July
"Arescet Velociter."
Harry watched in curiosity as the accelerated aging curse he had seen Voldemort use struck a pigeon. He wasn't sure what to expect, since he couldn't recall ever seeing an old pigeon before. The specimen let out a few hoarse cawks and fell down dead.
Flipping the corpse over with a Levitation charm and examining how the curse affected it, Harry's face was stuck somewhere between a smile and a frown. On the one hand, he hated pigeons (the flying rats shat absolutely everywhere around his home in Godric's Hollow, and constantly made the most annoying sounds right outside his window), so he quite enjoyed exterminating them, but on the other hand, his (or rather, his counterpart's) wand was disappointing. It seemed it was less adequate for the darker end of the spectrum, and required Harry to force more emotion and raw power into his curses (the cluster of dead pigeons at his feet were a testament to his extensive testing). Charms and Transfigurations weren't as much of a problem, but it just didn't feel as swift and responsive as his old phoenix feather wand.
He sighed. From the fact that Abigail Vance, the Girl-Who-Lived, had produced the Priori Incantatem effect in her duel with Lady Voldemort, he surmised that his old wand belonged to her, in this mirror world. This meant that he would have to pay a visit to the creepy old wandmaker to get a new wand, and he would undoubtedly be asking a lot of uncomfortable questions.
That was only one of the obstacles he came across in this new world. For one, he had to find a replacement to Bella's knife, which was enchanted to always find its target, and hold poisons. He wasn't in danger as much as he was before, but it was always a good idea to have another weapon in case he got disarmed. The magic suppressing handcuffs would require him to steal from a senior Auror. Then there was the problem of a base. Godric's Hollow was a pleasant location, where the Ministry couldn't track underage magic, but it didn't offer him the level of privacy and security that Grimmauld Place did. With Stella – Sirius' counterpart – being alive, albeit living with them in the cottage, he couldn't risk using the macabre townhouse.
Fortunately, that problem was somewhat remedied already. He had spent a large portion of the first three weeks of the summer vacation scouting locations for a base – abandoned manors, old bunkers, defunct factories – until he recalled the story of a lighthouse on a small, foggy island west of the Hebrides, which the muggles have abandoned due to many of its keepers going insane (they couldn't know, but the waters nearby were teeming with sea-dwelling magical beasts). After a short visit to the location, he decided it was ideal, since no one came anywhere near, and the Trace wasn't extended that far.
The tower had several dully-furnished, damp rooms that he managed to get into living condition quickly enough with the proper application of cleaning charms, and he warded the place using any protective spell he knew. One of the rooms, which he designated as a cell, was marked as a portkey destination, and was fitted with iron bars and steel chains.
It was nice to have a place of his own again. He could only hope that soon, he will also have an avenue for his sexual needs once more.
He thought his extensive outings would attract attention from the dwellers of the Potter Cottage, but with Stella working overtime as an Auror for the Ministry, and his new sister Ella spending most of her time in her room, no one noticed how peculiarly Harry had been acting. He was currently in the backyard, sitting on a rather large swing and taking potshots at the local pigeons as test dummies. By the number of avian corpses at his feet, and his better understanding of the quirks of his counterpart's wand, it was a productive way to spend his morning.
The old ginger house cat that apparently remained with the Potters ever since Harry was a baby came to snoop around, sniffing and pawing at the dead birds. He sent an accusing glare at Harry, as if saying you stole my prey. Harry just smirked in return. Walt liked to amuse himself with the pests, but was too slow and old to catch them. With another sigh, Harry vanished the evidence of his massacre and turned around to head back into the house.
It was definitely strange to live in a place that, for years, he had associated with tragedy and ruin. But, in this world the cottage was whole, and Harry even slept in the same room where, in his world, Voldemort murdered his mother. Not that Harry minded too much; he was definitely past the point of letting those kind of sentiments phase him.
Just as he entered the living room, he saw Ella descending the stairs, wearing a light robe and shoes (she spent most of the summer wearing shorts and tank tops, to Harry's sexual frustration – his sister was definitely an attractive girl), and slinging a bag over her shoulder.
