Nothing

by Qwertyboi54

Not long

35. Results

Result

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .Saving a Veela

Harry slept fitfully in his four poster the night after the second task. He'd been uneasy for most of the day. From what he could tell, it had started in the early afternoon when he noticed a change come over the female population of the school; they seemed to be taunting him—enticing him—teasing him. It seemed that he couldn't so much as walk down a hallway without girls brushing up against him or walking by him seductively. But at the same time, he was sure that it was just in his head; even on a day without classes, the students of Hogwarts generally wore their school robes, but he could picture the bodies of the opposite sex moving beneath those uniforms as clearly as if they were wearing skin-tight leotards. He knew the girls hadn't changed, they weren't any different, it was simply that his perception of them had somehow heightened. There was no delicate way to say it; Harry was randy.

Finally, at half nine, he'd claimed he was tired from his swim in the lake and retreated up to bed in an effort to escape the array of femininity that, to Harry, saturated the common room. For more than an hour he had lay there, wishing that he could put the day's events behind him and fall asleep, but whenever he closed his eyes, he would see things that made his heart race: Hogwarts girls in lacy underthings; smooth, toned, tanned, bare flesh; breasts barely concealed by half open robes; long legs disappearing beneath robes much too short to be allowed in the castle—only just long enough to cover their owners most private parts; curtains of long silky hair. . .

It was near eleven when he had decided that the only way he would get any relief would be to, well, rub one out. Unfortunately, he was just beginning to work up some steam when, from the opposite side of the room, he'd heard Seamus doing the very same thing. He'd grimaced—all of his momentum was lost. Throwing up a silencing charm on his curtains didn't help, as now he couldn't get the sounds of Seamus pleasuring himself out of his head. Frustrated, he'd rolled over and closed his eyes, not even bothering to put his nightclothes back on, and tried to fall asleep, while visions of female flesh, tantalizingly hidden, danced behind his eyelids.

Now having fallen asleep, the relief he'd hoped he would find remained elusive. His dreams were filled with nameless, faceless, barely-clothed girls touching him, caressing him, trying to undress him. He settled a bit as the dream shifted and he found himself in an empty classroom with Cho. She slinked up to him seductively, her hands alternating between caressing various parts of her anatomy and opening the fastenings on her robe as she continued to draw nearer Harry. He caught tantalizing glimpses of bare flesh underneath the robe as it opened. She was mere feet from him now and she licked her lips invitingly. Harry swallowed as his breathing increased in pace.

Suddenly, the dream Cho was in his arms as the robe slid ever so slowly over her shoulders revealing her nakedness. He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers, wrapping his arms around her bare back, one just below her shoulders, the other at her waist. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the kiss and the armful of naked girl.

"Oh, Harry," she said as her lips broke away from the kiss before moving to kiss up his jaw line. Her voice sounded younger than normal, but it didn't fail to send shivers down his spine. "I want you."

Harry couldn't respond other than to kiss every bit of exposed skin that his lips could reach—cheek, jaw, neck, shoulder, arm—as his hands explored various interesting aspects of her form.

Moving back up to kiss her lips again, he noticed that her hair had changed; it was no longer black but a silvery blond. He knew that Cho's hair wasn't blond, but the change felt right to him and he couldn't explain it. Nor did he have any desire to do so.

She brought her lips to his and again Harry closed his eyes and revelled in the sensations. His hands continued their explorations, his right was kneading her bum and his left ventured around and moved up to her chest. The fact that her chest was flat, with no development whatsoever brought him up short. "Oh, 'Arry," she said, and this time he knew that the young voice wasn't Cho's. "Zank you for pulling me out of ze lake."

Harry's eye's shot open as he was forcefully pulled from his troubled sleep. He found himself in his four-poster, still naked and most definitely not alone.

"Gabrielle?" he breathed. He was too shocked by the girl's presence in his bed to be surprised that he remembered her name. She was sitting astride him as he lay on his back. She wore a nightgown that was really nothing more than a long shirt. He thought it was pink though it was difficult to tell in the dim light that filtered around and over his drawn curtains and it was bunched up at the bottom but would likely have barely kept her knickers from view had she been standing straight. She was sitting on his legs just below his crotch with his cock standing very erect directly in front of her. He gulped. "What are you. . ." He trailed off, unsure of what to say or how to extricate himself from this obviously embarrassing situation without either getting himself into serious trouble or becoming the subject of some very humiliating rumours. His eyes darted to his shorts wistfully; he wanted desperately to cover himself up but images of her running from his bed screaming loud enough to wake the entire tower should he startle her by moving to grab them stayed his hands.

"I 'ad to come to you," she said simply.

Shock and fear played their parts in slowing his thought processes. He found himself having to force his eyes up to hers to keep them off of the point where her belly contacted the base of his penis. He silently cursed the fact that it defiantly remained completely hard. "You. . . had. . ." he managed.

She giggled. "Surely you felt it."

"Felt. . .?" he repeated dumbly.

"Down by ze lake, silly boy," she said. She twitched her legs just enough to move her upper body forward and back again by the barest amount as though she wanted to press herself more firmly against his cock. As she moved, he felt something he hadn't noticed before: the nightgown she was wearing would not have covered her knickers after all, since she clearly didn't have any on. His cock gave an involuntary throb and he mentally groaned. "You know," she continued uninterrupted, "when we connected."

Harry couldn't understand why his mind was working at such a slow pace. He should be figuring out a way to gently tell her that she should leave quietly; she really shouldn't be there. Instead, all he could focus on—other than the incredibly intimate contact she had with him—were a few disconnected snippets of what she was saying.

"Connected?" he asked.

She nodded, apparently happy that he finally seemed to be grasping something.

"When you pulled me out of ze water," she said simply as though she thought it should be perfectly obvious to him. "I know you felt it." She leaned forward a bit, increasing her body's contact with his cock, and placed her right hand, palm down, on his chest just above his breast bone. "Right 'ere," she said.

Instinctively, his hand moved to cover hers. She smiled shyly at the contact. How could she be shy, he wondered. She was sitting on him more intimately than any other girl had ever done while she was only one article of clothing away from being completely nude! He didn't even know her. He'd never seen her before that morning and he'd only been in contact with her for the amount of time it took to swim her up to the surface of the water at which point she. . .

His thoughts trailed off. He'd just remembered something. Something that he'd almost completely ignored at the time. After he and Ron had pulled her out of the water, she'd looked him for the briefest of moments and he'd felt something right where Gabrielle now had her hand. The only way he could think of to describe it was, as she had said, a connection. What that meant, however, he didn't know.

For several seconds, Harry just stared into her eyes, suddenly very aware of every place that she was touching him. He struggled for something to say—an intelligent question as to the nature of what it was he had felt down by the lakeside and what it had to do with her being nearly naked in bed with him in the middle of the night.

"Connection?" he repeated unintelligently.

Again she nodded. "I am Veela," she said as though that explained everything.

Harry's mind latched onto something. He suddenly flashed on Fleur's comment during the weighing of the wands. Her grandmother was Veela. Gabrielle was Fleur's sister so Gabrielle's grandmother was Veela.

"You're a quarter Veela, right?" he asked.

She shook her head as she removed her hand from his chest and straightened back up. Harry felt a strange reluctance to let go of her hand. "More zan a 'alf. Mama is Veela and Papa 'as a bit of Veela in 'im too."

"OK. So you're more than half Veela," he said. "But what does that have to do with the, er, /connection/?"

She frowned and for a moment, he felt the inexplicable urge to hug her to him. He mentally shook himself and waited for her answer.

"You never studied ze Veela?" she said as though he'd insulted her heritage. He briefly wondered why he felt so uncomfortable.

"Erm, no," he said. "At least— I don't think we've covered Veela yet. Perhaps next term. I'm not really sure."

Her frown softened and Harry realized he felt better.

"Oh," she said simply. Then she moved. It was almost like the way she moved before when she'd raised up a bit and pressed herself against his cock, but where before it was so quick that it was almost over before he realized it was happening, this move was slower—more deliberate—and as she moved forward, she rotated her hips, gently pressing what he knew was her bare sex against his. He fought to keep his eyes from rolling back and he bit his tongue to keep from making any noise; he was sure that anything that sounded like he was enjoying what she was doing would be taken as encouragement. As she stopped her forward movement and began to move back—rotating her hips again to accentuate the grinding motion—she continued speaking. "Veela, 'Arry, are not yooman. While I am part yooman, I am, as I said, more zan 'alf Veela. I 'ave Veela blood and Veela traits." As she spoke she continued moving, a slow, determined forward and back, grinding herself against him. Harry found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

"Veela," Gabrielle continued, "'ave ze ability to form a connection wiz someone—a bond you might say."

Harry realized she was talking about the connection, but at the moment, all he could seem to focus on was the slow, steady back and forth of her hips. He put his hands on her hips to stop her movement, but it didn't seem to work and soon it was all he could do to keep himself from helping her. Removing his hands, however, never crossed his mind.

"Normally," she went on, smiling slightly when she felt his hands on her, "Veela only choose to connect—to bond—wiz someone after many years of knowing zat person. But sometimes, somezing can 'appen to make a bond form wizout ze Veela's choosing."

Harry was trying to listen to her, but most of his brain could only seem to understand: grind forward, grind back. . .

"For example: saving ze life of a Veela would not normally be enough to force a bond to form against ze Veela's will, but when a Veela is young, like me," she said as she gave a more insistent grind of her hips, "and just beginning maturation—if I were completely yooman it would be called puberty, but ze Veela do not call it zat—ze changes in ze Veela's body, ze changing—how do you say, er, chemicals?"

Harry was only listening with half an ear, but he still heard her struggle.

"Hormones?" he offered. He realized as he said it that the place where they were so intimately in contact was rather slick. Some part of his brain—a part way in the back—told him that it meant she was excited. In that same, out-of-the-way, back part of his brain, an alarm sounded. But then again, there had been so many alarms in his head since he'd awakened, one more made little difference.

"Oui, 'ormones," she said. "Wiz ze maturation and my 'ormones being out of balance, when you saved me from ze lake, we connected—a bond began to form. And now it is time to complete it."

So focused was he on the discovery of the slickness between them that it took a moment for what she had said to register.

"Complete it?" he asked after a few more cycles of her hips.

"Oui, you and I must 'ave sex," she said matter-of-factly with another particularly intense grind of her hips.

"Sex?" It was meant to be a shocked cry, but came out as a strangled whisper.

Her grinding was now more forceful and more deliberate than before but, incongruously, she giggled. "Oui, my 'ero. Sex."

Harry realized that his hands, while still on her hips, had somehow made their way underneath her nightgown. He jerked them away as though he'd been burned and she giggled again. She reached out at took his left hand and placed it on her thigh before guiding it up under her nightgown again so that it once more rested on her hip.

"It is OK to touch me 'Arry," she said. "I am yours to touch as you please."

"N-no, that's not r-right," he stammered, though he made no move to withdraw his hand from her bare skin. "We can't have sex. You're. . ." He cut himself off. As absurd as this entire situation was, he was afraid of offending her.

"I'm what?" she prompted.

There was nothing for it, now. "You're. . ." he began, then he nearly mumbled, "too young."

She laughed, bright and musical.

"'Arry," she said as she ground herself all the way up to the very tip of his cock, forcing it to lie flat against his stomach, before grinding all way back down. This time, Harry's eyes did roll back in his head. "I am Veela. We are sexual creatures. I was born knowing about sex. Most Veela 'oo live in ze Veela colonies 'ave 'ad sex before they are more zan a few years old. Ze only reason I am ze virgin is because I did not grow up around ozzer Veela. Zere was no one my age zat knew about sex."

She had gone back to her more intense grinding again. Harry realized that his right hand had found it's way back to her hip again; his other had migrated of it's own volition to grip her bum.

"Ze bond 'as started forming," she continued and she reached down, gathering the bottom of her nightgown in her hands and pulling it up over her head. His cock gave yet another throb as her naked body was revealed to him. She casually tossed the garment aside. "We must 'ave sex to complete ze bond."

She leaned forward, his cock pressing insistently against her now naked belly and sex, and placed her hands on either side of him, sliding herself up along his length so that their faces were close to each other.

"Ze desire will only grow stronger and stronger until you can no longer resist it and zen we will complete ze bond wherever you 'appen to be." Harry's eyes closed as he found his hands exploring her body of their own free will. Her skin was so soft and smooth and she seemed to be enjoying his touches; he wasn't so sure he wanted to stop any more.

"Now, while I would not care where it 'appens," she continued softly. "I'm sure you might be embarrassed to lose control and fuck me in public." He couldn't help but gasp a bit at her vulgarity. "Per'aps in ze great 'all? In front of ze 'ole school and ze teachers and ze ozzer schools?"

Part of Harry cringed at the thought of losing control and shagging in public, but another part of him found it strangely attractive. But still, Veela or not, she was just a child.

"I can't," he said. "It's not right."

She slid forward a bit and back again.

"What is right, 'Arry?" she asked. "I am yours, 'owever you want to treat me. I can be your lover, your princess, your seductress, your slave, your pet. . . I can be anyzing you want me to be." She leaned forward until her head was beside his so that when she spoke again he could feel her breath tickle his ear. "And I know you want me too. I can feel it."

Harry couldn't help but glance down at his own arousal pressing into the girl leaning over him before moving back up to her eyes. She caught the movement of his eyes and laughed.

"Non, mon cher," she said. She raised herself back over him and brought her right hand up and placed it on her flat chest, directly between her two, tiny, pink nipples, just as she had placed it on his chest before. "'Ere. Zis is where I feel it."

She brought her lips to his in a kiss. He found himself responding to it, either against his will or simply without it, he wasn't sure. He had never really given that much thought to kissing before; sure he assumed he would kiss a girl at some point in the future but he'd never spent much time thinking about what it would be like when he did. The reality, however, was nothing that he could have imagined. The feeling of her lips on his lit a fire in his chest and set off flashbulbs in the back of his mind; her tongue dancing with his was indescribable. The fact of her being so young seemed to have packed it's bags and slipped out one of his ears when he wasn't paying attention.

After some amount of time, and he most certainly wasn't sure just how much, she broke the kiss, sliding back down and lifting herself back to her original seated position, only to start her slow grinding once more.

"So," she said, "are you ready to complete ze bond, 'Arry?"

His mind seemed filled with fog; he couldn't think straight and could no longer remember the logical arguments for not letting her have her way. His resistance was more a case of mental inertia—he had been saying no, so he simply continued to do so. His determination, however was waning.

"I. . . cant," he managed.

"You cannot fight it, 'Arry," she said. "Sooner or later. . ." As if to prove her point, she put her hand on his cock and gave it a couple of slow strokes. Harry could only grit his teeth at the contact.

"Gabrielle, I. . ." But he couldn't form a thought. All his excuses seemed to have gone, and in doing so had left him with only his waning determination.

Slowly, she raised herself up on her knees—dragging herself along his length as she did so—until the head of his cock was poised at her entrance. She started lowering herself back down, but as his hardness began pressing into her sex, Harry came to his senses. In a flash, his hands were back at her hips, only this time, they were holding her above his cock, preventing her from sliding any lower.

"No," he said and he heard her growl in frustration.

"Oui," she said defiantly, trying to force herself down on his cock but his hands held her firm. It was clear that she was becoming frustrated and, at the moment, her frustration mirrored Harry's own.

"I don't care if you are a Veela," he said firmly. "You are still just a child. You're too young for this."

"You zink I am a child? Mon Dieu!" she yelled. Harry was glad for the silencing charm as the others in the room continued snoring away, blissfully unaware of the battle raging between the to naked people in their dorm mate's bed. "I'll show you just 'ow much of a child I am. 'Arry, I want you to fuck me. I want you to take my virginity. I want you zrow me down and make me a woman. I want you to slide zis beautiful cock of yours into my cunt and make love to me until I scream your name and you cum inside me. I want you to use me for your own pleasure. I want you to pound me until I cannot walk." She stroked as much of his length as she could reach while she tried to convince him. Harry's arms were getting tired from holding her up but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to move her away from his cock.

"Use me, 'Arry," she continued without so much as a pause. "Fuck me until neizer of us can move and zen let me sleep wiz you still inside me. Fuck me! Use me! 'Ave sex wiz me! Make love to me! Rape me!" She was panting and flushed, though it was difficult to tell in the dim light, but she still stroked his cock with her small hand.

She was heavy in Harry's hands and she slipped down a little and the head of his cock parted her outer lips and wedged itself in her entrance. For a moment, all he could do was grit his teeth, but then something snapped in the back of his mind. Perhaps it was the frustration he'd been faced with all day, perhaps it was her taunting, perhaps her teasing him or her stroking him—perhaps it was a combination—but without warning, he moved, flipping her over so that she was laying on her back in the same place that he had been with him now on top of her, his cock somehow still poised at her entrance.

"You want to be used?" he asked her, punctuated with a short sharp thrust of his hips; not enough to penetrate her, just enough to let her know that he was most certainly still at her entrance.

"Oui, mon 'Arry," she said as she spread her legs wide as though granting him permission. "Fuck me. Use me. Make me yours!"

He gave another thrust, more insistent than the first and, after a bit of resistance, the head of his cock slipped inside. Gabrielle inhaled sharply and her eyes widened.

"Oui! Oui, 'Arry. More! More!" she demanded.

Harry had never felt anything like what he was feeling now. She was tight—oh, so incredibly tight—and slick. With her beneath him encouraging him to go on, he pressed forward a bit more until her walls seemed to cling to him, preventing him from going deeper. In his naïveté, he thought that would be as deep as he could go. But when his instincts kicked in and he pulled out and pushed back in, he sank even deeper.

Gabrielle moaned, looking up at him with a fierce, determined look in her eyes. She reached up and grabbed his back, pulling him closer, and locked her legs around his as though to both spur him on and prevent him from going anywhere should he develop second thoughts.

Now that he had given in to her tempting him, Harry found that any thoughts of stopping were so far from his mind as to be non-existent. For the moment at least, Harry's universe seemed to have shrunk down to the size of his cock; the sensations that he was experiencing and the feel of the girl underneath him were all that mattered.

He pulled back out and plunged in once again, burying himself completely inside her. At the moment their pubic bones collided, Gabrielle moaned—a high pitched, drawn out sound that was far too sexy to have come from such a young girl—and clenched around him spasmodically; child or not, Harry realized that she had had an orgasm simply by being fully penetrated. As inexperienced as he was, he wondered if all girls came so easily. Not knowing what else to do, he stopped his movements.

She managed to emerge from her orgasm induced haze enough to beg him to continue; he didn't have to be told twice. He began a slow in-and-out motion that, at first, lacked coordination. She didn't seem to mind, however as, judging by the clenching he felt and the sounds she kept making, Gabrielle seemed to be enjoying a very long, drawn out orgasm.

As Harry's body found rhythm and his movements came smoother and easier, the Veela found her voice.

"Oh, oui!" she said. "Fuck me 'Arry. Make me yours. 'Arder, mon amour, 'arder, faster!"

Harry tried to oblige the girl.

"Oh, merde!" she cried. "Oh, oui, mon cher." And she came again.

Harry continued stroking in and out of the girl. On some level, he was enjoying the fact that she was able to find so much pleasure in their union. On another level, he was simply in awe of the fact that he was shagging for the first time.

Part of him, a small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Hermione, was trying to tell him that he was raping a child. But, through the sex induced haze in his brain, a louder voice—the one that had pulled him out of Professor Moody's Imperious curse—pointed out the fact that she came to him wanting this, she begged him for it—practically demanded it; pointed out that she was more Veela than human; pointed out that, with the bond that he could feel strengthening, he knew that every reason she had given him for doing this was true. He really didn't have a choice, not that he wanted one at the moment.

He reached down and caressed her chest, stroking the place where, one day, her left breast would be. He seized her nipple and twisted it, pulling it before releasing it and letting it snap back. Gabrielle cried out in shock and pleasure as she orgasmed once again from the pain.

He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, their tongues duelling in each other's mouths.

His stroking continued and he felt himself getting close. Wanting to prolong the moment as long as possible, he pulled out of her and inched back on his knees, pushing himself up and resting on his heels, his cock jutting obscenely in the air. Gabrielle whimpered at the loss and tried to hunch herself back onto him but let out a frustrated moan when she realized that he was no longer in the position for her to do so. She clambered up and onto her own knees and heels, her eyes asking the unvoiced question, "Why did you stop?" Without Harry having to say anything, however, she pulled the answer from the forming bond.

With a coy smile, she bent down and engulfed him in her mouth. The warm wetness and the feeling of her tongue swirling around his manhood was a new experience for Harry. A moan of pleasure was ripped from his throat.

Gabrielle wasted no time in going to work. She stroked him with her right hand and fondled his testicles with her left as her mouth bobbed up and down and her tongue swirled and tickled. A shudder of pleasure racked Harry's body and, without so much as touching herself, Gabrielle came again.

Harry suddenly realized that, as the bond was growing stronger, she was becoming more in tune with what he was feeling, his pleasure gave her pleasure. "And," he mused to himself, "it apparently magnifies it."

Suddenly, as though following his train of thought, the girl changed tactics. She released her hold on his cock and balls and grabbed his waist. Before he even had a chance to wonder what she was going to do, she plunged down on him, burying her nose in his pubic hair and his cock down her throat. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head and another orgasm hit the girl, her neck muscles contracting as though in sympathy with her vaginal muscles.

Then she began moving, using her grip on his waist to throat-fuck herself on his cock. Harry's head fell back and his eyes close and another moan escaped his throat. Instinctively, Harry reached out and tangled his hands in her hair and began guiding her. He wasn't sure how, but he had received the distinct impression that she smiled—as much as she could smile anyway with is cock down her throat—when he did so.

Harry felt himself nearing his orgasm again so he stopped her when he was as far down as she could be and held her there. She didn't seem to mind and she also didn't seem to need to breath. For a moment, he felt the need to come lessening, then he felt her throat begin to rhythmically contract at the same time he felt her tongue somehow snake out and lick around the top of his scrotum.

He let her ministrations continue for a few more seconds before he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back so that she was again lying in the position she'd been earlier. In a flash, he was atop her, his mouth on hers, their tongues duelling. He gave no thought to the fact that her mouth had just been around his cock and that, as little as fifteen minutes ago, he would have been repulsed by the idea of kissing a girl after such an act.

She wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his bum and again tried to hunch herself down so that she could have his cock back inside her. Harry pulled back from the kiss and grinned ferally, then he reached down and placed himself back at the entrance to her sopping cunt.

"Is this what you want?" he teased, while pretending to be unable to find the exact location of her entrance. She instinctively shifted her hips and pulled with her legs trying to blindly impale herself on him. "Tell me you want it," he said.

"Oui! Yes!" she panted. "I want it!"

He stroked his hardness up along the outside of her pussy, stopping when he hit her clit and she shuddered in a near orgasm.

"Really?" he asked, sounding sceptical. "You don't sound like you want it all that much."

"Oh! Mon Dieu, 'Arry! J'ai besoin de. . ." she began. "Yes! Yes! I need it!"

Without letting his cock any closer to the entrance to her cunt, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Beg me."

"Oh, God, 'Arry! I'll do anything," she pleaded without hesitation. "I need it! Fuck me! Claim me! Use me! S'il vous plait! Please! Let me worship you wiz my body!" He placed himself at her entrance. "I don't deserve you," she continued. "But I beg of you, let me pleasure you."

He rammed himself into her. She screamed and came and began thrusting back against him as her orgasm rolled on and on. Her arms tightened around him which had the effect of almost pulling her off the bed so that she could get him deeper inside her. He thrust, hard and fast, slamming into her over and over as she whimpered in pleasure underneath him.

Long and deep strokes hammered her arse down into the bed, the wet, slapping sounds of their genitals colliding mixed with her quiet moaning whimpers and his rhythmic grunts.

His thrusting slowed as he felt himself nearing his peak once again so he stopped and pulled out. She immediately tried to tighten her hold on him with her legs to prevent him from getting away but he grabbed her legs and forced them around so that they were resting on his shoulders, trapping them with his arms to keep her from moving them back. He then took himself in hand and aimed his cock at the tiny pucker nestled between her two fleshy cheeks. Her eyes widened in surprise but he saw no fear in them. Indeed, coming from the bond, he felt only excitement and anticipation all wrapped up with a healthy dose of lust. Guessing that she knew what her body was capable of, he simply thrust forward hard and fast, burying himself balls-deep in her rectum.

She screamed in pain. Then, when his pleasure hit her through the bond a split-second later, she came; more intense than any of her other orgasms that night, she literally sprayed his abdomen with her juices.

A combination of the pleasure that he felt being inside her as he was and her pleasure seeping back to him over the bond had him close to coming himself. He pulled back and thrust in. She screamed again as her orgasm intensified and more of her juices splashed across him and trickled down to their union.

Another thrust. And another. And suddenly, he couldn't hold back any longer. He exploded in her depths, his orgasm more intense than any that he'd ever had in his life; it seemed to go on forever. Her orgasm peaked again in sync with his climax and through the bond sharing each other's pleasure, they fed off each other—his prolonging hers and hers prolonging his.

Each was half aware of seeing, through barely open eyes, a nimbus of golden light emanating from their union and expanding out to envelop them as their mutual orgasm slowly transitioned into it's denouement.

His climax over, Harry tried to pull out of her, only to find himself too sensitive to move. After a bit of careful manoeuvring, they managed to situate themselves so that he was spooned up behind her with his softening cock still buried in her arse. She seemed to draw comfort from the intimacy of their position and he enjoyed the closeness as well.

Harry found himself suddenly very sleepy and Gabrielle smiled at the stereotype of the male that falls asleep as soon as he comes.

"So," he said groggily, "what was that light, anyway?"

"That was the completion of the bond," she said, and Harry was surprised that her English was now perfect. "Now we are together forever."

He smiled sleepily. "I notice you don't have an accent any more."

Harry sensed her hesitation through the bond before she answered. "I think you'll find that's not all that's changed. . ." She hesitated again before speaking her final word, "Master."

The Unexpected Result of. . .

. . .Being Bonded to a Veela

Harry woke suddenly when the curtains of his four-poster were thrown violently aside.

"Harry, it's late, you're. . ." Ron stopped mid-sentence. There was a long moment of silence during which Harry gathered his bearings. He found he was still naked and had the also still naked Gabrielle Delacour spooned up against him. His arm was wrapped around her, though, sometime during the night, his cock had slipped out of her arse. Harry realized that there was going to be no way that he could ever explain his predicament; he was caught and he was just sure that he was going to be expelled—barring Ron being able to keep his mouth shut about it.

Ron was his friend. Ron might understand; he might not say anything about it. He. . .

He was going to be expelled.

"Harry," Ron said with an exasperated tone, pulling Harry from his worried musings, "if you're going to sleep starkers, then at least have the decency to cover up. I don't want to see that first thing in the morning."

"Erm, Ron," he began, lamely. "I, er, know this— I can explain."

"That's OK. I'd rather not hear it," Ron said wryly. But Harry wasn't listening and continued rambling.

"It's, er, you see, uh, I was sleeping last night and, er, she, um— When I woke up she was. . ." He trailed off. There was simply nothing he could say to Ron that would explain his bed partner in any way that wasn't, well, criminal.

Ron had blinked the first time that Harry had said the word "she" and looked at Gabrielle as though seeing her for the first time.

"Oh," he said, with a note of surprise and confusion. "Um, hello."

Gabrielle just smiled up at him as though she hadn't a care in the world. Of course, Harry thought, there's no way in the world that she's going to be in trouble for this.

"Good morning," she said sweetly.

Ron gave her a brief smile, then looked back to Harry.

"Better get a move on," he said as though he hadn't just found his best mate in bed with a very naked eight-year-old girl. "Class starts in half an hour."

Then he was gone.

And that was it.

No comments.

No accusations.

No "what the hell were you thinking?"

No "why the fuck is there a naked child in your bed?"

The deafening silence stretched out in the wake of Ron's departure before Harry exhaled the breath that he hadn't realize he'd been holding; Gabrielle's hair fluttered in front of him and she giggled. She turned over and looked at him with a sly smile on her pixyish face. She seemed to be waiting for him to ask a question so he obliged.

"What," he said carefully, "was that?"

She didn't answer but adopted a look of complete and obviously feigned innocence.

Harry pressed on. "Why didn't he go spare when he saw us? He didn't even seem to care."

She smiled, leaned forward and kissed him. "We're bonded," she said simply. Then she sprang to her feet and stood beside the bed as though waiting for him. "Come Master, we must shower. We smell of our exertions. " She said the last word as though it were incredibly naughty and, Harry supposed, in this context, it really was.

He found and slipped on his shorts, then, as he sat on the edge of the bed, reached for Gabrielle's discarded nightgown which she apparently had no inclination to pick up herself. As soon as he touched it, however, there was a brief flare of magic and the nightgown was gone. In it's place there was a thin strip of black leather with a clasp at each end and a highly polished medallion in the middle. There was a sudden intake of breath from Gabrielle and when Harry's attention shifted from the leather strap to her, he found a look of surprise and delight on her face. She practically ripped it out of his hands and, before he could think to ask her what she was doing, had fastened it around her neck like a collar, the medallion shining brightly in the very centre of her throat. She was beaming.

"Oh, Master!" she squealed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He suddenly found himself with an armful of very pleased girl as she launched herself at him. "I'll do everything I possibly can to show you my gratitude for this." He instinctively hugged her to him as she fingered the medallion with pride. He noticed that the medallion was simple, silver, round and embossed with the letter "P". She seemed to notice that he was studying it and she kissed him on the cheek. "I am yours," she said simply.

Suddenly, she seemed to come to herself and she leapt from his lap and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. "Please, Master," she said. "You mustn't be late for class." In a flash, she'd let go of his hand and had gathered the items he needed for his shower, including an extra towel and a clean pair of boxers, and had handed him his dressing gown; she barely allowed him to put it on before dragging him to the showers, still naked as the day she was born barring her new collar.

He was, at first, reticent to have her in the boy's showers, but, as all the others seemed to be already down breakfasting, he soon relaxed since she seemed to be determined to stay with him.

Soon enough, they were sharing a shower and to his surprise—though in retrospect it should have been expected—he was happy that they were. He was coming to realize that he wanted her around just as much as she wanted to stay around him.

She took the soap and began lathering his body with care. It felt natural to him as though she'd washed him every day of his life. Under the intense scrutiny that she paid him as she began gently scrubbing every square inch of his skin, he expected to feel self-conscious—even after what they'd shared last night in his bed—but he wasn't.

He couldn't help but watch her as she bent to soap his legs and feet. She was lithe; much more graceful than others her age—whether that was something she received from the bonding or from her Veela heritage he didn't know. Her skin was pale and smooth as though it had never seen the sun. It glistened as the water from the shower cascaded over it, running down in little rivulets. Her silvery-blond hair, darkened a few shades by the shower, was sleek and straight and perfect, even wet, and came to her mid-back.

As she worked her way up his body, taking extra care in washing his genitals, he got a good look at the front of her: her long slender neck, now wrapped in the choker that marked her as his; her undeveloped, flat chest topped with those tiny, pink nipples; the long legs that would be gangly on anyone else her age; the smooth, hairless cleft nestled between her upper thighs to which he felt irresistibly drawn.

The immaturity found in the features of her face served only to reinforce the vision of youthful beauty that he now found so captivating. The small nose, full lips and striking, wide eyes, which were the very essence of innocence despite the hint of maturity that could be seen behind them, gave her a look that would surely make even angels seem vile, ugly and iniquitous by comparison. He smiled down at her. She was his.

Twenty-four hours ago, he would not have found her sexy at all.

Hell, roughly twenty-two hours ago, he'd barely given her a second glance, now he couldn't take his eyes off her. And he couldn't stop himself growing hard. He couldn't believe how much he wanted her.

She smiled impishly at him when she came into contact with his arousal.

"Master," she chided gently. "We have little time for this."

He only continued to smile at her, waiting expectantly.

After only a moment, she seemed to acquiesce and took him in hand. "It will have to be fast," she said. She quickly rinsed the soap from his cock and engulfed him in her eager mouth.

Harry groaned. The girl wasted no time. She was stroking his length with one hand, caressing his balls with the other and providing the most delightful sucking sensation with her mouth, all the while laving the head of his cock with her talented tongue.

He gently placed his hands on either side of her head in an effort to show his appreciation.

"Oh, God!" he exclaimed. "That feels so good."

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing with happiness.

She continued stroking his shaft and bobbing her head.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" he asked, pitching his voice so that she would, hopefully, understand that it was a complement. She seemed to take it as praise and she giggled around him, sending shivers of pure pleasure down his prick that radiated like waves throughout his body. It was all he could do to remain standing. "Feel free to. . .do this any time," he gasped. "I'd also. . .like to return. . .the favour soon."

She shivered in anticipation at that thought which only added to the sensations that he was experiencing.

He could feel himself growing close now as he delighted in her actions.

She seemed to sense his impending climax and, as she had the night before, she grabbed his hips and thrust herself down on his cock, burying it in her throat. The feeling nearly overwhelmed him and with the feedback through the bond, she came without the need to touch herself. Her orgasm fed back through the bond to him, more intense than it had the previous night, and increased his pleasure. With a grunting cry, his cock twitched and he exploded down her throat.

She waited until he stopped spasming and then pulled off of him. He was amazed at how long she seemed to be able to go without air.

Harry enjoyed the afterglow as Gabrielle busied herself finishing her job of cleaning him up. When she was done, she washed herself with a bit of help from him. However, he was more interested in playing than actually washing.

"I'm sorry, Master, no time," she said gently as she removed his hand from between her legs for the third time.

"I can't help it," he said, sounding for all the world like a little boy told to put away his toys. "You're just too sexy. You shouldn't be, but, Merlin help me, you are!"

Her pride in his complement was obvious, but she quickly finished washing herself and shut off the water.

She grabbed both towels and handed one to him. She hesitated with the other for a moment.

"So, you think I'm sexy when I'm dripping wet?"

Standing nude in the shower, in front of an equally naked girl who had just given him a blow job and let him come down her throat, he still somehow managed to blush when he answered, "Incredibly."

The corners of her mouth twitched up in a mischievous smile and she dropped all but a single corner of the towel she still held.

"In that case," she said, "I'll just have to stay this way." Then she turned on her heel and sauntered toward the door, dragging the towel and swaying her hips much more sexily than a girl her age ought to be able to do. "I'll just go lay your clothes out," she called over her shoulder as she left the room.

Harry quickly dried himself, donned the clean boxers and his dressing gown, gathered his shower things and nearly sprinted back to his dorm room where he found a school robe and a pair of socks waiting for him on his bed. Gabrielle was standing in front of the mirror, still naked and scintillating from the shower, running a comb through her still wet hair. He suddenly remembered her nightgown becoming the choker and wondered if she had anything to wear at all.

"Do you need clothes or something?" he said as he began to dress.

She looked over and smiled at him and shook her head before turning back to the mirror and refocusing on her hair.

"OK," he said. He figured that she had a dressing gown or something that, perhaps, he just hadn't seen before. Or maybe she was planning on borrowing something of his to wear, which would be fine with him. He knew she would find something to wear while she went. . . well, wherever it was she was going. He knew she had to leave but realized he didn't know where she would go once she had gone and found that that bothered him.

"You're not planning on staying here are you?" he asked, almost hoping that she was; he rather liked the idea of coming back to his dorm to find her waiting for him. However, although he had somehow seemed to dodge a bullet with Ron, there was no way he could expect that to happen with his other room mates.

She shook her head without looking away from the mirror.

"You have some place to go?" he continued.

"Of course," she said, turning to smile at him again.

He finished tying his shoes and stood.

"Oh, OK. I need to get going." he said awkwardly. "Um, thanks for last night. And for this morning. It was incredible." She radiated pride and he smiled.

He grabbed his book-bag and was at the door when he realized that she was right there with him. He stopped.

"Er, don't you think you should get dressed before you leave?" he asked gently.

She adopted the tone of one attempting to be patient with a child. "Master, I am dressed," she said, indicating the choker she wore. "This is all I will ever wear from now on."

"But you can't walk around like that," he said incredulously. "You're naked. People will see."

"I am yours, Master," she said with that same air of patience. "No one will notice me."

His eyes raked up and down her nude form; she still sparkled with slowly drying shower water. He found the idea of her going unnoticed as she was a very hard thing to believe. He didn't have time to argue, however; he needed to get to class. Despite being young, she had to know that it was inappropriate to walk around in nothing but a choker even if she seemed determined to do so.

He thought crazily that, should worse come to worst, he would just pretend that he didn't know her. He reckoned that no one would know the were together. After all, he thought, it couldn't possibly be as bad as being caught naked in bed with her. They couldn't hold him responsible for a naked girl walking around. Could they?

Without another word, he continued out the door and down the stairs, Gabrielle trailing along in his wake as though she belonged there and, considering the bond, he figured that, in a way, she did.

Upon reaching the common room, he noticed Colin Creevey and a couple other third-years sitting around. Harry guessed they had a free period first thing that morning. They all looked up at him when he entered and Colin waved before they returned to whatever it was they doing. None of them so much as glanced in Gabrielle's direction.

With more than a bit of confusion, he clambered out of the portrait hole, Gabrielle right behind him, and checked his watch only to find it had stopped working; it occurred to him that he had forgotten to remove it before his trip into the lake. Not knowing exactly how much time he had, he decided to forego even stopping by the Great Hall to pick up some toast and instead, chose to head directly to Transfiguration. He quickly made his way through the hallways, Gabrielle, to his dismay, following him dutifully.

Somehow, he passed no one the entire way to class. When he opened the door to the Transfiguration classroom, however, he found that nearly everyone was seated, waiting patiently for McGonagall, who was standing next to her desk, to begin the lesson. Everyone turned around at the sound of the door opening and he knew that there was no way in the world that Gabrielle, who, he was very aware, was still right behind him, would be in any way hidden. He quickly and guiltily entered the room and sat down next to Hermione who had saved him a seat. As he pulled his Transfiguration book from his bag, he noticed, to his embarrassment, that his bonded was standing next to him proudly and happily, still quite naked—though now dry, save her hair which was still rather damp—as though she'd done this every day of her life.

He looked up to see McGonagall watching him judgingly.

He waited for the reaction: the stern voice, the thinned lips, the oozing disapproval.

Seconds that were aeons in length ticked by, one by one.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabrielle move and he felt her slide her arm around his shoulders as she gently leaned up against his side as though to announce their union. Harry gulped and tried not to quail under his head of house's stern appraisal.

McGonagall's gaze had lingered on him for an eternity, but then she gave the slightest of nods and looked away.

Harry felt wrong-footed. Did she approve of the naked girl in her class? Was it not against the rules for students to have a nude child clinging to them? Where was the punishment? Where was the loss of points? Where was the quick expulsion? Where was the disappointment? He risked a glance at Hermione, assuming she'd be just itching to give him a lecture about trailing a naked girl around the castle, but she was merely watching the professor, waiting for the beginning of class.

The bell rang and Harry, nervous as he was, nearly leapt out of his chair. Hermione shot him a sideways glance, her brow furrowed, and McGonagall asked him if he was all right.

Not trusting his voice at the moment, he simply nodded and tried not to blush in embarrassment.

The lesson progressed as though there was one less naked Veela in the room that there actually was. Harry found it impossible to concentrate: for the first ten minutes of class it was because he was expecting the gavel to fall at any moment; for the rest of the lesson, once he realized that what she'd said up in the dorm was correct, that no one would notice her, it was because he was constantly distracted by the proximity and nudity and occasional touches of the apparently unobservable girl.

During the lesson, he noticed that several of the girls in the class seemed to have difficulty concentrating, including Hermione, whom Harry caught more than once looking at him with a slightly glazed look in her eyes before she'd flush and look away as though embarrassed.

Gabrielle's closeness and occasional touches were driving him crazy. What was worse was she seemed to be all too aware of it and apparently prided herself in seeing just how aroused she could make him.

By the end of class, Gabrielle had Harry so worked up that Hermione had, at one point, quietly asked him if he was all right because she thought he looked flushed. In truth, Harry was more sexually excited than he had ever been during a class before—his heart was racing, his pulse was pounding, his cock was hard and throbbing (luckily hidden beneath the desk) and he was having difficulty restraining himself from taking Gabrielle right there in the middle of Transfiguration, rules and disapproving professors be damned!

And still she continued to tease him: rubbing her hands down the back of his robes, running her fingers along the rim of his ears, playing with his hair and, every once in a while, managing to manoeuvre so that his hand found it's way in between her legs where it seemed to want nothing more than to caress her incredibly warm, bald sex of it's own accord.

When the bell rang for the end of class, Harry mumbled to Ron and Hermione that he had something to take care of and he would see them at lunch. He seized Gabrielle's hand and practically ran from the room. Finding the first unused classroom he could, he dragged her inside and locked and silenced the door. He unfastened his robes and while he removed them, she quickly pulled his boxers down. He stepped out of them and pulled her up to him, his cock pressed between them, leaking his fluids on her belly. They wrapped their arms around each other and they kissed. Harry's right hand slipped down her back, over her bum and in between her legs questing for her entrance. He found her dripping.

He pulled his hand away and, grabbing her shoulders, held her at arms length.

"You've been very naughty, haven't you?" he asked, smirking evilly.

Her eyes danced with excitement as she smiled and nodded. She made a grab for his turgid manhood, only to have him restrain her arms.

"You spent that entire lesson driving me mad."

She tried her best to look innocent, but couldn't seem to clear the guilt from her face entirely.

"You, my dear," he said menacingly, "are now going to pay the penalty."

Her eyes went wide. Harry could tell from the bond that she was excited, but she tried her utmost to look scared.

As quick as he could manage, he had her on the ground, hovering over her. She waited expectantly, trying for all she was worth to make her lower lip tremble convincingly.

Harry reached down, guided himself to her slick cunt and without further preamble, shoved himself all the way in. She gasped at the suddenness only to moan in pleasure an instant later. He began a steady, pounding rhythm, needing desperately to work off some of what she'd spent an hour and a half building up. Tangling her hands in his perpetually messy hair, she bucked her hips up to meet each thrust. She pulled his head down and their mouths met once again to let their tongues explore.

When their kiss broke, he licked his way along her jawline, down to her neck and around her new collar. She gasped in pleasure. He raised himself up and just drank her in with his eyes as his cock continued pistoning inside her. Young as she was, she was gorgeous—lying there beneath him, a lustful smirk on her face, her eye glazed over, her silvery hair fanned out around her head like a halo, a steady grunt escaping her each time he bottomed out in her immature pussy. He grabbed a nipple and, as he had the night before, he twisted it and pulled it before allowing it to snap back painfully. And, just as it had those few hours ago, the shock, pain and pleasure drove her over the edge. She came violently.

"Uuuhh," she cried. "Oh, Master! Oh, yes! Oh, harder!" Her orgasm peaked and slowly faded. Harry's cock twitched but he didn't come.

Carefully, he raised up on his knees and rested back on his heels, pulling her along so that she was still impaled on him. He wrapped his hands around her waist and proceeded to continue pounding in and out of her. Unable to reach him in that position, she contented herself with playing with her own nipples, twisting them and pulling them as he had done twice now. She moaned each time, but she clearly did not derive the same pleasure from it as she had when it had been his hands doing the teasing.

He smiled and kept pounding away, feeling the pressure build—he was getting close. He picked up the pace a bit, but could only speed up so much as he had set a rather quick rhythm when he'd started.

Not content with abusing her own nipples, Gabrielle used her left hand to caress her chest as though she had breasts and reached her other down to play with her clit. Harry watch her masturbating as he fucked her for a few seconds, then he slapped her hand away. She opened her eyes which had been closed since she'd come and looked up into his face. He was smirking.

She groaned in frustration and moved her had back to the top of her slit.

Again, he watched it for a few seconds before slapping it away.

This time she grunted in annoyance, too aroused for words, before returning to her self-ministrations.

Another few seconds passed as he watched her masturbate.

This time, instead of swatting it away, he grabbed her hand with his left and pinned it against her hip so that she couldn't move it.

Now she nearly screamed in defeat. He knew she was close and was just looking for that little bit to push her over the edge. He expected her to try masturbating with her other hand now, but she seemed to resist the idea and merely continued fondling her non-existent tit.

He was getting close now and his thrusting became more insistent. Gabrielle was clearly right on the brink as she began to babel incoherently as her eyes closed once again in anticipation. Harry started moaning as he approached his release.

Apparently no longer able to resist, her left hand started slowly snaking it's way down to her pussy. He let it get only half way there before he used his right thumb to stroke her clit. The unexpected contact was all it took and she tipped over the edge and into orgasm.

With the combination of her clenching cunt, and the feedback through the bond, nothing more was needed to drive Harry over the edge as well. He cried out as his cock erupted inside her, spraying her womb with his come; the added pleasure of the two orgasms feeding one another extended both so much that, by the time Harry's subsided, he was almost sore from the rhythmic muscular contractions. He slipped out of her and crawled up to lay on the hard floor beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and they cuddled.

"I think we should talk," he said after a few minutes.

Her eyes darted to his but she found no anger there, only curiosity and a touch of humour. She nodded and sighed but remained silent.

"Why don't you start with what this bond really is. Or perhaps why you didn't explain all this last night."

Even lying on the floor, she seemed to slump down.

"I was naïve," she said finally.

"What do you mean?"

"I told you about the bond that some Veela choose to initiate after years of getting to know someone."

"Yes," he prompted.

She hesitated for a few seconds and then appeared to steel herself.

"There's more than one kind of bond."

He tightened his arms in an effort to show her support.

"The bond I told you about last night," she went on, "is a bond of equals. It's like a marriage only deeper; more intimate. Last night, I pushed you and pushed you because you seemed reluctant. When you finally gave in," she hesitated again, "you dominated me. As much as I knew about sex, as much as any Veela is born knowing, I never thought I would like such a thing. I never thought I could." She turned to look him in the eye. "But you forced me, controlled me. And I submitted. Willingly, I submitted. Happily, I. . . We were that way when the bond completed and that determined the kind of bond it would be.

"When I came to you last night to complete the bond, I expected only a marriage bond—I was sure that I would be your equal so that is the only bond I told you about when you asked. But with this kind of bond, I'm not your equal. I'll be your toy, your plaything. You can use me to seek your own pleasure because I will always find mine in yours."

"I noticed you can come without being touched," he said.

"Yes, right," she agreed. "It was more intense for me last night when the bond was forming, but it's still strong—stronger than I expected it would be." She blushed and looked away. "I had several small orgasms while I was teasing you in class."

He smiled and she appeared to relax when she learned that he wasn't upset by that fact.

"About that," he said. "How is it that you spent an hour and a half standing naked in the middle of half the fourth-year students in this school and Professor McGonagall and no one said anything?"

She turned playfully on her side and began drawing slow patterns on his chest.

"It's the type of bond we have. Since I am a plaything, a toy, I must always be ready for you, so I'll always be naked. And since my being nude in public is not normally an acceptable thing, the bond causes everyone but you to ignore me unless you or I draw attention to me."

"Like a permanent notice-me-not charm."

"Exactly," she said, smiling coyly. "It should also extend to anything I do to you."

"And if someone does see you? Like Ron did this morning?"

"Then they'll think that it's nothing out of the ordinary. To them, it's as if I've always been a part of you. And as soon as they're not aware of me any more, it just slips into the back of their minds and they won't give it a second thought; they'll go back to not noticing me."

"Oh," he said. "What about weather, though. You'll get sunburned if I have to stay outside all day. And what about cold? This castle is draughty in winter. Aren't you freezing?"

"No," she said. "I'm quite comfortable. The bond protects me. I'll never be too hot or too cold or cut my foot if I step on something sharp or be sunburned."

"That's good to know."

Her dancing fingers were starting to arouse him again. He was surprised at just how randy he was.

As if sensing this, she crawled up and straddled him, raising up to capture his cock in her cunt before sliding back down. Then, instead of fucking him, she just started a slow, circular grind as she continued talking as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

"There's much more known about the marriage bond than there is about the one we have, since almost all Veela bonds are the marriage kind. It's rather unheard of for a Veela to enter this kind of bond. There are, however a few more known facts."

Her grinding continued and Harry could feel that she was gaining at least as much pleasure from her movements as he was.

"First, the bonding lets us share certain things. We can't read each other's minds, but we can share intense feelings."

"Orgasms," he offered.

"Yes, definitely," she said with a wistful smile. "Those are very nice. It also allows us to sense certain things about the other like moods or simple information."

"Really?" he asked.

"How old am I?" she asked in response.

"Eight," he responded immediately.

"Correct. And you know this because. . ."

"I. . ." But he realized that he didn't know.

"You know because I am. I've lived eight years. It's part of who I am. Now, what's my birthday?"

"It's. . . Um. . . I don't know. I can't tell," he said.

"That's because my birthday is just a day, it's not part of me," she said. "I was born on 9 May, 1986, though. In case you were wondering."

She increased the speed of her grinding slightly. Just enough for him to notice.

"Second, the bonding is likely to have increased your drive. You'll likely require sex several times a day."

That was for sure. He was on his way to his third orgasm of the day and it wasn't even lunch yet.

"It's a good thing you'll always be around then isn't it?" he asked cheekily.

She clenched her vaginal muscles and he groaned.

"Third, I'm not sure, but I think you now have the Veela 'pull'. Or at least a variation. Possibly something very similar."

"'Pull'?" he asked.

"Have you ever been around Veela?" she asked. "Other than just my sister and me, I mean."

"Yeah," he said with a bit of embarrassment. "I made a fool of myself at the Quidditch World Cup."

"Then you have felt the 'pull'. It's an ability Veela have to attract mates."

"You think I have that now?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Did you, perhaps, notice your female classmates?"

"I noticed Hermione kept giving me strange looks," he said. "I thought it was because of what you were doing to me."

"No, Master," she said. "All the girls in that class were having trouble concentrating on the lesson. Or rather, they were having difficulty not concentrating on you. Even your professor was affected."

"McGonagall?" he asked horrified. "I saw her looking at me before class started. I thought it was because she knew you were there."

That thought seemed to deflate him a bit, so she redoubled her efforts and added a slight up-and-down to her grinding. That recaptured his attention.

"So," she said after half a minute. "You'll need to practice so that you can perfect your new ability. Just think of all the willing and available pussy you could bring to your bed." She clenched on him when she said the word "pussy" as though to accentuate it.

He smiled up at her, his brain beginning to fog over with increasing lust and arousal.

"I think you're enough for me, Gabrielle," he said. "Or can I call you Gabby?"

"I will enjoy any name you wish to call me, Master," she said demurely. "I shall enjoy it twice as much if it's not my given name."

"You don't like 'Gabrielle'?"

"I love my name," she said. "But it's a name my parents gave me. Any other name you call me is a gift from my Master."

"Then 'Gabby' it shall be," he said. "Until I find something else sexier, or sluttier, or kinkier. . ."

She shivered as though in anticipation.

"Along the same lines, Master," she said as she increased her pace again and began bouncing on his cock in earnest. "While I would be perfectly happy to be always the one to serve you—fuck you—make you come, I would also greatly enjoy any others you wish to seduce and would see it as nothing but a gift from my Master if I was allowed to participate—" she gave an incredibly vigorous bounce, "—or watch—" another bounce, "—or listen—" another, "or even simply to experience your orgasms through the bond while you fuck someone unknown to me." His cock twitched and she came with a throaty cry. Her orgasm feeding back through the bond brought him near the edge and she continued to bounce rapidly on his cock.

"Master?" she asked inquiringly. "Will you warn be before you come? I've not yet tasted you and I would very much like to do so."

That thought was all he needed.

He had just enough time to grit out a "Now!" before he spasmed.

Like a gymnast, she twisted off his cock and onto her knees and got her mouth to his erection just as the first shot of come erupted from him.

Again, his orgasm set hers off and she held him steady with one hand and rubbed furiously at her slit with the other.

Even having just come not half an hour before, his orgasm was still quite powerful and potent. He managed to fill her mouth with his seed.

He looked over and noticed that her orgasm was equally powerful, her juices having run down her legs to puddle on the floor. The sight forced yet another twitch from his cock, though, completely spent, this spasm was dry.

She pulled her mouth off of him and seemed to relish the taste of his sperm before swallowing it with delight. "Master!" she exclaimed with obvious joy. "You're delicious!"

"I'm glad you think so."

As they weren't sure how much time they'd spent fucking and talking in the classroom and they knew that lunch was coming up, they decided to head back to Gryffindor tower. Harry put his robes back on, but at Gabby's request, he stuffed his boxers into his book-bag. The thought of him being naked under his robes kept her so excited that she fingered herself all the way back up to the tower. By the time they'd reached the portrait-hole, she had come twice, he was rock hard and trying to hide his arousal. Harry vowed to himself to never let her know that he was going without underwear again.

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .Having the Veela "Pull"

Harry had managed to stop Gabby's blatant semi-public masturbation by threatening her with refusing to do anything she asked of him for the rest of the day. She managed to look contrite.

"I can't help it, Master," she said plaintively. "The thought of you naked under that robe has me so aroused."

Harry looked down as she pulled her hand away, and to his chagrin, saw that the evidence of her arousal was dripping from her cleft and running down her legs. She had in fact left a little trail of it back along their path. Filch would be furious; Harry just hoped that it could never be traced back to him. He briefly wondered if the whole no-one-notices-Gabrielle thing would prevent him from seeing it; he was probably worrying over nothing.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, he failed to notice the smirk on her face as she brought her wet hand up and wafted it under his nose.

"Would my Master like a taste?" she teased with overacted innocence.

Impulsively, he grabbed her wrist and latched on to her fingers with his mouth, gently sucking her clean. The taste was indescribable; slightly sweet, slightly salty, very clean and pure. He found her delicious and remembered his promise he'd made to her in the shower that morning. He wondered if all girls tasted as good a she did.

"You, my dear," he said, "are. . ." He pretended to search for a word.

"Sexy?" she offered. "Randy? Insatiable? Tasty? Fuckable?"

"Yes you are."

He stepped up to the portrait of the fat lady and was about to give the password when the portrait opened from the inside.

"There you are," said Ron as he climbed out. "Just in time for lunch."

Hermione followed him out. Her eyes raked Harry up and down once appraisingly before she seemed to gather herself.

"Harry," she said, her voice a bit breathier than normal. "Are you all right? Did you take care of whatever it was you needed to do?"

Harry was unsure just what to do about the way Hermione was looking at him.

"Er, yeah," he said uncomfortably. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

"Well," said Ron. "Let's head to lunch."

Harry glanced at Gabby but didn't call attention to her. The inside of her legs were still shiny with her secretions. He should probably get her to dry herself off. He also wanted to put his boxers back on.

"I, er—" Harry fumbled for an excuse. "I just need to run up to the dorm for a minute. I need to get my book for Defense."

"OK," Ron said. "We'll wait for you, but hurry up."

Harry climbed through the hole, pulling Gabby along with him.

Up in the dorm, he grabbed the towel that she hadn't used that morning and quickly tossed it to her.

"Here," he said, hurriedly. "Clean yourself up a bit."

He opened his bag and pulled his boxers out. He opened his robe so that he could more easily put them on.

"Are you always going to be that messy?" he asked offhandedly. "You got that stuff all over the hall."

He pulled his boxers on and, hearing no answer, looked over at her. She was standing there, the towel dangling from one hand, not moving. She looked on the verge of tears. He froze, unsure of what to do.

"The bond is still new," she said tremulously, clearly fighting not to cry. Her eyes seemed fixed on the floor a few feet in front of him as though she were afraid to look up. "I don't know if I'll always—"

"Gabby," he interrupted gently. She stopped speaking immediately and looked up at him. He saw fear in her beautiful eyes. "What's the matter?"

She seemed to take a moment to decide what to say. When she spoke, her voice hitched. "Are you disappointed in me, Master?" she asked quietly.

That brought him up short. It felt to Harry as though all the air had just been violently sucked out of the room.

"What? No!" he said vehemently. "What made you think that?"

"I—" she said, but it was clearly difficult for her. She shook her head and tried to look away.

"Gabby, please tell me."

She stood there, with her fluids air drying on her legs and tears clinging to her eyelashes. She took a deep breath as though to steady herself and Harry's heart went out to her.

"Your voice," she began carefully; fearfully, "when you threw the towel at me and told me to clean myself off, it was. . .harsh. You said I was too messy. You sounded angry about what I did in the hall. . ." She trailed off, tears now silently falling down her cheeks.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and thought back to what he'd done and said since they'd entered the room. For a moment he was confused, he didn't know why she thought he was angry at her, then it occurred to him that he had been a bit curt with her, and he had tossed the towel rather harder than he'd meant to do. Replaying the events in his mind, with perhaps a little help from the bond, he realized exactly what he'd done and how she took it. He opened his arms to her as his expression changed from confusion to one of sadness, sympathy and regret.

She hesitated only a moment before dashing across the room, leaping into his lap and straddling him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her tightly into a hug and gave her a kiss on the side of her head as that was all he could reach.

"No, sweetie," he said soothingly and she shivered a bit at the term of endearment. "I wasn't disappointed with you or angry. This bond is new to me too, and having this attraction that it gave me. . . Well, let's just say it'll take some getting used to." She pulled back a bit and looked him in the eye as though asking him what he meant. "I wasn't quite prepared for Hermione's reaction out in the hall. She's been one of my best friends for nearly four years and to have her suddenly look like she wants to throw me down and have her way with me was. . . unexpected. When I said those things to you, I was mostly thinking about that"

She buried her head in back in his chest.

"So, you're not angry with me, Master?"

He stroked a hand down her smooth back and then tightened his hold on her small frame. She tightened her grip as well and hunched her waist forward pressing herself as close as possible to him.

"No," he said. "Of course not. I'm so sorry that I made you think I was." She seemed to melt as all the tension left her body. "At the moment, I don't think I could ever be angry or disappointed in you."

He pulled back a bit and got her to look him in the eye.

"Tell you what," he said brightly. "Since I'm new at the bonding thing, and, well, boy-girl stuff in general, if I do anything like that again, just assume that it's not anything you did and it's me being stupid about something, because that's what it probably is. OK?"

She bit her lip and searched his eyes thoroughly before she nodded, smiling. She leaned up and gave him a kiss before leaning her head back into his chest, soaking in the comfort from her Master.

"I am unused to the bond, Master," she said after a few moments. "I might not always be so. . .messy."

"I hope you are."

She looked up at him inquisitively.

"I do," he defended. "I don't know what I was thinking before. Seeing you dripping with anticipation. . . Seeing you so obviously aroused by me. It excites me like you wouldn't believe."

She giggled a bit, clearly feeling better.

"Yes I would," she argued. "When I see or feel your hardness and know that it's from me, it's almost enough to make me come."

She wiggled her bare bottom as though to prove her point.

The door burst open and Ron stood on the landing. There was a moment as he looked between Harry and the naked girl in his arms and back.

"I thought you were getting your Defense book." he said impatiently. "Are you coming?"

"Sorry, Ron," he said. "Just a bit of a misunderstanding. You and Hermione go on ahead. I'll catch you up."

"All right," Ron said, and the door was closed again.

Harry and Gabrielle just held each other in the silence that followed. After a minute Harry gently asked, "Are we OK now?"

Gabby pulled back a bit and looked at him. There were still traces of tears lining her eyes but there was no sign of sadness in her face.

"Yes," she said. "I'm sorry that I—"

He stopped her with a finger on her lips.

"It was a misunderstanding," he said. "And I contributed far more to it than you did. I'm sorry. It's behind us now, yeah?"

"Yes, Master," she said coquettishly. "May I go wash my face?"

He nodded and she extricated herself from his lap and dashed for the door.

Harry started to refasten his robes but stopped. He pulled his boxers back off then finished doing up his robes.

As they walked through the castle on the way to join Ron and Hermione, Gabby told him that she just remembered something she'd forgotten to tell him about the "pull".

"If it really is the same as the Veela 'pull', it's always there," she said. "But you can control it. Normally, it's spread out everywhere; every male—or in your case, female—will feel it equally. However, with practice, you can learn to focus it. You can narrow it down to a single person or a group. You can also focus it away from someone, but I understand that it's harder to do that. Only you mentioned that the—effect—you had on your friend. . ."

"Hermione," he supplied.

"Yes, you said Hermione's reaction to you made you uncomfortable."

He nodded. "It's good information to have. I'll have to practice it," he said. "Maybe you'll help me?"

She slumped a little.

"I don't think I'll be much help, Master," she said sadly. "I'm too young to have the 'pull' so I don't really know how to focus it. And you can't practice on me, because, as your bonded, I'm immune."

"Immune?" he asked.

"Well, it might be better to say you can't focus it away from me. I'm always pulled to you."

"Cheeky," he said.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, while they were still quite alone, Harry informed her of the fact that he'd left his boxers in the dorm.

She looked up at him with wide eyes and a smile and when he winked at her, she teared up again and thanked him profusely. As they approached the door to the Great Hall, he finally understood her extreme reaction. It wasn't the fact that he was naked under his robes, it was that he was naked under his robes for her.

He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "Nothing's too good for you, my pet," he whispered.

They entered the Hall and Harry found himself fighting with his embarrassment; amidst the utter normality of lunch at Hogwarts, he was suddenly acutely aware of Gabrielle's very naked presence. Hoping his face wasn't too red, he found Ron and Hermione and he and Gabby took seats across from them.

It was quickly apparent that Hermione must have seen Harry hug Gabby through the door. She spent several minutes studying the younger girl with an inscrutable look on her face. Gabby seemed completely unconcerned, but Harry found that it brought her state of dress, or rather undress, to the forefront of his mind.

As they ate and all but Gabby chatted away about inconsequential things—homework, lessons, Quidditch and the like—his bond-mate carefully snaked her hand over and rested it on Harry's thigh. He couldn't say anything because he didn't want to draw any more attention to the naked Veela, but also because he was incredibly aroused and didn't want her to remove it. When it started creeping toward his crotch, he began to find it difficult to pay any more than the most rudimentary attention to wherever the conversation happened to be going.

Ron rambled about how bad the Cannons were doing this year and her hand shifted a few millimetres.

Hermione made some comment about what they'd studied in Transfiguration that morning and Gabby's hand moved a bit more.

Ron asked him some question about the Merpeople in the lake and how they reacted to something Harry had done yesterday and the hand inched a bit further.

Harry tried to answer Ron's question but he wasn't sure the answer made any sense at all.

Suddenly, Gabrielle's hand was grasping him through his robes. He was like iron.

Hermione looked suspiciously from Gabby to Harry and back but said nothing. Harry risked a glance over to the girl next to him to find her gazing up at him lustfully. She licked her lips lasciviously and his cock twitched in her hand.

The next second, Gabby had ducked under the table, paying no heed to the fact that Hermione was watching both like a hawk. As the girl vanished, Hermione looked back to Harry with one raised eyebrow and an expression that seemed to say, "Care to explain this?"

Harry couldn't have answered if he'd wanted to as by that time, the girl had wormed her way between his legs and up under his robes. A split second later and his cock was engulfed in a warm, wet mouth.

Harry gritted his teeth and bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out. The danger, the thrill of possible discovery, the sheer blatancy of the act heightened every sensation.

Harry shoved a bit of food into his mouth and pretended to chew in the hope that no one would talk to him if he was eating.

The suction on his cock was heavenly. She bobbed her head and swirled her tongue and drove him toward ecstasy in the midst of hundreds of oblivious Hogwarts students. He flashed on her words to him the night before (had it only been last night?) about losing control and fucking in front of everyone in the Great Hall. That thought was coincidentally accompanied by a particularly vigorous bob of her head and his cock throbbed dangerously.

He fought to keep a straight face, but it was all he could do to keep from moaning.

Hermione got his attention; he realized he'd been staring into the space between his best friends for who knew how long.

"Are you all right, Harry?" she asked. "You've been acting a bit strange all day."

Hermione had clearly forgotten that she'd seen a naked girl disappear under the table minutes before. The fact that somewhere, in the back of her mind was the suppressed knowledge that Gabrielle Delacour was under the table and that if she somehow remembered that she would instantly be able to work out what the girl was doing there had Harry fighting to control his impending orgasm.

In as steady a voice as he could manage, he ground out, "I'm fine, Her—mione." He could only hope that she would ignore the hesitation in the middle of her name that had been caused by a sudden, involuntary intake of breath.

Gabby's mouth worked his cock expertly. He realized she wasn't using her hands, though, just her mouth. It was an obvious attempt to prolong the act and heighten the intensity of his inevitable climax. He suddenly wished he had the girl's ability to be unnoticed; he would never be able to remain silent when he finally came. He wondered wildly if he could somehow hold out until all the students left for their afternoon classes so that it wouldn't be quite so public. Unfortunately, he was sure that there was at least half an hour still left till the end of lunch.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione continued. "You look a bit flushed again."

Some fraction of Harry's focus was drawn away from the wonderful sensations emanating from just under the table to the witch across from him. Had they been speaking? Were they having a conversation? What was she talking about?

"Perhaps it was your trip in the lake yesterday," she pressed. "It might be best if you go see the nurse."

She thought he was flushed because of his trip into the lake. The absurdity of just how right she was was not lost on Harry and his sudden desire to laugh nearly cost him his control.

He became aware that he was gripping his fork so tightly that he would be surprised if he hadn't bent it.

Gabrielle had started going deeper, his cock was banging against the back of her throat with every stroke. Harry suppressed a primal grunt that threatened to tear it's way out of his lungs.

"You do look a bit flushed, Harry," came a voice two seats down from Ron. Lavender Brown was looking at him with concern and perhaps a hint of lust. Parvatti, sitting next to her, was staring at Harry with a look on her face that said not only had she forgiven him for the abysmal date they'd shared at the Yule Ball without him having to apologize for it, but that she'd like nothing more than another evening alone with him.

Harry gulped, partially from the looks the two girls were sending his way, partially from the sensations he was receiving from a third and partially from the realization that, Lavender and Parvatti and most likely any number of girls were focused solely on him and he was moments from coming.

"No really," he said, doing his best to keep the fact that he was nearly gasping with pleasure from being completely obvious. "I'm fine."

Gabrielle's movements were becoming more insistent. The motions of her tongue were driving him to the very edge.

"Are you sure?" came a voice from Ron and Hermione's other side. It was a third year girl who's name he didn't even know. Out of the corner of his eye, he also noticed Hanna Abbot, Susan Bones, Megan Jones and three or four other girls from other years at the Hufflepuff table watching him intently.

"Positive," he managed. His breath was coming faster now and the fear that he might pass out from hyperventilation flitted across his mind.

He made another attempt at getting food to his mouth and pretending to eat, but he couldn't seem to coordinate his fork enough to actually collect any on it.

