disapparated in the middle of Hogsmeade.

***

He kissed Gabrielle, his tongue swirling around in the veela’s own mouth, licking circles around
her tongue and Gabrielle moaned into him. He dropped his left hand from around the veela’s
slender waist down to her ass, his fingers sinking into her rump.

“Harry… what?” Ginny gasped, trying to wriggle out of Harry’s right hand that was curved
around her waist, pressing her to the kissing couple, “Where are we?”

Harry started kneading Ginny’s amazing bubble butt as well and the redhead arched her back and
squealed.

“Harry!” Ginny squeaked, pushing against his right shoulder, her breasts working wonders against
the side of his chest that was not pressed into Gabrielle’s tits. He felt, rather than saw Ginny look
around – he was too busy kissing Gabrielle and making the blonde moan as he munched on the
veela’s tongue, now protruding right into his mouth. Loud slurping noises emanated from where
their lips were joined.

“Harry!” Ginny shrieked, this time with alarm, right in his ear, “Are we in… are we in Audrey’s
bedroom?!”

Harry smirked as Gabrielle’s tongue surrendered before his onslaught. He had apparated them to
Audrey’s bedroom – it was the nearest secluded spot he could remember in his lust-fuelled haze.
And Audrey came home late anyway… not that he cared if Percy’s fiancée walked in at that
particular moment. He needed this. Craved this. If Audrey walked in, he’d push her down and
fuck her too.

He grabbed Gabrielle’s hair and pulled her off his mouth. She stared up at him hungrily and he
smirked.

“Audrey’s not here,” Harry said smoothly to Ginny, “And her big, soft bed is all vacant and
empty. We’re going to fuck on top of it.”

Gabrielle giggled and Ginny blushed. Harry narrowed his eyes at Gabrielle and then smiled.

“Oh,” Harry said, finally turning to face his first proper girlfriend, “And Ginny, you’re going to be
in charge of Gabrielle this time around.”

For a moment, the two girls merely stared at him, open mouthed. “Really?” Ginny asked
breathlessly. Harry nodded.

Then Ginny smiled back at him mischievously. “So,” she asked, gesturing to the bed, “What are
we waiting for?”

The busty redhead pushed Gabrielle out of the way and hugged Harry, kissing him in a purposely
sloppy manner, slobbering all over his lips with her tongue. Harry pushed her clothed breasts up
as she leaned in and started kneading them – they felt massive and doughy, as usual and he loved
how his fingers just sank right in.

“Ginny!” Gabrielle whined.

Ginny pulled off Harry with a slurp and looked at Gabrielle with a playful smirk. “Didn’t you
hear him?” she asked, “I am in charge today.”

She pushed Harry’s chest lightly, prompting him to take a step back, which he did. She knelt and
then pulled his pants down along with his boxers, pooling them around his ankles. Harry raised
his legs one after the other stepping over his clothes. And as soon as his pants came off his knees,
his cock snapped out and sprang into position at a perfect ninety degrees to the vertical and Ginny
laughed at the sight.

“I never get tired of looking at that enormous fuckmeat,” Ginny remarked.

Then Ginny turned to look at Gabrielle, who was already stripping down in front of Harry and
was now in her bra and lingerie. “Such an eager veela slut,” Ginny said. She grabbed Gabrielle
and pulled the blonde down to her knees before she could start working her bra off. Ginny curled
her left palm around Harry’s enormous head; with her right, she pushed Gabrielle by the back of
her head right onto Harry’s fat crown. The veela opened her mouth almost on instinct and Harry’s
cockhead popped into her wet mouth. Ginny moved her hand down Harry’s cock in sync with
Gabrielle’s head and Harry moaned at the combined feeling of wetness and pressure. Eventually,
when Gabrielle was around a quarter of the way down his cock, she began to gag, quite violently.

“She acts so superior!” Ginny crowed, “But look at the veela now! Choking on that big fat cock!”

Gabrielle moved her head from side to side, rippling the cockmeat in her mouth, trying to tear her
mouth open so that she could take in more of Harry’s cock. It felt amazing to Harry – the top
quarter of his cock was buried in this hot, wet space while Gabrielle’s tongue lashed around the
bottom, even as Ginny beat off the lower three-quarters with her left hand. Tears streamed out of
Gabrielle’s pretty blue eyes as she choked around his man-meat. Eventually, she tried to pull off,
but Ginny’s hand held her in place.

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMNNNNNN!” Gabrielle screamed, sending heavenly vibrations

around Harry’s rod and Ginny laughed.

“Had enough?” Ginny asked, as she let go. Gabrielle withdrew with a gasp, Harry’s cock popping
out of her mouth – there was a web of saliva connecting his cock to Gabrielle’s panting mouth.

“Merde,” Gabrielle gasped, but Ginny bunched up Gabrielle’s hair into a make-shift pony tail and
slammed her down on Harry’s cock again.

“Yes,” Harry hissed as he felt his cock sink down that amazing tight, spit-soaked cavern again.
Gabrielle’s pretty blue eyes looked straight up into his own with… adoration. Mixed with awe.

Ginny started working Gabrielle up and down Harry’s cock, her tight mouth working wonders
across the part of his shaft she could engulf. Ginny took her left palm off Harry’s cock and started
slapping Gabrielle’s bra-clad tits with loud thwacks.

Ginny was actually using the veela now to pleasure their mutual boyfriend like a sex toy –
Gabrielle desperately tried to deep-throat Harry as her tits jiggled all over the place thanks to
Ginny’s incessant slapping. Gabrielle was actually making loud “glugglugglug” sounds around
his cock now, lathering it with spit.

