A/N:
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Oh, and DISCORD! /EDHf6ZG

Trigger Warnings for this chapter: Noncon-play (it is consensual, however). Still might squick some folks. MORESO, the consequences of Harry's decision a couple chapters ago rear their very ugly head. Character death. This is, however, an important moral turning point for Harry and crucial for his growth into the person he'll become.

Chap. 47: Crimson Stains

On Wednesday, while Ron, Harry, and Ginny were all at Quidditch Practice and Neville and Hannah were both in the Gryffindor Common Room being helped with their homework, most of the staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were in a regular meeting, one held once a month on the fourth Wednesday.

"So," Dumbledore opened, looking around the room genially, though with some signs of fatigue in his aged eyes, "Two months back at Hogwarts. How fare things, my friends? Anything of note?"

"Ravenclaw is calm, for the most part," Filius Flitwick squeaked, though with much less cheer than the Headmaster might have wanted, even if it was not unexpected, "though rumors continue to circulate about the whereabouts of Miss Brocklehurst. Some of the newer ones claim that she and Miss Vane ran off together, that they were then affected by some sort of flora or fauna in the Forbidden Forest, and that Miss Brocklehurst died as a result while Miss Vane barely survived, having been driven mad."

"Altogether too close to the truth, in some respects," dear Minerva grumbled from his right, "aside from the fact that we don't know yet why either girl disappeared, or what happened to Miss Vane. No word from her family, yet, or the Healers?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "I am afraid not. The last news I got was already relayed to you all, that Miss Vane will be coming back next month if all goes according to schedule, after significant mental retraining and calibration. Her... illness has proven most stubborn, yet the Healers believe she will be safe to permit back among the student body by that time, if we undertake certain precautions."

"Such as?" Sirius Black, his partner in teaching Defense this year, asked quietly.

The old wizard sighed, "That, I am still working on. Some preliminary options include keeping her in a separate dorm, similar to how Mr. Potter and his group stay most nights, though for obvious reasons Miss Vane would need to be locked in. She will also have an escort, of sorts, in a House Elf dedicated to removing her from any situation in which she loses control of herself for the foreseeable future, up to and including her graduation from Hogwarts. There are more plans, of course, but those are some we have all agreed will likely be necessary."

There was a round of grumbling conversation around the room, though no one disputed his plans. After all, he had been in charge of the school for a long time, and had let far more dangerous students into the school with the proper precautions, Remus Lupin among them. How dangerous could one sex-addicted girl be?

Not, of course, that most of the current staff considered Remus Lupin dangerous. Most of them, in fact, were his friends. But he was still a werewolf, and when he'd been attending the school himself, Wolfsbane had not yet been discovered.

"Hufflepuff is doing well," Professor Sprout supplied as the conversation wound down, "though I'm a bit alarmed at the sheer number of students I've witnessed engaging in activities of the, shall we say, carnal variety. There's always some, of course, but frankly, it's getting a bit out of hand."

"The same in Slytherin," Slughorn said with a chuckle, "though it's not everyone, of course, and my own House tends to be a bit sneakier about it. Still, I can't blame them. 'Tis that time of their lives, isn't it?"

Dumbledore frowned. He, himself, had long since aged past any part of his life where such urges were viable, though he well remembered the last time he'd truly been attracted to someone, and what it had felt like. The rush of desire, flaming hot, and the quivering nerves as he wondered in the dark hours of the night if that affection was returned...

The Headmaster shook his head, returning his attention back to the vociferous discussion of all the points that had been taken away in the House Cup, and how little it seemed to matter to the students involved. In fact, all four Houses, to one extent or another, were close to rivaling the all-time lows that Gryffindor had at the end of the previous year, when the delightful Dolores Umbridge had been in charge of the school. Months, and no House had more than seventy points, when the average by that point was a hundred fifty or more? Shocking, to say the least. Still... "Yes, I believe we have all seen it, yet there is little we can do, unless someone has some sort of suggestion as to the cause of the behavior. I know that Mr. Potter has been fairly discrete in his usage of his new companion's company. Furthermore the number of students invited to his chambers, while it continues to grow, does not seem to be encouraging the behavior in others."

McGonagall's lips, already thin, tightened further at the mention of the Succubus, but she said nothing, only crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair as a few more ideas were raised.