He was so close now, and the gentle twisting motion that Gabby had added to her movements aided in bringing him to new heights of pleasure. This climax was going to be his strongest yet. There was no way he would be able to keep silent. He was going to cry out. It was going to be obvious to everyone in the Great Hall that Harry Potter was having an unbelievably intense orgasm.

He had the wild urge to call out Gabrielle's name just to attract everyone's attention to her. The thought of everyone knowing just what was happening and who was doing it was almost too erotic to bear.

His cock twitched mightily.

All those girls focused on him: Lavender, Parvatti, Hanna, Susan, Hermione. . .

Gabby stroked and swirled her tongue.

The pressure in his balls built with his impending release.

The muscles in his stomach tightened and he braced himself on the table in front of him. He couldn't keep himself from glancing around.

Parvatti's wide, lust-filled eyes. . .

Lavender licking her lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with the food in front of her.

The pressure built—Gabrielle licked and sucked.

Hermione's nose flared and Harry imagined that part of her remembered Gabby's presence and, so, was aware of the smell of sex drifting up from under the table. Perhaps Gabby had bumped into Hermione's legs while she was down there and that was all it took to bring the memory up.

Gabrielle's smooth, wet tongue glided along the underside of his throbbing erection.

Three seats down from Hermione, that third year girl looked as though she was undressing him with her eyes. Harry noticed her trying to be inconspicuous as her right hand moved unobtrusively beneath the table and he realized with a jolt that she was discretely rubbing herself.

Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes. It took all his strength and willpower to remain silent as he exploded into Gabby's mouth. Pleasure radiated out from his groin so intense that even his hands and feet tingled. Involuntarily, his hips gently thrust forward a bit with each pulse of his cock. His mind was blissfully blank.

The orgasm seemed to go on forever. He heard something, but his brain failed to process it—it sounded as nothing more than a buzzing in his ears.

Pulse, pulse, pulse, the orgasm continued. Despite his closed eyes, he knew that every one of those girls that had been watching him before, were now seeing him come without knowing it. Or perhaps they could tell and it was arousing them as well. Maybe that third-year came when he did. The thought gave his erupting prick an extra powerful throb.

Finally, the pleasure receded a bit and the contractions at the base of his cock slowed. He risked opening his eyes. As the orgasm faded, he realized the buzzing sound that his brain had registered was Hermione trying to get his attention.

"Harry. Harry!" she said quietly but insistently. She was eyeing him with concern. "I think you really should go to the hospital wing."

Under the table, Gabby finished sucking the last of his come out and slurped off his cock.

"I'm all right," he said, his voice now a bit steadier, though perhaps gruffer than normal. His breathing was slowing now. "Just didn't sleep very well last night."

Amazingly, this seemed to mollify her.

Gabrielle slipped out from between his legs and popped back up into the seat she'd vacated earlier as though she'd just sneaked down to pick up a dropped napkin or errant spoon. Harry took a bite of food to make Hermione happy and glanced over at the little vixen sitting next to him. She was using her finger to scrape a bit of his come that had escaped back into her mouth. Her eyes were glassy. His shifted his attention over to Hermione, wondering if she still noticed Gabby, but she had clearly forgotten the girl. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

He glanced over at Lavender and Parvatti; they were whispering conspiratorially with each other, then Lavender looked over at him and giggled.

He looked back over at the third-year girl. She was worrying her bottom lip and her head was down in an attempt to hide the fact that her face was very red; Harry could see her eyes darting around and when they found that he was looking in her direction, they stopped, widened for a moment and quickly shifted down to rest on her plate. She appeared to try to make herself grow smaller. He found himself smirking as he realized that she most likely did have that orgasm. The thought made his pulse quicken and he briefly wondered if perhaps she would like the idea of a repeat performance. . . .Or more.

After lunch was over, the four of them trekked up the stairs toward the third floor and Defense Against the Dark Arts. As they reached the first floor landing, however, a voice from below stopped them.

"Monsieur Potter," Mrs. Delacour called out. "Per'aps I could 'ave a moment of your time?"

Ron and Hermione seemed reluctant to let him go off alone with her but he convinced them it would be all right. In truth, though, he hadn't given this meeting any thought, despite the fact that he should have realized it's inevitability. He found himself suddenly nervous and as he walked back down the stairs and he felt his palms begin to sweat. Assuming this conversation was likely to be very awkward, he motioned Gabby's mother into an unused ground floor classroom for a bit of privacy.

How would she take the news that her daughter was bound to him, he wondered. Surely that would mean she would realize what it was they had been doing. How would she take the knowledge of the kind of bond he shared with her little girl? How could she be anything but fiercely angry with him—as only a mother can be—the moment she discovered that her daughter would likely follow him around in the nude for the rest of her life?

He suddenly wondered if privacy was what he wanted. Unfortunately, the door was now closing behind him and he knew that any attempt to postpone this conversation now would be impossible. He mentally prepared himself for anything.

"Monsieur Potter," she said again, "I was 'oping you could tell me where my daughter is." He heard no accusation in her voice, merely a quiet acceptance and near certainty that she had come to the right person.

Gabrielle took his hand in hers in comfort and support but out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she was nervous too.

Harry tried to reply, but the best he could manage was to squeak out, "Your daughter?"

"Oui, Monsieur Potter," she said. "She and I were scheduled to return to France zis morning but I awoke to find zat she was not in 'er room or anywhere in our guest quarters. And I 'ave reason to believe she would seek you out."

Instead of answering the question, he found himself surprised by her last statement.

"You do?"

"Naturellement," she said. "I could not 'elp but notice ze changes in 'er after ze. . . regrettable évènement of yesterday."

Gabby leaned up to his ear and whispered, "regrettable event," translating the French words she knew he didn't understand.

"I believe zat your 'eroic rescue of my daughter may 'ave. . . attracted 'er to you. Also ze fact zat I can feel your 'pull' tells me zat somezing 'as 'appened between ze two of you."

Surprisingly, Harry still heard no malice in her voice, only a calm assuredness. He glanced at the girl next to him and saw her give the briefest of nods. He took a steadying breath and used the had she was still holding to urge her a bit toward her mother.

"She's here," he said simply.

Mrs. Delacour's eyes darted down to the nude form of her daughter and widened a bit. Then Gabby released his hand and she and her mother embraced.

After a moment, she held her daughter out at arms length and studied her.

"Comment vas-tu, ma chérie?" she asked.

"I'm fine, mother," Gabrielle said patiently. "But I am not yours any longer." She looked over her shoulder at Harry. "I'm his," she finished.

"Bien sûr," her mother said understandingly. "Tu lui appartiens peut être, mais tu seras toujours ma chérie."

"Maman, English," she chided. "My Master doesn't understand French."

Mrs. Delacour seemed to tense a bit at the word "Master" but she nodded and smiled at her daughter before turning her gaze to him.

"Of course," she said. "My apologies. My English is not good. It is easier to speak to my daughter in French but it was rude of me."

Uncomfortable, Harry found that he could only nod in understanding.

"So," she said after studying Harry before turning back to her daughter. "Master? It is not ze normal bond zen?"

"No," Gabby admitted quietly. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"Of course not," she said soothingly, gathering her daughter back into a hug and looking at Harry appraisingly again. "I zink I saw ze kind of man your 'Master' is during ze task: ze kind of man 'oo would risk 'imself to ensure ze safety of ozzers. Ze bond will only make 'im want to protect you more. Just tell me one zing Gabrielle," she said turning back to her daughter.

Gabby looked up from the hug expectantly.

"Are you 'appy?" her mother asked.

The radiant smile would have been all the answer her mother needed, but she responded anyway.

"More than I could have thought possible," she proclaimed happily. She looked over at Harry positively flushed with affection. "I feel complete. It's like I found a part of myself I didn't know I was missing. You must know how it feels," she said to her mother.

"Not yet," she said wistfully. "But per'aps one day I will. Zough, I doubt I would choose ze bond you 'ave. I am pleased zat you are 'appy, 'owever." She released Gabby and approached Harry.

"I trust I am leaving 'er in good 'ands?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," he said.

"You can provide for 'er?" she asked.

He nodded. "I will do everything in my power to make sure she stays safe and happy, Mrs. Delacour," he said.

She gave him a hug. "Monsieur Potter—" she began then continued in a gentler tone. "'Arry, we are as close to family as it is possible to be. Please call me Apolline. You may even call me as Gabrielle does if you wish." She released Harry from her embrace, gave her daughter another hug and kissed her on the cheek. "Je t'aime," she said.

"Je t'aime aussi, maman," Gabby replied. "Toujours."

"Ze two of you must come to France zis summer," she said to them. "I would like to get to know ze man 'oo is now my new son."

"I think I'd like that, A—Apolline," he said, stumbling on her first name a bit. "And I'm sure that Gabby would."

"'Gabby'?" Gabrielle's mother seemed surprised. "I zought you did not like 'Gabby'."

"Only when anyone but my Master calls me that," she said defiantly. She smiled at Harry as though to say that she really did like him to call her Gabby.

After Apolline left, Harry and Gabby raced up to the third floor and Defense Against the Dark Arts. The bell rang when they were on their way so Professor Moody docked Gryffindor 5 points when Harry walked in late.

The double period passed uneventfully with Gabrielle standing dutifully next to Harry. For the most part she let him work, but occasionally did little things like lick his ear or caress his cheek with her fingertips when she thought she could get away with it.

Harry, during idle moments when Professor Moody was helping someone else, tried his hand at controlling the "pull". He thought he might have made Lisa Turpin feel it enough to look up at him but, as he was trying to aim it at Padma Patil who was sitting next to her, he couldn't be sure that it wasn't just a coincidence.

After class, Moody held Harry back. When Ron and Hermione made noises about waiting for him, Moody shooed them off to dinner.

"Potter's a big boy," he growled. "I think he can find his own way down to the Gryffindor table, don't you?" He pulled out his hip flask and took a drink. Ron and Hermione grudgingly left saying that they'd see him when he got down there..

Moody it transpired, wanted to talk about the tournament. He asked Harry about some of the things that happened under the lake, wanted to know how he fared with the Merpeople and practically demanded to know what he was thinking rescuing the "little French girl". Harry wanted to rush to Gabrielle's defense, but as he was being drilled by the scarred professor, he'd watched in fascination as that magical eye of his alternated between staring at Harry and spinning randomly in all directions likely looking for possible threats. He shuddered to think what would happen if he called enough attention to her that, at least from Moody's point of view, the naked little girl suddenly appeared right before him.

Harry answered his questions to the best of his abilities and the professor dismissed him. Harry could feel that electric blue eye on him all the way out the door.

They had descended a floor and gone down several hallways before Gabby commented that she could feel how tense he was. He explained to her in a quiet voice that the former Auror would likely react poorly if he ever suddenly noticed her.

"The last thing in the world I want," Harry said, "is to see you hurt."

Her mouth curled in a sultry grin.

"Unless you're the one doing the hurting," she said. Harry looked at her questioningly so she pressed on. "Some day, I'd like to see if you can make me come by torturing my nipples the way you do."

Harry's cock stirred at the though and he wrapped his arm around her bare shoulders, giving her a smile that promised he would before turning serious. "I might cause you pain," he said. "The most delicious, erotic, sexy kind of pain—but I hope I never hurt you. You understand that, right?"

The look on her face told him that she did indeed know what he meant and that she would like nothing more at the moment than to show him her thanks most affectionately.

At that moment, however, there was a noise from a short distance in front of them like a sudden intake of breath.

Startled, Harry looked away from Gabrielle to the source of the sound to find that second-year Gryffindor Victoria Frobisher had just come out of an adjoining hallway and was looking at the two of them. For one moment, due to his surprise, Harry was completely focused on his house-mate. She grunted, her knees buckled and she hit the floor. Harry rushed up to her, concerned that there was something wrong, Gabby right behind him.

He gathered the girl in his arms and shifted her around so that he could see her face. She was flushed, her eyes were glassy, she was breathing so fast she was practically panting and she whimpered occasionally.

"Vicky," he said trying to get a response from the girl. "Are you OK? Is there something wrong?"

She just looked back at him as though she were seeing right through him. She moaned and jerked a bit in his arms.

"I think we need to get her to the hospital wing," he said to Gabby, not caring if Vicky noticed her or not; this was an emergency! "Did someone attack you?" he asked the stricken girl.

She whimpered again but managed to shake her head falteringly. She seemed uncoordinated and Harry was unsure if she was really coherent enough to understand what he was asking. He had to help her.

At that moment, she moaned and jerked again. Had it been any stronger, Harry would have called it a convulsion. He was sure there was something dreadfully wrong with her.

He felt Gabrielle's hand on his shoulder.

"Master," she said gently, but Harry wasn't listening.

"We need to get her to the hospital wing," he said desperately.

"Master," she repeated more insistently.

He looked up at her. "What is it?" he asked.

"Just ignore her for a moment," she said calmly.

"What?" he asked, confused. Didn't she realize that there was something seriously wrong? "We have to help her. She could be injured."

"She'll be fine, Master," Gabby said, still very calm. The soothing tone of her voice was beginning to calm Harry's nerves a bit. "Just ignore her for a moment. Focus on me."

Harry pulled his eyes away from the girl in his arms and looked at the one by his side. She was staring intensely back at him. For a moment, he nearly lost himself in her gaze despite the urgency of the situation.

As the seconds passed, he felt Vicky slowly relax. He looked back down at her to find her no longer in apparent distress, but staring back up at him with the same look that he'd seen during lunch on the faces of all those girls.

The next second, she had leaned in and planted her lips on his. It took only a moment for him to recover from his shock and return the kiss with equal ardour.

Her tongue found his and she moaned into his mouth. Their arms held each other, hands roaming, exploring, caressing.

Without warning she bolted upright and, for an instant, Harry thought it was over. But she seized his his hand and pulled him into the adjacent classroom, Gabby following along in their wake, remembering to grab both student's book-bags. The moment they were inside, she'd closed the door and nearly ripped at his robes in an effort to get them off of him. Harry barely had the presence of mind to lock and silence the door.

Once she had his robes off, her eyes widened and she groaned. Apparently, she had not expected him to be naked underneath. She was upon him in a moment and they returned to kissing passionately. She reached down, took him in her hand and began stroking him to hardness.

Gabrielle managed to reach in between them and begin unfastening the catches on her robes. The going was slow as she was fighting just to reach them, but one by one, they popped open. Harry wasn't helping as he had his arms around Vicky, pulling her close to him as though he sought to merge with her, which, he supposed, in a way, he did.

They broke the kiss and Vicky groaned again as Harry trailed little kisses and licks along her cheek to her ear and then down her neck.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she moaned. "That feels lovely!"

Now Gabrielle had managed to get the girl's robes open and was attempting to pull them off but meeting resistance as Vicky's arms were still busy, one hand on massaging his bum and the other stroking his now tumescent shaft.

"Master," Gabby said petulantly, "I would love to strip this wanton slut for you—" Vicky moaned again upon hearing Gabby's term for her. "—but she's just not cooperating."

Harry grabbed her arms and moved them to the girl's sides. Gabby latched on to her robes and yanked them down as far as she could. When Harry let go, Vicky finished the process, by pulling her arms out of the sleeves so that she could return one hand to Harry's prick. The other hand, he noticed, went straight for the crotch of her transparently wet knickers. Under her robes, she wore only a thin, pale green vest with thin straps and the aforementioned knickers in white cotton. On her feet, she wore ankle socks under powder blue and white trainers.

Harry's hands found pleasant features of her anatomy to explore; one hand found her hip and upper thigh, the other, one of her breasts. It was a novel experience for him, having never felt a breast before. They were tiny, an A-cup in his uneducated opinion—in reality a double-A-cup—but they were there. He marvelled at the pliant flesh just under her vest; she wore no bra, not really needing one.

Slipping one side under Harry's groping hand easily, Gabby pulled the girl's knickers down to her feet, though Vicky was apparently unaware of that fact and so didn't bother to step out of them. The vest presented her with something of a problem, however, as the position of Vicky's arms, not to mention Harry's hand manipulating the girl's barely pubescent chest, prevented all but a few inches of movement.

Vicky released his cock and ran both hands up his back, pulling him closer. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around him, capturing his hardness up against her arousal-slicked sex. Harry growled and shifted his hips so that his erection was dragged along her cleft. She squealed at the movement and clung to him.

Gabrielle was becoming desperate. Wanting nothing more at the moment than to get the girl's shirt off, she finally just grabbed what she could of it and, with all her Veela strength, pulled. It stretched a moment and then, with the sound of rending fabric, ripped free. Vicky cried out from the suddenness and perhaps a bit of pain from where the garment dug cruelly into her delicate skin before tearing.

Vicky seemed to suddenly become aware that she was nude save her shoes. She pushed Harry back until he finally understood what she wanted and allowed her to manoeuvre him onto his back. She was astride him in no time, lifting herself up and positioning him at her sopping entrance. With a determined and lustful look, she began lowering herself onto him. Harry was curious about the tearing sensation he felt as he slid into her depths, but she didn't even pause her descent so he assumed that she was all right.

By now, Gabby had discarded the ruined garment and made her way over to her Master and the girl with whom he was currently coupling. She moaned as she felt Harry's pleasure trickle through the bond as he entered the girl. She knelt next to them and took one of the girl's petite breasts in her mouth, kissing and sucking and lavishing the hard little nipple with attention from her tongue. Vicky groaned, whether it was from the homage being paid her developing boob by the girl dressed in the choker or from the feeling of being penetrated by hard male flesh for the first time, only she knew.

Harry was in heaven. Even though older, the girl currently sinking down onto him was tighter than his Gabby. He became concerned that she might injure herself in her desire to be fully penetrated. He grabbed her hips and tried to slow her progress.

"Easy," he told her. "Take your time."

She didn't seem to listen. She just kept sinking on him, millimetre by millimetre.

Harry watched in amazement as Gabby licked and sucked one of the girls breasts before moving to the other. He found that he could reach between her legs so he plunged two fingers into her wet slit. Her cry of pleasure was muffled by Vicky's flesh and she bit down on the girl's right nipple. The Gryffindor girl screamed in pleasure and dropped the rest of the way down. She moaned in pain and ecstasy and the suddenness of the invasion.

Harry began fucking his fingers in and out of Gabby's cunt. After a moment to adjust to the full loss of her virginity, Victoria began fucking herself on his cock. She started with small movements, little more than grinding, but within seconds, she was driving herself down on him and Harry was thrusting up to meet her, the sounds of their wet, slapping flesh filling the room.

"Oh, God, Vicky," exclaimed Harry, "that feels so good."

He added a third finger to Gabrielle's pussy and she squealed in delight. She began raking her teeth over Vicky's breasts, trying in vain to catch and bite the nipples on the bouncing girl. Vicky grabbed Gabby's head and pulled her closer, adding pressure to her scraping teeth. Her head went back and her eyes closed. Harry noticed.

"You like what Gabrielle is doing to you?" he asked his house-mate.

She looked down at him.

"Oh—gods yes!" she said as she bounced. "She can—do this to—me any time."

Harry used the hand not currently plunging into Gabby and stroked around Vicky's slit. He found her little nubbin and seized it, pinching. She cried out and came. Her pace slowed a bit and each of her thrusts impacted Harry harder, but she did not stop.

Gabrielle stopped teasing her breasts and sought the girl's mouth in a kiss. She managed to bring the girl to a stop and pushed her onto her back. Harry got onto his knees between the her legs, lifted her by the hips and plunged back into her centre. Gabby leant over the girl and kissed her again. From this angle, he could see their tongues dancing around and he growled at the sight and thrust harder. He tried to move his hand back to Gabby's folds, but Vicky either didn't want to, or couldn't, hold herself up so Harry had to keep both hands on her hips to support her.

When their kiss ended, Gabby began trailing her tongue down along the girl's body—her jaw, her neck, her chest, her delicate breasts. . .

She licked and sucked Vicky's bellybutton for a while before moving on down. When she reached the spot where Harry was vigorously plunging into her, she found her clit and gave it a lick. Vicky howled and thrust up to meet her, nearly forcing Harry's cock from inside her.

After they'd readjusted and Harry resumed his strokes, Gabby crawled up to look Vicky in the eye.

"That was naughty," she said, finding one of Vicky's nipples and twisting it painfully; the girl moaned, either in pleasure or pain or both. "You broke my Master's rhythm." She trailed her fingers lightly across to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment. "I think you're going to have to be punished."

Gabby reached down and found her most sensitive area, this time with her fingers. When she attempted to rise up and add to the pressure, Gabby's hand forced her to remain at the same height.

"Naughty," the Veela said. She seized the girl's clit and pinched it.

"Aaahhh," the second-year cried incoherently.

"Naughty," she repeated, this time twisting it.

"Ooohhh," she moaned.

Harry continued thrusting away, plundering the girls depths, entranced by the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Naughty," Gabby said finally. This time she slapped her pussy.

Vicky came, grunting like an animal.

When her orgasm subsided, Gabby was right in her face.

"You liked that, didn't you, slut?" she asked.

Victoria hesitated, but nodded.

"Well, maybe you'll like this too," she said. Then she got on her knees and straddled the Gryffindor's face, lowering her cunt to the girl's mouth. For a time, Harry thought nothing was happening, then Gabrielle moaned and fell forward onto her hands. Harry could see the second-year's tongue lapping at the Veela's folds. The sight nearly drove him over the edge.

He managed to manoeuvre his hands so that he could massage Vicky's clit with his thumb as he fucked her. It was no more than thirty seconds before he saw her stop licking and cry out in orgasm again. After coming down from her sexual high, she went right back to licking the younger girls bald twat.

Harry continued pounding and massaging. He could feel pleasure trickling through the bond from Gabby, heightening his enjoyment.

He was nearing his orgasm now. Another minute or two and he would be there.

He moved his left hand farther under Vicky to better support her and with his right hand, he tugged on the sparse pubic hair growing at the top of the girl's slit. She moaned, so he pulled harder. This girl seems to enjoy pain, he thought as she moaned again. He knew Gabby did to some extent, but it seemed an even bigger turn-on for Vicky.

He pulled harder, actually lifting the skin at the top of her sex. She moaned louder and the rhythm of her licking faltered a bit. He pulled again, this time hard enough that the hair pulled free. As it did, her head lifted an inch and she screamed into Gabby's delicate flesh in yet another orgasm.

That was all it took. Harry tipped over the edge and spilled himself inside his house-mates cunt. The pleasure rushing through the bond, added to the sensation of the girl screaming into her pussy, pushed Gabby into her climax as well. For several seconds, the trio wallowed in their mutual orgasm before finally collapsing in a heap.

After basking in the afterglow for a few minutes, Gabby was the first one to recover. She retrieved the two sets of robes, handed Vicky hers and helped Harry put his on. Then she found Vicky's knickers and ruined vest and gave them back to the girl. Vicky absent-mindedly placed her vest in her bag and looked at her soaked knickers in something of a daze. She looked at Harry and smiled and handed them to him.

"You keep them," she said. "I have plenty more." She stood, pulling her robes on as she did. As an afterthought, she added, "And you can earn them any time you want."

Harry gave her a lecherous grin as they fastened up their robes.

"You had best be careful, Miss Frobisher," he said. "If you make offers like that, someone might just take you up on them."

"Mmmm, I certainly hope so," she said wistfully.

They left the room together and headed for the Great Hall to catch the end of dinner. They wound up parting ways before long as Vicky was walking a bit gingerly.

Once they were alone, Harry asked Gabby what happened in the hall.

"You focused on her, Master," she said. Harry didn't get it and asked what she meant.

"When she startled us, you focused on her. Completely. Your 'pull' was entirely focused on her."

Harry was stunned at the implications.

"When you focused your 'pull' on her and only her, she came. That's why she collapsed."

Harry suddenly realized. "So when I was holding her in the hall and she kept shuddering. . ."

"She was coming. Repeatedly."

"God, no wonder she was so wet."

Gabby nodded.

"You, Master, are going to be dangerous, once you gain control of that," she said with barely restrained excitement.

Harry had a lot to think about during dinner.

A/N I don't think it really needs it (as it's not critical to the story and also since it's from Harry's point of view and he doesn't understand it), but since it has almost become tradition to translate foreign languages in the author's notes, I shall oblige:

naturellement—naturally

regrettable évènement—regrettable event, exactly what Gabby says it means.

comment vas-tu—how are you

ma chérie—my dear

bien sûr—of course

tu lui appartiens peut être, mais tu seras toujours ma chérie—you may belong to him, but you will always be "ma chérie". (This is the only thing I had to look up as the memories of my decades old high school French classes are fading. If there are any French speakers out there who want to tell me I did a horrible job of translating and correct me, be my guest.)

maman—mama

Je t'aime—I love you

aussi—also

toujours—always or forever. Literally, it's a joining of two words that mean "all days"

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .A Lack of Quidditch

After the demonstration of what his "pull" was capable of in the hallway with Vicky, Harry spent dinner trying to learn some conscious control over it by focusing on certain girls. To his frustration, however, he couldn't seem to affect it at all.

Once dinner was over, Harry—trailing Gabby, of course—Ron and Hermione retired to the common room to work on their homework. Gabby contented herself by simply sitting on the arm of Harry's chair and leaning against him while he worked, Ron was frantically trying to finish the Potions essay that was due the next day, Harry got an early start on the Transfiguration assignment they were given that morning and Hermione—

Hermione, sitting in an armchair that faced Harry's, seemed to be doing her level best to keep her eyes fixed to her Charms book, but nearly every time Harry glanced in her direction she seemed to have just quickly looked away from him.

After he saw her eyes dart away the third time, he divided his attention between reading for his essay and attempting to gain control over his "pull" by trying to focus it off of Hermione. Unfortunately, he had just as much success as he'd had with it at dinner.

By the time the common room started to empty as students shuffled off to bed, Harry was wondering if it would help Hermione if he just told her about everything: the bond, Gabrielle, his new-found ability. Perhaps if she were consciously aware that what was affecting her was magically induced, she might be more easily able to put it aside. Then again, she might not take the fact that something that Harry was doing was manipulating her, even if it wasn't something he was able to control.

In the end, he reckoned that even if he did tell her, she'd likely forget about it the first time he was out of her sight.

That raised some interesting questions in Harry's mind, though. How much would people forget? If he told them about the bond would they be able to remember it? Would they perhaps remember that he was bonded but constantly forget to whom? What if he decided he wanted people to notice Gabby was around? Was she condemned to a life of constantly being overlooked? What if something happened to him? Would she just fade into obscurity, never to be noticed by anyone again? Or if the worst happened—if he died—would she be released from the bond or would it drag her down along with him? Would she die if he died? Or worse yet, would she survive only to slowly wither away from the loss of her bond-mate?

Perhaps sensing his mood, she leaned into him and rubbed his back providing comfort. He glanced at her and she gestured with her head towards the stairs. He understood perfectly. Announcing that it was late and that he was tired, he and Gabby retreated to his bed. There, surrounded by drawn and silenced curtains, they slowly and tenderly made love to each other. For that's what it was, he realized happily—less than twenty-four hours before, she was seducing him in that very bed—now, he was completely and totally in love with her. And he couldn't imagine himself more pleased, content or fortunate.

The next morning, they both woke early. They lay in bed, holding each other and talking. Gabrielle tried to ease some of his concerns that had arisen in his mind the night before.

"I don't know what will happen if you die, Master," she said. "There simply isn't enough known about this type of bond. With the marriage bond, when one partner dies the bond doesn't kill the other so it's likely that it won't happen to us either."

"But if something does happen to me and you're OK, will you ever be noticed again?" he asked, a bit horrified by the thought that she wouldn't.

She smiled comfortingly. "Don't forget, Master, that I can call attention to myself too. That's why I'm quiet when we're in public, so people won't notice me."

He frowned a little in confusion.

"Why, though?" he asked. "You said that if someone does notice you that they won't see it as being out of the ordinary, right?"

She nodded.

"So. . ." He didn't quite know how to put it.

"Why do I try not to call attention to myself?"

"Yeah."

"Master, just because the people that notice me don't find my presence unusual," she said carefully, "doesn't mean that they're not aware that I'm naked."

He considered what she'd said for a moment.

"But last night with Vicky," he said, "and yesterday with Ron. And I think Hermione noticed you at lunch."

"Master," she said with the tone of one pointing out the obvious, "do you really expect me to have had any problem being naked with you and Vicky whilst the three of us were fucking?"

He took the point.

"But Ron and Hermione?"

"When Ron saw me the first time, I was embarrassed," she said. "I don't think you noticed because you were too busy forgetting how to speak."

He blushed a bit at the memory.

"The second time he noticed me, I was more concerned about. . . other things."

"Oh," he said quietly, remembering their misunderstanding and wishing it had never happened.

"Hermione did notice me at lunch," she said slyly. "That's part of why I did what I did."

Harry was stunned. "You mean you gave me a. . ." He couldn't finish.

"Partly," she said, mirthfully. "You made her notice me before we entered the Hall. She wouldn't stop looking at me. So I decided to duck down and pleasure you. I knew that as soon as I was out of her sight, she would forget that she'd seen me, I could embarrass you in return for you embarrassing me, and I would also get to taste you again." She gave him a superior look. "You make for very tasty afters."

Harry's look of incredulousness slowly changed into a smile.

"You, my little minx," he said, "are definitely going to get it."

He lunged at her, hands out, fingers spread as though he were going to tickle her.

She squealed in fear and delight and leapt from his bed. She collided with Neville who was just getting up. They saw each other and both blushed profusely. Neville stammered something unintelligible, seized his dressing gown and shower kit and hurried from the room. Gabby turned towards Harry, bent over and buried her face in the blankets on his bed. After a few seconds, she looked back up at her Master, her blush receding.

"You see what I mean?" she asked. "That was embarrassing."

Harry shook his head unbelievably.

"I can't believe what I'm seeing," he said with a mirthful twinkle in his eye. "A perpetually nude, nymphomaniacal prude." She managed to grab a pillow and hit him with it before he could move.

Laughing, they both left for the showers.

Harry managed to get his revenge on Gabby for her public blow-job during his first class that morning. As they walked to class with Ron and Hermione, he lagged back a bit and whispered in Gabby's ear, "During class, I want you to stand where I put you and stay there until we're dismissed." She looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, knowing that he had something planned but not knowing what it was.

As they settled down in their seats at the very back of the classroom—much to the annoyance of Hermione, who still took the desk next to him and sat just a little too close—Harry unobtrusively positioned the girl so that she was standing next to his desk facing the back wall of the classroom. She planted her feet, determined to follow his instructions.

Once Binns had floated through the blackboard, taken roll and begun droning on about Burrod the Bludgeoner or Bigrod the Beguiling or whichever goblin had done something noteworthy, Harry set to work. He surreptitiously pulled out his wand and stuck his parchment to the desk so that he could take notes without having to use two hands. Then he casually reached over and slid his left hand in between Gabby's legs. She tensed, guessing what was coming and not willing to stop it. Harry was aware that she knew she could put an end to it at any time and he wouldn't be angry with her, but he also knew that she would do everything in her power to obey the command he had given her.

He also supposed that she was never more aware of the ease with which she could draw the attention of the entire class to her.

Slowly he drew across the smooth flesh of her inner thighs with his fingertips, drawing invisible patterns that clearly illustrated the power of touch. He saw her bite her lower lip and swallow nervously, determined to remain silent. Harry intended to take her to the very precipice of her resolve.

She watched him closely but he was fixated on the trail of the moving fingers almost as though trying to find meaning in the random design they drew: halfway up her left thigh, circle around, over to her right thigh and draw looping swirls down to a point just above her perfect little knee; back to the left thigh and brushing around to the outside of her leg, then a straight line up to her hip, then forward in a downward curving arc that evolved into a zigzaging pattern that worked it's way diagonally to the inside of her left knee.

Her leg twitched. Apparently, she was ticklish. He brushed the same tender spot with the back of the nail on his index finger. Another twitch, larger than the first.

He looked up into her eyes. She was silently begging him to both stop and continue.

Dorvan the Devastator and his forces decimated an entire wizarding village in December of 1672. Harry made a point of getting Gabby's attention before making her wait as he wrote that down, drawing her notice away from his other hand which he carefully rotated so that it faced the other direction.

Before he was finished writing, and without giving her any indication or warning, he brushed his fingernail across the same spot, though on her other knee, repeating his little test. The jerk was so pronounced as she flinched away from the tickling digit, that she nearly lost her balance. She caught herself and wrenched her body up straight again. She worried her lip and closed her eyes giving the impression that she was silently praying that she was still unnoticed. Harry smiled and gave her no time to recover.

He started his fingertips dancing across her soft, young flesh again. He pretended to pay attention to the spectral professor, occasionally scribbling word-like patterns on his parchment with his uninked quill. His mind, however, was on his left hand and the path it described as it traced its way over her thighs and lower abdomen circling inexorably towards it's destination.

She was clearly lost to the sensation now. Unconsciously, she would move herself ever so slightly in the direction of his contact with her skin. Her eyes remained closed and he imagined that any number of erotic images flitted across her vision on the inside of her eyelids. He was closer now, inches from his goal, but still patient enough to prolong the teasing and heighten her state of arousal.

Millimetre by millimetre he closed in on his target. Gabby's mouth was open and her lips were moving silently. She appeared oblivious to everything but the touch of his fingers. Her slit was clearly damp and threatening to begin dripping.

Finally, he dragged a single finger down one side of her fleshy pudendum. Harry could see her breath hitching as the muscles in her stomach clenched. He moved his touch back out to the distance it had been moments before and circled her sex with swirling motions. When he'd worked his way back up to a point between her bellybutton and her cleft, he again trailed a single finger down, this time on the other side of her bald slit. Again, her belly spasmed involuntarily.

This time he didn't move away, but trailed little patterns around her plump mound. She was breathing heavily, but doing her best to do so silently. Her hands were performing an interesting ballet of their own as they alternated between curling into fists, catching her thumbs with her fingers, making claw-like shapes with tightly bent fingers and stretching as wide as possible; she clearly wanted to touch herself and was barely able to keep from doing so.

He finally slipped his index finger into her slit and ran it down, gliding past her entrance without trying to slip inside. It was instantly coated in her secretions. He began sliding it back and forth, sometimes acting as though he were going to slip it into her channel, but refraining from actually doing so.

She was back to biting her lip and she was breathing through her nose just hard enough that he could hear it. She rotated her hips forward in an attempt to cause his finger to come in contact with her most sensitive area, but he allowed his caressing fingers to move right along with her; she stifled a grunt of frustration. He glanced around to see if anyone else heard it, but in truth, most of the students were either dozing or daydreaming, and the professor likely wouldn't have noticed if Harry took half the girls in the classroom right there on the ghost's normally disused desk.

He added a second finger sliding along between her outer lips, gathering her juices. She appeared to be fighting a battle between wanting to force more contact in effort to find her release and allowing her Master to tease and torture and pleasure her as he wished.

Her eyes opened in loss when he removed his fingers from her sex and widened in shock and lust when he brought them to his mouth and casually sucked them clean. As soon as he could taste no more of her he returned his hand and continued his slow, deliberate rubbing.

She was now begging him with her eyes. He moved his thumb up and grazed across her very close to the top of her cleft. Her hips thrust forward in an automatic attempt to press herself against him but he moved away. For a moment, her back remained arched as much as it could possibly be as though trying to somehow draw his hand back. He looked at her expectantly and when she finally straightened back up, he returned his hand.

He stroked several more times collecting her fluids before sucking them back off. He loved her taste, even second hand, and reminded himself that he still wanted to try it direct from the source.

The incorporeal professor continued on in his familiar monotone. Next to Harry, Hermione kept her usual meticulous notes, and on her other side, Ron's head would occasionally nod and jerk back up as he fought to remain awake.

Half a dozen more times, Harry slid his fingers along Gabrielle's crevice, gathering her secretions before bringing them to his mouth. The next time he returned to her sex, he surprised her by sliding his two fingers directly up into her. Her jaw dropped open and she instinctively lowered herself to create more pressure; he made no attempt to stop her. He allowed his thumb to stroke against her clit. There was an audible intake of breath before she caught herself and her jaw snapped closed, stopping it. She looked desperately around the room obviously fearful of finding someone staring back at her. Anyone that had heard her though, likely thought it was another student yawning.

Harry continued to plunge in to her depths with his fingers, occasionally stimulating her button with his thumb. The scent of her arousal was thick in Harry's nostrils and he found himself wishing that the other students could smell it but be unaware of where it came from.

He removed his fingers from inside her and used them to coat the outside of her sex, making it glisten in the morning sunlight that streamed through the windows.

He thrust back into her passage and picked up the pace a bit. He was limited as to how fast he could stroke her by what he thought he could do without being noticed and by how loud the wet sucking sounds made be his pistoning finger became. Gabby's eyes were half closed and he new she was getting close. He pumped away into her passage and rubbed her clit at irregular intervals. Her breathing was heavy. She looked as though she would abandon all attempts at remaining unobtrusive and do something impulsive like trying to grind herself on the edge of his desk at any moment.

She became more mobile. She still hadn't moved from her spot but she was definitely not standing up straight any more. She thrust her hips in seemingly random directions trying to maximize the pressure or speed of the fingers in her cunt and the thumb that sometimes stimulated her little nubbin.

Harry felt the walls of her vagina contract. She was so close, just a few more thrusts and strokes away—but he slowed his hand and removed his fingers. Her eyes popped open and she looked at him wildly, desperately. He carefully and casually licked his fingers. She moved her hand towards her crotch, but since she was still looking at him he simply shook his head slightly. She could have ignored him and found the release she so desperately sought, but she clamped down on a disappointed groan and returned her hands to her sides.

Harry returned his fingers to her delicate folds sliding them into her slickness. He once again started sliding them in and out, working her back to the edge of her orgasm. After a few strokes, he tried adding a third; it was tight, and Gabby bit down on her fist but he didn't see any pain in her expression, only shock and pleasure. With three fingers, he drove her back to the brink of her climax quickly. Her cunt walls beginning to spasm randomly, he slowed his manipulations to keep her right on the verge as long as he could.

He stroked. She contracted. He stroked again. And again. He brushed her clit and she contracted again. She was so close to her orgasm that she was shaking with a combination of pleasure and expectation.

Her eyes caught his and he gave her just enough warning. She bit her lip again. He shoved hard with his fingers at the same time he ground her clit with the pad of his thumb.

She came.

Her knees buckled and she only managed to stay on her feet by grabbing the edge of his desk and with the help of the hand between her legs holding her up. Her orgasm was massive. Her body racked with spasms of pleasure. A surge of her fluids gushed past Harry's hand and flowed down her legs or dripped directly onto the floor.

The pleasure seeping through the bond to Harry was nearly enough to make him come in his shorts; he'd been rock hard almost since he'd started touching her.

Gabby convulsed and tried desperately to stay on her feet, her legs clamping around Harry's still stroking fingers, the steady contractions of her inner walls massaging them. In an effort to remain silent, she'd bit her lip so hard that Harry feared she might have drawn blood. He didn't relish that conversation with Madam Pomfrey.

As she recovered from her orgasm, she looked around at the students in the room almost reluctantly; he knew she feared that she'd been noticed. When she realized that she hadn't, she slid herself in between Harry's desk and Harry himself, sitting sideways on his left leg. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him snuggling down in her post-orgasmic haze. He put his arm around her and gently squeezed. They stayed that way until the end of the class.

When the bell rang and everyone was in the process of gathering up their things, Gabby, after climbing reluctantly from Harry's lap, whispered in his ear that that had been her best orgasm yet. Harry had a silly grin all through break.

During Charms, whilst everyone was practising hover charms—which Harry had managed to master quite quickly—he spent the class trying once again to control the "pull". It was difficult to tell if it was working or not since most of the girls in the class were already paying him more attention than they would have done a week ago. He had no intention of trying it on Hermione, who managed to at least convincingly give the appearance that she was concentrating on the assignment, but had once again chosen to sit so close to him that their hips nearly touched.

He finally settled on Hannah Abbott, who was sitting on the opposite side of the room and was only glancing occasionally in his direction.

He created a little routine: He would flick his wand, casting the hover charm on one of the pillows that they had been banishing the previous month, then he would quickly look across the room at Hannah and try to focus on her.

With about twenty minutes left until the end of the lesson, he finally saw some results. He had glanced across the room for what seemed like the hundredth time when he felt something inside him change. It was as though he was suddenly aware of a tenuous tendril of magic that connected him to Hannah and he had somehow made it grow a bit more substantial. He saw her look over at him and allow her gaze to linger before returning to her work.

He tried strengthening the thin filament more and she looked back at him again wistfully. He caught her eye and smiled at her. She blushed and looked back to her work only to surreptitiously shift her eyes to see if he was still looking at her. Harry however, wanting to know if it was simply his control over the "pull" that was affecting her and not her mistaken idea that he might fancy her, pretended to focus on his pillow whilst discreetly keeping most of his attention on her.

He continued trying to increase the "pull", concentrating on little else as the minutes passed. He finally risked a glance over at her only to find her staring at him with a glazed expression. She was discretely licking her lips and under the desk, he noticed she was carefully rubbing her thighs together.

Shocked at just how much he had affected the Hufflepuff without meaning to, he figured he should put a stop to it, so he concentrated on lessening the feeling of connectedness inside him. Nothing happened. He concentrated more. Still nothing. She kept staring at him and moving her thighs back and forth. He began to worry that, now that he'd strengthened his "pull" towards her, that perhaps it would stay that way and that she would be driven to acts of public masturbation around him.

He desperately tried everything he could think of. He wondered fearfully if she would have to orgasm for his "pull" to return to normal.

He was horrified to notice that Flitwick was approaching Hannah as he came around helping students with difficulties and that, in her stupor, she hadn't so much as swished her wand in several minutes. He redoubled his efforts to lower his "pull" on her, but he still failed miserably.

The tiny professor moved past Susan Bones and stopped at Hannah's desk.

"Miss Abbott," he said with his squeaky voice. Harry was sure that voice was going to draw the attention of the entire class. Well, all but Hannah's; she failed to notice him. Harry cringed inside, wondering if he should have sent Gabby over to try to shake the girl out of it. Though, at the same time, he knew that it would have likely only succeeded in getting both Hannah and Gabby noticed.

People were beginning to notice Hannah anyway.

"Miss Abbott," he repeated louder. "Are you quite well?"

Hannah still didn't respond. Harry felt horrible. Most of the class was now watching the blond girl and some were starting to snicker at what it was obvious she was doing. Harry had taken to concentrating resolutely on his hover charm, casting it and recasting it and wishing that he had not tried to tame his abilities during class. What had he been thinking? How could doing something like that not end in disaster? He wanted to cover his face. He wanted to be anywhere else.

Gabby, who was watching what was happening had begun whispering random things in his ear: "Just relax. Think about your spell. Pretend you're walking by the lake. Remember what we did in bed last night. . ." Realizing that she was trying to distract him, he attempted to do as she said. After a few moments he thought it may be working.

"Miss Abbott," the diminutive professor said again as he touched her on the arm. She jumped and looked wildly around as though she'd forgotten where she was before he eyes landed on Flitwick.

She blushed brightly red, dropped her wand and buried her face in her hands. Flitwick ended up docking Hufflepuff ten points and admonishing Hannah for not keeping her mind on her work. He then spent the last few minutes of the class reminding them of the importance of keeping their minds on their spellwork.

Harry felt horrible for Hannah, but he also realized that the "pull" had gone back to normal. He wasn't sure quite when it had happened though, or what had caused it to happen for that matter, so repeating the results would likely be a bit difficult.

When class was over, Harry told Ron and Hermione that he had something to do before lunch and that he would meet them there. Hermione groused about the fact that he always seemed to have something to do without them and that they'd barely seen him outside of class since the tournament. Harry reminded her that the tournament had only been two days ago.

He waited outside the classroom as the rest of the students exited. Gabrielle asked him quietly, "What are you going to do?"

"I got Hannah in trouble," he replied. "It's only right that I apologize."

Gabby looked dubious. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Hannah was one of the last to leave and exited well after Susan with whom she was normally inseparable.

"Hannah," Harry said, getting her attention. She saw him and blushed. She turned and made to walk away. "Can I talk to you? Privately?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment.

"I need to get to lunch," she said without turning to face him.

"Please," he begged. "It's important."

She looked back at him for a moment and then she slumped resignedly down a bit. She didn't say anything, but gestured down the hall. They quickly found an empty classroom.

They stood in silence for a moment as Harry worked up his courage.

"If this is about. . ." Hannah said carefully, "what it. . . looked like I was doing in Charms. . ."

"I'm sorry," he blurted.

Hannah looked taken aback.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I was, er, kind of the reason you, um. . ." He trailed off. This was harder than he thought. Perhaps he should have listened to Gabby and not said anything, but he felt responsible.

Her expression hardened. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter," she said angrily. "You had nothing to do with that!"

"But I did!" he exclaimed. He immediately regretted it. "That is to say— I, er, have this—ability and I kind of used it on you to—"

"You mean to tell me you put some spell on me?!" she shrieked, backing away from him. "Are you obsessed with me or something?"

"What? No! Not at all!" he said defensively. "It's an automatic thing, like a natural attraction. I was just trying to—"

"'Natural attraction'?" she repeated incredulously. "God, I never realized how full of yourself you are. I never thought you had let your fame go to your head but I guess you really have. It's no wonder you entered the tournament."

"No, that's not what I—" he began. "I didn't mean—" He growled in frustration. "This is not going the way I thought it would." He looked at her, wishing that he could make her understand.

"I was trying to learn how to use this ability that I have and it kind of got out of hand. I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did. I just wanted to say that I was sorry."

She stared at him for a few moments as though he'd grown a few extra heads.

"The way I see it," she said finally, "either you've let your fame go to your head, or you're messing about with something you shouldn't be—something that's likely illegal. Probably both. I suggest you stop it before you do something really stupid. I mean something worse than just humiliating a fellow student." She walked over to the door and opened it. "And stay the hell away from me!" she said before striding out.

Harry looked at Gabby. She was smirking at him.

"Don't say it." he said.

"I told you it was a bad idea."

"I said 'don't say it.'" he said, but the fact that she found the situation funny was contagious and he was soon fighting not to grin. He made a slow grab for her and she danced out of the way.

"I told you so. I told you so," she chanted merrily.

"Just you wait until I get my hands on you." he said with a pretend glare.

She stopped dancing. "Ooh, please," she said.

"C'mon," he said as he took her hand and they left the empty classroom.

As they walked down the hall, she said to him, "At least she didn't slap you."

He shot her another mock glare but his happiness had begun to ebb and his expression slipped into one of defeat.

"It's going to be all over the school tomorrow that I'm using some kind of enchantment on girls to attract them."

"Doubtful," Gabby said. "Information about the bond tends to be forgotten unless you really want someone to remember it."

"Really?"

She nodded.

"So I can tell people about us and our bond an they'll just forget it again unless I don't want them to?"

"Yep," she said brightly.

"What about you?"

"Yes, I can make people remember too," she said.

He shook his head. "No, I mean can I make people remember you," he said. "You know, so that they'll always notice you."

She blushed and said quietly, "Yes, but I'd rather not be noticed. They'll see me. They'll see that I'm naked." She practically whispered her last word.

"I just meant people like your parents," he said, "and your sister. It would be nice if they could see you if they want to talk to you or something. It might be difficult if we visit them over the summer and I have to keep reminding them why I'm there and that you're there too."

She thought about it for a moment. "My family will already remember enough to know why you're visiting them," she said. "And I can get their attention any time I need to. But we can give it some thought. Once someone remembers, we can't take it back."

"I'll leave the decision up to you then," he said.

They walked in silence down two sets of stairs. They were near the wide marble staircase that would take them down to the Entrance Hall when they heard a sultry voice call his name.

He turned to see Fleur approaching him, walking very sexily. He never thought she'd looked so beautiful; he wished Malfoy would show up just so Harry could defend her from him.

"I 'ave been looking everywhere for you, 'Arry," she said. Her voice was breathy and sounded like music to Harry's ears. She nearly floated up to him and as soon as she had him in reach, she began drawing her fingers over his chest in a playful fashion. "I was 'oping we could 'ave a leetle talk," she said, then leaned in to whisper in his ear, "privately."

Harry found himself thinking that sounded like a very good idea to him. Any time he could spend alone with this goddess would be a memory to treasure.

She turned and lead him to a nearby empty classroom, then walked over and took a seat. Harry suddenly realized that they were in the History of Magic classroom. The memory of what he'd done to Gabby there not three hours ago was brought to the forefront of his mind. He returned his attention to Fleur and felt that irresistible attraction again. He realized with a shock that she was using her "pull" on him. With that knowledge, he easily shrugged it off; it was no harder than shrugging off Moody's Imperious Curse. He decided to see how this played out however, so he chose to pretend to still be under it's influence.

"So," he said rather breathlessly, his gaze riveted on her. "What did you want to— talk about?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gabby looking up at him inquisitively. He very casually put his hand on her to let her know not to worry.

"I was 'oping we could talk about my seester," Fleur said in a tone that was far less seductive now that he was not under her influence. He decided to play ignorant.

"Sister?" he asked.

She smiled at him alluringly but he noticed a cold edge to it. He mentally prepared himself for trouble. Wondering if he could use her own tactics against her, he searched for and found the tendril of his "pull" that led to her.

"'Arry," she said silkily, "I know zat somezing 'appened between ze two of you after ze second task."

Harry just pretended to be enthralled.

"I zink she came to you," Fleur said, and the coldness in her voice was more apparent. Gabby grabbed his arm, clearly worried about what her sister might do. "I zink you took advantage of 'er. You took 'er innocence!" She was practically yelling now. Harry tried to remain calm and look smitten whilst he found his wand just in case. "You bonded wiz 'er and I know it is not ze normal bond! Admit it, Potter! You could not 'ave me so you raped my seester!"

Fleur was on her feet now. Gabby, who looked as though she couldn't possibly be any more shocked or angry than she was, took a couple steps towards her sister. Harry, wand in hand, concentrated on the thread connecting him to Fleur. It widened and so did her eyes. Her fight having left her, she sank back into the chair as seductively as she could. Gabby looked as though she were restraining herself from trying to hurt her sister.

He concentrated a little more and suddenly Fleur seemed to have forgotten all about her anger and accusations. He continued and she was soon breathing heavily and shifting slightly in her seat.

"First of all," Harry said with a coldness that matched the tone Fleur had used. "I did not rape your sister. She initiated the bond. She came to me. I did not force her to do anything she didn't want to, just like she didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to."

Gabby came to stand by his side, taking his hand in hers to provide him some support.

"Second of all," Harry continued. "If you'd taken the time to ask your sister how she feels about the bond we share instead of just assuming that she hated it, she would not be quite so angry with you right now."

Fleur looked shocked by his statement, either because she didn't expect that Gabby would be angry with her or because she didn't know where Gabby was, yet Harry claimed to know how she felt, he didn't know which.

"Third," He continued, "I don't like the fact that you used your 'pull' on me to lure me here in a clear attempt to accuse and attack me." There was a gasp from the girl next to him and Fleur managed to look ashamed even as she still sat squirming in her seat.

"Fourth," said Gabby, drawing Fleur's attention. She looked shocked and perhaps a bit frightened either because of the girl's sudden appearance, her state of dress or the fact that she positively radiated fury; it was likely some combination of the three. "You should never have made those horrible accusations in front of me! You've insulted me and you've insulted my bond-mate."

Harry tried reducing the strand that connected him to Fleur to lessen his "pull" on her now that she was a bit more calm and they had her attention, but as usual, nothing happened. Remembering Gabby's way of distracting him, both with Vicky and with Hannah, he tried actively focusing that part of his mind on his feelings for her and finally met with some success. With a bit of practice, he should have fairly accurate control over it.

Fleur seemed to come to herself a bit.

"Gabrielle, ma sœur," she said, "what 'as 'e done to you?"

Gabby ignored the question.

"Your sister?" she practically shrieked. "You say all those horrible, vicious things about my bond-mate and you have the nerve to claim to be my sister?"

Fleur appeared confused by Gabby's reaction. "But you are a sex slave. Zat means 'e forced 'imself on you. I was right to say zose zings."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Gabby ground out. "I am not a slave! I may be his toy, his plaything, his possession, and he may be my Master, but I am no slave!"

Even though Fleur had attacked him directly, Harry realized that the indirect attack on Gabby by her sister was worse. After all, Fleur didn't know Harry but she should know her sister. He understood that this was something that Gabby needed to do for herself so he let her do the talking. He did, however, slip an arm around her as a visible sign of support.

"Master? A toy?" The older girl said, the words dripping with disdain. "'E did force you. I was right! 'E raped you!"

"No, he did not." she said venomously. "If you knew anything beyond just the usual Veela bond, you would know that he could not force this type of bond on me. He did not force me, he dominated me." She then spoke her last three words carefully and clearly, "And I submitted."

"'E forced you to submit?" Fleur was becoming angry again.

Gabrielle shook her head almost pityingly. "I am ashamed of you, Fleur," she said disdainfully. "You are either not listening or very stupid. He did not force me! He took control and dominated me, but he did nothing to me that I did not want him to do."

Fleur cycled through several emotions as realization slowly dawned on her.

"So," she said carefully, "you were willing. . .?"

"Yes, I was," she said proudly. "And I would do it again a thousand times over if I had to. I love him. And I know—I can feel—that he loves me as well. He is a part of me now. Just as I am a part of him." Her voice turned bitter. "And you have the nerve—the audacity —to use your 'pull' on my bond-mate in order to lure him here and say all those hateful things. What else were you planning on doing? Did you plan to hex him? To hurt him?"

Fleur shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I did not understand. What else can I say? What else can do?"

Gabrielle thought about it for a moment before her lips stretched in a smirk. "Perhaps a taste of your own medicine? I know you're affected by his 'pull'. . ." She left the sentence hanging.

Fleur looked shocked. "His 'pull'?" she asked. "Is zat why. . .?" She appeared too embarrassed to finish the thought.

Harry suddenly understood where Gabby was going, but he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. But when she turned to look at him, he saw the anger and hurt that her sister had caused her and knew that he would do anything she asked of him.

"This isn't the first time she's used her 'pull' on someone to hurt them or attack them," she said. "I think it's time she knows just how it feels. Maybe she'll understand a tiny fraction of how much she hurt me when she said those things about you."

"You don't want me too. . ." He couldn't say it. He must have misunderstood her. Attack her sister? She couldn't possibly mean that.

"Of course not, Master," she said, catching the meaning behind his reticence. "I don't want you to do anything but use the 'pull'. I want her to desire you, but not to have you. That should be punishment enough."

Harry didn't hesitate. "How much and how long?"

"About the same as you did with Hannah, I think," she said. "As for how long. . . We shall see."

Harry nodded and immediately intensified his 'pull' on Fleur. Her expression glazed over and she began shifting in her seat, then grinding her hips and panting. When he had the "pull" to about half of where it had been with Hannah, Fleur groaned and hunched forward, grabbing the desk in front of her. She looked up at Harry, her expression was one of unadulterated lust. Harry stopped increasing the "pull" wondering if something was wrong.

Fleur seemed to be almost convulsing and she moaned a nearly continuous "Oooh" sound that strained into a near squeal every few seconds.

"I said the same as Hannah," Gabby reminded him.

A few seconds passed as Fleur continued twitching in her seat before Harry collected himself enough to answer. "That's barely half of what I gave to Hannah."

Gabby looked from Harry to Fleur and back again. Her sister had by now slumped down against the desk, resting on the side of her face, gasping for breath. "Maybe you should let her go," she said. "She must be really susceptible. I think she's orgasming."

Harry focused on Gabby and slowly, the "pull" receded. All tension slowly left Fleur and she seemed to almost melt over the desk and chair. She was still breathing heavily but she was no longer squealing. Gabby walked up to her.

"Fleur," she said. No response. "Fleur!" she repeated louder. Her sister turned her head lazily and looked at her without focus. "You will never repeat any of the hateful things you said today. You will also never try to use your 'pull' on my Master again, understand?" Fleur simply stared.

"You think she'll be all right?" Harry asked. "Perhaps we should take her to the hospital wing?"

"And say what, Master?" she asked. "She dragged you into an empty classroom and you drove her to exhaustion with a several dozen rapid orgasms?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "Er, well, no," he mumbled. "We could tell them. . . something else," he finished lamely.

She just looked at him as though she expected he knew just how stupid that sounded.

"She'll be all right," Gabby said finally. "She'll come to and probably be furious at me for telling you to do that to her." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think she'll retaliate against you because she now knows that she's helpless against you. She also knows that if she does anything at all to me that she'll have to deal with you."

Harry thought that made sense. The worst she could do was go to her parents and Mrs. Delacour—or rather, Apolline—seemed to be pretty supportive of Harry and Gabby.

"We'll give her a few days to get over it and then we'll extend an olive branch," she said. "She's my sister. We can't hate each other forever."

Harry watched Gabby uncertainly. "Do you hate her?" he asked.

There was a moment where he thought that she really wanted to say yes but instead she said, "Not really. I hate the things she said. And I hate what she tried to do. But really, she was trying to protect me."

Gabby walked into Harry's arms and he gave her a comforting hug. They left Fleur sitting where she was and went down to lunch.

They found two seats next to Hermione. Harry idly wondered if she was saving both without really knowing who the second one was for. They ate quietly and quickly as Harry and Gabby had spent most of the lunch break dealing with two very angry witches.

Just before Katie Bell, who was sitting on Gabby's other side, got up to leave, she leaned over to Harry and said quietly to him, "I heard from McGonagall that she's thinking about making one of us Quidditch Captain next term. How about we meet later in the Captain's office to go over a bit of strategy so that we'll be on top of things no matter which one of us she chooses. Say about six-thirty?" Harry nodded.

After Potions, which passed with it's usual snide remarks and unnecessary docking of points from Snape, and a quiet rage from Gabby directed towards the man, Harry, Gabby, Ron and Hermione made their way out of the dungeons and up the steps to the Great Hall for dinner.

At a quarter past six, Harry caught sight of Katie slipping out early. He and Gabby quickly finished their dinner and followed a few minutes behind her.

When they got to the Captain's Office, however, Katie was not there. Instead, they heard one of the showers running on the girls side. Harry went and took a seat in the Office whilst Gabby sneaked off to the showers to spy on Katie after giving him a conspiratorial look. Less than a minute later, she was at the office door.

"Master," she said with a giggle. "I think you'll want to hear this."

He followed her out and around to the girl's locker room which was a mirror image of the boy's side. Gabby strode boldly and Harry crept up to the corner nearest the showers, Gabby continuing another foot or two and standing in the in the walkway so that she could watch the showering girl. From around the corner, Harry could hear the sound of the running water, but he could also hear moaning—a very sensual moaning. Apparently, Katie was aroused.

Harry caught Gabby's eye and they shared a grin. What they heard next, however, had them both stifling laughter.

"Oh, Harry," Katie moaned quietly. "Mmm, yes. Touch me there."

"I'm starting to think she asked you to come out here for something other than Quidditch," Gabby tried to say quietly while attempting to keep from laughing.

The moaning stopped abruptly. "Is someone there?" Katie called out. It seemed that Gabby had not been quiet enough. She darted back behind the same corner that hid Harry.

"It's just me, Katie," Harry answered.

"Harry?" she nearly shrieked, sounding like she thought she'd been caught. "What are you doing in here?"

Harry, unsure what drove him to do so other than the fact that the thought of Katie touching herself whilst thinking of him was turning him on, decided to be bold.

"Well," he said as he stepped around the corner and leaned against the wall casually. "I'm not currently touching you where you want me to, though I'll admit I'm tempted." He caught sight of Katie. She was petite—a couple inches shorter than he was, she had long dark hair that came to the same point of her back as did Gabrielle's, she was toned from hours of practising Quidditch and her fair skin was smooth looking and sparkled invitingly under the water. He managed to catch the fact that she had a small patch of pubic hair just above the top of her slit and that her breasts would be just about a perfect handful for him and were topped with large, dark pink and very hard nipples in the centre of her equally dark areolae before she screeched and tried to cover herself.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I think you asked that already," he replied cheekily. "You did ask me to meet you here."

"I said in the Captains Office," she said.

"I know," he said carelessly. He couldn't believe just how horny the sight of this naked girl was making him. He also couldn't believe just how daring he was being. Then he reflected that he had so far gone without sex all day, and after masturbating Gabby and watching Hannah and then Fleur writhing sexily under the affects of his "pull", he realized just what Gabby had meant when she'd said that the bonding would increase his drive. He was desperate and determined that he wouldn't leave that room until he'd had sex, whether it be with Katie, or Gabby, he didn't really care. "But I hadn't realized that we were supposed to shower before the meeting until I heard you in here. So I figured, why waste water?"

He walked over to the end of the lockers nearest to the showers and began to slowly unfasten his robes. Katie's eyes seemed glued to his hands. As he almost had his robes open, she seemed to realize that he was serious.

"You—" She swallowed. "—really want to share a shower?" she asked with the tone of one only just daring to hope. The arms she had covering her most private areas began to relax revealing the tantalizing bits of her anatomy that they'd been hiding.

"I'd like to share more than that, but if all you want to do is shower. . ." He left the thought hanging.

She looked as though someone had just told her that all her dreams were going to come true.

"Really?" she managed.

"Well I'm not proposing marriage," he said cheekily, "or even a relationship. But after all, you're a very attractive, beautiful, sexy, gorgeous young woman, and I have eyes. So, yeah, I'd like to do more than shower with you." He let his robes open and shrugged them off his shoulders. He wore only boxers underneath.

"Would you like to share more than a shower, Katie?" he asked.

By now her hands were by her side, all thoughts of modesty forgotten. She just nodded slowly, a smile forming on her attractive face.

He kicked off his shoes and socks and dropped his boxers. Her eyes widened a bit at what she saw once he did.

"Is, uh, that for me?" she asked brazenly.

He made a show of looking down at his erection as he walked over towards her. He glanced at Gabby who had moved over into the showers area, a few feet away from Katie and was watching their mating dance with interest whilst slowly stroking herself in anticipation.

"Tonight, my dear Katie," he said, grinning lasciviously. "You may have all of it that you like."

He stepped into the stream of the water. They were now close enough to touch. He reached out, took her gently by the upper arms, pulled her to him and captured her lips in a gentle kiss, pressing his hardness between them. He licked her lips entreating entry and she obliged, sharing her tongue with him as well. Her hands came around and grasped his naked arse, kneading the taught flesh. In return, his hands sought her breasts. Pliant and supple, Harry thought they felt wonderful.

Their kiss broke and Harry's mouth found its way to her left breast. He licked all around the perfectly formed mound, gathering the little pebble that was her nipple between his lips, sucking gently on it and flicking it with his tongue. She moaned and leaned into his touch, busying her hands by running them over every part of his body that she could touch. He shifted his attentions to her right breast and repeated the process. She moaned again in pleasure.

Her hands found his erect member and grasped it, shamelessly stroking it's length. In return his right hand drifted down between her legs and cupped her sex, slipping his middle finger into her cleft. He gently rocked the hand back and forth, sliding his finger over the entrance to her cunt and using his palm to place a little pressure on her hooded clit. The hand stroking his cock faltered a bit and she lowered her head and bit him softly on the shoulder.

Eventually, he coaxed her to lie back on the floor of the shower, with the cascading water still flowing over her from the shoulders down. He positioned himself above her and once again captured her tit with his mouth, licking and sucking and teasing the hardened nipple. He delighted in the differences between Katie and his bond-mate—who had crawled her way over to sit down next to the Gryffindor Chaser with her legs spread wide. Gabby watched Harry stimulate Katie as she idly stroked her own moist folds, occasionally dipping her finger inside. Katie tangled her fingers in Harry's messy black mop, guiding him to add pressure or relieve it as she wished.

"Oh, Harry," she said breathlessly. "Don't stop. I never want this to end."

Soon enough, Harry was kissing his way down her abdomen. He paused briefly at her bellybutton and gave it his earnest attention before continuing on. He came tantalizingly close to her pussy before he suddenly diverted over to her right thigh. As she could no longer easily reach his hair, she shifted her hands to her own chest, grasping and caressing and pulling and her proud tits.

Harry made his way down to a spot just above her knee before he switched over to the inside of her other leg. She instinctively drew her legs apart at the touch. Her moans were getting louder as she lost herself in the pleasure she was receiving.

Gabby, it seemed, was no longer content to sit by and merely observe. She got on her knees and sat on her heels and placed one hand gently on Katie's stomach. She caressed around the older girl's navel and started trailing up to her chest. Katie was surprised by the extra point of contact and looked up at Gabby as though doubtful about the little girl's presence. The feeling of the young Veela's gliding hand, however, seemed to make up her mind for her. She lay her head back and closed her eyes.

Harry, meanwhile had kissed and licked his way up Katie's inner thigh only to find himself nose to slit with his team-mate's exposed crotch. Water from the shower poured over him, dripping down onto her. He used his thumbs to gently part her lips and gave a tentative lick. He tried to examine the flavour. It was different to Gabby—muskier, more potent—but it was also lessened by the continuously flowing water. Still, he decided, he liked it.

Soon he was licking her sex with abandon: long stokes moving all the way from the very bottom to the top, where she visibly reacted as his tongue slid over her clit; short, darting strokes that covered areas he found interesting enough to warrant extra attention; swirling licks that tickled extra sensitive parts; and occasional "reverse licks" where he dragged the smooth underside of his tongue from the top of her gash to the bottom. He interspersed these different licks with wiggling his tongue up inside her and teasing and sucking her clit.

Gabby had now replaced Katie's own hands at manipulating and fondling her breasts. She quickly found, having tried gently biting one of her nipples, that Katie had absolutely no interest in pain of any kind. The young blond promptly rectified her mistake by lavishing attention on the offended nub. After a few seconds gently caressing the nipple with her mouth, Gabby released it long enough to move down and whisper in her Master's ear, "No pain at all." He caught her eye to show that he understood and continued his first ever attempts at cunnilingus.

Katie was now mewling in pleasure. The sensation of Harry licking her hot cunt and Gabby paying homage to her breasts seemed to be driving her to distraction.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she panted. "Where did you learn to do that?"

He stopped his licking long enough to say, "First time."

The thought that she was the first girl he'd ever gone down on, seemed to only increase Katie's arousal.

"Oooh, more, Harry," she said breathlessly. "Lick me. Faster! Ohhh! Ahh!"

He slipped his finger into her sucking vagina and began sliding it in and out.

"Oh, gods, Harry, yes!" she cried. "Keep doing that!"

Gabby moved from one tit to the other, alternatively laving Katie's nipples and the surrounding flesh with her little tongue and gently sucking them. She began massaging Katie's right breast with her left hand and moved up to her mouth where she gave the older girl a tentative kiss. Katie's eyes shot open in surprise, but quickly returned it. Soon they were kissing with passion, their tongues duelling and moans occasionally escaping the lips of both girls.

Harry had slipped another finger into Katie's cunt and was gently fucking her with them as he continued to lavish his attention on the rest of her hot pussy.