Ginny suddenly let go of Gabrielle and stood up to kiss Harry. She closed her hand around his
shaft and squeezed it, even as Gabrielle slurped around the head of his cock. Their tongues
entwined and Harry plundered Ginny’s mouth, licking around her inner cheeks. Eventually,
Ginny drew off with a gasp. She sat on Audrey’s bed and beckoned to Harry. Harry sidestepped
towards the bed, dragging Gabrielle along with him, her mouth still tasting and slobbering over
his cock. The half-veela waddled on her knees desperately to keep up while not letting go of the
cock in her mouth. And then Harry slowly began to turn in place so that Gabrielle was forced to
shuffle clockwise as well on her knees. Eventually, they came to a stop with Harry facing Ginny,
who was seated on the bed, with Gabrielle between them, on her knees on the carpeted floor as
she stuffed Harry’s cock into her mouth.

Ginny leaned forward, snaking her arms under Gabrielle’s armpits as the veela continued her
sloppy blowjob. Once Ginny had Gabrielle in a full Nelson, she slowly leaned back on the bed
and loosened her grip until she had Gabrielle’s wrists locked behind the blonde girl. Harry thought
it was incredibly erotic – Gabrielle was blowing his pole even as her hands were stretched and
locked behind her.
But Ginny wasn’t done. With a sudden movement, she pulled at Gabrielle’s arms while
simultaneously lifting her feet off the ground as she sat back on the bed. Ginny slapped one foot
down on Gabrielle’s back and the other on Gabrielle’s head. Gabrielle’s arms were now stretched
out behind her as Ginny pushed the veela down with her feet. Gabrielle screamed around Harry’s
pole as all of her control was taken from her in one go.

“YES!” Ginny yelled, “I haven’t forgiven you for what you said before, little slut. You wanted
first place, eh? And Hermione in second place! And me… you forgot about me!”

“MMMMMMFFFFNNNNNN!” Gabrielle screamed as Ginny pumped her feet back and forth,
never allowing Gabrielle any respite as she pushed her down further on Harry’s cock at each
downstroke.

“Little bitch!” Ginny screamed, “Getting your comeuppance now! How does first place feel,
Gabby?”

Harry grinned. He liked this part of Ginny – when she became possessive. He loved it when the
redhead became primal. Ginny grinned right back at him.

“You love that, Harry? You love the feeling of this French slut crying on your big cock?” Ginny
asked hotly, pushing Gabrielle down on his cock with her feet.

“Sure do,” he said. Ginny laughed and kicked out even more, forcing Gabrielle to gag on his
penis.

Gabrielle was squealing and shrieking now, impaled on his cock as she was – muffled screams
that echoed around Audrey’s bedroom.

“Not as submissive as you thought, am I, Mistress Gabby?” Ginny taunted, saying the word
“Mistress” with a mocking lilt.

Harry groaned as Gabrielle’s throat started convulsing, heavingalong his shaft – walls of wetness
closed and constricted around his sensitive skin and he loved the feeling.

Ginny then let go of Gabrielle’s hands and relaxed, sitting back atop the bed with a smirk on her
face as Gabrielle frantically snapped her hands forward and pushed off Harry’s cock yet again,
panting and huffing. Ginny pulled off her robes and underclothes, and sat naked on the bed, even
as Gabrielle continued to huff in front of her, holding onto Harry’s thighs to keep herself upright.

“It’s not over yet, bitch,” the redhead said harshly as she grabbed around Gabrielle by her tits and
pulled at her nipples. The veela shrieked and Ginny lifted her up with immense effort. Gabrielle
was pulled to her feet and then onto the bed on Ginny’s lap. Ginny pulled them both back, so that
Gabrielle’s back lay on top of her own tits as Ginny lay on the bed. Ginny then coiled her legs
around Gabrielle, pushing her knees over Gabrielle’s and twisting her shins around Gabrielle’s
own legs, using her ankles to lock Gabrielle’s legs to her own. Simultaneously, she held Gabrielle
in a chokehold with her arms, one arm around Gabrielle’s neck and the other on top of her head.

Ginny then spread her legs, pulling Gabrielle’s own legs apart in the process. Harry tore
Gabrielle’s panties off effortlessly and admired the view. Gabrielle’s jutting ass now lay flattened
against Ginny’s midriff and both of their twats glistened up at him, one above the other. Ginny’s
flaps were soaked in arousal already – Harry grinned at the sight. Ginny always did gush like a
fountain. Her clit was completely erect and peeking out in between her folds. Gabrielle, on the
other hand, had plump lips that seemed to be sealed tightly, but the truly remarkable feature was
her unique veela stamen – it really did look like an enormous clit to Harry’s eyes. Tubular and
throbbing erotically, pulsing in tune with her heartbeat.
Harry pushed his cockhead against Gabrielle’s lips, prying them apart with his enormous
mushroom head, his girth crushing her veela clit. The Frenchwoman gasped and her eyes glazed.
Ginny’s face, which was right next to Gabrielle’s, was looking up at him and grinning at
Gabrielle’s plight.

Harry winked at Ginny, then abruptly took his cock off Gabrielle’s plump twat and speared it right
between Ginny’s folds, plunging into the redhead in one stroke. Ginny’s velvet walls – tight as
ever – parted with ease because of how incredibly wet she was and slickly enveloped Harry’s
shaft with a loving caress. Ginny screamed right in Gabrielle’s ear and the veela cringed. But the
Frenchwoman could not move – Ginny’s grip tightened around her as Harry started slamming in
and out of the redhead, her folds making an incredibly dirty sound as they dragged back and forth
around Harry’s spit-soaked cock.

“HAAAAAARRRRRYYYYYY!” Ginny screamed as both she and Gabrielle started bouncing

back and forth on the bed, “A warning next time! OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!”