As the meeting progressed, Dumbledore found much of the school was going as he had expected. No one had any ideas (though there were quite a few with suspicions) of who might have caused the disappearance of either of the girls that had gone missing that year, and many of the staff, after more than a month since the disappearances, were now leaning toward putting the case of Miss Brocklehurst into the 'mysterious death' category or writing her off as a runaway, despite being from, by all accounts, a relatively happy home and leaving all her belongings behind aside from the clothes on her back and her wand.

Eventually, all of the teachers had said their piece, bringing it down to the last members of the staff. Madam Pomfrey rarely spoke up much at the meetings, yet today she raised her wand in the traditional method of getting one's attention, then stood up. "I'm afraid I have some bad news, though it's not entirely unexpected. You all know that we see two or three cases of a witch coming up pregnant a year, and have since Hogwarts' inception. You are also all aware, as we've already discussed, the recent rise in sexual activity between the students. Well... there's a correlation."

"What do you mean?" Professor Burbage asked, eyes wide, "Are...?"

His medi-witch colleague nodded gravely, "Just so. In the last month, I've had no fewer than nine girls come to me with worries. Fortunately, only three were confirmed positive, but that's more in the first four weeks of school than in an entire year. If this trend continues, we won't have a single girl of child-bearing years who isn't pregnant by the end of the school year. We must find a way to curb the activity, or at least to ensure that the students are being safe."

Dumbledore frowned. That was not good news, not at all. He suspected Harry, as he'd told the other staff, was being quite safe with his partners, and with his influence, it wasn't likely that young Ronald or Mr. Longbottom were all that reckless, either. But the others, outside his immediate circle of influence... "I agree, this must be solved quickly. Does anyone have any ideas at the moment? No...? Then we will adjourn, and pick this matter up as an item of urgency at the next meeting. I want your best ideas, all of them in fact, in one month's time. Even that time seems dreadfully long, so if you, any of you, come up with an idea you believe will work, please come tell me immediately. Thank you."

As the meeting broke up, Dumbledore stared sightlessly into the table, distracted from much of his thoughts about other matters with the problem Poppy had just laid bare before all of them. If he had not been so lost in thought, he might have noticed several of his teachers giving each other bedroom eyes, or whispering about times and places to meet up themselves, and drawn a more worrisome conclusion that it wasn't just the students who were growing increasingly in sexual activity.

But he noticed nothing, and those teachers affected were so caught up in their own plans for a rendezvous or another that they didn't notice or care, either.

Saturday afternoon that week brought another surprise for Harry. Two, in fact, though he only thought of one as a pleasant thing. Lilith had recovered, which meant they could do another orgy, one with the benefit of powering up Ron or Neville, or even Hannah, though Lilith recommended the witch wait a few more weeks to 'grow into' or adjust to her first set of Runes. As the blonde's mouth had been full of Neville's cock while Ron pounded her from behind while both Hermione and Ginny went down on Harry, she hadn't found room to complain.

But both boys claimed to be too tired for something that intense, so Harry decided it would be fine to wait a week or so, and perhaps put together a larger party for the group to enjoy. But, since neither relished the thought of adding more males and not adding females, it sort of limited their options.

Which was why Harry had gone in search of Mandy Brocklehurst. It was time, he thought, to reveal that he'd known her location for a couple of weeks now, that she'd elected to be a spy for him, to feed him information. And, since she appeared to be quite used to being available sexually, Harry also thought he might kill two Harpies with one spell, and invite her to participate in the orgy as well, when it was ready.

He smiled, pleased that Draco hadn't been occupying the room, for he'd yet to get the Room of Requirement to open for anything while he was using it, though he'd caught Goyle shagging Mandy once more, and joined him again for a few minutes of fun.

All his good cheer vanished as he shut the door behind him, though.

The smell of copper and iron in the air was unmistakable, though it was a stronger stench than Harry had ever smelled before.

As soon as he stepped around the first pile of debris, he saw why.

The poor girl had been dismembered, likely with a great bloody battle axe by the looks of it, for it lay nearby with a more red coating on top of the older brown one. Harry could not look away as he stepped woodenly forward, blood pounding in his ears as his vision narrowed to a tiny speck of light surrounded by black.

She was still tied to the table. Most of her, anyway.