Soon, Katie had broken the kiss with Gabby in favour of tossing her head back and moaning loudly, randomly calling out encouragement to Harry.

"Yes! Harder! Ohhh! Faster! Deeper! Ahhh! More! Uunh!"

Harry did his best to oblige her whilst Gabby moved her tickling tongue and kissing, sucking lips from breast to bellybutton, to other breast, to neck, back to breast, to collarbone. . .

Katie was at her limit. She began chanting, "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" growing louder and higher pitched with each repetition until they simply devolved into a grunting "Unnnnhhhshh!" sound.

Harry knew she was getting close, so he increased the depth and speed of his thrusting hand and captured her clit with his lips and sucked hard whilst flicking it with his tongue.

With a mighty buck of her hips that nearly served to dislodge Harry, Katie screamed and came. Her body arched back as though frozen and after the initial scream, she made a rhythmic grunting-mewling sound with each panting breath. He continued sucking her clit and gently slowed his strokes as she took nearly thirty seconds to come down from her climax.

Finally, she relaxed and collapsed back on the floor, still breathing heavily. From his left, Harry heard clapping and looked over to see Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet standing by the lockers, watching them. Harry blushed a bit at having been caught, but noticed Katie didn't react beyond looking over at the two girls. Either her orgasm was so powerful that she simply couldn't care about being discovered or this was not an altogether new situation for her.

"Bravo," exclaimed Angelina as she continued to applaud.

"Masterful work," added Alicia, also still clapping.

"Well done," continued Angelina.

"Wonderful performance," said Alicia.

Their clapping slowed and stopped.

"Honestly Harry," said Angelina, "I don't think I've ever seen Katie come that hard or that long."

Harry blushed a little more at their praise.

Katie finally spoke up. "I take it you'd like to join us?" she said rather blissfully.

"I thought you'd never ask," Alicia said, beginning to unfasten her robes.

"If I hadn't, you'd have joined anyway," Katie said playfully.

"Yeah," agreed Angelina.

"Actually, after what we just saw," said Alicia. "I was thinking about trying your 'one of us will be named captain' ploy so I could have a shot at him myself."

Harry realized he'd been fooled. He turned to the reclined girl. "So, McGonagall didn't tell you. . ." he said.

She looked at him with a twinge of regret. "No," she admitted. "Are you angry with me?"

He smirked and stroked her pussy with his hand. "Furious," he said, grinning.

Apparently, Katie was not as over her orgasm as Harry thought, even after all the time they'd spent talking, because she reacted violently to what he had done.

"Ohhh!" she called, arching her back a bit again. "Mmmm. Fuck me, Harry. I need you inside me!"

After all he'd seen and done today without having any release, he certainly didn't need to be told twice. He slid up in between her legs and positioned himself at her very sensitive entrance. He pressed forward and slipped inside her. She mewled as he entered her, biting her lip and groaning loudly as soon as he bottomed out. He began a slow steady rhythm intending to drive her to as many orgasms as he could.

Whilst he was beginning to fuck Katie, Angela and Alicia had removed their clothes and had moved under the running shower standing face to face. As they let the water run over them, their hands began exploring each other finding interesting and sensitive things to touch and feel: thighs, breasts, hips, bums, pussies. . . Harry realized that this certainly wasn't their first time with each other and began to wonder what all went on in the girls half of the locker room after practices and matches.

As soon as Harry had entered Katie, Gabrielle had manoeuvred herself around so that she could draw her Master in for a kiss. Their lips clashed and their tongues slid across each other in an erotic dance. Once the kiss was broken, she leaned down over Katie and repeated her performance, much to Katie's delight, it appeared. When Gabby and Katie broke apart, Harry leaned down and offered his lips and tongue which the sexually charged Gryffindor fifth-year eagerly accepted. Before their kiss was finished, Gabby managed to work Harry's head over enough so that she could join in, their three tongues caressing and teasing. Harry found it extremely erotic.

Gabrielle suddenly squealed and their three way kiss was over. She moaned and Harry, still taking his time with his movements as he slid his cock in and out of Katie's welcoming cunt, saw that his partner had found the youngest girls sex with her hand and was gently stroking it.

"Oh yes!" she said, clearly enjoying the feeling. "That's heavenly." She reached down and placed her hand near the girl fingering her and her Master were joined and began rubbing her clit. Katie began groaning and panting rapidly and was suddenly caught in the throes of another orgasm, albeit a smaller one. Katie showed her appreciation, however, by seizing the girl by the waist and dragging her up so that she had one knee on either side of the brunette's head. Katie extended her tongue and set to work on the Veela's folds. Harry, struck by the eroticism of the sight taking place directly in front of him, couldn't help but increase his pace. As a result of the increased stimulus Katie was receiving from Harry, she worked that much harder on Gabby's young pussy. Gabby managed to somehow twist around without removing her cunt from Katie's pleasuring tongue to find and kiss Harry's mouth.

"God, that's hot," Harry heard from his right. Angelina and Alicia had progressed to lying on the floor and eating each other out. Instead of on lying on top of the other in the more traditional sixty-nine position, they were laying on their sides with Alicia facing Harry, Gabby and Katie and Angelina facing away. Alicia had apparently been watching the trio and had like what she'd seen. Angelina stopped her oral ministrations to roll back enough to see what her partner was talking about.

Hoping to give the two a bit more show, Harry reached up, found one of Gabby's nipples and performed his usual twist-pull-snap manoeuvre. Stimulated as she was by the kiss and the pleasure seeping through the bond and the tonguing she was receiving from the older girl, she cried out and came. Katie had a job lapping up the child's fluids and shortly thereafter, she came once again. The sensation of her clasping cunt walls brought Harry to the edge.

"Oh, God!" he cried. "Here it comes!"

"Ooh," said Katie. "Come all over me, Harry! Come on my tits!"

Harry found the thought so erotic, he almost didn't make it but he managed to oblige her. He pulled out and shot several ropes of sticky semen all over her breasts and abdomen. Unfortunately, she hadn't taken the fact that the shower was still on into consideration and the spunk was all washed away almost as soon as it landed.

"Oh," Katie said, disappointed. "I wanted to rub it in. It always feels so naughty."

As Harry sat next to Katie and recovered, Alicia turned off the shower and Angelina looked at Harry hungrily.

"So, Harry," she said seductively. "Got any left?"

In response, Harry just smiled. He and Angelina got up and made their way over to the bench next to the lockers. She had Harry lay down on the bench and sat across it between his legs. She took his half-flaccid member into her warm, wet, eager mouth. She gently sucked and licked and stroked as he slowly regained his hardness. He slid his fingers into her curly black hair and her dark brown eyes looked up at him as she worked away on his cock.

She was the tallest of the three female Gryffindor Quidditch players, several inches taller that Harry. Her breasts were larger than Katie's by a good bit and were topped with topped with very dark, almost black, areolae and nipples, the latter of which were the largest Harry had yet seen—nearly as long and as big around as his pinky to the first knuckle. She was slender with hips that were perhaps slightly wider than normal yet didn't look out of proportion on her frame. Harry assumed that she carefully groomed her pubic hair as all she had was a thin two inch long line of tightly kinked black hair that nearly touched the top of her slit. Her arse, he had noticed when she was lying next to Alicia, was, like her hips, slightly larger than normal, but her cheeks were tight and firm and looked just gorgeous on her in Harry's opinion. As she stood up after sucking his cock very expertly, he got a good look at her cunt. The outer lips were as dark as the rest of her, but the inside was very pink, the contrast with her chocolate brown skin almost giving it the appearance of being lit from within.

She moved up to him and in one quick move sank down on his cock. The velvety feel of her inner walls was wonderful. In the last 48 hours, Harry had come to appreciate the differences in female anatomy. Vicky had been by far the tightest, her immature cunt had been constricting, but in a good way. Katie was nowhere near as tight as Vicky had been, but her vagina seemed to massage him as he thrust into her depths. Gabby was, for lack of a better word, perfect. She may have been the youngest by far of the girls he'd had sex with, but she fit him as though she were made for him. He would have wondered if it was simply the bond that made it so, but she had been perfect the first time he had penetrated her, even before they'd actually bonded. Angelina's beautiful pussy was on the opposite end of the spectrum from Vicky. That's not to say that she was, well, loose—far from it. If he had to describe her he would probably have used the word satiny. She bounced up and down on his cock, her channel stimulatingly soft and smooth and slick and he thrust up to meet her with every bounce, the water still clinging to their bodies from the shower slowly dripping off of them.

He reached up and began caressing her ample bosom. He found and grasped the nipples that he found to be huge, having very few to compare them with. They were almost rock hard and he fascinated himself rolling them around in between his fingers. He soon came to realize that Angelina loved having her nipples played with and he wasted no time figuring out what set her off the most. He got his greatest reaction from her when he wrapped his index finger under the nipple and gently grazed his thumb down across the top and sliding off the end. Oddly enough, he also found a particularly sensitive spot on the underside of each of her breasts about halfway between her nipples and the flat of her chest. When he skimmed his fingernails along that spot, she would gasp and her oh-so-soft vagina would contract around his cock.

He looked to his right, and found Alicia leaning up against the lockers with Gabrielle's face buried in her crotch whilst the younger girl worked her own little pussy with her hand. From the sounds coming from the older of the two, and from the expression on her face, she was being eaten out expertly.

Harry moved his right hand down and flicked his thumb across Angelina's clit. She cried out and began bouncing more rapidly. He grabbed her hips and began thrusting more forcefully. He would occasionally run his thumb across her clit making her cry out again and again, each time was a little higher or a little louder. Finally, when he was sure that she wouldn't be able to stand it much longer, he began simply rubbing her clit. She lasted only second more as she came hard and fast. Her orgasm was over quickly, but was so powerful that it seemed to sap all her strength. She collapsed forward and lay on him, breathing hard. He continued gently thrusting into her, very close to his own orgasm.

Without warning, Gabby cried out as she came on her fingers. Again, her pleasure trickled across the bond and it was just enough to set Harry off. He grunted a few times as he spilled himself in the exhausted girl.

Almost before he could even go soft, Alicia had moved Angelina off of Harry and straddled his hips. She captured his cock between them and began sliding her aroused and glistening cunt back and forth over it. Harry found the sight erotic to say the least.

Alicia, despite being several months into her seventeenth year and therefore the oldest of the female Quidditch trio, looked the youngest. Like Katie, she was petite, only about an inch taller than Harry. Her breasts were barely a b-cup, though Harry didn't mind at all and her light brown hair was kept short. Her hips were narrow and she had no pubic hair whatsoever. Harry assumed, just as he had done with Angelina, that it was something she did herself—perhaps she shaved it—perhaps there was a magical alternative.

Harry expected her to simply raise up and take him like Angelina had done. But as soon as he was hard again from her movements, she stood up, turned around and bent over the bench, bracing herself with her hands.

"Come on, lover boy," she taunted at him looking back over her shoulder. Harry didn't need telling twice. He jumped to his feet straddling the bench and entered her from behind.

"Ooh, Merlin, Harry," she said. "That's divine!"

Alicia's pussy was a cross between Gabby's and Katie's if he'd been forced to describe it; she was tighter than Angelina, but with a massaging that was very similar to Katie although not as pronounced. Harry thought it was just lovely. He began moving with long, smooth strokes, but she seemed disappointed.

"Don't put me to sleep, Harry," she said. "Let's see you pound me into submission."

"She likes it rough, Harry," slurred Angelina from the ground next to him. Harry noticed that Gabby had found the black girls cunt and was in the process of trying to suck Harry's spunk out of it. "Don't think you're going to break her."

"Rough?" Harry asked, trying to sound reluctant. Alicia groaned disappointedly. "I'll give you rough." And without further warning, he grabbed Alicia's hips and slammed into her cunt as hard and as fast as he could. She grunted with the impact. He drove into her, leaning forward to force her down against the bench. Alicia moaned again, this time in satisfaction. The sounds of their skin slapping together filled the locker room. "Is that rough enough for you?"

"Oh—yeah." she said haltingly as he slammed into her. "Pound me hard!"

"You like that?" he asked. He drove her forward even farther, slamming into her cunt brutally. "Maybe you liked to be slapped around a bit?" he asked.

"Oh, God, yes, Harry!" she cried.

He slapped her arse. "That was a rhetorical question!" he said firmly.

"Maybe you'd like me to call you names. Wouldn't you, slut?" he asked.

"Yes." she said.

He slapped her arse on the other cheek. "Do you always answer rhetorical questions?" he demanded.

She didn't answer this time, but merely grunted in time with his violent thrusts.

"I asked you a question, slut!" she said. He punctuated the last work by reaching underneath her and seizing one of her cunt lips, pinching it. Hard.

She came around his cock. He continued pounding right through her orgasm.

"Is that your answer?" he demanded. "I ask you a question and you come?"

She was nearly incoherent. "I don't—remember—the—question," she managed.

He slapped her arse again. Twice.

"Useless, you are." And he pounded harder. She was already building to another orgasm. He reached forward and tried to grab a tit, but with the force of his thrusting, he couldn't quite manage it.

"Gabby!" he snapped. She instantly jumped up from Angelina's pussy where she'd been slowly driving the witch to a second orgasm. She smiled at Harry, happy to be included in this game. "I can't reach this slut's tits. Bite one for me."

From Alicia there was a sharp intake of breath. Gabby grabbed the closest breast and bit it right around the girl's nipple. Alicia screamed and came again. Harry pounded through it.

"God, you really are a slut," he said once she'd recovered. "You come at the drop of a hat." He gestured to Gabrielle with his head to move in front of the girl. She seemed to understand what he wanted and she positioned herself facing Alicia with a leg on either side of the bench. She then slid forward until she was within reach.

"You see that eight-year-old girl in front of you?" he demanded.

She didn't answer.

"That was not a rhetorical question!" he said as he reached around and pinched her other cunt lip. She groaned loudly.

"Yes," she said. "I see her."

"You are going to eat her out, and if you don't make her come before I do, there—will—be—hell—to—pay!" he said accentuating each word with a powerful thrust of his hips and a slap on her arse. She immediately dove into the Veela's crotch and started licking for all she was worth. Gabby caught Harry's eye and he smiled and winked at her. He intended for Gabby to wait as long as possible. She seemed to get the message and closed her eyes and bit her lip in concentration.

For several more minutes, Harry pounded away in the girl's abused pussy, occasionally slapping her arse or pinching something—usually a cunt lip—if he thought she wasn't trying hard enough with Gabby; her cheeks were nearly glowing red. Twice more she came on his thrusting erection, screaming into the child's slit.

Soon he could feel a tightening in his balls that signalled his impending release. He could also see and feel through the bond that his little sex toy was losing her battle with staving off her own rapidly approaching climax.

"Better hurry, slut," he said. "I'm not going to last much longer."

She squealed in fear and did everything she could to get Gabby to come. Finally, the girl's control was lost. She orgasmed with a rush of fluid into Alicia's mouth. The feeling of bliss pouring through the bond was, for the third time that night, enough to tip Harry over the edge. With an inarticulate cry, he emptied himself into Alicia's waiting channel. He managed to thrust about a dozen more times before he stopped and had to pull out of her. He collapsed back on the bench, exhausted.

Alicia just sat down right where she was.

"God, Harry," she said. "I never would have expected that from you. That was brilliant! I can't remember the last time I came that many times in one go."

He merely smirked back at her tiredly.

Twenty minutes later, the quintet had showered and dressed.

Katie noticed that Gabrielle was still nude. Curiosity got the better of her.

"Um, Harry," she said. "What about. . ." She gestured towards the choker-clad child.

"Gabrielle," Harry supplied.

"Gabrielle," she repeated. "Where are her clothes?"

Gabby answered. "This is all I will ever wear," she said showing off her choker.

The girls noted the "P" on the medallion.

"'P' for 'Potter'?" Alicia asked.

Gabby nodded proudly. "I'm his sex toy."

The three Quidditch girls looked at him in shock.

"I didn't ask for her," he said. "But I certainly don't want to lose her. I can't imagine my life without her."

As they started to leave, Alicia held him back.

"Just so you understand, Harry," she said warningly. "If you ever talk to me, hit me, pinch me or hurt me like that, or call me names like you did outside of us being in the act of having sex or if you so much as think about telling anyone about it, I swear I will hex you so hard that you'll never be able to enjoy your toy any more. Got it?"

"You didn't have to tell me, Alicia," he replied. "I would never say anything and I would never do anything like that in public. You have my word. You also have my word that Gabby won't say anything either."

She searched his eyes for a minute and seemed to decide to believe him.

"That being said," she went on. "I would love to have the opportunity for you to do all those things to me again sometime."

He smiled at her.

"So would I," he said. "So would I."

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .A Package from Home

Harry woke early the next morning to find a pair of enchanting pale blue eyes staring back at him. He grabbed his glasses and slipped them on.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said a bit sleepily. "Were you watching me sleep?"

She simply nodded.

He smiled at her but the serious expression lingered on her delicate features.

"And why's that?" he asked.

She sighed heavily. "Just wondering how I got to be so lucky."

"Lucky?"

Again she nodded. "You didn't know who I was—you'd never even seen me before you reached the bottom of that lake. You could have left me down there like the others and simply worried about your own hostage."

"I was dumb and believed you were really in danger."

"You cared enough about a total stranger—a little girl you'd never met or even knew existed—to risk your life in order to protect her. That is the kind of man you are, Master," she said reverently. "That is just one of the reasons you are special and I'm lucky."

"Well, when you say it that way it sounds heroic, but—" he began.

"Did it ever cross your mind," she asked, "even once while you were down there, just to leave me behind and trust to those running the task that I would be safe?"

He frowned. "Of course not," he said.

"That," she said seriously, "is what makes you a hero."

She paused and he let that thought sink in but before he could respond, she went on.

"Then, when the bond was completed," she continued, "you could have looked at me and seen only a child's body and set me aside until I matured, forcing me to months or years of sitting by and watching you take pleasure in other, more attractive girls while you waited for me to grow tits and hips and a nice round arse."

Harry looked horrified at the thought but again, she continued, before he could speak.

"Or, you could have taken advantage of the fact that I am meant to please you and merely demanded that, taking your own pleasure and leaving me to find my own in yours." There were tears in her eyes as she enumerated the possibilities. "Instead, you've seen to my desires and pleasure more than you have your own. You've included me in your encounters with other girls and you've never once asked me to stand aside or acted ashamed of me or been embarrassed of me."

"You could have rejected me completely," she said and shivered a bit at the thought. "You could have refused to complete the bond and left me to my fate. After all, as I said, you didn't know me. You could have. . ." She trailed off as though unable to bear the thought.

"I would never do any of that," Harry said adamantly. "I love you, Gabby, even if it's just because of the bond we share—and I don't believe for a minute that it is—and I'd do anything to make and keep you happy. Push you aside? Never! I couldn't do it. Use you to please me and not care about you? Impossible. Like you said, I cared about you before I knew you, how could I possibly care about you any less now that I do? And as far as being embarrassed. . . I could never be embarrassed by you. I may not have been aware enough to notice you before you came to me, but that was because I was stupid again. The connection we share opened my eyes," he paused to let his eyes travel down her body and back up. "And all they see is a very beautiful girl. Why would I be embarrassed by her?"

She grabbed him in a hug and he held her close, giving her a peck on the ear.

"Oh, Master," she said happily. "If I'd had all the time in the world to search for the perfect bond-mate and had all that time to imagine how it would be to be bonded, I would never have found anyone more perfect, nor would I have dreamed that a bond could make me feel this happy and content and complete."

He tightened his hold on her, willing her to feel the depth of his feelings for her.

"I think I know what you mean," he said. "At night, I dread going to sleep for fear of waking to find my bed empty and us having been the most wonderful dream I've ever had."

Their lips found each other in a gentle, loving kiss. Each seemed to be trying to pour their emotions—the way they both felt about the other—into that kiss. As it broke, Gabrielle was breathing faster than normal, clearly overwhelmed by the love she felt from Harry.

He carefully rolled her on her back and leaned over her. He brought his mouth up and kissed her eyebrow, then her eye, her cheek, her nose and then once again her lips. She was clutching at him desperately as though afraid he might disappear if she let go. He was using his left arm to support himself and cradle her while his left hand wandered up and down her petite body, finding every interesting place to touch and stroke and caress.

He trailed kisses down her jawline to her right ear where he spent some time making sure that he paid it all the attention it deserved. He slowly licked the inside, and swept his tongue around it's tender rim. He pulled teasingly on her earlobe with his lips and whispered, "If this is a dream, I want to sleep forever." She shivered in delight and anticipation.

His right hand found her thigh and stroked down it's length, made a swirling turn and travelled back up, past her hip and up to the side of her chest, all the while he had kissed his way down her neck towards her shoulder. On his way, he discovered another ticklish spot right at the juncture of her shoulder and neck; she couldn't help but flinch and gasp when he paid it extra attention with his lips and tongue.

Moving down, he found her right nipple, already hard and begging for his attentiveness. He licked it once and she thrust herself up, begging for more. He certainly wasn't about to refuse her. He focused on the little nub and the surrounding pink flesh, licking and sucking, nibbling and teasing to delighted reactions from the girl to which it was attached. Then, as though not wanting to play favourites, he spent equal time with it's twin. Gabrielle was beginning to moan. She had the fingers of both of her hands tangled in his sleep-tousled hair.

His right hand, which he hadn't allowed to remain idle, had continued caressing her lovely young skin. It had brushed and teased her left nipple whilst his mouth was busy with the right. When he'd shifted his oral ministrations to her left, however, the hand trailed back down the side of her. It had once again found her thigh and had gently lifted her leg so that it bent at the knee. Then it slowly slid down the back to find her firm round little arse. It seized a cheek and began softly kneading. He moved his right knee so that he was now straddling her right leg.

She pulled a bit with her hands still wrapped in his hair and he returned to her mouth where they kissed with abandon. As the kiss ended, the look in her eyes spoke volumes. She was ready; no more foreplay; she was desperate to have him inside her. He had wanted to go down on her as he still had yet to do so and he so wanted to please her that way, but this morning, he had decided, was going to be all about her. He wanted to please her, he wanted to meet her needs, he wanted to fulfil her desires.

He moved himself over so that he was between her legs, grasped his manhood and rubbed it up and down her cleft, coating it with her juices and placed it at her entrance. Somehow he knew that she wanted him to be gentle and loving right now; she wanted him to make love to her tenderly, so that was what he intended to do.

He slowly and carefully pressed himself into her. Her head went back and her eyes closed, a look of blissful contentment on her face, a slight smile gracing her lips.

"Oh, yes," she said sensually. "Oh, Master."

Once fully inside her, he began making unhurried strokes; he wanted this to last as long as he could manage. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, clinging to him as though she were drowning, as that was what he felt from her—she was drowning in his love for her.

He set a slow, easy rhythm, wanting nothing more than to funnel all his feelings for her through their union. She seemed to understand as she lay back and revelled in the sensations he was giving her.

He lowered his head and began whispering random endearments in her ear as he moved inside her. "I love you, Gabby. We'll always be together. I'll never leave you. We'll never be apart. I'll never let you go. I'll always keep you safe. You'll always be loved. I want to make love to you forever. . ."

She melted at the sentiments even as she took delight in feeling him sliding into her centre.

He kissed her lips and their tongues danced around each other. He could feel her passion for him pouring back through the bond even more than he ever had before. He wasn't sure if it was because she was feeling it more intensely or because he was more focused on what she wanted at this moment and so was more open to receiving the feelings she was sending. Either way, he was entranced by the bliss he was able to give to her.

As the minutes passed, their lovemaking continued, hardly picking up any speed at all, just slow, methodical movements, drawing her inexorably towards completion. He moved a hand down to barely stimulate her clitoris as he felt her mounting need for release. She cried out when he touched it and drew him down for a soul-searing kiss. She was close, now, he could tell.

"I love you, Gabby," he said when the kiss was broken. "More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

"I love—you, too—Master," she panted.

He continued stroking and caressing her little button and sliding inside her.

She began contracting spasmodically around him and he knew that she was on the very edge. He slowly lessened the pressure on her clit and moved his hand away to extend the time on her plateau as long as possible.

She was mumbling now—uttering nonsensical gibberish and tossing her head back and forth. He knew this was going to be a big one.

Still she contracted around him and he slowed the pace of his thrusts. She was inching closer and closer. He caressed various parts of her body with his hands, being sure to stay away from any sensitive spots like her nipples for fear of sending her over the edge.

She stopped mumbling and began a chanting, "Oh, oh, oh, oh. . ." that increased in pitch slightly with every repetition.

She was so close now that any extra stimulation would have pushed her over; he was careful not to so much as let his cock throb. And still he ever so slowly slid down into her and back out.

"Oh, God," she finally said. "Oh, Master! I'm going to— I'm going to— I'm— I'm— Ahhhhh!" The scream was torn from her throat as she convulsed and orgasmed. Such a power climax it was that her fluids gushed around his cock. Again, she clung to him desperately, and the paroxysms of her small body were such that she nearly threw him off of her. The rapturous pleasure flooding over the bond to him caused his balls to contract, pushing him into his own release even though he'd been nowhere near. His sperm mixed with her secretions and dribbled out around him, dripping down on the bed.

They held each other as they came down from their ecstasy and their heartbeats and breathing began to slow.

Eventually, they simply lay together, giving no thought to getting up or cleaning themselves up, but simply enjoying the feeling of being held by someone that loved them. After all, it was Saturday and they could lie in all morning if they wished—and at that moment they both seemed to think that would be a very good idea indeed..

"Better get up, Harry," said Ron as he threw open Harry's curtains. "You're going to miss—" He stopped suddenly.

"Damn it, Harry," he said after taking in the scene before him. "What did I say about covering up if you're sleeping like that?"

Harry looked back at his friend irritably, annoyed that he and Gabby had been intruded upon. "I wasn't sleeping," he said.

"Eeww," Ron said, making a disgusted face. "I don't want to hear that!" The curtains dropped back down and Ron was gone.

They tried to recapture the contented peace they'd been sharing, only to find that it was gone at least for the near future. Harry cursed Ron and Gabby grinned at her Master, kissing him on the nose.

"I love you, Master," she said tenderly. "More than should be possible."

After a few more minutes of wishing they'd not been interrupted, they gathered their things and left for the shower, Gabby still dripping their combined juices down her legs.

As they ate breakfast in the Great Hall alone—Hermione had apparently eaten earlier and Ron seemed to be trying his hardest to forget what it was he thought Harry was doing in his bed—they enjoyed the time to themselves. Harry noticed Fleur, however, sitting at the Ravenclaw table with an inscrutable look on her face. He discretely pointed her out to Gabrielle who growled quietly; clearly she was not over her anger with her sister. They looked up as the post arrived, not expecting anything but, as usual, checking to make sure. They were both surprised when a stately black owl landed in front of them. It had a package attached to it's legs with a letter stuck on top.

"That's one of our family owls," said Gabby excitedly.

Harry retrieved the package which was addressed to him. He pulled the letter off and opened it, but seeing both their names, he tucked it back in the envelope and decided to wait until they could have a little more privacy.

After they finished eating they went in search of a private spot, finally finding a disused classroom on the first floor where sat down next to each other before Harry took the letter back out and held it so they both could read it.

Dear Gabrielle and Harry,

I have addressed this package to you, Harry for fear that it would not reach you if I addressed it to my daughter. It is for the both of you anyway. I have done a bit of research and discovered this book about Veela and their abilities. It is the most complete reference of Veela "Desmi" there is. I hope it will be of use to you and may answer some of your questions.

I am also writing this to let you know that I have filed your union through the BLCM here in France. I am aware of your notoriety, Harry, so I have called in some favours owed me to ensure that when the forms are filed in the British Ministry, they will be conveniently buried so as to keep it out of the press. So as of Thursday afternoon, you are officially Harry and Gabrielle Potter.

I am sorry to say that your father did not take the news as well as I'd hoped, my little angel, and I did not expect him to be happy about it. He actually threatened to come try to take you home to France! I managed to calm him down and, while he is still not pleased, he is, at least, not planning on causing any international incidents. Rest assured that he will be all right with your relationship by the time you visit this summer, I will see to it that he is.

I love you, Gabrielle and I am looking forward to getting to know my new son so that I may someday say the same to him.

Love,

Your Mother.

After they'd both finished reading it, Gabrielle took the letter from him and examined it carefully.

"That's interesting," she said.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I assume mother used a translation charm on this since her written English is atrocious but I see it as English instead of French. Always before, translation charmed writing appeared to me in French."

"Perhaps it's the bond," suggested Harry. "You did start speaking perfect English after it formed."

"I suppose," she said after giving it some thought, "that since you speak English, the bond made English my first language. Now that I think about it, I actually think in English now. I'd never really noticed the change before."

Harry took the letter back. "What's this 'Desmi' thing she talked about?"

Gabrielle perked up. "Desmi is the actual name for what the bond is. We've been just calling it a bond, but that's a bit silly, really. That's like calling a levitation charm a 'floaty spell'. To be honest, I'd just forgotten the actual name." She grinned impishly at him. "It's not like I came to Scotland hoping to initiate one."

"Oh, is that so my little minx?" kidded Harry. They both laughed before he returned to the letter. "What's the 'BLCM'?"

"It's the Magical Creatures Liaison Office, or in French the Bureau de Liaison de Créatures Magiques. It's the part of the French Bureau de Magique that deals with magical creatures like Veela. They keep a registry of Veela Desmi so that those who are bonded have the rights that they should."

"Does that mean we're. . . married?" he asked.

"No," she said. "It would be very similar if we had the usual Desmi, but we don't. I'm not completely sure but I believe you would now be listed as part of the Delacour family, the same as if you had been born into it, and I would be listed as your unsellable, priceless possession."

"You're a possession?" he asked, horrified.

"Of course," she said nonchalantly. "You own me, Master. I am your property. I can't own anything, even my lovely choker actually belongs to you."

"But you're not a thing, " Harry said fiercely. "They shouldn't be allowed to call you that!"

"Master," she said soothingly, and he instantly calmed. "I know that you don't think of me as a thing. I know that without you having to say it. I know because of what you did for me this morning. But that does not change the fact that I am your possession; I am something to be owned—an object." Harry started to protest again. "But I would rather be an object and be owned by you than to be a person and have to go back to France alone. It doesn't matter what they say. It doesn't matter what's written on those forms. What matters is how you see me when you look at me and the fact that I can see in your eyes how much you care."

He pulled her into an embrace and they held each other for several minutes. When they broke apart, Harry felt a bit better, though truth be told he still wasn't completely happy, but he'd realized that there was nothing he could do about it and what she said was right, it really didn't matter what was written on some government paperwork, only how he and Gabby felt. If she was happy with it, he would find a way to be all right with it as well. They decided to open the book and see what they could find about their Desmi. Apolline had been kind enough to mark the proper place for them. Gabby took the book and read aloud:

Desmi Didoneros:

Very little is known about this Desmi. It is believed that it may be possible for a Veela to form this Desmi with a non-Veela as with other Desmis, however, with this particular Desmi being as rare as it is, it is not known if one has ever existed or if it is even at all possible. . .

"Well, we know it's possible," commented Harry. "I hope they don't try to come study us or anything."

"We needn't worry about that," Gabby replied. "A Desmi is almost a sacred thing to the Veela. No matter how rare an opportunity this is, they would never violate our privacy like that."

Harry felt better and Gabby continued.

. . .or if it is even at all possible, though as all other Desmi are possible with a non-Veela partner, it is likely this one is as well.

This Desmi forms when one partner dominates the other, who submits. The dominating partner becomes the Tyrannos (or, informally, the Prime) and the submitting partner becomes the Daman (or, informally Subdued or Sub—though, not to be confused with the Submissive in a Desmi Dulos [see page 134] or the similar Desmi Dulo-Didoneros [see page 137]).

There is almost no information about the Daman in this Desmi. All that is known is that he or she seems to become invisible to all but the Tyrannos, though there is conflicting information on the matter. One source states that the Daman can occasionally become visible, while another seems to imply that the Daman is not invisible at all but simply chooses to remain hidden. Neither claim has been substantiated, however.

"Well, we know that's wrong, don't we," Harry said cheekily.

The Tyrannos' sex drive is known to be increased and they seem to be habitually unfaithful to their Daman, having sexual relations with several partners (though it is assumed that their Daman is also a sexual partner). It is believed that the Daman's position in the Desmi does not allow for them to complain about their partner's infidelity.

Gabby looked up at Harry with excited eyes. "As if I'd complain," she said. "Perhaps if you didn't allow me to join in. . ."

"Never happen, love," he said and pulled her into a brief hug.

The Tyrannos is said to gain an intuitive knowledge of what their sexual partner desires and that this applies to any partner, not only the Daman. It is unknown exactly how this ability functions, however.

"That explains some things," Harry said. "Like, with Katie—I knew she didn't like pain at all, even before you said anything."

"What about, er," she stumbled. "I don't remember her name—the one that liked it rough."

"Alicia."

"Yeah, Alicia," she said. "You were easy on her until, er, the other girl told you to be rough. Why didn't you know what she wanted?"

"I did," he said. "I felt an. . . instinctive desire to do what I did to her. Only knowing her as much as I did, I never would have suspected that she would like that kind of thing; off the Quidditch pitch, she's very gentle and she's so petite—almost dainty. I thought my instincts were wrong. I guess I should have listened to them. Once I did, I seemed to be able to give her exactly what she wanted."

"I hope you get to again. It was kind of fun," she said.

Harry nodded and then Gabby continued reading.

Possibly to aid in his desires to engage in sex with parters outside the Desmi, a male Tyrannos is said to become selectively infertile. That is to say that he is unable to produce offspring unless he makes a conscious choice to do so during copulation. It is unknown whether the same rule applies to a female Tyrannos as there is no information, though it is believed that it does. It is also unknown whether this selective infertility is present in the Daman. It is likely, however, due to the Daman's function (that of perpetually willing sexual partner), that if the Daman is female that she will be completely infertile, though that is, admittedly, speculation.

Gabby stopped reading as she noticed Harry becoming agitated.

There was a pause where Harry tried to work out exactly what he was thinking. Pregnancy? Infertility? But that was Veela, wasn't it?

"It's talking about Veela, right?" Harry asked. "So it would. . . But I'm human. . . I never. . . What if. . . Oh, God!" He found himself on the verge of panic. "Vicky, Katie, Angelina, Alicia! We didn't. . . I never. . ." His eyes were darting around the room now, nearly expecting enraged parents, or rather possible-soon-to-be-grandparents, to suddenly surround him and demand his head.

"Master," Gabby soothed. "It's all right."

"But I just didn't think! I should have thought. . . But I didn't. . . And then we. . ." he rambled on. He was on his feet now, pacing like a caged animal desperate for escape. "And they never. . . But I should have. . ."

"Master," Gabby repeated, also on her feet, trying her best to get him to calm down and return to his seat. He failed to notice the quirk in her lips as she watched him struggle to contain his rising panic "There's probably nothing to worry about."

Something of what she was saying was getting through. "Nothing to. . ." he repeated. Then he seemed to snap into coherence. "What if I got them pregnant?" he said as though it was a certainty.

She tried to cover a giggle with her hand.

He stared at her incredulously. How could she be laughing? This was serious! He'd spent the last few days having unprotected sex with random girls—he could be a father several times over now and she was laughing. His life could be ruined and she thought it was hilarious.

"You think this is funny?" he snapped. She instantly quieted at his tone, her smile slipped quickly off her face.

"Master—" she began gently, but he cut her off.

"Any one of those girls could be pregnant!" he shouted. "Or they all could. Of course you think it's funny. I've been shagging my head of with every girl I see because of this fucking bond!"

No sooner had it left his mouth than he regretted saying it. When he saw the look on Gabby's face, he nearly died. She looked utterly horrified; her mouth was open in shock, her eyes wide and already glistening with tears and she had recoiled as if she'd been struck.

"Gabby, I—" But she was already running for the door. "Gabby wait!" He managed to catch her before she'd made it out of the room. "I didn't mean it. I—"

"Don't lie to me!" she cried. "You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it." With surprising strength, she shoved him off of her. He tripped over his own feet in surprise and landed on his backside. He looked up at her, heartbroken by the pain in her eyes—pain he'd caused by speaking without thinking. "I take back everything I said this morning," she said, the anguish obvious in her voice. She opened the door and without turning back, said, "I wish you'd left me down there."

Then she was gone.

He scrambled to his feet and rushed for the door. The hall was empty.

"Gabrielle!" he called. He received no answer. He picked a direction and ran, hoping that he could catch her and explain himself—beg forgiveness. He reached the end of the hall but she was still nowhere to be seen. He called for her again with the same result.

He searched desperately for her through every corridor and short-cut and every secret passage he came across; several people staring at him as he ran by like a madman. A few even asked him if there was something wrong. He desperately wished he could ask one of them if they'd seen her, but he knew that would be useless.

Why had he said what he'd said? So what if he'd had sex with those girls without any protection, it certainly wasn't her fault that he had. And what did it really matter anyway? What's done is done; he could have just been more careful in future. But even if he had a hundred children by a hundred different girls, it would be OK as long as his Gabby was there with him.

But now she wasn't. He'd driven her away. He'd never wished that he could take something back more than what he'd said to her.

He tried using the bond to sense where she was, but either he simply couldn't do it or she didn't want to be found. Either way, the result was the same.

He eventually returned to the first floor room where his Gabby had disappeared and found the book right where she'd left it. He picked it up and sat down and just held it in his lap, wishing that she would walk back through the door so that he could get down on his knees and beg her never to leave again.

As the minutes ticked by, he couldn't help the tears spilling over his cheeks. A careless bit of panic and he'd said something so stupid that he'd hurt her, the one person who lived to bring him pleasure. He'd lashed out at her—practically blamed her for bonding him and his problems which he wasn't even sure existed yet. And really, what did it matter if he got one or even more that one girl pregnant? It was inconsequential next to losing Gabby.

He idly opened the book and looked at the first page, wishing that it could somehow tell him how to find her. What he read though, made him feel queasy.

The Veela Desmi is not to be entered into lightly or without the other party's permission. The Desmi is the most intimate form of connection between two individuals and cannot be severed outside of death. Initiating a Desmi without the knowledge and consent of the other party is the worst crime a Veela can commit and is considered to be a form of rape. The penalty for being found guilty of initiating a Desmi without a partner's consent is left to the victim to decide and therefore usually results in death to ensure the termination of the unwanted Desmi.

Was that what was going through Gabby's mind? Did she think he had rejected her and that he would have her. . .?

Now more desperate than ever to find her, he resumed his search after picking up the letter and slipping it into the book. But as he covered more ground and looked in more classrooms and behind more tapestries without success, the fear that she could become unnoticeable by him the same way that she was unnoticeable by everyone else began to creep along the edges of his brain.

He was miserable. For the first time in his life, he not only didn't know what to do, but he had absolutely no one to turn to.

He became aware of a dull ache, right behind his breastbone. He felt as though someone where trying to remove his ribcage by simply pulling it out of his chest. So this is what it feels like to hurt someone you love, he thought morosely. He placed his hand where it ached and had a sudden flash of memory from three nights before; he smiled wistfully as he remembered his Gabby had pressed her had on that very spot.

"'Arry," said Fleur behind him, startling him out of his reverie and his search. He turned. She didn't look mad; he supposed that she hadn't seen his Gabby. If she had, she'd be killing him right about now. And he would let her.

"Now is not a good time, Fleur," he said. Part of him wanted to ask her if she'd seen her sister. But after yesterday, how could he admit that she'd been right about the kind of person he was? But then, who else would her sister go to? He had to ask her. Before he could, she went on.

"'Arry," she said again. "After yesterday, I was wondering if you could maybe use your 'pull' again?"

That brought him up short.

"What?" he asked stupidly.

"I would like you to use your 'pull' on me again. I 'ave never felt anyzing like it before. I took almost an hour to recover from what you did."

This conversation was suddenly making him feel queasy. The aching in his chest increased. She wanted him to pleasure her? She wanted an orgasm high?

He turned to leave; she clearly didn't know about his Gabby or where she was.

"Please, 'Arry," she pleaded. "Please. I need zis, 'Arry. I'll do—"

"Goodbye, Fleur," he said. "Now is really not a good time. It will never be a good time for that."

He left Fleur standing there and continued on.

It was nearly half an hour later that he opened a door on the third floor and found Gabrielle sitting at a desk with her head resting on her folded arms.

For a long moment there was no reaction from either of them; Gabby gave no indication that she even knew he was there and Harry was afraid to say anything, because with her just sitting there he could almost pretend that everything was OK. But as the moment stretched on, it began to grow uncomfortable and Harry felt as though she was waiting for him to say something.

He took a deep breath. "I—" He stopped, unsure of himself. Gabby raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were puffy and red and there were visible tear streaks running down her cheeks. She still looked beautiful to Harry. "I'm sorry." he said lamely.

She simply kept looking at him as though waiting for him to go on. It was disconcerting.

"I was scared," he said a bit nervously, setting the book down on a nearby desk. "I realized that I had been doing something stupid and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done. I know that doesn't excuse it, but I hope that someday you can forgive me." He looked at the floor. "Even though I don't deserve it."

There was a prolonged silence again. Then, almost so quietly that he thought he'd imagined it, Gabby spoke.

"I'm sorry, too." He looked up at her to find that she was now the one scrutinizing the floor. "I've done something unforgivable."

"I don't care," he said quickly.

"No, Master, you don't understand," she said. She took a deep steadying breath and steeled herself. "I've done something that will likely result in my death."

"What?" he said shocked.

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I told you the Veela consider the Desmi nearly sacred," she said shakily. "Initiating one with someone who's unwilling, to them, is worse than rape, it's a violation of the deepest kind. And I've done it to you."

"But you couldn't help it," he said worriedly.

"It doesn't matter. Our Desmi has been registered so the Veela council will know of it's existence. If I leave, I have nowhere to go; they will find out what I've done and I'll be brought before them to face the consequences. The Veela council tend to look down on part-Veelas and convict them automatically," she said, trying hard not to sob. "The choice of punishment is usually left to the victim, but since you're not Veela, you have no say. The punishment is death."

Harry was stunned. He'd thought he was going to be so happy, and now this.

"But, you don't have to leave," he said. "They have no reason to come here, and if they do we can tell them that I'm happy with the bond, er, Desmi."

"They would know if you lied," she said sadly.

"But— No, it wouldn't be a lie," he said resolutely. "I do want it. I am happy with it."

"But what you said," she pressed, "you meant it. Didn't you? The truth, Master. Please."

"I—" He gulped. This was delicate. "At the time I said it, I think part of me did."

"But you're suddenly fine with being violated?" she asked doubtfully.

"Yes— I mean no— I mean—" He stopped and took a breath. Damn this was hard.

"You haven't violated me," he said carefully. "I may not have been aware of what you did at the time, but I certainly don't regret it."

She just looked at him disbelievingly.

"I realized something while I was looking for you," he said. "I might never have expected you to come into my life, but I can't live without you now."

She shook her head. "Master," she said through her tears, "when I am gone, you will still have the 'pull'. You won't go without sex. You needn't worry."

"I don't care about that!" he said fiercely. "I care about you!"

She looked at him now with what he thought was a glimmer of hope.

"You said this morning that you were lucky. I'm the lucky one. I thought my life was pretty good, until you came along and showed me just how empty it truly was. You showed me that I was just existing and then you showed me how to live."

"But what you said. . ."

"I know," he said sadly. "I was stupid. I'll never say it again because I don't feel that way any more. If I could go back in time, I would erase what I did say."

She smiled. "Really?"

"Absolutely," he said. "Of course, if I could go back in time, I'd go back to the morning of the tournament—"

At this, her smile faded, but he continued without so much as a pause.

"—and get down on my knees and beg you to initiate a Desmi."

She seemed to be studying him intently.

"You mean that, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I will gladly do anything it takes to keep you in my life."

She got out of the chair and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms. They held each other for several minutes, simply basking in the feelings they felt from each other.

"I love you, Master," Gabby said finally.

"I love you, too, my Gabby," he replied, and she squeezed him tighter. "More than should be possible."

"I was so scared, Master," she admitted.

"I know," he said trying to comfort her. "So was I."

"I was afraid you were going to reject me without knowing the consequences," she said, still trembling.

"Never," he said firmly. "I love you. And they can't take you away from me. I won't let them, all right?" She looked up at him and nodded shakily. "You belong to me, remember? If they ever try to come take you, they'll have to go through me. You're mine. I won't let them have you. Not ever."

She tightened her grip on him and they simply held each other for a while.

Once she stopped trembling and seemed to simply be enjoying the feel of his arms around her he asked, "Are we OK now?"

She nodded.

"You're feeling better?"

She nodded again, but he noticed a slight hesitation before she did so.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" he asked.

She shook her head. He placed a finger on her chin and gently drew her head up so that she was looking at him.

"Please tell me," he said. "I don't care what it is; if it's possible, I'll do it."

He noticed that she was blushing.

"Is it something embarrassing?" he asked kindly.

Her eyes went wide with the realization that she'd been discovered. She looked away and nodded slightly.

"Gabby," he said, coaxing her head back to look at him again. "You never have to be embarrassed with me. If there's something I can do for you to make you feel better, please tell me."

"Master, I—" she began. She stopped and gathered herself. "What you did for me this morning was wonderful. It will be one of my most cherished memories for a long time. But—"

She took a breath. He gently caressed her to try to comfort her.

"After what happened," she went on slowly. He got the feeling that she was speaking carefully so that he wouldn't misunderstand. "I think I need to feel like a possession—like you want me to be something you own and use just to please yourself."

His brow knitted as he tried to figure out what exactly she was asking him.

"How can I do that?" he asked in a tone that said he was willing to do whatever she said. There was a long silence as she searched his eyes for any doubt. He tried to be resolute in his desire to do anything for her.

"Rape me," she said finally.

He bit his tongue to keep from letting slip his initial, instinctive reaction. Instead, he simply said, "That will help?"

"I think right now I need to feel used and. . . exploited."

"You'll let me know if I get too rough?"

She hesitated a bit before saying, "No."

"What if I hurt you?" he asked, trying not to sound horrified.

"If you're really willing to do this for me, then you will hurt me," she said softly. "I will heal." He gulped but nodded understandingly.

They stood there and stared at each other for several moments.

Gathering his courage, Harry said, "This is the last time I ask. Are you completely sure?" She nodded seriously. "Do you have any doubts at all about this?"

"Absolutely not," she said, shaking her head for emphasis.

Still he stood there, almost expecting her to change her mind, though he knew she wouldn't. After nearly half a minute, she seemed to decide that he wasn't going to do it after all and broke away from him heading for the door. Just as she got there however, it slammed shut as he locked and silenced it. She turned to face him with a question in her eyes.

"Going somewhere?" he asked coldly. He was going to do his best to give her what she wanted. He could already a need to force her—to hurt her—that he knew was coming from the new abilities the bonding gave him. Knowing that those feelings were of what she wanted and that he wasn't simply becoming a sadistic, uncaring arse made him feel, if not comfortable, then at least better.

He began to advance on her menacingly. She couldn't seem to stop herself backing away from him with fear in her eyes. He slowly unfastened his robes as he moved, backing her into a corner. She bumped into the wall and looked around to see that she was trapped. She darted to his right and he lunged for her. He managed to grab her upper arm, but she wrenched it out of his grasp. She fled to the opposite side of the teacher's desk.

"That's not going to save you, you know," he said as he finished taking off his robes, letting them drop where they may. Her eyes flicked around the room as though looking for a way out. He began to circle the desk and she moved to keep it between them. With a flick of his wand, and a quiet "protego" a shield extended from one end of the desk to the wall impeding her movement. She bumped into it and quickly ran her hands along it's surface to see if she could find a way around it. Harry moved so that she was trapped with the desk on one side, the wall on the other and the shield behind her; there was nowhere for her to go.

"What are you running for?" he asked.

She turned to face him, pressing her back against the shield with her feet skidding on the floor as she tried in vain to push the barrier out of her way. He took a step towards her and then another. She glanced at the desk and, apparently deciding that it was her only option, jumped up onto it, scrambling over it's dusty surface. He rushed forward and managed to seize her left ankle. She kicked back at him, so he dropped his wand and grabbed her right ankle as well. He spread her legs which had the effect of keeping her face down.

"I told you you can't get away," he said darkly. She squirmed in his grasp but he was barely able to maintain his hold; she was quite strong. "You asked for this, so now you're going to get it."

She grunted a bit as she tried to pull away from him using the far edge of the desk for support.

"Let me go!" she said and tried kicking her legs out of his hands but found he was holding her too tightly.

He jerked her legs around so that she was suddenly flipped on her back. She was startled by the action and he used the brief moment that she wasn't struggling to get a firm hold on her right leg, which he hauled back and jerked so that she was, in effect, whipped around, sliding off the end of the desk and landing in a heap on the floor with another grunt.

In an instant he was on her forcibly holding her down even as she struggled to get away. He noticed that she wasn't trying to fight him at all, she merely tried to escape and a new understanding hit him: what she really wanted was sex that she had no control over. His confidence built as, now that he had captured her and was forcibly restraining her, he was beginning to feel pleasure trickling over the bond.

He manoeuvred himself between her legs, sitting on her feet and pinning her arms above her head. He took one of her nipples in his free hand and pinched as hard as he could. She screamed in pain and glared at him but he felt a flood of arousal and pleasure from the bond; this was exactly what she wanted. He pulled up, distending the flesh of her chest as he went and she cried out and lifted herself up as much as she could to lessen the pain. He quickly let go and slapped her hard enough to toss her head to the side. She looked back up at him angrily with a trickle of blood dripping from her split lip.

"You'd better learn to just lie there and enjoy this," he growled, though, he could tell from the bond that she actually was enjoying it. He slid his free hand harshly down her nude form. "You walk around naked all the time and think you can get away with it?"

He found her cunt; it was hot with her arousal, but he found it surprisingly quite dry—he could only assume that she could control how much fluid she produced and wanted this to be as realistic as possible. Without any warning at all, he shoved two fingers as deep as he could get them. She recoiled in pain and attempted to draw away from his invading fingers as he began fucking them into her.

"You like this, don't you, slut?" he asked. She whimpered and shook her head. He pulled his hand out of her pussy, grabbed a handful of her hair and turned her head to face him. "Answer me!" he shouted.

She struggled a bit but finally said, "No." He slapped her again, the side of her face was still red from the last time. Then he shoved his fingers back into her and started fucking her with them again.

"Liar," he said. "You love this, I can tell." She glared at him again. He pulled his thrusting fingers from her still-dry sex and pulled his boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. He spat on his fingers and rubbed them around her entrance, trying to lubricate her a bit; he didn't want this to hurt either of them.

After a few more applications of spit, he placed himself at the opening to her cunt and shoved hard. He hadn't lubed her enough, apparently, she was still a bit dry on the inside. She screamed, fresh tears spilling from her eyes but he could still sense that this is just what she wanted.

She felt tighter than she ever had before and wondered if it was because of the lack of moisture. He gritted his teeth and began thrusting into her tight, dry pussy, with her whimpering and grunting on nearly every stroke.

After a few seconds of his pounding into her, he began to feel some lubrication, she was still tighter than normal, but she was now wet. She pulled her head up and looked down at the point where their bodies joined with a slight look of surprise on her face. After looking a moment, she lowered her head, appearing satisfied for a moment before going back to her whimpering.

She lay there, still held down, unable to move her arms or feet as he thrust viciously into her. Harry, despite the violent nature of their fucking and knowing it was all a very realistic game, was starting to build toward his orgasm. His approaching release was aided by the feelings of bliss filtering through the bond and his instinctive desire to force and hurt her provided him by his new abilities that assured him that he was doing exactly what she wanted.

He stopped thrusting and, without releasing her hands, got to his feet, lifting her up as well. As they stood, he looked down and saw exactly why she had suddenly become slick—she was bleeding. Not heavily, but certainly enough to make him concerned. He caught her attention and asked with his eyes if she was all right. There was a flicker of acknowledgement and acceptance before returning to her look of defiance but it was enough to assure him that she not only knew about it but was fine with it.

He forced her over to the dusty teacher's desk and bent her over, held her down, spread her legs and thrust back into her overly tight and abused pussy from behind. She cried out again as he slammed back into her and continued to vocalize her pain as he rhythmically knocked her legs into the side of the desk with each thrust.

The sensations of her cunt around his cock and the feelings of pleasure building in the bond was driving him to the edge. He was surprised that he could find anything sexy about what he was doing to her but he did. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she desperately wanted it, or perhaps it was the forbidden nature of the act they were faking or perhaps the novelty of such a unique experience normally so far out of his character. Whatever it was, it didn't really matter.

"Oh, God," he said. "I'm going to fill you so full that you're going to be dripping for days."

"No!" she cried. She shook her head and tried struggling against him again but he simply quickened his pace.

He was closer now, the pressure building in his balls. She continued shaking her head as though that would keep him from climaxing inside her.

"Tell me you want me to come inside you," he commanded.

"No," she said. He grabbed one of her flailing arms and twisted it behind her back.

"Say it," he demanded.

She moaned in pain. He forced the arm higher.

"Say it," he repeated.

"Ow!" she cried.

His movements became more merciless, managing to shift the heavy desk by slamming her lower half into it as he thrust forcefully into her. He pushed the arm even higher. She screamed.

"Puh—lease," she stuttered as he drove into her again and again. "C—ome—in—muh—ee."

He jerked the arm and she cried out.

"Beg me to fill your little slut pussy."

"Ple—ease," she whimpered and cried as he pounded. "Fill—ll—my—pus—sy. Pl—ease. "

The feelings coming through the bond were heavenly and having her beg him to come was just to much for him. He grunted and orgasmed, spraying her channel with thick ropes of his seed. He thrust a few more times as his climax eased, then he pulled himself out of her and collapsed on the floor.

Now that the act was over, the feelings welling up inside him were primarily disgust and self-loathing. He stared in numb shock at the blood on his wilting cock. How could he have done such a thing? She hadn't even orgasmed and she'd never failed to orgasm with any sexual contact. Was he some kind of monster now?

He felt two arms sliding around him; he hadn't even noticed her getting up off the desk. Before he could pull away from her, she kissed him on the cheek and said, "Thank you, Master. That was perfect."

He turned to look at her and saw drying blood coating her inner thighs before looking away in shame. "I hurt you," he said simply.

"Yes," she said. "And it was exactly what I wanted you to do. You used me."

"You really liked that? You didn't. . ." he couldn't bring himself to point out that she hadn't— finished.

She giggled a bit. The sound did much to heal his frayed nerves and his self doubt. "You have no idea how hard it was to keep myself from coming, Master," she said. "In fact—" She took his right hand and placed it on her sex. "—now that it's over, I really need to orgasm. Please?"

He was flushed with sudden understanding. She really had wanted to be hurt, and the only reason that it all now seemed too real to him was because she'd done everything in her power to make it real to her. He looked into her eyes, still half expecting to see pain and hatred. Instead, he only saw love and a new, deeper trust than he'd ever seen in her eyes before.

He stroked experimentally, afraid that she'd be too sore, but she closed her eyes and moaned blissfully. He instinctively increased his pressure and speed, until he was frantically rubbing her cunt. He scraped across her clit and she came convulsively, clamping her legs around his hand and spraying his hand with her pent-up fluids. He slowed his stroking, but she cried out, "No! Don't stop! Harder! Faster!"

He did as she commanded. As she was coming down off of her first orgasm, she came again, more of her juices coating his hand, and dripping down on the floor. Still he kept up his stroking and she came again. And again.

After a chain of seven massive orgasms, she finally grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her cleft. She eventually pulled him into an embrace which he returned and they clung to each other for several minutes while her breathing slowed.

"Thank you, Master," she said finally into his chest. "I know that was difficult for you. I can't thank you enough for doing that for me. I love you."

"I love you, Gabby. My Gabby," he said.

"Don't worry, Master," she said. "I won't ask you to do that often. But I can't tell you how happy it makes me to know that you're willing to do that for me."

"Anything for my girl," he said.

He looked down at the blood still coating her legs and mound.

"Are you all right?" he asked, scared of the answer.

She dipped her head. "Not yet," she said. "I made myself as small inside as an eight-year-old human girl and you weren't gentle. I think you tore me open a bit."

He looked horrified again.

"Don't worry, Master," she said. "Remember, Veela are sexual creatures. We heal faster than humans to help maintain our sex appeal. And the Desmi we share will likely make me heal faster. Though, I might be sore for the rest of the day, so you'll have to find someone else to fuck tonight." She smirked at him.

He looked at her with a shocked expression that she would suggest such a thing after all that had happened that day. But the look of sheer innocence on her face as she said it caused him to laugh.

"I think I need to learn a contraceptive charm before that," he said when he'd recovered.

"Or we could find out if you're infertile," she said. He looked at her questioningly. "That's what I was trying to tell you before you. . ."

"Went mad?" he offered.

She tightened her hold to show that it was all right.

"If this Desmi causes male Veela to be selectively infertile, then it's likely you are to. We just have to find out," she said.

He looked at her sheepishly. "I should listen to you more often," he said.

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .A Crush

Harry realized that he was more disturbed by their session of pretend rape than he'd thought. As they'd returned to Gryffindor tower, cleaned up and settled in the dorm room, Harry kept finding himself looking at Gabby to make sure that she was all right. He had noticed that she was walking a bit gingerly; something she'd never done before, even after their first time, which hadn't exactly been gentle.

"Are you sure you're OK?" he asked again as he watched her get comfortable in his bed.

She smiled up at him, but it was clear that she was beginning to grow weary of his concern.

"I'll be fine, Master," she said patiently. "I've already healed. I'm just still a bit sore. Please don't worry any more. It'll be as though it never happened by tomorrow."

"I'm not sure it'll ever be like it didn't happen," he said, a bit haunted. He feared he wouldn't be able to forget injuring her and taking pleasure in it.

She climbed onto her knees on the edge of his bed and placed her arms on his shoulders to focus his attention solely on her.

"I am fine, Master," she said forcefully. "There is enough Veela in me that I am physically healed. Yes, I'm still a bit sore but that too will be gone by the morning."

"But. . ." he began.

"But nothing," she interrupted. "You did nothing to me that I did not want you to do so you didn't harm me mentally. And you did something for me that you weren't comfortable doing because I needed you to do it, so emotionally I couldn't be happier that it happened. All right?"

He slowly realized that he really hadn't harmed her, so there was nothing to feel guilty about. When he let go of the guilt, there was nothing there but happiness and pride that he'd pleased her. He gathered her in a hug which she returned with enthusiasm.

Eventually, they decided, since Gabby was so sore, that she would stay in bed instead of following Harry around, at least until later. She was planning on finishing the section of the book they'd received about their Desmi. Harry was headed to the library after Gabby suggested that he find a way to test his sperm to he if he was indeed infertile since it would be good to know for future—and past—encounters. Though as Gabby had pointed out to him, Katie, Angelina and Alicia were already sexually active and therefore had probably made sure they were protected themselves, while Vicky was likely too young to get pregnant even if he wasn't subject to the selective infertility aspect of their Desmi.

Harry made his way down to the library after promising to bring Gabby up some lunch as he didn't want her to have to walk down so many stairs to get to the Great Hall.

The library was not normally full on a late Saturday morning, but it seemed even emptier than normal. He slipped down aisles and between shelves covered in large heavy tomes as quietly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of someone wondering what he was doing.

He had to search a bit to locate the section that dealt with human reproduction and discovered it was in a back corner of the library. The portion that contained information on fertility was not large, perhaps two dozen volumes total, but to find the right book might take him some time. He wondered briefly why they weren't in the restricted section given the sensitive nature of their subject but was thankful that they were not.

The first few volumes contained nothing but rites and rituals having to do with fertility, he found one book that contained seemingly every spell that might increase fertility or cure infertility, but oddly, nothing about detecting infertility. As he was pulling out the seventh book, he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye that he took to be someone walking by the end of the row. When he turned to look, however, he saw no one there. He flipped open the book and searched through it.

Halfway through he heard a quiet noise in the same spot where he'd seen the movement. He turned to look again, expecting to see no one but instead, saw a girl peeking around the end of a shelf. As he watched, she seemed to gain some courage and stepped out into the aisle before approaching him a bit timidly.

Most students at Hogwarts took to wearing their uniforms even on week-ends simply out of habit. Harry generally did simply because he didn't like the thought of wearing Dudley's old cast-offs around the castle. This girl, however—and she looked familiar though he couldn't place her at the moment—was wearing a dark, almost knee-length skirt and a pale lavender sleeveless jumper over a white long-sleeve blouse with a book-bag thrown over one shoulder. She had soft looking shoulder length light brown hair and blue-green eyes. She was cute—not gorgeous or even very pretty; she had likely been one of those children who are adorable when their young but grow to be rather plain as adults. She was still just youthful enough to be cute, however; Harry's age or a year older.

"You need some help?" she asked quietly. "You seem a bit lost."

He realized he had been staring at her, trying to remember how he knew her.

"Um, no," he said. "I'm fine. I just. . . I've seen you around the halls, but, forgive me, I can't remember who it is you hang around with."

She smiled, rather sweetly, he thought, and suppressed a giggle. "Most likely because you only had eyes for Cho."

"Ah!" he said as it came to him. "Fifth-year. Ravenclaw. I knew I'd seen you around."

"Cloyssa Tugwood," she said offering her hand which he shook. His eyebrow went up a her last name.

"I know what you're thinking," she said before he could respond. "And yes, I am related to the Sacharissa Tugwood on the chocolate frog card. She was my great-auntie."

"Harry Potter," he said, trying not to smirk at her misreading his reaction.

"Oh, I know that of course," she said. "But it's nice to meet you properly." She looked up at the shelf next to him. "What are you looking for? Perhaps I can help?"

"Er," he said dumbly, unsure of how exactly to respond.

She noticed the books lining the shelf he was perusing and her eyes widened for a moment.

"Must be some interesting project you're working on," she said

He awkwardness must have been very evident as he fumbled for a reply.

"Personal?" she whispered, sounding shocked.

He couldn't help but blush a bit. It must have been obvious.

"Thinking of performing a, er, ritual ?" she inquired smirking.

He shook his head absently.

"Worried you're shooting blanks?" she asked him. She must have been a muggleborn.

"Worried I'm not," he said without thinking. He grimaced as soon as he heard himself say it.

"So you think your girlfriend. . ." She trailed off.

"Not exactly," he said. "I don't actually. . . have. . . It's complicated." Doubtless telling her about his eight-year-old Veela sex toy in addition to his shagging half the Gryffindor Quidditch team at the same time would not be the smartest thing for him to do.

"I'm sure it is," she said mirthfully. "I'll wager you must have more women than you can handle after you, as sexy as you are." Now it was her turn to be embarrassed.

He merely raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at her.

"I'm good with books," she said suddenly, apparently keen to change the subject. "I can help you if you'd like."

He looked at her and saw a hopeful look in her eye. He shrugged and she took that for assent.

She dropped her book-bag at her feet, pulled a book from the shelf and opened it. "I suppose you're just looking for a charm or something to test your. . ." She blushed and ducked her head.

"Er, yeah," he said. "Something like that."

Silence reigned as they busied themselves flipping pages, rejecting spell after spell that wouldn't do what he needed.

As they perused the books, Harry kept noticing that she would look his way occasionally while trying to be discreet about it. Of course, he couldn't help but throw a few glances her way as well. She was well developed, with average sized breasts and a nice body. It was difficult to get a good look at her arse through the skirt but what he could see of it looked nice. She may not have had a chance in any beauty contest, but she was certainly not unattractive.

"Ah ha!" she said quietly, after several minutes of searching. She held the book so that he could see what she'd found. "It's a simple Charm." He looked at the entry in her book and noticed—

"Though it does require a, er, sample," she said.

She handed him the book. "Thanks for your help," he said. "You were right, you are good with books." He flashed her a sideways grin She bit her lip as she seemed to be summoning her courage for something.

"That's not all I'm good at," she said rather coyly.

His eyebrows rose at the implication but he decided not to jump to conclusions. "Good with Charms, are you?" he asked cheekily.

"Among other things."

He liked where this seemed to be leading. "Are you offering to help?"

She chewed her lip nervously and nodded.

"OK," he said. "Any particular place you have in mind?"

She looked over her shoulder for a moment then returned her gaze to him. She took a step towards him, closing what little distance there was between them.

"How about right here?" she whispered.

His eyes widened a bit momentarily but he said nothing. This girl either had a bit of an exhibitionist streak or she really liked libraries. Either way, he thought, he certainly wasn't going to discourage her.

He felt her hand searching for him through his robes. After a moment, she found her objective, grasping the hardening bulge in his shorts. He stifled a moan.

She gazed into his eyes as she stroked him gently through his clothes. Her eyes were bright and dancing; she was clearly enjoying the public nature of their contact as much as he was.

His hand found her hip and began sliding down the side of her upper leg, searching for the hem of her skirt. She partially unfastened his robes—just enough to get her hand inside—and moved to stroking him through his boxers only. His hand worked her skirt up and found bear thigh; it was soft and silky smooth. He ran his hand around and cupped a cheek of her bum, kneading the taught flesh gently. She pressed her lips to his suddenly to smother a groan and he felt her pull his shorts down enough to release his erection from it's confines.

She broke the kiss as she began to stroke him and looked around to make sure that they were still unseen. He moved his other hand, took hold of her hip and pulled her closer so that they were almost touching, then manoeuvred it so that it discovered the waistband of her knickers. Slipping inside, he found her ample bush and, just below that, her dampening sex. He stroked up and down the outside of her pussy a few times before slipping a finger inside to gather some of her moisture and bring it up towards her clitoris. She was pinching her lips between her teeth to keep herself quiet as she picked up the pace with her hand.

Once he had her little nub sufficiently lubed, he began teasing it; lightly brushing his fingers over it. He would occasionally slip down and slide his finger just inside her entrance before returning to her clit. She was smearing the fluids from his now leaking cock around the fleshy head. He could only assume that she'd done this a few times before because she seemed to be an expert at it. He was rapidly approaching his orgasm.

He began working in earnest on her most sensitive spot, stroking and flicking and rubbing. She was panting and her fluids had all but soaked the gusset of her knickers. She leaned forward to kiss him again and in doing so muffled most of a moan. Her hips had begun to thrust involuntarily and he was sure that she was just as close to orgasm as he was.

He slipped his kneading hand over, under her knickers in the back and found the cleft of her arse. Sliding down, he found the pucker of her arsehole and grazed it with his index finger at the same moment his other hand was slipping just inside the entrance to her cunt. Her hips jerked forward of their own accord forcing his finger deeper inside her and his arm back to bump into her stroking hand. He quickly reached up with his thumb and dragged it across her clit. An almost quiet, very short, high-pitched squeal was wrenched from her throat as she came around his invading finger. Her stroking of his cock slowed and became uncoordinated as she was overcome by the sensations flooding her from her spasming pussy.