Harry just grinned as he felt his first girlfriend’s pussy start convulsing around his cock, walls
contracting and expanding in rhythm with his thrusts, even as his head breached her cervix and
popped out of her womb with each stroke back and forth. His balls slapped onto her ass, which
was flattened onto the bed.

Ginny’s screams and yells rose in pitch as Harry started increasing his pace, and Harry started
brutalizing his girlfriend’s pussy – he loved doing this. Ginny was a real firecracker in bed and he
had missed this.

And then, there was a squelch sound, just like with Hermione a few nights back and Ginny
squirted – she was by far the most amazing squirter he knew, apart from Molly. Streams of pussy
juice gushed out of her vagina and sprayed both Gabrielle’s cunt above her, as well as Harry’s
chest and abdomen – the girl could really shoot. And Harry just surged through Ginny’s violent
orgasm, fucking in and out of her like a jackhammer as vile noises echoed in Audrey’s bedroom –
of gushing and squirting, fucking and pounding, the wet slap-slap-slap of naked flesh and the
screams and moans of the girls he was fucking.

Harry abruptly pulled out of Ginny’s pussy, her flaps clinging wetly to him as he popped out.
Harry then stuffed his cock between Gabrielle’s lower lips, his head bursting into her vagina with
a loud schlicking noise. Ginny’s quim continued to convulse and spray his balls with her juices.
Gabrielle’s love canal was incredibly tight, but parted with ease before his pole, as he slid home
into her, his stomach clapping against her waist, even as his balls slapped into Ginny’s clit,
making the redhead scream again as she kept cumming.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Gabrielle yelled in an open-throated scream as Harry started spearing

into the veela now, pounding in and out of her wet cunt like a piston. Gabrielle’s twat seemed to
be drooling all over his cock, gushing out juices at an incredible rate, convulsing and spasming
around his fat rod.

“OUI OUI OUI!” Gabrielle kept screaming with each savage thrust into her twat and eventually,
she started orgasming, at which Harry pulled straight out and plunged into Ginny again.

“Double… dipping… are we?” Ginny asked hotly, panting as his cock snuggled in and out of her
heaving pussy, “Loosening our cunts with your enormous fuckmeat? HUH! HUH
OOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Ginny seemed to lose all coherence as her orgasm – that had been winding down – revved up
again and more juices gushed out sloshing pussy, her lips bulging outward obscenely, ruined by
Harry’s cock.
Harry continued in this vein, extending each girl’s orgasm just as it petered out, spearing into their
cunts turn by turn. He loved how Gabrielle’s cunt coiled around his cock with an incredible grip
that just seemed to give way when he moved, and how Ginny’s walls stayed flush on his cock and
allowed him to move only because of how incredibly wet the redhead could get. And the bedroom
echoed with Ginny’s “OHHHHH” and Gabrielle’s “AHHHHHHH”. Ginny was actually licking
the side of Gabrielle’s face now with a wild, frenzied lust, even as her pussy gushed out gallons of
cunt-juice onto Audrey’s sheets.

“Enough,” Harry said at last, pulling free of Gabrielle’s cunt, which was soaked in both her juices
and Ginny’s squirt.

He tore Gabrielle off Ginny and shoved the blonde to the side. The person he wanted now was
Ginny. Ginny just looked up at him with glazed eyes, her cunt literally throbbing as it gaped open
after her thorough fucking.

“Harry…” Ginny panted, “Oh… fuck…”

And he abruptly turned her over onto her stomach so that her amazing bubble butt lay invitingly
over the bed. Enormous, smooth mountains of flesh with nary a wrinkle on them. Harry mauled
her cheeks with large palms and Ginny squealed. He prised them apart, and slapped them back
together, watching them ripple and bounce with delight. Harry shoved two fingers into Ginny’s
vagina, thoroughly soaking them with the redhead’s cunt-juices. He then brought his fingers to
bear right between Ginny’s butt-cheeks, teasing the edges of her rosebud.

Ginny gasped. “Harry… I…”

“Not a word,” Harry said coldly and pushed against Ginny’s asshole. It throbbed against his
fingers and widened in a maddeningly slow manner. He then waddled forward on the bed and
slapped his cock down on Ginny’s left ass cheek. He beckoned to Gabrielle, who dragged herself
forward on the bed and lay her head on Ginny’s back as she suckled his cockhead, slobbering
over it again.

“Yes,” Ginny gasped, “Get Harry’s cock wet for my… OOOOOH!”

Harry plunged his fingers into Ginny’s asshole as her first ring of muscle parted and her rosebud
accepted his insistent invasion. Harry shook his fingers around her asshole, and chuckled as her
bum bounced all over the place in a delicious manner.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, “Your ass is enormous.”

Just like your mother’s, he thought.

More rings of muscle loosened up as Harry’s fingers sank knuckle deep into Ginny’s ass, even as
Gabrielle sucked and slurped noisily on his cock. Gabrielle’s wet tongue ran back and forth across
the sides of his penis as she worked her mouth all over his shaft, occasionally reaching out to lick
Ginny’s back and arse. Through it all, Harry kept working his index and middle fingers in and out
of Ginny’s ass, making sure it was loosening up. He flexed his magic and one of the large
cushions at the head of the bed jumped into his hand. He lifted Ginny’s wide ass into the air,
circling her hips with his left hand while digging into her butthole with his right and placed the
cushion beneath her tummy. He then summoned the remaining cushions and stuffed them between
Ginny and the bed so that Ginny now lay on the bed with her ass in the air, supported by the
cushions.

