December

Harry sat alone by the window of The Three Broomsticks, observing his school mates in silence, and took a long sip of mead. Some of them were shooting him looks in turn, but none dared venture too close to him, as if he were a leper.

This was the result of Voldemort's campaign to make his life hell. The Dark Lord figured that, without Harry's friends, he would be much weaker and won't have much to fight for. He set out to kill anyone who was close to him, unable as ever to catch Harry himself. It wasn't exactly a new tactic; all four of Harry's grandparents were murdered by the Death Eaters simply because his parents defied them. It was the same reason so very few people in Britain dared to oppose Voldemort's forces. The Death Eaters played dirty, and no one wanted their family and friends to become targets. Just thinking of it made Harry ache for revenge. With almost all of his friends dead, it was the only thing he had left fighting for.

Even the few remaining friends he still had were not left untouched by the war. Last week, Remus Lupin was forced to flee the country, because Dolores Umbridge passed legislation that made all werewolves illegal. She only got away with it because of the fear that Fenrir Greyback and his pack had spread in the population, with Voldemort's backing. It was infuriating how both sides of the conflict were so stupid and narrow minded.

Romilda Vane shot him a smile as she walked by, but even she, who would shamelessly push him onto broom closets and ask him to ravage her in the past, didn't have it in her to come any closer. Harry's eyes tracked her curvy figure as she entered the ladies' restroom. His thoughts wandered to what the two of them could have done in that restroom, in another time. Going at it with Daphne was great, but there really wasn't that element of passionate, genuine lust coming from her. At least, outside of that one time after she had put Ginny out of her misery. She only really got off on domination and torture.

The restroom's door opened and out came Pansy Parkinson. For once, she didn't walk like a wannabe runway model. On the contrary, she looked timid and small, almost like she was trying to go unnoticed. Harry tracked her rear while she left the inn, thinking of what he'd like to do to her slutty little body. He had lately developed fantasies for fucking his enemies, a very different form of sex from his usual lovemaking; violent and primal and rough. Making a prideful, snide bitch like Pansy choke on his cock was certainly an attractive way to get back at her for years of jeering and harassment.

Romilda Vane came out of the restroom and walked by, not sparing him a glance this time. She headed out for the entrance that Pansy had just left through, but her friend hurried to grab her hand.

"Romi! Where are you going?" the friend called in surprise.

"Back to the castle," Romilda said tonelessly, and started walking away, but her friend held her in place.

"What do you mean? We still haven't gone to Twilfitt. What do you have to do in the boring castle that's better than trying on the new collection?"

"Need to make a delivery," Romilda wrenched her hand free from her friend. Harry noticed that her other hand was holding on to a wrapped shawl.

"Delivery? To who?"

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Prof… Romi, what are you talking about, you can do this later—" the friend tried to grab Romilda again. The curvy girl pushed her away with her shawled hand, and then it happened.

The shawl unwound, and a shiny opal necklace fell down to the floor with a clung. Romilda reached a hand to grab it, when suddenly she was lifted into the air and began to scream.

Chaos erupted in the tightly packed inn. Harry, who was paying close attention to the situation, quickly conjured a shield around the necklace, to make sure no one accidentally touched it, and then left the place once the patrolling Aurors arrived to take control of the situation.

He sauntered through the snow as fast as he could without catching attention. Once he was out of the village, he simply cast a spell to blow the snow out of his path, and rushed towards the castle.

Halfway there, he saw the back of Pansy, walking glumly at the side of the road, her hands crossed on her chest. The loud, strong winds of a budding blizzard masked the sound of his footsteps, and he quickly closed the distance between them, until, a couple of feet away from her, he called "Expelliarmus!"

Pansy turned her head towards him, her eyes wide as her wand flew to Harry's hand.

"P-P-Potter—"

"P-P-Parkinson!" Harry imitated her with disdain. "You have one second to give me an explanation for what happened to Romilda!"