"Going somewhere?" he asked.
Ella raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care?"
Harry shrugged idly. "Since Voldemort returned and Dumbledore was murdered?"
She snorted, pinching a bit of floo powder and heading towards the fireplace. "I doubt Death Eaters would attack Diagon Alley in daylight."
"Wouldn't they? They are growing bolder. The news get worse each day," he said, and, noticing her furrowed brow, hesitated. He didn't want to sound like Molly Weasley. "Be alert."
"Sure thing, Auror Potter," she rolled her eyes, gave him a two-finger salute, and disappeared through the fireplace.
Little ingrate, Harry thought, shaking his head. His counterpart and his sister didn't seem very close, considering what they've gone through and how close they were in age. It was weird. He was sure that, had he had a sister in his original world, he'd cherish her much more; he practically adopted Luna as his little sister, before she was murdered by Rabastan Lestrange. He supposed his counterpart just took things for granted.
Well, no use delaying the inevitable, he thought, looking down on his malfunctioning wand. He could go for a (hopefully) quick visit to Ollivander's, maybe check out some merchandise in Knockturn Alley, and then head for lunch in the Cauldron, just like old times. The fact that Ella was in Diagon and he could keep an eye on things was just an extra incentive. After a quick trip up the stairs and a change into robes, he went to the fireplace and followed to his sister's destination.
Diagon Alley had definitely seen better days. The number of shoppers was maybe a quarter of what it used to be, in the period between the wars, and several shops had closed their doors, putting up vacancy signs instead. Still, it felt nice to walk down the street without being gawked at (or worse, having to evade assassination attempts). The Aurors were either very good at hiding their presence, or it was just minimal, because Harry didn't come across any on his way to Ollivander's. He steeled himself before going into the dark, cluttered wand shop.
"Harry Potter, swamp ash and unicorn hair tail, ten inches and three quarters," the wandmaker said in a hoarse voice that was almost a whisper.
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Good day to you too, Mister Ollivander."
"Good day indeed," Ollivander said, as if there was some hidden meaning to the words (which Harry was pretty much sure was bullshit). "And what can I help Mister Potter with, on this fine day?"
"My wand is, um, acting up," he said, taking it out. "It doesn't feel as… natural anymore, if you know what I'm saying."
"Indeed?" Ollivander gawked at him. "And have you considered the possibility that it is you who does not feel as… natural anymore?"
This is exactly why Harry dreaded coming here. He was formulating a diplomatic answer, when he saw the wandmaker's eyes go wide. He turned around just as the shop's window exploded in a shower of glass.
"Protego!" he called on instinct, letting the shards of glass splatter harmlessly against his shield. Immediately, he saw two flashes of light hit it again, and it broke.
There were three figures at the shop's entrance, wearing Death Eater uniforms. Two had cast Stunners, and another one behind them appeared to be casting wards. Without much time to conjure another shield, Harry was forced to dodge out of the way of a Flame Whip, and saw Ollivander running towards the back door. Unfortuantely, one of the Death Eaters shot a Locking charm and the door shut before he could make it.
"We are here by the will of the Dark Lady!" shouted one of the figures, her high, feminine voice powerful and ringing. "Put down your wands and hold your hands where we can see them!"
Harry renewed the shield around himself, but no more curses followed.
"Ravenna Lestrange," Ollivander turned and whispered. "Spruce and dragon heartstring, nine—"
The leading Death Eater sent a Bone-Breaker towards the wandmaker, who ducked with surprising agility for one so old, and the curse hit the shelf behind him, exploding with a hail of splinters. "I don't need you to tell me about my wand, old fool!" she said and headed towards him. "Now put down your—"
"Watch out, Ravenna!" another female Death Eater shouted.
The leader swung aside and flicked her wand just in time to deflect Harry's Concussion curse at the last moment – something that wouldn't have occurred if he used his old wand. The sharp motion caused her mask to fall, revealing an angular, slightly lined face, twisted with anger and haloed by wavy dark hair underneath her hood.