Gabrielle, never taking her lips off Harry’s cock, circled around Ginny so that she was now right
beside Harry, only bent over with her lips on the base of his enormous shaft, licking all over the
top of his cock. “Gabby,” Harry said, “Lick her now.”

Gabrielle looked up at him for an instant, then moved. She lifted Harry’s cock off Ginny’s ass and
slid right under it. Harry casually mussed up Gabrielle’s hair with his cock as the veela gave
Ginny a noisy rimjob.

“That feels so dirty,” Ginny moaned, “She’s actually… oh fuck… her tongue… fuck!”

Gabrielle actually shifted over Ginny with her legs on either side of the busty girl’s head as she
tongued Ginny’s puckered anus. The veela was now upside down over Ginny’s back, with her
knees around Ginny’s head on the bed; Gabrielle was actually bending over Ginny to delve into
her dumper. Harry chuckled softly as he saw Gabrielle’s head burrowing between Ginny’s ass
cheeks, slurping noisily at the redhead’s rosebud.

“Ooh,” Ginny moaned, “She’s licking around my asshole, Harry. The dirty little slut.”

Harry seized Gabrielle’s hair and snapped her head up, her neck arching backwards. Her mouth
was wide open and her tongue was lolling out; Harry plunged his cock right into her trap.
Gabrielle gave a muffled squeal and then gagged as Harry hit the entrance of her throat.
Simultaneously, Harry pushed his fingers down into Ginny’s asshole. Harry slammed back and
forth into Gabrielle’s mouth a few times, before he withdrew and pushed the veela down again,
back into Ginny’s ass, withdrawing his fingers once more.

Gabrielle’s hands were actually digging into Ginny’s soft flesh now, prying those amazing cheeks
apart as she dug into Ginny’s ass with her tongue.

Ginny laughed. “This is… ooh… why I love Harry,” she said, addressing Gabrielle, “He just…
oh, that’s amazing… One word is enough to make me the top and you the bottom.”

Gabrielle slapped her hands down on Ginny’s cheeks as she continued to slurp and lick away
inside Ginny’s ass.

“And no amount of spanking is going to change that, Gabby,” Ginny said happily, “Not until he
says otherwise.”

Harry lifted Gabrielle’s head up and plunged his shaft down her throat again – his cock was now
drenched with spit and girl-cum – even as he plunged his fingers back into Ginny. He held
Gabrielle in place as she choked and then withdrew abruptly. Gabrielle went down on Ginny’s ass
again.

Harry continued in this vein for a while, using Gabrielle’s mouth as a cock-sleeve for a bit while
fingering Ginny’s ass and then letting Gabrielle continue her amazing rimjob. Eventually, he felt
Ginny was as ready as she could be. He snapped Gabrielle’s head up and pushed his cockhead
between Ginny’s pillowy cheeks.

“That’s… not Gabrielle’s tongue,” Ginny panted, “Not your fingers either.”

“No,” Harry said, amused.

“Oh, fuck,” Ginny gasped as Harry pushed at her asshole – the rim expanding around his cock as
he stuffed his crown in.

“Merde,” Gabrielle gasped. She was perched right on Ginny’s ass and had full view of Harry’s
enormous man-meat slowly squeezing into Ginny’s anus. “He’s digging into your ass, Ginny. It’s
stretching around his fat penis.”
“Ooooooh,” Ginny groaned. Harry’s crown sank into her ass, her bubbly cheeks hugging his cock
in a manner he thought should be considered illegal.

“It feels amazing,” Harry muttered in awe. This was, by far, the tightest hole he had ever been in –
the lubrication was doing wonders for him, and yet, the way Ginny’s ass pressed down and
spread around his cock like butter was wonderful.

It was incredibly slow going though – in Harry’s estimation, it took much longer to burrow into
Ginny’s ass than the first time he had sex with Hermione.

“He’s stuffing your ass!” Gabrielle squealed as a quarter of Harry’s cock eventually jammed and
stowed its way into Ginny’s bubble butt. Harry dug his fingers into the redhead’s buns and pulled
them apart as he sank further and further in.

“So… full,” Ginny gasped.

Gabrielle reached a hand down, between her and Ginny and started rubbing her own pussy
furiously at the sight of Harry’s spearing Ginny’s tightest hole.

Millimeter by millimeter, with incredible patience, Harry sank into what he thought was heaven.
After what seemed like hours of tortuous pleasure, his abdomen finally met Ginny’s ass and
crushed it as his cock lay fully buried inside the redhead’s incredible moon-shaped ass. Harry just
held his cock in Ginny’s crushing depths, reveling in the sensation.

“Morgana,” Ginny gasped, “I’ve been impaled on a broomstick.”

Harry started making slow, small thrusts in and out of Ginny’s ass, wishing this amazing sensation
– her arse just seemed so soft, yet so warm and tight around his fat cock - would never end. He
scraped and heaved into her bum, his slick shaft sending soft waves across her cushy arse. And
slowly, he started speeding up his pace. Ginny squealed and writhed underneath him, making it
even more pleasurable for him as he ground into her bum.

Gabrielle was fingering her own cunt quite furiously now, so much so that Harry could actually
hear the shlicking sound she was making.

“Oui”, the blonde gasped, “Pound that ass. Pound it to mush.”

Harry pulled out of Ginny’s ass more savagely, feeling it constrict around his cock and then
slammed home, his balls slapping onto her cunt. Ginny screamed into the bed. And Harry
repeated the motion, thrusting violently in and out of her considerably loosened anus, probing and
fucking into it. Harry dug his fingers deeper into her fleshy bum cheeks and Gabrielle actually bit
into Ginny’s rippling assmeat as she abused her own twat.