"I-I don't know—"

"Legilimens!"

He cut through her mind like a Sectumsempra, seeing Malfoy's recent mood swings and outbursts, how he distanced himself from her, which eventually made her willing to help him in his stupid little scheme to gift Dumbledore the cursed necklace. She placed Romilda under the Imperius when they crossed paths in the restroom, while Malfoy had the alibi of a detention with Professor McGonagall.

Harry was already aware that Malfoy was on some mission from Voldemort, and he was also aware that Dumbledore was willing to do absolutely zilch about it. He had too much experience with the ineffective justice system of the Ministry to try and turn Malfoy and Pansy to the Aurors. No, it was time to execute his own brand of justice.

He stunned and Disillusioned Pansy, stashing her in a dusty broom closet, before using the Marauder's Map to find Draco, who was alone in a classroom at a remote corner of the dungeons. Perfect.

The castle was laden with drafts from the blizzard outside, and the corridors were empty. Under cover of the invisibility cloak, Harry made his way down to Draco's location, casting charms to subtly repel visitors in the hallway outside, and opened the door to the classroom.

Draco was brewing something, and judging by the boomslang skin on the table, it was Polyjuice. Harry closed the door and sniffed. "What's cookin', Draco?"

The blond took a moment to hide his surprise and don a familiar sneer. "What do you want, Potter?"

"Just wondering what you're up to with a batch of Polyjuice," Harry advanced on Malfoy with a predatory smile.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you it's impolite to snoop?" Draco spat, and then showed a vicious smile. "Oh, right, I forgot. They're dead."

Harry was way past the point of letting those kind of insults get to him, but he figured he could play with his prey; it would certainly allow him to blow off some steam. "Wow, Draco…" he said quietly. "That hurt."

"Yeah, well, put some Murtlap Essence on it," Draco snorted at his own joke.

Harry tutted, stepping closer to Draco's table. "I mean, that was really mean of you…"

"Do I look like I give a fuck, Potter?" Draco snarled.

Harry shook his head. "Why did you say that, Draco?"

"Because you're interrupting my brewing, asshole!"

"Well, that wasn't very polite," Harry said. "You should apologize."

The blond squinted his eyes and curled his lip. "I'm not gonna apologize to you."

"Come on, don't be a dick," Harry fingers twitched around his wand.

"Leave me alone!"

"Just apologize… please..."

Draco scrunched his nose and inhaled in anger, his face turning red. "I don't know what you're playing at, but—"

"Don't force me to make you apologize," Harry did his best Umbridge impersonation.

"Get the fuck out of here!"

"Draco, just apologize so we can smooth this out and go our ways—"

"Fuck you, Potter!" Malfoy yelled, reaching for his wand.

Harry had no intention of letting that happen, and cast the Marionette curse to take control of Malfoy's body. The blond was struck before he could even touch his wand and suddenly stilled, his face going into shock as his hand involuntarily changed direction and went for his throat, choking it with unnatural force.

"I won't lift the curse until you apologize, Draco," Harry said quietly, leveling his gaze into the blond's terrified eyes. "How long do you think you can go without air? A minute?"

Malfoy was sputtering for air, his face as red as a tomato. "I-I'M SORRY!" he finally choked out.

"Much better," Harry smiled and released the curse.

Draco's hand released his throat and he began breathing quickly. His wide eyes darted to his wand, which still lay at the side of the table, and he dived for it.

Expecting that kind of move, Harry aimed a quick Reducto at the blond's arm, sending him hurtling back at the stone wall.

"AHHH!" Draco cried, clutching his now broken hand as he fell to the floor, whimpering.

"Sorry about that," Harry said with a sheepish smile.

Draco heaved in pain. "No you aren't, you piece of shit!"

Harry sighed. "Look, Draco, I know how to heal it, alright? Just stay still for a second—" Harry leaned down to Draco and tapped his arm with his wand.