Mandy had been cut apart at the knees, the lower legs and feet (also cut off, harshly, as if for practice), lying haphazardly where they had fallen, two pieces beneath the table and two beside it. Her hands had been severed too, but Harry guessed not before her fingers were each broken, one by one, into agonizing positions. They'd also been cut off at the elbows, but the hands had been placed over the ruins of her breasts, which had been hacked into once, vertically, as well. Between her legs, another cut would have followed her slit, if it hadn't been off-place by about half an inch, bisecting the lower nine inches or so of her abdomen and cleaving into the table. That was a bloody mess.

The last bit Harry forced himself to see through his dizzying daze was her face, twisted in fear and pain beyond what Harry could comprehend. Surely, even the Cruciatus could not illicit such a terrible, wrenching expression? No, surely not. He had felt it, and it could not feel like this. Her head, at least, was attached, and her face, aside from the expression she'd worn when she died, unmarked and undamaged. Yet Mandy's throat had been cut in a most cruel fashion, too. There was no weapon that could have done it, but Harry knew with a moment's inspection that whoever had cut her throat open had done so to let her finally bleed out past the magically-cauterized wounds, but just gone deep enough with the rending, tearing blade to open one of the major vessels in her neck. Most of the lacerations were much more shallow, and at odd angles for a knife, but there were more than twenty cuts in all that Harry dumbly counted, many of them pulling flesh up and out as if it were done with a brillo pad and incredible force.

"Mandy," he whispered, "I'm so sorry... if I'd known..."

Slowly, Harry sank to his knees.

There was no reply.

No ghost of Mandy Brocklehurst ever haunted Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But when his very worried Succubus tracked him down by following the devastation in his heart some half-hour later, she, crying open tears herself, made one statement and asked a simple question. "I can make you forget if you want me to. Would you like to forget?"

For a long time, that was the only memory he had of that half-hour span of time, and what he'd found there. He knew that it involved Mandy, for he remembered every other visit. He knew that she had died.

But there was no memory of how, or of her torturous end.

In fact, all Harry could remember was a rather pleasant half hour with Mandy, then Lyra joining them for a bit more, and then...

Harry, randy as ever, desperate for something, perked up as he watched Lavender Brown leave the girl's loo. It was just before curfew, and she was alone on the third floor near Gryffindor Tower, likely on her way to the Common Room.

The perfect opportunity, in other words, to give them both what they wanted.

Harry drew his wand as she passed his cloak-hidden form, and followed the girl for a few feet before whispering, "Muffliato."

She didn't seem to notice entering the effects of the small space around Harry as he moved closer, for the people inside the muffling spell could hear things just fine. It was only outside the spell's area that sounds inside it were hidden and concealed. Which makes it perfect for this, Harry thought.

With a tap of his wand on the top of his head, Harry followed Lavender for another twenty feet while the feeling of cold eggs running down his neck faded, then he removed the cloak and folded it quickly into his pockets, glad as ever that it seemed to possess the rare magical property of being nearly two-dimensional, able to fold into the tiniest of spaces. Then he hurried forward faster as they neared the last broom closet before the hallway that ended in the Fat Lady's portrait.

Harry's hand clapped around her mouth, clenching tightly, and he used his body to ram the witch, pushing her up against the wall next to the door, while his free hand fumbled to open it. Lavender struggled, kicking his shins and trying to bite his hand. Both arms scrabbled against his brawnier one, and Harry could only believe that, given how hard she struggled, if he weren't enhanced by Lilith's magic, she might well have escaped.

In fact, she almost did, until after Harry had the door open. Then he reached a hand beneath the girl's legs, grabbed her cunt from behind, and bodily lifted her into the broom-closet, then let go only long enough to shut the door and hiss, "Colloportus, Impervio."

The door, locked manually and now immune to magical effects for a time, could only be opened by the key or his death, which would end both spells. And, frankly, the odds of Filch wandering into this closet when so many were likely close-by were abysmally small, not that Harry felt like he couldn't handle the squib if it came down to it. All that, though, meant that what he first growled to Lavender, voice husky with need and anger that welled up inside him from some unknown source, was true.

"It's just you and me, pretty. No one's coming to save you."

Still, the witch struggled, kept trying to bite his hand, or kick higher, past his knees. Then she went for her wand. Harry was faster, though, Quidditch-honed reflexes born of survival instinct served him well once again, and he snatched it from her hand, tossing it to the floor. He pushed against her again, sending her into the wall chest-first, then moved his hand from her mouth to her throat, not tightly, just enough to hold her while he fumbled at his zipper clumsily with his off-hand.