Ginny’s bubble butt was actually jiggling as if it was made of jelly with each slap of his abdomen
into her waggling ass and the redhead was wailing into the bed as Harry jackhammered in and
out, turning her inside out, distending her asshole with each upstroke, withdrawing nearly half his
penis out of her rosebud, and stuffing it back in on each downstroke. Eventually, he slipped his
cock right out of Ginny’s asshole, watching it pull out of her rosebud with pleasure. He then
snapped Gabrielle’s head back up and stowed his cock into her mouth again, making her choke
and drool all over it.

“You like the taste of Ginny’s ass on my cock, Gabby?” he taunted.

He then pulled out of Gabrielle’s throat, yet again, and made Gabrielle go down on Ginny’s
starfish.
“Merde,” the veela gasped, “Her ass is wide open!”

Harry looked down and chuckled. Ginny’s asshole seemed to be frozen in a perpetual O-shape –
almost gaping up at him. He could literally see her anal passage, undulating and pink, convulsing
on empty space.

Ginny just moaned into the bed. Gabrielle’s head then covered her ass as the veela delved in yet
again with a noisy slurp. Gabrielle raised her head after a few seconds of licking Ginny’s ass.

“I can taste your cock on it,” Gabrielle gasped, “I can actually taste around her ass!”

And then Gabrielle’s head disappeared between Ginny’s cheeks again as she renewed her rimjob
on the redhead. Harry allowed Gabrielle to lick away for a few minutes before he snapped her
head up and forced his cock in again, making her gag. He then pulled out, and pushed his shaft
back into Ginny’s incredibly tight arse. This time, though, he allowed Ginny no respite and just
jammed his cock in, renewing his savage pounding of her arse.

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!” Ginny screamed as his

balls smashed into her clit again and she spasmed, even as her pussy exploded into a shower of
juices, splattering his testicles.

“I’M CUMMING FROM MY ASS!” she screamed stupidly and Harry chuckled.

“She goes off like a fountain each time,” Gabrielle observed as she started grinding her quim on
her fingers yet again.

“That she does,” Harry concurred, never pausing in his determined pulverizing of Ginny’s ass.
Her pussy continued to splatter tremendous amounts of juices all over his cock and balls, even as
he continued to bugger the redhead.

Gabrielle slid off Ginny and with a tentative glance in Harry’s direction, she sat right in front of
the wailing, orgasming redhead with her legs wide open, her puffy, abused cunt open for all to
see. Harry shrugged at her even as he continued to pump into Ginny’s ass. Gabrielle smiled, lifted
Ginny’s head up off the bed – Ginny’s muffled wails turned to open screams, before they were
muffled again as Gabrielle shoved the redhead’s face into her cunt.

“Make her moan,” Gabrielle gasped, “Please. Make her scream into my cunt. The vibrations are
heavenly.”

Harry grinned at Gabrielle and jumped onto his legs, squatting over Ginny in a powerful stance.
He then started smashing at an even greater pace than before, his cum-filled, heavy balls now
bruising Ginny’s cunt as he thrashed into her tight ass. Ginny’s ass was now a blur, wobbling all
over the place, even as he gripped her waist in an iron grip so that she wouldn’t push forward with
each thrust. Gabrielle groaned as Ginny’s scream reached its highest pitch yet, muffled though it
was by the half-veela’s twat.

“Smell my cunt, putain!” Gabrielle shrieked as she pulled Ginny’s face further into her twat,
“Scream into my chatte!”

Ginny kept squirting out fluid and her hands were now tearing the sheets apart. And Harry felt his
balls tingling and pulsing as he squished in and out of Ginny’s ass now – he was close to the edge.

All of a sudden, Gabrielle spasmed as she had yet another orgasm. The veela smashed her thighs
around Ginny’s face as she screamed to the heavens. And the entire sight – Ginny sandwiched by
Gabrielle’s thighs as she screamed into the blonde’s cunt, Gabrielle’s beautiful face contorted in
the grips of pleasure, Ginny’s ass rippling as his cock knifed in and out of her amazing butt…
Harry felt his balls pulse as he smashed into Ginny’s ass, burying deep inside with his balls flush
against her convulsing pussy.

Ginny actually slapped her hands onto Gabrielle’s thighs as Harry’s cock expanded and pulsed
deep inside her abused ass. Harry grunted and his cock recoiled, shooting stream after stream of
his seed into Ginny’s gaping hole. Harry mauled her ass for all it was worth as his extended high
went on and on, discharging one thick vat of gooey cum into her ass after another.

And eventually, he drew out his cock out of her cum-filled asshole and slapped it down on top of
her ass, laughing as he watched his own semen spill out and run in streams across her sweat-
drenched, massive cheeks. Gabrielle seemed to have come down from her own orgasm and was
watching his semen spill forth with wide eyes, as if she was making up her mind about something.

Suddenly, the veela leapt forward and dove into Ginny’s ass, tasting his sperm right out of her
bum and Harry laughed at the sight. Harry waddled around the bed and laid on his side right
beside Ginny – the redhead seemed to be moaning and panting on the bed, her eyes completely
glazed in the afterglow of a thorough fucking.

“So…” Harry said, by way of conversation.

Ginny just moaned and drooled in stupefaction on the bed, and Gabrielle seemed to busy slurping
away at her asshole. It was a comical sight – yet so erotic; Ginny was lying on the bed with her
ass high in the air, and Gabrielle was buried between the redhead’s butt cheeks, licking away
noisily at the cum sloshing around inside Ginny’s ass.

Harry just sighed and relaxed, meditating on his own troubles now that he had been sated
temporarily.

***

“We’re so… lucky Audrey didn’t catch us all in her bedroom,” Ginny said wearily as Harry half-
carried her back to Hogwarts with his hand around her waist.