Immediately, Draco's arm limped down lifelessly and he stared up at Harry with horror. "What did you do?!" he yelled. "I can't feel my arm at all!"

"Sorry, Lockhart taught me that," Harry grinned. "I guess he was kind of a fraud, wasn't he?"

"You did that on purpose!" the blond cried.

Harry let go of his smile. "You must admit, you brought this on yourself," he said in a voice dripping with contempt. "I mean, trying to attack me again after I let you go? That was a dumb move. Not to mention trying to murder Professor Dumbledore with some stupid scheme involving a cursed necklace and an Imperioed student."

Malfoy's wet, red eyes widened comically in response.

"Oh yeah, I know all about that," Harry said. "Time to face the consequences, my slippery friend."

Tonight, Daphne wore a rigid black suit with white lining and a pin with two lightning bolt symbols on the collar. To top it she had a matching black military cap patched with a white skull, crossbones, and an eagle. Completing the look was a black leather whip.

"Harry, what is this costume?" she asked curiously, looking herself over in the large ornate mirror that the Room of Requirement provided for them.

"It's an SS uniform, love," he smiled at her. "Don't worry about its significance, I just think you look incredibly hot in this."

Daphne tilted her head and tried to take in her appearance from a new angle. There was certainly a dark glamour to the way the rigid black suit contrasted with her delicate features and blonde hair. She wasn't used to wearing pants or boots, but the stiff costume gave her a sense of strict power, which carried on to her look.

She gave the whip a test flick and discovered she liked the sound that it made, as well as how she looked when holding it.

Of course, she would look good in anything. It wasn't just a brag or hypothesis, as Harry himself had found out. He had a thing for uniforms and made her, as well as the Bellatoy, dress up in a variety of costumes: nurse, muggle schoolgirl, secretary, and of course Death Eater. Today, he himself had on blood red Auror robes which lent him an air of authority.

Being Harry Potter's mistress wasn't all that bad, a fact which quite surprised Daphne. Sure, she didn't get to command him like she did all other boys, but after she gave him an Unbreakable Vow not to ever cross him in any way, disobey or escape him, she was relatively free to do as she pleased. Of course, he expected sex from her, but that wasn't all that bad either; he was considerate with her when they would fuck, usually in missionary or in cowgirl position - Daphne's favourite - and he spent a great deal of time on foreplay just worshipping every inch of her perfect body with his tongue and lips, making sure to pleasure her. He truly held affection for her, due to a long-standing crush, and was very thankful after she taught him proper Occlumency.

She only wished the Dark Lord was this easy to please, but he seemed completely asexual, and she definitely wouldn't get into bed with that anyway. No, Harry Potter was the only wizard she knew that was worthy of her.

Harry came over to stand behind her, and peeked at her mirror image, before he straightened her uniform a final time. He caressed her shoulders, planted a kiss on her cheek, and said "You look stunning, mein fraulein. Will you administer the potion to Pansy, please?"

"Of course, Harry," she said in a sweet voice that she knew made him horny, and turned around. With a flirtatious look, she grabbed his tie and tightened it a bit.

Daphne was delighted when Pansy Parkinson joined Draco in enacting his scheme and caused Romilda's death; the pugfaced bitch had been a constant thorn in her side for the past five years, and that's without mentioning the bloody tampons that she left in the bathroom all the time, or the vile fishy scent of her pussy which permeated the unventilated dorm whenever she had one of her hour-long masturbation sessions.

Now Daphne could torture her whichever way she wished to. The bitch's life was completely in Daphne's hands, an intoxicating sensation that she saw Harry enjoying, but she didn't really experience until now, when they brought the wannabe Death Eater along with Pansy to the Room of Requirement, which today took the form of a round, stone bed chamber.