She screamed, high and loud, and for a moment Harry panicked. People could've heard that in the Common Room. Then he remembered his earlier spell, the first he'd cast, and laughed. "Sorry- they can't hear, you know, pretty. Like I said, just you and me. And we're gonna have some fun."

Lavender screamed again, both hands now pulling on his fingers, but they didn't budge an inch. Lilith had made him impossibly strong compared to the teenage girl, and her frantic efforts were as effective at moving him as a few caterpillars. Harry, cock finally free, bent just low enough to get his head past her skirt, then stood and pressed himself into her arse, grinding against the thin material, silk maybe, and the warm, soft flesh beneath it.

Lavender whimpered, and tried to stomp on his shin, but Harry moved away just in time. Then, with a swish of his wand, he conjured a blindfold. With another flick, it animated with a charm he'd made up on the spot and flew around her eyes, tying itself behind her head tightly. Then he pulled away from the wall, taking her with him for a moment and grabbed one breast, giving a painful squeeze. "Ah, you've got amazing tits, pretty," Harry rumbled, then was interrupted as the witch raised a foot to the far wall and kicked off against it, sending her crashing into Harry. This time, it was a matter of inertia and mass, and he actually stumbled back one step before catching himself, just brushing against the door at his back. The hand on her tit left her, rising to slap hard across her cheek with a sharp ringing sound. Lavender cried out again, and he felt salty tears on his hand as he pulled away. "Ah, ah- you've begged me for it long enough, pretty. Now you're getting it, whether you fight or not. Best to enjoy it, you might have some fun that way. I know I will!"

He let go of her throat and brought both hands down before she could fight back to rip open the girl's vest and blouse enough to expose the white, cherry-print, muggle-style bra she wore. That, he ripped off completely, shredding the hooks at the back and making Lavender cry out in pain and surprise, too, before he brought both hands to her chest to knead again. "Damn, pretty... I reckon I'm gonna enjoy havin' you."

Harry had been with many girls and women since the end of the previous year, yet none of them, Lilith excluded (and she hardly counted, in his opinion) had a chest like the struggling blonde's. She was larger still than Hermione or Lyra, even, full and round, no sag at all even without the bra, bigger than his hands, and the pillowy flesh swelled around his fingers as they dug in.

Lavender whimpered, and slowly, as he molded her flesh beneath his hands, her struggles began to diminish, though she still wept.

Harry lifted a foot to push at the back of the witch's knees, sending her to the ground, then stepped around her, with a hand on her head to keep her down. He put his cock against her tear-streaked, makeup-run cheek, and she winced. "Put it in yer mouth, pretty," he rasped, "and no teeth. You use those, an' I'll really give you somethin' to cry about."

Whimpering, no doubt praying silently that this would be enough, that her attacker would be satisfied, the blindfolded girl opened her mouth.

Not wide enough, for she sputtered as Harry's massive head pushed past her lips, and he forced himself in and down, down, tilting her head as he bent over until half of his huge length was in the girl's mouth and throat. She slapped his legs again and again, even scratched, but Harry felt none of it, the feeling of her tight throat convulsing on his cock-head enough to push all pain from his mind. Harry pulled back and out after a full thirty seconds, even more hard than before, and yanked Lavender to her feet, quickly spinning her around to face the wall again. He put a hand on her back between her shoulders and pushed down, then flipped her skirt up to run his free hand over her silken, white knickers before ripping them off completely, making her scream again as the cloth tore at her tender flesh

He had seen Lavender's pussy before, but not like this. He'd been seeing it from her point of view, as herself, and knew that she trimmed regularly, so it was no surprise to see no hint of hair between her legs, just the small heart she kept above her clit. Harry was still, despite her words on the train several weeks ago now, surprised to see moisture running down between her legs, and her labia to be puffy and swollen. She's aroused, he realized, she's actually really turned on. Huh. Harry roughly reached out a hand to slap the juicy cunt, and Lavender jumped, yelping, then whimpered, "Please, no," she whispered, "don't... I'll do anything, just- just don't, stop... I don't know who you are, I-"

"Shut up, pretty," Harry growled, slapping the pussy again, harder. This time, she didn't yelp, but did whimper, a quieter, more pained sound. "Don't lie- I know you want this. You're dripping back here. You've always wanted this, haven't you? To have some stranger force himself on you, make you his... Well, it's your lucky day."