Gabrielle laughed. “What I’m really intrigued by is why Harry knew of her bedroom in the first
place.”

Ginny looked at Harry with a sly smile. “She… and you…” Ginny said suggestively.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered.

Ginny sighed. “Don’t worry Harry, I’m not… intimidated. Not anymore.”

Harry looked at her curiously, then looked at Gabrielle, who looked quite happy.

“You girls seem… abnormally cheerful,” he said.

“We’re always glad after a bout of sex, love,” Ginny said. After a moment, both she and Gabrielle
broke out into a giggling fit.

“Not what I meant,” Harry said in a flat voice, “I meant… I’d have thought you two would be
mad at the stunt Hermione pulled.”

“Do you regret it?” Gabrielle asked him.

Harry shook his head. “Not for a moment,” he said.

Gabrielle smirked. “Yeah, thought so,” she said.

“Hermione got us all together in her room,” Ginny said quietly, “She told us… that we should all
get along rather than… you know…”

“Being catty,” Harry finished.

“I do not get catty,” Ginny sniffed, but her face softened as Harry chuckled.

“So, that’s it?” he asked curiously, “She just delivered a monologue… and you guys were
satisfied?”

“I’m still a little mad at her,” Ginny said, “But that’s what adults do, Harry. They talk things
over.” She giggled again.

“Uh-huh,” Harry said in an amused voice.

“She was right though,” Gabrielle said, clutching the arm on his other side and walking alongside
him, “At the end of the day, you have not been particularly partial to any of us. So… what were
we fighting for anyway?”

“Not that Gabby will ever be able to suppress her competitive instinct,” Ginny said. Gabrielle
stuck her tongue out across Harry at the redhead.

“But,” Gabrielle said firmly, “I do like Hermione. She’s got a great head on her shoulders.”

“That she does,” Harry said fondly.

“Like I said,” Gabrielle continued, “She’s right. At the end of the day, I think there’s a part of you
that is attracted to each of us – and that’s… enough.

“And as long as we stay united… and do not clash, we can make this work. On the other hand, if
we keep up with the in-fighting, we’ll all lose you. That’s the gist of what Hermione said,
anyway.”

Harry squirmed a bit at that, but he merely nodded. Gabrielle was hitting a bit too close to the truth
for comfort – Harry had thought the same thing about the Deathly Hallows.

And just like that, all of his worries came crashing back down like he had been drenched in cold
water. The hallows, his quest to control them, Dumbledore’s frustrating, meandering notes… he
felt slightly miserable for trying to distract himself now.

Eventually, with Harry’s knowledge of Hogwarts’ secret corridors, they reached the Gryffindor
dorms without being caught – they had long since passed curfew. He let Gabrielle support Ginny
back to the girls’ dorm. He, on the other hand, wished them goodnight and headed straight for the
showers. He needed to get back to his studies.

***

His muscles relaxed as a stream of warm water poured over his body, soothing and caressing him.
He leaned against the wall and just breathed, trying to sort his thoughts out. And even so, he knew
the Hallows were all influencing him now – he recognized the bloodlust he was feeling, and the
sense of impending doom. The voices and whispers in his head were back with a vengeance – the
sex obviously was not working any more as a stalling mechanism.

Everything he had learned, everything he had gathered – he parsed it all through his head. It
reminded him of his first two years at Hogwarts – those years had been filled mysteries that had to
be unraveled with care and attention to detail. All the pieces he could gather were there for the
taking, but the pieces were so discrete and unconnected that he had trouble making an association
amongst them.

At the very least, on the domestic front, he wasn’t having any troubles. He supposed he was in a
genuine polyamorous relationship right now – with Hermione, Gabrielle and Ginny. It was
comforting to know that three of the most talented and affectionate witches he knew were
genuinely attracted to him. At the same time, he felt like he was on a helpless ride – how could he
even tell where his feelings ended and where the Hallows began?

“As long as we stay united… and do not clash, we can make this work.”

Harry pondered that statement for a moment. Gabrielle had obviously been talking about the
relationship, but Harry had thought that was the solution to the problem of the Hallows as well – if
he united them, under his ownership, he could make them work for him. But Dumbledore had
been right – the Hallows did not cancel each other out, they merely superimposed upon each
other, tearing his mind apart with divergent feelings.

And then there was the mysterious letter in Dumbledore’s diary – apparently from Ignotus
Peverell to Merlin himself. Ignotus had been making a weapon for Merlin… no, he had said “our
weapon”. It meant that Ignotus had been manufacturing a… weapon with someone else, most
likely with his brothers.

It had struck Harry that the weapon that Ignotus had referred to could be the Elder Wand… so
what? But if Ignotus said there was no “hope” for the Elder Wand – what did he mean? Did he
mean that the fearsome control that the Elder Wand exercised over its owners rendered it useless?
And were all three Peverell brothers involved in its construction?

Harry sighed. Dumbledore had been right all along – it was a vain quest to control the Elder Wand
if even the wisest of the Peverell brothers had deemed it hopeless.

“The Elder Wand is an anomaly, Harry,” Dumbledore’s portrait had said, “A blight on the world.
A tear in the fabric of reality – it should not exist. It is monstrously empty – incomplete, filled with
neither good nor bad. Utterly hollow. It should not be used. It can never be controlled.”

“Damn it,” Harry swore and then sighed. He looked up at the wall he was leaning against, the
light buzz of water droplets across his skin no longer a soothing touch so much as an annoying
hum. “I’m doomed.”

He closed his eyes and cursed Xenophilius for ever peeking inside Dumbledore’s tomb. If Xeno
had not peeked, perhaps Harry would not have retrieved the wand. That stupid editor and that
stupid locket... Harry closed his eyes in frustration.