"Well, well, what do we have here, Agatha?" she asked, leveling her wand at Harry with a glint in her eye.
"He looks like Potter," the Death Eater that warned Ravenna said, her tone amused.
"He does!" Ravenna said, laughing. "Are you Potter's whelp, boy?"
Harry sneered at them, holding his wand firmly in front of him. "What's so funny about it?"
The two Death Eaters just responded with more laughter. "Let's just say that I've had the pleasure of running into your father two years ago, boy," Ravenna said with a twisted smile. "Today, I can end what I started and finally cut down your blood-betraying line for good!"
Harry bit his lip. He wasn't truly angered by her admission of killing his counterpart's father, but her smugness was just begging for a curse to the face. "I assure you, Dick Eater, between the two of us, the pleasure today will be all mine."
His wand shot out a stream of purple flamejust as the words left his mouth. She managed to conjure a shield and block his curse, but stumbled back a bit. The Death Eater at her back, Agatha, cast a Blood-Boiling curse at him in response, which Harry managed to deflect. He cursed having to use a foreign wand, and especially one with a unicorn hair core – the really destructive magic just didn't flow as well, and it slowed him down significantly.
"Ooh, this one has teeth!" Ravenna called. "At least they learn something! Your father died pitifully, trying to stun—"
The Death Eater was once again forced to shut up and go on the defensive when Harry sent a white lightning bolt towards her. Ollivander joined in with a Stunner aimed at Agatha, and Harry took advantage of the distraction to aim a Sectumsempra at Ravenna. Fortunately for her, she ducked out of the way just in time. Unfortunately for Agatha, she stumbled right into the path of his Slashing curse, which hit her straight in the chest, sending her crumbling down to the carpet, bleeding all over.
Ravenna's nose scrunched in rage. "You've got some nerve, boy. Crucio!"
Harry sprang aside and levitated a wooden chair to shield him from the Unforgivable, immediately going on the offensive again.
"Don't bother to hide, Potter," Ravenna spat, deflecting a curse he sent at her in return. "The problem with your family is that you just don't know when to stay out of business that isn't yours. Sooner or later, you will die just like your parents!"
Another curse came from the Death Eater and cut the chair Harry was levitating into two pieces, which he banished towards Ravenna. He used the split second available to cast an Animation charm on the carpet beneath her.
Taking a glance at Ollivander and the third Death Eater, who were duelling fiercely, Harry returned his gaze to his enemy, who began flinging curses like mad.
"You know what the problem with your family is, Lestrange?" Harry asked, casting a Shield charm and taking cover behind a cabinet just in case. "You always get so worked up, and forget to notice your surroundings."
Just then, the carpet sprang to life under Ravenna's feet, and she yelped as she tripped down. Her wand flew out of her hand, and Harry hit her with a Stunner and a Concussion curse, before making the carpet roll around and wrap her body tightly.
He looked to the other side of the shop just in time to see the third Death Eater grab hold of a wounded Ollivander and disapparate, leaving behind Ravenna and the bloodied, dead body of Agatha.
As the pair vanished, the temporary wards around the shop fell, and Harry knew that he only had seconds until the Aurors arrived. He had no intention of letting them put Ravenna in Azkaban only for Voldemort to break her out again. He summoned the two fallen wands to him, turned the carpet into a portkey, and vanished along with his father's killer.
When Ravenna woke up, her first thought was that she was back in Azkaban.
The bare stone cell, with its iron bars, and small window looking over a raging, foggy sea, were all too familiar.
But no, she squashed that thought after a second. It wasn't so bone-chillingly cold in here, and she was naked down to her underwear, rather than wearing the atrocious Azkaban prisoner gown.
She stretched her hands, and a sudden pain in her right arm made her freeze. A quick inspection revealed a bandage right where her Dark Mark was. Surely not…? She peeled the bandage off unceremoniously, cringing at the biting pain, and gasped at the sight of her gouged arm. There was no Dark Mark, just a shiny patch of pink meat.