The ferret was hanging upside-down from the ceiling in chains and his eyelids had been removed so he would be forced to watch Pansy below him. She was at the middle of the room, chained down to a bed on her back with her legs spread open, wearing a cute white and blue muggle schoolgirl uniform complete with white knee-high socks and Mary Janes. Like Draco, the little bitch was currently unconscious, and Daphne unceremoniously forced the potion from a little vial down her throat. It wasn't a large dose, just enough to make her slightly horny – which probably wasn't necessary, considering what Daphne knew of the girl.

"Let's get this show started," Harry called, and the light dimmed down so that only a single candelabra lit the room. Daphne began to feel the excitement build within her. While he stepped forward, she moved back to hide in the shadows. With two flicks of his wand, the hostages were drawn awake.

Pansy stirred in her bindings and slowly opened her eyes.

"Good morning, sunshine," Harry said, standing over her. From the side, Daphne could see her eyes widening in horror.

"P-Potter..." Pansy mumbled.

"Tell me, Pansy, how does it feel to be a murderer?" Harry asked. "Does your soul feel any different, or do you simply lack one in the first place?"

"P-Potter... I'm... I'm sorry... please... it was Draco's idea... please let me go... I won't cross you again..."

"Pansy, what are you doing?!" Draco's panicked voice came from above. "Stop talking! Don't say anything!"

Before Pansy could answer her boyfriend, Daphne covered the distance between them in two steps, raised her whip, and flogged Draco's back with all her might.

THWHACK!

Draco let out a high-pitched squeal and then sucked air through his teeth noisily. His eyes fumbled in their sockets, unable to close due to unfortunate lack of eyelids.

"Be quiet, roach," Daphne said haughtily. "The wounds from this whip do not heal, so think twice before you give me a reason to use it."

"Not to mention that I've already extracted every piece of valuable information from your mind while you were knocked out," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"G-Greengrass..." Pansy said. "You... and Potter?"

"An astute observation," Harry cackled. He went to Daphne, wrapped a hand around her waist, and leaned down to kiss her lips. They embraced for several seconds, not bothering to suppress their moans of pleasure. Being drunk on power was the best kind of high, in Daphne's opinion.

"Now, Pansy… while I sort of agree that Dumbledore deserves death, I can't say the same for Romilda. She was just an innocent… okay, not so innocent, bystander. She died because of you. The ancient laws tell us to take an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, and a life for life."

"No, please, I didn't mean to, Draco didn't tell me what would happen, I—"

"You don't give a shit about her death, do you?" Harry said calmly. "Spare me your sniveling; I know you too well. You made your choice, and now you have to face the consequences."

"Y-You're not going to kill me! You don't have the g-guts!" Pansy yelled in a quivering voice.

"Don't I?" Harry asked, smiling cruelly. "Perhaps I should give you a little demonstration of what I'm capable of."

Daphne smiled as he waved his wand, and Pansy was flipped over on her stomach. Before the girl could even settle in her new position, Harry lifted her skirt, grabbed the girl's own wand, and stuck it deep up her asshole.

"AHHHH!" Pansy cried in pain, and Harry slapped both her exposed ass cheeks. He had to admit that Pansy had a really nice ass, round, soft and smooth. She wasn't exactly a looker, and her body was nothing to write home about, but the bitch always liked to flaunt her ass and legs to get the boys' attention with her pretentiously haughty way of walking.

Harry sent his fingers between Pansy's legs to trail over her pink, hairless folds, and parried them open. There was a fair bit of moistness in them. Pansy froze in shock, and he took the opportunity to kneel on top of her, expelling his clothing with a spell. His dick was erect in anticipation and his mind was riding high on that pleasant sensation of control. He rubbed his cock over her pussy.

"No, please, don't do it!" Pansy cried.

"And why not? Would you extend the same courtesy to me, you evil skank? Have you ever considered not being a complete bitch towards me or my friends?" he asked, reveling in vindication.

"I'm… I'm sorry! P-please don—"

Daphne stepped forward and slapped Pansy's cheek. "Stop your mewling, Parkinson. You're only getting what was long overdue."