Images danced across his vision. A triangle enclosing a circle and a line. They danced across the
darkness, mocking him and teasing him. And then they all melded together into a red blur that
caused Harry to grit his teeth. Unity. Such a lie.

And then it struck him. Harry reeled and clutched onto the wall for support as every fiber of his
being was suffused with a sudden lightness.

He had stumbled upon the solution.

It was so simple. Unity was the answer. It had been staring him in the face all along. It had been
staring Dumbledore in the face all along.
Harry turned off the shower, toweled himself off hurriedly, put on his bathrobe and charged into
his dorm.

“Eureka.”

***

Sometime in March, Quidditch Stadium

Harry stood tall, back straight and wand held high, facing Gabrielle Delacour in the final match of
the Contest of Wands. The stadium was filled with a thousand spectators – both human and non-
human. Cheers and applause rang in his ears.

“Bow,” the arbiter said and they both bowed to each other. The crowd roared in approval.

“BEGIN!”

And they sprang into action.

***

Mid-January, in an abandoned classroom

Harry feverishly flipped through Dumbledore’s diary and finally landed upon the page he wanted.
On that page, Dumbledore had described his thoughts on the final step of the wand-making
process. It seemed so obvious in retrospect that Harry was kicking himself for missing it entirely.
The devil truly was in the details. The diary said:

“The last step of making a wand – often the easiest step in terms of the intense rituals that
accompany wand-making – is still difficult, but not in terms of actual procedure. However, it does
take a modicum of clever association to land the finishing touches upon a wand. In simple terms,
it involves an additional ingredient that is associated with the ‘theme’ of the wand core as well as
the presence of a rune connecting the two.

“For instance, let us consider a wand that uses phoenix feathers as a core. Generally speaking,
phoenixes represent the ‘flame’ of life. As such, a wandmaker might invoke the rune for ‘life’ as
well as the rune for ‘fire’ – this would involve activating the runes with the incomplete wand.
However, as mentioned above, it would also require an additional ingredient associated with the
‘flame of life’ theme. Garrick once confided in me that he prefers using a portion of a Gubraithian
Fire – he travels to Italy once every year for a portion of the everlasting flame that so few wizards
can conjure. It is a clever association on Garrick’s part – the Gubraithian Fire never dies, and as
such, it would be a fantastic representation of the ‘spirit’ of an undying phoenix.

“Similarly, unicorns would represent purity – nobility of spirit. The rune for ‘purity’ would make
for perfect invocation, in addition to the rune for ‘spirit’ or the ‘soul’. However, Garrick claims
that he still has not found the perfect ingredient to associate with the ‘theme’ – hence, his unicorn
core wands frequently require repair or replacement. He uses a bezoar – it does purify the body
of most poisons and staves off ill health – as an additional ingredient.”

Harry laughed.

The Peverell Brothers had all been wand-makers – the weapon they had been making was the
Elder Wand. And Dumbledore had said it himself, by way of his portrait – that the Elder wand
was “incomplete, filled with neither good nor bad.” Only, Dumbledore himself had not realized
the weight of his own words.
The Elder Wand was perhaps the most powerful wand known to man – but it truly was
incomplete. That was why it was so whimsical about its ownership. Because it had no connection
to its theme, which stabilized its being. The Peverell brothers had been stymied before they could
carry out the last step – someone had slit Antioch Peverell’s throat and carried the wand away, just
like in the fairy tale. The remaining brothers had tried to flee with the ingredients they were to use
in the last step, but the Resurrection Stone had then been lost. Only Ignotus survived, with the
Cloak.

Only, the stone and the cloak were never meant to be standalone artefacts – that’s why the legend
of the three Hallows endured; they were never meant to be used alone. His cloak was never meant
to be an invisibility cloak – it looked nothing like a cloak in the first place. The invisibility had
only been a side effect. It had been made by Ignotus for use in the final step of forging the Elder
Wand.

Only, the Elder Wand was so powerful it required two additional ingredients. Hence, Cadmus’
stone.

Harry laid the cloak and the stone on the table in the middle of the classroom with trembling
hands. He pushed them aside so that they lay along the edge of the table, leaving space in the
middle.

He then carved the rune for ‘enemy’ onto the table in front of him in Elder Futhark, with a bit of
help from an Ancient Runes book he had borrowed from the library.

The Elder Wand. An instrument for vanquishing your enemies.

He then carved the rune for ‘death’.

The Stone. A tool capable of peering beyond the veil of death itself.

And finally, the rune for ‘conquest’. The book of runes said it also stood for ‘destruction.’

The Cloak. A means of conquering death itself.

He touched his wand to the runes, invoking his magic and binding it with the runes. The runes
glowed in the dim light of the classroom. Enemy, destruction and death. Together, they invoked
the theme of the Deathstick:

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.”

It was not just a meaningless, throwaway quote after all. It was a message – passed on by Ignotus
Peverell. The theme for the last step in the creation of the Elder Wand; he had anticipated that
someday, someone would figure it out.

***

March, Quidditch Stadium

The crowd roared as Gabrielle went on the offensive straightaway, throwing balls of fire right at
Harry. He smiled and waved his wand. A burst of wind rippled out, extinguishing the balls of fire
with ease.

Gabrielle transformed and took to the air – tremendous fiery bursts started raging forth at Harry.
At least a dozen balls of fire blazed down upon him.

Harry held his wand aloft with his right hand and closed his left fist. Magic rippled around him
and a dozen wisps of utter blackness burst forth from his wand, meeting the balls of fire in mid-air.
He opened his left palm and the fires imploded, withdrawing ineffectually. Gabrielle gave a
screech of frustration and zipped through the air to avoid Harry’s counter attack – his spells
ricocheted past her.