As she came down from her climax, she leaned her head on his shoulder and tried to catch her breath. After a few moments, she brought her head up and looked around again for witnesses. Finding none, she returned her attentions to his cock which she began stroking in earnest once again.

She alternated between grasping him quite firmly and so lightly that her hand was almost sliding across his skin. She would sometimes slide up far enough to collect a bit of fluid for lubrication and she had a wonderful way of tickling the sensitive underside of his cock head with the knuckle of her thumb. Soon enough, Harry was panting and nearing release. Somehow, she knew this—though how she did, Harry didn't know—and slowed her pace to keep him on the edge. He opened his eyes which he had closed in sheer bliss to find her watching him intently; her eyes sparkling with mischief, clearly delighting in the fact that he was enjoying her ministrations so much.

"Ready?" she asked.

Nodding was all he could manage without loosing control and crying out into the silence of the library.

She slipped her other hand into his robes and cupped it in front of his throbbing cock. A few more strokes and he was done; splashing his hot, thick jism into her waiting palm. She continued to stroke him as his climax deposited several powerful spurts into her hand.

When he was finished, she dexterously removed her hand from his robes without spilling a drop while her other hand pulled his boxers back into place. She looked at what she'd collected.

"Wow," she said quietly. "That's a lot."

"Really?" he asked. "It's about normal for me."

She retrieved her wand from her bag and performed the incantation on the contents of her hand. It glowed a deep blue.

"I'm not sure if it's good news or bad," she said. "But it looks like you'll never have to worry about being a father."

He relaxed visibly. She noticed.

"With this," she said indicating his sperm, "you may as well be spraying girls with a hosepipe. Though, I'm sure they like your 'hosepipe' better." She smirked at him, then lifted her hand and smelled his fluid. "And I bet this tastes better."

He watched in fascination as she began licking it out of her hand and continued to do so until it was all gone and her had was clean. He found the sight very erotic.

"God, that's sexy," he said, his expression one of unadulterated lust. "I don't suppose you'd be up for another round."

She looked at him in surprise and anticipation.

"Are you. . . up for another round?" she asked.

"It shouldn't be a problem," he said. Moments later, they were back at it—her with her hand inside his robes, stroking his hardening member, him with his hands under her skirt and inside her knickers, fingering her still slick mound.

As he reached full hardness, she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me right here in the library."

He manoeuvred her a few steps away so that she was backed up into the corner with him standing in front of her. He opened his robes a bit more and pulled his boxers down to mid thigh. He pulled her skirt up and grabbed the waistband of her underwear. Instead of lowering them, he gave a sharp tug and ripped them off of her. She gasped but managed to catch most of it and keep it quiet. He slipped the torn garment into a pocket of his robes for safekeeping.

He leaned forward and brought his lips to hers, their mouths opening and tongues dancing. He could taste the remnants of his earlier efforts lingering on her breath but he wasn't turned off by it, to his surprise. He took himself in hand and aimed between her legs, sliding up and down through her cleft, gathering her fluids and lubricating his cock in anticipation. As he slid the head of his cock over her clit, she drew in a breath and lifted her right leg, wrapping it around behind him.

It took a bit of change in their positions but with her rotating her hips a bit and him shifting his feet forward a couple inches and approaching from a slightly different angle, he managed to slide into her. She slipped her hands inside his robes and around his back, pulling him closer to her. He began rhythmically thrusting into her as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again. Perhaps it was the angle of their union, but she seemed very tight to him. Not as tight as Vicky, but certainly tighter than any of the trio he'd fucked the previous night.

Her breath was starting to come in quick, panting inhalations that matched time with his thrusts. He slid one arm down to her waist and pulled her lower half tightly to him so that he could penetrate her as deep as possible. She was trailing little kisses along the side of his face when she suddenly stopped and tensed.

"Harry," she whispered urgently in his ear. "There's someone. . ."

Harry paused in his thrusting for a moment and turned to look in the direction Cloyssa was looking. There, not more than 20 feet away, was Emma Dobbs, walking slowly down the row while looking up a the shelf next to her.

Harry turned back to Cloyssa. "Put your leg down," he whispered. When she did, he quickly flattened what he could of her skirt and arranged his robes so that Emma wouldn't be able to see any evidence of their clandestine activities. She kept her hips in the same position and he remained inside her. Instead of thrusting, however, he was buried deeply in her cunt and slowly grinding in tight little circles that wouldn't be seen through his robes.

"Don't stop kissing me," he said and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Their tongues caressed each other as he continued grinding their sexes together. Emma was still walking slowly towards them, still intent on finding whatever tome it was she was looking for.

Cloyssa broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Oh, gods, Harry," before diving back onto his lips. She was panting through her nose and he could feel her inner walls spasming every few seconds. The kiss became more urgent as though she was trying use it to communicate her need. She clamped her lips around his probing tongue and sucked and he gave a particularly hard grind of his pelvis on hers. Her eyes, which had been very lidded, snapped open and she broke the kiss with a quiet, though audible, gasp. She moved her head beside his.

"Stop, Harry," she said voicelessly though her panting. He didn't. "Please. Harry—if you—don't stop—I'm going to—going to come."

He kept grinding. Her channel was spasming regularly with every rotation of his hips.

"Then I suggest," he said boldly in her ear, "that you do so quietly."

She whimpered and raked her fingernails along his back.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she said. "Oh, please. I—can't. . . I'm going to. . . Oh, shit."

Emma was closer now, nearly to the break in the shelves that provided a little aisle. Cloyssa seized his lips with hers and kissed him fiercely. She closed her eyes and then almost immediately opened them again, focusing on the girl walking methodically closer to them as they continued their concealed yet public coition.

He kept up his incessant rhythmic grinding as she broke the kiss and bit her lip, still staring at the approaching girl. Harry decided that, while Cloyssa might like libraries, it was probably a bit of exhibitionism in her that made her decide to be so public. He turned to look at Emma to find her looking at the last couple of books on the shelf. As he watched, she reached the end and turned to either walk across the aisle or turn around to look at the opposite shelf. He would never know, since she stopped in mid-turn having spotted them.

Harry turned back to Cloyssa who, having realized she'd just been seen, clamped her lips onto his and mewled into his mouth as she came. She did her best to make it appear as though her involuntary movements were a result of the kiss and not an orgasm but neither of them would ever know exactly how successful they were.

Her orgasm was long and powerful. It seemed she liked being seen. Harry kept up the grinding even as her clenching, grasping cunt was driving him nearer his own release. As she came down from her climax, she broke the kiss and whispered haltingly into his ear on the opposite side from Emma, "Oh, god, Harry. She saw me come." Harry turned his head enough that he could just make out Emma out of the corner of his eye. She was still standing there, brazenly watching them as they fucked.

"She's still watching," he whispered back. Her fingers clenched on his back and she peaked again, moaning softly in his ear. He couldn't believe that she could come twice so quickly but she apparently really liked being watched.

"She's just standing there, staring at us," he said, deciding to ramp up her arousal by giving her what she wanted. In addition to his slight grinding motion, he began moving in and out by the barest of millimetres. "I don't think she can believe what she's seeing. She probably thinks we're just snogging. I wonder what she'd do if she knew that I was fucking you right in front of her.

Cloyssa's second orgasm was just starting to let up when she peaked again. She breathed in his ear, a stuttering breath as she tried desperately not to moan out loud.

"Do you think we should give her a show?" he asked. "I could pull back my robes and let her see that I have my cock buried in your dripping cunt. Would you like that?"

"Oh, gods, Harry," she said quietly. "I can't— Oh, shit—"

Her cunt clamped around him again with another orgasm, or perhaps a reawakening of her last one. The feeling of her massaging his prick as she was was driving him closer and closer.

And still, Emma watched.

Harry lowered his head and trailed little kisses up from Cloyssa's neck to her ear.

"She's just standing there," he said in her ear. "I think she knows we're fucking right in front of her."

She came again. She moaned quietly in his ear as a small surge of fluid washed around his barely thrusting cock as the walls of her sex contracted around him once more. The sensation was too much for him. He held his breath to keep himself from groaning or crying out as he came, spilling himself deeply inside her, spraying the inside of her pussy with spurt after spurt of his infertile semen.

When she realized that he was coming inside her while they were being observed, she came one last time. As their orgasms subsided, he slowly stopped moving and they kissed each other again.

"Oh, gods, Harry," said Cloyssa as she broke the kiss. "That was so hot!" She looked over at Emma who apparently decided that the show was over. "She's leaving," she whispered to him.

Eventually, they separated and straightened their clothes as much as possible. Harry repaired her knickers and tried to return them to her but she refused them.

"Keep them, Harry," she said. "They can be a souvenir or something. Besides, I want to see if I can walk all the way back to Ravenclaw tower without letting anything run down my legs."

He raised his eyebrows at her at that statement.

"I almost hope I don't make it," she said smirking at him. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. "Thanks, Harry," she said. "For everything."

"Thank you," he said. "For helping me out. And for—" he gestured towards the corner where they'd had their little tryst. She smiled at him and leaned back to whisper in his ear.

"You can have me any time you want me, Mr. Potter," she said.

He leaned into her and whispered, "I look forward to the next time, Miss Tugwood. Perhaps some place a little less private?"

She shivered in anticipation and they left the library to go their separate ways.

Harry slipped down to the kitchens and picked up lunch for himself and Gabby from the elves.

When he returned to the dorm room, he found Gabby lying on his bed looking as though she'd recently been ravished. As he closed the door, she looked up at him with slightly glassy eyes.

"Someone had fun," she said with a knowing grin on her face.

He couldn't help but grin back. "I take it you enjoyed that?" he asked.

"Very much so," she admitted. "I couldn't stop masturbating the entire time I felt you fucking." He had moved to her and the two of them were spreading out their lunch on the bed. "Who was it?"

So he told her the story of meeting Cloyssa and her helping to find the book and test him and then their decision to have sex right there.

". . .so there we are," he finished, "fucking right there in the library when this girl walks up and watches us. I'm not sure if she knew what we were doing or not. She might have thought we were just really passionate kissers."

Gabby had taken to eating with one hand and touching herself with the other while listening to Harry speak.

"Oh, God, I wish I'd been there," she said dreamily. "Even just to watch. That sounds so sexy!"

Harry reached into his robes and pulled out Cloyssa's knickers which were still damp with her fluids. He tossed them to Gabby, who caught them and delighted in their moist state.

"She said she wanted to see if she could walk all the way back to the tower without dripping," he said nonchalantly. "I wonder if she made it."

"Oh, God, Master," said Gabby breathlessly. "Please tell me you're going to fuck her again!"

"She said she'd like to," he responded. "And I certainly wouldn't mind another semi-public shag."

Gabby's eyes shifted out of focus, apparently imagining watching or participating in public sex. Harry ate his sandwich with a grin on his face at her reaction.

"So," he said after a few silent minutes. "Find anything new about the Desmi?"

Gabby blinked and seemed to gather herself.

"Not much, Master," she said. "Just that the Tyrannos is selectively infertile— Are you, by the way? You said you tested it but didn't say. . ."

He nodded.

"I thought as much," she said. "Anyway, while you are sterile normally, if you choose to impregnate your partner during sex, then she will get pregnant, no matter what time of month it is."

Gabby then had to tell him that normally women are only fertile a few days out of the month, since Harry hadn't known.

"The book goes on to talk about the Tyrannos a bit more but with it's limited information, it seems to make the assumption that the Tyrannos is Veela since it says that their Veela abilities like forming more Desmi, summoning Ardor and their Aléktorsoma or Alktorisoma are not affected."

"Their what?" he asked.

"You really haven't studied Veela yet have you?"

He shook his head. "The level of instruction at Hogwarts in some subjects is iffy at best."

"It would seem so," she said rather disappointedly. "You said you'd seen Veela before." He nodded. "Have you seen them angry?" He nodded again. "Have you seen them throwing fireballs?" Another nod. "That's Ardor. All adult Veela can summon it, though it's far more often seen from females."

She paused to take a bite.

"Have you seen them become bird-like?"

"Yes," he said. "That was rather shocking."

"That is their 'Soma," she said. "Actually, if the Veela is male, it's Aléktorsoma, or Alktorisoma if it's a female. Normally, we just call it our 'Soma."

"Oh," he said simply.

"The book also said some abilities like the Agein might be increased," she concluded. "But most of it was very vague, unfortunately."

"Agein?"

"The 'pull'."

"Ah," he said. "That may explain why I have it then, if it's increased in Veela."

"That's possible," she admitted. "But with no information at all on a human Tyrannos, we can't really know for sure—" she looked at the book now resting on Harry's night stand as though upset that it didn't have any real answers, "—about anything."

They finished their lunch deep in thought about what they knew, what they didn't know, and what they were finding out about their Desmi.

After lunch, Harry decided that he needed to get some studying done so they both headed down to the common room. Once again, Harry was struck by the sheer amount of female flesh that he'd just taken for granted before. He was also aware that he had at least the partial attention of all of the females in the room. He found a spot to sit and study near Ron and Hermione. They passed the afternoon looking up Charms and Transfiguration wand movements, potion ingredients and historical dates and names. Harry was amused that none of the girls in the common room left for dinner until Harry decided it was time to eat. Within five minutes of Harry finding a seat at the Gryffindor table, every girl that had been in the common room was also eating dinner.

Once they were back in the tower, Harry found a seat on one end of a couch with his transfiguration book open. As he read, he happened to catch, out of the corner of his eye, the fact that Ginny Weasley was sitting in a chair on his left that faced him. She had her Defense book open and was pretending to read. What she was doing, however, was watching Harry.

Harry made a show of looking up from his book and moving his head around to relieve an apparently stiff neck. He saw Ginny's head quickly turn back to the book in her hands with some amusement. He tried to disguise his smile at her actions with a grimace as he feigned popping his neck.

As soon as he returned his attention to his own book, she returned hers to him. This game went on for more than an hour as Harry kept finding excuses to almost catch her staring until finally, he did. He looked sideways at her and she was so lost in gazing at him that she didn't look away. There was a look of barely concealed lust on her face and he raised an eyebrow at her. When she realized that she'd been noticed, she attempted to pretend she hadn't been, but gave it up as a bad job and just shrugged one of her shoulders at him unrepentantly. He grinned and returned to his book.

A few minutes later, he watched her in his peripheral vision as she got up, walked over to her bag which was sitting on a nearby table and changed her Defence book for her Ancient Runes book. She returned however, not to the chair, but to the far end of the couch.

Gabby, who had been watching this interplay with interest, leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear, "You want to fuck her, don't you, Master?"

Harry just shrugged as if to say, "why not?"

He went back to his book but concentrated mostly on a way to get Ginny into his bed without being discovered. He was deep in thought on the matter when Gabby tapped his leg to get his attention. He looked over to see Ginny reading her book with one hand, her other arm on the back of the couch, running her fingers through Gabby's hair, apparently completely unaware that she was doing so. He caught Gabby's eye and they both stifled a snicker. For some reason, he found himself very aroused by the sight and redoubled his efforts to think of a way to unobtrusively invite Ginny into his bed.

Less than ten minutes later, he had a plan. It was clumsy and he was sure it had no chance in hell of working, but it was all he could think of and he was getting desperate. He reached into his bag on the pretext of needing to take a few notes and retrieved two pieces of parchment. On one, he wrote a note to Ginny and on the other, a note to Gabby so that he wouldn't attract any attention trying to whisper instructions to her in the still crowded room. Then he gave them both to Gabby.

Gabby,

Go up to my room. In my trunk is an invisibility cloak. Get it and drop both it and the other note into Ginny's lap.

Gabby read the note, and took both notes and slipped off the couch and disappeared up the stairs to the dorms. Harry noticed that Ginny looked up at him as she unconsciously felt Gabby's hair slide out of her fingers, but he pretended to read his book.

Not more than two minutes later, Gabby returned with his silvery cloak folded neatly in her hands. She held it up for him briefly to make sure that it was the right one and when he nodded slightly, she walked over and dropped both it and the other note into Ginny's lap. Ginny looked up suddenly at the sudden appearance of the cloak and parchment and scanned the room, but seeing no one looking in her direction, found the note and read it. Harry remembered exactly what it said.

Ginny,

I've noticed you watching me tonight and I've seen the way you've been looking at me. If you'd like to do more than look, take this cloak up the girls stairs, slip it on and then go up to the boys fourth-year dorm and wait for me. I'll be there in five minutes. If not, just set the cloak on the couch next to me.

HP

Harry watched her discreetly as she read the note. She glanced over at him briefly and then back to the note. She tucked the cloak into her robes and then, acting as though she were tired and calling it an early night, got up and headed for the girls' stairs.

Gabby leaned over to Harry and whispered, "She's cute. Do you think those freckles go all the way down?" Harry grinned as if to say, "I guess we're going to find out."

A few minutes later, Harry, also pretending to need sleep, gathered his things and headed for the dorm room, trailing Gabby in his wake.

As he closed the door to the apparently empty room, he said, "I really wasn't sure if you would have the courage to come."

Ginny appeared as the cloak dropped to the floor.

"After Ron pointed out that I could have been your date to the Yule Ball, I was hoping you'd notice that I was there," she said.

"I always noticed you were there," he said. "But I've also just noticed that you're not so young any more." He studied the girl carefully for a moment then said, "I hope you're not expecting a relationship here. I was just hoping we could have some fun."

She seemed to deflate a bit, but quickly recovered. "I thought so," she said. "I'll admit I really do like you, Harry, and I'd like something more than just one night of fun. But I'd be stupid not to take what I can get. You're too hot to pass up." She blushed brightly as she realized what she'd just said.

He walked over to her and took her hand, leading her to the bed. Gabby grabbed the discarded cloak and returned it to his trunk. The three of them climbed on the bed and pulled the curtains. Harry put up his usual silencing charm.

"God, I can't believe I'm here," said Ginny a bit glumly. "You must think I'm a total slut." She ventured a look into Harry's eyes, likely expecting judgement.

"Perhaps," said Harry lightly. "Does that have to be a bad thing?" He leaned forward and tried to kiss her but she backed away from him.

"Is that really what you think of me?" she asked sounding hurt.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Ginny," he said soothingly. "We're just two people who happen to find each other attractive and want to make each other feel good. Society would likely label you a slut and me a stud. Why? Why is slut a negative thing when a stud is not? We both want the same thing. No one knows you're here. No one will ever know you were here unless you tell them. So what's to worry about?"

She thought for a minute and then without saying anything, leaned forward and started unfastening his robes. He leaned the rest of the way and caught her lips in a kiss. It was light and gentle at first, but soon increased in need and desperation. Very quickly, their mouths were open and their tongues were duelling each other. Ginny was moaning, her fingers having forgotten their appointed task of stripping the boy in front of her. Gabby took over where she left off.

Harry wrapped Ginny in an embrace and pulled her close to him. He could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh and he knew she could feel it too; had he any doubts about that fact, they were dispelled by her groan at the contact.

Gabby finished pulling off his robes and started working on Ginny's. The third-year noticed the younger girl undressing her and shot a questioning glance at Harry.

"Gabby," was all he said by way of explanation. Gabby looked up at her Master and smiled then returned to Ginny's robes. Ginny just watched the girl for a moment before turning an appreciative gaze on Harry's newly uncovered body for a few seconds and then returning to Harry's lips.

Harry brought his hands up and found Ginny's breasts, no longer covered by her robes but still concealed by a sleeveless vest in lieu of a bra. They were small, hence the lack of said bra, but then, Ginny was rather petite so they looked good on her. Harry ran his hands over them easily finding the prominent nipples hidden by cloth and making them stiffen with gentle attention. He broke the kiss and licked and sucked his way to her ear where he dove inside with his tongue. Ginny thrilled at the sensation and tightened her grip on him, giggling. Harry reached over and found Gabby's arse and kneaded the taught flesh, making the young girl groan.

Harry listened to the feelings he was getting from Ginny. He felt the urge to talk dirty to her so he obliged. "You're such a slut," he said. She shivered. "You're a cockslut and you love it. Are you a virgin?"

She ducked her head shyly and, after a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"Oh, you're a virgin cockslut!" he said delightedly. "The best kind. I'll bet you've been fantasizing for a long time about having your cherry popped, haven't you."

Again a shy, reluctant nod.

Gabby, already having completely removed Ginny's robes, had managed to divest her of her vest now, leaving Ginny and Harry in only their shoes and their knickers and boxers respectively. It was the former items that Gabby attacked next.

"I'll bet you've thought about sucking cock," he said to her. His hand had returned to fondling her now uncovered breasts. They were pale, covered with a smattering of freckles and topped with knut-sized areolae and two very fat little nipples. "Haven't you?"

She shook her head. He took a nipple between his thumb and index finger and rolled it lightly causing her breath to hitch.

"It's OK," he comforted. "You can admit it, we're all friends here."

"I—" she managed.

"Go on," he said. "You'd like to have a cock slip between your lips and bump the back of your throat. I'll bet you could open your throat and take it all the way down, couldn't you?"

She shook her head again. Harry manoeuvred his left hand down in between Ginny's legs. Her knickers were soaked.

"Your head says no," he said. "But your dripping cunt screams yes!"

She looked him in the eye with a pleading expression.

"You know what I think?" he asked. He didn't wait for a response. "I think that before this night is over, you're going to have my cock shoved all the way to the back of your throat and you're going to love it."

She groaned in clear arousal but defiantly shook her head.

He found her hand and guided it to his cloth covered cock.

"You know what else I think?" he asked as he wrapped her hand around his cock and moved it back and forth lightly. "I think you're going to do exactly what I say. I think you're going to follow my commands and I might think about giving you what you want. How does that sound?"

Again, she groaned but shook her head. The game was clear, Harry thought. She wanted to be forced, not unlike what he'd done to Gabby that morning, though without the pain and violence. Ginny wanted to be controlled—she got off on it. Perhaps it was growing up with so many brothers and having to be strong all the time when at heart she wanted to be told what to do. Whatever the reason, Harry was willing to what, deep down, she wanted.

He slipped his hand into her moist knickers and found her hot, aroused cunt. "You are going to do everything I say and you're going to love it because I can make you come till you pass out." He stroked her dripping sex lightly causing her to moan in pleasure. "But if you're a bad girl and don't do what I tell you—" he quickly pulled his hand out of her knickers "—you get nothing."

She tried to pull his hand back to her crotch and when that failed, she tried to move her own hand there, but Harry was quicker and prevented her from touching herself.

"Don't like it?" he asked. "You know where the door is. I'm not keeping you here."

She struggled a bit, trying to get out of his grip, though not trying to leave, she just wanted some sexual contact, be it from Harry or her own hand, she apparently didn't care.

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

After a moment, she stopped struggling and nodded.

"Good."

He laid her back on the bed and, seizing her knickers by the waistband, dragged them slowly off her. Her cunt was beautiful, with a small patch of red hair at the top that, of course, perfectly matched her crimson tresses. It was glistening with her fluids. Harry couldn't wait to taste it.

Spreading her legs wide, he dove in and licked all around the cleft of her cunt, lapping up her secretions. When he got to the top of her slit, he paid extra attention to her clit which, unlike her nipples, was quite small, though very erect. She moaned and writhed in pleasure. Gabby, after stripping Harry of his last article of clothing, crawled up and latched onto one of Ginny's fat nipples, sucking for all she was worth and caressing the older girls other breast with her hand. Ginny arched her back, thrusting her chest at the suckling girl.

Harry lifted his head and, using his finger to keep her pussy stimulated, said, "Ginny, why don't you stroke Gabby's cunt."

She simply shook her head.

Harry stopped Gabby from sucking and said, "Ginny, finger Gabby's cunt now."

Her only reply was to try to pull Gabby's head back to her chest. Harry moved his hand away from her sex and grabbed her arms, pinning them so that she couldn't move them.

"Ginny," he said, then he corrected himself, "Slut, you're going to masturbate Gabby or I don't lick your fucking cunt. Understand?"

There was hesitation, but she eventually nodded. He released one of her hands and she moved it over to Gabby's folds and started fondling them. Harry looked down and saw that Ginny's cunt was now drooling with her arousal. She might never admit it, but she really loved being commanded.

"That's better, slut," he said, then returned to liking her cunt.

Ginny began to moan in pleasure. "Oh, God, Harry," she panted. "That's heavenly. Ohhhh. That feels so good." She was flowing quite heavily now and Harry was drinking up all her fluids. He slipped a finger inside her up to her hymen and felt her inner walls contracting. She was close.

"You like that, don't you, slut?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Harry," she moaned. "But don't call me that any more."

He gave her another lick and she clenched around him again.

"Oh, no, slut," he said. "I have to call you that. It's your name now, because that's what you are."

"Harry," she whinged. She was right on the verge.

"You're going to come, aren't you, slut?" he asked.

"Oh—oh—yes. Oh, God, Harry," she said, "I'm so close."

"Are you going to come for me?" he asked.

Her moans were even higher now, she was right on the cusp.

"Oh—oh God yes! Like that—oh fuck—oh—oh—uunh!" she cried.

He found her clit and gave it a pinch.

"Ow!" she shouted and jerked away from him. "That hurt! Damn it, Harry. I was going to come!"

He crawled up and got right in her face. "You come when I say you come," he said. "Not a moment before."

She tried to prevent the groan of pleasure escaping from her throat at that statement and failed.

"Slut," he said condescendingly. "You fucking slut."

Again she groaned involuntarily.

He kneed himself up between her legs, took himself in hand and rubbed his cock around her slit, collecting her juices and lubing his erection. He placed himself at the entrance to her sopping channel and just poked the tip of the head in.

"Is this what you want, slut?" he asked.

She nodded.

"How badly do you want it?"

"Oh, God, Harry," she begged, "please fuck me. Take my virginity. I don't want it any more. Make me a woman, Harry. Please !"

"It's a good thing your name is slut," he said, "because that's what you are."

She groaned again and tried to hump herself down on his cock, but he kept himself right at the very entrance. Gabby had returned to sucking the girl's tits and Ginny was still fondling the Veela's slit. Both girls seemed to be fully enjoying each others ministrations.

"Now, just so I know," Harry said, prolonging the exquisite torture of her arousal. "We already know you're a slut, do you want my cock bad enough for me to give you a knut so that I can call you a whore?"

She moaned and hunched down again, failing to impale herself on his cock.

He reached up and pinched her left nipple, not enough to hurt her, just enough to get her attention.

"God damn it, slut," he said. "We fuck when I say we fuck. Got it?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Good," he said. "Now, do you want my cock enough to kiss Gabby?"

She appeared indecisive.

"Kiss Gabby," he ordered. "Make it good and I'll fuck your virgin pussy, slut."

Gabby moved up and planted her lips on Ginny's. They kissed for a moment before Gabby tried slipping her tongue to the older girl. There was clear hesitation before Ginny opened her mouth and accepted the sex toy's probing tongue and even more time passed before Harry saw Ginny's tongue join in. After nearly a minute, they broke the kiss and Gabby licked and sucked all down the girl's jaw to her neck and over her collarbone.

"Fuck, slut," Harry said disappointedly. "That was pathetic. That most certainly does not rate my cock in your cunt."

"Please, Harry," she said desperately. "I need it, Harry. Please fuck me."

"You know, slut," he replied. "I think I'd like it if you called me 'Master' the rest of the night, just like my little sex toy." Gabby beamed at him. He looked down at her. "What do you, think, Sweetie?" he asked. "What should she have to do to earn my cock splitting this tight little slit wide open?" Ginny moaned.

Gabby seemed to think for a moment. "Well," she said slyly. "My cunt is still a little sore from this morning. I think she could kiss it and make it better."

Harry smiled at her. Ginny, wide-eyed, shook her head rapidly. "Excellent idea, Gabby," he said. He slid his cock up through Ginny's slit, stopping for a moment at her clit before sliding it back down to her entrance again, causing the girl to groan. He then turned his attention to Ginny. "If you want to be fucked, slut, you'll eat Gabby out." Ginny looked at him with a disbelieving expression, though her cunt trickled out more moisture at the order. "If you can make her come with your mouth, then I might let you orgasm. How does that sound?"

She opened and closed her mouth several times as though trying to think of an alternative that didn't involve her tongue and Gabby's cunt coming into contact. Gabby seemed to take her gaping mouth as agreement and straddled the girls face. There was a moment where nothing happened, but then Harry heard Gabby groan as Ginny's tongue snaked out and licked around her cleft. Harry stroked up and down Ginny's cunt again, keeping himself hard.

"How's she doing, Gabrielle?" he asked.

"I don't know, Master," she said dubiously. "Truthfully, she's pants at it. I'm probably going to have to have to hump her face to get off at this rate."

He watched as this had the effect Gabby had intended and Ginny redoubled her efforts.

Deciding that he just didn't want to wait any more rather than any thought that she had really earned it, he gave a push with his cock and slid into her a bit. She grunted and paused in her licking when Harry came into contact with her maidenhead. "Keep licking, slut," he said harshly. "No one told you to stop."

She immediately ran her tongue back out and through the Veela's soft folds and Harry reached down to tickle the redhead's clit. He started thrusting back and forth, just up to her hymen but not past. Soon the girl was nearing her orgasm again, panting and moaning and trying to keep her probing tongue busy. Harry could feel the entrance to her cunt pulsing with her approaching climax.

Just before she tipped over the edge, however, Harry thrust deep into her, ripping her virginity away. She cried out in pain and her cunt instantly stopped contracting.

"Oh," she said under Gabby's pussy. "That hurt, Harry. Give me a minute."

"Only if you keep licking, slut," he commanded. "And it's 'Master' to you tonight, remember?"

Going back to orally pleasuring the girl atop her, she answered between licks, "I'm not—going to call—you 'Master'—Harry."

Harry gently stroked her clitoris to help soothe the pain from her broken maidenhead away as he responded.

"You want me to fuck you, slut? You call me 'Master'," he instructed. "You want to come—you make Gabby come first. That's how this works. We're not here for you, you're here to make us feel good. If you do a really good job, we may reward you. Got it?"

She sighed heavily in resignation and paused long enough to mumble, "Yes."

"Yes, what, slut?"

She took a deep breath and forced out a reluctant, "Yes, Master."

"That could be a lot better, slut," he said. "But I guess it's good enough for now."

Ginny moaned into Gabby's slit and continued lapping away. Harry felt her fluids flowing more freely around his cock. He gave an experimental thrust and she moaned again. Deciding that her pain had passed, he began fucking the girl in earnest, sliding his length in and out of her once virginal channel.

He set up a decent rhythm and was coming to enjoy using Ginny as she wanted him to do, and she was clearly enjoying being used; in no time at all, she was nearing her orgasm again. Harry reached up and began massaging her breasts, gently stroking the nipples and smiling at her reactions to his efforts. She was moaning and licking and writhing beneath Harry and Gabby just at the point of her climax.

"Ow!" she suddenly cried into the pussy above her as Harry tweaked one of her nipples roughly. She pulled her head back enough to be able to speak. "I was about to come, Harry," she said irritatedly.

Harry stopped thrusting and said sharply, "What did you call me, slut?"

Ginny seemed not to understand the question for a moment before she quickly said, "Oh, Master! I'm sorry. Master. I meant Master."

"Too late, slut," he said. "You'll have to earn my cock again."

He pulled out of her, laid back and manoeuvred Gabby so that she was straddling his waist.

Gabby ran her tongue slicked sex along the length of Harry's erection and then raised herself up and sank down on his cock, moaning in pleasure all the way. She soon began a slow up and down motion that felt great to Harry. Ginny found her way onto her knees beside them and seemed to be of two minds about recent developments—she looked angry and appeared to want to vent at Harry and Gabby for ignoring her, but at the same time, she also looked unwilling to say anything for fear of missing out altogether and not being able to earn the right to be included again. Finally making her decision, she bowed her head and asked almost supplicantly, "How may I earn your cock, Master?"

Harry allowed her a slight smile and responded, "For now I think you must follow my toy's instructions. If you obey properly, we'll think about whether or not you've earned anything later."

Ginny gulped and turned on her knees to face the bouncing Gabrielle.

Gabby eyed Ginny with apparent disdain for a few thrusts and then said, "Lick my clit, slut." Ginny immediately lowered her face to the blond's crotch. "But keep your tongue off my Master's cock. You don't deserve it yet."

Ginny did her best to comply, licking and sucking the smaller girl's clit as well as was possible with her bouncing up and down on Harry's arousal. Harry soon noticed that Ginny was moaning and realized that she was stroking herself and ordered her to remove her hands. She did so, though with obvious disappointment.

"Finger my arsehole, slut," Gabby said. Ginny reluctantly complied Gabby was moaning now as she slid herself up and down her Master's cock. The pressure in Harry's balls was building.

"Shove it in, slut," she commanded and judging by the volume of her moan, Ginny had done as she was told. "Oh, yeah, slut. Fuck my arse with your fingers. Oh, keep licking my clit, slut. That's it."

Harry could feel Gabby's pleasure building in the bond as his own orgasm was mere thrusts away. Another few bounces and she came around his thrusting cock. The added pleasure of her orgasm pouring through the bond was enough to push him to the point of no return. Without warning, Gabby leapt of his cock, grabbed Ginny's head with both hands and shoved her mouth—which was open in surprise—down onto Harry's pulsing manhood. He erupted in her mouth, spurt after spurt splashing from his cock into her waiting throat. She reflexively swallowed, though by the time his climax was nearing it's completion, she was sucking and stroking him, eagerly milking his semen from his prick.

As Harry was beginning to settle into the afterglow, while Ginny still nursed his cock, an aura of bronze coloured light flared from their union and encompassed the two of them for a moment before fading.

Harry broke the long, stunned silence that followed.

"What the fuck," he said, confused, "was that ?"

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .A Caring Friend

Harry looked over at Gabby, even as Ginny continued softly sucking on his still rigid cock.

"Was that what I think it was?" he asked.

Gabby looked just as surprised as he felt. "It was a Desmi forming, Master," she said sounding for all the world like she believed she had to have been dreaming.

Harry felt a bit like he'd gone into a dive on his broom only to find out that the broom hadn't come with him.

"How is that possible?" he asked, puzzled. "Is that possible?"

Gabby opened her mouth as if to say something but nothing came out so she closed it again. Harry looked at the redhead as she dutifully licked and sucked him. He was still hard, but a bit to sensitive at that moment.

"Ginny, not that I don't like it," he said gently, "but can you stop that right now?"

She instantly stopped, sat up on her knees, rested back on her heels and bowed her head.

"Master?" she asked, uncertain. She appeared to be confused.

Gabby, watching Ginny's reaction said, "Master, I think you should give her orders."

"What?" he asked. feeling as though he'd missed something.

"You asked her to stop," she clarified. "I think you should have ordered her to stop instead."

"Gabby," he said. "I'm not going to order her to do things." Ginny seemed to shrink down on herself a bit at this. Then Harry realized the incongruity between what he'd just said and what he'd been doing minutes before. "Well, outside of sex, I mean. I mean, yes, she was sucking my— but I meant— that was—" He took a breath and let it out. "I don't know what I mean."

Gabby kneed herself over so that she was next to Ginny and put an arm around her. Harry studied the two girls: one blond, the other redhead, one Veela—for all intents and purposes—the other human, both with fair skin, one with freckles on her face, neck, chest and arms, both nearly the same height as Ginny was petite and Gabby was quite tall for her age—only about five inches shorter than Harry was—both very naked, one with small but pert breasts and slightly rounded hips, the other with a flat chest and almost straight hips, showing only the barest signs of maturity, one with a patch of untamed red pubic hair, the other with a completely smooth, hair-free sex. Gabrielle was subservient, yet still sure of herself. Ginny was kneeling in supplication, appearing as though she expected to be physically punished yet willing and eager to bear it with quiet dignity.

"Master," Gabby said ending Harry's reverie. "I can't be sure of course, but I think you have a Desmi. . . Dol— Duno— Oh, I forget what it's called. I think she's, well, your sex slave. If I'm right, then she'll be compelled to follow your orders—and you really should order her, making requests will just make her doubt herself."

Harry's head swam with the information. He had a slave? Ginny had to follow his orders?

"How is this possible?" he repeated. "I'm not a Veela. Am I?"

"I've no idea, Master." Gabby said. "And no, you're not."

"I mean, is it because I was already in a Desmi?" he asked, guessing. "Did I somehow gain not only the 'pull' but also the ability to make more Desmi? Do I have all the Veela abilities? Am I a Veela now?"

"You already asked that question, Master. No, you're not," she said. "Though you do seem to have gained a second Veela ability."

He took a steadying breath. At least he was still himself—he could just do things that he couldn't before.

"How could this happen, though? It's never happened with any of the other girls. Am I just going to bond random girls to me?"

"I don't think so, Master," she said. "Forming a Desmi is normally a very conscious thing. And both partners must be willing. Was there already some connection between you?"

"She had a crush on me. And she's a Weasley—they've pretty much adopted me."

"That might have been enough to do it." she said doubtfully.

"Oh, and I saved her life once." How could he have forgotten the Chamber of Secrets?

Gabby almost laughed. "Sound familiar?" she asked, obviously referring to the incident that happened only four days before that had resulted in her Desmi with Harry.

Harry felt a bit better, all he had to do was make sure he didn't sleep with any girls whose life he'd saved. That was a pretty short list—just Ginny. And possibly Hermione—he wasn't sure if helping Ron save her from the troll counted, but then again, he had no desire to sleep with Hermione so it shouldn't be a problem.

His thoughts turned back to his newest addition. "The book. What does the book say about the Desmi you think it is?"

From the night stand, Gabby retrieved the book that her mother had sent them that morning and opened to the front. She mumbled as she skimmed down the listing of information until she reached—

"Oh, this is it: Desmi Dulo-Didoneros. Page 137." She flipped to 137 and read.

Desmi Dulo-Didoneros:

Not much is known about this rare Desmi. It can be comprised of Two Veela or one Veela and one non-Veela.

This Desmi forms when one partner becomes Dominant, while the other willingly becomes Subservient accompanied by an act of force during the Desmi-forming climax. The two partners of this Desmi become the Tyrannos (or, informally, the Prime) and the Doulos (or, informally, the Submissive or Sub).

The Doulos can be distinguished by the collar which identifies him/her as the property of his/her Tyrannos and by the ankle cuffs that denote the difference between a Doulos in this Desmi and one in a Desmi Dulos [see page 134]. In addition to the ankle cuffs, the Doulos may also wear wrist cuffs, though it is unclear what this differentiation means, if anything. The Doulos is totally subservient to and must follow any order they are given by their Tyrannos.

The Tyrannos' sex drive is known to be increased and they seem to be habitually unfaithful to their Doulos, having sexual relations. . .

"The rest of this looks identical to the information it has about our Desmi, Master," she said. She skimmed the remaining text. ". . .increased sex drive. . . . . .knowledge of sexual partner's desires. . . . . .selectively infertile. . ."

"OK," Harry said. Gabby looked up from the book. "How do we tell if this is what's going on and not something else?"

"Try handing her her clothes, Master," Gabby suggested practically.

Remembering what had happened with Gabby's nightgown, Harry eyed Ginny's robes as though they were a snake about to strike. He stretched out a hand and touched it. Light flared and suddenly her clothing had transformed—Her shoes had become two leather ankle cuffs, her socks had become leather wrist cuffs, her knickers had become several short lengths of chain, her vest became a lead about a metre and a half in length and her robes had become a leather collar.

Without lifting her head, Ginny asked, "May I put your gifts on, Master?"

Still somewhat wrong-footed, he tried to remember the bit about giving orders. "Be quick about it." he said as firmly as he could.

Within 10 seconds she was wearing collar and all four cuffs and had returned to her supplicatory position. Harry studied her new adornments a bit closer. Each ankle cuff was about two inches in width and had a small metal d-ring on the outside. Each wrist cuff, also about two inches in width, had a similar d-ring on the outside and a small metal clip on the inside. The collar was similar to Gabby's except that it had two small metal d-rings, one on each side. In addition, the medallion appeared to be bronze instead of the silver of Gabby's and, instead of being attached directly to the collar, was fixed to a small metal mount which had a hole in it, though it did have the same "P" that Gabby's had.

"Well," Harry said after a few moments, trying desperately to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I guess that answers that question."

Gabby looked at Ginny who was sitting reverently, waiting for a command from her master.

"What do you know of your position?" she asked.

Ginny looked at Gabby for a moment and then turned to Harry. "Master?" she asked, apparently requesting permission.

"Answer her." he commanded.

"I must obey my Master's commands," Ginny said to Gabby. "I will receive a certain amount of—" She tried to fight a blush and failed. "—sexual pleasure in doing so. I will service my Master any time he requires it and whenever I feel he needs it unless, of course, he orders me not to. I will be unable to receive sexual pleasure from sexual contact with anyone apart from my Master and likely with you as well. . ." she hesitated, then turned to Harry. "Forgive me, Master, I don't know what to call her."

"I told you what her name was," Harry said.

"Am I to address her by her name, Master?"

Harry opened his mouth but realized he was thrown by the question so he closed it again. He looked to Gabby for help.

"I don't call you by your name, Master," she said simply.

"Oh, right," he said, understanding. He turned to Ginny. "We'll cover that a bit later. For now, just call her 'miss'."

"Yes, Master," she replied.

"How is it you know these things about the Desmi?"

"I'm not sure, Master," she said. "I didn't a few minutes ago. Now I do."

"The Desmi gives us some information, Master," Gabby informed him. "Enough for us to fulfil our role."

"Well that's helpful," he said lightly. Though not as helpful as if it had given him any information, he thought a bit bitterly. He returned his attention to Ginny. "What can you tell us about the cuffs?"

"The ankle cuffs indicate my sexual subservience to you, Master," she said blushing again. "They symbolize the ability for you to lock my legs in an open position so that I cannot deny you. . . access to me. Sexual access," she clarified unnecessarily. Harry swallowed hard at this and Ginny's blush deepened. "The wrist cuffs indicate my total subservience to you, Master. They symbolize the ability for you to lock my arms apart so that I may do nothing without your permission. They can be locked to my collar for a similar effect. They also indicate that I am unable to pleasure myself."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Unable?" he asked.

"I may touch myself, of course, if you allow it, but—" She seemed to be fighting her growing embarrassment. "—I cannot have an orgasm, Master, ever, unless you give me express permission."

Harry was shocked, but at the same time, something about that bit of information turned him on. Despite having had many sexual encounters over the last few days, he managed to be a bit embarrassed when his erection, that had faded with the revelation of the new bond, returned rather quickly at the thought of this level of control. Some part of his mind was amused that things he would have found repugnant a week ago—sex with an eight-year-old, owning people, having a girl he'd known for years become a slave—now aroused him.

He noted with more amusement that Ginny, although clearly embarrassed at having to reveal her new dependant nature to him, was clearly turned on by the thought as evidenced by her arousal-slicked sex. Harry suppressed the sudden urge throw her back onto the bed and drive into his new slave for as hard and long as he could and bring her right to the edge of orgasm but not give her permission to come. His cock gave a twitch.

"Any other information you have?" he asked. "Will you be unnoticed like Gabby?"

"If you wish, Master," she replied. Gabby, seeing Harry's hardening cock, kneed herself over to her Master, bent over, engulfed him in her soft, wet mouth and began sucking and swirling her tongue expertly. Harry saw Ginny's eyes drift down to the sex act now brazenly taking place in front of her but she continued on without missing a beat. "You may also wish for me to be seen. I can even go about my normal daily routine and pretend to live my old life should you so desire. My cuffs and collar, however will always be unnoticed by all but you, your bond-mates and any current sexual partners."

Harry was doing his best to concentrate on what Ginny was saying, and Gabby was doing her best to distract him. The feel of her lips and tongue stimulating his cock was quickly becoming the only thing he could think about, though the thought of Ginny, sitting in class as though nothing were different while wearing ankle and wrist cuffs and a collar was clamouring for second place.

"Anything else?" he asked, his voice becoming hoarse with arousal.

She dipped her head again. "Nothing that I can think of, Master," she said.

"OK, first thing," he said. "I don't want you acting quite so. . . afraid of me unless you believe you've done something I'll disapprove of. It makes you look guilty." She popped her head up and looked him in the eye. "Better," he said. "Now, tell me, you're quite aroused right now, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"And I never did let you come when we were fucking earlier, did I?"

"No, Master."

"Would you like to?"

"Yes, Master."

He flashed her a grin that managed to be half mock-evil and half lascivious. She shivered in anticipation of whatever he had in mind.

"I seem to remember telling you you would have to earn my cock," he said, still grinning. She seemed to be waiting breathlessly. "Let's start of easily. Lay back and masturbate for me. Show me how you would touch yourself whilst lying in bed at night."

She immediately lay back and spread her legs wide. She licked her middle finger and began running it along the cleft of her pussy. She slid it down, gathering her flowing fluids and using them to further lubricate her finger. She brought her finger up and began teasing her clit, rubbing it in little circles, occasionally returning to the entrance to her cunt to gather more of her juices. She used her other hand to caress her breasts and flick and roll her hard little nipples. She had what Harry thought of as medium-sized nipples, about the size of a muggle pencil rubber, which were light pink and surrounded by small, wide-set, pale tan areolae, currently crinkled with her arousal. In no time, Ginny was moaning in pleasure and perhaps a little embarrassment. Harry was very turned on by the sight and was rapidly approaching his climax.

"Gabby," he said quietly. "When I'm about to come, I want you to lay back, all right?" She looked up at him and nodded around his cock. She was in the process of sliding her tongue along the very sensitive underside of his cock while intermittently moaning, sending shivers of delight through his manhood and right up his spine. He turned his attentions to Ginny. "Describe what your fantasies were like. When you masturbated in your bed or in the shower or wherever you did it, what were you thinking of? Who were you imagining?"

"I would imagine you most often, Master," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with shame and lust. Her finger was starting to dip down to her opening more often. She was also allowing it to slide deeper inside. "I had several fantasies involving you, Master."

"Tell me one of them."

She moved her finger back to her clit and began flicking and swirling around it while her other hand moved from her breasts down to her cunt and slipped two fingers inside, pumping them in and out, fucking herself with them.

"I always thought you were quite sexy in your Quidditch robes. I liked to imagine you wearing nothing underneath them. In one of my fantasies, you've spent the day flying by yourself and I go out to let you know it's time for dinner." She was pumping her fingers faster and letting the occasional moan escape. Gabby's mouth and tongue were driving Harry ever closer. "You fly down to the locker room to change and I decide to wait for you. Just after you go in, I hear you ask for me to come in and give you a hand. I go inside and ask you what you need and you just start unfastening my robes. I'm so shocked that I don't say anything at first. Then once my robes fall to the floor I ask you what you're doing. You say 'something I should have done a long time ago' and then you start to take off my bra and knickers."

She was panting now, having trouble keeping the story going, but unable to stop until she'd finished. Half of her words sounded quite moan-like and she was glistening with sweat as her fingers drove her ever onward, up along the mountain of her arousal that had no peak until her Master allowed it. She was far past the point where she would normally have orgasmed. Harry was struggling himself, he wanted to last until the end of the story but he wasn't sure he'd be able to. The sensations he was receiving from Gabby and the imagery from Ginny combined with the knowledge that she was sharing something so private—so intimate had his cock twitching, begging for release.

"You'd lay me down on a bench and then you'd open your Quidditch robes. You're naked underneath and already hard. You rub your cock on my fanny and then slide into me. I'm a virgin of course, because I've waited for you, but it doesn't hurt, it just feels wonderful. You're there with your robes open just enough that I can see your body and you're fucking me and I love every second of it."

She was clearly beyond desperate for her orgasm because most of the end of her fantasy was almost too difficult to understand as she panted and moaned and mewled more and more, likely reliving the fantasy even as she told it.

"Master," she begged. "Please, may I come?"

Gabby, hearing that, opened her throat and shoved her way completely onto his cock, the muscles in her neck milking him to orgasm.

"No," he panted. "Not just yet. Oh. Oh. Ah. Aahhhh!" he cried. "Now, Gabby!"

She pulled her mouth off of him and lay back as quickly as she could. He exploded all over her body, several shots landing from her neck down to just above her knees. He hadn't counted them but it felt like there'd been nearly a dozen good sized spurts of his seed before he was done. Ginny was nearly ramming her fingers into her cunt in an extreme need for release.

"Stop masturbating and come over here and lick Gabby clean," he said.

She instantly did as she was told, licking and sucking the strings and puddles of come from wherever it had landed on Gabby's body, her tongue snaking out and tickling the younger girl. He slipped behind her and looked at her cunt and found it red and visibly throbbing. He had been going to keep her from coming for a long time, but he just didn't have the heart at the moment.

He slipped his hand in between her thighs and up to her dripping slit. He plunged two fingers inside of her and found her channel almost inconceivably hot. She moaned loudly. He could feel her heartbeat as her cunt pulsed around his probing digits. He ran his other hand over the exterior of her pussy and found her clit. She nearly screamed at the feeling. He noticed that she had cleaned all the sperm from of off Gabby but continued to lick, possibly too distracted by what he was doing to her to notice.

"Would you like to come, slut?" he asked, slipping back into the pet name he'd called her before.

"Oh, God, Master, yes, please!" she pleaded.

"Very well then," he said as though bored. "You may come."

He suddenly felt her cunt clamp down on his fingers more than he would have thought possible. She screamed. Her entire body convulsed and spasmed with her orgasm. Harry had no chance of keeping his fingers on or in her as she jerked almost as though she were having some kind of seizure. An intense, high pitched sound emanated from her throat as her climax enveloped her. It seemed as if every muscle in her body was tensing in time with her climax. The high pitched sound slowly devolved into a rhythmic moaning that peaked with each twitch of her body. Finally, after nearly a minute, she lay exhausted, weak and panting, face-down, half on Gabby, half off. Gabby reached down and started stroking the redhead's hair in an odd echo of what Ginny had been doing to her earlier that evening.

Harry was curious if she'd ever come that hard or long before, but she looked so out of it that he didn't want to disturb her just now, so he let her drift off to sleep.

He lay down next to his two girls and found Gabby's cunt. He slid a couple fingers inside her and gently stroked in and out. Instead of working her up, it had a strange soothing effect on her, relaxing her almost to the point of sleep. It was still early, though, not yet gone ten, and there were far too many thoughts vying for attention in his head for Harry to drift off. What was he going to do with Ginny? How would the rest of the Weasleys react? Would they hate him? Would they try to take her away from him? How had it happened in the first place? Was Gabby right in that it was some connection the two had shared before from his saving her from the diary? Or had he intended to bond with her—perhaps subconsciously? He didn't think so. Gabby's theory made sense. He hoped she was right. He wouldn't want to have to avoid sleeping with other girls for fear of depriving them of their freedom as well. After all, as much as he loved fucking Gabby—and would now also have Ginny to fuck whenever he wanted—he knew for sure that Gabby and likely Ginny would be disappointed if he refused to seek out new partners. And, of course, he would be disappointed as well. In the mean time, how would he handle Ginny? Did he want a second girl following him around all day? One was distracting enough; he wasn't sure he could make it through a potions class with two sexy, willing girls begging for his attentions. By the time she had awakened at nearly midnight, Harry had made at least a preliminary decision about Ginny.

"Sit up, slut," he commanded after she'd groaned and her eyes had fluttered open. Almost faster than he could imagine, she was back to what was becoming her standard position—on her knees, resting on her heels, arms behind her back. The only difference being she was now looking at him instead of bowing her head. "Very good, slut," he said. She smiled. "Now, after I finish giving you your instructions and tell you to go, you are to slip out of my bed, sneak down to the common room and up to your dorm. You are to go to bed and sleep. In the morning, you will stick to your routine as much as possible; go to your classes, do your homework, talk with your friends—that kind of thing. You may sit close to me in the common room and at meals, but not next to me unless I tell you to do so. Understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, Master," she replied.

"You are to maintain, as much as possible, the illusion that your old life continues. However, you may interact with me as my Doulos if you are able do so unnoticed. You will also sleep in the nude and wear nothing under your school robes except for shoes and socks." He looked down at the crimson curls topping her pubic mound. "And, trim your pubic hair. I want no more than a small shape right above your cunt, and keep that short; I want my slut to look nice."

He stopped for a moment. "Do you have any questions, slut?"

"Two, Master," she said. "What shape would you like my pubic hair to be?"

"Whatever you like, just nothing larger than about two inches," he said, holding his fingers up so that there would be no misunderstanding. "Your other question?"

"Is 'slut' to be my name now?"

Harry laughed at a brief mental image of Ginny in her collar and cuffs sitting in class while McGonagall said, "Five points to Gryffindor, slut, for that excellent bit of transfiguration."

"In order to maintain the illusion of your normal life, you will continue to answer and introduce yourself as you always have. In private, however, I believe I'll continue to call you 'slut', for now at least," he answered. "Any other questions?"

"No, Master," she said.

Harry bent down and whispered in Gabby's ear. She nodded when he finished and slipped out of bed between the curtains.

"Are you ready to sneak back to your room, slut?"

"Yes, Master," she responded.

"You may be my slut, but I don't want you to have that reputation so you are not to be caught," he warned. "If anyone sees you I will be most displeased and I assure you that you will not like the punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," she replied.

"Then you may go."

She kneed herself over to the edge of the bed and peeked out through the curtains. Once she was sure that the way was clear—Harry's dorm mates had all come up and gone to bed while she was dozing—she slipped off the bed and tiptoed across to the door. Harry slipped out after her and into the invisibility cloak that he had asked Gabby go get out of his trunk again. The pair followed his new bond-mate discreetly as she sneaked out the door, both hidden beneath the cloak so that Ginny wouldn't be aware that she was being watched.

She made her way down the steps and slowed as she neared the bottom and peered around to make sure the room was empty. She suddenly snapped back against the wall. Harry craned his neck and noticed a lone seventh-year still studying by the dying fire.

Ginny slid along the wall and looked around at the boy, likely wondering if she could get by him. The problem was, although he wasn't watching the stairs, he was sitting facing them. Harry watched with bated breath as she glanced around the room and considered her options. He was growing more and more aroused at the though of Ginny trying to make it across the common room while completely nude; he thought he could almost feel the pounding of Ginny's heart as she prepared herself to sneak by the older student.

Harry watched as the boy looked up from his book, glanced at his watch and, closing his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. Ginny decided to take her shot and started forward. No sooner had she taken a single step however, than he dropped his hand from his nose and opened his eyes, blinking them owlishly as though fighting to remain awake. Ginny, quickly jumped back to her hiding spot, pressing her hand over her heart; she knew she'd nearly been caught. The look of mingled fear, excitement and frustration on her face said it all.

From somewhere up above, Harry heard a door open and close. The jerk of Ginny's head told him she heard it too. For all Harry knew it was just someone heading for the loo but it could also be a seventh-year coming down to check on their room-mate. Ginny seemed all to aware of her suddenly very precarious position; she kept looking alternately between the student by the fire and the curve of the stairs above her.

Harry looked back at the late-night studier and saw him bend over to retrieve something from a book-bag at his feet. Ginny had seen her opportunity as well because she quickly darted down the remaining stairs and ducked behind a chair to the left of the stairs peeking around it to keep her eye on the older boy. It seemed her timing couldn't have been worse, however, because at that moment, the portrait hole opened and the two sixth-year prefects climbed through grumbling about having to patrol till midnight on a Saturday. Ginny took the distraction offered her and used it to slip across a space to dart behind another chair. She was within striking distance of the girls' stairs, however if she couldn't make it to them before the sixth-year headed up to her dorm, there would be no place for Ginny to hide as her current hiding place was almost directly between the seventh-year and the stairs.

Harry watched as the seconds ticked by until she was caught. She was breathing hard, likely with a great deal of adrenaline pumping through her veins from the fear and excitement. He also noticed that she was aroused enough that her entire sex was covered in her slippery fluids. Perhaps it was the thrill of possible discovery, perhaps it was the pleasure she was getting from following his orders. Perhaps it was both. Harry himself was aroused from watching the scene playing out in front of him. He wondered if his encounter with Cloyssa that morning had given him a bit of an exhibitionist streak as well. Then he remembered Gabby's little lunchtime blow job and how much he'd been turned on by it and reckoned that whatever streak he had was already there.

The boy's prefect said goodnight to the others and headed for the stairs. Ginny cringed as far as she dared around the chair behind which she was hiding to lessen the chance that he would see her. Once he was gone, she turned her attention—as did Harry and Gabby—to the remaining pair. Harry was surprised to see the girl slip into the arms of the seventh-year and begin kissing him. They were apparently a couple, which, Harry realized, was probably why he was up so late—not to study, but to wait for his girlfriend. Ginny used the distraction to slip into the girls' stairwell and climb to the third-years' dorm. Harry and Gabby retreated to his bed and spent the next hour fucking themselves to exhaustion. They fell asleep with her laying atop him, still impaled on his softening cock, planning on dealing with the ramifications of owning Ginny in the morning.

The next morning they awoke to Ron's voice again. This time he was calling through the curtain telling him that he wasn't going to risk seeing Harry starkers. Harry's wand was on his night stand so he couldn't cancel the one-way silencing charm and by the time he'd managed to get his shorts on and poke his head out to say that he was decent, Ron had gone.

Harry was particularly randy that morning, but he and Gabby were also very hungry after the workout they'd given each other with and without Ginny's help the night before and as they'd had a lie in after staying up past one o'clock, if they didn't want to miss breakfast, they would have to skip a wake-up shag.

All through breakfast, Harry kept thinking about Ginny walking around with nothing on under her robes. He was anxious to get her to a semi-private location—an alcove, an empty passageway or something—so that he could have her open her robes and prove that she was naked underneath. He also wanted to approve her new grooming procedure. As he was walking from the Great Hall back up to the tower, however, he heard someone call his name.

"'Allo 'Arry," said Fleur. Gabby tensed beside him. She was apparently still angry with her sister.

Harry turned to the older Veela. "Fleur," he said rather coldly.

Fleur poured on the charm but didn't use her "pull" at all, thankfully; he didn't like to think what he would have done to her if she had tried that again. He also didn't like to think what Gabby would do to her, come to that.

"So, 'Arry," she said as seductively as she could. "'Ave you zought about my request at all?"

"Fleur—" he started but she cut him off.

"I could make it worth your while, 'Arry," she said. "You could 'ave my virginity, I would give it willingly to you." Harry nearly recoiled from her. While under other circumstances, he might have taken Gabby's sister to his bed willingly, he found the fact that she was offering to whore herself to him in return for a bit of pleasure was surprisingly disturbing.

"I am Veela," she continued. "We know 'ow to please a lover."

Despite the fact that the hall was empty, Harry lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "I am perfectly aware how talented Veela are, Fleur. I don't need you to demonstrate."

"But you do not need my seester when you can 'ave me, 'Arry," she said. She had slinked up to him and was nearly rubbing herself against him in an effort to seduce him that was failing miserably. Harry put a restraining hand on Gabby as he could tell she would like nothing more at the moment than to pound her sister into a puddle of pink goo. Gabby glared at him venomously.

"Fleur," he said, "I'm only going to say this once. There is nothing to can offer that will allow you to come between me and your sister. The fact that you would even think you could proves that you know nothing about Veela Desmi. You are also doing nothing but harm to your relationship with Gabrielle and that hurts me more than you can know. She's already so angry with you that I'm not sure she will ever trust you again. Stop this now before you ruin your relationship with her permanently."

Fleur seemed to pay no heed at all to his words.

"But, 'Arry," she said just as silkily. "Surely zer is some way—"

"No, Fleur," he interrupted. "As I said yesterday, there will never be a right time for this." He turned abruptly and strode away, pulling Gabby along with him. Two turns and a secret passageway later, he slowed his pace.

"I'm sorry, Gabby," he said.

"For what, Master?" she asked, an edge to her voice. They stopped walking altogether.

"For holding you back," he said softly. "I was afraid you might do something in anger that you would regret later."

"I would only have killed her, Master," she said. He knew she didn't really mean it, but there was still a current of underlying rage in her tone. When he didn't respond she gave him a worried look.

"Gabby," he said seriously, "my parents were killed when I was fifteen months old. I never had any family. Now I have you. And Ginny. But you still have your family in addition to me. I just don't want to see that relationship end or even be permanently damaged if I can help it. So if I hold you back, it's not because I don't think you can handle yourself or I'm trying to keep you from speaking your mind, it's because I love you and I'm hoping there will always be a second chance with your sister."

There were tears in her eyes as Gabby threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. Then she hugged him and sobbed for a minute.

"I love you too, Master," she said wetly after she'd recovered a bit. "Thank you."

"Any time, love," he said.

They started walking again.

"What did you mean you told her yesterday?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Oh, she tried the same thing yesterday," he responded. "Only without offering me her virginity as a reward."

"Why didn't you say anything about it?" she asked, sounding a bit hurt.

"It was when I was looking for you," he said. "I had other things on my mind."

"Oh," she said simply.

"What I don't understand, is why she's acting like she's addicted or something. I just, well, used it on her once and that wasn't even full strength."

"It's probably because you're human and she's not."

"What do you mean?"

"The Agein is not as effective on Veela as it is on other races so it's likely that Veela are more susceptible to a human with the Agein. And Veela who grow up in the colonies are exposed to it from an early age and are nearly immune to it before they're Fleur's age. Our mother grew up in a colony but Fleur and I did not so she hasn't developed the resistance to it that other Veela have."

"Oh."

"It may also simply affect her more than it would a full-blooded Veela, or she may have a natural susceptibility to it," she said.

They walked on in silence for almost a minute before—

"Harry," a voice called.

Harry and Gabby stopped and turned to see a redhead standing at the doorway to an empty classroom. It was not the redhead that he'd been looking for, however.

"Yes, Susan?" he responded.

She crooked a finger at him. "Could I speak to you for a minute?" she asked. There was something in her voice that told him this wasn't a completely friendly meeting but she didn't seem threatening at all.

"Sure," he said. "Something wrong?"

She closed the door behind them after they entered the room, but instead of saying anything, she appeared to lose her nerve.

"What is it, Susan?" he asked.

She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again and closed it again. Finally, she took a deep breath and let it out.

"Did you—" she said, then she seemed to falter a bit and the rest of her question was barely more than a whisper. "—do something to Hannah, on Friday?"

"Did she tell you I did?" he asked.

When she answered, her voice was a bit stronger.

"Well, she was acting strangely in Charms," she said. "And then she refused to talk about it. When I pressed her later, she said that you had cornered her and apologized to her for some stupid thing or other. She didn't seem to really understand what you were talking about, but she said you were being big-headed or something."

Harry's eyebrows went up. Hannah apparently did not remember him talking about his "pull".

"Now, I'll admit you and I don't travel in the same circles here at school," she said. "But I can't believe you were acting big-headed. I thought maybe you did something to embarrass her and she just didn't want to admit it."

"Well," he said, "as a matter of fact, I did do something to embarrass her." He put his hands up defensively when she stepped towards him in anger. "Purely accidentally, I give you my word." She stopped and backed down.

"It's an ability that I just acquired recently and I was trying to control it. It got a bit out of hand that day and unfortunately, Hannah paid the price. When I realized what I'd done, I felt awful and tried to apologize but I guess I didn't explain myself very well." She looked at him as though she didn't believe him.

"I have control over it, now," he said. "But I haven't used it much since then as it seems to keep getting me in trouble." He thought not only of Hannah, but of Fleur as well; the only two girls he'd used it on intentionally and they'd both been embarrassed by it—Fleur was still embarrassing herself because of it.

She eyed him critically. "Have you been messing about with Charms or something that you shouldn't have?"

Harry couldn't help but glance at Gabby who still had traces of anger on her face from the encounter with her sister, but was watching the scene developing in front of her with interest. "No," he said. "It's something I acquired, er, naturally."

She looked at him sceptically. "Naturally, huh?" He began to feel a bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "Is it dangerous?"

"No," he said. "At least not yet. As I said, I haven't used it all that much."

"But you used it on Hannah?" she asked, her anger rising.

"I told you that was an accident."

Silence stretched on but her gaze lost none of it's intensity.

"Use it on me," she said abruptly.

"What?" he asked, shocked. "No!"

"You said it wasn't dangerous," she said.

"That's not the point," he said defensively. "I've already told another girl no today. It's not something to be messing about with."

"But it's all right to mess about with it in class on Hannah?"

"How many times do I have to say it—" he began.

"An accident, yes, I heard," she said sarcastically. Then her voice softened. "Look, Potter, Hannah is my best friend and you used this. . . whatever it is. . . on her. I want to know that she's all right. You can understand that, can't you?"

Harry was beginning to lose his resolve. "Did she tell you what it felt like?"

"Not really," she said. "She was a bit vague about that part too."

"I can't be totally sure, but I think it makes you very, er, randy," he said. "And it also makes you think that I'm, er, well. . . attractive ."

She flushed a bit at this. "Are you saying it will make me want to have sex with you?"

"Very likely," he admitted.

She narrowed her eyes and stared at him inscrutably for several seconds.

"I can handle it," she said.

"Susan," he said, "I don't think you understand. I—"

"Harry," she interrupted, "I don't think you understand. I'm telling you to do it now." She adopted a very smug look. "Or perhaps I should go and fetch Professor Sprout? I'm sure the two of you could have a very interesting conversation."

"Blackmail?" he asked incredulously.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make sure my friends are all right," she said. "You know, Hufflepuff loyalty and all that."

He still hesitated.

"Last chance, Harry," she said. "You've given me fair warning. Anything that happens is my fault, all right?"

He sighed and felt for the tendril of magic connected to her. A bit of strengthening and it was quickly about the same level as he'd had it with Hannah—as close as he could remember anyway.

Susan's eyes lost focus and she unconsciously opened the top two fastenings on her robes. She sauntered towards him, seductively licking her lips. She was breathing heavily and flushed. He quickly lowered his "pull" to normal levels. She continued to advance on him. He backed into a desk.

"Susan," he said. "Snap out of it."

"What's the matter, Harry?" she asked. "Don't you find me attractive?"

Harry almost snorted in laughter. Susan Bones was one of two girls in Harry's year that had had breasts when they'd sat on the stool to be sorted their first night at Hogwarts—the other being Lavender Brown. Now, three and a half years later, it was widely accepted—by at least all the boys in Harry's dorm—that Susan had the largest set of breasts of all the fourth-years. She was definitely into the process of becoming a beautiful young woman, but was still just young enough that most would refer to her as cute. She had a pixyish face (in the muggle sense of the word) and long, shiny red-blond hair that fell to her waist.

"It's not that, Susan," he said. "You look very nice, beautiful, even. And sexy." He grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from coming any closer. "But this isn't you. You're just acting this way because of what I was doing to you."

She stopped trying to get any closer and looked him up and down, ending by gazing into his eyes.

"'Was doing'?" she asked. "You're not still doing it?"

"No," he said.