Wherever she was, the Dark Lady could not locate her.
"All my friends are dead," a boyish, singing voice echoed outside her cell, and Ravenna turned to look beyond the floor-to-ceiling iron bars. There was little floor space, the only notable feature being the spiral stone staircase at the corner.
"All my friends are de-ead," the voice continued, and heavy footsteps echoed in its wake, getting louder each second. "They got smacked in the head…"
A body appeared around the bend of the stairs. It was him, the Potter boy. The one who got her with that stupid carpet trick. She underestimated the bastard, even after he broke out the dark curses. And why exactly did a teenage boy have a holding cell in some tower over the sea? That wasn't how the Order of the Phoenix operated.
He stepped towards the bars and passed through them as if they were nothing but smoke. "All my friends are dead." he finished singing with an ironic smile. "Enjoying my hospitality, Ravenna?"
"Potter," she spat. "What do you want?"
He broke in laughter, standing above her. She wanted to rise, but her body felt too weak and disorientated to stand, so she just scampered back.
"What do I want?" he asked, cupping his chin with his fingers. "Hmmm… I want… a girl with the face and hair of Daphne Greengrass, the ass of Pansy Parkinson, the boobs of Millicent Bulstrode, and the legs of Bellatrix Lestrange."
Huh? There was no girl called Bellatrix in Ravenna's family. She thought there might be some boy called Percy Parkinson, but Potter didn't seem to have interest in boys. "What the hell are you talking about?" she sneered at him, which didn't have a very menacing effect due to her overall confusion.
Potter sighed, and his eyes swept over her body, which was naked except for a set of black underwear. "You're ugly," he said.
"I'm not!" she replied immediately. How dare he?! Boys would line up to ask her out to Hogsmeade!
"Whatever vestige of good looks you might have once had is long gone. It's the Azkaban effect," Potter said apathetically, his eyes once again examining her body, and Ravenna couldn't help but feel hurt deep inside. She knew he was telling the truth. "Your skin is loose and frail, your body is shapeless and bony, your face is wrinkled, and your hair is lifeless. Those bra and panties are nice, but even they can't make up for your saggy little tits and flat ass. You're completely useless to me."
Why did it hurt so much? Why did it make her so angry? "I'm not… for you to use!" she called indignantly.
"That remains to be seen," he said, shrugging. "I had hoped to make you into my new fucktoy, but after seeing what you have to offer, I don't think you're worth it. Your body is pathetic. I should probably kill you, or use you as a practice dummy, but I suppose I can claim you once, just to teach you your rightful place, before you die."
"Y-You won't!" she said, scampering back again, with her hands holding the floor. "I'll kill you if you try!"
Potter cracked a mocking grin. "You couldn't even hit me when armed, never mind when you're wandless and weak. You're in no position to make threats."
"Don't try m—" Ravenna began to yell, but suddenly Potter flicked his wand – no, not his wand, her wand! - and she felt as if her body was clenched by a foreign force. She tried to fight it, but it wasn't the Imperius, which her Mistress had trained her to resist. Instead, her body involuntarily turned around, knelt on all fours, and stuck her ass up in the boy's direction.
"That's better," Potter said. She heard him stepping behind her when suddenly a hand impacted her bum with force, and she let out a squeal. She tried to get out of the way, but couldn't. Her body was under his command. "I must thank you for your wand, Ravenna. This is much easier to do than with my own wand, and avoids any incriminating evidence."
She felt him slipping her panties down, and revulsion filled her as the boy trailed a finger over her pussy lips, which tingled traitorously. He made her hands stretch behind her back and unclasp her bra, which he threw aside, then grabbed her waist and turned her around on her back with no shred of gentleness. He was standing above her with an expression full of scorn and delight, an expression of utmost power. Ravenna didn't feel so afraid ever since the last time she had disappointed her Mistress, after the Department of Mysteries fiasco. Something told her this wasn't the first time that the boy was in such a position.