"N- No," Lavender whimpered while Harry stood fully, hand now rubbing up and down against her whole groin, "I don't, this isn't-"

He angled himself, and pushed in, hard, forcing the girl to scream out again as he brutally tore through a springy hymen, then pushed straight past her cervix too.

Even with the muffling charm still active, Harry instinctively slapped a hand over Lavender's mouth to stifle the scream, for it was piercing enough to hurt his ears, too. "Ah, there you go, pretty," he rumbled again, wishing, not for the first time, that he had learned the voice-masking charm that Hannah had used, "now you lost that pesky virginity, and to a random stranger in a broom-closet. You dirty fucking slut."

Lavender whimpered again as Harry pulled half-way out and pushed back in, moving in and out of her womb again and again, four times in all, then pulling out until only his fat head was inside her still. "P- P-please," she gasped, "I- I won't tell, I won't, please, please stop!"

Harry reached around to grab her chest again, fondling it roughly, and used the other to grab and pinch softly at Lavender's engorged clitoris, then started moving it more smoothly, thrumming in tiny circles until she was gasping, quivering around him. Then he started moving again, and even through her tears and continued gasps of terror and pain, she climaxed on him, drenching his dick with her juice. "Such a slut," he growled in her ear, now grabbing at her hair to pull her head back and slapping her rump with his other hand, "you fuckin' came from being raped. What kind of slut are you?"

"Wh- Why? Why are you... I- I-"

Behind her, Harry smiled. It wasn't particularly cruel, nor vindictive. In fact, Harry found himself taking no particular pleasure from forcing himself on Lavender. He had started out of rage, yes, at whatever source he couldn't remember, but he also knew that she wanted this on some primal level, because she'd told him so. She wanted to be taken. Right then, he wanted to take her.

So he began slamming in, rough and fast and hard, doing his best to break her body to his cock, ruin her pussy for other men. It wasn't even about his dominance, his power, his control. It was about her, and what she wanted. True, Harry was experiencing intense pleasure and would finish all too quickly, but...

"Oh, God," Lavender cried, "Cum- cumming!"

"I am too, pretty," he grunted, "just... about..."

"N-no, not inside, not inside!" she cried out, "I'll get preg- noo!"

Harry had flexed, making her think...

But no, he wasn't that heartless.

Instead, Harry yanked himself out, spun her about again, and pushed the girl to her knees, shoving his dick into her mouth as he blew. By instinct, perhaps, despite the horror of the situation for her, Lavender's beautiful, swollen lips closed around his head and she started to swallow rapidly, again and again. It wasn't enough.

Soon, her cheeks were bulging, and he could see her eyes widen beneath the blindfold. Harry kept grunting, pumping his cock with one hand, the other holding her in place with a hand fisted in the wavy blonde hair, until his thick seed began to ooze, then run from Lavender's mouth onto her luscious, white boobs.

Her hands came up to push him away, and slowly, Harry pulled himself free. She coughed the moment she could, sending a spray of his jizz and her saliva all over Harry's trousers, shoes, and the floor, but most rushed down her chin to swing a few times before falling onto her tits, adding to the already four tablespoons on them.

Carefully, wand at the ready, Harry reached for the blindfold a few seconds later, and pulled it off, face neutral. "Hi, Lavender."

"H- Harry? What- what are-"

"We need to talk," he grimaced, not really regretting what they'd just done, but beginning to wonder if this was what she'd really wanted, after all. Because the tears and makeup on her face, the gasping, the evident pain, the shock she'd gone into, for her pupils were wildly dilated...

The girl launched herself at him, and for a moment Harry feared for his life. But Lavender Brown did not attack him. Instead, she flung her arms around his neck as they crashed back into the wall and slid down it, ending her sitting on his lap, his half-stiffy trapped beneath her thighs, as she sobbed into his chest. Confused, Harry awkwardly reached around to pull her close and began stroking her back with his fingertips, cupping her head against him while she cried in great, heaving sobs. The smell of sex, his semen mostly, filled the small closet, for Lavender didn't bother cleaning up.