"Then it's me, Harry," she said. "I still want you to make love to me."

She began opening her robes, revealing what was underneath. She was very trim, with a small waist and what Harry could only describe as perfect hips. She was wearing what had to be the laciest pair of knickers he had ever seen; though they matched the very lacy bra that held up her ample tits.

Robes at Hogwarts should be banned, Harry thought, as Susan's hit the floor. The fact that her figure—not to mention her chest—had been covered up by those long black robes all this time was surely a crime against the male population of the school.

She reached up, took his hands in hers and moved them from her shoulders, placing them squarely on her breasts. Almost automatically, he began fondling them—rubbing, caressing, teasing them—through the black lace of the bra as his resolve crumbled. They had to have been double-d's at least, though with Harry's limited understanding of female garment sizes, double-d simply meant very large. He was enjoying the feel of them so much that he didn't register Susan moving closer to him until they were kissing. For one last brief moment, he fought for control and to stop himself taking advantage of his "pull" with Susan, but as soon as she started unfastening his robes with Gabby's obvious help, he gave up and gave in.

Soon, their tongues were duelling and exploring each others mouths while hands removed clothes and explored various body parts. Harry, though never having been as overly preoccupied by the size of female chests as much as Seamus or Dean, found himself delighting in Susan's larger than average bosom. It took him little time to discover that her nipples were very sensitive; even rubbing them through the cloth of her bra, she reacted quite strongly to his touches.

Susan, looked down in surprise when she felt Gabby pull her knickers down. Her eyebrows shot up behind her fringe as she looked back at Harry with the unspoken question on her face.

Harry decided he should properly introduce the two since he hadn't thought to do it before now and hadn't done it at all in his other encounters.

"Gabby, this is Susan Bones," he said.

She stood up from lowering the older girls knickers to the floor and said, "Hello."

"Susan," Harry said, "this is Gabrielle Potter."

Her jaw dropped for a moment at the name and she looked from Harry to the blond girl and back. "Potter? Don't tell me," she joked. "She's your wife."

"More like I'm his sex toy," she said brazenly.

It was difficult to believe that Susan could have looked any more shocked, but somehow, she managed it.

"Can I borrow her sometime?" she asked.

"Sorry," he said cheekily, "but I make it a habit not to loan out my really valuable possessions." By this time Gabby had unhooked the clasp of Susan's bra and Harry was able to access her generous mounds directly. Susan forgot all about borrowing his sexy young plaything when he latched his lips on one of her very tan, very large areolae and began flicking the nipple with his tongue.

"Oh, God, Harry!" she called out, throwing her head back in rapture. "Oh, yes. That's so good."

His hands slipped down and found the cheeks of her arse. He kneaded them roughly, pulling them widely apart before letting them slowly slip back together only to repeat the process. Susan was moaning in his ear as she fumbled around for his hardening cock. She pulled on it a little too roughly and he had to tell her to be gentle.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said rather breathlessly. "It's just. . ." She ducked her head a bit in embarrassment. "I love having my arse played with. I don't. . ." She cut herself off.

He removed his mouth from her nipple. "What?" he asked as he continued massaging her firm flesh.

"Gabrielle. . ." she said hesitantly. "She's never really a sex toy. Is she?"

He looked her in the eye, nodded and said, "Yes."

Susan moaned slightly. "I don't suppose she could—" She whispered her next words. "—lick my arsehole?" She blushed fiercely, then suddenly threw her head back and let out a strangled cry as Gabby dropped to her knees and did exactly as she asked. Harry returned to sucking her tits and flicking and laving her nipples with his tongue. When Gabby took over for Harry's manipulations of the Hufflepuff's arse cheeks in addition to licking the girl's nether hole, Harry slipped one hand up to the breast that wasn't getting his mouth's attention and slipped the other in between her legs, finding her surprisingly hairless sex. He slipped a finger down through her folds and then used the moisture it had collected to allow it to slide and swirl around her clit.

She came without warning, involuntarily squeezing his cock as she did so. This had the effect of killing any momentum he had as he'd build towards his own climax. Once she'd come down from her orgasm, she realized what she'd done.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she panted.

"It's all right," he said. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't want to make her feel bad.

She gave him a bit of a push on his shoulders.

"Have a seat, Harry," she said. He sat on the desk behind him. She pushed his shoulders again so he leaned back on his arms. She bent over and, holding his cock steady with one hand, she licked around the head, flicking her tongue back and forth.

She wasn't the most talented cocksucker ever, but what she lacked in technique, she made up for with enthusiasm. She spent most of the time with her tongue darting over the soft helmet of his prick, occasionally sliding her mouth over it, though never past the head and never for more than a few seconds before she would back off and start licking again. The hand that was wrapped around the shaft would give an occasional stroke or two as though she kept forgetting that it was there. He tried to encourage her my giving her a bit of direction, trying to improve her technique and running his fingers through her gorgeous hair. It helped the sensation a bit when she would moan while she had the tip of his cock in her mouth, but it would have taken a long time to find his release that way.

After a few minutes of her spirited, yet clearly amateur attempt at a blow job, she pulled off his cock and stood up.

"I want you to fuck my arse, Harry," she pleaded. "Please?"

He slid off the desk and had her bend over it. He knew that Gabby had been licking her puckered little hole, but he didn't know if that would be enough lubrication, so he ran his cock through her cleft, picking up some of her free flowing juices before positioning it and the entrance to her arse. He gave a push and the head popped in quite easily. She grunted a bit when it did.

"Are you all right?" he asked, just to make sure.

"Oh, yes," she said dreamily. "Fuck me, Harry. Pound me!"

He slid deeper into her bowels revelling in the sensation of a different set of grasping muscles massaging his cock. It was something that he'd not taken the time to appreciate when he'd done this to Gabby a few nights before; he'd been too desperate at the time.

He set up a fairly brisk pace, driving in and out of her back hole. She seemed to love it, moaning in between each little grunt that was forced from her as he collided with her arse each time he thrust in. Gabby slipped in between their legs and began licking her pussy and fondling his balls. After no more than a couple seconds of this, her sphincter clamped down on his cock as she came into Gabby's mouth.

Harry pulled out of her, and guided her back. He lay on his back with her straddling his waist facing away from him. She sank back down on his cock and began bouncing up and down quite vigorously. Gabby moved beside them and busied herself laving the girl's breasts. Harry managed to find the Veela's cunt and sink two fingers in all the way. He thrust his hips back at Susan as she fucked her arse on him and he finger fucked his little toy. Almost no sooner had Gabby found the older girl's cunt with her fingers and flicked across her clit than the Hufflepuff came again.

Harry was nearing his release and pulled his fingers out of Gabby to be able to grab Susan's waist and increase her speed. She seemed to like the new, faster pace as she came twice more in rapid succession before Harry felt himself slipping past the point of no return. Gabby shoved her hand between her own legs and rubbed her cunt to give her a bit more stimulation in anticipation of the pleasure she would receive from her Master's orgasm. Harry grunted and spilled himself in Susan's bowels. Beside him, Gabby twitched and came on her thrusting fingers. Gabby kept her other hand moving in the redhead's folds trying to squeeze another climax from the girl. After a few more quick flicks over the teen's clit, she had one more orgasm—a small one—as she slowed her thrusting on Harry's cock.

So into their very pleasurable encounter were the three of them that they never heard the door to the classroom open and close. What they did hear was a voice that sounded shocked and perhaps a touch hurt.

"Susan?"

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .A Lover's Quarrel

"Oh my God," said Susan as Harry looked up into the confused face of Hannah Abbott.

Susan pulled herself off of Harry's cock, a large glob of semen escaping through her momentarily distended sphincter and plopping into his pubic hair. His mouth opened and closed several times as the shock of being discovered settled into every part of his body. He'd been so caught up in the moment, that he hadn't taken his usual precautions of locking and silencing the door and he was so stunned by Hannah's appearance that he never gave any thought to covering himself. How could he have been so careless?

Hannah turned for the door but Susan, in all her naked and sweaty glory grabbed her arm.

"Hannah," she said desperately, "please don't go. Let me explain."

"What's there to explain?" Hannah asked, sounding for all the world like she was fighting bursting into tears. "I know how you felt. I don't blame you." She lost her composure, pulled her arm from Susan's grasp and stepped towards the door.

"Hannah, please," she pleaded, on the verge of tears herself. It seemed to be the sound of Susan's voice that made Hannah pause. "I know this looks bad, but there is an explanation. At least hear me out before you leave me."

Hannah seemed to deflate a bit, then took her hand from the door and nodded, still not looking at Susan.

"Er, perhaps I should go," Harry said carefully.

"No, don't," Susan said. "We'll just go over here." Then she pulled Hannah to the back of the classroom—still not bothering to dress herself—where the pair sat down at a couple of desks and started talking quietly.

Gabby suddenly distracted him by starting to clean his genitals with her mouth and tongue. By the time she was done, Harry was once again rock hard. She settled into a slow, relaxing blow job, sliding her delightful mouth down over his cock at a sedate pace, not enough to bring him to orgasm, but enough to keep him erect.

Though he couldn't make out exactly what Susan and Hannah were talking about, partly because of their hushed voices, and partly because of the wonderful distraction provided by his little sex toy, he did pick out several words: "love", "expect", "connection" and "exclusively" among them. He also heard his name mentioned several times.

After several minutes, he noticed a bit of a lull in the conversation.

"I don't mean to intrude, but are you two talking about me over there?" he asked.

Hannah closed her eyes and hung her head a bit. Susan simply said, "It's private, Harry."

Harry shifted Gabby off his erection and stood, walking over to stand with a desk between him and the two girls. "And yet, you won't let me leave to give you privacy," he pointed out gently. Susan looked at Hannah with an inscrutable expression. "I could be wrong—it may be none of my business, but it seems I'm involved somehow. Er, somehow other than what we were doing, I mean. If I've done something wrong I'd like to attempt to make it right, but I can't do that if I don't know what's going on."

"It's. . ." Susan started. Harry expected her to say "private" again, but instead she said, ". . .complicated."

Harry, reached down and pulled his wand out of the pile that was his robes and flicked it at the door, locking and silencing it. Barn door, meet horse, he thought dully. Not that Hannah was a horse, by any stretch of the imagination. She was quite lovely; short-cropped blond hair, fair skin, flawless complexion, piercing grey eyes, nice breasts—nowhere near as large as Susan's but respectable in their own right—and a developing figure that left many girls in the castle looking short-changed. She was wearing an off-white button-front jumper over a simple white and aqua blouse and a light grey skirt that came to her knees.

"Is it enough that I give you my word that anything said or done in this room doesn't leave it?" He gave them both his best trust-me-I'm-here-to-help look.

Susan looked questioningly at Hannah who in turn stared appraisingly at Harry for several long moments. Finally, she lowered her head as though ashamed and nodded slightly. "Are you sure?" Susan whispered. Hannah nodded almost imperceptibly again.

Susan took a deep breath and started talking. It turned out, when she'd said it was complicated, she hadn't been understating the matter.

Susan and Hannah, it transpired, were. . . involved. Hannah had always considered herself a lesbian; she'd really never found any boys or men attractive sexually. It was a secret that she'd kept to herself until the previous year. Susan, on the other hand, was blatantly bi-sexual. She made no distinction about boys or girls, men or women; she liked both equally. Unfortunately, she found the pickings at Hogwarts a bit on the slim side as far as boys were concerned, she'd dated a couple of them that she found moderately attractive, but they'd both turned out to be far more interested in her ample breasts than she was in them.

Sometime in their third year, they'd admitted their attraction to the fairer sex to each other. Shortly thereafter, they'd started a purely physical relationship (in addition to their existing friendship) which started out with a bit of kissing, then some exploration, then mutual masturbation. Since the beginning of the year, however, they'd spent more time in each other's beds than they did their own, having sex more often than not. It had been one of those nights, when they lay in bed holding each other and talking that Susan had confessed her crush on Harry Potter. He was always so unassuming and quiet, with an underlying strength that she admired. She informed her lover that Harry was the only boy in Hogwarts that would draw her interest. Harry blushed a bit when he heard this.

Hannah, to Susan's surprise had admitted a similar crush. She'd grown up hearing about the boy-who-lived and, as a child, she'd had dreams of him sweeping her off her feet, getting married and living happily ever after. When she'd started Hogwarts, and had finally seen him for the first time, she thought he just looked so innocent and cute, she wanted to go wrap her arms around him and hold him. As she grew older and entered puberty and her interest in boys evaporated and her interest in girls blossomed, she'd still held on to that image of clinging to Harry Potter, keeping him safe as much as he did the same for her.

Following the night of their confession, they'd often share little fantasies with each other that included Harry and would sometimes pretend that Harry was with them when they had sex. As the months passed by, however, Hannah and Susan found their feelings for each other deepening. They weren't sure exactly when it happened, but having sex became making love. The pair were falling for each other. It had come out in the open after a particularly vigorous bout of lovemaking. They had confessed their feelings to each other, but to break the tension both had jokingly claimed that as soon as Harry wised up about one of them, the other would be history. They'd laughed about it at the time—but then came a certain Charms class.

Both Hannah and Susan had been feeling more strongly attracted to Harry over the last couple of days and neither new why. Then suddenly, while trying to concentrate on her schoolwork, Hannah wanted nothing more than to run across the room and shag Harry stupid; had it not been for the others in the classroom, she would have. When he'd apologized to her, it had left her confused, embarrassed and angry. Worst of all, she'd felt as though she'd betrayed Susan and had wanted nothing more than to put it behind her. Susan was worried about her though, and pressed her. The fact that Hannah couldn't really remember what Harry had talked to her about in that empty classroom had put a strain on Hannah. They had argued, Hannah more angry at herself than at Susan.

Susan, concerned about her girlfriend, had sought Harry out, demanding to know if Hannah was all right.

Hannah, feeling bad about the argument, and wanting to make up with her girlfriend had gone looking for Susan—following the directions of someone that had seen her heading down a corridor earlier and then simply listening to the sound of her voice coming through the unsilenced door—only to find her fucking the one boy in all of Hogwarts that she feared could take Susan away from her.

The silence stretched on when Susan was done explaining. Harry noticed that Hannah had tears streaming down her face. Susan noticed too and she pulled the other girl into an embrace and the pair cried on each other's shoulders for quite some time. Harry felt horrible, he'd managed to come between these to girls by blundering about without thinking.

"I'm so sorry," he said quietly.

"What are you sorry for?" asked Hannah.

He took a deep breath. "I gave you my word that I won't share anything you say with anyone else," he said. "Can you both do the same for me?"

They nodded.

"Gabby," he said, extending an arm to pull her towards him. She came and stood by his side. "This is Gabrielle Potter." Hannah gasped. "Until recently, she was Gabrielle Delacour. She's Fleur Delacour's little sister. She was at the bottom of the lake for Fleur to rescue in the second task. . ."

He went on to tell them about the bond and his new found abilities, including the "pull" and how he'd learned to master it, at Hannah's expense. He also told them that normally they would forget what he'd told them as Hannah had that morning after Charms class, but, since he was convinced that it was the only thing that could help repair their relationship, he was allowing them to remember his ability. He only asked that they not tell anyone. Since he also told them that he had decided not to use it on anyone else as it had proved too dangerous to do so, they agreed.

". . .so I take full responsibility for Susan's actions today. If I hadn't used the 'pull' on her, we would not have been. . . doing what we were doing when you found us," he concluded.

"I badgered you into it, though," Susan said.

"Because you were concerned about your girlfriend," he rebutted. "I shouldn't have given in to you. I knew what the 'pull' could do, you didn't."

"Harry, I threatened to go to my head of house."

"All right, you too," said Hannah suddenly. "Stop it." They both looked at her, gobsmacked at her outburst; she'd been so quiet up to that point. She took a deep breath and let it out.

"I don't blame you, Susan," she said. "If I hadn't been so embarrassed when I was under the influence of this 'pull' thing Friday, I probably would have fucked him too. I know just how. . . enticing he can be." Harry wanted to say something about the fact that he was standing right there, but decided to let the girl speak. "We both knew the other had some feelings for Harry, so I can't really be angry with you. Just tell me, Suze—" Hannah took a steadying breath. "—do you still love me?"

"Yes, Hannah," Susan said, smiling through her tears. "I do. I love you very much."

They kissed. Part of Harry wanted nothing more than to watch these two girls kissing so passionately, but he showed them some respect and gave them some privacy by turning away. He pulled Gabby into his arms and hugged her tightly to him.

"I love you, Master," she whispered in his ear.

"I love you too, sweetie," he said.

When they pulled apart, they saw Hannah and Susan watching them.

"Looks like we're not the only two in love," quipped Susan. Harry blushed and Gabby beamed, slipping her arm around her Master. All the tension that had been in the room seemed to have evaporated.

"I'm starting to feel overdressed," Hannah joked, breaking the silence that had followed.

"We can remedy that," Susan said, beginning to tug on the jumper the blond wore.

"Susan, no," Hannah said as she pulled away from her girlfriend. She was smiling though.

Susan, ever the pragmatist, looked at Harry and said, "Tell, me Harry, what do you think of Hannah?"

"Huh?" Harry said intelligently.

"Do you think she's sexy?" Susan asked.

"Susan!" Hannah said, her voice half shocked, half whinging.

"Admit it, Harry," Susan continued, "you wouldn't say no to a shag with this goddess, would you?"

Harry, embarrassed that Susan could put it so bluntly after such a tender moment and equally embarrassed for Hannah who'd been put on display by her girlfriend just stuttered, "Y— yes, I— I mean no." He smiled and shook his head at his own inability to speak. "I mean of course I would love to shag her as you so delicately put it."

Hannah, surprised by his words, stopped trying to prevent Susan from stripping her for a moment; long enough for the redhead to get her jumper off and start on the buttons of her blouse.

"Really?" she asked as though she didn't believe him.

He just nodded. She looked down to where his manhood was hardening at the thought. Her eyes widened for a moment. Then she seemed to realize that Susan was in the process of removing her blouse and she pulled the garment closed again. She turned to Susan.

"Are you trying to get me to shag him so we'll be even?" she asked suspiciously.

Susan almost looked hurt by her question.

"Of course not," she said. "This is me saying 'there's the one bloke in the world that you fantasize about. Don't pass up the opportunity.' He's made it very obvious that he wants you, and you can't possibly tell me that you don't want him. So if you're both willing, you should go for it, no strings attached."

Hannah looked doubtfully at Susan.

"You want me to just shag someone else?" she asked.

Susan took her girlfriend by the shoulders and peered into her eyes.

"I want you to be happy—more than anything else in this world. I love you Hannah and I could be happy keeping you all to myself for the rest of our lives. But I know you have a thing for Harry; I know your fantasies. I know that if you pass up this opportunity, you're going to spend far too much time thinking about what you'd missed out on. I don't want you to look back with regret. I want you to look back and say 'that time with Harry was brilliant, I'll never forget it.'"

Hannah studied Susan face for a moment longer and then suddenly attacked her lips with her own. The kiss was long, powerful and passionate and this time, Harry did not look away.

When they broke the kiss, Susan redoubled her efforts to strip her girlfriend, moving on to the blond's skirt when she refused to let go of her blouse. Hannah turned her attention to Harry. For a moment, she looked at him appreciatively. Then she looked back at his now completely hard member and seemed to lose her determination.

"I can't Suze," she said halfheartedly. "He's a bloke. I wouldn't know what to do."

"Hannah," Susan replied, half jokingly, "He's a bloke. He does know what to do."

Harry walked over towards Hannah who backed away slightly, unaware that she was doing so.

When he reached her, she seemed torn between bolting and jumping on him. He took her hand in his and looked her in the eye.

"Hannah," he said gently. "I don't want to pressure you, but if you really do want to do this and are just a little afraid or unsure, and if you trust me, then close your eyes."

She stared at him searchingly for a few seconds, long enough that Harry thought she wouldn't do as he asked, but then her eyes fluttered closed.

He moved in and gently pressed his lips to hers. She tensed for a moment before relaxing into the kiss. It was soft and sweet at first, gentle and reassuring. There was care and perhaps a little love in the kiss. As it lingered, however, it began to smoulder and then to flame. Soon they were kissing with a deeply instinctive need. Susan no longer needed to strip Hannah as she began to do it herself. Harry licked along her lips and she opened her mouth and allowed entrance to his tongue. Their tongues met and danced; duelled and caressed; licked and glided. Harry soon knew every square millimetre of Hannah's wonderful mouth and she knew just as much of his.

He brought his hands up and found bare skin at her hips. She'd lost her blouse quite quickly. He ran his hands up along her back and found the clasp of her bra. Unfortunately, and as strange as it may sound considering how many girls he'd slept with, he'd never actually come up against one of them before. After a few valiant tries, he found himself stumped. He broke their kiss when he started laughing.

Hannah, the kiss over, faced a laughing Harry and frowned.

"What?" she asked self-consciously. "What's so funny?"

Harry stopped laughing with great difficulty.

"I, er, um," he floundered. "I don't know how to unhook a bra."

Hanna and Susan gave him shocked looks then burst out laughing. Harry blushed in embarrassment at his technical inexperience. Gabby quickly took pity on him and unhooked Hannah's bra. Hannah let out an "Eep!" as the garment suddenly loosened around her chest.

Harry tried to pull the bra down and off, but Hannah had another attack of nerves and instinctively bent her arms at the elbow so that he couldn't remove it. Instead, he simply placed his hands below it and slid them up underneath so that he was palming her breasts. Hannah's mouth gaped for a moment at the new contact but quickly relaxed into it. Susan managed to get her to lower her hands and removed the bra. Gabby had moved on to Hannah's skirt, had made short work of it, and had moved on to untying the girls trainers.

Harry focused his attention on the girl's breasts. They weren't in the same league as Hannah's of course, but that didn't mean they weren't beautiful in their on their own. They were somewhat small—a little less than a handful—but they were perfectly formed, pert and firm. Her breasts had apparently never seen the sun as they were as pale as they could possibly be, topped with pale pink areolae and equally pink nipples which were small and fat; about as big around as his index finger but less than a quarter of an inch tall.

He bent down and ran the tip of his tongue in swirling patterns around the curve of her breasts, spiralling in towards her fat little nipples. With his hands, he reached down and dipped into her knickers and found a her sex, equally as hairless as Susan's.

"Don't tell, me," he said, lifting his tongue from Hannah's lovely breast for a moment while starting to trace his finger around her pussy lips. "You shave each other's pubic hair?"

"Shave?" asked Susan. "You know there's a charm for that, right?"

Harry quickly covered his gaffe.

"But do you do your own or each other's?" he pressed.

"Each other's," she admitted.

Harry returned to Hannah's tits and continued to caress her sex.

Hannah tentatively put her arms around Harry but didn't seem to know what to do with them. She tried running her hands along his back and fondling his arse, but she wouldn't put any feeling into it.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said and for a moment, he was afraid that she was going to say that she couldn't go through with it. "I just don't know what to do. I've never been with a bloke before, only girls."

"Just—I can't believe I'm saying this—just pretend I'm a girl. Do what you'd do to a girl." He shot a look over at Susan and gave her a wink. "Just don't treat my cock like it's a clit."

Susan's eyes went wide, then she buried her face in her hands.

"Was it that obvious?" she said, embarrassed.

He chuckled at her. "Only a little," he said.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "I've never given a blow job before, but I've licked my share of pussy. I just went with what I knew."

"It's fine," he said. "I can't fault you for being inexperienced. You gave it your best at that means a lot."

"You sucked his cock?" Hannah asked, sounding shocked. She looked from Susan's face to Harry's crotch as though trying to make the connection in her mind.

"Not very well, apparently," she said.

Harry put his hand on Susan upper arm to comfort her. "It was fine," he said again. He looked pointedly at Hannah. "From the sound of things, you're not going to be sucking a lot of cock in future. I'm sure, Hannah's happy with the way you satisfy her, and that's all that matters."

Susan's and Hannah's eyes met and whatever unspoken communication passed between them made Susan feel a lot better.

By this time, Gabby had managed to get Hannah to kick off her shoes and slip of her socks. She'd also managed to slide the girl's knickers to the floor.

Harry pulled Hannah close to him, pressing her body up against his. When she felt his erection at her lower abdomen begging entry to her body, she became nervous again. When Harry felt her tense up, he decided that he really needed to get Hannah loosened up. He guided her over to a couple of desks and quickly rearranged them so that there were two desks next to each other for her to lay on and he could sit at a chair next to them. He helped her up onto the makeshift bed so that she was straddling the chair, then leaned her back, placing her feet on the edge of the desk. Harry quickly sat down in the chair and was faced by smooth, shiny, slick cunt.

"Well, we're in a classroom," he said cheekily, "so let the lesson begin."

He reached up and used his thumbs to pull her pussy lips apart revealing the pink flesh that lay inside. His tongue found her wet opening and licked lightly. Hannah moaned. He drew his tongue up towards her clit and then danced around it, not touching it.

Susan and Gabby decided it was time to get them into the act, Gabby attending the reclining girl's breasts with her hands, mouth and tongue and Susan, content with planting her lips on her girlfriend's and kissing her as passionately as possible.

Harry dragged his tongue back down towards the base of Hannah's cunt delighting in the slightly pungent taste of the fourth-year's fluids.

Hannah's clit, now fully erect, was quite large, the largest that Harry had yet seen. Large enough that he could easily slip it in between his lips and suck on it—which explained Susan's treatment of his cock during her blow job—so that's exactly what he did. It seemed to drive Hannah to new heights of ecstasy. She began gently thrusting her hips up to his face in what Harry thought was a very erotic slow, circular motion.

He stopped sucking and flicked the clit with his tongue once, twice, thrice before dragging his tongue back down through her folds where he extended it and began tongue fucking her. He slid one hand up and glided a finger around her clit occasionally slipping over the hardened bit of flesh. She was flowing rather freely now and Harry was eagerly lapping at her hole, drinking her juices. Hannah was on sensory overload being stimulated by three people at once. The thought of having Ginny there to work on whichever breast Gabby wasn't flitted across his mind, but there was no way to contact her.

Hannah was moaning and writhing on the desks very near her climax. Harry slid his tongue back out of her hole, replacing it with two of his fingers, and glided it back up to her clit where he stopped licking and blew on it, then flicked it once more. Hannah came explosively on his thrusting fingers, arching her back more that he would have thought possible. She groaned loudly and Harry could feel her cunt spasming and her fluid leaking out, running down her bum and coating the desk beneath her. He took her clit back into his mouth and started sucking once more. Her orgasm, which had just started sliding off it's peak, peaked yet again. She cried out as the sound was forced from her throat by her thrashing body. He held her down with his arms to keep her sliding off the desk.

As he sucked the throbbing bit of flesh in his mouth, he flicked it with his tongue, extending her orgasm even further. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of her grasping cunt as fast as he could. Hannah's cry was so high pitched that her voice cracked and she gasped, thrusting her hips up into Harry's face. Harry glanced up to see that Susan had moved from kissing Hannah—as evidenced by Hannah's very vocal orgasm—and had taken Harry's proposed spot for Ginny on the girl's right breast while Gabby still suckled on the left.

Harry slipped his mouth of the girl's clit and back down to the entrance to her cunt, sliding his fingers out and capturing it with his lips. His mouth was quickly inundated with her fluids. He thrust his tongue inside the girl and wiggled it around as randomly as he could while periodically swallowing.

Hannah peaked yet again, this time with a low, guttural grunt and clamped her legs closed on Harry's head so tightly that it was almost painful. He continued swirling his tongue and swallowing her juices as it was now all he could do with his head trapped as it was.

Finally, her chain of orgasms slowly passed and she began to relax into a puddle of goo on the desks. When she released Harry's head, nearly his entire face was glistening with the girl's secretions. She was panting hard as though she'd been forced to run several miles without stopping and she didn't seem to have the energy to do more than lay there, unmoving. She was sweaty, despite the coolness of the castle in mid-February and there were strands of her damp hair clinging to her forehead.

Susan and Gabby had stopped their ministrations and stood back watching the girl, Susan with love and lust and Gabby with pride and happiness.

"That was," Hannah managed when she'd caught her breath enough to talk, "unbelievable."

"I've never seen you come that hard," said Susan.

"I never have," her girlfriend responded. "But I—" she continued nervously as though afraid that Susan would be upset that she'd come harder with Harry than she ever had with her. In response, Susan kissed the girl fiercely.

"Just glad I could play my part," she said.

Harry bent down and started cleaning the girl of her coating fluids.

"Ohhhh," Hannah moaned. "Easy, Harry. I'm not sure I'm quite ready for any more."

"Take your time," Susan answered for him. "You've not had his cock inside you yet."

"Inside?" Hannah asked, sounding startled.

"Well, you see," Susan said with pretend seriousness, "that's where it goes when you fuck."

Hannah feigned slapping her girlfriend's arm with an exhausted hand.

"Wench," she said playfully.

"Tease," Susan responded, equally playful.

"I'm not sure," Hannah said carefully. "I've never given much thought to the physical act. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."

"Don't worry," Susan comforted. "You may not be attracted to most blokes, but your body will know what to do when one is inside you."

Harry continued lapping up the girl's fluids. He had her nearly clean when she started getting wet again, apparently excited by the idea. He moved to take it directly from the source.

Susan moved to her lover's ear and began speaking quietly to her, though still loud enough that Harry could make out what she was saying.

"Can you just imagine it, Han?" she asked huskily. "Having his cock inside you—slipping and sliding all the way up into your very centre?"

Hannah whimpered quietly and Harry caught a sudden rush of her fluids on his tongue.

"Feeling the head of his cock splitting your cunt lips apart and plunging into your slick vagina? Feeling every vein on it's surface as it stimulates your most sensitive flesh, driving you higher and higher until you can't keep from coming around him?"

Hannah moaned this time. She was definitely getting worked up from Susan's little speech. Susan, never moving her mouth from beside her lover's ear, reached over and began caressing the recumbent girl's supple breast, kneading the pliant flesh, teasing the fat, erect nipple. Gabby was already doing something similar to the other breast using her fingers and her lips, tongue and teeth—biting and licking and rubbing and nibbling. Hannah arched her back, thrusting her chest into the touches of the two girls.

"Think about it, baby," she said, "about him moving over you, those strong Quidditch arms holding you as he thrusts deep inside your hot—" She licked the rim of Hannah's ear. "—slick—" She nibbled Hannah's earlobe. "—cunt."

"Oooooh," Hanna moaned incoherently. She turned her head and managed to catch Susan's lips in a kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance as though their very lives depended on the outcome. Hannah was moaning into Susan's mouth. When they broke the kiss, Hannah bit Susan's lower lip and pulled it out as she pulled away.

Since Hanna's head was still turned to the side, Susan raised up over her to continue her teasing monologue. Hannah took the opportunity to capture one of Susan's nipples in her mouth, making the redhead shudder and her voice falter a bit as she spoke.

"Think of him pounding into you, driving you to climax—" She shivered from Hannah's attention to her nipple. "—after—" She licked Hannah's ear, flicking her tongue as deep inside as she could get it. "—climax, until he finally can't hold back any more and sprays your womb with his seed." Hannah, apparently overcome by Susan's words, moaned and bit the nipple in her mouth. Susan's breath caught as she had a small orgasm from the sensation.

Hannah's juices were flowing as much as they possibly could be. She was clearly turned on; it was now or never.

He removed his mouth from her dripping sex and straddled the chair between his legs. He took his cock in hand and began sliding it up and down the Hufflepuff's pussy, coating his manhood in the slickness of her arousal. Her hips would twitch every time the head of his cock grazed her clit.

"Oh, he's ready, Han," said Susan, now that she'd recovered from her mini-climax. "He's getting it all nice and slick in your lube." Hannah turned her head and looked down her body at the black-haired boy standing between her legs. The look in her eyes clearly said that she couldn't believe this was really happening but that she was obviously unwilling to make it stop. She was going to be fucked for the first time in her life.

"He's going to fuck you, Hannah," Susan said, now back to the original ear. "I know you don't consider yourself a virgin, but you've never had cock inside you. A vibrator just isn't the same thing." Harry watched as Hannah, already flushed with lust and arousal, truly blushed at having such an intimate secret revealed to the boy she'd fantasized about. "And that dildo you have, as. . . very. . . nice as it is, just doesn't compare to the real thing." Hannah watched Harry for his reaction to what Susan was saying, but all he did was grin lasciviously at her.

He continued running his cock up and down her cleft, but he'd added an occasional push when he'd reach the bottom; not enough to enter her, but enough that he knew she could feel that he was just that close to taking her.

After a few more trips up and down her sex and two more nudges at the entrance to her cunt, he looked her in the eyes and asked, "Are you ready, Hannah?"

There was a bit of a stutter in her nod but it was a definite nod. She was a ready and willing as she would ever be.

Harry's cock reached the entrance to her cunt and nudged one last time. This time however, he didn't stop and retreat. This time he pushed gently and slowly but irrevocably inside her. She was so worked up and wet from all the attention being paid her, that he slid right in all the way, until he was buried to the hilt in her warm, grasping channel.

"He's inside you, Han," Susan said. "He's fucking you." Susan could apparently no longer keep up the commentary. It seemed she was so worked up herself that she simply had to participate. She latched her lips onto her lovers and kissed her fiercely. Then she moved down, trailing little kisses all along her jawline, neck, down her chest and joined Gabby in laving the girl's nipples. Her hands however, were busy on her own body; one was stroking and tweaking her own nipples alternately and the other was plunging two fingers into her wet sex.

Harry was now slowly sliding in and out of Hannah, making sure that the girl could feel every one of his movements. Hannah was staring at the point where they were joined as if she couldn't believe that she actually had a cock inside of her. There was wonder, amazement, arousal, lust and a bit of shock all mixed together on her beautiful face.

Harry revelled in the thought of fucking a lesbian who was willing to have no other cock but his. It was a heady thought, powerful and intoxicating. It may simply have been because of a long-standing crush—a childhood attraction lingering into adolescence—but it still managed to stroke his ego, and encouraged him to strive to make her first—and possibly only—time one that she would never forget and would look back upon fondly for the rest of her life.

He slid slowly in an out of her, feeling every ripple and undulation of her twitching cunt; delighting in the way it stimulated him, focusing every ounce of his being on his cock. Hannah's eyes rolled back in their sockets and she lowered her head back to the desk with a silly grin on her face as she began to bring her hips up to meet his. Harry smiled; she was certainly enjoying it now. She'd managed to forget or ignore the fact that she was fucking a boy instead of a girl and had simply lost herself to the sensations.

Hannah brought her hands up and began running them down the backs of the female participants. She caressed Susan and Gabby equally as they both sought equally to help drive her into oblivious ecstasy. She found Gabby's arse and one of Susan's breasts, somehow managing to gently fondle her lovers large orb and firmly knead and squeeze the Veela's cheek and not get them mixed up in her lust-addled brain. Susan shuddered in another small orgasm at her lover's touch whilst Gabby left her breast and kissed the blond quite tenderly in thanks for the attention she was receiving from the girl.

Harry continued his movements, picking up the pace ever so slightly. Hannah was beginning to whimper into Gabby's mouth. She licked Gabby's lips and the younger girl opened her mouth willingly to admit the Hufflepuff's questing tongue. Hannah removed her hand from the girls arse and brought it to the back of her head, pulling her in closer to deepen the kiss. Susan, apparently deciding that it looked like fun, left the breast she was attending and joined them in a long, sensual, three-way kiss.

Harry took up the slack and ran his hands over the girl's abandoned tits, his fingers tracing circles around those fat, erect nipples. Hannah was pulling both girls closer to her—mashing cheeks, pressing lips, teasing tongues. Their hair formed a lovely drape of blond, red-blond and silvery-blond. Harry thought he'd never seen anything that looked quite so tantalizingly beautiful.

He, picked up the pace just a little more, still moving quite slowly and deliberately. Hannah was moaning now, approaching another orgasm and still, Harry's unhurried rhythm drove her ever onward. She was beginning to writhe again, just a bit, but enough to let him know that she loved what was being done to her. He rotated his hips a bit so that, with each inward push, he came more in contact with her clit.

"Oh, oh, oh," she said into the other girls' mouths in time with his pumping. She was much closer now.

Susan broke her third of the kiss and again brought her lips to Hannah's ear.

"You're about to come, aren't you, Han?" she asked, still finger fucking herself, though not as vigorous so that she could keep her voice steady. "You're going to come all around his hard cock. You're going to come with him inside you, filling you up."

Hannah was writhing more and had definitely taken the dominant role in her continuing kiss with Gabby. She worked the young girl's lips and tongue as though she needed to devour her, all the while grunting and moaning, clearly on the cusp of release.

"You're going to come and milk his cock and he's going to squirt his sperm inside you—fill your womb with it, till it drips out all over the floor and you'll have to walk all the way back to the dorms with his spunk running down your legs. Everyone will smell it and know that you've had hard cock in your fanny."

Hannah's inner walls were twitching quite regularly now and she was awkwardly trying to throw her hips into his. He found her nipples and gave them a bit of a tweak, then slipped a hand down to her sex and grazed her distended clit. That was all it took.

She broke the kiss with Gabby as she threw her head back and came with a shuddering cry. It was guttural and primal. Her fluids rushed around his cock as he picked up his pace and began thrusting into her, trying to prolong her orgasm. Her cunt squeezed and grasped at him as he pounded into her. She was jerking her hips up to meet him, but seemed to be doing so only in time with her own pulsing orgasm.

"Oh, come for me, baby," Susan said in the girl's ear. Harry would have thought she would be oblivious but the extra stimulation of the redhead's words seemed to intensify her climax.

Harry took her hips and drove into her forcefully, bending over the girl to make as much contact with her clit as he could with his pubic bone. Every few thrusts, the girl would cry out again and he would feel the spasming of the muscles surrounding his cock begin anew.

He was quickly nearing his own climax and began working toward that more than sustaining Hannah's. He noticed Gabby was fingering herself, adding to the feeling of pleasure she was receiving from the Desmi. He, in turn, felt her pleasure trickling back to him and it pushed him ever closer.

"Come around his hard cock," Susan said in her lover's ear. "Bathe him in your delicious wetness." Hannah cried out again and the contractions Harry felt redoubled. He could take no more.

With a grunt, he painted the inside of Hannah's cunt with his seed as he came violently. He continued thrusting in time with the contractions of the muscles at the base of his cock.

"Oh, God, Suze," said Hannah between grunts as her string of orgasms finally started to subside. "I can—feel it—inside. He's coming—inside me!"

Next to Hannah, Gabby's knees buckled as she came around her thrusting fingers, panting heavily. On Hannah's other side, Susan managed to finger herself to another small orgasm as she watched everyone around her climax.

Finally, the pulsing of Harry's cock in Hannah's cunt slowed and stopped as his orgasm ended and he leaned over her, panting from the effort. She looked up at him with glazed eyes, basking in the afterglow for a moment before she seized him by the neck and pulled herself up for a very passionate thank you kiss. Then he straightened up and slid his softening cock from her.

Gabby, who had recovered quite quickly from her own orgasm, guided him to the next desk over, where she sat him down and started cleaning him once again, using the same method she'd used earlier. Harry watched in fascination as Susan kissed her way down Hannah's body until she found the girls nether lips. Susan quickly planted herself in the same chair Harry had used. She used it for the same purpose as well, diving right in to Hannah's leaking cunt, licking up the mixture of juices that flowed from her lover's slit. Her eye's widened at her first taste of semen.

"Wow, you taste good, Harry," she said before returning to her self-appointed task.

"Thanks," Harry replied, not knowing what else to say. He leaned back and placed his hand on Gabby's head and lovingly ran his fingers through her hair as she cleaned him of Hannah's secretions. She looked up at him as she worked diligently to clean her Master and smiled around his hardening cock.

After Susan had managed to clean Hannah fairly thoroughly, Hannah gently moved the redhead's face away from her crotch.

"It's a bit to much right now, love," she said. Susan motioned for Hannah to budge over and climbed up beside her rather awkwardly. They really had to hold onto each other to keep themselves from accidentally pushing the other off the desks.

Harry, hard again, pulled Gabby up and brought his lips to hers. They kissed for several long moments. He could taste a bit of himself, a bit of Hannah and Gabby's own sweet lips. He had been somewhat afraid that he would taste some of what Susan and he had done earlier, but he didn't. Perhaps it was something in Veela nature that they never taste bad. Or perhaps it was because of her role in the Desmi. Whatever the reason, Harry wouldn't question it.

He became aware of the fact that Susan and Hannah were whispering to each other. Susan would occasionally lift her head up and look at Harry. Each time she saw that he had noticed, she would drop her head again and whisper even more fervently in Hannah's ear. Hannah never looked at Harry, but then, she was lying with her back to him and if she'd tried to turn her head around in her precarious position, she would likely have hit the floor before getting a look at him. Harry was fine with that, though, because it afforded him a brilliant view of Hannah's very nice backside. Firm and round, it was an arse that any red-blooded male, and apparently, one female as well, could appreciate.

They were whispering quietly enough that he couldn't make out what they were talking about, though Susan's occasional glances up at him gave him a clue. Finally, he heard Susan say, "Are you sure?"

Hannah responded with a quiet, "I'm willing if you are."

"Good," Susan said and gave Hannah a little push. Hannah rolled back and, having no more surface to roll onto, dropped to the floor, landing in a heap with a shocked but amused scream.

"You. . .!" she said once she'd jumped to her feet and rounded on Susan.

". . .love you," Susan finished with a sly grin.

Hannah's mock glare faded into a smile as she pulled the now standing Susan into an embrace. "I love you, too," she said. "Wench."

"Tease." They kissed each other, then turned towards Harry and Gabby. Hannah immediately blushed to her roots and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and fighting to return her complexion to normal.

"Harry," Susan said brightly. "We, er, um, have a question for you."

"OK," Harry said.

"You know how we both feel about you," she continued. Harry nodded. Gabby, apparently deciding she was prescient in certain matters, was grinning ear to ear to Harry's amused annoyance. "And you don't seem to have any issues or hangups with regard to, er. . . casual sex. " Harry caught up with Gabby. Hannah had finally gained control of her embarrassment. "We both really enjoyed what we did here today, and, well, we were wondering if, maybe, perhaps, we could possibly. . . do it again." Harry allowed himself to smile.

"Well, I don't know," he said, obviously faking reluctance. "Two very hot girls want to have sex with me. I may have to think about it."

"Harry," Hannah whinged.

"Of course," he said, smiling broadly now. "How could I turn you girls down?"

Hannah nudged Susan in the ribs with her elbow.

"Could we, er," she hesitated a bit, "make it a recurring kind of thing? Not regular or anything and not a relationship—well, beyond friendship, of course—but just, whenever we feel like it? No strings?"

Harry thought about it for a few seconds.

"One condition," he said. He had their total attention. "Always both of you. Never one at a time. That way there's no jealousy, and no more misunderstandings like the one today."

The girls looked at each other and then, as one, launched themselves into his arms. He hugged them both to him for as long as they wanted.

"We have a condition of our own," Susan said into Harry's neck after a few seconds. They pulled back and looked him in the eyes.

"And what would that be?" he asked.

Hannah fought a blush again and Susan shifted her gaze to Gabby.

"We'd like Gabrielle to teach us how to give proper blow jobs."

Before Harry could say anything, Gabby, who was still grinning ear to ear, nodded very excitedly. Both girls smiled at her.

"Well," Harry said cheekily. "It appears your request can be arranged."

Gabby, eager to start teaching them, had Harry get up off the desk. He stood and leaned his bum up against it.

She knelt down in front of him and had the two girls do the same, one on either side.

"Merlin," Harry said breathlessly. "You have no idea how many males in this castle would give anything to be in my place right now."

"Hush you," said Susan, playfully slapping his thigh.

"A blow job is not just sucking cock," Gabby said professorially. "It's a whole experience. There are several reasons you might want to do this; cleaning him off, getting him hard after an orgasm or just a long slow soothing suck that can relax him and even lull him to sleep. Anyone can do those. Cleaning him is just licking and sucking anywhere that needs it. Getting him hard is also pretty easy, especially with Harry, with his sex drive, just don't hurt him and he'll eventually get hard no matter what you do."

"Hey!" Harry cried in indignation.

"It's true," she retorted with a smug expression.

"Yeah, all right," he said.

She grinned at him. Hannah giggled a bit and Susan managed to suppress hers.

"The relaxing one is easy, too," she continued. "Just find a position where you can lay on him with your head on his belly and keep his cock in your mouth. Don't move your head, just suck gently. He finds it very relaxing."

She took his flagging cock in her hand and stroked it a few times, returning some blood flow to it.

"But what you really want to know is the full blow job; brining him off with your mouth. First and foremost," she said as she brought her lips near his hardening member, "is that it might be called oral sex, but you don't just use one part of mouth, or even just your mouth. You use your lips, your tongue, the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat. You can even use your cheeks, teeth and throat with a bit of practice. You also need to remember that, while the head of the cock is the most sensitive part, the entire thing really needs attention, which often means using your hands to stimulate whatever part your mouth can't reach. . ."

Gabby went on for a while, giving a brief overview of some techniques and covering some of the less crucial but still important aspects like keeping eye contact, stimulating the testicles and learning to gauge his reactions to what they were doing, all the while keeping him hard with the occasional stroke of her hand.

Soon enough, Harry found himself the object of a practical lesson in fellatio. Gabby lowered her mouth onto his cock, sliding her tongue around the sensitive underside. She moved her head back and forth, sliding up and down his cock, quickly brining him large amounts of pleasure. He quickly found it frustrating as she kept halting her ministrations to give the girls some bit of advice or instruction on what she was doing.

Eventually, Susan had another attempt at oral sex with him and this time, she was much improved, though quite tentative. She was willing to slide her mouth farther onto him than she was the first time, but she still kept forgetting to move her hand and Gabby had to keep reminding her.

Hannah on the other hand was much more enthusiastic than he had expected her to be. He reckoned that, since she'd just had a really nice sexual encounter with him, she wanted to show her gratitude. She dove on his cock the first time and shoved it to the back of her throat. She gagged on it and came up coughing. Susan was trying not to laugh at her girlfriend but soon the humour she saw in what had happened got the better of her and she snickered. Hannah tried to act hurt that she was being laughed at, but soon joined in herself before calming herself and giving Harry's cock another go.

She at least could remember to keep her hand moving and was pretty good with her tongue as well, but she kept scraping him with her teeth just a little too much to be pleasurable and she kept backing off to apologise. He kept telling her it was OK, but she didn't seem to believe him.

Before long, both girls had made improvement and Harry was drawing near to another orgasm. Susan was the one sucking him at the moment, remembering to stoke his shaft with her hand and sending wonderful sensations down his cock and up his spine with a combination of a swirling tongue and a gentle grazing with the roof of her mouth that she'd discovered came almost natural to her.

"He's getting close," Gabby said.

"Yeah, he looks like Susan looks right before she comes," Hannah said cheekily.

Susan tried to glare at her girlfriend out of the corner of her eye, but with Harry's cock in her mouth, it just made her look ridiculous and Hanna giggled at her.

"It's not a requirement that you let him come in your mouth, but it will be better for him, pleasure-wise, if you do," Gabby said. "Susan you know what he tastes like, Hannah, would you like to finish him off?"

Hannah seemed like she wanted to, but was having trouble getting past the idea of him spurting directly into her mouth. Perhaps it was because she wouldn't know how it would taste. Whatever her reason, she simply said, "Not this time." Harry nodded at her reassuringly so that she knew he wasn't disappointed in her.

"Susan," Gabby asked, "are you going to let him come in your mouth?"

Susan nodded while he was deep inside her mouth and the sensation made Harry's roll back in his head. He could feel it welling up inside him, almost as if he could follow the trace of his sperm as it left his bollocks and made its way up the pathway to his cock. Susan continued to suck and swirl and graze and stroke. With a long drawn out moan that became a cry, he came, pumping his seed into her waiting mouth. She swallowed a couple of times as he kept spurting. When his orgasm subsided, she pulled of his cock and he caught a glimpse of quite a large amount of come still in her mouth. She pulled Hannah to her and pressed her lips to her lover's. Their mouths opened and Susan transferred the load to her girlfriend. Hannah was surprised yet delighted. Harry's eyebrows went up at the action and he caught Gabby's eye. Apparently, she though it was just as sexy as he did.

Hannah's and Susan's kiss went on long after the shared semen was gone, then three of the quartet found their discarded clothes and dressed while talking about the future. They tried to nail down when their next rendezvous would be and where, but the couldn't decide anything for sure. They were definitely all excited about it, though. Harry gave them both warm hugs and long kisses before they left.

As he and Gabby walked down the corridor afterwards, he remembered that he had been looking for slut so that she could show him her new pubic hair design and a though struck him.

"Gabby," he asked. "Now that Ginny's in a Desmi with me, she'll have to be registered as well, won't she?"

"Yes," she responded. "Perhaps we should write to mother and let her know of your new ability and of your new slut. She might be able to register her the same way she did me."

Deciding that was a good idea, they headed back to Gryffindor tower to write a letter. They then went to the owlery and sent Hedwig off. Neither knew how long it would take to get a response but Harry knew Hedwig would get the letter to it's destination as quickly as possible.

Since both of them were hungry and it was nearly noon, they headed off to the Great Hall for lunch together.

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .Hermione's Thoughts on Subjugation

On their way to lunch, the pair ran into Ron and Hermione who were also headed down.

"Where've you been all morning, mate?" asked Ron.

"Oh, I bumped into Susan and Hannah," he responded lightly.

"What did they want?" asked Hermione.

Harry shot her a sidelong glance at her tone. It was rather colder than normal.

"We talked," he said and in his mind he added, "among other things."

"All morning?" she pressed, still a bit coldly. Had Ron and Hermione had some sort of argument?

"We lost track of time," he said non-committally, hoping to ease the tension.

She gave him an inscrutable look as they found seats and sat down, Hermione again sitting almost uncomfortably close to him.

As they were almost finished eating, a small piece of parchment fluttered over and landed next to Harry's plate, unnoticed by all but him. He casually picked it up and read it out of sight of Ron and Hermione.

After lunch

Fourth Floor

East Corridor

Mirror

Password: Sorbere

—ACS

He looked around to see if he could see who had sent the note but didn't see anyone trying to catch his eye. Most students were seated and eating or talking. A group of what looked like three first-years were walking towards the exit. And someone with short brown hair was leaving the Hall through the double-doors, but he couldn't tell who it was.

He looked at the note again. "ACS" Initials, he guessed. But who was ACS? He couldn't think of anyone. His mind still back in the classroom he'd left not half an hour ago, he kept trying to make Susan and Hannah somehow fit those initials, but finally had to admit he couldn't really make that make any sense at all.

Shrugging, he shoved the note into his pocket and returned to his lunch. He'd just have to go check it out.

Hermione tried to engage him in conversation about something she'd been studying from their last History of Magic lesson, but as he didn't remember a word of that class, the conversation went nowhere.

"Ron's birthday is tomorrow," Harry said quietly to Hermione.

"I know," she said without any indication that she cared one way or the other.

"Did you get him something nice?" he asked.

"Why?" she asked as though the idea of being nice to Ron was somewhere in the vicinity of repugnant.

They must have had a row whilst he was with Susan and Hannah.

"Just curious," he answered.

There was silence between the three of them for several seconds.

"Well, I'm off to the library," Hermione said suddenly, as though Harry and Ron had announced their destinations first and she didn't approve.

"What's up with her?" he asked as Hermione disappeared through the double doors.

"No idea," Ron replied with food in his mouth. "Been acting that way for days. You probably haven't noticed 'cause you've hardly been around."

"Yeah," Harry said absently. "Sorry about that, mate. Things have just been a bit frantic recently. Stuff keeps coming up." Gabby snorted into her pumpkin juice at that. Only then did Harry realize his double entendre. He fought a smirk. "Things'll settle. They always do."

"Yeah," Ron said thickly through a mouthful of bread.

Harry excused himself and left, telling Ron he'd try to meet up in the common room later.

He and Gabby made their way to the fourth floor and over to the East corridor. It took them less than a minute to find the mirror, but they walked right past it as there were a pair of Slytherins walking the other direction.

The sight of the Slytherins put Harry on edge. He suddenly realized that this could be some sort of set up; an attempt to ambush him. Then again, there were a lot of easier ways to trap him than to send an anonymous note and hope he shows up. And if it was the Slytherins, he wouldn't expect them to be so blatantly obvious right near the trap.

After a couple minutes, he doubled back to find the corridor empty. He approached the mirror, still a bit on edge. He pulled his wand just to be on the safe side.

"Sorbere," he said. The mirror shimmered and he could suddenly see through it, like smoky glass. There was a figure on the other side that he couldn't quite make out.

He reached out and touched the mirror, it gave to gentle pressure and wobbled a bit like a jelly when he removed his fingers. He held his breath and stepped through.

The other side was a stone passageway that extended about five or six metres before turning sharply to the left and disappearing from sight. It was lit by two bracketed torches.

"Jumpy Potter?" said the figure standing near the left wall. He recognized her immediately and flicked his wand at the mirror to silence it before putting it away.

"I didn't recognize your initials," he said. "And there were a couple Slytherins walking by when I got here."

"You didn't recognize my initials?" she said. "After three years of playing side by side? Alicia Caroline Spinnet."

"I never knew your middle name," he said.

"It was my mother's name," she said.

"Oh," he said simply. He'd caught the "was". "So," he said brightly, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Exactly that," she said, smirking. "Pleasure." He realized it was she he had seen leaving the Great Hall as he was looking for the person who'd sent him the note.

"Is that so?" he asked, grinning.

"I wanted to grab you yesterday when you were studying in the common room and drag you up to your bed and let you fuck my brains out again, but I was just too sore from Friday."

"Oh," he said, feigning sadness. "I suppose I'll have to go easy on you then." He knew he would have to do no such thing.

"Don't you dare!" she said. "I was randy all day yesterday. I couldn't keep my mind on my work. No bloke has ever made me come like you did, Harry. Angie and Katie know what I need, but girls don't really do it for me. I need cock, Harry. And so far, you're the only bloke I've found that knows how to use one."

"Well, that's all well and good, Alicia," he said, his tone making it perfectly clear that he didn't mean what he was saying. "But I'm afraid I'm all shagged out for the day. Threesome a little while ago," he added in an overly confidential tone. "You understand."

"Don't you give me that, Harry," she said sounding almost angry. I know you have more stamina than most after what you did with us Friday. Don't tease me, Harry. Fuck me. Pound me. Break me! You know you want to." Her last sentence was as seductive sounding as she could make it.

Harry acted as though he was giving the matter serious thought, rubbing his chin for added effect.

"Well," he said, "I suppose I might have a little left in me." Gabby enjoyed yet another double entendre. "But, here's the thing: You remember Gabby." Gabby stepped forward from her place by Harry's side, her wide-eyed expression a mixture of pride and anticipation.

"She was there for my little threesome," he said. "So technically it was a foursome, but alas, though poor Gabby participated, she didn't get much out of it." Alicia looked from Gabby to Harry and back. "So I thought, since you had so much fun and did such a good job pleasing her on Friday, it should be no trouble for you to do it again."

Alicia stalked seductively up to him. "Harry," she said sexily. "I told you that girls don't do it for me. I need cock, Harry. I need your cock and I need you to give it to me." She was upon him now, trying to fondle him through his robes.

He grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed. She took her hands off of him immediately.

"Oh!" she cried in pain and some pleasure. "That hurt, Harry."

"Yes it did," he said menacingly. "And you know I can make it hurt magnificently. But you are going to service my toy and you're going to do it now, or I just might fuck you, and beat you but stop short of letting you come."

Alicia groaned in arousal at the thought. Harry knew she would probably hate it—and him—if he did that, but the idea of being abused in that way fired her imagination.

She approached his little sex toy and led her over to where she had spread a conjured blanket. Gabby lay down on her back and spread her legs for the older girl. Alicia knelt down and started to lean over her.

"Stop!" Harry said. "Take off your fucking clothes first, you stupid cunt." Alicia looked at him in confusion. Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. "How am I supposed to see where to kick you when you're not doing a good enough job if you're wearing those robes? I might miss you altogether and I for one want all my kicks to count."

Alicia shuddered visibly and shed her robes faster than Harry thought possible. She hesitated for only a split second before stripping completely.

She dropped back to her knees and brought her face down between the Veela's legs.

"And put some effort into it," Harry commanded. "Make her come and make it a good one and I'll think about giving you what you want."

Alicia brought her mouth into contact with Gabby's pussy. She tongued up the slit and danced around her clit for a minute before finding her hole and slipping her tongue into it.

Gabby was enjoying the sensation quietly so that Alicia had no idea how she was doing. Harry caught her eye and gave her a wink. She smiled and said, "Is that all the best you can do? We may be here for a while, Master." She did an excellent job of sounding bored despite the pleasure Harry knew she was already feeling.

Alicia threw herself into it, licking and sucking the Veela's clit and drinking the girls flowing juices noisily. She used her hands to caress the girl's thighs and then brought them up to rub and tweak the girl's nipples.

Gabby was biting her lip to keep from moaning audibly.

"Can't you do any better?" she asked, a slight tremble in her voice that Harry expected Alicia missed.

She put even more effort into it. Gabby grabbed the Chaser's hair, making painful fists. Alicia cried out in pain at the suddenness of it. Gabby began directing her to whichever part of her cunt she decided needed the most attention.

"A bit better," said Gabby.

Harry knelt down and put his head near Alicia's. "You'd better get a move on and make her come," he said. "I don't have all day." He watched as Alicia moved her tongue inside his toy's pussy and fucked the girl with it. She shoved it all the way in and held it there, bringing her nose in contact with Gabby's clit. She wiggled her head a bit, or perhaps it was Gabby wiggling her head for her.

He watched the older girl please the younger for a few seconds and then stood up. Walking behind Alicia and standing near her feet, he toed his foot between her legs and kicked her knees apart suddenly. Alicia made a noise of pain muffled by the eight-year-old's pussy as her knees scraped across the blanket; it provided little padding and the floor was quite rough.

He brought his foot up against her naked cunt and dragged the top of his trainer rather harshly against it, leaving a glistening wetness on the shoe. Alicia moaned into Gabby's folds.

"You got slime on my shoe, slut," he said and he kicked her right between her legs hard enough that most girls would have complained at the very least. Alicia just grunted with the impact, shivered and groaned. Harry then proceeded to try to "clean" his trainer by wiping it on her pussy again, roughly stimulating her cunt.

"Oh, oh!" she said. Harry noticed that it wasn't muffled any more; she had stopped using her mouth on Gabby and was just stroking the girl with her fingers.

He pulled his foot from between her legs and placed it on her arse, shoving her forward into the girl's crotch.

"Keep licking," he said through clenched teeth.

She clamped her lips around Gabby's clit and thrust her two fingers in and out of her pussy rapidly. Gabby lost control of herself and groaned, hunching herself up into the mouth of the older girl. The reaction spurred Alicia on, causing her to suck harder, thrust faster and use her other hand to stimulate the girl's nipples.

"That's a bit better, you fucking slut," Harry said. "Have a bit of pride it what you're doing, even if it is sucking the cunt of a little girl you don't really know." He punctuated his statement with a slap on the side of her arse, nearly hard enough to topple the girl. "God, you're a slut," he said. "You've only seen this girl twice and you've licked her cunt both times." She groaned into Gabby's drooling slit. "And you're doing it now to get me to fuck you. That sounds like payment for sex to me. I guess that pretty much makes you a whore, doesn't it?"

Alicia moaned and moved the hand that had been stimulating Gabby's nipple down and began fingering her own cunt which was nearly dripping with her arousal. Quick as a wink, Harry reached underneath her and seized her wrist, squeezing it painfully hard.

"Get your hand out of your cunt on put it back where it belongs, whore!" he snapped, forcing her now wet hand back onto Gabby's chest. "You don't get to pleasure yourself. This isn't about you. This is about us using you to get off. If you come, fine, if you don't, it doesn't matter to us."

She whimpered and redoubled her efforts in trying to bring Gabby off, rubbing her slime-coated fingers over the girl's chest, flicking her tongue around her slit and thrusting her fingers deeply into the her sex.

Harry stood behind Alicia and stripped off his robes and boxers. He could feel Gabby's arousal flowing through the Desmi. She was close, now, thrusting her hips at the girl between her legs and whimpering a bit.

"Well," Harry said, "it seems you can do something right after all." He knelt between her legs and positioned himself at her entrance. "Make her come, slut. I'm getting anxious here and I'm tired of waiting. Make her come or to hell with your pleasure." She increased her pace as much as possible. Gabby was very near her climax now, writhing under the Chaser's ministrations. "Or perhaps you could persuade Gabby to kick you in the cunt until you come."

Alicia made a squealing noise while her lips were latched onto Gabby's clit. The vibration sent her over the edge and she sprayed the brunette's chin with her fluids. Gabby grabbed handfuls of her hair again, shoving the fifth-year's face into her sex as hard as she could. Alicia continued to lick and suck and thrust as Gabby's orgasm subsided.

Harry rewarded her by shoving his cock into her as brutally as he possibly could. The impact shoved her mouth off of Gabby's cunt and wrenched the Veela's hands from her hair, a few strands of which chose to remain between fingers rather that stay with the head from which they grew. Alicia grunted.

Harry began pounding into her as fast and violently as he could manage, never allowing the girl to regain her original position at the younger girl's pussy.

"You sure aren't trying very hard, whore," he said as he slammed into her. "Tell you what: If you can make her come three more times before me, I'll not tell anyone that you're a whore and I'll allow you to beg me to fuck you again sometime."

She fought valiantly against his thrusting in an effort to move her mouth back to Gabby's slit but found it difficult to do so. Harry slapped her on the arse. Hard.

"I don't think you're trying hard enough, whore," he said. She finally shoved against him making him grunt, but she found her way back to the sex of the girl lying beneath her. She still had to rely mostly on her fingers, however, as Harry's pounding away in her pussy prevented her from keeping her mouth over the Veela's slit. Still, Gabby, who had been pretty worked up all day and ready for a few good orgasms was already on her way to her second.

He suddenly pulled out of her—making her groan at the loss—and shoved her to the side, where she rolled on her back. He shifted over back between her legs, lifted her hips and shoved himself back into her. She, almost instinctively grabbed Gabby and pulled the girl over and positioned her so that she was straddling her face. Her tongue finding it easier to pleasure the girl in this position.

He found one of her cunt lips with his fingers and pinched it, making her squeal into the girls slit.

"Make her come, whore," he reminded.

Alicia's mouth was moving vigorously on the girls sex and her hands were roaming freely. She found the girl's nipples and, by sheer coincidence, Harry was sure, performed his twist-pull manoeuvre relatively well. She came into the Chaser's mouth.

Harry slapped her left breast and she came on his thrusting cock.

"That was one," he said. "Two more left, whore." She began finger fucking Gabby as fast as she could. He could tell that Gabby was still quite aroused after her last orgasm and was quickly approaching another. "Better hurry. I'm not sure how much longer I can last." He slapped her right breast, just to keep it even. Alicia cried out in pain and pleasure into Gabby's drooling slit.

She surprised him when she reached around and probed at Gabby's puckered little arsehole. Gabby groaned in obvious delight. The Gryffindor girl swiped her finger through the Veela's slippery fluids and returned to her back entrance. After a bit of pressure, her finger slid inside. Gabby was now being finger fucked in both her arse and cunt whilst having her pussy liked.

She grunted and came at the new sensation.

Harry decided it was time to race to the finish.

"That's two," he said as he lifted first one of Alicia's legs, then the other, placing them on his shoulders. He leaned forward until his face was nearly pressed up against his sex toy's back nearly folding his nubile house-mate in half. "Better hurry with that last one; I'm nearly there."

He proceeded to use his weight to slam down repeatedly into the girls abused channel, her grasping, spasming inner walls announcing the fact that she was nearing another climax. He moved his head a bit to the right and folded Alicia even more as he shifted Gabby a bit to the left. He now had an excellent view of his team-mate's ministrations.

He slammed into her as brutally as he could, each impact forcing her lower back and arse painfully into the unpadded stone floor. Alicia's eyes were glazed with lust. He reached around her right leg and between their connected bodies and found her clit.

"You're out of time," he said as his impending release began to overwhelm him. He pinched her clit as hard as he could, but it was so slippery with her spread fluids that he couldn't keep a hold on it and it squirted out from between his fingers.

Alicia stopped licking long enough to call out her pleasure as she came violently around Harry's thrusting, pounding cock. The extra stimulation from her pussy's muscular contractions shoved him over the edge as well and he grunted and came, spilling his seed deeply inside her. Alicia chose that moment to bite down on Gabby's clit, which, along with the pleasure flowing to her through the Desmi from Harry, was enough to send the girl into one last climax.

The trio was a pile of sweaty, naked, twitching flesh for several minutes as they all came down from their respective releases. Eventually, Harry tumbled to the right, Gabby to the left and a thoroughly abused and sated Alicia Spinnet lay panting between them.

"That was—excellent," Alicia panted. "I'm going to—have to—keep you on—retainer."

"I don't know," he said, sounding doubtful. He managed to lift his head and look at Gabby. "Where the whore's payment's worth my services?"

Gabby looked up and nodded with a smile on her face.

Alicia slapped him playfully.

"You know, Harry," she said smiling. "If I'm the one paying, it's really you that's the whore."

"I know," he admitted. "But it's less fun if I call myself a whore during sex."

She laughed. "True," she said.

Harry used his wand to clean them all up a bit and Harry dressed.

"You staying here?" he asked to unmoving girl.

"Still need a few minutes to recover," she said. "The only drawback to sex with you, Harry, is that I'd never survive it if we did it as much as I'd like."

"I could go easier on you," he offered.

She glared at him from the floor. "Don't you even think such a thing," she said.

He just laughed.

Harry and Gabby returned to Gryffindor tower where Gabby watched Ron beat Harry in two games of chess before Hermione returned from the library and the quartet headed down for dinner. While they were eating—with Hermione sitting uncomfortably close yet again—Harry noticed Ginny come in and sit down on the other side of the table from them, three seats down.

Once Gabby was finished eating, Harry surreptitiously whispered in her ear to tell Ginny to meet him in the first classroom on the left along the ground floor corridor. When she had delivered the message, Ginny caught his eye and nodded slightly. Harry looked to his right and saw Hermione look quickly away. Ginny, who also noticed that Hermione had seen them, quickly finished eating and left. As soon as she had, Hermione turned to him and started to say something, but stopped and thought for a moment before speaking.

"Harry," she said. "If you're not busy after dinner could we go somewhere and talk? Privately?"

"Sure," he said. Perhaps he'd be able to find the cause of Hermione's suspicious behaviour. "I've got something I have to do, but it shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes. I could go take care of it and meet you back here."

She said that was fine with her.