"She's right, you know," Harry said, grabbing Pansy's throat and leaning in to her ear. "You have to make amends for the death that you caused, and you can begin by compensating my dick for depriving it of a willing pussy."

"PLEASE, POTTER! I'LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING YOU WANT!"

Harry paused and looked at her face, which was twisted in order to look up at him with fearful eyes.

"You idiot," he said. "What I want to do is to ravage your fat pussy all night. Probably do something with that ass you like to flaunt so much as well. I'm going to do that with or without your consent."

"It… it doesn't matter!" Pansy yelled frantically. "Please, fuck my pussy! Ravage my ass! Just let me live!"

"Shut up already, you cow!" Daphne yelled and brought her whip down. However, Harry cast a shield in the last moment and stopped the whip in the air.

"No, Daphne, wait. This might be interesting."

Somehow hearing Pansy Parkinson begging for him to bang her felt even better than hearing her pained shrieks. It filled him with warm satisfaction.

"Beg for it," he said.

"Beg for…?" Pansy replied, wide-eyed.

"Beg me, half-blood Gryffindor golden boy Saint Potter to fuck your mouth."

Pansy sputtered, unable to find her words.

"Well, Daph, it seems I was wrong. She's just as useless as I thought—"

"NO!" Pansy yelled, breathing quickly. "Please… fuck my face! Destroy my pussy! B-Blast my asshole with cum!"

Harry's manhood swelled from her dirty talk. He quirked an eyebrow and took a look at Daphne, who seemed just as surprised by Pansy's willingness to be used as a cum dumpster.

"Saint Potter," he said.

"W-What?"

"Saint Potter. Say 'claim my rabid mouth with your dirty half-blood cock, Saint Potter'" he said, fixing Pansy with a penetrating glare.

The pug-faced girl caught her breath for a second before she gave him a pleading look and said, in an out-of-breath voice, "Please, claim my rabid mouth with your dirty half-blood cock, S-Saint Potter."

"Don't mind if I do," Harry smirked, and left the bed to assume a standing position in front of her face. "Open your mouth wide now. Say 'ahhhhh.'"

"AhhhhhhUUUURGHHHHH," Pansy said, suddenly spasming as he slammed his erect dick into her mouth. He felt her throat closing in on him, a feeling he had grown to appreciate ever since he began facefucking Bellatrix, and then her gag reflex kicking in with her mouth convulsing uncontrollably. He counted to ten and pulled out.

Pansy was huffing and puffing as if she ran a marathon, and there was a look of utter shock in her brown eyes.

"Ready for another round?"

"NO—" Pansy began saying, but he shut her up by once again shoving his dick inside her maw, this time also grabbing her hair on both sides to pull her towards him. He pushed even deeper down her warm throat and wondered what part exactly his dick was touching. It was an odd, surreal moment that made him almost burst in laughter before pulling out again.

"What do you mean 'no', Pansy?" he asked. "Didn't you just ask – beg me – to fuck your mouth?"

"No – I mean – yes – but—"

"Shut up and take it, then," he said, pushing his cock through her lips for the third time. This time, however, he didn't keep it inside, but pushed in and out, again and again, while holding her head with both his hands.

This approach seemed much more agreeable to the resident cocksucker of Slytherin, and she actually leaned into it, enveloping his dick with her soft lips and slurping on it while making the odd sucking noises.

"Good, good! You're making amends already!" Harry said, pumping in and out, rubbing her puffy cheek with his thumb. Being inside Pansy and using her like that felt godly. All his anger and worries faded away, leaving place for only pure ecstasy.

His pace grew faster and harder until he eventually hit her throat so hard that she let out a muted cry. He pulled out and stroke her hair while giving her a short reprieve to get some air. He didn't want her to pass out and ruin his fun.

"It's not fair," Daphne said, pouting, her whip hanging behind her back. "You said I could torture her too."