After a few minutes of the cloying odor growing more thick, Harry reached across and picked the blindfold up off the floor and started wiping, cleaning the girl's lipstick-smeared mouth, then chin, before casting the scouring charm at the cloth and even more tenderly cleaning her huge round tits and the space between them before vanishing the whole lot. Lilith could do without one of his loads. As he worked, Lavender's crying slowed and softened, until she was only occasionally shaking, trembling really, reduced to sniffles and whimpers as tears continued to widen the wetness on his shirt. "I won't ask if you're alright," he eventually said quietly, pulling her against him again and adjusting his feet to a more comfortable position but keeping Lavender on his lap, "I know you aren't. I'm sorry if I was too forceful, but you'd said you wanted... wanted it rough, and I..."

He took a deep breath. Lavender didn't even seem to be listening, and didn't say anything either. How could he make it right if she didn't tell him what was wrong? Besides the obvious, but hadn't she...? "I don't know why- what came over me, Lavender," he eventually admitted, "I've just been so... angry, the last few hours. You didn't do anything wrong, you didn't deserve... this. I'm sorry. If you want, I'll... I'll go to Dumbledore, tell him everything.

"You are a sweet, good person, who truly didn't deserve that. I admire you, to be honest, for how you fight for what you believe in, fight for what you want, and... well, obviously I think you're beautiful. Everyone does. But that doesn't give me the right, not in any way, and I'm sorry. So sorry, I didn't want to hurt you."

He was about to keep talking, trying (and probably failing) to explain, when Lavender sniffled again, and spoke for the first time in quite a while. Her voice was hoarse from her cries and earlier yells, almost raspy in a smoky sort of way that sent an entirely different thrill through Harry's body as she did, "I said it- last year. You're a good bloke, H-Harry. I... I was so scared, and it hurt so much, but I... I liked it, too. I knew it was you. I saw you as you pushed me against the wall in the corridor. But I-"

"You lied to me?" Harry interrupted, completely confused.

Slowly, Lavender nodded against his chest. "I... when I was little, maybe ten, before I even got my letter for Hogwarts, my mum was attacked. She-"

"Oh, god, I can't believe... and now I've- with you, and-"

Lavender put a hand over Harry's mouth and continued, "The man wasn't nice. She never told my dad, but I heard her telling one of her friends. Told her everything, I think, while I was playing in the other room. But I listened, and... when puberty started to hit a few months later, it sort of... became an obsession. I thought I'd hate it, Harry. A girl should hate being attacked and violated."

"I-"

"No, ssh. Just listen. A girl should. But I... I didn't. I mean, a part of me did, but I knew it was you, and I... I wanted you to. I didn't fight as hard as I could have. If I'd done what I should have, I might've gotten away."

"You... let me?"

Harry could not believe it, but Lavender nodded against him again, "I did. And it was... well, it hurt, and... and I want it again. I must be a slut, because I... I liked it, Harry. I don't think I'd want it every time. The 'normal' way, with some tenderness and care is probably great, too, but... sometimes, like I said on the train, I... like it a bit rough."

"A bit," Harry laughed, unable to help himself, "that wasn't a bit. Even if you were willing, I still raped you, Lavender. How's that okay?"

In response, Lavender rose and turned to face him, then lowered herself to straddle his waist and took his half-erect cock in hand. "It's okay because I wanted you to. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you I knew, but would you have gone through with it if you had?"

Harry shook his head, feeling even more confused. "Probably- not."

And why did her hand have to feel so good? He wasn't in the mood (oddly) for sex, not with everything that had just transpired, yet...

As soon as he was hard enough, which took about ten seconds, Lavender angled him toward her and sank down, wincing as he entered her again, until she was once more on his lap. After she had adjusted to his presence inside her body again, the girl tugged open her shirt a bit more. "Play with me, Harry? I lost my virginity tonight, and I want my lover to be gentle with me, too."

He was more confused than ever, but even with all his experience Harry was still a teenaged boy and had a hard time saying no to a gorgeous pair of tits in his face. He reached out, frowning, to test their heft with his own hands, then started the work of making love to the same girl he'd just forced himself on.

Lavender sighed as his hands started working her body, and closed hers together behind Harry's neck. Then she started to rise, wincing again, taking a few seconds to reach the top of his shaft. Then she sank down again, sighing. "Still tender, but... gods, you feel good in me, Harry."

"You feel- unh- r- really good, too, Lavender," Harry grunted as she tightened, somehow, around his length then released, "I... I'm so sorry."