Harry, who had finished eating, excused himself and left the Hall. Down the corridor, in the first classroom on the left, he found Ginny waiting for him. Without even being asked, she opened her robes for him, displaying her nude body underneath. Her crimson pubic hair was now trimmed in a small triangle about two inches long, and one inch wide which pointed at her slit. Despite his having just shagged Alicia, he found himself growing aroused at the sight. He stepped up to her and slipped his hand between her legs to find her wet. He mentally cursed the fact that Hermione would be waiting for him; he would have loved to have been able to throw her down right there and fuck her hard and fast. He could tell that she was becoming more excited as his fingers caressed her delicate folds. With difficulty, he pulled his had from her.

"I have to go talk with Hermione," he said, "but go back up the common room and wait for me. I shouldn't be too long. Gabby," he added, turning to her, "go with her. Do what you can to keep her. . . ready."

Gabby grinned lasciviously and nodded.

"Yes, Master," Ginny said. She fastened her robes and Harry opened the door for them. He followed them out into the Entrance Hall to find Hermione standing there watching them with narrowed eyes. He walked over to her.

"What were you doing with Ginny?" she asked, trying a bit too hard to sound casual.

"She was—" He tried to thin of a convincing lie but decided on a partial truth. "—showing me something."

"Oh," she said with the same tone as her eyes followed the girl in question up the wide marble staircase. "And what would that be?"

"It's private," he said.

She looked at him sideways as though she didn't believe him. Or perhaps she was afraid to believe him.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

She looked around as though the Hall was filled with people who might be hanging on their every word when it was, in fact, quite empty.

"Not here," she said quietly. She took his arm in her hand and started leading him toward the stairs to the dungeons.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she led him down one corridor and then another, making seemingly random turns as though she were trying to get him lost.

"Somewhere we can talk privately," she answered offhandedly.

"Hermione," he said, "this castle has a hundred rooms where we could speak privately." Every step they took was a step farther from his bed and a night with a lovely, naked, willing, eager Ginny.

"We could be overheard," she responded, though it sounded a bit like she was making an excuse.

"That's what silencing charms are for."

She stopped for a moment and gave him an inscrutable look before moving again, still dragging him by the arm.

"We're almost there."

Two more turnings and half a length of corridor later, she stopped in front of a nondescript door which she opened, pulling him inside. As soon as he crossed the threshold, she closed the door, plunging them into darkness. In no time, she'd pulled out her wand and lit the bracketed torches lining the walls. What he saw before him left him speechless.

It was a room that would be at home in any muggle medieval era film. The room seemed straight out of the Spanish Inquisition and, despite Filch's penchant for going on about hanging students from the ceiling by their thumbs, he never would have expected a room like this to exist. There was a wall with several sets of chains that ended in shackles hanging from hooks. There was a large wooden cross, like a huge letter "X", with shackles at each of the ends of the beams, apparently for holding someone in a spread-eagle position. Near one wall, there was a waist-high table large enough for someone to lay on that had shackles at each of the four corners attached to short lengths of chain. In the far corner, there was a large metal frame with ropes attached to what looked like large pulleys. It had a large crank on the side and Harry realized with a jolt that it was a rack. In another corner, stood what Harry was sure was called an iron maiden.

"Hermione," he said, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable. "What is this place?"

"I'm not really sure," she said. "Muggle torture devices brought in centuries ago for study and forgotten, perhaps. Maybe it's the old detention room and Filch isn't exaggerating. I'm fairly certain it was used at one point because there are some really strong silencing Charms around the room." She looked around as though trying to see the room through Harry's eyes; clearly she'd been here before. "I come here to study sometimes. It's quiet and I've never seen anyone else down here. There's something comforting about it that I can't really describe."

Harry was at a loss for words. He couldn't imagine a room like this even existing at Hogwarts, much less Hermione finding it and making it her sanctuary.

"I thought we could talk here to ensure we're not overheard or interrupted," she said.

"All right," he said, still glancing around the room as little things kept catching his eye. "What did you want to talk about?"

Hermione motioned to a couple of straight-backed chairs that had shackles attached to the front two legs and the ends of the armrests. She sat in one that he assumed was her usual seat as it had a small table pulled close to it that was the perfect height for writing. Harry sat reluctantly but refused to let his arms or legs anywhere near the shackles for fear that they would magically close and refuse to release him. Hermione, he noticed, had her hands inside the open shackles and was absently fingering them as though she found them comforting. Harry suppressed a shiver. He looked up into Hermione's face and saw that she was frowning in thought.

"Hermione?" he asked gently.

Her eyes focused and shifted to him. She bit her lip for a moment before speaking, then she blurted a question that Harry should have been expecting but wasn't.

"Is Ginny your girlfriend?"

Harry tried to keep the emotion off his face, but feared some of it may have slipped through.

"What? No," he said, trying not to sound nervous. "Why would you think that?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "Something about you is different but I don't know what it is. I saw the two of you silently communicating in the Great Hall and then you go meet her in an empty classroom. Something's going on." Harry shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Do you fancy her?" she asked.

Harry gaped for a second. He simply wasn't prepared for her questions, though in retrospect, he should have been. People were bound to notice he and Ginny being a bit closer no matter how casual they were; she was his slave after all. But it had only been a day—not even twenty-four hours yet. He certainly hadn't been expecting anyone to notice anything different already.

His thoughts whirled around in his head. Should he lie? Without question—Hermione would never understand his having Ginny as a slave nor his relationship with Gabby. But what should he say? Ginny's just a friend? Should he say that he fancies her? Should he say they're just closer now? Or should he try to avoid the whole thing?

"I— We— You see—" He hated the fact that he was unprepared. "It's. . . complicated." He'd been using that word a lot lately.

"No, Harry it isn't," she said. "You either fancy her or you don't. Do you think that you might like to be her boyfriend one day?"

That was a question he could answer.

"No," he said. After all, he couldn't really ever be her boyfriend if he owned her.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

Another question he could answer. If only she would just keep asking these simple questions he would be all right, he thought.

"No, I don't," he said.

Hermione sighed with apparent relief. She stood, walked over to Harry and sat gently in his lap. "That's good," she said. He swallowed hard. Why hadn't he lied about having a girlfriend? Because she would want to know who it was and that was another question he wouldn't be able to answer. "Would you like one?" she asked huskily.

"Hermione?" He didn't really know what to say. He was out of his comfort zone, which was surprisingly large after the events of the last few days.

She tilted his head up with her finger on his chin and brought her lips to his. For a second, he was simply too shocked to move and then he found himself returning the kiss. It was gentle and sweet—the kind of kiss he'd expect Hermione to give. Not that he'd ever thought about kissing her, but now that he was he found he quite liked it.

Suddenly, he thought, "This is Hermione. I shouldn't be kissing her!" With reluctance, and obvious annoyance on her part, he broke the kiss.

"Hermione," he said, "this isn't right."

"Why not, Harry?" she asked.

"Because we're friends," he said.

She kissed him again and it took more force of will to end it.

"You don't think of me like that," he said.

"Yes, I do."

"I don't think of you like that," he said.

She ground herself down on him making it painfully clear that he was erect.

"I beg to differ," she said sweetly.

She tried to kiss him again but he pulled away before she could.

"Hermione," he said sharply. "This isn't you."

"It is me, Harry," she said.

"No," he insisted. "When did you start to feel this way?"

"A few days ago," she said. "You were so brave during the second task. . . I realized that I'm in love with you."

He lifted her off him and sat her in her chair.

"It's not real," he said. "We can't do this."

"It is real!" she said insistently. "We can, Harry. You and me."

He felt guilty for her acting like she was. He found the thread of magic that lead to her and tried to reduce it to less than normal but, as before, nothing happened. He tried focusing on Gabby, then Ginny, then random things—all to no avail.

"Don't you think I'm pretty?" she asked, sounding hurt.

"I do, Hermione," he said. "It's not that I don't think you're attractive. Only what you're feeling isn't real. You're not really attracted to me. You don't really fancy me."

"How can you know what I think and feel, Harry Potter?" she demanded.

He walked over to the table with the shackles on chains and leaned up against it.

"It's because you fancy someone else, isn't it?" she asked.

"No, it isn't," he said.

"Is it Ginny?" she asked. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No, I told you, she'll never be my girlfriend," he said.

"Then what?"

He sighed and his shoulders drooped. She was going to hate him for this.

"Hermione," he said carefully, "something happened when I rescued Fleur's sister in the second task. . ."

And he told her. He told her everything. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He knew she was judging him. All her efforts with spew and now he has a human slave—a girl that she considers a friend—and a subservient eight-year-old Veela sex toy.

By the time he'd finished, he'd closed his eyes in anticipation of being hexed until he was unrecognisable. But the hex didn't come. He opened his eyes to find Hermione standing right in front of him.

"I don't care," she said.

He couldn't possibly have heard her right.

"What?" he asked.

"I said, 'I don't care'," she said.

"You see? That's not you, Hermione," he said. "You've spent all year trying to fight for Elf rights and you say you don't care that I have a human slave?"

"Well, was it your fault?" she asked. She moved closer to him

"What does it matter whose fault it is?" he asked nearly ranting. "The Hermione I know would either be hexing me or not speaking to me and running for the nearest authority figure to get it all sorted."

"I'm telling you I don't care," she said simply. She moved again. "Harry, I can feel the attraction to you. It's not normal, it can't be. But it's awakened something inside me that I didn't even know was there. Something that might never have awakened if you hadn't formed this Desmi-thing with that girl."

"Gabby," he said automatically.

"I feel a need inside, Harry," she said silkily. She was so close now; they were nearly touching. "I need you Harry. I think I always have and just didn't know it."

"Hermione, I—"

She kissed him again. Her mouth was closed but there was passion in it all the same. He could feel her pressing against him and knew that she could feel his growing erection.

"Hermione, stop, please," he said after managing to break the kiss. "It's too risky. Ginny's my slave because she felt an attraction to me and I'd saved her life. You can't risk the same thing happening to you."

"You haven't bonded any of the other girls you've slept with," she said matter-of-factly. "How many have there been?" She was grinding against him. His arms had snaked around her and were holding her of their own volition.

"Six," he said. "No, seven."

"See," she said. "Nothing to worry about."

"Hermione—"

She silenced him with another kiss. His will was beginning to weaken.

Her lips parted and suddenly their tongues were caressing each other. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he had his tongue in Hermione Granger's mouth. She was the closest thing he had to a sister. This was wrong. It was so wrong on many different levels. But at the same time, he couldn't make himself stop. She had her hand on his erection through his robes and was fondling him gently. Her touch was wonderful.

He reached up and found her breasts through her robes. They had never been very large—looking small even on her smaller than average frame. It was something she'd always been self-conscious about. The fact that he knew that—the fact that she'd shared her disappointment about her small breasts with him, not because she'd been fishing for a complement, but because she'd felt comfortable sharing it with him—screamed at him that this was wrong, that he should turn around and run as far and as fast as he could away from her to let them both regain their heads. But still he massaged her breasts, making her nipples hard enough that he could feel them through her bra and robes.

She broke the kiss and he panted as he tried to regain his composure.

"Oh, Hermione," he said.

She laughed gently.

"Harry," she said lightly, "shut up and keep touching my boobs." She kissed his chin and moved her hand along his cock through two layers of cloth.

His resistance crumbled.

Suddenly, he was kissing down the side of her neck and she was moaning. He spun her around so that she was next to the table, then he lifted her up and sat her down, pushing her back and guiding her to lay in the centre. He climbed up after her and straddled her waist, raising her arms above her head. He kissed her neck again then moved to her jawline and then her cheek. She moaned from the sensations Harry was providing her.

He stretched her right arm over and locked the shackle around the wrist.

"Harry?" she said tentatively.

He bent his head low and whispered in her ear, "Trust me."

"Oh, God, Harry, yes!" she said.

He locked her other wrist in it's shackle.

He turned around so he could reach her feet, pulled off her shoes and socks and locked each foot in turn in it's own shackle, then he checked to make sure that each was securely locked and each chain was tight enough that her movement was severely restricted without cutting off blood supply.

He positioned himself so that he was sitting astride her waist and he took the front of her robes in his hands. He pulled, ripping all the fastenings apart and opening her robes down to the point where he sat. She moaned with desire at the same time he got his first look at her chest. Deciding he wanted to see it without the bra, he pulled out his wand, and with three well placed diffindo charms, he severed the offending garment's straps and the bit of material that joined the two cups together. He slowly slid the bra from around her revealing her naked chest; lying on her back like this with her arms stretched above her, she looked almost flat-chested. He took her left breast in his hand and kneaded the soft flesh; it was the softest breast he'd felt yet. He stroked her nipples, and she reacted by trying to force her chest into his hand.

A few more random severing charms and another jerk to rip all the remaining fastenings, and her robes pulled free, leaving her in only her knickers—small white cotton knickers that rode low on her hips. He stood up on the table between her legs and looked down at her. Aside from the apparently flat chest, she looked like an average 16 year old girl, development-wise—narrow waist, flared hips, well defined legs, taught stomach. She gazed up at him lustfully.

Two more severing charms and her knickers came free. His first look at her cunt, however, was impeded by an untamed mass of brown hair. She looked almost like Ginny had the night before. He smirked at her.

"What's the shaving charm?" he asked innocently.

"A flick and then aim at what you want to shave and say scaberio ." she answered.

He did so, aiming at her crotch. He must have overdone it a bit as all her pubic hair vanished, leaving her mound and the surrounding flesh completely bald. Oh, well, now he could at least see her delightful little slit. She moaned and wiggled her hips at the new sensation.

Harry hopped down from the table and found her discarded robes. He tore a strip from the ruined garment and, fighting with her hair a bit as it seemed to want to be in the way, tied the cloth around her eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she groaned. "What are you going to do."

"You'll see," he said evilly into her ear and then added somewhat dramatically, "Oh, I guess you won't."

"Harry," she whinged.

He found an old discarded quill with a broken nib; likely one of hers. He wondered for a moment why the house elves hadn't picked it up yet, but no matter.

He held the nib end and gently brought the feather in contact with her skin on the side of her chest, just below her ribs. She gasped and shifted as much as she could to get more contact, but, as it was a feather, her moving didn't accomplish much. He dragged the quill to the middle of her torso and then swirled it down around her navel, back up between her breasts and circled one of them. In no time, she was gasping and panting with the slight contact.

"Oh, God, Harry," she breathed. "That feels so good." The last two words were drawn out in a moan of pleasure.

He drew the feather up, over her collarbone, along her neck, across her cheek, over her nose and down past her lips, chin and back down her neck. She was whimpering now.

He pulled the feather off her skin and she moaned at its loss. He swiped it over her left thigh, then pulled in away again for several seconds. Just as she started moving her head around as though looking for it, he ran it up her right arm. She shivered and mewled. Over and over, he would swish and swirl the feather over different body parts and then remove it for a random length of time. As he did so, he walked around to the other side of the table where he found a small cabinet with three drawers. He carefully opened the top one to reveal several interesting items. He rummaged around looking for something he could use. The first thing he found that interested him was a leather handle with several thin, soft leather strips that hung from one end of it that were about 45 centimetres in length. He reckoned it was a whip, though he had no intentions of whiping Hermione with it. He turned away from the chest and back the the shackled girl just as she was beginning to wonder where the next bit of sensation was going to come from.

He bent over her right breast and gently blew on it causing her to shudder. He then brought the whip up to her belly, just above her bellybutton and allowed some of the straps to just dangle, barely touching the skin. She instinctively raised her head at the new feeling as if to see what it was, but, still being blindfolded, she laid her head back on the table.

Harry started moving the handle of the whip in small circular patterns, letting the weight and momentum of the leather straps dance randomly across her skin. She was moaning again and beginning to writhe, unable to keep from pulling at her shackles.

"Harry, please," she pleaded. "I can't take this any more. I need you, Harry. Please. Make love to me."

"Not just yet," he said calmly, though watching Hermione as she writhed under his ministrations was driving him insane with lust. It was like she was a rope in a tug of war, with the shackles on one side and her own arousal on the other. "There's still quite a lot of this you can take." She moaned in response.

For the next several minutes, he did with the whip what he'd done with the quill, trail it all over her body, avoiding her most sensitive areas for the most part, stimulating her to the point that she was nearly vibrating with arousal. With the shackles keeping her legs apart, however, she had no way to stimulate herself the rest of the way to orgasm.

He would occasionally switch back to the quill, sometimes he would drag his fingers across her skin, and other times, he would blow on her, providing her with just the barest stimulation.

She was making noises constantly now—a sort of whimpering-mewling-moaning noise that, for the most part, emanated from the back of her throat. Her head was tilted back as far as she could get it and she would convulsively pull on the shackles.

And she would beg. She was begging non-stop for him to touch her—finger her—make love to her. She didn't seem to care, as long as he would help her orgasm.

Finally, he drew the whip down along the side of her hip, over her thigh, and up between her legs, allowing it to slide over her pussy.

Her entire body tensed so much that Harry though he could have pulled the table out from under her and she wouldn't have dropped so much as a millimetre. Every muscle in her body seemed to contract all at once. The sound, she made was by no means a conscious effort, but simply a kind of groaning scream caused by the sudden contraction of her diaphragm forcing all the air in her lungs past tightly constricted vocal cords.

He backed off and watched her orgasm proceed. It was nearly a minute before her muscles relaxed enough for her to draw a painfully gasping breath. Then she began spasming violently, her body trying to fold her in half even as the shackles kept her locked to the table. She tried even more forcefully to move her thighs together in order to provide her with more stimulation to keep her orgasm going, but the chains were just too short to allow it. He knew that without more stimulation than he gave her, her orgasm would only serve to take the edge off, but by no means satisfy her.

She was panting from effort and pleasure when she came down enough to be coherent.

"Harry, please," she begged. "I need you, please!"

In response, he dragged the strands of the whip from her navel to her chest and started doing lazy figure-eights around her breasts.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"I need you, Harry," she said, already starting to writhe in need again.

"Tell me exactly what you want, Hermione."

She panted a few times. "I want you to make love to me," she answered.

"No," he said, "describe what you want me to do to you."

"I—" She hesitated. "I can't, Harry. Please. Just make love to me."

"Not until you describe what you want me to do. I want to hear you say it."

She tried saying more than once but faltered each time. With the hand that wasn't brushing the whip around the girl's tits, he started unfastening his robes.

"Come along now, Hermione," he said. "Surely a smart girl like you knows how it's done. I'm sure you've studied it in detail at some point." As flushed as she was from her arousal and partial orgasm, she actually managed to blush at that. "Aha! You have studied it!" he proclaimed. "So, tell me— Describe to me what you want me to do to you."

"I want," she said carefully, "you to put your penis in my vagina and have intercourse with me."

He pulled the whip away as if to punish her for such a clinical answer, but it was really an excuse to remove his robes. He dropped his boxers at the same time.

"Really, Hermione," he said. "Do you have to be so. . . technical ?"

"It's what I want," she whinged. "You said you'd do it if I said it."

"If you're going to be so technical about it, we could have had 'intercourse' quite quickly and been done with all this 'unpleasantness'." He returned to gliding the leather strips of the whip around her exposed skin. "There would have been no need for me to bind you to a table, blindfold you, do what I've been doing to you for more than half an hour, if only I'd known that all you wanted was a quick bit of 'intercourse'."

"What do you want from me, Harry?" she asked

"Tell me what you want, and don't be so clinical about it. Be vulgar. Be dirty."

There was a pause.

"I can't, Harry," she whinged.

He removed the whip again. "Very well," he said sadly. "Give me a minute and I'll unlock you and we can get dressed and go back up to—"

"No!" she cried.

"No?" he asked. "No, what?"

"Don't unlock me, Harry, please," she begged. "I need you to make love to me."

"Then ask for it," he said, "like you mean it. Tell me what you want me to do and you'd better use at least three curse-words." He returned the whip to her skin.

She breathed rapidly as though steeling herself for something horrible.

"I want you," she said haltingly, "to put your. . . willy— "

"No, you can do better than that."

". . .to put your—" There was a long pause. "—c—co—ock in my. . . fanny?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Come on Hermione. 'I want you to put your cock in my cunt and fuck me.' Just say it. It's easy." It might have been easy for Harry, but Hermione twitched with each dirty word almost as much as most witches and wizard did when he used the name Voldemort.

"Any time, Hermione," he prodded.

Again, she steeled herself.

"I w—want you to put your c—cock in my cunt and f—f—uck me," she managed. He wasn't sure if her stammering was from her perceived impropriety of her words or from the sensations she was receiving from his teasing her with the whip. She was starting to writhe again.

He climbed up onto the table between her legs and bent over her. He rubbed his cock up and down her slit. Despite her obvious arousal and her partial orgasm, she was barely wet. He guessed that, like breast size, the amount of fluid a girl can make varied from person to person. He hoped that she was wet enough, he didn't want to hurt her.

"Oh, yes, Harry," she moaned. "Take me."

He pushed and the head of his cock slid in.

"Ungh!" she grunted. "Oh, God, Harry! You're inside me!"

"That's just the tip, Hermione," he said. "There's still a lot more outside than in."

"Really?" she asked, sounding almost nervous. "It feels like it's all the way in."

He laughed a bit.

"You've never put something up your cunt, have you?"

"No," she admitted.

He pushed.

"Ow!" she cried. "That hurts!"

He'd hit her maidenhead.

"You're still a virgin, Hermione," he said. "It's going to hurt the first time."

"I know," she said. "You have to break my hymen."

"Clinical," he said. "Are you ready?"

"I think so," she said.

Instead of pushing in any farther, he reached down and stroked her clit with the pad of his thumb. She was moaning loudly in no time.

"Come for me," he said. "Come for me and I'll fuck you."

He stroked a few more times and she was writhing beneath him making "Ooh, ooh, ooh" sounds. He leaned forward and blew on her nipples.

She squealed and came around the head of his cock. After her cunt had spasmed around him a few times, he pushed in, tearing her cherry away.

"Ow, ow, ow!" she cried out in rhythm with her contracting pussy. "God, Harry, that hurt more than I thought it would."

Her orgasm died down quite rapidly after that and it was over a minute before she told him it was OK to move. When he did push forward again, he found the going a lot easier, though he found Hermione to be quite tight, nearly as tight as Vicky had been.

"Oh, stop, Harry," she said as he bottomed out in her. "Wait. I need a moment."

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I think so," she said. "I know it's supposed to hurt the first time, but that was more than I expected."

He found the whip lying next to her and picked it up, returning to the stimulation that had had her so worked up in the first place. From his angle above her, however, he found it difficult to do the same things with it and, unfortunately, he'd left the quill sitting on top of the cabinet.

His attentions did start to have the right effect, though. She was clearly becoming aroused again and starting to moan. When she started automatically pushing her hips up against him a bit, he decided that she was ready. He pulled out and pushed back in. She moaned but he wasn't sure it was entirely in pleasure.

"Go slow, please, Harry," she said. "It still stings a bit."

He obliged her. He had discarded the whip when he'd started fucking her in earnest but he began gently sliding his fingers around on her skin. He found her nipples more than once and she was soon encouraging him to increase the pace, which he did with delight. He was now receiving enough stimulation to start him on the course to his own orgasm.

Soon, they were thrusting against each other, Hermione still with some obvious discomfort, but with enough pleasure that she seemed to be able to ignore it for the most part aside from the occasional twinge or cry of "Ow".

With a bit of contortion, Harry was able to lower his head and take one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasped in surprise and pleasure. She moaned as he flicked it with his tongue and whimpered as he gently bit it. As he repeated the process with it's opposite, she was driven right to the precipice of her climax.

Harry was nearing his too; he could feel the pressure building up inside him and his cock was throbbing.

"Oh, God, Harry," groaned Hermione. "I'm so close. Fuck me!" she said unabashedly. "Fuck me! Make me come!"

The sound of proper, rule-abiding Hermione using such words so shamelessly, made Harry's cock twitch inside her. She must have been able to feel it because she make a little "Ooh" sound.

He leant forward and latched his lips onto her neck and licked and nibbled and sucked.

Hermione gasped again and he felt her cunt contract. She cried out as she came around his thrusting cock. The added sensation of her spasming pussy sent Harry over the edge as well. He'd been worked up quite a lot by what he'd done with Hermione and his orgasm was a large one—he felt as if he'd never stop coming in her grasping, clenching channel.

"Ooohhh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried. "Fuck me, Harry. Come in me!"

He thrust deep inside her as his cock spewed his thick, sticky seed up against her womb.

Finally spent, he collapsed down, not quite resting on her, but near enough, supporting his upper body on his elbows.

As the euphoria of his climax passed, he became aware of a blue-white glow surrounding them.

"Well, shit," he thought. He couldn't even tell himself that he hadn't been expecting it. He'd gone into this with his eyes open and he'd let it happen.

He reached up to pull Hermione's blindfold off, but as soon as he touched it, there was a flare of magic and it disappeared. Her bright brown eyes looked up at him.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," she said with something approaching reverence.

He pushed himself up and pulled his softening cock out of her deflowered cunt. A stream of semen, stained dark pink with her virginal blood, poured out of her used hole, ran down the crack of her arse and puddled beneath her. She seemed to feel this because when it happened, she raised her head as much as she could and looked towards her sex. A second later, there was a brief flash of light and the evidence of their union was gone.

He walked around the table, tapping the shackles with his wand, opening them. She got to her feet and retrieved her clothing from the floor. There were two items on the floor where she had discarded her clothing earlier. A leather collar with a silver-white medallion embossed with the now familiar "P" and a set of diaphanous blue robes that were clearly not meant to hide her nudity at all.

The moment she was dressed, with the collar fastened around her lovely neck and the robes doing little to obscure her form, she retrieved his boxers and held them out.

"Would my Master like me to help him dress?" she asked.

He took the garment from him and put them on without saying anything.

She gathered his robes and held them out for him to slip into. So, numbly, he did. She quickly and deftly fastened them up for him. Then she stood in front of him in deference and obedience.

"Is there anything that you require, Master?" she asked.

"No," he said. Then he thought of what Gabby had asked Ginny the night before. "Yes. What can you tell me of your position?"

"I am to service you, Master," she said. "I am to see to your comfort, provide your meals, keep your living area tidy, ensure that your every need is taken care of. Should you so desire, I will even bathe and dress you."

"You're a house elf!" he exclaimed.

"No, Master," she said. "I am still human and I, unlike a house elf, cannot be granted freedom. I do, however, perform a similar function."

The irony was certainly not lost on Harry.

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .An Apology

Harry stared at Hermione for a moment; she was quite lovely but also quite naked—or near enough—and they were down in the dungeons, eight floors below the entrance to Gryffindor tower. There was no way that she wouldn't be noticed on the long walk back, not to mention the fact that the common room was likely to be quite crowded at this time of the evening.

"Hermione," he said carefully, "is there some way you can make your. . . uniform more like a, er, uniform?"

Hermione looked down at herself as if seeing herself for the first time.

"Don't worry, Master," she said. "Few will pay me any attention and those that do will see nothing out of the ordinary."

Harry sighed. Seeing no other alternative, they left the room and started heading back up to the tower with Hermione keeping pace at his side, a half step behind him. They passed less that half a dozen people on their way, only two of which seemed to notice his newly acquired shadow; they gave her quick looks but their eyes didn't linger at all.

As they walked, Harry went over the events that had taken place down in that room over and over again in his mind. What the hell had he been thinking? He'd already condemned one of his friends to a life of slavery—which showed him it was possible—and now he'd done it again, despite the fact that he knew he was taking a huge risk when he had given in and fucked her.

On the other hand, he told himself, he had, in fact, done exactly that: given in. She had asked for sex—nearly begged for it—and refused to take 'no' for an answer. And he had been horny—actually, he still was—and she'd seduced him. How was he supposed to stop her?

Yet, he told himself, she had not been aware of the possible consequences, had she? Or had she? Hadn't he told her it could happen? He did, didn't he? Had she said she didn't care? He couldn't remember now—the nearly hour long session of sex and subsequent bonding, had served to riddle his memory of the time between dinner and locking Hermione to that table with so many holes he couldn't be sure one way or the other.

Silently, he railed against the carelessness and lack of foresight that he'd demonstrated in allowing her to have her way. Perhaps he would just have to 'keep it in his trousers' where girls outside the bond were concerned. Surely Gabby, Ginny and Hermione would be enough to keep him satisfied.

Right?

Who was he kidding? Ginny might not say anything about it, but Gabby would be very vocal on the subject. Hermione. . . well, he just didn't know what she would want—he didn't even know what kind of Desmi he had with her. Alicia would be most disappointed to learn that they wouldn't be shagging any more. And what of Cloyssa and Vicky who'd both either hinted or said outright that they wanted another go?

By the time the pair had returned to the tower, he was so conflicted that he didn't know what to think any more. Hermione followed him as he climbed through the portrait hole but was forced to stop quickly when he was brought up short. Gabby sat next to Ginny, who was seated at a table with homework spread around it. Ginny, however, was paying her homework absolutely no attention whatever. One or two of the fastenings of Ginny's robes were undone creating a gap just large enough for Gabby's hand. She was clearly stroking the redheads pussy as Ginny's eyes were heavily lidded and she was breathing rapidly and biting her lip. Gabby noticed the pair enter and her eyes widened at Hermione's state of dress.

With a quick gesture, he instructed Gabby to follow him and for Ginny to remain. He crossed to the stairs to the boys' dorms and headed up to the door marked "Fourth Years", trailing two of his three girls.

"OK," he said as he closed the door behind them. "First things first. Hermione?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

He handed her the Veela Desmi book. "Take this back to your dorm and read this. I want all important information about your Desmi and all of it in general by tomorrow."

"Yes, Master," she said again. She bowed a bit as she took the book and left.

"Gabby," he said after the door had shut behind Hermione. "Go down, tell Ginny to go to her dorm and strip, then come up here. I want her in my bed, naked in less than five minutes. I need to work off some. . . frustration."

Gabby grinned ferally. "Yes, Master," she said excitedly.

Harry concentrated for a moment, making Ginny unnoticeable, then he pulled off his clothes and climbed into bed, charming the curtains to stop any outgoing sound. Two minutes later, he was casually stroking his erection when he heard the door open and close again followed by a very evil giggle from Gabby.

The curtains parted and the two girls joined him in his bed. Ginny had been clearly worked up by Gabby's ministrations down in the common room as she was quite wet, her mostly bald pussy and inner thighs coated in her secretions. He gave her no more time to prepare.

"Lay back, slut," he commanded. She did so and he spread her legs and got between them. He took himself in hand and rubbed up and down her dripping slit, coating his cock with her fluids. With no other warning, he placed himself at her entrance and thrust, burying himself completely inside her. She grunted.

"You like that, don't you slut?" he asked as he began to piston in and out of her.

"Yes, Master," she said as she pushed back up to meet his inward strokes. "Use me, Master. Let me please you."

Gabby kneed herself over next to Ginny and bent over, grabbing one of Ginny's jiggling breasts in her mouth and sucking on the nipple. Ginny moaned and arched her back, pressing her chest up to the younger girl's mouth. Harry supported his upper body with one hand and seized Ginny's other breast with his other, kneading the firm yet pliant flesh. Another moan escaped Ginny's lips.

The squelching sound of Ginny's overly wet sex filled the small area bordered by the curtains and Harry groaned as her cunt gripped and massaged his cock.

Harry swapped hands and found Gabby's slippery pussy with his now free hand. Gabby moaned into Ginny's tit as he glided his fingers up and down her delicate folds. Once he'd coated his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean and Gabby whimpered in loss as he did so, stopping only when he'd returned his hand to her sex.

"God, Gabby," he said. "You taste so good."

Gabby looked up from the breast to which she was currently paying homage.

"Thank you, Master," she said impishly. "Are you ever going to eat me out, Master?"

Harry realized that he still had yet to do so and greatly wanted to. Now was not the time though—when he finally did so, he wanted to devote the time to pleasing her—now he just wanted to be selfish and please himself.

"Soon, my sweet," he said. "Soon, I'll go down on you and please you until I drown in your fluids."

"Oh, yes, Master," she groaned.

"For now, though, why don't you make slut do it?"

Gabby seemed to like this idea. She got up on her knees and straddled Ginny's face.

"Lick me, slut," she said.

Ginny seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"Do it," Harry ordered and watched as her tongue snaked out and licked through the Veela's folds. "In fact, for the rest of the night, you are to do anything that Gabby commands you to do. And you will call her 'Mistress'. Understood?"

She paused in her licking only long enough to say, "Yes, Master."

Gabby ground her cunt into Ginny's face.

"That's it," she said. "Make me come, slut."

Harry heard, "Yes, Mistress," from between Gabby's legs, spurring him to thrust faster and harder into Ginny's hot, wet, flesh.

"Use your fingers, slut," said Gabby. "Put some effort into it."

Ginny's hands moved up to Gabby's folds accompanied by another "Yes, Mistress."

Still, Harry pounded into Ginny's recently deflowered pussy working out his frustrations and driving himself towards orgasm, caring little if Ginny felt any pleasure from his actions or not, though, from the way she was moaning into Gabby's slit as she licked and fingered, she was either experiencing quite a bit of pleasure or she was a good actress.

"Oh, yes," moaned Gabby. "Pinch my nipples, slut. Do I have to give you instructions?"

Ginny reached up and did as she was ordered, with another muffled "Yes, Mistress."

Harry could feel Gabby's pleasure trickling through the bond as Ginny inserted first one finger, then two, then three into the young Veela's hot cunt.

Ginny's own cunt was twitching mightily around Harry's thrusting cock as she had been quite worked up by the fingering she'd received down in the common room.

"Oh, yes," Gabby said, throwing her head back as visible tremors of bliss travelled up and down her nude form.

Ginny, still pistoning her fingers into the girls pussy, removed her tongue long enough to say, "Please, Master. May I come?"

Harry waited a few moments as though thinking about it before he answered, "Not just yet, slut."

Ginny whimpered a bit in response but dutifully returned her attentions and her mouth to the dripping sex above her.

"Ooooh," Gabby moaned as a particularly visible shiver ran up and down her spine. "Faster, slut. Deeper, deeper. Can't you go any deeper?" Ginny added a fourth finger allowing her to fit most of her hand inside the girl, stopped only by her thumb. Harry was surprised it fit, but then again, with Gabby's Veela nature and her control over her body, he reckoned he shouldn't have been.

Gabby threw her head again back and cried out as she came on the redhead's fingers. "Unh, unh, unh," she chanted in time with her orgasm as she ground down on her lover's face.

Harry, already quite worked up himself, had to fight for control of his own orgasm; he didn't want to come just yet and it was not an easy thing to do with the delightful combination of Ginny's hot, moist, grasping cunt and the pleasure flowing over the Desmi from Gabby. He actually stopped his movements to prevent himself from tipping over the edge. He reached down and flicked over the little mubbin that was Ginny's clit. She violently shoved her head back into the pillow and panted, "Please, Master. Please let your slut come."

Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip; in a desperate need to orgasm, her cunt was doing amazing things to his cock even as he held still in her overstimulated sex.

"Not right now, slut," he said.

Apparently realizing that Harry was no longer thrusting, Gabby leant back, resting her upper back and head on his chest. Ginny's four fingers were still working their way in and out of the girls widely distended channel.

"Deeper, slut," she said, huskily. "See if you can get it all in."

Harry gulped and his cock twitched. Surely, even with a Veela's body and abilities, an eight-year-old girl couldn't be capable of handling what she seemed to be asking for, could she? He watched in erotic fascination as Ginny pulled her hand out and tucked her thumb into her palm, bringing her other fingers into a kind of point. She pressed in, twisting back and forth as she tried to work the hand into the girl. Harry's cock twitched and Ginny's cunt spasmed.

There was a moment when Ginny's knuckles reached the very entrance of the sex toy and seemed to refuse to go any farther. Harry was on the point of telling them to stop so that Gabby wouldn't be hurt, when, with an almost audible pop, Ginny's hand slipped in. Gabby's head pushed back against Harry's chest as she cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Ginny immediately began working her hand in and out of the girl's obscenely stretched sex.

Gabby made a funny little "Hugnh" noised in the back of her throat and came around Ginny's hand. With her head tilted back, Harry leaned down and brought his lips to hers, kissing the girl even as her orgasm washed over her, drenching Ginny's arm with her juices. Harry's and Gabby's tongues duelled and danced, a novel experience considering the upside-down nature of their kiss.

And still, Ginny's cunt was pulsing and massaging and spasming with an ever increasing need for release, edging Harry towards his.

"Oh please—Master," she panted, breathing hard as she was racked by random, almost violent contractions of muscles. "May—I come, Master. Please—may I—come?"

Harry ignored her request and kept kissing Gabby and allowing Ginny's wildly convulsing channel to drive him right to the brink.

He opened his eyes, having closed them when he'd kissed Gabby and the first thing he saw was Ginny's arm driving into the girl.

He grunted and came, spraying Ginny's still twitching cunt with his seed.

Gabby, who was only just coming down from her last orgasm, exploded into yet another one, feeding Harry even more pleasure and extending his own, which in turn extended Gabby's.

Ginny, who could feel pleasure from Harry's orgasm tensed with the undeniable need to climax.

"Oh, Master, please!" she begged. "Your slut needs to come."

Again, Harry ignored her and she simply whimpered as it became obvious that he still had no intention of allowing her any release.

Harry fell to the side and lay on his back. Gabby, seeing his slowly deflating cock and the fluids covering it, detached herself from Ginny's fist and took him in her mouth, licking and cleaning.

Harry looked over at Ginny and saw her masturbating herself, in the vain attempt to come. The sight of the girl manipulating her own sex—her fingers glistening with a mixture of her lubrication and his sperm—along with the thought of denying her an orgasm and the feeling of Gabby's mouth and tongue served to keep him from ever actually going soft.

Once he was hard again, he had Ginny straddle his waist, facing away from him. He grabbed her hips, lifted her up and settled her back down on his cock, letting her sink all the way down before lifting her up and off. He then positioned himself at her tight little arsehole and pushed. Knowing what her Master wanted of her, she relaxed her sphincter, allowing him to slip through and plunge all the way inside with a grunt as he bottomed out in her.

Harry then pulled her back so that she was lying on top of him and began thrusting into her backside. Gabby nearly jumped between two sets of legs and began diligently trying to suck all of Harry's come from Ginny's overstimulated cunt. The new sensation of the blond's lips and tongue on her most sensitive flesh drove poor Ginny to new heights of desire and need.

"Master, come," she said incoherently. "I need— I— please— May come?"

Harry moved one guiding hand away from her hips long enough to shift some of her crimson locks away from her ear and out of his way. He brought his head up and nibbled her lobe for a moment before whispering, "Not just yet, love."

Ginny stifled what appeared to be a scream of frustration. Harry knew she was beyond anything she had felt before. The human body simply wasn't made to be so aroused and yet denied release. He could feel her entire body as it lay against him, crying out for an orgasm that it could simply no longer provide on it's own. It needed it's Master's permission and without it, it simply continued building—ramping up pleasure—trying to find that now elusive climax. Harry considered seeing how long she could go without—could he order her to masturbate all night while he slept so that she was unable, not only to come but to even ask for it? Was there a point where she could be so overstimulated that it might hurt her? She already seemed to be having difficulty breathing; if he let it go indefinitely, could she be harmed? Or would she simply pass out and come down from her arousal?

He slammed into her arse even as it clenched and spasmed and convulsed with the rest of the muscles in her body. Even though he'd just come a few minutes earlier, he was soon well on his way to his next.

From between Ginny's legs, came the sucking, slurping sounds of Gabby carefully licking up all of the second-hand semen and first-hand fluids flowing from the teen's core.

"Do you like that, slut?" he asked her, raising his voice a bit in order to be heard above Ginny's now nearly constant moaning and mewling. "Do you like what your Mistress is doing to you?

"Y—yes Mas—ter," she managed between pants, spasms and impacts of his groin with her arse.

"Do you?" he taunted. "Do you like the feeling of her tongue on your sex?"

"Yes—ss Ma—aste—er," she said.

"Do you like the fact that I'm not allowing you to come?" he asked.

She took a moment to answer as though she was thinking hard about what exactly to say. Perhaps she didn't want to risk him denying her orgasm permanently if she told him she didn't like what he was doing to her. In the end, however, she was compelled by her status as his slave to tell him the truth.

"N—no, Mas—ster—r," she admitted. "I d—don't li—ike it. I nee—eed to c—come."

He continued pounding her arse as Gabby licked her sloppy, wet cunt.

"If you're very lucky, slut," he said, "I just might let you."

She groaned

The contractions of the muscles in her colon were driving him mad. Part of him was shocked that he could be on the edge of orgasm so soon after having one, but then again, the fact that he was a teenager coupled with the magic of the bond had seriously shortened his recovery time.

He heard Ginny cry out in a mixture of pleasure and surprise and moved his head over far enough to see the way Gabby was moving her arm. It appeared that Gabby was either fingering Ginny or simply using her fingers to scrape the last of his come from her pussy.

He picked up the pace, using his hands to guide her hips and slamming the two of them together with a rhythm that spoke directly to his cock and bollocks.

And talking of bollocks, he felt a hand begin to grasp his and gently massage them. The added pleasure was quickly driving him to the point of no return.

The sounds of mewling and grunting and lapping and slapping flesh was interrupted by Ginny asking yet again if she could come. She was so incoherent by this point that if he hadn't known what she wanted even before she asked, he would have had to ask her to repeat it as the only word he could even partially make out was "Master".

"You want to come, slut?" he asked, panting with effort and his own need to orgasm.

She said nothing, merely nodding haltingly.

"You want me to allow you release?"

This time she managed a shaky "Yes".

He pounded into her back hole a few more times before he said, "Not just yet, slut."

She convulsed once and appeared to stop breathing for a moment before she gasped and began making a noise that was somewhere between a whine, a whimper and a groan. She went nearly limp, almost turning to a jelly on top of him. It seemed her body was starting to give up hope of coming.

Something inside him responded to that reaction and he tipped over the edge, painting the inside of her arse with his sticky seed, jet after jet shooting from the head of his cock and further lubricating their union. A few more thrusts and they both stopped, her still lying on top of him as though she had no ability to support herself.

After a couple of minutes, his cock, now nearly sore from the use it had seen that day, softened enough to slip out of her arse and flop down. Gabby was waiting for it though, and gently took it in her mouth, carefully cleaning it of the evidence of their encounter. A few more minutes and Harry helped Gabby move the limp, but still whimpering and twitching Ginny off of him and onto the bed next to him.

He looked at her properly. Even just lying there, her body's convulsions and twitches gave her the appearance that she was fucking some invisible someone. He thought he'd never seen anything quite as disturbing and sexy at the same time as her form at that moment. She was coated in a layer of sweat that was beading up and running off her. As her body twitched it made her small breasts, topped with nipples that looked as hard as rocks, jiggle erotically to Harry.

He reached out and gently cupped one of her tits. She threw her head back and opened her mouth in what looked like a silent scream. In actually, she was still whimpering and mewling and moaning so it was not actually silent. As she relaxed again—as much as she could relax in her current hyper-aroused state—he asked, "Do you like that?"

She didn't speak, but instead nodded for a moment, then shook her head. He wasn't sure if she meant that she did and didn't like it, or if she liked it so much it hurt, or if she was just so out of it she didn't understand the question or if she meant something else entirely. What he was sure of, however was that seeing this girl like this so completely over-aroused yet under his control did something to him that he didn't really understand himself. It spoke to something deep within him—something primal—and he found himself fighting to keep from jumping on her and fucking her until he broke her. Of course, Gabby wasn't helping at the moment.

Gabby had long since finished cleaning his cock and was simply giving the flaccid penis a gentle caressing with her mouth and tongue. The sensations he was receiving from that in combination with his desire to thoroughly abuse Ginny was causing him to harden again.

He didn't think he could manage to actually fuck her though. He was exhausted and his cock, despite the magic that allowed him to fuck so often and with so little time in between was simply not ready for another pounding. He also didn't really want to break her. He liked Ginny and now with the Desmi he shared with her, he was developing deeper feelings for her, much the same as he had with Gabby. The feelings he felt for Ginny were different, however; they were more feelings of wanting to control and possess her—wanting to use her for his own desires—than the feelings he felt for Gabby. Yet in it's own way it was a kind of love, since he knew that, not only would the Desmi cause her to crave that kind of treatment, but he knew that deep down, somewhere in her psyche, she'd wanted those things even before she'd first come to his bed.

Harry broke off his musings when he could no longer ignore his erection. He positioned himself between Ginny's spread legs and penetrated her. Then, after bringing his legs around so that she was lying back between them, Harry had Gabby help him bring Ginny up so that she was sitting facing him with his cock inside her with their hips pulled as close together as they could be; he was buried in her to the hilt. He wrapped his arms around her and gave Gabby one simple instruction. The Veela worked her hand between them and down to Ginny's sex and began gently massaging.

Ginny—still twitching and convulsing and practically vibrating in Harry's arms, yet somehow at the same time as limp as putty—reacted immediately. Her eyes snapped open and she met Harry's gaze with a piteous look that told him she didn't know how much more she could take. She opened her mouth and tried to speak but her voice broke and scratched as though she hadn't had anything to drink in a couple of days.

"Master," she finally managed to say with a gravelly voice. "Will you allow your slut to come?"

Harry held her tightly, expecting her to be quite violent if unintentionally so.

"Yes, you may," he said simply.

She lurched forward against him shoving her breasts, topped with their rock hard nipples, into his chest. Nearly every muscle in her body seemed to tense equally, locking her in position. She cried out with the most primal sounding half grunt, half scream that he'd ever heard. The only muscles in her body that hadn't seemed to lock completely taught were those in her groin. Harry's cock was on the receiving end of the most perfect massage he had ever felt. Her cunt was spasming and contracting and clenching around him in rhythmic patterns that defied all sense of what should be possible, setting him on what would likely be a very short road to another orgasm.

Gabby continued to gently caress Ginny's throbbing sex, extending the redhead's climax past the one minute mark. Ginny had yet to breath in, however and the lack of oxygen finally caused her to pass out. Her cunt did not stop performing it's delightful little dance, however; she was still coming, even while unconscious. She was breathing again, though.

"Gabby," Harry said, "get my wand, quick."

In a flash, she'd grabbed his wand from his night stand and was back in position with her hand on Ginny's sex.

" Rennervate, " Harry said.

Ginny's eyes snapped open and she locked gazes with Harry again. Though her cunt was still spasming, it had lost it's urgency; her orgasm had died when he'd revived her. She was still on the edge, however.

"Master," she said. "May I come?"

"Yes," he said simply.

The process repeated, driving Harry even closer. This time, Harry rennervated her just as she passed out, and it was enough to get her to take a breath, but also enough to stop her orgasm again.

Again she asked and again he gave his permission.

Twelve times she came and passed out, until finally her orgasm was not so overpowering that she couldn't breathe and she just kept on coming. She clung to him as much as her weakened arms would allow and the pulsing, rippling inner walls of her sex brought Harry right to the brink of orgasm, then pushed him over. His balls tightened and he spent himself inside her, coating the entrance to her womb with his come. Less than a minute later, her orgasm finally slowed and ended as well.

He held her for a while as she relaxed in his arms and caught her breath

He shifted her legs and pulled her with him as he laid back on the bed, still buried deep in her tender flesh. The pair fell asleep almost immediately, with Gabby following them soon thereafter. None of them cared that it was not yet half nine.

Harry woke early the next morning. At some point during the night, he had become hard again and, never having slipped out of Ginny, had begun fucking her in his sleep. She had been fucking him right back in her sleep as well, waking shortly after he did. Both woke on the brink of orgasm.

"Master," she said half sleepily and half lustfully, "may I come?"

"Yes, slut," he said.

She moaned and came around his gently thrusting cock. The feeling of her rippling, grasping cunt, tipped him over the edge as well. His climax washed over him leaving him feeling very relaxed. Ginny appeared to have had a similar reaction to her own. He looked over to see Gabby watching them with a smile as she gently fingered herself.

Not two minutes later, Hermione pulled the curtain back far enough to reveal herself to them. She was again wearing the see-through blue robes and, of course, her collar.

As it was too early to get up, Harry had Hermione tell him about the Desmi they shared. She informed him that it was a Desmi Dulos and she was, of course, the Doulos or Sub, just as Ginny was; the main difference being that, where Ginny was a sex slave, Hermione was just a slave. While sex with her was not ruled out, it was not her function; she was to see to his needs—food, bathing, dressing, nearly anything that he would have had to do for himself could now be done by Hermione. In fact, she seemed beyond eager to do even the smallest thing for him. Part of him was sickened by the idea of what he'd done to her, but that part seemed somehow detached. Mostly, he just felt a desire to give her orders. It would not do, however to suddenly announce to the world that he had a slave without first thinking about the ramifications.

"Hermione," he said after a few minutes thought. "I want you to go back to your room and dress in one of your old uniforms and attend your classes as normal."

She appeared to be struggling to hide a combination of sadness, horror and disappointment at this command.

"Yes, Master," she said quietly. "If I may ask, how am I to serve you if I am not with you?"

"It will just be for now," he said gently. He somehow had a brief image of her trying to punish herself as Dobby often did. "I just want to make sure there's nothing against the rules and that I won't be treated too badly by that Skeeter woman when this comes out."

So Hermione was given the task of researching the school rules to make sure that the Desmis he had with Gabby, Ginny and herself were not going to get him expelled when they became known because he could no longer pretend that no one would ever find out.

Hermione obeyed his orders, of course, but not before making it known that she was unhappy about the fact that she wasn't to be allowed to bathe him and dress him and care for him.

After she left, Harry and Gabby slipped on his invisibility cloak again and he made Ginny noticeable before sending her up to her own dorm. It was early enough that no one was up and about yet, but Harry found something incredibly sexy about forcing Ginny to walk around Gryffindor tower in the nude.

He and Gabby showered and he dressed, then, after meeting up with Hermione, waited for Ron to come down so that they could all go to breakfast. It quickly became apparent that, even though she was wearing her normal uniform and going about her old life for the moment, Ron just didn't seem to pay any attention to Hermione at all. Harry had to keep himself from hanging his head in frustration. And as though Hermione's new status and the ramifications thereof were not enough weight on Harry's mind, he had a surprise waiting for him as the quartet exited the Great Hall on their way to Herbology.

"'Arry!" Fleur said, gaining not only his attention but the attention of more than a dozen of his fellow students. He cringed. This was definitely not on the list of things he needed at the moment.

"Yes, Fleur?" he said through clenched teeth. He turned to face her and found her wearing a sheer white gown that, while not exactly transparent, came very, very close. He could tell that she wore no bra and would have been willing to wager that it wasn't the only bit of her wardrobe conveniently missing. He closed his eyes and sighed. She practically floated up to him using every bit of natural charm she had save her Agein.

"'Arry," she repeated as she came close enough to touch him. She trailed a finger along his chest in what was meant to be an enticing manner. "I was just wondering if you'd given any zought to my. . . proposal. "

Harry opened his eyes and discovered that they indeed had an audience. He cursed inwardly.

"Fleur," he began, trying to keep his voice low. It still seemed to carry throughout the now silent Entrance Hall as surely as if he'd used the Sonorus charm. Damn her anyway. "I've told you twice before and I'm going to tell you once again: No. It's not going to happen now or tomorrow or the next day. It's not going to happen next week or next month or next year. So, for the last time. Stop asking!"

Fleur looked as though she wanted to attack and hurt him and also like she wanted to strip him and fuck him right there in the Hall at the same time. Gabby was seething at her sister and Harry wasn't too far behind. The main difference was that Harry was also embarrassed as he heard the whispers begin to spread. Ignoring Fleur, Harry turned on his heels and began shoving his way through the still crowd. He'd lost track of Ron and Hermione.

"'Arry, please!" she said piteously. "I need it 'Arry!" Harry didn't stop. " Bâtard! " she yelled after him.

Harry was embarrassed and unhappy to say the least by the time he reached Greenhouse 5 and the rest of his class and found a table at which to stand. He had paid little attention to where he'd been going though, and was almost completely unaware when the class actually began. After they were given their instructions for the day, Harry heard a quiet, tentative voice from his left.

"Harry?" It was Neville. Harry looked up to realize that he'd been so in his own mind when he'd come in that he was standing nowhere near Ron and Hermione. He inhaled and blew out a breath, calming himself as much as possible.

"Hey Nev," he said.

"You all right, mate?" he asked. "You seem. . . preoccupied."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Just had a bit of a confrontation that I could have done without." He gave Neville a weak smile.

"With Ron?" he asked, clearly confused.

"No," Harry said. "I guess you missed it. It happened right in the middle of the Entrance Hall just before class."

"Oh. I was here early."

"Well, don't worry," Harry said. "I'm sure that the story will be all over the school by the start of our next class."

After that the pair of them got to work. Harry shot an apologetic look at Ron for not working with him to which Ron just shrugged.

Harry was startled a bit when, a few minutes later, he glanced over to see who was working on his other side.

"Good morning, Harry," said Parvati in a rather chilly voice once he'd looked at her. "Nice of you to notice me."

Harry cringed inside at her remark. There was more than a bit of hurt in her voice but the look on her face told him that she didn't really want to be angry with him.

"Hey, Parvati," he replied by way of a greeting.

She went back to her work and so did he. But Harry kept feeling this nagging desire to say something to her. Truth be told, he felt bad for the way he'd treated her at the Yule Ball.

"Parvati," he said a few minutes later.

"Hmm?" she said distractedly.

"I, er," he fumbled. "I just wanted to, er, apologise for the Yule Ball. I was a git."

"Yes," she said matter of factly, "you were."

"Yeah, well," he said. "I'm sorry. You deserved better."

She looked at him appraisingly but said nothing. He figured that she was angry enough that a simple apology wasn't going to cut it. He didn't know what to say beyond that, however. After a moment, she went back to her work, still without saying anything.

Several minutes passed during which Harry concentrated on his work. Then Parvati spoke again.

"You think so?" she asked. Her voice was flat, with no indication of anger or curiosity or any other emotion she might be feeling. Harry had forgotten what he'd said.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"You said I deserved better, I just wanted to know if that was really what you thought," she clarified.

He looked at her for a moment, not knowing what she was really asking.

"Yes," he said. "You're smart, beautiful, friendly. . . You deserved a lot better than a git like me ignoring you all night."

She peered at him with an expression that he couldn't quite decipher and he carefully returned his attention to his plant. She returned to hers as well and they worked in silence for several minutes.

"You're just saying that, aren't you?" she asked.

"Saying what?" he asked. Again, enough time had passed that he'd forgotten what he'd said.

"That I'm. . . beautiful." She practically mumbled the last word.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"You're just saying that right? Because I'm not," she said quietly. "Not really."

"Pull the other one," he said. "I'm not just saying it."

"Because I know that Lavender and I have a certain. . . reputation for being a bit. . . shallow, and only concerned with looks," she went on as though he hadn't spoken. "And I suppose I'm somewhat pretty. But beautiful?"

"Parvati," he said, "there are over 500 girls at Hogwarts and if I had to rate them all, you'd most definitely be in the top ten."

She looked at him sideways for a moment. "Stop taking the mickey, Harry," she said, but there was a trace of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not," he said, pretending to be defensive. "I'd bet that if you asked all the blokes at Hogwarts they'd tell you the same thing. Well, except perhaps Malfoy. But then, he seems to have a thing for Pansy so either there's no accounting for taste or she's meant to hide that he's seeking for the other team." She snickered.

"Where was this Harry Potter on the night of the Yule Ball?" she asked with a grin.

"He was too busy focusing on every little thing that was wrong in his life to actually see the world around him," he said.

"So what happened?"

"Something made me open my eyes for the first time and I realized that I like what I see," he responded. He waggled his eyebrows at her, smiling in such a way as to let her know that he wasn't chatting her up.

She snickered again and both were interrupted by Professor Sprout who gave them as stern a look as she could manage and admonished them for not paying attention to their work. The rest of the lesson passed quietly with only the occasional glance from Parvati.

When the bell rang signalling the end of class and time to move on to Care of Magical Creatures, Hermione was at his side nearly instantly attempting to help him clean up and pack his book bag.

"Hermione," he said, gently stopping her efforts.

"Yes Master?" she asked.

"Harry, Hermione," he said, keeping his voice as low as he could. "Call me Harry, not Master."

"Yes, Harry," she said, stumbling over his name as though she hadn't said it hundreds of times in the past.

"I can manage myself," he said.

She looked at him with a lost expression and opened her mouth like she intended to scold him in her usual way, but no sound escaped her and she clamped her mouth shut again.

"Gabby," he said, "go with Hermione to Care and make sure she's all right. I'll catch you up in a minute."

She nodded and took Hermione's hand, pulling her out the door of the greenhouse whispering comforting and encouraging words to her. He finished putting away his tools and dragon hide gloves and slung his bag over his shoulder.

As he was passing Hagrid's hut, he heard someone whisper his name. He stopped and looked but didn't see anyone. He stepped closer and suddenly the door sprang open and a small hand pulled him inside. He whipped around and found himself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes set in a very attractive mocha coloured face.

"Parvati!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "What are you doing?"

She was on him in an instant, pressing her lips to his. He was shocked for a moment but found himself returning the kiss quite eagerly. She broke the kiss and looked him in the eyes.

"You really did mean it, didn't you?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Er, yes?" he said, not sure what she was talking about.

"You really think I'm beautiful?" she pressed.

"Of course I do," he said. And she was kissing him again. This time he was ready for it and held her close, pressing his body against hers. She giggled as she felt his reaction to her. Almost before he knew what was happening, he felt her hands inside his robes, fondling his growing hardness through his shorts. He groaned. "Oh, Parvati," he said, breaking the kiss. "Please don't start anything you don't intend to finish."

She placed a couple of kisses along his jawline. "Who says I don't intend to finish?"

"Oh," he groaned. He buried his head in her neck and inhaled. She smelled sweet from her perfume, flowery from her shampoo and earthy from her efforts in Herbology. He gently bit her neck, scraping his teeth along her skin. She moaned and stroked him through the fabric of his underwear.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, hoping that she would say yes.

She looked at him with sultry eyes. "Are you kidding?" she asked. "I don't think there's a girl in this school who could say no to you. Except perhaps Malfoy."

Harry sniggered. "He is a bit of a girl isn't he?"

Instead of answering, she pulled him into another kiss. Her fingers began fumbling with the fastenings of his robes as he began fumbling with hers. Thank God Fang is tied up out back, he thought. I can't believe I'm going to shag Parvati Patil in Hagrid's house!

Harry slipped Parvati's robes over her shoulders. Like most pure-bloods, she wore nothing underneath but a bra and knickers—satiny pink and, though conservative, quite alluring.

He stepped back as his robes joined hers on the floor and admired her body. It was amazing; taut and smooth and flawless. Her light brown skin practically glowed in the darkness of the room and her hair—shiny, long and black—fell in sheets around her shoulders. She was so lovely and he couldn't believe just how aroused he was.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed.

She performed a little pirouette for him and his breath hitched.

"Top ten?" she asked teasingly.

He shook his head. "Top five, easily," he responded. "Right now, looking like that? Top one."

She blushed at his praise and rushed him again. Lips and tongues explored their counterparts while hands sought bare expanses of flesh. She let a surprised "eep!" escape into his mouth when his fingers managed to solve the puzzle that was her bra clasp. She only helped slip it from her frame, however, before wrapping her arms back around him and pulling his chest into hers. The feel of her hardened, little nipples poking his chest sent a fresh surge of blood towards his ever hardening erection.

He felt her hands slip into the back of his boxers and push them down by sliding over his arse. He had to chuckle a bit as she struggled to free his cock from the elastic waistband. She tried to glare up at him but failed to keep a straight face.

"Finally!" she exclaimed when he bobbed free and his shorts dropped to his ankles. She took him in hand and began gently stroking him. Her hand was like velvet. He slipped his hand down the front of her knickers and found her folds. Her stroking stopped for a moment as her eyes closed and she sucked in a shaky breath at the contact. She was very aroused if the moisture flowing from her sex was any indication. He found the little nub of her clit and circled it with his finger; her knees nearly buckled.

"You like that?" he asked. She nodded and lay her head on his chest. She bit her lower lip and moaned. He slid his finger lower and sought out her entrance, pressing gently inside.

"Take me, Harry," she said, looking up at him. "Enough foreplay. I need you inside me."

Without moving his hand from her cunt, he used his other to slowly work her panties down over her hips and far enough that they dropped to her ankles. She turned around—his hand following as she did so—and presented her backside to him. She leaned over the bench next to the over large table and looked back over her shoulder.

"Like this, Harry," she said.

He didn't need telling twice. He stepped out of his boxers and up behind her. Taking himself in hand, he swiped up and down her hot, slick sex.

"Do it, Harry," she whined. "Please. I need you."

He pushed with his hips and slid the head of his cock into her welcoming depths. She groaned at the contact and so did he.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she said huskily. "More!"

He pressed deeper, then pulled out a bit and then pushed in even deeper.

"Oh, that's good," he said.

She merely nodded with her cheek pressed against the bench. In no time at all, he was fully inside her—buried to the hilt as they say. The inner walls of her pussy massaged his hardness like none of the others he'd experienced save Gabby's. He began a steady and slow rhythm, which she seemed to enjoy immensely.

"Oh, yes, Harry," she moaned. "Fuck me."

He stroked in and out of her, running his hands over her soft, smooth flesh, caressing her back and arse and hips and upper thighs—anything he could reach easily. She began mewling in satisfaction.

"You like that?" he asked.

"It's heaven," she replied. Her voice was shaky with lust; he was surprised at just how quickly she was responding to him. He continued his slow thrusting as he reached around underneath her and sought out her pussy. Gathering some of her wetness he slid his fingers lightly over her hardened and distended clit. She shivered and came, her knees buckling a bit before she caught herself.

"Wow," he said, not realizing he'd spoken aloud.

"Mmmm," she moaned. "'Wow' is right."

"Liked that, did you?" he asked as he continued slipping gently over her clit. He was shocked at just how quickly she came.

"Mmm hmm," was all she said. Even as her first orgasm was subsiding, he could tell there was another building.

His other hand found it's way up and massaged as much of her breast as he could manage. "You always come that easily?" he asked teasingly.

"Don't know," he panted. "Never actually done this before."

He increased his pace just enough for her to notice.

"You're a virgin?"

"Well," she said with a squeal in her voice; she was already nearing another peak. "Not any more."

He dipped his finger back into her nectar and brought it to her mouth. She looked at it with glazed eyes for a moment before willingly and eagerly sucking it in between her lips.

"Mmmm," she said as he returned it to her pussy and went back to massaging the sensitive little bundle of nerves. "I taste—" Her breath caught and as she came again she managed to force out, "—good!"

The grasping and pulsing of her soft, slick sex was driving him nearer his own release. He upped his tempo just a bit more.

"Oh gods, Harry," she breathed, "I never thought it could be this good!"

He ran the hand that he was using to stroke her clit down into her folds—gathering moisture, caressing fleshy lips, sliding over soft skin—then returning to her clit where he ran it back and forth as rapidly as he could manage, increasing the stimulation she was receiving. She made a sound like all the air being forced from her lungs followed rapidly by a quick, sharp squeal and then she came again.

This girl is on a hair trigger, he thought. He stopped running his fingers back and forth and just slowly kneaded the area surrounding her clitoris. He slowed his pace down a bit to give her a bit of a break but it didn't seem to matter; she was already building towards another orgasm. Or maybe, she was still on her first and it just kept being extended. Either way, he could tell that she wouldn't be able to keep it up for long before she simply gave out; he was going to have to keep this encounter short.

He began thrusting quite rapidly and she noticed immediately.

"Oh, Harry," she said. "Oh, gods. Oh, Harry!" It became a mantra that she repeated over and over, though she couldn't seem to go more than ten or twelve repetitions before she'd squeal, clench down on his cock and come all over him.

He took his hands off her breast and cunt and grabbed her hips, using them as leverage to thrust faster and deeper.

Several minutes later and she was becoming incoherent; her mantra devolving into something that resembled, "Ohah, oguh, ohah, oguh." He had lost track of the number of times she'd come as they started running together. It seemed to him as though she was simply in the midst of one incredibly long orgasm. He hadn't known it was possible, but then again, less than a week before, he'd been a virgin himself with his only experience with girls being just one notch past platonic.

Still he plunged in and out of her hot, velvety slick sex; her muscles, controlled by the constant climax she was undergoing, milking and caressing his cock to the point of his own release.

"Oh, God, Parvati," he called. "I'm going to come!" The pressure in his balls built to the point that they felt as though they would burst, and then he felt the first contraction. He grunted and nearly fell on top of her as he sprayed her welcoming pussy with his seed; squirt after squirt decorating the entrance to her womb. He stopped thrusting and let the fading rhythmic contractions of her sex draw the last of his semen from him.

"Oh, God, Parvati," he said again, "That was wonderful."

There was no response from her. He leaned over and looked at her. Her eyes were closed and she was limp. He shook her shoulder and still received no response. He pulled out of her—rivulets of white trailing down her inner thighs—and pulled his wand from a pocket of his robes.

" Rennervate, " he said, pointing at her. Her eyes snapped open and she jerked a bit as though startled. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"What happened?" she asked as she shakily sat up and leaned against the bench. Her eyes sought him out.

"I think you passed out."

"Oh," she said, clearly embarrassed, "I didn't mean to. It was just so intense." She appeared to be trying valiantly to gather her bearings. "Did, um— Did you. . .?"

For a moment he was confused, then he realized that she was worried that her passing out kept him from coming. He cleared his throat and couldn't help but glance down at the trail of his come sliding slowing down her thighs. She followed his eyes and put her hand between her legs coming up with a smear of white. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Inside?" she squeaked. "I could. . ."

"Oh, don't worry," he said. "I can't get you pregnant." He blushed at voicing such a concept to the naked girl in front of him.

"Oh," she said. She seemed shocked by this bit of information. "Really? You're sure?"

He nodded. "Tested just two days ago," he said.

She looked around, apparently not knowing how to respond to that. Then she brightened.

"Well, in that case," she said with an impish smile, "perhaps we can make this a regular thing? If you can make me pass out with pleasure every time. . ." She left the thought hanging.

He smiled right back at her. "As long as you don't mind sharing," he said just as impishly.

She slipped her knickers back on as he grabbed his shorts.

"Sharing, huh?" she asked with a small smile. "And just who might that be?"

"Oh, no," he said as he reached for his robes. "I don't fuck and tell."

She seemed disappointed by this until she realized that also meant that he wouldn't tell anyone else about her.

They finished dressing and checked each other over at the door to make sure there was no evidence of their little encounter.

"Well, I'm definitely going to want at least another go, Mr. Potter," she said as she picked a spot of imaginary lint off his robes. "Most likely many, many more than that."

"I look forward to that, Miss Patil."