"Of course you can," he said. "Just let go of that whip for now, I want to keep this toy in mint condition. I have a feeling me and her are going to have a lot of fun. Don't we, Pansy?"

"Uhhh-hmmm…" Pansy said, still catching her breath.

"Get on your back," Harry said. He pulled her wand out of her anus and threw it away, not paying any mind to her gasp of pain.

Pansy rolled over. Her chest was heaving and she was staring upwards at Harry with bulging eyes.

"What would you like me to do now?" he asked.

A dull "Huh?" was her only response.

Harry scoffed. "Earlier you begged me to fuck your mouth. What shall I do for you now?"

Pansy gulped. Her eyes wandered to the sides. Eventually she stammered "F-Fuck my pussy."

"Sorry?" Harry said with a frown. "I didn't quite catch that."

The girl inhaled deeply and sighed before saying "Please, oh Chosen One, demolish my poor little pussy with your beautiful half-blood cock!"

"That was better," Harry smiled. "Keep this up and I might keep you alive."

Pansy nodded enthusiastically. "T-Thanks."

"Don't thank me, thank Daphne," Harry said. "Though, I noticed you haven't begged her yet."

Pansy's eyes darted aside to stare at Daphne in fear. The blonde stood with her head high, staring down imperiously, the whip still in her hand. "W-What should I beg her for?"

Harry frowned. "You're asking me what you want her to do to you?" he asked. "You ought to know yourself. This is your party, after all."

It took another few tense moments for Pansy to figure that one out, her eyes darting between Harry and Daphne. Clearing her throat, she said "Please, Daphne, Queen of Everfrost, allow me to lick your delightful pussy."

Harry watched Daphne in amusement. She was still frowning, but didn't seem averse to the idea. Eventually, she dropped her whip. "I will grant you this one favor."

With a spell, Daphne banished her clothes away, exposing her flawless body, only keeping a garter belt and stockings on. Harry couldn't suppress his smile at the sight. Sometimes, if you were really bad, life could be good.

The blonde climbed on the bed, wrapped her thighs around Pansy's head, and unceremoniously sat on her face.

This time, Pansy made no lewd sounds, and Harry could see her tongue flitting around, licking Daphne's pussy frantically. He couldn't blame her – Daphne truly had a delicious pussy that he could spend the entire night sampling with his mouth without ever getting tired of it. Still, Pansy's cooperation, the lust potion he fed her, and her slutty reputation, led him to wonder whether she was actually enjoying this.

His victim didn't even react when he tore her shirt open to expose her humble chest with its small, erect, red nipples. He rubbed them repeatedly and she arched her back in response.

He used both his hands to push Pansy's chest down and fix her to the bed, before guiding his dick towards her pussy and parting her lower lips with it. They were nice and wet. Her pussy was much wider than Daphne's tight, narrow slit, and her hole opened to him easily, wrapping around his member.

"Wow, Pansy, you're so wet, it feels damn good…" he said, slowly quickening his pace as he pumped into her. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, you little slut?"

A muffled, ambivalent hum came out of her mouth in response, due to her tongue being busy licking Daphne's pert anus. Harry increased the strength of his thrusts, her blunted moans like music to his ears. He felt her pussy reacting to him, growing more supple and soft, releasing juices that coated his dick and let him go in and out in smooth movements. It reminded him of the time Bella came on his wolf cock. The lust potion was a great idea.

"Ohhhh…" she moaned as he thrust especially hard, increasing his pace. Wet slapping noises came out of her pussy every time his dick smacked her cervix, which he made sure to do repeatedly. He inhaled and closed his eyes in pleasure. In truth, sex had never felt so great. Lovemaking was soft and polite, but this was so much more, it was a battle for domination and pleasure, and he was winning.

The noises popped louder as she got wetter, echoing lewdly in her inner tunnel.