"Stop," she murmured, moving a bit faster and leaning over him to press her lips to Harry's sweaty forehead, "I've said... I knew it was you, and I did want it. It was... I enjoyed it, Harry, truly. Just like- like I'm- mmm- enjoying it right-mm- now. Maybe I am a slut... still bloody and I'm loving my second time."

As she rode his lap, Harry's mind raced even while he enjoyed the girl's body. Magic welled up within him through the connection with Lilith he had, focused in his soul, and was refined by his emotions as it moved out of his body through his eyes and mouth, this time with intent. "Swear you'll be mine," he whispered, lifting his head a bit so his lips brushed against hers as she rose and fell. "Swear you will be my slave, and I will own you fully. You'll obey my every command, and I will care for you as a lord cares for a prized servant."

Lavender could see the wisps of light, soft pink-white, rising from Harry's mouth as he spoke, burning incandescent behind his brilliant green irises, and knew something was happening, for his words clenched at her heart, her mind, and deep within her body, where the depths of his cock were brushing. For her, the excitement multiplied five-fold and she started rocking, too, driving herself up and down with abandon on him as she cried out, "I swear, Harry, I swear! Make me your slave! Use me, love me, own me!"

His cock swelled, and Lavender gasped, but her motions didn't cease as his erection grew at least another inch, in fact her motions sped up further still, until her sweaty body shook uncontrollably in a ferocious climax. Her clenching vagina pulled out Harry's too, and he filled her to the brim, grunting as he pulled her further down onto him, his massive cock leaving no room for his equally huge load to go, so that it flooded her ovaries and then gushed out onto the floor, dribbling down his sack. Before she pulled off, Harry murmured, "With this, I have claimed your pleasure. It is mine to command."

"Yours," Lavender gasped, then giggled when he lifted her up by the armpits, barely struggling to stand even while holding her aloft with his new strength.

Harry grinned, turned her around again, and then ordered, "On your hands and knees, slave."

Lavender hesitated a moment, then obeyed. While she moved, Harry focused on returning his erection to something more like his usual, and even a bit smaller, then took a position behind her on his knees in the broom-closet. He spat down onto her rear after spreading her cheeks, then gathered up some of his cum from his own sack, where it hung down in stringy ropes, and slathered it on too, before prodding at her anus with his cock-head. "N- not there," Lavender gasped, "I've never-unhh!"

It wasn't the pained sound Harry had expected her to make as he pushed past the tight sphincter. In fact, it had melted from a surprised gasp to a murmur of sibilant pleasure before he'd shoved his manhood more than half-way into the girl's untouched ass. "I've claimed your pleasure," Harry intoned as he started to slowly stroke, "and you will forever gain pleasure from taking any phallic object in your ass, won't you, slave?"

"Yes, M-Master," the witch cried out, throwing her head back as he started to hump her again, "my cunt and my ass are yours! Use me!"

"Oh, I will," Harry said with a knowing growl, reaching for her hands and yanking her torso up a bit by holding her wrists so that Lavender arched outward, her thick, luxurious hair waving and swinging, covered in salty sweat, as he pounded her virginal bum relentlessly.

After a few more minutes, he felt her squirt, even without touching the girl's genitals directly, against his thighs. That was Harry's cue to ejaculate himself, filling her lower intestines until her normally flat stomach started to bulge faintly. Then, hunched over the girl, who panted beneath him to catch breath long driven from her lungs, he continued, "With this, I claim your pain and your body. You are mine to do with as I will."

"Yes, M- Master! Yours!"

Her exuberance wasn't lost on Harry, who pulled out, quite erect still, and stood up to lean back against the wall opposite the door. "Clean my cock with your mouth, slave," he ordered, "every drop of it. Swallow it all."

"Y- Yes..."

This time, there wasn't hesitation, but Harry could see that Lavender's mind had, somehow, been clouded, for her eyes shone with the same pink light Romilda's had. But while her mental breaking had been forced on her, and delivered by him unknowingly and without control, this time Harry had some inkling of what he was doing. He expected the results would be somewhere between a Thrall, as Dean now was to Lilith, and the complete subjugation of Romilda's mind. The shaking in Lavender's single word command was because she was already licking at his length, using hands and mouth together to scoop up his essence and shovel it into her orifice. She was clumsy and unused to the detail, but Harry groaned anyway as she pulled his balls into her mouth to lick them clean, then worked up his shaft, down his thighs, and finally to the now two puddles on the floor which she sucked up as well. Despite the disgusting... whatever that had been on the floor, the lust-addled girl turned her head to Harry and looked up at him with an open mouth, clean of semen.