They slipped out the door and did their best to sneak up behind their classmates as they were all focused on the unicorns in the pen. Harry thought they'd made it until he looked over and saw Malfoy watching him. He waited the entire rest of the lesson for Malfoy to say something inappropriate but it never came.

As they entered the castle after class however, Malfoy chose to make his presence known.

"Think you can get away with anything Potter?" he drawled.

Harry choose to feign ignorance. "Just what are you on about, Malfoy?" He turned to see not only the blond Slytherin himself and his usual bookends but also Pansy Parkinson—who was hanging on Malfoy's arm—Blaise Zabini and a weedy looking boy whose name Harry didn't know. Harry portrayed confidence but inside he was worried that Malfoy had noticed both he and Parvati joining the class late and that he might jump to conclusions. After all, as large as it was, the right conclusion was fairly easy to land on.

"I saw you sneaking your way into that big oaf's class, if you can call it that," he said. "Think you can come and go as you please just because you got yourself in that tournament?" He tapped the badge on his chest which promptly displayed it's customary "Potter stinks".

"What's the matter, Malfoy," he asked. "Jealous? Feeling inadequate?"

"You wish," Malfoy said. "I'm sure that professor Snape would be interested to know that you were late to one of your classes."

"And I'm sure that professor McGonagall would be curious as to why you run to Snape instead of bringing it to the attention of the professor whose class it was."

Malfoy sneered at him. "You think you're so special just because you've got that ugly scar on your head. You're nothing Potter. I'm better than you and everyone knows it."

"Better than me?" Harry said incredulously. "Malfoy, no one likes you unless they're too stupid to know different."

Pansy looked over at Harry and crinkled her nose at him. "Now who's the jealous one?"

Malfoy laughed and there were several nods of agreement from the Slytherins in attendance.

Jealous, eh? Harry thought. He glanced at Pansy, who was back to watching Malfoy with love in her eyes. Perhaps he could embarrass both of them and take them down a peg. He felt for the thread of magic that connect him to the Slytherin girl hanging on Malfoy's every word and increased it a bit. She looked over at Harry and her eyes widened. He increased it a bit more and her grip on Malfoy's arm slackened.

"Too bad for you that you'll never be as good as a Malfoy, Potter," he drawled.

It was at that moment that Pansy detached herself from Malfoy's arm and crossed the gap to Harry. Malfoy watched with a smile, likely thinking that she was going to do something horrible to him.

"Hello, Harry," she said shyly. "Perhaps we could go somewhere a little more private?"

Harry reduced the "pull" on Pansy and held her at arms length.

"Pansy," Malfoy said, sounding shocked. "What are you doing?"

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" he taunted. "Can't hang on to your girl?"

"What did you do to her Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"Do?" Harry asked. "Did you see me wave my wand or give her a potion? You're just not man enough for her, more like." He turned her around and gave her a small push back towards Malfoy. The other Slytherins had expressions that varied from shocked to confused. "I'm afraid, however, that she's just not up to my usual standards." He turned to Pansy. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, Parkinson, but I think you should stick to fawning over the crown ponce of Slytherin over there."

Malfoy was turning red, but whether it was from anger or embarrassment, Harry didn't know. Probably both. Pansy seemed reluctant to go back to Malfoy.

Harry turned to continue on to the Great Hall. Over his shoulder he called back, "I'd tell you that someday you'll be man enough to keep a girl happy, Malfoy, but I just can't bring myself to give you false hope like that."

Malfoy just stood there, apparently unsure what to do.

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .A Veela Obsession

Despite his mid-morning romp with Parvati, Harry was still quite randy all through lunch. Not for the first time, he wished that he didn't have Divination, only now it was because the double class he had that afternoon would prevent him from dragging Gabby or Ginny or any number of girls up to his bed and shagging them senseless.

To make matters even worse, Hermione leaned over to him halfway through his lunch and whispered, "Mas— Ha—arry—" It appeared she was still having trouble addressing him as anything other than "Master". "—am I to accompany you to your afternoon class?"

"Don't you have Ancient Runes?" he asked.

She lowered her head as though ashamed and nodded without looking up. "Yes, M—Harry," she said.

"Well, then, I want you to attend your classes as normal."

She looked back up at him with an expression of confusion and perhaps a little fear. He put his arm gently around her to try to comfort her.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" he asked quietly.

"M—Harry," she said shakily, "I will not be with you. How will I know if you require me? I will not be able to serve you."

"I'll be fine, Hermione," he said. "I've survived the class for nearly a year without you. I think I can manage one afternoon."

Hermione still seemed unsure, so again, he sent Gabby to go with her and keep her calm. He regretted this as he watched the pair leave the Hall as he'd been developing some vague notions about Gabby hiding underneath a table at the back of the Divination classroom. It certainly would have helped him with his urges. Now, unfortunately, he was on his own until dinner time.

As he made his way up to the seventh floor and the rope ladder that led to Trelawney's classroom, thinking about just how long that double Divination was going to seem, a broom cupboard door opened and a hand shot out and pulled him into the dark.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Who—"

"Shhh," said a voice. He couldn't tell who it was.

Hands unfastened his robes faster than he'd thought possible. Those same hands began lightly trailing patterns around exposed areas of his skin and fondling his growing erection through the material of his boxers.

"What—" he said.

"Shhh," the voice said again. "Just relax." It was whispered and provided no more clues as to it's owner than did the darkness.

This was a bad idea, he told himself. He most certainly should not be in a broom cupboard with someone he didn't know. It could be dangerous. They could easily be caught. It would likely be embarrassing for both of them. But the feelings that were already travelling up his spine from his cock were quite effectively clouding his judgement.

Still, he told himself, no matter how good it feels, no matter how aroused he was, he should probably put a stop to it. He was on the point of doing so when he felt his shorts being lowered—over his erection, past his thighs, down to his ankles. Even in the pitch black of the cupboard he felt exposed to this unknown person as she (God, he hoped it was a she) began stroking him directly.

"I don't—" he began.

"Shhh, don't talk," the voice whispered once again. "Just enjoy it."

After a bit of fumbling, lips found his and a very erotic kiss ensued. He couldn't believe just how turned on he was by kissing and being fondled by this unknown person. Instinctively, he brought his hands around to embrace her, but he only managed a brief touch of cloth-covered upper arms and long hair before his arms were pushed back down by his sides and her hand returned to stroking his cock. He couldn't help but moan; his arousal was doing his thinking and, just then, he couldn't even begin to imagine putting a stop to what was happening.

The other hand began gently massaging his bollocks and he couldn't help but let his head fall back in pleasure. He bit his lip to stifle a groan as he enjoyed the electric thrill surging through him.

"Does that feel good?" the voice breathed.

He nodded and then his arousal-fogged brain realized that she wouldn't have been able to see it.

"Yes," he said.

"Good."

Suddenly there was a new sensation—hot, wet tongue gliding around the head of his cock, sliding over sensitive areas, licking up the fluid dripping from the tip. This time he could only stifle most of the groan and he had to fight to keep his hands from searching out her hair. His hips thrust gently forward once of their own volition and he breathed loudly through his nose as he grit his teeth in an effort to maintain control of his own body; the urge to shove her back against the wall and thoroughly shag her was growing.

The sucking sensations on his cock along with the swirling softness of her tongue and the stroking of her hand on the shaft set fire to the most primal and primitive parts of his brain.

"Oh, God," he whispered heavily. "That's so good."

She stopped sucking long enough to whisper back, "I'm glad you like it." She returned her attentions to his cock and Harry shivered in pleasure. She was inexperienced but enthusiastic and that quickly had Harry working to delay his climax in order to longer enjoy her ministrations.

She laved the head of his erection with her tongue and lightly stroked the shaft. Her other hand caressed his balls as she did so. Harry's abdominal muscles tensed in pleasure and his cock throbbed in her warm, wet mouth. She ran her tongue along the underside of his manhood as she slid him as deeply into her mouth as she could take him before pulling back, bobbing her head on him, nearly managing to bump the back of her throat. Her strokes increased in pace and his breathing became louder and more forced as he began panting with desire. She drew back and tickled the opening at the end of his cock with her tongue before swirling around the head again.

His eyes adjusting to the darkness, he could finally make out some of the girl in front of him in the bit of light that found it's way under the door. It was not enough to tell who she was, however, merely enough to see that she was petite—though he had known that from the small amount of contact he'd had with her.

"Getting close," he said through gritted teeth. She moaned on him and his cock throbbed and his stomach muscles spasmed in response. He thrust forward unconsciously and managed to bump into her throat. She reacted by quickly pulling back to keep from gagging leaving just his head in her mouth. The sensation was enough for Harry however as he grunted as quietly as he could manage and erupted, coating her tongue and teeth and throat with his hot, salty sperm, barely managing a quietly grunted "Now!" before he did so. Five, six, seven contractions at the base of his hardness as he squirted into her mouth, the feelings he was receiving from her lips as she swallowed his seed extending his orgasm.

Eventually, his climax subsided but she continued gently sucking on him; her ministrations and his rampant libido causing him to never go soft.

"That was wonderful," he whispered. "Thank you."

She had removed herself from his cock and stood up—she was a few inches shorter that him, he noticed—and his hand slipped between her legs. It was only fair that he return the favour after all. He only got a quick feel of soft, wet, bald cunt lips when she'd grabbed his arm and forced his hand away, however.

"Ah, ah, ah," she said. "And don't thank me yet."

She pulled him closer and took his manhood in hand. As he came close enough, she manoeuvred it to the entrance of her waiting cunt. After a bit of awkward repositioning, he slid completely inside her. She was incredibly tight but very aroused judging by how slick she was.

It soon became apparent that, with her smaller size and with them both standing, she was just not able to fuck herself on his cock, so, with a bit of shifting, Harry began thrusting in and out of her grasping channel. Trying to respect her desire for him to. . . keep his hands to himself, for lack of a better phrase, he braced himself on the wall behind her as he pistoned his hips. She was moaning in pleasure in no time and doing her best to thrust right back on him.

She parted his robes and leaned forward, pressing little kisses on his chest as she mewled and whimpered and moved on him. He bent down and, using one hand, lifted her chin, attempting to find her mouth with his. He found her nose first but didn't let that deter him. He placed a kiss right on the end, then kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. The wet, squishing sounds of their union filled the small space as their mouths found each other. Lips parted and tongues duelled; he could taste himself in her kiss but he didn't care. The unknown aspect of the encounter seemed to heighten every little touch and taste and twitch.

Their kiss broke and she dotted his face with her lips, becoming more and more insistent. The ripples of her sex was all he needed to tell him that she was perhaps even more turned on by their tryst in the dark than he was. She allowed a long groan to escape followed soon after by a very feminine, very sexy, inhalation. A few more thrusts and he could hear her breathing heavily through her nose as she bit her tongue to keep from crying out. She twitched and practically fell on him as she came, her cunt clasping and grasping at his cock as though trying to rip it from his groin. He slipped his hands inside her open robes and pulled her hips tightly to him, both to increase the stimulation of her clit and extend her orgasm but also to stop her thrusting thereby delaying his; despite the fact that he'd just come, he was nearing his release once again.

As she recovered from her climax and his need to spill himself lessened, he began thrusting once more, this time with his hands still firmly planted on her hips. It was difficult to tell anything about them, however except for the fact that they were smooth and small. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself back so that she was resting her upper back against the wall. This gave her better purchase to thrust herself onto his cock.

The feel of her surrounding him was causing fireworks in the back of his head, popping with blinding flashes in his over-aroused brain. His thrusting became more desperate even as she began building towards her second orgasm. Probably forgetting just where she was and the danger involved, her now nearly incessant mewling and moaning and turned to grunts and squealing. Not thinking about silencing the door, Harry simply moved one of his hands from her hips and covered her mouth.

"Shhh," he said quietly; the irony of this sudden role reversal was not lost on him. "Someone will catch us. Keep it down."

"Just fuck me," she whimpered in response, though she'd quietened down some for which he was thankful. "Fuck me hard."

Not one to ignore a request—or command—he picked up the pace and became a little more forceful. She noticed immediately and bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she breathed. "That feels lovely. Harder. Faster."

He moved his hand back to her hip and, gripping her tightly, began thoroughly pounding into her, spearing her welcoming cunt with his rock hard shaft, slamming his pubic bone into her fleshy pussy lips, brutally impacting her clit with each inward thrust. She reached out with her hands as though to grab him but couldn't seem to find anything to hold onto with her shoulders resting against the wall as they were. One of her hands found his robes and gripped with all her strength, the other slipped down to the top of her cunt and danced over her clit a few times. The extra stimulation was all she needed.

She stifled a squeal in the back of her throat as she came all over his cock again, the added fluid that her climax provided causing his sex to smack noisily against hers as it ran down her legs, causing her inner thighs to glisten in the dim light from under the door. Her teasing hand lost it's drive and dropped to her side.

Harry performed his little stop and grind manoeuvre again to halt his progression towards climax and extend her euphoria. He was much closer this time, however and the sensations he was receiving from her convulsing cunt muscles refused to let him back away from his orgasm. He moved one hand from her hip and found her sex. He picked up where she left off, intent on driving her to ecstasy a third time.

He cautiously began thrusting again, while still working hard to stimulate her little button. She never really had a chance to completely come down off her second before she started the climb towards her next. That was fine with Harry because he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Yes," she moaned. "Fuck me. Make me come."

"You need it?" he whispered. "You need to come?"

She nodded clumsily and he could just make out the shine of her hair as she did so.

"You need my cock, don't you?" he asked.

Again, she nodded.

"You're a slut aren't you?"

Another nod.

"A wanton slut." He was not even waiting for her replies any more.

"You need cock like you need air, like you need water."

Nod.

"You have to feel yourself impaled on me, don't you?"

"Oh, gods, yes!" It was a screamed whisper.

He pounded into her moist folds and fingered her nubbin furiously. Her head was lolling clumsily back and forth as though she were waking from sedation. She was nearly out of it. And she was close—so close to coming that he could feel the warning ripples in her inner walls.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck." she said, before simply whimpering incoherently.

Harry wasn't going to be able to wait much longer. His cock was throbbing and his balls were tightening; he was going to come at any moment. He could no longer concentrate on keeping his hand moving on her cunt. He moved it back to her hip and drove into her violently a few more times.

"Oh, God," he said. "I'm going to come."

That was apparently all she needed as her breath hitched and she came. He followed not a second behind her, shoving himself deep inside and filling her slippery channel with thick, sticky splashes of semen.

He moved his hands and braced himself on the wall again to keep from using her to hold himself up as his climax raced through all the nerve endings of his body. He was sweaty and panting and only now aware of just how hot and humid it had become inside their little cupboard.

As they recovered from their orgasms, they separated and began fumbling in the dark for clothes. Somehow, even as he was still trying to get his boxers on the right way round, she had her robes all fastened and was ready to leave.

"So," she whispered, having caught most of her breath. He could hear the amusement in her voice. "Figured out who I am?"

He could easily light his wand and know for sure, but somehow he knew that would spoil it. Besides, he didn't think he really needed to.

"I think so," he said.

"You only think?" It was clearly mock hurt in her question as he could make out the laughter buried in her words.

"I think," he reiterated. He had managed his boxers finally and was in the process of fastening up his robes.

"Well, perhaps this will help," she said as she pressed a small piece of cloth into his hand. "You earned it."

And in a flash of door, too fast to make out anything—especially since he was looking at the item she'd given him—she was gone.

He finished with his robes and slipped out the door, looking surreptitiously around for any observers.

Two turns and three staircases later, he dared to look at the item in his hand. He held it up and straightened it enough to tell what it was before flushing and stuffing it quickly in his pocket.

It was a pair of white cotton knickers with a bit of lacy trim.

After arriving in class and apologizing for being so late without an excuse, he counted his blessings that he didn't receive a detention or have any points docked as Trelawney claimed she couldn't bring herself to punish someone who had "so little time left before the end." Ron merely asked him where he'd been and why he was sweaty.

Even though nearly half an hour of Divination had passed by the time he'd taken his seat, the remainder of the class seemed as though it were attempting to extend to the very limits of eternity. He wanted nothing more than for the day to be over because he couldn't wait to get back to his dorm room for some private time with Gabby. Or Ginny. Or Hermione. Or all of them. Perhaps he could convince Susan and Hannah and Alicia, Angelina, Katie, Vicky, Cloyssa and Parvati to come along. He could stand to go a couple rounds with each of them. . .

God, was he randy.

The dim lighting and the warm, perfumed air of the Divination classroom sought to lull him to unconsciousness, causing his limbs to feel heavy and his eyelids to droop dangerously. Ron had to nudge him more than once to keep him awake.

All he wanted to do was sleep.

And fuck.

It was too bad Gabby was with Hermione, she could have fucked him in the back of the classroom whilst he nodded off. She could slowly open his robes—it was dark enough back where he was sitting that surely no one would notice—and slip his cock out of his shorts, casually licking and sucking it till it stood up and begged for the attention of her perfect cunt. She'd slide up his body and position herself so that her sex was poised over his stiff arousal. Sliding down onto him, he would toss his head back and moan quietly in pleasure, revelling in every exquisite millimetre of her slippery, young channel. Her silvery blond hair, waving in undulating sheets as she moved sexily, grinding herself on his. . .

"Hey mate," Ron whispered, elbowing him once again. "Wake up."

Gabrielle vanished leaving him aroused and unsatisfied. He shifted in his chair and adjusted his robes a bit to hopefully stop Ron seeing his erection. He flushed with the sensation of being caught, but hoped it was too dark for his friend to notice.

"You all right?" he asked. "You were groaning or something."

"Fine," he grumbled. Why couldn't he be fucking now? And why was he so horny?

By the time Divination was over and dinner had begun, he wanted nothing more than to fuck Gabby the moment he saw her. He forced himself to sit calmly and eat, however, as he was sure that, should she pull her little suck-him-of-under-the-table trick, he would forget the audience of hundreds of students and faculty and simply throw her down and shag her senseless. She could tell that he was agitated though and quietly asked him if there was anything she could do for him.

"When we get back to the common room, tell Hermione and Ginny that they'll be sleeping in their own beds tonight," he said in an undertone. "Then meet me in my bed."

She looked at him with a mischievous smile, looking for all the world like the cat who got the canary. He could tell she knew she was going to be fucked long and hard tonight and was looking forward to it. No doubt she'd felt his climaxes as he'd fucked first Parvati and then the "mystery girl" in the cupboard. She was likely as anxious as he was to have a few hours alone together.

She placed her hand on his thigh and moved it slowly up towards his crotch.

"Do you want to play, Master?" she asked huskily.

"Oh, God, yes," he breathed. "If you move that hand any farther, I'm likely to take you right here on the table in front of everyone."

She giggled but stilled her hand.

"Promises, promises, Master," she said playfully.

Back up in the common room, Ginny and Hermione gave him no trouble, though Harry had to turn down a game of Wizard Chess from an insistent Ron.

"But it's been ages since we've played, Harry," he said petulantly.

"I know, Ron," said Harry, longing for his bed and the eager sex toy waiting at the bottom of the stairs to the boys dorm. "But I'm really knackered tonight. Maybe tomorrow." Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Gabby's hand and pulled her up the stairs.

"Are you as desperate as I am, Master?" she asked as she started working on his robes, hands flying quickly from fastening to fastening.

"More," he responded as he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his socks. "I've been hard nearly constantly since this morning. Sure I had sex twice, but I still feel like I haven't had any for a week."

She pulled his boxers down and he reached for her sex, already slick with arousal. In response, she merely pulled him onto the bed so that he landed on top of her.

"No foreplay, Master," she purred. "I've been feeling your need all day and I'm ready now. Fuck me."

"As you command, My Lady," he said with a grin. He smiled and flicked his wand at the curtains, silencing them. Without waiting any longer, he lined his cock up with her slippery entrance and pushed, plunging all the way in with one smooth move. She cried out in desire and pleasure.

They rutted like animals for hours, finally collapsing next to each other, sweaty and naked and messy with their drying fluids. Neither was truly satisfied, but both were exhausted and needed rest.

Harry's dreams gave him no reprieve, however. He found himself walking the halls of Hogwarts wearing only his boxers. He might have been embarrassed—having had dreams like this before—but no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. Add to that the fact that every single female he saw appeared to be dressed as though it were a fancy dress party and they'd all come as Gabby and embarrassment was the last thing on his mind. However, every time he drew near one of them, something would prevent him from actually reaching her; she would turn a corner suddenly and disappear—he would be blocked by a group of students walking between them and once they'd passed, she would be gone—something would draw his attention away and when he'd turn back she would no longer be there.

He tried calling out to these girls but they never seemed to hear him. He tried running, but it was just no use. His erection was painful and he wanted nothing more than to catch one of these girls and pull her into a classroom or a cupboard or simply down to the floor in the middle of the hallway and fuck her for hours.

Frustrated, he entered a classroom, hoping that, in a confined space, his prey would be less elusive. As he closed the door behind him, he found each and every desk filled with beautiful, naked, willing young girls, all with collars of black leather and definite looks of hunger.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall from the front of the class. Harry silently thanked whatever gods there were that she was not dressed like the girls. "You're finally here." He turned to see her waiting expectantly. "Well, come on up here. The students are waiting for class to begin and we certainly can't start without you, now can we?"

He slowly began making his way through an ocean of tempting, naked flesh only to find them reaching out to stroke and caress and touch and tease any part of him they could reach. He stopped several times to return their affections, but each time, McGonagall would clear her throat impatiently in an attempt to hurry him along.

As he reached the front of the room, he was made to strip out of his shorts to the amusement, lust and desire of the assembled witches seated at the desks. They seemed to lean forward as one at the sight of his engorged cock. Many of them were licking their lips in anticipation; a couple were whispering excitedly to neighbours.

"Now," said McGonagall in an authoritative tone, effectively collecting the attention of the class. "Today's lesson is about male masturbation. You'll all want to pay attention as this will be on the final exam."

One girl's hand shot up. Harry saw her tits jiggle invitingly at the movement. McGonagall called on her.

"For the final exam," the girl asked in what Harry thought was a very sexy voice, "will it be Harry that we'll all be masturbating?" The rest of the class giggled and the professor's lips thinned.

"Of course," she said. "Who else?"

More giggles accompanied two of the girls in the front row actually reaching towards him as though they wanted nothing more than to take the final exam right then. Harry would have been more than willing to let them try.

"Now," said McGonagall, beginning the lesson, "the first thing you'll want to do is to grasp his penis thus." She reached down and lightly gripped him with her hand. Harry swallowed. Was his stern professor really going to give him a hand job right there in front of a roomful of girls?

That is in fact what she did. The strangeness of it being McGonagall giving him pleasure was offset by the nude flesh surrounding him—overwhelming his senses. He was on the point of his release when the bell rang and McGonagall stopped abruptly. Not to be disappointed, Harry reckoned that he would simply get one of these eager girls to finish him off. Before he could so much as call out a single name, however, they'd all scrambled for the door.

"Wait!" he called. But it was no use. Frustrated and desperate for sex, he strode for the door, determined to catch one of them and have his way with her.

"Mr. Potter," said McGonagall as he reached the door.

He turned back to her only to find that McGonagall was gone. In her stead was an impishly smiling Gabrielle.

"Oh, Gabby!" he said happily. "Thank God you're here." He rushed to her, fully expecting something to prevent him reaching her. Nothing did, however, and he gathered her in his arms and whispered in her ear just how happy he was that she was there.

"I think it is time we take care of this," she said, indicating his rigid manhood.

"Oh, yes!" he said. She pushed him back onto the desk and climbed onto him, straddling his hips.

She turned to face the empty room which he now noticed was no longer empty but filled with yet another group of delectable, young, eager girls. He hadn't even heard them come in.

"In this class," she said, addressing the students like a professor, "we will be learning about fucking." There was a murmur of excitement that passed through the room and he noticed several girls slipping their hands down under their desks.

Gabby raised herself up and slid back down, impaled on his cock. She began a quick steady rhythm, bouncing up and down on him, her moist, tight sex speaking directly to his arousal.

"Oh, God, Gabby," he moaned. "That's so good."

"Ms. Potter, I have a question." It was one of the girls in class with her hand raised. Harry was startled to see that it was Hermione. He was equally startled to see Parvati, Hannah, Susan, Cloyssa, Ginny, Katie, Alicia, Angelina and Vicky. But he blinked in shock when he saw that the last girl in the room was Gabby, sitting quietly with a somewhat sad, slightly resigned look on her face.

The Gabby currently fucking him said, "Oui? What is your question, 'Ermione?"

Harry turned back to his lover to see silvery blond hair, full hips and bouncing breasts on a tall frame.

It was not Gabby he was fucking.

His eyes snapped open and he found himself in his four poster with someone sitting on his thighs, slowly rubbing up and down on his cock with her hot, damp sex.

He rolled and practically threw her off him.

"Fleur?" he yelled in shock. "What the fuck?"

Gabby, who awoke at his shout, sprang to her knees and hissed at her sister in a way that it put Harry in mind of a feral cat. Harry shook his head to try to clear the cobwebs left behind from his sleep. Fleur reached out and tried to run her finger down Harry's naked chest, but he snatched her arm and threw it aside.

"What's ze matter, 'Arry?" she asked with a mock pout. "Are you not aroused by me? Do you not find me sexy?"

Harry looked from Gabby, who looked like she would like nothing more that for him to tell her to kill her sister painfully and slowly, back to Fleur.

"No, Fleur," he said. "I don't."

Fleur seemed unaware of the abundant anger that the other occupants of the bed held for her right then. She smiled coyly at Harry and tried to look sultry.

"I zink you are lying, Harry," she said. "I zink you find me irresistible. I zink you want nozzing more zan to make love to me—to take me and make me yours."

Realization hit him and Harry felt as if all the air had suddenly gone out of the room. Gabby, who had been looking at her sister as though she were some slimy bug to be squashed, slowly turned to face her Master with a look of growing shock and dread. Harry gaped as he came to understand just why he'd been so randy all day. He felt hatred swelling in his chest and asked the question to which all three knew the answer.

"You initiated a Desmi," he said coldly. "Didn't you?"

Fleur simply smiled and nodded as though she'd been caught doing something as innocent as throwing dungbombs or scratching a dirty joke into a bathroom stall. It was as though she didn't understand the magnitude of what she'd done. Perhaps she truly didn't. The silence hung in the air like something palpable for several moments. When Harry next spoke it was with a quiet fury that finally gave Fleur pause.

"You absolute bitch !" Fleur's smile slipped as Harry panted, trying to control the rage that was mixed with dangerous amounts of lust and arousal. His cock was painfully hard and drooling and a very real part of him was afraid that he might lose control and rape her. Already he could feel the burning need for sex and with his current hatred for the girl, it would almost certainly be. . . unpleasant for her, no matter what she expected.

"'Arry?" she said quietly clearly trying to salvage what she seemed to think was the perfect mood. "What is ze matter? Do you not find me attractive?"

Harry clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms. Everything she said—every seductive word—grated on his nerves and stoked his anger.

"Do not say anything else." It was said with a venom that actually seemed to frighten Fleur.

"'Arry," she said, disregarding his order. "You are scaring me. What is wrong?"

Forcing himself to clamp down on his anger at this betrayal, he said, "'What's wrong?' 'What's wrong?' she asks." He laughed humourlessly. "What's wrong is that I want so much to fuck you right now that I can barely control it."

"So what is ze problem?" she asked stupidly. He slapped her. Hard. Hard enough to knock her onto her side. She clutched her cheek as she looked back up at him in shock.

"The problem," he said in a mocking tone, "is that I also hate you so much right now for initiating this Desmi, that I'm not sure you'd like or even survive the experience." She looked confused as though she couldn't understand why he might be angry with her. "I have half a mind to refuse it and let the Veela council have their way with you." Now she looked really confused.

"Veela council?" she asked.

"God, how could you be so stupid?" demanded Gabby, speaking for the first time since their rude awakening. "If he rejects your Desmi, you'll be taken before the Veela council to answer for the crime of initiating a Desmi without consent. And since Harry isn't Veela, it's automatically a death sentence." Fleur now looked scared. "And right now I almost wish he would do it."

Harry's hatred for the older Veela softened at those words, however.

"I won't though," he said. Gabby looked over at him.

"Why not?" she asked. It was a testament to just how angry and hurt she was that she didn't immediately acquiesce to his intentions.

"Because she's your sister," he said. "And as much as you hate her right now, you would eventually hate me for doing it."

Gabby glared defiantly at him for a moment before all the fight left her and she seemed to deflate. Fleur, apparently not knowing what to say merely looked back and forth between her sister and her potential bond-mate. Gabby moved next to Harry and they fell into each other's arms, giving and receiving comfort. Finally, Harry looked back over at Fleur.

"Why?" he said simply.

She seemed at a loss for words now. The gravity of what she'd done appeared to be sinking in.

"Why would you initiate a Desmi with me? Why would you do this to me? —to Gabby? —to your own sister?"

Fleur opened her mouth but closed it again without saying anything.

"Answer me," he said quietly but forcefully.

She mumbled something that sounded more French than English.

"I'm not in the mood for games, Fleur," he said. "Why did you do it?"

"Because I need to orgasm!" she finally said.

Harry blinked and his brow furrowed. That was not the answer he was expecting.

"Come again?" he said.

"Ever since zat day in ze classroom when you used your 'pull' on me," she said, refusing to look either of them in the eye, "I 'ave been. . . bander. . . excité ." She looked over at her sister—though not in the eye. "How do you say. . .?" she asked.

"Randy," Gabby translated.

"Ah, Oui ," said Fleur. "And I have not been able to make myself climax." She looked down in embarrassment, it was apparently sinking in that she'd done a very ill conceived and permanent thing for a very stupid reason.

Harry felt his anger rising again. She had had the nerve—the audacity—to bind herself to him—and him to her—because she couldn't bring herself off? Images of the Veela council telling her what a stupid, self-centred little slut she was flitted unbidden through his mind. He gripped Gabby tighter in an effort to calm himself. Fleur just seemed unsure about whether or not she should even move. Finally, after a few moments, Harry and Gabby pulled apart a bit.

"Fleur," he said. "I think Gabby and I need to have a conversation. Why don't you go stand by the door." He jerked his head towards the door to the dorm. Fleur reached for her robes which had been abandoned at the foot of the bed. "No," he said, stopping her in her tracks. "Leave the robes. Go stand there as you are." She gulped but did as he asked.

After Fleur was outside the silencing charm, Harry said, "So, what do you think?"

There was a long pause before Gabby replied.

"I don't know," she said. "Part of me—a very large part—says you should reject the Desmi. I can't believe she would willingly do something so dangerous. And for such a selfish, stupid, pointless reason." She sighed heavily. "But, while you're wrong about me coming to hate you—I could never hate you, Master—I can't say that I want her to die. She is my sister after all and I love her dearly. I hate that she's placed this on you, Master." She paused and took a deep breath. "I'm ashamed for her."

Harry nodded and, though she couldn't see it the way they were holding each other, he knew she could feel it.

"Ultimately," she said after a few minutes of quiet contemplation, "it is your decision. You are the one she will be bonded to. While I'll have to live with her, knowing what she did, you will be the one most affected."

"True," he said. He thought for a few moments more before continuing. "I'll complete the Desmi." He sighed and pulled away from Gabby so that he could look her in the eyes. He smirked at her. "But she's not going to enjoy it like she thinks she will."

Gabby grinned evilly back at him. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "There's nothing that says she has to orgasm for the Desmi to form. I don't see anything wrong with a little punishment. During and after."

"Oh, I'm going to make sure that she regrets her actions for a long while, I think," he said. He started to stick his head out the curtain but paused, looked over his shoulder at Gabby and said, "Follow my lead," before he did so.

"Fleur," he whispered. He crooked his finger at her when she responded to his voice. She'd been looking around the room at the other beds as though expecting one of the boys to jump out and attack her, all the while trying to cover herself with her hands. But she was, in fact, standing right where he'd ordered her to stand. She wasted no time in sprinting silently over to the bed and climbing back in.

"OK," said Harry, "this is how it's going to go." She sat back on her knees and listened carefully. There was a definite look of fear in her eyes. "We are going to complete the Desmi," he went on. She sagged in relief and a smile began to spread across her face. "But," he said loudly, catching her attention and calling a halt to her smile. "That doesn't mean you aren't to be punished for what you've done." She gulped but nodded.

"The reason you initiated the Desmi was because you wanted to come," he said. She was apparently right there with him as her eyes suddenly went very wide. "So, from now until the Desmi is complete, you are not to allow yourself to orgasm. Understand? No matter how much you want it—no matter how badly you need it—you will deny yourself the pleasure of release." He saw her fighting a smirk, obviously thinking that she could get away with disobeying him. He lowered his voice and continued dangerously, "Because if I even think you've let yourself climax, I'll stop and hand you over to the council." She no longer had to fight off the smirk.

"If you zink I will agree to your leetle demand," she said irritably, "you can forget it. I will not be treated so." She turned sideways so that she was no longer facing him and crossed her arms under her naked breasts. If she thought she could control the situation in which she found herself, however, she was greatly mistaken. Harry reached out, grabbed her arm, tossed her onto her back and was instantly on top of her, between her legs, pinning her to the bed.

"Let's get one thing straight, you stupid bint," he growled in her face, ignoring her startled exclamation at being treated so roughly. "You initiated this Desmi without my consent which means you have already agreed to every demand I might make of you. The alternative, as has already been pointed out to you, is death. You have no say in how I treat you." He moved closer to her and lowered his voice to an angry whisper. "And right now, I have no desire to treat you well at all. If you don't like it, you know where the door is."

She fought against him but lacked the leverage to push him off of her.

"You could not send me to die, you 'ave already said zis."

"Are you willing to bet your life?" he asked.

She hesitated but nodded.

"Fine," he said. "Gabby, go wake Hermione, have her go to Dumbledore; I'll need some place to be kept safe from the rest of the students until this Desmi is gone. Then go get Hedwig; I need to write a letter to the Veela council." Gabby nodded and moved to climb out of the bed. Fleur's eyes went wide.

"Wait!" she cried. "You cannot do zis!"

"Fleur," he responded with a feigned exasperation, "You've made your choice. Don't worry, it'll all be over in a few days, I'm sure."

" Non !" she said. "'Ow can you be so cold?" The fight had gone completely out of her. She seemed resigned to her fate.

"Cold?" he asked sounding shocked. "Fleur, I gave you a choice. You either accept my demands and follow my instructions or it's off to the Veela council with you."

"Zat is no choice!" she exclaimed.

"It's more of a choice than you gave me!" he yelled. She quailed beneath him. He turned to Gabby who had stopped at the edge of the bed. "Go do as I said. She's made her choice."

" Non !" Fleur said, the desperation in her voice clearly evident. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes as though in shame. " D'accord, d'accord. I will do what you say." Gabby stopped moving again. "I will do anyzing you ask of me."

Harry moved off of Fleur and ordered her to sit cross-legged at the head of the bed. She was allowed to touch herself any way she wanted, but he reminded her she was not allowed to come. Harry then positioned himself over Gabby and, watching Fleur intently, slowly drove into her pussy. Harry was so worked up by this point that it was only a couple of minutes before he was spilling himself inside her, his eyes never leaving Fleur. The intense scrutiny was clearly having an effect on the older Veela as she was fingering her dripping folds furiously and moaning constantly.

Harry slowed his thrusting as he came but never stopped completely. Gabby was writhing beneath him, very close to her own release. Fleur, he noticed was panting and rubbing her clit and starting at Harry with glazed eyes.

"Don't come," he said, drawing her attention away from her twitching sex. Her hand stopped immediately and she bit her lip, looking frightened.

Harry felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he picked the pace of his thrusting back up. A few more seconds of hard pounding and Gabby threw her head back and cried out with a long "hughn" sound as he came on his cock. Fleur's hand moved back between her legs seemingly of it's own accord.

Twice more, Harry spilled himself inside his little sex toy, occasionally getting Fleur's attention as she was on the edge of her orgasm. He had to admit, she seemed to be accepting her fate rather well as she genuinely appeared contrite and determined to follow his orders each time.

Finally, Harry stopped and pulled out of Gabby. He bent down and whispered a command in her ear and she hastened to obey, leaving Harry and Fleur alone.

"All right, Fleur," Harry said with a malevolent grin. "Now it's time to really test your willpower." She looked nervous as she awaited his instructions. She somehow managed to look not only desperate to come, but desperate not to come as well. He checked the time; it was nearly 12:30. "I'm going to fuck you non-stop until 1:30 before I finally complete the bond." Her eyes lit up at the prospect. "You are still not allowed to come, remember." She nodded in unresisting acceptance.

He grabbed her legs and pulled her down onto her back and slid up her body. He took his still hard cock and found the entrance of her drenched womanhood. He was far from gentle as he quickly shoved himself inside her. She grunted and bit back a whimper of pain. Perhaps she was a virgin. Or perhaps she was just not used to cock. Or perhaps. . . He couldn't really bring himself to care. He began with long, slow strokes in and out of her tight cunt. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him as though she were drowning and only he could save her.

After a few minutes of sex, she started when the curtain was thrown aside revealing Ginny standing naked with her hands clipped together behind her back and a lead attached to her collar with the other end in Gabby's hand. Fleur took in the sight and groaned as her cunt twitched with excitement. Harry slapped her.

"What did I say about coming, bitch?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I did not come. It was close but I did not."

"slut," he said to Ginny, "get on the bed and put your head near my cock. For the next hour or so, you're going to be drinking most of my come." Gabby unclipped the girl's hands and the lead and Ginny quickly did as ordered. Gabby climbed back in the bed and pulled the curtain closed again. She pulled Fleur's arms from around her Master and positioned herself on her back on top of her sister with her cunt near his pistoning cock and her neck resting between the older girl's breasts, telling Harry it was so he could pretend he was fucking her. Harry smiled at her and gave her a steamy kiss.

A few thrusts later and his cock twitched. He pulled out and shoved it into Ginny's eagerly waiting mouth. As soon as he was spent, he pushed himself right back into Fleur and continued. Fleur, he noticed had busied herself fondling her own breasts. A smile twisted his lips as he knocked her hands away.

"Stop that," he said. She looked at him with an expression that was half confused, half lust-addled. He took one of her hands and placed it on Gabby's chest and looked at her expectantly. She picked up the message fairly quick and blushed a bit as she started caressing her younger sister's chest. The sight of Fleur Delacour running her hands over her own sister's chest made his already overused cock twitch inside her.

He reached down and found Gabby's arousal-slicked folds and began teasing her. She moaned and writhed on her sister at the dual stimulation. She hunched her crotch up repeatedly, occasionally coming into contact with Harry's abdomen. Her hands fisted in her hair as the sensation of three hands touching her so intimately along with the pleasure she felt through the bond from Harry drove her over the edge. She grabbed Harry around the neck and pulled him down into a scorching kiss.

He lost his balance and fell, sandwiching Gabby between him and her sister. He pulled his hand away from her pussy and moved it around to her arse, stroking and kneading the firm flesh as their tongues duelled furiously. They ignored Fleur's complaints that the both of them together were too heavy for her. He kept thrusting away into the older girls spasming cunt as he imagined it was the younger of the two he was fucking.

"Shut up, bitch," he snarled at Fleur as her complaints finally became too much to ignore. She clamped her mouth shut immediately.

For quite some time they went on this way, Harry finally giving Fleur a bit of a reprieve as he began supporting himself on his knees and one hand, whilst the other touched and teased and caressed Gabrielle in any way it could. Twice more he pulled out of Fleur and dumped his come into Ginny's welcoming mouth.

Harry, feeling that Fleur wasn't being humiliated enough, had Ginny move around and ordered the two girls to kiss. Ginny responded to the order straight away, of course, but Fleur was reluctant. Harry reached down and pinched the flesh of her hip and reminded her that she had no choice in the matter if she wanted to avoid the council. Fleur closed her eyes and did as she was told, kissing Harry's sex slave and allowing the girl's tongue in her mouth as she did the opposite. Harry, nearly exhausted but determined to continue, pulled his cock from Fleur's cunt and spilled himself once again, this time in Gabby's pussy. Gabby kissed him hard and came on his thrusting cock as he did so.

After a few more minutes, Harry had Fleur licking Ginny's arsehole, much to her disgust and Ginny's happiness.

"Master," said Ginny who'd been fingering her own sex throughout most of the encounter, "may I come?"

"Make sure you come on her face," he replied.

Her bond took the statement as permission and the third-year smeared her rushing fluids all over the blond girls mouth and nose. As soon as she came down from her climax, she returned her anal pucker to within reach of the Veela's tongue. Fleur whimpered in disgust even as she licked and sucked at the girl's sphincter.

Harry found himself growing tired so he decided to ramp up Fleur's humiliation even further. Ginny was set to fondling the older girl's breasts as Gabby was directed to lay on her back with her crotch near her sister's head. Fleur was turned on her side and commanded to lick her sister's cunt and bring her to orgasm. Harry meanwhile, continued thrusting away at the Veela's overstimulated sex. He was truly impressed that she'd managed to prevent herself from coming this long as she'd clearly been on the verge countless times.

He watched in fascination as the 17-year-old worked diligently to bring her eight-year-old sister to climax with her mouth and tongue. It was certainly a unique experience even for Harry who had seen so much in the past five days. He was reminded once again of the fact that he had yet to taste his little sex toy's cunt directly. He would have to remember to do that soon.

He reached down started teasing the older girl's clit with his fingers, lubing them up with her copious fluids. She stopped licking her sister and looked up at him.

"Please, 'Arry," she said piteously. "I am too close—"

"I didn't tell you to stop licking," he told her, cutting her pleading off. He could feel her cunt twitching around him and see her concentrate—even as she pleasured her little sister—on stopping herself coming. Harry could feel Gabby getting close and it was driving him closer as well. Perhaps it was the taboo of watching incest, perhaps it was the thrill of having his will forced on the older girl with her helpless to stop it. Whatever it was, he found the sight erotic.

"That's right, bitch," he said. "Lick your sister. Suck on her cunt. Taste her juices."

Gabby was mewling and Harry was beginning to feel that tightening of his bollocks that signalled his impending release. Too late he realised that Ginny was too far away for him to spend himself in her mouth. He did the next best thing in his opinion: further humiliate Fleur. He pulled out of her at the last minute and moved up closer to Gabby. He stroked himself a couple of times and unloaded, aiming at the bitch's face. His orgasm triggered Gabby's and she cried out as it washed over her.

The first shot of his come landed in Fleur's silver-blond hair. The second hit just above her left eye. The third arced through the air and landed perfectly on her tongue just as Gabby's cunt convulsed in pleasure forcing a big glob of his sperm, which he'd deposited inside her earlier, to come squirting out of the young girl hitting the same spot. Fleur instinctively pulled her tongue back into her mouth and swallowed. Harry and Gabby's climaxes finished running their course as a grey glow enveloped Fleur's head, running down her body and then spreading to encompass both Harry and Gabrielle before dissipating.

Harry and Gabby looked at each other in shock.

"Did that just happen?" Gabby asked.

Harry had no answer. He watched as Fleur sat up on her knees and ducked her head submissively. Ginny continued to fondle the girl's breasts having been given no other order. Harry told her to stop.

He reached for Fleur's robes not knowing exactly what to expect. Surprisingly, nothing happened. Shocked, he held the robes out and Gabby reached to touch them as if to see if they were indeed still robes. The moment her fingers connected with them however, there was a flare of magic and several objects—a collar, a two metre long lead, a short length of chain, a leather riding crop and two leather objects that he couldn't immediately identify—dropped to the bed. The unknown objects appeared to be simple leather rectangles with a leather lace threaded through holes running down either side and a metal clip on each end. Fleur made no move to put them on or even ask if she could. Nor did she make any move to retrieve her wand which had apparently been in her robes and now lay with the other items.

Harry picked up the collar and looked at it. It was similar to Gabby's, Ginny's and Hermione's in that it was the same size and thickness. Where the medallion was on Gabby's, however, there was merely a metal ring, obviously for the lead. Under the ring, hanging loosely from a small metal link was a metal tag—Harry reckoned it was iron—with a double "P" on it. He looked at Gabby and showed her the tag.

"I think she's ours ," he said.

"I think you're right, Master," Gabby said sounding stunned.

Gabby placed the collar on Fleur's neck and then picked up the leather rectangles. After looking at them for a moment, she took one of Fleur's hands and slid her arm into it, and then laced it up. It covered her entire forearm from elbow to wrist and, with the laces on the inside of her arm as they were, the clips ended up on the underside of her arm. Gabby repeated the process with the other piece. Harry wondered aloud what purpose they served and in seconds, Gabby had forced Fleur's arms behind her back and had the clips locked together, one at the wrist, one at the elbow. Fleur's arms were immobile and she was totally exposed and vulnerable. Harry found it hard to tear his eyes away from her.

"What kind of Desmi is it?" he asked. "Do you know?"

"I forget what it's called and the details," Gabby said. "We can ask Hermione in the morning, but I think she's our. . . pet."

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .Being Observed

After they'd sent Ginny back to her own bed, the remaining trio fell asleep with Harry holding Gabby in his arms and Fleur curled up at the foot of his bed.

In the morning, after Hermione came up to wake them and help get Harry ready for the day, they asked about the new Desmi.

"The iron tag on her collar indicates that it's a Desmi Theros," she explained. "She's your Meli or Pet. The book didn't say anything about two Masters, however. And nothing at all about a Sub also being a Master to a Pet. There's also nothing about two females in a Desmi. Or a three-way Desmi. I find it difficult to believe that the book could be that thorough if it leaves out something that significant. I would be happy to check some other books if you'd like, Master." She looked at her Master with such a hopeful expression.

Harry sighed. He looked down at Fleur, who was still curled up at the foot of the bed. He then looked at Gabby and then back to Hermione.

"Not just now," he said, making his decision. "I want you to go to the Library this morning and find anything you can in the Hogwarts by-laws that allow or disallow our little. . . situation."

"Master," she said. "I will follow your orders of course, but I already know that it is not against the rules. I took the liberty of checking last night."

Harry smiled at her. "Of course you did," he said, his tone indicating his pride. "I shouldn't have expected anything less from my Hermione."

She beamed at his praise.

"In that case," he continued, "Hermione, I want you to go wake slut and then the two of you join us in the showers." Hermione smiled, clearly happy about being allowed to perform her function at last. She immediately turned and headed for the door. "Oh, and Hermione," he added. She turned back.

"Yes, Master?" she asked.

Harry concentrated and made Ginny unnoticeable.

"Have her leave her clothes there. She'll be naked today."

Gabby threw her arms around Harry and hugged him tightly.

"There's something different, this morning, isn't there, Master," she asked.

He nodded against her head. "I think there is," he said. "I feel different. More accepting, if that makes any sense."

She pulled back and look him in the eye as though trying to discern his meaning.

"You know how I feel about you," he said, trying to clarify. She nodded tentatively. "Ever since that day that I was stupid and almost lost you I've tried to show you that I not only accept, but love you." She leaned back in and squeezed him. "But the others were unexpected and something of a shock in their own way. I think it took me a while to come to terms with them. That's why I kept sending Ginny and Hermione to their classes."

"But now?" she prompted.

"I don't know for sure," he said, "but something's changed. I want to walk down the halls with my girls beside me. All of them. Even—" He jerked his head at their latest acquisition. "Which reminds me. . ." He turned to Fleur. "Get up." Fleur was instantly on her knees with her chin on her chest. Harry put his hand on her shoulder. "From now on, until I say different, your name is Bitch, understand?" The newly christened Bitch nodded without looking up.

Gabby watched as Harry pulled her arms behind her back and clipped them together. He found it surprisingly easy. He then retrieved her lead and clipped it to her collar. He handed Gabby the lead whilst he slipped on his boxers and dressing gown. Then He took it back and tugged gently.

"Come along, Bitch," he said. She followed the pair, shoulders back and breasts thrown out because of the clips holding her arms behind her, but her chin still rested on her chest. Harry stopped her.

"Are you ashamed, Bitch?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Then hold your head up," he said. "Be proud that you're a pet."

She did as he commanded. He had to admit to himself that a naked Fleur Delacour on a lead was fairly arousing, whatever his feelings for her had been over the past few days. He gently pulled again and they continued their way to the showers.

To say that Hermione was delighted to be included in Harry's morning ritual would be an understatement. Once she had arrived with the naked Ginny—and then retrieved Harry's shower kit which he'd forgotten back in his room—she took great pleasure in disrobing Harry and setting his shower to the proper temperature. She then disrobed, took his soap and a sponge and began to lather him from head to toe.

To say that Harry was dubious about allowing Hermione to help him shower would be an understatement. Once she was soaping him up, however, all his hesitation flew right out the window. Her hands were soft and smooth and her touch delicate. She lovingly washed every part of his body, even the parts that, as a boy, he tended to neglect. There was nothing sexual in the way she performed her duty, but to imply that there was nothing sensual about it would be a lie. The distinction between those two words was something that Harry had never given any thought previously and even now, as he grew hard as a result of her careful ministrations, he was having a difficult time doing so.

Noticing his condition, Gabby dropped to her knees in front of him and took his soap covered cock deep into her mouth. The sensation of her writhing tongue and the moist heat of her mouth combined with the extra slipperiness provided by the soap had him biting his lip to keep control.

As the euphoria of the sudden pleasure that had threatened to overwhelm him slipped into what was, for Harry, becoming a standard, pleasurable round of fellatio, Harry looked down and the girl attached to his cock. He smiled in wonder at her enthusiasm.

"Not that I don't appreciate it," he said, "because I really do, but doesn't the soap taste bad?"

It was not Gabby that answered, however.

"As a Veela," said Hermione without missing a caress of his body, "she has the ability to neutralize most foreign substances that enter her body during sexual acts. It's a defence mechanism."

"Ah, that would explain how she can give a blow job after. . ." The image caught up with him and he couldn't finish the sentence.

". . .after you've buggered someone?" supplied Hermione.

"That's what I was trying not to think about, yeah," he said.

"Sorry, Master," she replied.

Gabby redoubled her efforts on his cock as though to make him forget about the previous conversation. Not surprisingly, it worked as all Harry was aware of were the lips, tongue, mouth and throat that were driving him towards his first orgasm of the day.

Hermione, now finished washing Harry, had simply moved on to washing Gabby, diligently lathering her even as she rested on her knees with a cock in her mouth. In one of his more lucid moments—as the pleasure of Gabby's expertise kept driving Harry's eyes farther back than they normally went—he noticed that Ginny had taken it upon herself to wash Bitch. Although she washed every part of Harry and Gabby's new pet, she seemed much more interested in cleaning the girl's more sensitive parts, paying particular attention to the blonds cunt. There seemed to be something off about Bitch's reactions however.

"You like that, Bitch?" he asked of the girl. "You like what she's doing to you?"

Bitch looked at him with a glazed look and there was no hesitation before she nodded, but still, something was off. He just couldn't put his finger on it. He was distracted, however, as Gabby chose that moment to take him down her throat and swallow repeatedly. The action sent him over the tipping point and he had to brace himself on her shoulders when his knees threatened to give way as he unloaded straight down her throat. He took a moment, relaxing under the spray of the shower to recover from that wonderful climax. The look on his face and the reactions of his body were all the thanks that Gabby needed.

After a job well done, Gabby stepped into the streaming water and rinsed herself off. She then took over for Ginny who was now being washed by Hermione and rinsed Bitch off. Harry moved over next to Gabby and slid his hand in between Bitch's legs, cupping her sex. He fondled and stroked and caressed but something was somehow off about her. He asked Gabby if she noticed anything. She didn't

"It's because she's a Meli," said Hermione matter of factly without her hands so much as pausing in their movements over Ginny's smooth skin. At Harry's prompting, she continued. "Fleur is a pet—"

"Bitch," interrupted Gabby. "Her name is now Bitch."

"Oh," said Hermione, accepting the new name without question. "Bitch is a pet. According to the book, she's something to be used, mocked, humiliated and denigrated. She's considered nearly sub-human. You—or anyone for that matter, with your permission—may have sexual contact with her, but she will feel no pleasure in it. She is incapable of arousal or orgasm. She knows how to fake the signs of pleasure and arousal and can imitate arousal and orgasm perfectly, including the release of vaginal fluid, but it is an act on her part.

"So, why is it that Master noticed and I didn't," asked Gabby. "I'm a sex toy. Sex is instinct to me—like breathing. It didn't look like she was faking to me."

"You can't tell because she can fake it so perfectly," said Hermione. "The only reason that you, Master, can tell is because you're a Tyrannos. You can sense what will most arouse any partner at any given time and that helps drive your desire. Since a Meli cannot become aroused, what you normally sense from a partner is missing. I would imagine she seems a bit less than human to you. Am I right, Master?"

Harry looked at Bitch, now clean and dripping wet. He realized with a shock that what Hermione said was true. He felt nothing from her. It was subtle, something he likely would have never noticed had she not pointed it out to him, but she was right nevertheless.

"I think you're right as usual, Hermione," he said. He felt bad on some level for admitting it, but Bitch didn't seem to care one way or the other.

"That's just perfect," said Gabby as Hermione guided Ginny out of the shower and began towelling her off.

"What's that?" he asked as he stepped out of the shower himself. He reached for a towel, but Hermione immediately abandoned Ginny and took his towel and began drying him. He was obviously her priority. She would serve the others willingly and without being asked, but she would always serve him first. He realized he liked that.

"The reason my sister initiated the Desmi was because she wanted to come," Gabby explained. "You wouldn't let her come during the completion and now that she's a Meli, she'll never come again."

Hermione diligently towelled off everyone in the room (though simply casting a drying charm on herself) except Gabby, who refused to be dried as normal.

"Master likes it when I'm dripping wet," she said before prancing off to the dorm.

The rest of the group followed along in her wake and, after arriving at his wardrobe, Harry had to insist that, although he didn't mind Hermione selecting his clothes for the day—especially since all he ever wore was standard Hogwarts black—he was more that capable of dressing himself. There were just some things that Hermione would likely never do for him.

Once he was dressed—Hermione being the only other dressed person in the group, and she had simply put her diaphanous blue robes back on before they'd left the showers—they made their way down to breakfast, Gabby holding tight to Bitch's lead.

Harry expected to make waves walking into the great hall trailing a nearly naked Hermione Granger, not to mention Fleur Delacour nude and on a lead, but he received no more attention than he normally did. Even the professors already present at the staff table seemed to see nothing out of place with the entourage making their way down one side of the Gryffindor table.

Hermione—who sat on one side of Harry, whilst Gabby sat on the other and Ginny and Bitch sat on either side of them—insisted on serving Harry breakfast which simply meant that she fixed his plate for him. He was grateful that she didn't try to feed him as well.

Never a morning person, Ron stumbled into the Hall with only fifteen minutes before class and loaded up his plate with enough food for three people. Harry watched him carefully but he seemed to pay Hermione not attention at all and failed to even notice Fleur. Harry still had Ginny unnoticeable and, of course, Gabby did nothing to call attention to herself. After Ron and Harry said good morning to each other, Harry left for History of Magic—trailed by his girls, of course. Ron said that he'd be there in a few minutes.

On their way up the stairs to the first floor, Harry turned to Hermione.

"I don't remember you saying anything about a Meli being unnoticeable," he said.

"It wasn't in the book, Master," she said. "It's possible that, because she has also has Gabrielle as a Mistress, she may share some of the same. . . attributes."

He thought about it. "Makes sense," he said.

"It's just a theory, Master," she said. "I could do some research if you like."

"Not just now," he said. "After class. I want you with me. You don't mind taking notes for me, do you?"

"Of course not, Master," she said.

"I won't have you do it for every class, but History is a different matter altogether."

Once they were settled in class—sitting nearer the front this time, as he had no plans to finger fuck Gabby to an earth-shattering silent orgasm this time—Hermione pulled parchment, quill and ink from his bag and prepared to take notes. Gabby leaned over and whispered a question in his ear. He nodded at her and beckoned Ginny over.

"Until the end of class," he told her quietly before anyone else had entered the room, "if you need to come, ask me silently, slut. I will nod or shack my head, but you must be silent. Understand?" She nodded.

Gabby handed Bitch's lead to Harry and dragged Ginny up to the front of the classroom, near Binns' desk, where Harry would have a good view of the show.

Slowly, but surely, the other student's began trickling in, each sparing a glance—or more—at the naked Veela standing near Harry Potter. Harry wasn't sure why, but she seemed to be noticeable now, though none of the students showed any emotion beyond curiosity or mild, fleeting surprise, however, which surprised Harry just as much as the fact that they saw her at all. He reckoned that they simply saw her as his pet and not the naked, alluring Veela that she actually was. Harry pulled his pet down so that she was sitting on his left leg, facing the front of the class.

As Binns drifted through the blackboard and began the lesson for the day, Harry's attention drifted over to the two girls a few feet to the ghostly professor's right. Ginny was lying on her back with her legs spread wide and Gabby was lying on top of her in the opposite direction. Each was slowly and casually licking the other girl's pussy—licking lips, kissing flesh, teasing clits. The fact that it was happening in the middle of a class made it all the more erotic. Harry found himself sliding his fingers through Bitch's delicate folds, just enjoying the feel of pussy sliding beneath his hands.

"Mr. Perkins, I must ask you why you have that creature sitting on your lap," said Binns to Harry in one of his more cognizant moments.

Feeling bold, partially from whatever switch had been thrown in his brain the previous night and also because of the gratuitous sex act being performed practically right under Binns' nose, not to mention the naked, willing, and rather sexy girl allowing him to publicly fondle her most private parts, he replied, "She's my pet, sir. I just got her. It's a bonding thing, sir. It won't be all the time. I promise."

Binns seemed somewhat less than satisfied with his response, but acceded all the same, returning to his monotonous tales of bloodthirsty goblins and hapless, innocent witches and wizards.

Ginny and Gabby hadn't let the pellucid professor interrupt their reciprocal stimulation. Gabby was using one of her hands to stroke along the fleshy outer lips of the girl beneath her, driving Ginny to rake her fingernails across the Veela's lower back leaving angry red lines criss-crossing porcelain skin. Far from deterring the girl, it seemed to spur her on to increase her lover's pleasure.

Harry was rock hard and wishing he could join them. His hand had begun slipping fingers into his pet's slippery sex of their own accord, the sight before him forcing all other thought from his mind. Next to him, Hermione's note taking was completely ignored, and, though no one in the class was even glancing at the young woman seated on his lap, they could have been drooling over her and masturbating for all he noticed.

He watched as Ginny appeared to take an interest in Gabby's arsehole. He couldn't tell for sure at the angle the were lying, but it appeared that the redhead was driving at least one finger into the younger girls back door. In response, the tempo of Gabby's tongue as it danced across the sex slave's cunt increased dramatically. She began plunging two fingers in and out of the girl's now dripping sex, delighting in lapping up the copious fluid that the motion of her fingers and tongue prompted.

Bitch's most intimate flesh was becoming hot and almost too wet. Harry took to licking his fingers off regularly in a futile and not very practical attempt to dry out the Veela's sex. He was pleasantly surprised that Bitch tasted very much like her sister—very sweet and nowhere near as musky as some of the other girls he'd tasted.

Binns droned on, Hermione's quill scratched and skipped its way across the parchment and students daydreamed and dozed and drooled on their desks as Harry saw Ginny raise her head so that she could see him. Her "May I come, Master?" was only mouthed and Harry nodded in response. She buried her face in Gabby's crotch and her body twitched and spasmed with her release. Gabby licked and fingered and sucked through it all until it passed and Ginny returned to work on the blond's own pussy.

Gabby was nearing her own release, Harry knew. He could feel it. He feared that when it came, his would accompany it, which would be quite messy and potentially embarrassing. The fact that Bitch's right leg was innocently touching his rigid cock through his robes only increased his problem. Perhaps Ginny or Gabby could slip unnoticed under his robes and suck him off. But for now, all he could do was bite his lip and clamp down on his need to come.

His hand never stopped stimulating her sopping cunt, however. He'd had to slow down his fingering as she was now quite wet, which caused his ministrations to be quite noisy if he wasn't careful. He watched as Gabby's tongue and lips and fingers tried desperately to stimulate Ginny to another orgasm even as the girl lying beneath her attempted to do the same to her. At one point, Gabby stopped her licking and raise her head, panting with arousal and approaching climax. She abandoned the older girl's cunt altogether, raised herself up on one arm and began grabbing and pulling and twisting at her own chest. Harry imagined seizing the girl's nipples and pulling and twisting and making them snap back painfully. Gabby was attempting to do just that.

She used her weight and ground her pussy down on the teasing mouth of her partner trying desperately to eke out that last little bit of stimulation to push her over the edge. She finally raised herself up onto her heels and, with her one hand still abusing her own chest, used her other to pull and pinch her clit. Harry felt a kind of euphoric thrill pass though him as Gabby bit her lip, threw her head back and came all over Ginny's face. He held his breath as his cock throbbed and twitched dangerously but he managed to hold off his orgasm.

The rest of the class passed in a similar fashion, with Gabby and Ginny working themselves into a sexual frenzy—Ginny occasionally asking for permission to come—while Harry did his best to stop himself making a mess, at least with his cock, Bitch was another matter altogether. Hermione paused in her note taking more than once to discreetly dry Harry's robes where Bitch's fluids had soaked them through. By the time the bell had rung, Ginny and Gabby were pleasantly sated and Harry had a raging erection and desperately wanted to shag the closest willing pussy he could find.

Before the quintet left the room, Gabby had taken Bitch's lead from her Master and people seemed to forget that their pet was even there. It seemed to Harry—and Hermione agreed, though she said she would like to research it with Harry's permission—that if Gabby was in control, Bitch went unnoticed but if Harry had control of her, she was merely accepted as the pet of a fellow classmate. They decided to walk Hermione to the library on their way up to Gryffindor tower as Harry had free time until lunch and he was in desperate need of release.

"Hello again, Harry." They were nearing the library when the shy voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned to look at the girl.

"Hello again to you too, Cloyssa," he said with a smile. She was dressed in her Hogwarts uniform of course and her hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. "How've you been?"

She blushed a bit. "Fine," she said. She looked embarrassed and Harry was pretty sure he knew what was on her mind. His suspicions were confirmed when, after a short pause, she leaned close to him and whispered, "I can't get the library out of my mind now."

He grinned and glanced around but the hallways were clear except for the six of them; there were classes going on for most of the school.

"Are you asking for a repeat?" he asked knowingly.

She appeared to fight with her sense of propriety and win. She nodded.

"The library again?" he asked. He noticed Gabby watching the conversation with rapt attention.

"I guess," Cloyssa said. "I just wish there was somewhere a little more. . ." She couldn't seem to bring herself to complete the thought.

"Public?" he offered. "Without being caught?" She nodded vigorously. "Hermione," he said, turning to her. "Would you be so good as to go get my invisibility cloak?"

"Yes, Master," she said, though, instead of heading up the the tower and his trunk, she simply reached into his bag, pulled it out and handed it to him. At his look she said, "My purpose is to make sure you're prepared for anything, Master. An invisibility cloak is useful for many situations."

Cloyssa looked from Hermione to Harry and back a few times. "Master?" she asked.

"It's a long story," he said.

"I belong to him," Hermione supplied.

". . .Which gets even more confusing if you try to shorten it," Harry said.

"Hermione," he continued, "go ahead to the library. Gabby, take Ginny and Bitch up to the dorm."

Hermione departed with a "Yes, Master."

Gabby, however, handed Bitch's lead to Ginny and instructed her to go up to the dorm. "There's no way I'm missing this a second time, Master," she said.

"Gabby, we'll be under the cloak, you won't be able to see us and it won't fit three." Technically, that was a lie as he, Ron and Hermione had been under the cloak together more than once. However, with the need to move underneath it whilst having sex, plus the imperativeness of not being caught, meant that it just couldn't be done. Cloyssa was watching the interchange with a bemused expression.

"I don't have to be under the cloak," she said. "No one is going to notice me."

"You won't be able to see anything though," he said. "We'll be under an invisibility cloak."

"I don't care, Master," she said. "I want to come."

"After all that coming you did in History of Magic?" Cloyssa's eyes went wide and Gabby blushed.

"You know what I mean," she said determinedly.

"All right," he said. He turned to Cloyssa. "So, where did you have in mind?" he asked cheekily.

The Ravenclaw seemed to take a moment to get her brain working after listening to that conversation. She pointed at Gabby. "Is she going to watch us?" Harry simply grinned and nodded. Cloyssa's own grin slowly turned lusty. "How about right here?"

Harry threw the cloak over them.

"No, wait!" she said. He pulled the cloak back. "I have an idea. . ."

What eventually happened was that Harry slipped into a disused classroom and stripped, stuffing his clothes in his bag and donning the cloak. The bag he had hidden under a dusty desk back in the corner of the room. Harry and Gabby then followed Cloyssa to the Ravenclaw common room and over to the stairs to the girls dorms. Cloyssa slipped up to her dorm, stripped herself and, when it was clear, sneaked back down the stairs to Harry and the safety of the cloak. She was quite lovely, he noticed as he took in her naked body for the first time—ample breasts on her average frame, flaring hips, tight, flat stomach, and a mound of light brown pubic hair that, while clearly untrimmed, covered only a small patch just above her labia. The pair then made their way over to stand in front of the couch where Gabby had planted herself and was already running her hand over her bald little cunt.

Cloyssa looked over at Gabby and watched her finger her pussy for a few seconds before turning and attacking Harry's lips with her own.

"You have no idea just how hot this makes me," she breathed once the kiss was broken.

Harry slipped a hand down and gently cupped her already very aroused sex.

"I think I have some idea," he said cheekily. He looked around at the common room. It was by no means full as most of the Ravenclaws were in various classes or the library, but apparently the fifth and third years had a free period as there were several from each group quietly studying.

Cloyssa was looking at Gabby again, and breathing hard. "How is it that she can be doing that and nobody sees her?" she asked.

"Gabby can't be noticed unless something calls attention to her," he replied. She looked dubious—despite the evidence in front of her—without taking her eyes off the self-pleasuring girl.

"If that's true," she whispered, "then I envy her."

"Really?" Harry said into her ear. "Right now you're standing naked in the middle of your common room about to have sex where anyone could bump into us, or hear us. The cloak could slip and give us away. And the cloak isn't perfect." She looked at him with wide, hungry eyes. "I know for sure that professor Moody can see right—" He kissed her cheek. "—through—" He kissed her mouth. "—it." He kissed her neck. She stifled a moan.

"Take me, Harry," she said huskily. "Fuck me right here, right now."

He took his cock in hand but instead of placing it at the entrance to her cunt, slipped in between her thighs. He pushed so that it slid along her dripping sex and poked out from her legs beneath her arse cheeks. At the same time, he moved his hands around and allowed them to glide softly over her thighs and arse and hips, tickling and teasing and titillating. Cloyssa gasped as he lowered his head and nuzzled her neck, kissing and licking and gently sucking—not enough to leave a mark but certainly enough to send chills flitting through her body. She buried her own face in his neck and bit it to keep from crying out at the things he was doing to her.