She sent down more balls of fire, but Harry just grinned and raised his hands, calling upon his
magic. A tremendous plume of fire burst forth, forming a giant claw that whooshed into the air.
Gabrielle’s miniscule fireballs splashed uselessly against the fiery claw as it burst through the air,
zooming straight for her. Harry made a grabbing motion with his hand and the giant claw of fire
reflected his actions, grabbing at Gabrielle.

The half-veela gave a frightened screech and her wings flapped frantically as she dove under the
fire and swooped at Harry like a bird of prey. It was an act of desperation, she hoped to end the
duel before she was overwhelmed, depending on her superior reflexes to avoid Harry’s powerful
magic and her superior strength to physically tear Harry’s wand from him so that she could end
the duel quickly.

Harry just grinned as his fiery conjuration vanished, only to reveal the fearsome avian form
bearing down upon him with outstretched talons.

***

January, abandoned classroom

Harry touched his wand to the cloak and concentrated on the runes. His wand started vibrating
and Harry grit his teeth, holding it in place. The rune for conquest glowed brighter than the other
two runes and the cloak melted before his very eyes and moved, like a lethifold, right into the
wand. A rushing sound echoed in his ears as the cloak simply flowed it his wand. The bloodlust
dimmed and the pounding in his ears lowered to a whisper.

He then tensed his muscles and held his wand with both hands, trying to control it as lightning
burst forth from the tip, searing the walls. Benches floated into the air and began swirling around
him, blown by cold, turbulent currents of air. The wind blew right against him and Harry roared as
he brought the wand around with tremendous effort and touched it to the stone.

The rune for death blazed and the stone turned to dust. The dust rose into the air and then
glimmered in the darkness. And then, like wisps of life being extinguished, the dust turned black
as death and rushed towards the wand, sticking to it and then diffusing into the wood.

The rune for enemy glowed with an unholy light. The wind blew harder than ever – shattering
desks and chairs against the walls. Lightning fizzled out from the tip of Harry’s wand. And at the
center of all the commotion stood Harry Potter himself, face set in immense determination as he
stood rooted to the spot in the eye of the storm.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

***

March, Quidditch Stadium

Harry saw Gabrielle’s avian form swoop down upon him with impossible speed, but he had
anticipated the tactic. He switched wand hands and then pointed his wand at himself, casting an
ancient spell. His muscles tightened and tensed as he received a temporary boost in strength. Veins
popped up all over his body as he stood rooted firmly to the dueling platform.

Then, just as Gabrielle’s talons closed in on his shoulders, Harry took a step back and the veela
screeched as her claws grabbed at empty air. Gabrielle rose into the air, possibly to make another
desperate sweep, but Harry stretched out with his right arm, grasping her leg just above her
outstretched talons.

He then pulled with magically enhanced strength. Gabrielle’s wings flapped helplessly as Harry
brought her crashing down onto the platform on her back. Simultaneously, Harry jabbed his left
hand forward, casting a cushion of air right where Gabrielle was about to crash onto the ground.

Gabrielle screeched as she hit the cushion of air. She tried to right herself, but found that her legs
had been snapped shut with chains. She tried morphing back to her human form, flailing
desperately for her wand, but her hands closed in on an empty wand holster.

The chains and the air cushion vanished as Gabrielle sank onto the platform. She rolled over and
looked up at Harry. He had long since disarmed her and was holding her wand in his right arm.
Despite herself, she smiled.

She had never stood a chance.

Harry grinned as a sudden silence fell upon the crowd. He waved Gabrielle’s wand in a complex
motion, conjuring a golden rose, which he floated over the Gabrielle with an impish smile. She
smiled right back, got up and dusted herself off. And daintily, she grabbed the rose. The ladies in
the crowd screamed. Harry then handed Gabrielle’s wand to her.

He then caught Gabrielle’s hand and raised it into the air, pumping both of their hands into the air.
And the non-humans in the crowd roared in approval – it was Harry’s way of declaring his
allegiance to their quest for equality. He looked at Gabrielle and whispered, “Well fought,
Gabby.”

She looked right at him and winked. “I shall expect a consolation prize tonight,” she said primly.

Harry winked right back, dropped her hand and walked over to where the arbiter waited with a
golden trophy.

***

The storm grew to a fever pitch, like applause in his ears. The wand blazed golden in his hand,
like a trophy held aloft in the air.

***

Harry caught the trophy and raised it into the air and the crowd roared and applauded. Chants of
“Harry” echoed throughout the stadium.

***

The storm died down. The lightning ceased to be. The runes stopped glowing. The rushing in his
ears ceased. The whispers in his head died. And the world burst into beautiful color. The drab
walls seemed to blaze with life. Torches around the room burst into fiery flame. And best of all,
Harry could truly feel everything – happiness, love, compassion… all of his suppressed feelings
came bursting forth, filling him with awe.

***

Harry brought the trophy down and shook the arbiter’s hand.

***
Harry brought his arm down, along with the Elder Wand. Magic flowed into him from it. He had
done it – he had united the Deathly Hallows. The wand was docile, yet thrummed with power in
his hands – it truly belonged to him now, forever and beyond.

***

His destiny… his future, was now in his hands. He was no longer a pawn any more – he was no
longer Dumbledore’s weapon, nor the Chosen One, nor a puppet strung around by the Hallows.
The Wand was his to use now. All of its power now belonged to him. He was now Master of the
Deathly Hallows. He could feel it in his very bones.

He saw Gabrielle meet up with Hermione and Ginny and talk softly with them. All three girls
turned to him and smiled. He smiled right back and winked.

“And now,” Harry murmured, “My life truly begins.”

***

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