"Not much to work with," he mumbled as he knelt down and trailed a finger over her breasts. "Hmm… but I suppose you can serve as a Polyjuice canvas just as well as anyone."
A Polyjuice canvas? "What in Morgana's name are you talking about, you sick bastard?" she blurted out.
Potter sprang a twisted smile. "I can just take material from much better looking women, and turn your body into them," he rubbed his chin with his fingers in contemplation. "Then again, I want to see that look of utter hopelessness and defeat in your eyes. It makes everything so much more fun."
Suddenly, he reached a hand towards her pussy. Ravenna tried to close her legs, but her body still didn't listen to her. Potter's middle finger entered her lips forcefully and pushed, causing Ravenna to twitch and flail. She heard him chuckle and her mind filled with rage. Sadly, it proved not enough to break his hold.
With a flick of his wand, the boy's clothes flew away from him, and he was left naked, showing a pale, tall, youthful body. He threw the wand down into the pile of clothes, knelt on top of her, and grabbed her shoulders.
"So tell me again, Ravenna, how you killed my father."
Ravenna was left speechless, with no idea what to do, when she felt him push her down harder, and thrust his hard cock into her. She closed her eyes in agony and pulled her head back, stifling a cry, as he began pounding her pussy.
She couldn't believe this was happening. The Dark Lady promised her power beyond her dreams, to rule as a queen and do whatever she wished, if she only served her, but not even in Azkaban had she felt so powerless and insignificant than now, when the Potter boy was claiming her body as his instrument of pleasure. It was the worst thing she had ever felt, and yet her body derived some sick pleasure from what Potter was doing to her, which just made her all the more upset. She couldn't help herself but gasp and moan as his organ entered her and massaged her insides repeatedly. She never felt so sensitive, so frail and yet fulfilled before. It was maddening!
"Oh yeah, oh yeah…" Potter mumbled as he hammered into her. "A pussy's a pussy, as Seamus likes to say, even if it's as ugly as yours…" suddenly he stopped moving, but kept his cock inside of her. "I wonder… it's going to take me a while to brew Polyjuice, unfortunately… maybe I should upgrade you with some transfiguration instead…" he grabbed her throat, making her recoil. "Would you like that, whore?"
Ravenna seethed. She wanted nothing more than to choke the life out of this devious boy, but her body wasn't responding to her mind. "I don't need any upgrades!" she hissed.
"Sure you don't," Potter laughed joyfully. "Keep telling yourself that, ignore what the mirror says."
"I'm not the one with the problems, you sick cunt!" she bit out.
"You're right, I do have a problem," Potter said, his hand on her throat forcing her head up to glare at his mirthful face. "My problem is that I'm a horny bastard. I constantly have this pressing urge in my groin to stick my dick inside some girl. I see a slightly attractive woman on the street, and I imagine what it's like to have sex with her. The thought that I'm never going to be with all those tasty women saddens me greatly. But now…" the boy plucked a strand of hair from her head, and she cringed from the sharp pain. "Now I have a chance to make my dreams come true. All I need to do is brew Polyjuice, locate an attractive woman, say 'accio hair', and throw it inside the potion."
Ravenna sneered. "So you use me because you're too pathetic to worm your way into a woman's skirt? I suppose there really isn't much hope for a boy like you…"
Potter tutted. "I wouldn't say that. But it is simpler that way. Quicker, too. And there are so many attractive women out there. Ever been in Soho? Gorgeous girls all around you. I think I'll go for a visit and summon a hair from whoever catches my fancy. Would you like to feel what it's like to be in the body of a muggle, Ravenna?"
"No!"
The boy laughed that gleeful little laugh again, and with a lurch in her stomach, Ravenna realized who it reminded her of. The Dark Lady had the exact same laugh. "Well then, I suppose it's time to experiment with some transfiguration. See if I really learned anything from Professor McGonagall. Ever tried to enlarge your chest, Ravenna?"
"Of course not," she scrunched her nose. "No self-respecting witch will be caught altering herself just to attract some moron's attention. Besides, human transfiguration never lasts long."