He continued to thrust slowly back and forth with his cock, just lightly grazing her desperate sex and she clung to him and finally lifted her head and looked around the room. He followed her gaze as it moved from Gabby—who's eyes were glazed, her pussy wet and her fingers busy—to a group of her fellow fifth years working on homework near the stairs to the boys dorms, to a pair of third years playing a game of chess, to a lone third year girl apparently reading a newspaper.

She turned back to Harry and stared in his eyes. She didn't need to say anything. Harry simply slipped back a little farther, wedging his cock at her eager entrance. With a gentle push and a shift of his hips he slid inside her. She gasped and one of the chess players looked in their direction. They froze with him throbbing inside and her squeezing him in her excitement. He gripped her arse and kneaded the fleshy globe as the boy regained interest in his game.

"You want to be caught," he said. She shook her head but her eyes displayed overwhelming arousal. "You want someone to come over here and rip this cloak off." He began thrusting into her—slowly, deliberately. "You want all these people to see you being fucked right here in your common room." She wrapped her arms under his and gripped his shoulders tightly. She bit her lip and shook her head again but her eyes were now dancing between the others in the room. "You want them all to see my cock sliding in and out of your cunt." She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly and shakily. Her grip on him tightened. "You want them to see you orgasm—to see your juices flowing down your thighs whilst I fill your hot, tight, slick pussy full of come."

She buried her head in his neck again to stifle a squeal. This time it was the girl with the newspaper that directed her attention towards them. Cloyssa looked up and her eyes seemed to lock with the other girl's—though Harry knew that they couldn't actually be seen. Still he thrust into her slowly, carefully, deeply as she lived out her fantasy of semi-public copulation. He watched the girl's eyes drift from approximately their direction over to the couch where Gabby was now busy sliding three fingers in and out of herself—her smooth, hairless cleft glistening in the light from the windows.

"You think she sees us?" he asked, nodding at the girl. Cloyssa shivered and her cunt spasmed. "You think she knows we're here? You think that she's just being polite and not saying anything?" Cloyssa's inner walls contracted around him suddenly. "You think that she's just watching us, perhaps trying to pick up a few tips?" Cloyssa moaned so softly that Harry barely heard it. She clung tightly to him as her knees were apparently threatening to buckle. "You think she can smell you? Your arousal? Your steaming, twitching cunt? You think she's going to tell all your house mates just how you've been using your common room?"

Cloyssa tried to say something but all that came out was a "shhh" noise as she unexpectedly came. Harry slowed his thrusts a bit, just to keep her orgasm going without overstimulating her. The noise she'd made was louder than Harry would have liked as both chess boys were now looking in their direction. The newspaper girl had gone back to her reading but kept throwing glances towards the couch, apparently convinced that whatever she was hearing was coming from that direction.

Still Cloyssa trembled against him as her climax washed over and through her and he continued to slide and grind into her as her knees shook and threatened to give way. Eventually, her orgasm subsided and she regained her footing so Harry picked up the pace a bit, pushing deep into her with every stroke. Cloyssa planted kisses all over him but watched the others in the room intently.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she breathed. "That was so good. Don't stop." Harry had no intention of stopping. He thrust into her as he caressed her arse with one hand and sought out her breasts with the other. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around him, pulling him even deeper into her depths. He stroked and teased her nipple, gently rolling it between his fingers. He desperately wanted to put his mouth on it and suck, but within the confines of the cloak, such a move was impractical to say the least. He settled for licking up along the artery in her neck. She gasped as he did so and he pulled away instantly.

They looked at each other in fright as her gasp had been rather loud. Newspaper girl, the chess boys and one of the study group were all looking in their direction. They froze and held their breath. Gabby had stopped finger fucking herself as well and had raised her eyebrows in their direction, making lazy circles of her clit with slick fingers. One of the chess boys stood and, never taking his eyes off their general direction, made his way over.

"Lift your other leg," he breathed in her ear. As she did so, he interlocked his fingers under her arse. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she left the ground, wrapped around Harry's waist, still impaled deeply on his cock. He could feel her inner walls rippling and twitching as the boy grew closer. He carefully and slowly walked nearer the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw in an effort to get out of the boy's way.

Cloyssa's breathing was irregular and shallow as the muscles in her belly tensed and relaxed at seemingly random intervals. She may not have wanted to be caught, but the idea certainly excited her. Feeling suddenly bold, he gently pulled, raising her up off his cock a bit only to let her slide back down. She gripped his neck tightly and breathed on his shoulder as she watched the boy snoop around where they'd been standing moments before. Her pussy pulsing and grasping as it was, Harry was afraid that she was going to have another orgasm with her fellow Ravenclaw standing not 5 feet away. The sensations he was feeling was driving him nearer the edge as well.

The boy looked around, occasionally taking a step this way or that, as the others in the room—including Harry, Cloyssa and Gabby—looked on. Again, Harry lifted Cloyssa up an inch or two before dropping her back down on his cock. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. He repeated the motion and her hands clenched into fists and shook with the effort to remain silent.

"You see anything?" the other chess boy asked. There was a moment before the one standing almost within reaching distance of the mating couple looked back and shook his head. Harry lifted and dropped again. Cloyssa bit his shoulder. The boy turned his head and sniffed the air.

"Smells kind of funny, though," he said. Cloyssa's eyes went wide and her pussy clamped down on Harry's invading cock. One of the fifth years stood and walked over, his nose clearly working as he moved his head around.

"Smells like sex," he announced.

Cloyssa's teeth dug into the skin on Harry's shoulder as she came hard, clutching his neck as if her life depended on it. Adrenaline coursed through Harry's veins: he was standing in the Ravenclaw common room, wearing absolutely nothing but an invisibility cloak while an equally naked girl orgasmed around his rigid cock, not more than a step and arm's reach away from two of her fellow house mates. The muscles in her cunt undulated and massaged and teased him to the very brink. He managed to hold off, however; he didn't think he could hold Cloyssa up through his own orgasm and she was currently in no condition to help.

The fifth year sniffed around some more, smelling various pieces of furniture, ending up with the couch on which Gabby was currently sitting.

"I think it's the couch," he said to the group. "Maybe someone got lucky last night." Newspaper girl giggled. Harry wondered if, perhaps she'd been lucky on that couch.

The fifth year had had no way of knowing, of course, but his nose had been less than a hand's breadth away from Gabby's dripping pussy at its closest point. She'd held her breath until he'd stood up and walked away. Now, having been so unbelievably close to being caught masturbating in public like that, the over-sensitive sex toy exploded in her own orgasm, flooding the bond with a sudden wash of pleasure, sending Harry over the edge without warning.

Harry's knees buckled but he somehow kept his feet as his cock throbbed and he spilled himself deep into Cloyssa's still twitching sex. His orgasm seemed to be impossibly long as he kept pumping and pumping his seed up into her channel. Cloyssa must have realized he'd climaxed as she hissed in a breath over her bitten lower lip. Her cunt contracted a few more times but Harry didn't think she'd actually had another orgasm.

She slowly and shakily lowered her legs, taking a moment to find her balance.

"Oh my gods, Harry," she breathed in his ear. "That was perfect." She stood still for a moment, trying to catch her breath and Harry was grateful for the time to catch his own.

Eventually, they worked their way over to the girl's staircase and, making sure that no one was coming, Cloyssa slipped out from under the cloak and darted up the stairs. Even though she moved quickly, there was no mistaking the huge glob of semen dripping down the inside of her right thigh.

A few minutes later, and Cloyssa had returned, fully dressed and looking, to Harry anyway, like she'd just had the shag of her life. She opened the door for them, so that Harry and Gabby could sneak out, then met Harry in the empty classroom he'd used to remove his clothes. Not feeling the need to be modest, he dropped the cloak before reaching for his clothes. Cloyssa was on him in a second, kissing and licking his face and neck and chest.

"That was amazing, Harry!" she exclaimed. He smiled at the ebullient girl.

"Yes, it was," he said. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Liked it? I loved it! It was the best ever!" she said. "Not that there have been many times, but— Oh, wow!" She pulled away from Harry and practically spun in place. "After that little firstie watched us in the library, I'd never though it would be that good again, but this—" She grabbed Harry back in another hug as he was in the middle of slipping his shorts on. "This was better!"

Her enthusiasm was catching and Harry laughed with her. She broke away from Harry and pulled Gabby into a hug.

"And you," she said, "sitting there watching us, but not— And rubbing yourself like that? Oh, gods, I envy you. I'd be fucking all the time, in every public place I could find— In the middle of Diagon Alley right at noon! A Hogsmeade weekend, right on top of Madam Rosmerta's bar! On top of the teacher's table during the welcoming feast!"

Harry had finished dressing and picked up his bag.

"We can do this again, right?" she pleaded, looking at Harry. "Please say we can do this again."

"No promises," he said with a smile. "But I don't see why not. It was pretty exciting."

"And next time," she said, "can we include. . ." She looked at Gabrielle.

"Gabby," Harry supplied.

"Gabby," she said. "Next time can she be, you know, involved ? She looks young and that should be kind of weird, but it isn't."

Harry didn't have to say anything as Gabby just nodded furiously. Cloyssa swept the girl up into another hug and then said goodbye and thanks again to Harry before she left the room.

Both stared at the door for a few moments after she left.

"That girl really likes public sex," said Gabby. Harry could only nod.

As the pair of them entered the common room a few minutes later, Ron handed Harry a note.

"This came for you not too long ago," he said. "Some first year brought it in."

Harry took it, opened it and noted the loopy handwriting.

Mr. Potter,

Some information that concerns you has been brought to my attention. Please come see me in my office as soon as possible.

And do bring your partners with you.

Professor Dumbledore

P. S. The password is Acid Pops.

Harry gulped.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked. "I couldn't open it."

Harry's heart was pounding, despite the fact that Hermione had said that he'd done nothing wrong.

"It's, erm—" He fumbled for something to say. "—private," he finished lamely.

"Come on, Harry," he said. "You can tell me."

"I'd like to, Ron," he said. And he really would have like to have been able to talk about it with his best friend. But how in the world could he explain Ginny? Or Hermione for that matter. And what would Ron say if he discovered the girl he'd drooled over all year—made a fool of himself in front of her asking her to the Yule Ball—was now his pet. Harry knew he'd seen her in History of magic, but like everyone else he seemed to just see her as a pet, not Fleur Delacour. "I just can't. Maybe later."

Ron seemed to accept this, but grudgingly.

"Want to play a game of chess?" he asked hopefully.

"Can't," said Harry. He held up the note. "I have to go. See you at lunch."

Ron just nodded and walked back over towards his chess board, likely hoping to get Neville or Seamus interested in a game.

Harry gestured at Ginny, still holding Fleur's lead, and the four of them set out for the library and Hermione.

Not fifteen minutes later, the quintet found themselves riding the spiral staircase up to the heavy wooden door with the griffin knocker. Harry took a deep, calming breath and Gabby rubbed her hand along his back comfortingly. He reached up to knock but was stopped by a voice on the other side.

"Come in, Harry," called the Headmaster.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside, followed by his girls.

Dumbledore gestured towards a seat in front of his desk and Harry walked over and sat. Gabby seated herself in the chair to his left, directing Bitch to kneel at her feet. Ginny mirrored Bitch's pose but in front of Harry. Hermione stood next to Harry, ready to serve his every need.

Harry looked up at the ageing headmaster and waited for the gavel to fall. He always felt like he'd done something wrong when he was summoned to that office, whether he had or not. Fawkes trilled a long note and flew gracefully over and landed on Harry's leg.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said as he ran his hand over the bird's smooth feathers. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Once Fawkes had flown back to his perch, Dumbledore spoke.

"I think you know why you're here this morning," he said.

Harry made no move to confirm or deny so, after a pause, he continued.

"Imagine my surprise when, as Headmaster of this school, I was notified—very discreetly, I might add—that you had entered into a Veela bond."

Again, Harry made no move of any kind. However, he felt sure that the guilt on his face would be all the confirmation that was needed. Again a pause.

"You are in a Veela bond, are you not?" he asked.

Faced with a direct question, Harry nodded. Dumbledore sighed.

"I must say that I'm disappointed, Harry," he said. "You know that it is against school rules to have sexual relations on these grounds. Or, indeed, at all while school is in session."

Harry felt guilty about all the girls he'd had sex with. His mind kept flitting back to Cloyssa under the cloak. But Dumbledore seemed to be implying that it was wrong to bond with Gabby and that just turned his guilt into anger.

"Why would you do this, Harry?" he asked.

"I didn't have a choice," he said.

"We all have choices," Dumbledore said. "You should have been a better person and put a stop to this before it started."

Gabby glared at the headmaster, but Harry was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"To take advantage of such a young girl—" he continued, but Harry cut him off.

"Professor," he said. "What do you know of the Veela Desmi?"

Dumbledore looked a bit uncomfortable, but answered, "I know that they rarely happen and that their creation requires an act of sexual intercourse."

"Are you also aware that if one is initiated without the other person's consent that it's considered an act of rape and usually results in a death sentence?"

Dumbledore actually looked shocked. "No," he said. "I'll admit that I was not aware of that fact."

"Then, professor," he continued, "let me tell you that Gabrielle did not initiate our Desmi of her own free will. It was a combination of my saving her from the lake and her beginning the Veela version of puberty." Harry flushed a bit partly in embarrassment over discussing something so private with his headmaster and partly because he was angry that the man could be willing to make such decisions without all the facts. "If I hadn't accepted what she'd done and completed the Desmi with her, she'd either be dead now or counting the days."

Dumbledore actually looked quite startled by this.

"Well," he said uncertainly, "if that is indeed the case then I can understand your. . . bond with the little Delacour girl."

"Potter," Harry said. Dumbledore looked confused so Harry clarified. "If you were notified, then you know that her name is Gabrielle Potter."

"Of course," he replied. "I will have to do my own research to verify your story about the consequences of a one-sided bond."

Hermione seemed to be itching to say something so Harry nodded to her.

"Actually professor—" she began.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said as though she'd just entered the room. When he noticed her state of dress, however, he frowned but continued anyway. "So good of you to join us."

"Sir," she said. "My name is Potter as well. It may not be official yet, but I am my Master's property so I share his name."

Dumbledore looked disapprovingly at Harry.

"As I was about to say, Professor," she pressed on, "at my Master's command, I have researched the Veela Desmi and its consequences extensively." She went on to explain all about Veela culture and their views of the Desmi and the punishment for initiating without consent, their views on part-Veela and the fact that non-Veela are not allowed to select method of punishment, resulting in a very painful death for the accused. Gabby was in Harry's lap, shaking and nearly weeping at the end of Hermione's speech, and Harry was doing his best to comfort her.

Dumbledore managed to look slightly abashed at the sight of the emotional Veela but after a few moments, he pressed on.

"Be that as it may," he said carefully, "Judging by Miss Granger—excuse me—Ms. Potter's statement earlier, Miss Delacour was not the only young lady with whom you've— formed a connection, shall we say?"

Harry looked up from Gabby and nodded reluctantly.

"Are there any others?" he asked tiredly.

"Ginny was first, sir," Harry admitted, gesturing down to the girl. Dumbledore started as he first noted the redhead kneeling in front of Harry. "Honestly, we didn't even know it was possible at the time. We thought it had something to do with Ginny's crush on me. But then Hermione. . ." He trailed off, the rest not needing to be spoken aloud. "Her bonding to me was also a surprise." Dumbledore simply nodded, taking in the information without commenting.

"Then, last night, Bi—er, Fleur came to me. . ."

The headmaster seemed to age several years as he noticed the teenage Veela sitting obediently on her heels with a lead firmly attached to her collar and her arms clipped behind her back.

"You bonded with a fellow Tri-Wizard competitor?"

"She had initiated a Desmi with me, also without my consent," Harry replied, "I merely completed it. Her initiation of the bond was intentional, though she didn't seem to be aware of the possible consequences for doing so."

"This will certainly complicate matters," Dumbledore said. "She still has to compete. It's a binding magical contract. There's no way out of it."

"Actually, sir," said Hermione, "She doesn't. A Veela Desmi supersedes even a magical contract. As my Masters property, she cannot enter into any contracts, nor is she subject to any pre-existing contracts, magical or not."

"Does this mean I don't have to compete any more?" Harry asked of Hermione.

"I'm afraid not, Master," she said. "You are a Tyrannos and in full command of your abilities and will. You could, however, choose to have us accompany you during the task as we belong to you."

"Let's not be too hasty," said Dumbledore, holding his hands up. The twinkle had long gone from his eyes. "I'm afraid your connection with Miss Dela— with the Beauxbatons champion—" he corrected, as now she was a Potter, if not officially, "—will likely not be taken well. I will have to break the news to Madame Maxime." He took a breath and looked at Harry again. "But I suppose that is not something you need concern yourself with."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was short lived.

"Now, about the blatant disregard for the rules. . ."

"Rules, sir?" Harry asked.

"You've most obviously had sex on school grounds while school was in session, so, yes, you have indeed broken the rules."

"That's not entirely correct, sir," said Hermione.

Dumbledore looked at the bushy-haired slave.

"My Master obviously had sex with Gabby and Bitch—" Harry flinched and blushed scarlet and Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up but Hermione continued on without pause. "—but they had both initiated a Veela Desmi and, as it is against the law—even in Britain—to interfere with the creation, existence or function of a Desmi, school rules do not apply in that situation."

Dumbledore nodded reluctantly. "But what of yourself and Miss Weas— Ms. Pott—" He closed his eyes for a moment, obviously thrown by the fact that there were four Ms. Potters in the room. "What of yourself and. . . Ginevra? You are not Veela and are therefore not subject to the same laws."

"I'm afraid we are. We are clearly in a Desmi with our Master as he was obviously gifted with the ability to create Desmi with non-Veela. The law does not specifically state that there must be a Veela in the Desmi, only that it, in fact, be a Desmi."

Harry was content to let the two of them hash it out as he was in way over his head. If Hermione could get him out of this without a loss of points or a detention, he'd already promised himself that he would do anything she asked in thanks.

"But you were also obviously not in a Desmi the first time you were. . . intimate on Hogwarts grounds," said Dumbledore.

"On the contrary," said Hermione smoothly, "we cannot be sure of that at all. A normal Veela Desmi requires an initiation and completion. I don't know about Ginny's but mine seemed to be spontaneous. Since it was two humans forming the Desmi, however, and as a human-human Desmi is unprecedented, there may have been an initiation phase that none of us were aware of. If that was the case, then we would fall under the protection of the law and not be subject to school rules."

Dumbledore looked dubious. " If that were the case. There's no proof that it is the case, Miss G—" He sighed. "—Ms. Potter."

"As Chief Warlock of the Wizengammot, I would think that you would be willing to err on the side of caution. The only way to prove that there is no initiation phase is to have my Master try to form another Desmi and have someone attempt to detect the initiation."

"Out of the question!"

"Then, sir, you will agree that it is best for all concerned that these incidents of sexual contact be allowed—or at least ignored—in this instance."

The headmaster sat for what seemed to Harry to be a very long time looking at the collection of people arrayed in front of him. Finally, he slumped down as though defeated.

"Very well," he said. Harry thought he just might faint. Here Dumbledore had concrete evidence that Harry had had sex against school rules and he was getting away with it! "However, I cannot allow you to simply have sex with just anyone. You must restrict your activities to your bond-mates alone. Understood?"

Harry was just about to nod, accepting this small concession for what amounted to a free pass from what would likely have been his greatest punishment to date, when Hermione spoke again.

"Actually, sir," she said. "The law still applies. The nature of My Masters first Desmi increases his sex drive and allows him to. . . attract the opposite sex. It is now in his nature to bed numerous females. Restricting his ability to do so could conceivably fall under the law prohibiting interference with the function of a Desmi."

"That's pushing it."

"We could always take it before the Wizengammot, sir," she said.

This time, Harry was sure he was going to faint. Hermione had just suggested that he and his assorted bond-mates drag his sex life out before dozens of strangers! Perhaps even the public! Was she insane? Too afraid to actually say anything at the moment, he shot her a look that, in his mind, clearly said that they were going to talk about this later. So deep in shock was Harry that he almost missed the headmaster's reply.

"That won't be necessary," he said. He turned to Harry. "I trust you can be discreet?" Harry nodded, still too afraid to speak and perhaps break the spell Dumbledore must be under to agree to this. "I will arrange for a suite of rooms in the Married Quarters section to be opened for you. They haven't been used in over a hundred years, so I'm not sure how long it will take before they're ready. Can you confine your. . . activities to them once you've been moved?" Harry nodded again. Dumbledore sighed as though defeated. "Do an old man a favour, Harry," he said.

"Of course, sir," Harry replied quietly.

"Don't go looking for partners?"

"I promise, sir," he said.

"I'll take care of filing the status of your new. . . acquisitions with the Ministry. Do not worry, I will endeavour to be discreet."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"And I'll figure out some way to break the news to the Weasleys and the Grangers. I believe you can handle informing the Delacours about their eldest daughter?"

He nodded again.

"Anything else, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry thought for a moment, then decided to voice what he'd been thinking since the night before. "Yes," he said. "Hermione and Ginny will no longer be students here."

Dumbledore looked as though he'd been expecting it and merely nodded in acceptance.

After they were dismissed, it took several minutes for it to sink in. He had not only got away with having sex in the castle, but he was actually given permission to continue to do so as long as he didn't go looking for it. In truth, he hadn't had to look for it yet, girls had come looking for him.

"Hermione," he said, turning to her as they descended to the sixth floor on their way to lunch in the Great Hall, "you were brilliant!" He pulled her into a hug which she eagerly returned. "I can't believe you got him to agree to all that!"

"Thank you, Master," she said blushing at his praise. "But it was the truth. The law does exist and it could be interpreted that way."

"Well, no matter," he said. "I've decided to give you anything you can ask for. Just ask. If it's within my power to grant it, consider it done."

She blushed a bit and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"That's a great idea," he said. "I'll stop by and visit the house elves and see if I can set it up."

"Thank you Master."

They rounded a corner and found someone waiting for him.

"Hello Harry Potter," she said. "I've been looking for you."

All thoughts of Hermione's request were driven from his head as he recognized the speaker.

It was newspaper girl.

The Unexpected Result Of. . .

. . .The Eccentricity of Ravenclaws

Harry's first instinct was to be courteous and tell the girl in front of him that, though he didn't know her name, he recognized her from earlier that morning. Admitting that he'd been in the Ravenclaw common room—never mind the circumstances—would be a mistake, however. He decided to try a more non-committal response.

"You've been looking for me?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she said. "My name is Luna Lovegood. Most people call me 'Loony' Lovegood behind my back though. They think I don't notice, but I do."

"That's not very nice," he said, not sure what else to say.

"No, it isn't," she said.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you," he said.

"It is?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. "Isn't it?"

"I think it's nice to meet you, of course," she said. "But I am a bit surprised that you feel the same about meeting me. Though perhaps I shouldn't be."

Harry wasn't sure he could wrap his mind around her meaning so he decided to shift the direction of the conversation a bit.

"So," he said, "why were you looking for me?"

She stared at him for what seemed to Harry to be ages without so much as blinking before she said, "I've wanted to meet you, of course."

"Oh," he said dumbly.

"And I've wanted to meet the others as well."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Others?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she said. "I know Ginny, of course; father and I live just over the hill from her family."

Harry felt as though all the blood in his body rushed to his feet. He felt oddly cold and a bit lightheaded. She had gestured right to Ginny. This Luna girl had noticed Ginny even though Harry had had her unnoticeable since the previous night. Dumbledore hadn't noticed her until Harry had mentioned her name, yet this strange blond girl seemed to have known exactly where Ginny was the entire time they'd been standing there. The surprises weren't finished however, as Luna continued talking as though she hadn't just set Harry's world on it's ear.

"I also know Hermione, or rather, I know of her. Most everyone here knows she's one of your best friends. Or was. She isn't now, though. She's something else, isn't she?"

Harry felt himself nodding.

"And of course I would recognize the Beauxbatons champion even without her clothes." She turned and looked directly at Gabby. "You're the only one I don't know at all." Gabby's eyes went wide. "I remember seeing Harry bring you out of the lake, but I don't know your name."

"Gabby," she responded numbly.

"Oh," said Luna. "I have to say that I really enjoyed your show this morning, though I don't think anyone else even noticed it."

Gabby gulped. Harry thought he knew what was coming and suspected Gabby did as well.

"Show?" the young Veela asked.

"Yes," said Luna. "When you masturbated in the common room."

Harry didn't think he'd ever seen anyone go so red so fast. Gabby nearly exploded in a full body blush and had to clearly restrain herself from covering her most private areas with her hands. He pulled her into his arms to comfort her.

"You saw her?" he asked of Luna.

"Of course," she replied. "Why wouldn't I?"

Harry's mouth worked soundlessly as he formulated an answer to her apparently innocent question. "Well," he said finally. "Most people don't notice her."

"That could be it, then," said Luna matter of factly. "I tend to see a lot of things that other people don't notice."

Confused, Harry could only nod. Not knowing what else to do, Harry gestured down the hall towards the stairs to the fifth floor.

"We, er," he fumbled, "we were headed down to the Great Hall for lunch. Would you like to walk with us?"

"I'd like that," she said. "Though I was going to eat in the kitchens."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she responded. "I tend to eat there once a day so that I can have at least one good meal."

"Why wouldn't you get a good meal in the Great Hall?"

"Because my house mates tend to take the food off my plate or move the dishes away from me so that I can't reach them."

"That's horrible," Hermione said, apparently unable to contain herself. Harry agreed with her, though and nodded.

"Perhaps," said Luna. "But it's no worse that the treatment I've always gotten here."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

She told them a sad story about how all of her belongings would disappear over the course of the year at Hogwarts and she would only recover them on the last day. To illustrate, she lifted her robes (the only robes she had left, she'd said) and showed them a pair of mismatched shoes and no socks.

Instead of the Great Hall, Harry found himself and his girls simply following Luna to the kitchens where they were waited on by several overeager house elves. As they began to eat, Harry steered the conversation back around to where it had started.

"You said upstairs that you'd been looking for me to meet me," he said. She nodded. "Why is that?"

"Well," said Luna, "I noticed a change come over you several days ago, right after the task in the lake. The next day, I saw Gabby following you around nearly everywhere." Gabby blushed again. "I was even more interested when I was trying to eat lunch last Thursday and I saw her slip beneath the table. You were acting very strange." Now Harry was blushing. "I could only assume that you were having sex right there in the middle of everyone."

Luna calmly ate a bite of her roast beef sandwich as though she weren't discussing a near stranger's public acts of sex with that very stranger.

"Is that why you wanted to meet me?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

She nodded.

"I've been masturbate in private for a couple of years now," she said unabashedly. "It's difficult here at school, of course, as not many people like me and I have to be very careful when and where I do it."

Harry found himself nodding again at the strangeness and frankness of the conversation.

"However, I have never been so aroused as I was that day," said Luna. "If I thought I could have gotten away with it, I would have come over and joined you. It looked like fun."

Had Harry been eating or drinking anything, he likely would have choked at the way she'd said it. It was so honest and direct, with none of the huskiness or desperation that he'd heard from other girls offering a sexual encounter. To be honest, Harry found it a little strange. But, then again, the girl herself did not exactly put forth an overwhelming sense of normalcy. It was such a different way to go about it, that Harry felt as though he needed confirmation.

"Are you saying you want to shag me?" he asked.

"I did at the time," she said before taking another bite of her sandwich.

"But you don't now?" he asked.

"Oh, of course I do," she said. "I don't think there's a female in this castle that isn't interested in bedding you at least once." Harry found himself smiling wistfully at that thought. He was confused, however, about her answer.

"I'm afraid I'm lost," he said.

"You're in the kitchens at Hogwarts," she said flatly. Then, without waiting for a reply from him, she continued. "When I saw Gabby on the couch in the common room this morning, I knew you were nearby. I couldn't see you, however. Were you hunting Blue Footed Floopers?"

Harry blinked at the non sequitur and looked at Hermione.

"I have no idea, Master," she said, shrugging.

"They're a type of invisible bird that hops around on it's left foot. They can sometimes be distracted by masturbation. I thought maybe you were hunting them to take a photo to prove that they exist. They're very rare, you know."

Harry wasn't too sure that these Blue Footed. . . whatevers even existed and if they did, how could be possibly be trying to take a picture of one? He shook his head.

"Hmm," said Luna. "I was sure that was what you were doing, since I couldn't see you but could hear you. You see, anyone hunting the Blue Footed Flooper becomes invisible themselves. A lot of people who've gone missing just haven't stopped looking for Floopers yet." She took another bite of sandwich, so Harry did the same.

"Anyway, when I saw Gabby this morning, I knew that I had to find you."

Finally feeling like he was on stable ground with the conversation, Harry responded.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to join you," she said.

"You mean have sex?" he said; it was more of a statement than a question.

"Well, yes, of course, that would be nice," Luna said. "But that's not exactly what I mean. I want to join you. Like Ginny did. And the other girls here."

"You mean you want to be like one of them?" he asked. She nodded, smiling.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said. He couldn't help thinking about what Dumbledore would say. "I'm disappointed in you, Harry. As soon as you leave my office, you find another girl to bond with." "Ginny and Hermione were, well, sort of accidents. And, well, it changes you. None of these girls are the same as they were before. I'm not sure that it's something that anyone should go looking for."

Luna nodded but didn't look disappointed in his answer.

"Why do you want to do this anyway?" he asked, trying his best to sound simply curious and not judgemental.

"Because you need me," she said cryptically. There was an undercurrent of emotion in her voice that he almost equated with desperation. Her expression, however, was just as just as neutral as it had been since they'd met. "And because I need you. And because I already belong to you."

While Harry was trying to discern the meaning of her answer, she stood up, took the remains of her sandwich and headed for the door. Before she pushed it open, she turned to face him again.

"Thank you for sharing a lunch with me," she said. "It was the best lunch I've had here."

Then she was gone, leaving Harry feeling somewhat lost and confused.

"Did that make any sense at all?" he asked his girls.

"Luna's always been a bit odd, Master," Hermione offered. "I've met her studying in the library a few times and she says the strangest things. Her father owns a newspaper that prints wild stories about made-up creatures. She seems to believe they actually exist."

"So she's touched, you think?" Hermione just shrugged. "Gabby, what do you think?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, Master," she said. "But she noticed all of us, and saw me this morning. Maybe she knows something we don't. I agree that she's odd, though."

Harry nodded. The girl was odd to say the least. But Harry couldn't shake the feeling that she'd left so that they wouldn't see her crying.

After lunch, Harry had potions. Harry had been afraid that Snape would see Hermione and assign him a detention for cheating or something, but he paid no heed to the bushy-haired slave. Still, Harry was only too happy when the bell rang and class was dismissed. Harry had only lost Gryffindor 25 points during the entire lesson. He thought it might be a record low.

He encouraged them all to go on ahead without him as he had something to do. Hermione was going back to the library to finish her research and Gabby, Ginny and Bitch were going to meet him in the tower. Harry detoured back to the kitchens, however as he had remembered Hermione's request. After being put in contact with the elves that were working on their rooms, he made his request. They were only too happy to comply and eagerly made the modifications he asked for. They politely informed him that their suite of rooms would be done on time, though, he never bothered to ask when "on time" would be.

He was distracted walking back to the tower, thinking about how much Hermione would like what he'd done for her. Though he had to admit, he'd done it just as much for himself. He couldn't help the smile on his face.

"And just where do we think we're going, Mr. Potter?" came an authoritative voice behind him. He turned, only to be confronted by the menacing dark brown eyes of Padma Patil.

"I was going back to my common room, Miss Patil," he said, emphasising her name.

"Oh, I don't think so," she said.

"And why is that?" he asked, fighting a grin at whatever game she was playing.

She crooked her finger at him and he took a tentative step towards her.

"I've had a little chat with my sister," she said seriously. Harry's grin disappeared. "Ah, you know what I'm talking about." Harry tried not to gulp. He wondered if Parvati had had a change of heart about what they'd done in Hagrid's hut the previous morning. Had she decided that he'd taken advantage of her? Was he now going to face retribution from a very angry and smart sister?

"I think we need to have a talk Mr. Potter." She opened a door and he reluctantly allowed her to usher him inside.

As the door closed behind him, he saw a desk in the centre of the room with an unnaturally high chair behind it. There were plaques and photos of people he didn't recognize on the walls. There was a large shelf behind the desk with a huge number of books arranged on it. On one wall, there were four miniature hourglasses mirroring the larger ones in the Entrance Hall. He turned to see Padma locking the door behind them.

"Where are we?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"Professor Flitwick's office," she replied.

Harry nodded. It was where he'd thought they were.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

"What did you do to my sister?" she demanded, ignoring his own question.

"What?"

"You heard me," she said. "What did you do to my sister?"

"What did she tell you?" he asked.

"Answer the question."

Harry closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.

"I apologized to her," he began, but he didn't get the chance to finish.

"For what? Taking advantage of her?" Suddenly, Padma seemed so much more threatening than her twin.

"What? No!" he said, taking a step back. "I apologized to her for the way I'd treated her at the Yule Ball."

"So you could get into her knickers?"

"No."

"You told her she was beautiful?"

"Yes, I did."

"So you could get into her knickers?"

"No!"

"So why did you say it?" she asked.

"Because it's true."

"Ha!" she said as though she thought his statement ludicrous. "Did you tell all your little Gryffindor buddies just how good she is?"

Harry had had enough. He pulled his wand and Padma, obviously thinking he was going to attack her, stepped back and fumbled for her own wand, but Harry pointed his at the door. With a flick, it was unlocked. He turned back to her.

"I have never bragged to anyone about anything like that," he said coldly. "Though I notice she ran and blabbed all about how she shagged the Boy Who Lived." The last was said with dripping disdain.

He threw open the door.

"Harry, wait," she said, grabbing his arm before he could leave. "Please."

"What do you want now? Going to accuse me of forcing her?"

"It's not like that," she said contritely. She was looking at the floor and speaking softly. Harry closed the door again, but kept his hand on the knob. "I'm sorry," she went on. "It's not what you think."

Her tone told him that her entire attitude had changed so, for the moment, he was willing to hear her out. He was going to have to have words with Parvati, though.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'm very protective of my sister, Harry," she said. She took a deep breath and continued. "When she told me that you and she had. . ." She trailed off. Harry snorted.

"Yeah," he said. "I swore to her I'd never tell anyone else about it, and she goes off—"

"No, Harry!" she said, desperate. "Parvati and I tell each other everything." At his look, she clarified. "We're close, she and I. When I say we tell each other everything, I really mean everything, no matter how embarrassing, because we trust each other. We know we'll never tell each other's secrets. I know I'm the only one she's told, because, even with our trust in each other, she made me swear to secrecy before she would tell me. And I swear to you, Harry, I'll never tell a soul."

He felt a little better, but not much.

"So why the accusations if you trust your sister so much?" he asked.

"I trust her," she said. "Not you. You were so mean to her at the Yule Ball without meaning to be. At least, I don't think you meant it." Harry shook his head. "Sure my date with Ron was a bust, but Parvati was with you. Boy Who Lived aside, there are very few girls in this castle who haven't dreamed about the perfect date with you. Parvati cried on my shoulder for an hour after that night. Once she got over her initial anger, all she had left was a crushed dream."

Harry started to feel bad.

"She got over it, of course, but she was still not happy with you at all. So, when she came to me last night and told me what the two of you had done, I assumed, no matter how much she said otherwise that you'd done something to her. I love my sister more than anything. And as much as I hated having to comfort her after the Yule Ball, I couldn't bear picking up the pieces if you'd taken advantage of her and taken her virginity."

She walked over and looked him in the eyes.

"I'm glad you didn't hurt her. You have no idea how happy she was when she told me."

"Well, I'm glad she was happy," he said.

"I'm really sorry I said those things, Harry," she said.

"I understand," he replied. "I have people I care about too and I don't know what I'd do if someone hurt them. You must really love your sister."

"I do," she said. "Can you forgive me for accusing you?"

"Already done."

She kissed him. It was soft and sensual and sweet. Less than a second into it, he couldn't remember who had kissed whom. But suddenly it was broken. He opened his eyes to see hers were wide and staring at him in horror.

"Oh, God, Harry," she said, "I shouldn't have. . ." She bolted around him and grabbed for the door but he pulled her around by the arm and straight into another kiss. She tensed for a moment before melting into it. Her breath was sweet and her arms snaked around him. He ran his tongue along her lips and she opened her mouth, allowing him entrance. It alternated passionate and gentle and demanding and timid. When they broke apart again, her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. She stared at him searchingly as though attempting to divine his thoughts and intentions.

Harry was looking at her with new eyes as well. Where her sister and been carefree and her attitude light, Padma seemed deep and passionate but demanding at the same time. Harry got the sense that sex, while not something that either sister would take lightly or accept from just anyone, was a deeper, more significant event for the Ravenclaw.

Whatever it was she was looking for, she seemed to have found as she said, "I was serious when I said that most of the girls here would like the perfect date with you. They also wouldn't turn down a quick shag, as my sister so perfectly demonstrated." She looked away as though embarrassed. "I'll admit I'm no exception." He place a finger under her chin and turned her head back to face him.

"You don't have anything to worry about," he said gently. "I'm not going to pressure you or judge you or do anything you don't want. It's just you and me and your Head of House's office." He smiled at her.

"I don't know what I was thinking meeting you here," she said, grudgingly. "It's always been my fantasy to have sex in here."

"Got a thing for dangerous places, have we?" he asked with a grin.

"Got a thing for authority," she admitted.

His grin grew. "Is that so, Miss Patil?" he said in his best authoritative voice. She shivered and he flicked his wand twice to relock and silence the door.

"Take me, Harry," she said. "Please?"

His lips found hers again and they moaned into each other's mouths. Her hands began unfastening his robes and he caressed her arms as she did so. There was an anticipation to undressing her that seemed to fuel her ardour so he decided to let it build. Soon enough, his robes hit the floor and she ran her small hands over his trim back. He gently pushed her long black hair back over her shoulder and kissed around her lower neck and upper shoulder. She tossed her head back and groaned in pleasure. He used the opportunity to kiss around, under her chin to the other side of her neck. She gripped tighter, pulling his body close to hers.

He pulled he head away from her neck a bit. "Aren't you worried about Flitwick coming in here?" he whispered.

She shook her head dreamily. "He has a class just now," she said.

He returned to kissing her neck and she gasped. He ran his fingers lightly up her arms, pushing the sleeves of her robes up. She shivered and her skin erupted with goose flesh.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she murmured in his ear.

He moved one hand to the top fastening of her robes and deftly popped it open. He pull the small flap of fabric out of the way and nibbled on the newly exposed flesh. Her hands skimmed down his back and slid under his shorts, gripping and kneading the cheeks of his arse.

Another fastening popped open and he trailed his tongue down as far as he could go before trailing it right back up to swirl lightly around the little hollow between her collarbones. She was panting.

Another fastening, and her hands gripped his bum even tighter as he deposited little kisses over every inch of uncovered skin, which now included the inner top portions of her breasts and her cleavage down past the bit of lacy fabric that held the cups of her bra together. As he reached that point with his lips, she pulled her hands out of his shorts and tangled her fingers in his hair, pressing his face into her chest.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she cried. "Yes! Yes!"

While he was there, he popped two more fastenings. Now her robes were open down to her navel. He slipped both hands inside, sliding them around to her back. This had he effect of pushing the two halves of her robes apart and placing her bra-covered breasts on display. His eyebrows shot up when he realized that her very lacy bra only had half-cups, essentially leaving the entire top half of her breasts, including her delightfully chocolate coloured areolae—from just above the nipple, up—uncovered. He took the opportunity to lick around the top of first one breast, then the other, drawing squeals of delight from the sexy young Ravenclaw.

He ran his hands up and down along her smooth, velvety back, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Her hands, no longer pulling his face into her breasts, had moved to his shoulders and were gripping them as though afraid he might disappear if she gave him the slightest chance.

"Oh, Padma," he said with a moan. "You're so beautiful. Your skin is so soft and smooth, I could spend all day just running my hands over it."

"Mmm, promises, promises, Harry," she purred.

His hands hitting her bra strap for the fourth time prompted him to unclasp it. To his surprise, it wasn't held up by shoulder straps and so, promptly dropped down along her stomach until it caught in her still partially fastened robes. Her breasts now free, he immediately latched onto her left nipple and began kissing and sucking and licking, trying to send as much pleasure through it into the young witch as possible. After a few, rather long, seconds, he shifted his attentions to it's opposite.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give for two mouths," he said sadly.

"You and me both," she replied.

"I could probably get another if you'd like. . ." he said cheekily. He briefly wondered if thinking hard enough could call Gabby or Ginny to him. He doubted it.

"Shut up and don't stop!" she cried. Who was he to ignore such a desperate request?

As he returned to his oral teasing of her gorgeous breasts, his hands busied themselves finishing the job of unfastening her robes. He still had two to go when she shrugged her shoulders and her robes simply slipped down to pool at her feet. He pulled back for a moment to look at her beauty. What he saw shocked and aroused him even more than he already was.

She was wearing a white lace garter belt with short elastic bands that clipped on to her lace-topped thigh-high white stockings. On her feet were a pair of dainty white high-heeled shoes. What had shocked him most, though was the fact that she wore no knickers. The beautiful, plump mound of her sex was completely naked save a small, perfectly trimmed triangle of shiny, curly, black hair. He had to stand back to admire the way the interestingly sexy, white garments contrasted with the light brown of her silky smooth, flawless skin.

Harry cocked an eyebrow at her undergarments (or lack thereof), clearly both surprised and pleased. For a long moment, she stood there next to her head‑of‑house's desk, exposed to his hungry young eyes.

"I found them in a muggle catalogue," she explained, obviously on the verge of self-consciousness. "They looked so sexy, I had to get them."

Their eyes met and she froze. He knew it was because of the lust in his eyes. She seemed to melt with the knowledge that he found her beautiful beyond words at that moment.

"I'm glad you did, because they are," he said. "And so is the witch wearing them."

He took a step and he was suddenly standing between her legs with an arm around her waist, pulling her nearly nude body into his—his cloth covered arousal pressing between her smooth, toned thighs. Their lips were quickly pressed together with a passion that hadn't been there before. Now he realized just how sexy he found her and so did she. He ran his other hand down along her side—revelling in the novelty of the garter belt resting above her hip—until he reached the top of her stocking, where he traced a finger around, randomly moving from lace to bare skin.

Her kiss was demanding and conveyed to him the lust and passion she felt for him at that moment as her hands slipped themselves back into his shorts, only this time, working to slide the offending garment off. She was stymied by the erection between her thighs, however, and could only get them down over his bum. Realizing her difficulties, he pulled his hips back a bit and popped the waistband over his cock—the shorts sliding their way down to rest round his ankles—before he slid his raging erection back between her thighs, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of her impossibly smooth skin caressing his manhood.

"Oh, fuck me, Harry," she said. "I can't wait any more. I need you inside me."

He kissed her lower lip and then her chin and then on down her neck and used the distraction to fist his arousal a time or two before finding the opening of her cunt with it. He bit her lip lightly and she gasped as he pushed past her entrance, her breath tickling his nose. Her wide eyes displayed her lust and arousal just as much as her sex which he found to be quite wet and ready. He pushed a bit more and slid deeper inside her. Her reactions to his invasion of her sex and the tightness of her lead Harry to assume that she was a virgin like her sister had been. She had no maidenhead, though that didn't really mean anything. She mewled and whimpered with every centimetre that slipped into her, finally bending down and biting Harry's shoulder when it became too intense for her.

Once he was fully inside her, he paused to kiss and lick various points on her neck and face, running his tongue along the rim of her ears brought an exceptionally strong reaction from her. Slowly he withdrew before sliding back in. He started slow but increased in pace quite quickly. Soon, they were having trouble staying mated as his thrusting became more insistent, so he manoeuvred her over so that she was sitting on the edge of the desk. He lifted first one leg, and then the other, letting her wrap them around him as she leaned back on her hands. Now that she was used to his presence inside her, he thrust vigorously as he ran his hands up and down her smooth skin eliciting whimpers and moans of delight.

She tossed her head back, unaware of her long, black hair flowing over the diminutive Charms professor's books and parchment. He leaned forward and latched onto her throat, licking along her carotid artery. She groaned and bit her lip in response. He reached down and ran his thumb over her distended clit. The reaction was immediate. She cried out and fell back onto those books and pieces of parchment as she clutched her breasts, pinching and rolling the rock hard nipples between her fingers.

He kept thrusting into her as he manipulated her clit, bringing her to a short but unexpected climax which caused her back to arch more that Harry would have though possible. The movement shifted some of the items on Flitwick's desk so Harry thought it would be a good idea to find another location.

He grabbed her back, slid her forward so that her arse was off the desk and managed to lift her up without slipping out of her. He carried her over to the door and pressed her up against it. Using the friction of her back on the flat wooden surface to help hold her up, he began driving into her with determination. She had wrapped her arms around him when he'd moved her over and that's where she left them, grasping at his back almost as though she were attempting to flay him with her bare hands.

His hips pounded into hers, slamming her lower half against the door as her legs clenched with each inward thrust, pulling him deeper into her centre. His pubic bone rhythmically smashing into her clit was keeping her vibrating at somewhere just shy of orgasm. She would moan and groan and whimper and scream and cry out with what was, for Harry, unbelievable frequency. Somehow, she seemed to be enjoying their coupling more than any other girl he'd yet fucked. He vowed to himself to see if he could repeat this with other girls. Perhaps it was some new Veela power that was developing. Or perhaps, it was just Padma.

Whatever it was, it made him feel like a god—a sex god, with the power to bring untold pleasure to any girl finding her cunt wrapped around his prick. It also felt great on his cock as the walls of her vagina seemed intent on bringing him untold pleasure. His rigid shaft drove in and out of her quivering, arousal slicked pussy as her moans and cries crescendoed towards a new climax.

"Oh, shit, Harry," she nearly screamed. "Oh, gods! Oh, shit!" Her grasping hands became even more desperate as they danced over his back and arse cheeks. She brought her head forward and tried to nuzzle his neck but her body was nearly convulsing with eminent orgasm.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," she chanted in his ear and he delighted in her pleasure even as his own built.

"Come for me, baby," he said as he pounded her right to the edge. This was going to be huge, he was fairly sure. "Come for me, Padma. Come on my cock."

"Oh, fuck! Oh, yes! Oh, fuck!" she cried. "Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck! Oh gods! Oh— Huuuuggnhh!" The sound was primal and involuntary as she found her release. Far from wanting him to slow down or pause, however, she seemed to want him to speed up during her orgasm. Her hands pulled and her legs gripped in an effort to drive him into her faster and harder than before.

Harry didn't even think her climax had ended before she gave him a shove, forcing him backward. With the unexpected movement, he lost his balance and fell, landing on his arse. He slipped out of her when he did so and she growled like an animal and pounced on him, shoving his cock back inside her and beginning to bounce up and down on him as fast as she could make her body move.

Her cunt was still twitching inside in the after effects of her orgasm and he felt his own release approaching.

"Oh, God, Padma!" he said. "You're insatiable!" He wanted to lift his hips to meet her downward thrusts but with the force she was using and the speed she was moving, he was afraid of hurting her. All fear left him though with her next command.

"Ugnh! Faster! Harder!" she panted between thrusts. "Fuck me!"

He grabbed her hips and began meeting her every stroke.

From nowhere, the thought that she would be really feeling this tomorrow flitted across his brain and he nearly laughed. It threw him off enough to break his rhythm. She growled at him again.

"Faster!" she commanded.

Fine, he thought, she wants faster?

He took a firm hold of her hips and rolled to the side. He ended up on his knees with her waist lifted into the air. With this position, all he had to move was his hips. Less momentum equalled faster thrusting. He began pounding into her as quickly and forcefully as he could. She tossed her head back and revelled in it. Harry amused himself with watching the mesmerizing way her tits bounced back and forth, counterpointing his thrusts into her slippery channel. He could feel a pressure building in his bollocks. It wouldn't be long now.

"That what you want?" he managed to ask. He kept having to inch his knees forward as the strength of his pounding was forcing her backwards little by little.

She looked at him with glazed, lust-filled eyes and barely nodded. He manoeuvred one of his hands over so that he could stroke her clit with the pad of his thumb. The pressure in his bollocks was more than he'd ever felt; his impending orgasm was going to be huge, he could tell.

"Come for me, baby," he said, repeating her earlier urging. "Come for me, Padma. Let me see you come one more time. He slipped his thumb over the rock-hard clit so close to his pounding shaft and her cunt spasmed.

She was close.

So was he.

"Gods, Harry," she said. "Fuck! I'm going to come again!"

"I'm right there with you," he said.

"Oh, gods, Harry," she begged. "Come on me. Come all over me."

His cock twitched and throbbed as she said it. He suddenly understood the pressure in his balls. She wanted him to come on her—to come all over her—and whatever magic had granted him these new abilities and allowed him to instinctively please his partners was going to grant her wish.

"You want me to come on you?" he asked. He was tiring a bit, but still managed to keep the horrendously fast pace going. "You want me to come all over you?"

"Gods, Harry, yes!" she half moaned, half squeaked. "Cover me. Cover me in your come!"

Her cunt spasmed again as she started coming again and that was enough to drive him over as well. He pulled out of her and let her hips drop to the ground. She immediately had her hand at her sex, rubbing vigorously as her orgasm raced through her body. Harry grabbed his cock and began fisting it, pumping absolutely ridiculous amounts of come onto the climaxing girl. The first few jets landed on her stomach and lower chest. The next few covered her gorgeous breasts with their chocolate nipples. Even more splattered her face and drenched her hair. As his orgasm subsided and his seed came out with less force, more of it hit her breasts and stomach. The last few squirts coated her pubic hair, hand and pussy.

She began rubbing her other hand through his spunk, swirling little pools and huge globs of it all over her beautiful, smooth skin. Harry thought she looked both ridiculous and sexy, somehow at the same time. She licked her lips, coaxing a bit of his come into her mouth. She tasted it for a moment before swallowing it.

"That was incredible, Harry," she said, finally catching her breath. "And your come tastes so good. I thought it would be kind of nasty." She brought her fingers to her mouth and licked the come off them. "I can't believe you came so much. This was always my fantasy but I didn't think it was actually possible."

"Not to sound like I'm bragging or anything," said Harry. "But I'm sort of unique."

"Oh?" she asked. He had aroused the Ravenclaw in the come drenched girl.

"Let's just say that I've discovered a kind of magic that most men will never have the pleasure of knowing."

"Well," she said as she licked more come off her fingers, "I can't say I wouldn't appreciate it if you'd share a bit of that pleasure with me once in a while, Harry."

"I think that would be my pleasure, Padma," he replied. "You, er, need any help cleaning up?"

"No," she said. "If you could just hand me my wand?" He did so. "Seems a shame to waste it," she said sadly. But with a shrug, she flicked her wand and was suddenly clean again.

"There's plenty more where that came from," he said cheekily.

"Promises, promises," she said again.

They dressed again (Harry was amused that Padma already seemed sore from the ferocity of their encounter; she'd done it to herself, after all) and, after straightening the desk up a bit, unlocked and unsilenced the door before leaving.

After several hallways and more than half a dozen passages, they were in a deserted section of corridor when Padma turned to him.

"Didn't get enough, Harry?" she asked with a smirk on her lips.

"Huh?" Harry said dumbly.

"Isn't Gryffindor tower in the other direction?"

Harry stopped. She was right. Why was he following her?

"Er, yeah," he said. "Don't know what I was thinking."

He turned around and headed for the fat lady's portrait.

He couldn't stop thinking about why he'd been going the wrong way, however. To make matters worse, twice more he realized that, in his musings, he had made a wrong turning and was headed towards the west side of the castle. By the time he'd picked up his girls from the common room, however, he'd put it in the back of his mind.

"Who was she?" Gabby asked as they walked down towards the Great Hall and dinner. "Did you have fun?"

"Padma Patil," he whispered to her. "And what do you think?"

She smirked at him.

Down at dinner, once they were all seated and Hermione had loaded his plate with food, Harry looked up and, two tables away, saw Luna. She was trying to eat, but had only managed to procure a single piece of bread for herself. She seemed content, though, with what she had. Harry fought down the urge to rush over to her defence. What her classmates had done was so subtle, it was possible even they weren't consciously aware that they were doing it. He couldn't see how they'd be unaware, but he saw no overt attempts to keep Luna from the food on the table. It was almost as if they'd convinced themselves that Luna was a non-entity.

Hermione nudged him gently.

"You should eat, Master," she said.

Gabby followed his gaze, or rather where his gaze had been as he'd started guiltily and stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork even before Hermione had finished speaking.

"Master has other things on his mind, it seems," Gabby said knowingly. Hermione followed Gabby's look and spotted the blond girl.

"Do you like her, Master?" she asked.

"I don't know her," he said honestly.

"Are you attracted to her?" she pressed.

Harry opened his mouth but couldn't seem to say anything.

"I think it goes beyond attraction now," said Gabby.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean I think she was right," she said. "You need each other."

"But Dumbledore," he said. "I promised him that I wouldn't go looking. . ."

"You're not looking, Master," said Hermione.

"She found you, Master," interjected Ginny.

"And you never promised not to form more Desmi," offered Gabby.

They ate in silence for a while, Harry lost in thought. What was it about Luna Lovegood? Were they right in that he and Luna needed each other? Did that mean that somehow she had initiated a Desmi? Was that even possible? And if that's what it was why couldn't he feel that overwhelming need to fuck like he had with Gabby and Bitch? He just felt drawn to her. And he couldn't explain why. Not even to himself.

"I was looking for her earlier," he said.

Gabby's eyebrows shot up and Hermione, Ginny and even Bitch looked at him with varying amounts of surprise.

"What? When?" Gabby asked.

"Just before I got to the common room this afternoon," he said. "After Padma. I didn't even realize what I was doing." He sat his fork down and glanced over at the girl in question. "Padma thought I was following her. I half thought I was, too." He looked down at his plate. He realized that he still hadn't eaten anything; the bite of broccoli still speared on his fork. "I think I was looking for Luna."

The mood of the girls was suddenly serious, all traces of their earlier smiles were gone.

"Are you going to bond with her?" Gabby asked. There was an eagerness in the question and Harry saw a hint of expectation in her eyes. He saw the same look in Ginny's and a keen interest in Bitch's.

He could not, however, answer her question.

Back in the common room after dinner, Harry tried to throw himself into his homework but he couldn't seem to make himself concentrate. A small voice in the back of his head kept screaming at him to go to Ravenclaw tower and ask to speak to Luna. Another part of him kept shouting that voice down. He debated on going to bed early but couldn't even seem to make that decision.

He looked up at the clock and was startled to see that it was after eleven and that the common room was empty. He looked down at his homework and was disgusted to see that he had only four and a half lines of a foot and a half assignment completed; he may as well have not done anything. Ginny and Bitch had gone up to bed at some point and Gabby was dozing comfortably next to him. Hermione seemed the only one awake and, sensing his needs, began packing his things away for him. He smiled at her and thanked her. He turned to pick Gabby up to take her to bed but Hermione stopped him.

"I'll take her up, Master," she said.

For a moment, Harry thought about telling her that it was all right, that he would take her up, but then he just nodded. He turned and headed for the stairs. His feet however, wouldn't cooperate and he found himself pushing open the Fat Lady's portrait.

There stood Luna.

"Luna!" he said in a hushed voice. "What are you doing here?"

"That should be obvious," she said. He climbed out of the portrait hole and let it close. "I came to be with you, of course."

"How long have you been standing here?" he asked. He felt bad that he hadn't known that she was there.

"Not long," she said. "So, have you made a decision?"

He was taken aback by the question. Had he? He didn't know this girl. But did it matter? Was it even his decision to make?

He peered into the girls eyes and, for several long moments, neither spoke. There was pain in her eyes, a sense of loneliness—of helplessness. But there was hope there as well. An eagerness and anticipation. A sense of playfulness and a strange kind of innocence.

He suddenly realized that they had somehow moved very close. He could feel her breath tickling his chin as she looked at him. He could smell a sort of sweet smell, almost like berries and honey. He wondered if it was her shampoo. In his minds eye, he was burying his face in her locks and running his fingers through her golden strands and combing her wet hair as she sat naked between his thighs after a shower and delighting in the feel of her tresses laying across his chest as she curled up against him.

He could no longer deny himself. He could no longer deny her.

He leaned forward and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. He found his own arms reciprocating the gesture, his hands draped in sheets of her hair. There were no tongues involved and their mouths stayed closed, but there was still something about that kiss that said more than either of them were capable of expressing verbally. When it finally broke, she leaned back and asked innocently, "Does that mean 'yes'?" He smiled and nodded.

"Where would you like?" he asked.

"I know the perfect place," she said mischievously.

Harry turned and whispered the password to the Fat Lady. When the portrait opened he stuck his head inside and found Hermione sitting patiently on the couch near his neatly packed school bag.

"Hermione," he said, "I need my cloak."

"I thought you might, Master," she said, smiling and indicating a spot on the floor right in front of him. He looked down and found his invisibility cloak folded neatly, lying on the floor.

He thanked her, picked it up, closed the portrait and draped the cloak over himself and Luna. He slipped an arm around the strange—and strangely beguiling—girl.

"Lead on," he said. She giggled and slipped her arm around him.

When they arrived at their destination and Luna had shared her idea with him, he stood stunned and incredulous.

"You want to have sex in Dumbledore's chair," he said disbelievingly. "In the middle of the Great Hall?"

"Not in the middle," she said calmly. "Where it is is fine."

He allowed her to lead him over to the chair in question where she began to slowly and shyly unfasten his robes. Despite the bizarreness of the situation, he found himself a bit aroused by the idea. Still, he had to ask.

"Is there some reason that you want to have sex in the headmaster's chair in the middle of the night?"

"Because," she said, sounding as if she thought it were the most obvious thing in the world, "it would hardly be appropriate to do so during the day. He might wish to sit in it."

He froze for a moment as his brain processed what she'd said and she continued the process of opening his robes. His thought processes kicked back in about the time she'd unhooked the last fastening. He grabbed her arms and pulled her to him in a kiss. She returned it with equal heat. This kiss was more insistent and passionate. This kiss spoke of desire—of lust and need. When it was over, he found both of them robeless—barely having been aware of his hands having busied themselves stripping the girl.

He took a moment to admire her. She was cute, with pale, smooth skin, breasts that looked as though they would fit Harry's hands perfectly and gently flaring hips that announced that, while perhaps not yet a woman, she was clearly no longer a child. As he was looking her over, she was doing the same to him, running her eyes up and down his body, scrutinizing him in a way that he hadn't seen anyone else do before. It made him feel a bit self-conscious until the corners of her mouth tugged themselves up into an appreciative smile.

She took a step forward and his arms snaked around her as though they were meant to be there. She was an interesting combination of soft and tough, delicate and strong. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that called out to him to protect her and keep her safe. He would have been content to do nothing more than hold her forever, shielding her from the pain and injustice of the world.

"I. . ." she began, but stopped. She took a deep breath and started again. "I can trust you, right?"

He held her gaze and nodded solemnly. As he watched, fat tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. He pulled her to him and held her as she cried, releasing all the heartache and sadness and anguish that she'd been holding in for who knew how long. He imagined that he could feel it leaving her body and flowing into the ether, leaving her free and clear and truly content for the first time that she could likely remember.

After some time had passed with him simply holding her—providing strength and comfort—she looked up in his arms and he knew it was time. He unclasped her bra and she shrugged out of it. Then he hooked his thumbs in her knickers, drawing them slowly down her legs, admiring her lovely pussy with its accompanying patch of dirty-blond hair decorating the top. Whilst he was down there, he plucked his wand from his discarded robes and flicked it at all the doors, casting silencing charms—locking charms wouldn't keep out any professors and would only serve to announce the fact that they were there should any try the doors. Once he stood back up, she returned the favour, slipping his shorts down to his ankles where he stepped out of them, leaving her clad in only her mismatched shoes.

She stopped to admire his hardening cock as though it were the most beautiful thing in the world to her. Gingerly, she reached out and traced a finger along it's length, following veins and ridges and giggling when it jumped as she looped around the head.

"I think someone's ready to play," she said innocently, staring up at him with her big blue eyes.

"I think you're right," he replied.

"Someday, I'm going to bring you to climax in my mouth," she said. "But not tonight. Now, I want you to make me a woman, Harry. I want you to make me your woman."

Somewhere in the back of his brain, there was the tiniest voice telling him that Dumbledore would not approve of his having sex with Luna like this. He certainly would not approve if he formed a Desmi with her. And he absolutely would not approve of him doing so in his own chair in the Great Hall. That voice was the lone voice of dissent in what may as well have been a crowd of millions urging him on.

He took her hand and walked her over to the throne-like chair that belonged to the headmaster, sitting down and pulling her into his lap. They sat like that, kissing and nuzzling and fondling each other for a while, with his hardness extending up between her thighs, pressing against her dampening sex. Then she began moving. She lifted herself up on her knees, allowing him to slide ever so excruciatingly along her moist cleft before lowering herself back down. He was reminded forcefully of Gabby's seduction of him that first night they were together. Countless more times Luna lifted herself up and lowered herself back down oh, so slowly—maddeningly slow. Each time she did, she managed to drag the tips of her rock hard nipples up and down along his chest. He spent the time running his fingertips up and down and around, tracing little swirling patterns along her flushed skin, causing her to bite her lip and shudder in pleasure.

Finally, she could apparently take no more teasing, so she raised herself up just a bit farther. His cock slipped, seemingly of it's own accord, to her entrance. Slowly and carefully, she lowered herself down, millimetre by intense millimetre—his hands on her hips to help stabilize her—as his fully erect, throbbing cock slipped into her.

Farther and farther she dropped, slowly encasing his cock in tight, slick, velvety flesh. When she hit bottom, she stopped and just clung to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked with some concern. She was incredibly tight and he was worried that she might be in some pain. She nodded against his chest and mumbled something that he didn't hear.

He asked her to repeat it and she said, "Just need a minute. To adjust."

"Take all the time you need." He slipped his hand under her hair and gently tucked it back over her shoulder, admiring the way it shone in the moonlight streaming from the enchanted ceiling. He couldn't believe how beautiful she looked in the dim lighting of the Great Hall—her eyes reflecting the countless stars in the night sky.

After a few short moments, she started moving, lifting herself up a bit and dropping back down and then repeating the action. Slowly her movements increased in both speed and distance until she was bouncing the full length of his cock. He held her hips, then moved a hand to her arse, then allowed one to venture to a breast, which, as he and estimated earlier, seemed perfectly sized for his hands. Her hands remained on his shoulders for the most part, occasionally running along his upper arms before returning to their job of stabilizing her motions.

"Oh, God, Luna," said Harry. "This is unbelievable."

"As good as the others, Harry?" she panted.

"Better than most," he replied. "If not all."

"Are you just saying that?" she asked.

"I'm not. Honestly," he said. And it was true. Perhaps there was something about her pussy that stimulated his cock in a different way or perhaps it was the moment they'd shared when she'd cried or something about being drawn to her as he had been.

He'd always thought that Gabby was perfect—the way she felt on his cock, the way she seemed to know just what he needed. She was his sex toy after all. Her purpose was to excite and stimulate him. Luna was different but somehow equally perfect. He didn't understand how it was possible, but he didn't know any other way to explain it to himself.

The feel of her tight channel, slipping and sliding over his shaft, massaging and caressing it, was pure bliss for Harry. His cock throbbed and her cunt twitched and their bodies moved together as though choreographed. Her hair danced around her shoulders and played over her breasts and back as she fucked herself on him. Just when he was feeling close to his release, however, she stopped her thrusting and ground herself down on him. Their lips found each other and a passionate kiss ensued, tongues dancing, lips teasing, breath swirling. As though she knew that his need to come had passed, she broke the kiss and began moving once more.

It was less than two minutes later that she tossed her head back and screamed his name as she came for the first time with him. He reached down and found her clit, rubbing and stroking it to lengthen her orgasm. For what seemed a very long time to Harry, Luna jerked and writhed and spasmed in climax, still doing her best to pump up and down on his cock, until finally, she just couldn't seem to take it any more and stopped, shoving his teasing fingers away for good measure.

She lay against his chest, panting and gasping, the occasional twitch coursing though her body. His cock was begging for more stimulation but for the moment, Luna needed to recover.

"I've never come that hard," she said. "Though it's not often that I get some private time to do anything."

He contented himself with placing little kisses on her shoulders and neck and in her hair. Almost before he knew it, she was moving again—thrusting up and down, bouncing in his lap. He was closer this time, but then again, so was she. It would be a question of who would get there first.

He moved his hands to her gorgeous tits and kneaded the pliant flesh. She moaned and whimpered at his touch. She slowed her thrusting enough to bend down and seek out his mouth with hers. She pulled his head up into a steamy, passion-filled kiss even as she rode his cock. He squelching, wet, slapping sounds of their connected sexes filled the Hall and echoed off the stone walls as she broke the kiss and returned to her previous speed.

His hands slid down her body, along the sides of her abdomen, over her hips and caressed her bouncing thighs before making the return journey. She was moaning nearly constantly, occasionally calling out his name and the pressure and slipperiness on his cock was eliciting a similar reaction from him. He leaned forward and managed to capture one of her breasts with his mouth, doing his best to tongue and kiss the sensitive nipple before offering the same treatment to it's twin.

Without warning, her moans became squeals and her cunt began clasping and grasping at his cock with an all new ferocity. Finally, she cried out and came again, and again, Harry stroked and teased her clit to keep her release going as long as she could stand it.

Once she had come down and started to move again, it was clear that she had decided that it was Harry's turn. She concentrated more on stimulating him, running her hands over sensitive areas of his body, working her cunt muscles in a way that he was surprised she even knew, kissing him and licking and nibbling spots that he'd never found sexy before. All of it served to drive him to the brink of orgasm—a place where she seemed instinctively to know how to hold him indefinitely.

She would carefully speed up and slow down her bouncing and sometimes just stop and grind when he was too close.

Finally, she didn't pull back and, with a grunt, he came, spilling himself inside her as she slowly and expertly raised and lowered herself on him, drawing out his climax, just as he had hers. He felt as though he'd come for hours by the time he was done—his cock nearly sore from the effort of expelling his fluids into her welcoming cunt.

As he expected, a soft golden glow started at the spot where they were joined and flowed over them before fading to nothingness.

They each caught their breath and then met each other's eyes.

Luna leaned in and kissed him. It was gentle and sweet and caring, yet still managed to be the kiss of two people who had been intimate and would be again.

When the kiss was over, she pulled him into a hug and said, "That was perfect. Thank you, Harry."