Daphne was letting out soft gasps and shutting her eyes, which he knew was a sign that she was getting off. Harry watched her flushed face, her cute lips slightly open. He began rubbing her perky round tits in circles to draw her attention.

"Having fun?" he asked.

Daphne moaned. "You were right, Harry. It does feel good being in my rightful place, being serviced on top of this dirty whore."

Her hands grabbed the sides of his face and she leaned forward to kiss him. He met her hot mouth and felt bliss coursing through him as they embraced for a long minute. He continued playing with her pale pink nipples all the while. When she started letting out little moans one after the other, he knew she was cumming. Nothing felt better than having Daphne Greengrass cum with his tongue in her sweet mouth and his dick inside Pansy's broiling pussy.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, OH YEAH!" Daphne mumbled, and suddenly disengaged from his mouth. She arched her back and lifted her head up high, her narrow and graceful nose pointing upwards, and began rubbing her chest with her hands in wild movements. It was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen. He once again regretted not having a camera to capture the sight, but living in the moment was good enough.

Then another thing happened that made him regret not bringing a camera. As Daphne came down from her orgasm, her body shaking softly, she spread her legs wider, put her hands down on the bed, and pushed against Pansy's face… only to let out a stream of transparent, pale-yellow liquid.

"Ahhhhhhblublub!" Pansy called, making Harry erupt in laughter.

"Shut up, harlot, or the next thing I'll drop on your face won't be liquid."

Daphne lifted her groin from the girl's face, letting Harry behold how wet it was not just from Daphne's pussy juices, but also from a fresh spray of piss. Daphne was smiling with an expression of pure victory and elation while Pansy began spitting out her urine.

Harry slapped her and shut her lips together with his fingers. "No spitting, slut. Take it. Drink it all. This is your punishment, and it's not nearly as bad as you deserve."

A panicked "Mmmhmmm!" was all Pansy could let out, but Harry kept pressing his hand over her mouth until her eyes closed in pain, her cheeks deflated, and her throat visibly gulped the piss. Only then he raised his hand, letting Pansy go into a fit of coughing.

Daphne got up and stretched her graceful form, before curling on a nearby couch like a cat. Pansy, on the other hand, looked like a wreck, leaning with her elbows on the bed. her dank hair covering her downcast face while taking deep breaths.

"Mmmm. Was it too much for your little pansy? Need some time off?" Harry asked lazily.

"Yes, yes, please!" Pansy groaned.

Harry shrugged. "Enjoy your reprieve, then, because I'm not done with you yet. We could use this time to take care of your boyfriend."

"What? No!" Draco, who had until now remained silent, shouted. "Pansy, continue holding him off!"

"Shut up, Drecko," Harry spat, getting off the bed. "It's time you stop letting others do the dirty work for you. This is all your fault in the first place."

"You're not gonna get away with it, Potter! You can't do this!"

"That's what I thought about your father using a little girl to open the Chamber of Secrets, and yet he slipped away, just as he got away with serving Voldemort for so many years," Harry said. "I've noticed something, Draco. Bad guys often get away with shit in this country, while those who play by the rules get oppressed by them. It really pays off to be the big bad wolf, doesn't it? Look at how you got away with your vile subhuman behaviour in this school for so long." Harry paused to let his words sink in and took note of Draco's expression of dismay. "You've been a pain in my ass for the last five years. You're too self-centered and dumb to even begin to understand just how fucking annoying you are, so I'll let you experience a similar level of pain in the ass yourself."

"W-What do you mean?" Draco asked.

In response, Harry flicked his wand, and the blond boy fell to the floor with a little squeal. Before he could get up, Harry fixed his wand at him and intoned, with a slight French accent, "Dollifier."

"I don't get why you don't just use the Imperius," Daphne said in a bored voice. "It gives you much better control."

"It's simple, dear Daphne. The Imperius induces a feeling of euphoria in its victim. I want Draco to feel pain. Every last bit of it. The Marionette curse lets him keep his mind, so he could reflect on every bad decision that had led him to this moment, before his untimely death."

"N-No! Wait—" Draco said, before Harry forced him to shut his mouth and kneel down before him.

"Your lungs will stop functioning at midnight," Harry said, taking a look at the grandfather clock on the wall. It was almost 11:30. "Speaking of midnight… remember how you tried to set me up with that midnight duel, in our first year, sending Filch after me? Well, you're about to meet him again, and I might have slipped him some lust potion."

Harry pointed at one of the doors and it creaked open, revealing a damp and dark broom cupboard.

"Go on, little ferret, your destiny awaits," Harry smiled spitefully. "Bye-bye, and I hope we never meet again."

The young Death Eater was fighting the curse with every fiber of his being, but wasn't even close to breaking it. Unlike the Imperius, it did not work on the mind, but on the body itself, so no amount of Occlumency or mental strength could help against it. Slowly, with tearful eyes, he crawled on his knees into the cupboard, and the door slammed shut behind him. Soon enough, they began hearing the muffled screams as the squib janitor pounced on Draco's virgin boypussy.

"This must be the best night of my life," Daphne giggled.

"And it's not even over yet!" Harry said, turning to Pansy, who lay on the bed with an expression of total shock. "See, Pansy? You got off easily. Your punishment could have been so much worse."

"W-What are you going to do with me?" she asked, trembling.

"If you'll be a good little obedient slut, I'll allow you to sign a magical contract to obey me and Daphne completely," Harry said. "Otherwise, we'll just kill you."

"No, please… I don't want to die…" she said weakly.

"Well then, you better show me you're worth it. If things go that way, I will Obliviate you of any knowledge that Draco was here tonight, just in case someone decides to look into it. Then you'll be free to live out your miserable existence while serving as my house-elf."

Despite the harshness of his words, Pansy actually had a hopeful look in her eyes.

"I-I'll be your good little servant, I promise!" she blurted.

"Good," Harry nodded. "Because there's still one hole in your body that I've yet to claim… after all, you should feel solidarity with your boyfriend while he's still alive, shouldn't you?"

Pansy responded by nodding furiously and repeatedly.

"Well then, Pans, what do you crave now?"

She took a long breath. "Please, Lord Potter… my asshole is yours… take it, do with it as you please…" her voice whimpered.

"If you insist…" Harry smiled, before flipping his wand and throwing her down on her stomach.

"Just use lu—"

Pansy's request was cut off as Harry pushed her face down into the mattress. Only a dull gasp was heard when he stuck his wand in Pansy's anus and cast a cleaning charm.

"Your own sex juices will serve me as lube," Harry said, using his wand to funnel the sticky sludge coating her pussy into her asshole. Then he pushed his entire body down on her, letting his dick penetrate as deeply as possible and ignoring her squeals.

It felt amazing. The girl had a wide, loose pussy, but her ass was tight as a rope, and her tunnel fit his dick like a glove. He moved his hands to the middle of her back and pushed it down while he kept digging deeper into her ass.

Pansy's legs stretched to the sides, and he diversified his thrusts with some slaps across her fat ass cheeks. Draco's screams were beginning to fade in volume as the blond lost all hope, and Harry fixated only on the feeling of using Pansy's back hole in a way the creator never intended. Her gasps and whimpers told him it hurt her, but that only made his dick harder, destroying her digestive tract along with her pride.

Finally he dug so far that he could almost go into her balls deep, and she was slick enough for rapid and smooth movements. He couldn't wait to see her wobbling like a duck into breakfast the next day. His hands moved down from her back and stretched her ass cheeks wide while he set to work her ass even harder, in blissful exhilaration. The pleasure coursing from his phallus to his mind allowed him to forget everything wrong and just enjoy this little moment of victory. Voldemort was still out there, but at least he conquered his school rivals, and brought an end to the Malfoy line, he thought as he deposited his seed deep into Pansy Parkinson's bowels.