"Hmmm," Potter said. "That's true. I suppose we'll just have to… how did Tom put it? 'Push the boundaries of magic'?"
"It will never work," Ravenna said sternly, trying to hide her dismay.
"We'll see," he shrugged. "After all, my family has a gift for the subject. I am a Potter, and you are my clay."
With that, he touched his wand to her chest, and Ravenna felt a strange sensation like her chest constricting. Except that, instead, it rose and puffed up, stretching her skin painfully to accommodate the unnatural hilly shapes growing on top of it. Ravenna held her breath and looked down in fascination and dread.
Potter's hand moved from her throat and grabbed her newly grown left tit, rubbing it forcefully, going as far as testing the nipples by stretching and pinching them, which made Ravenna hiss in pain. His touch was stout and careless. "Much better already," he said, and she turned her head to see him smiling.
"You men are pathetic," she spat. "Lusting after lumps of fat and flesh. Going mad over them like the wild beasts you are."
His smile turned crooked. "I'm sure that's what flatties everywhere tell themselves to cope with their inadequacy."
"I'm not inadequate!"
"Then why do I have to alter your body like this?" Potter raised an eyebrow. "But let's get back to exploring the limits, shall we?"
He tapped his wand over his chest again and it started swelling. Ravenna closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as the stretching of her skin was giving her a burning sensation. "Stop!" she cried out.
"No," he said simply. "I want to see how far I can go with this."
"Ahh! Please! Please stop, it burns!" Ravenna choked out, feeling like her skin was going to tear itself apart.
"It's nothing that you don't deserve," Potter said apathetically, but waved his wand, and the pain halted.
Her chest still felt sore, but at least the burn was cooling down, and Ravenna blinked back her tears. She looked down at her heaving chest and saw that it grew into unnatural, disproportional shapes, not saggy and round, but rather jutting forward and coming to sharp edges at her protruding nipples. She began trembling, horrified, despite what she knew, that her body might never return to its natural state.
"Hmm. Not quite what I was going for, but still a big improvement. I guess we'll have to experiment some more with the shape—"
"No, please, not again—"
"But a potter needs to work with his hands. Yes…" he sent his arms forward, grubbing her mounds of flesh painfully and squeezing them like dough. Ravenna groaned and shut her eyes tight as he once again started thrusting his cock into her vagina while his strong hands crushed her chest. She couldn't take it anymore and let out a pitiful whimper.
"Oh, stop being such a drama queen," Potter said, his voice mocking and playful. "You ought to thank me. You know muggles pay huge sums to get the same procedure, and it doesn't even look good in the end."
"I don't care what dirty muggles do!" she shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Let me go!"
Potter pushed down harder on her chest and intensified his thrusts. "If you wanted to be free so much, you shouldn't have pledged yourself to an insane dark witch. You shouldn't have killed my father in her name or tried to kidnap a wandmaker. You're only getting what was long overdue."
As he began invading her depths faster and faster, Ravenna just couldn't hold the pain and squealed like a butchered pig. Tears fogged her vision and despair filled her heart.
"Scream all you want, bitch, no one can hear you where we're at," she heard Potter saying, and her face twisted into a mask of torment to deal with the pain coursing through her body. It didn't help. She broke down and hang her head back, sobbing madly.
After he was done filling her with his filthy seed, he barely gave her any time to recuperate before asking her questions about the Dark Lady - her plans, her location, and her habits. Ravenna was feeling like such a wreck that she didn't even bother resisting or lying. She just told him what he wanted to know in a hollow, raspy voice, barely thankful that she wasn't part of the Ministry operation, and therefore didn't have many details to spill about it.
Once silence fell for a while, she cracked open one eye to see Potter writing in a little notebook. Her chest had thankfully returned to its natural shape, feeling strangely numb after the intense, alien pain.
The boy's eyes suddenly caught her stare, and he flourished his wand at her in an intricate pattern. "Rest now, my toy," she heard him saying, as her eyelids shut and she fell into a heavy slumber.