"Good, slave," he murmured, "Now... you will service me with your mouth. I expect my slaves to develop a skill for it."

"I've only ever had two boys in my mouth, Master," she whispered, looking suddenly nervous.

"Then you had best start practicing. Besides, you handled yourself adequately on the train, slave. Get to it."

Lavender lurched forward onto him, immediately taking Harry's straining dick into her mouth, and closed both hands around his base, already pumping while the rest of her body caught up. Then she started sucking powerfully, taking more and more of him into her. "Use your tongue, slave," he commanded, "lick while you suck."

This time, she obeyed at once, and Harry was treated to the sight of the beautiful girl's swollen lips being tugged around his cock, and her cheeks hollowing with suction as she did her best to emulate Hermione's skill. "Deeper," he told her.

She tried gamely, forcing him past her tonsils once, twice, then as many as seven times, but she gagged on each push, and couldn't seem to break the threshold. So Harry grabbed her by the head and forced her down onto him, past the angle of her throat, until he was fully buried in hot wetness again. "Like that, slave," he grunted, pulling off a couple inches then slamming her all the way back down again, in awe of how amazing the head of his fat cock felt against her throat as it forced it to open more than food ever could.

Lavender didn't fight back, didn't raise her hands to his thighs. Instead, she shoved one hand between her legs and started jerking it in tiny circles, and the other fisted against her round tits, burying two full knuckles into one of them as she screamed around his cock. So Harry started fucking her face and throat as he had on the train instead, hyper-aware of each ridge on her tongue as it flexed and moved along the bottom of his shaft, each miniscule bump of her lips as they sucked on him, and the tighter grasping of her tonsils, the scraping uvula, and the flexing power of her throat as it tried to swallow him whole. "Come for me, slave."

She did, suddenly, eyes rolling back in her head as her hips jerked wildly, another puddle of her squirt moving past her fingers to add to the mess on the floor Harry kept shagging her mouth while she rode through it, then said, "Again."

Immediately, she climaxed for the fourth, maybe fifth time. Another order quickly followed as she came down from the rush. "When I finish, you'll swallow every drop, even if it lands on the floor, and you'll come again only when you've gotten the last one. Then you'll go back to your dorm room, acting perfectly normal and not telling anyone about this whole time in the cupboard. Next Saturday night, you will know about a rendezvous taking place with some of our friends. You will be there, and I will reward you with pleasure again."

"Yes, Master," Lavender acknowledged, speaking only after he'd pulled out of her mouth enough to do so.

"Good. Until then, here is another order, which will stay in place until I say otherwise... unless I die. You will pleasure yourself for one hour every day before sleep, but you will not climax. You will not climax until I tell you it is allowed, or I am dead. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," she gurgled at once, as he pushed back in and resumed rutting as if she were a toy for his pleasure.

Which, I suppose she is now, Harry thought. The knowledge that he may as well own the girl completely, now that he had effectively enslaved her in truth through his magic should have filled Harry with guilt. Instead, it only trebled his desire for her. He grunted as the pleasure in his loins swelled again, and he once more buried himself deep in Lavender's throat. "With- with this, I claim your servitude. You are mine to command, utterly."

"Mm, mmffrr!"

While he continued to climax and she swallowed over and over again, Harry slowly pulled her off him, so that his last few spurts landed in her open mouth and over her glorious tits. "Another standing order," he murmured softly, "if Lyra- Lilith is her real name- isn't present and you bring me pleasure, you are to clean me with your mouth every time I climax. Begin now."

This time, she was considerably more practiced and there was less mess, but Harry was still hard by the time she finished again. Still, he ordered her up anyway. "Dress, slave. Remember what I've said- nothing happened in this closet, you can tell no one of it, but you will remember it all. You will obey my commands. And a tidbit, one additional detail. When you pleasure yourself at night? You are not to close your bed-curtains or silence them. If your roommates decide to join you, then you may experience climaxes, but only brought about by them. If that happens, you will report to me the next day at breakfast for further instructions."

"Yes, Master," Lavender said, voice subdued and husky, her throat clearly raw from being so stretched.

"Good. Now, get going."

She was gone a few seconds later. Harry waited a few more, donned his father's Invisibility Cloak once more and left, only canceling the muffling charm when he was several corridors away.

Glossary: