September '97
After saying their goodbyes to Stella at platform 9¾, Harry took Ella aside and gave her a little black rubber band that looked like a simple hair tie.
"I want you to wear this at all times."
Ella raised an eyebrow. "I don't really like my hair in a ponytail."
"It's not for your hair, just put it on your wrist," Harry bit his lip. He didn't want to sound too overbearing, but he couldn't let his beautiful sister come to any harm. "Listen, Hogwarts is going to be dangerous this year. There are about to be a bunch of Death Eaters around at all times, in authority. If you feel threatened or need my help, just tug on the band. It will let me know where you are, and I'll come check on you."
"Why, brother, I didn't know you cared," Ella smiled ironically, examining the band, before she slipped it on. What he didn't tell her was that it would let him know her location at all times, and alert him if she was in danger even without even tugging it – a variation on the Weasley family clock that Harry gave his partners in the past, though that proved not enough at times.
"Mum would give me an earful if I didn't at least try, you know that," Harry said, not completely convicted of the truth in his words.
"Suuuuure. It's not like you're afraid to look like a big softie by showing you care about your ickle sister."
The grin she sent him was too cute, and as if to prove her wrong, he leaned down to plant a kiss on her cheek.
"What was that for?" she asked, visibly confused, when he pulled back.
"For being the most annoyingly adorable little sister in the world," Harry smiled. "Do me a favor and keep your head down."
She looked at him with dazed eyes for a few seconds before rolling them. "Whatever, I need to find my friends before all the compartments fill up. See ya soon, big baboon," she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove, and left.
They had arrived to the station quite late, since Stella wished to spend as little time as possible out in the open, where the new regime might be looking for her. Harry took another look around the platform with its chilling ambience of concealed fear, and headed for the train. It was indeed quite packed already, and he had to go quite a while before finding a suitable compartment. On the way there, he came across a group of Slytherins, and in their center saw a figure that he recognized from Ravenna's memories – Danica Malfoy.
Much like her counterpart, she was extremely pale, slim, pointy-faced, and holding a permanent snooty expression. She had the same straight, platinum blonde hair, but longer, ending sharply above her shoulders. Her eyebrows were nothing but translucent wisps of hair above her little eyes. Even through her robes it was quite clear that the petite witch didn't have much in the way of tits or curves, and her figure was completely boyish, which slightly disappointed him, as he had already made some abstract plans for her. She caused his counterpart to get his soul sucked, after all, and that couldn't go unpunished.
A large, silvery H badge was fixed to her robe, and she seemed to be already abusing her new position, as she was giving orders to a boy and a girl with P badges, smirking smugly. "…Tell all mudbloods to sit at the back…"
While he passed her, a dark-haired girl he didn't recognize leaned and whispered something in her ear. It wasn't the burly Goyle, who stood on her other side (having been released in exchange for Arthur Weasley) but apparently a replacement for Crabbe. Danica sent a scathing sneer towards Harry.
"Where's your Weasley girlfriend, Potter?" she asked.
Harry gave her a smile without slowing his stride. "Where's your Crabby bodyguard, Malfoy?" he shot back, before going past the group and finding a compartment that held just one little boy, with long pale hair and dreamy eyes. The magazine he held, and the fact that he was also present at the Weasley wedding, clued Harry to his identity.
"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" Harry asked, quite rhetorically, closing the door behind him and taking a seat, but keeping his distance.
"Oh no, unless you want to be a bother like that ferret girl outside," the boy said in a serene voice that sounded slightly wrong with his deeper register.
"I don't think that'd be a problem," Harry said, taking out of his bag another book that he had taken from the Black library.
However, before he even started reading, he noticed the boy staring at him fixedly.
"Yes?" Harry asked.
"You're Harry Potter," the boy declared.
"I guess I am."
"Is it true that your godmother is Sabrina Boardman?"
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. Better not to argue. "Yes, she is."
The boy smiled. "Louie Lovegood, at your service."
"Purebloods in the front, half-bloods behind them, mudbloods in the back."
One of the new additions to the Hogwarts staff was Professor Sabina Selwyn, a stiff, sharp faced, tall woman with short brown hair that fell down to her eyes, and was supposed to teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry wondered if the curse on the position was still active.
Her statement sent the class into a shock, before they started to scramble awkwardly. Harry sighed as both he and Mark MacDougal stood up, letting the purebloods take their seats. However, it appeared that one figure wasn't willing to comply, still sitting defiantly with hands crossed over her chest at the back of the classroom.
"Longbottom, do you have hearing problems?" Selwyn rose to her full height and went forward to meet the rebellious pureblood.
Nella Longbottom looked surprisingly cute, even if still somewhat soft and plain. "No, professor," she said, her mouth set down in a frown, and Harry caught several of the Slytherins at the front grinning maliciously at the spectacle.
"I said purebloods in the front, girl. That still includes blood traitors," Selwyn raised her voice.
"Forgive Longbottom, professor, she's always been a bit slow in the head," said Danica Malfoy in her high-pitched, grating voice, prompting her group of Slytherins to burst in laughter, and the professor to crack a grin.
"Did you already forget how our last duel went, Malfoy? If I'm slow, what does that make you, a snail?"
Malfoy's grin fell instantly into a livid expression, and it was turn for those in the middle and back to smile instead at Nella's retort.
"Fifteen points from Gryffindor," Professor Selwyn said coldly. "Now come to the front, Longbottom."
"No." Nella looked up at the tall professor defiantly. "Hogwarts is a place of equality. Salazar was kicked out for his stupid blood mania, and so will you."
Despite admiring her defiance, Harry bit his lip in irritation at Nella's display. It wasn't the kind of defiance that would do their side any good.
"Very well," the professor said coolly, walking towards Nella in slow, measured steps. The class was deathly silent, and the clucking of her high-heeled boots on the floor added quite a menacing flair. "I suppose the standards of respectful behaviour have fallen under Dumbledore's watch. We shall just have to rectify that with proper discipline. Miss Longbottom would serve as an example for all of you. Crucio."
As the soft-faced girl burst in screams and fell to the floor, flailing, half the class stood up and began to shout for the professor to stop, their eyes horrified. "Be quiet! Sit down, or suffer the same treatment!" the professor barked at the students.
Harry remained in place, refusing to look at the spectacle. He realized that it was likely the first time any of them had seen an actual human being under the Cruciatus, and the sight was certainly harrowing, but Harry, at least, had enough experience with it not to even flinch. In truth, he felt somewhat angry at Nella. She was essentially asking for it, and should have known better than to just bait a Death Eater from an inferior position.
The curse lasted only about fifteen seconds, but it was apparently enough for the desired effect to sink in. The classroom was left in utter silence, the Gryffindors enraged or horrified, and even the Slytherins seemed slightly shaken. Sheila Finnegan and Dana Thomas leaned down to help Nella.
"No, leave her," the professor commanded, making the two girls freeze. "If she refuses to sit with those of her station, then she should wallow in dirt."
"But, professor," a Hufflepuff girl protested. "Isn't the Cruciatus an Unforgivable, and warrants a life sentence in Azkaban?"
"Such harsh laws have been recently repelled," Selwyn replied with a sharp grin. "You were brainwashed to see it as evil, but in truth, the Cruciatus is merely a tool, one very useful for the discipline of obstinate children. Now that you are all of age, it is time for you to understand the Dark Arts better, and not just learn to defend against them. Indeed, it's only fitting that our first lesson should focus on administering punishment to those who disobey authority. Would anyone like to follow Longbottom's example and become our volounteer for demonstration today?" her gaze swept over the class before landing on Harry. "Potter?"
Harry bit his lip and did his best to keep his voice calm and detached. "No, professor."
The dark-haired girl sitting beside Malfoy sent him a savage, spiteful grin, while the professor merely looked somewhat disappointed that he didn't rise to her bait. "Watch your step carefully, then," she sneered, before waving her wand towards the board, where a list of curses suddenly materialized.
True to her word, the lesson dealt in spells to cause a variety of unpleasant effects without bringing permanent harm to the body. Harry wasn't completely sure if she truly believed this was a legitimate way of disciplining youth (after all, Filch existed), or if it was just her excuse for teaching such dark magic.
Several times during the lecture, Harry had caught the girl on Malfoy's side turning around to send him a pointed glare. She was slightly taller than Malfoy and almost as thin with mousy face, big dark eyes, and dark hair pulled back to a ponytail, that made her seem ever paler than her friend. Apparently, he wasn't the only one to notice her indiscretion.
"Hey, Harry," Mark whispered in his ear. "Why is Thea Nott staring at you like she wants to stab you in the eye with her wand?"
"No idea," Harry said in barely a whisper, raising an eyebrow at the girl, who scoffed and turned around again to face the board. Had he done something to her? His counterpart's diary never mentioned the girl, and her counterpart, Theodore Nott, was one of the few Death Eater descendants that Harry never had a problem with in his home world. Harry knew him to be shy, quiet – often stuttering when asked to speak in class – and reclusive. Theadora seemed to be somewhat different.
While Harry decided to keep a low profile, Nella seemed intent on achieving the same degree of sanity as her parents, inviting daily bouts of the Cruciatus. She asked Professor Travers in Muggle Studies – which was now mandatory for all – whether she knew that the Dark Lady's father was a muggle, and Professor MacNair in Care of Magical Creatures why she couldn't reign in a hippogriff without using dark curses, when even a half-giant could (the professor's approach to getting beasts in line was very much like Professor Selwyn's was when it came to children). Harry himself only managed to stay out of trouble for a week and a half, before the inevitable occurred.
The first time he felt the band on his arm – one mirroring Ella's – warm up, turned out to be her idea of a prank. He was in the library, studying Ekrizdis' notes, and his feet carried him over to a different section only to see her smirking at him.
"You said to call if I needed help," she said, and then changed her expression, making puppy eyes at him. "I'm behind in my Transfiguration essay, and I'll be in real trouble with McGonagall if I turn it in late."
"Did you ever hear the tale about the girl who cried wolf?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Is that how Lupin got turned?" she said, her face a mask of complete innocence.
Harry sighed, but grabbed a chair and sat by her side. She was too adorable to be angry at.
Luckily, her essay turned out to be on a subject he had quite an experience with lately – partial human transfiguration – and they managed to get the work done rather quickly.
As they were finishing, a pale figure limped past them, and they both turned their eyes to see the slightly battered Nella Longbottom slouch into a chair not too far, leaning her elbows on the desk in a visible expression of anger.
"Does it ever bother you that a girl has bigger balls than you, dear brother?" Ella asked.
Harry glared at her. "Is that what you think Longbottom has? Balls?"
"She's the only one around here with the courage to stand up to the Death Eaters," Ella said, and Harry studied her eyes, which gleamed with admiration. "They killed our parents, and now they bully us right in the open, but I don't see you trying to defy them. You didn't even join the new DA."
Was he ever that naïve? Harry clucked his tongue in frustration. "It's called keeping—you know… listen, Ella, what Longbottom has isn't balls, it's mental issues."
"Is that what you tell yourself?" his sister looked at him with some semblance of disdain, and he had to remind himself that her naivety was exactly what he was trying to protect.
"It's what I know. Submitting yourself to the Cruciatus is not bravery, it's stupidity. Her parents were literally tortured into insanity by the curse, and now she lets herself experience the same?" Harry scoffed. "Nella's grandmother raised her with all those tall tales of her brave parents, she even made her use her mother's wand instead of getting one of her own, simply because she wanted her to be like them. The poor girl probably feels that this is the only way she could measure up to their legacy, to live up to expectations. She brags about how her gran is proud of her now – proud of slowly getting tortured into insanity! Isn't that just the saddest thing you've ever heard?"
Ella glared at him, her disdain turning to animosity. "I didn't realize you were – what do the muggles call it – a psychologist now."
"I don't need to be a psychologist to understand it. You know it's true. Admirable as it is, her defiance will get her nowhere good. A bed near her parents, if she's lucky."
"So we're supposed to, what, just lay down and lick their boots to save our own skin?" his sister scoffed.
"That's not what I'm saying," Harry said, trying to keep his voice level and quiet. "Just that we need to be smarter about our defiance. Look, I know your house is all about being brave and standing up for what is right, but this isn't a game anymore, it's not some schoolyard fight – it's a war. I don't want you to follow Nella and go play the hero. Do you understand?"
"What are you, my mother?" Ella bit, a petulant expression on her face.
"See? You're just sounding like a child now."
She grabbed her parchment and quills, shoving them into her bag, before getting up and slinging it over her shoulder, glaring at him with anger. "I thought you changed, but you're just your usual arrogant jerk self," she said, before stomping away.
Harry rubbed his temples in frustration. Sometimes, he really hated being part of the Gryffindor side. He calmed down his anger at his sister, telling himself that it wasn't her fault. She was just naïve, raised up since childhood with the medieval ideals of Gryffindor chivalry drilled into her mind, and unlike him, didn't experience having everyone she ever loved be murdered by Death Eaters. He would just have to watch her closer.
He never imagined that he would understand Molly Weasley so well.
The second time he felt the band alerting him, it was different – instead of a sharp sting of heat, Harry felt just a strong warmth, that indicated she was in danger, but didn't actually tug her band.
It was right after lunch, and Harry left the Great Hall, letting magic guide his footsteps to a corridor in the floor above, where he spied five girls. Facing him were Danica Malfoy, Thea Nott, and Greta Goyle, who were standing menacingly in front of Ella. A fifth girl was on the floor behind his sister, appearing to be the victim of a Full-Body Bind. Something made his blood boil at the thought of Malfoy hurting his sister.
"Is there a problem here?" he asked as he walked calmly towards the group, putting his left hand over his sister's shoulder, and saw Danica and Thea narrow their eyes at him, while Ella just furrowed her brow.
"What gave you that idea, Potter?" Danica spat, the effect somehow lessened by her being a head and a half shorter than him.
Harry raised an eyebrow and sent a pointed look at the bound girl on the floor. "Oh, I was just wondering if there was a reason you were bothering my sister, or whether you're just on your period or something."
Danica scrunched her nose in anger, and a similar expression appeared on Thea's face. "Watch your tongue, Potter," the blonde said.
"Or what? You'll tell your mummy about it?" Harry asked, subconsciously imitating Bellatrix's baby-talk. An interesting fact he had learned from Ravenna was that Danica's parents were actually called Narcissus and Luciana. Apparently, the recent shift towards female superiority in this world had bended culture enough so that wizards could now take their wives' name instead of the opposite, particularly in cases where the wife's family had no male heirs, like the Malfoys.
Danica raised her wand, which she was already clutching tightly when he arrived, and fixed Harry with her nastiest glare. "It's time someone teaches you Potters how to treat your betters," she said.
Harry made a point of looking around. "Really? And where are they? All I see before me are spoiled little girls."
That had done it, and Danica fired off a Blood Boiling curse, which they were taught by Professor Selwyn. Harry, who had plenty of experience dealing with her counterpart, knew what she was about to do before she even moved her wand, and managed to easily bat the curse aside like it was nothing but a pesky mosquito. He took advantage of her momentary surprise to flick his wand again and hit her with a Marionette curse.
"Dark magic in the corridors, Malfoy?" Harry tutted in mock indignation. "Why, I think it's you who should be taught a lesson. In fact, I believe your mistress already did. So why don't you show us the same courtesy?"
To the amazement of all girls present, Danica promptly kneeled on the floor, crawled on her knees to Harry, and kissed his shoes, before doing the same to Ella. Harry watched in amusement as Thea's mouth hung agape. Then, her eyes looked behind him, and she squeaked "Professor!"
"Snitch," Harry hissed before turning halfway around to see Professor Selwyn marching towards them.
"Potter! What are you doing?" she called, taking notice of the kneeling blonde girl.
"Teaching," Harry smiled innocently.
"Potter cursed Danica, professor, made her do things against her will," Nott said, sending a vindictive little grin at Harry.
"Is that so, Potter?" Selwyn furrowed her brow, inspected Malfoy, and then cast a counter-curse at the girl, who stumbled back in shock, sending a flabbergasted look at Harry. "That will be a detention, then. My office, nine o'clock, tonight, and fifty points from Ravenclaw for attacking a fellow student," she said, cracking a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"And what about Malfoy, professor?" Harry asked calmly, looking pointedly at the girl still lying stiffly on the floor. "I don't think this girl hit herself with a Full-Body Bind, did she?"
The brunette professor sniffed, and cast a counter-curse on her as well. "I'm sure the Head Girl had a good reason to subdue her. Now go to your class, and do not be late tonight."
Harry grabbed his sister's arm and strode forward, pushing Goyle aside with his shoulder when she stood in his way. Ella's friend was following them rapidly, her eyes cast down to the floor.
"What was that?!" Ella bit once they got far enough, and he released her arm.
"What was what?" Harry asked apathetically.
"This… whole… thing!" she motioned wildly at his wand and towards the corridor they just left.
Harry kept a straight face. "In technical terms, it's called asserting dominance, but you can just call it 'standing up for my sister.'"
"Well, you shouldn't have!" Ella snarled. "You know what Selwyn is going to do to you?! Weren't you the one telling me not to play the hero?"
"I'm touched, little sister, but I can take care of myself. Unlike you."
"I had no problem dealing with them myself!" Ella said, her voice rising and face reddening. "You just wanted an excuse to humiliate her! And play the hero yourself!"
Can't deny the truth. Harry sighed. The same rules did not apply to him. "Why did they bother you, anyway?"
"Because of you!" his sister glared at him with unrestrained anger.
"Me? What do you mean?"
"They said something about punishing me for what my family did, and I don't think mum and dad had any chance to bother them recently," she said, her expression turning to sadness.
"I didn't do anything to them," Harry said, without complete certainty, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Yeah, well, now you definitely did, and Malfoy has a long memory for that kind of thing," Ella said with a sour frown, grabbing her friend and heading away.
But Harry wasn't concerned with Malfoy, or about the detention, for that matter. He wasn't Nella Longbottom. Selwyn had no idea what kind of predator she was dealing with. If she thought he was easy prey, she had another thing coming. And Harry would definitely be coming on top.
Despite the few witnesses, word of what he'd done to Malfoy had somehow got around, and all throughout the day he received shining smiles from several members of the DA, including a few girls. Harry wasn't sure if he liked to have that kind of attention at the moment. He definitely had important matters to occupy the little time he had until the evening – namely, replicating one of Ekrizdis' more fascinating inventions, in preparation for the encounter.
His excitement grew over the rest of the day to the point that when he arrived at Selwyn's office for detention, he felt his blood pumping with vigor and he could barely suppress his swelling chest. Fucking evil witches felt great, but the thrill of the hunt was what truly made those first times the most memorable and pleasing. Selwyn wasn't particularly attractive, yet her haughty attitude would make owning her so much more fun. In preparation, he had foregone his daily visit to his sex puppets down in the Chamber, despite being more horny than usual, preferring to reserve his full libido for the long-legged Death Eater.
However, when he knocked, and the door opened of its own, he entered to see that the professor wasn't alone, but sitting with Danica Malfoy, both holding savage smiles. He did his best to keep his expression unfaltering as the door shut with a bang behind him.
"Good evening, professor," he said calmly.
"Mister Potter, please take a seat."
Harry took a look at the sole available chair. The enchantments on his glasses proved useful once again, when they revealed the chair was cursed, unlike all the other ones. Likely to hold him in place, if he had to guess. He shrugged, and sat down on her desk instead.
Their faces betrayed the agitation of the two women immediately. "In the chair, Mister Potter," Selwyn ground out.
"I rather not," he replied coolly.
"You will do as you are told, impertinent boy," the professor flicked her wand in an attempt to hit him with the same curse he had used on Malfoy earlier, but being far enough, he merely sidestepped it. This seemed to have only spurred her on, as she got up and sent a chain of spells his way, one that was surprisingly fast and difficult to counter.
"Not bad, professor. Definitely an Exceeds Expectations," he said while dodging another volley. "I'd put you somewhere above Umbridge and Lockhart, but—"
"Imperio!" Malfoy shouted, off to his side, and his shield could do nothing but let the curse go through while he was dodging Selwyn's much less pleasant ones.
Still, the effect was laughably weak, like a toddler trying to hold him in place. Harry felt the urge to throw Malfoy against the wall, but decided that it would be more fun to let them believe they won, and see what they intended to do with him. He let his shoulders slack and his eyes go vacant.
"Well done, Danica. This boy proves to be a greater nuisance than I thought, but it appears Jugson wasn't lying about his actions at the wandmaker's shop," Selwyn said, and the blonde girl cracked a smug smirk. "What exactly is it that you'd like to do with him? More Cruciatus practice?"
"Oh, I think we've had enough of that with Longbottom and Bones," Malfoy smiled sweetly. "No, I think I'll just try a few hexes I've read about, show him some discipline."
Selwyn laughed. "Very well then, I'll leave you to it. Have fun, and try not to get blood on the curtains," she cackled.
The professor left, locking the door behind her with a click that sounded quite ominous in the sudden silence, the result of a privacy ward. Harry saw Malfoy's chest starting to heave in excitement as she faced him.
'Take off your clothes, kneel down, and kiss my boots' her voice said in his mind.
Harry let a faint smile show instead, and Danica's smug expression faltered for a second, before she was suddenly blasted against the wall.
"URGH!" she groaned in pain, falling to the floor like a sack of bones. She apparently still had some fight in her, because while Harry reinforced her privacy ward with a few spells of his own, she sent a cutting curse in his general direction. Emphasis on 'general'. Harry let the curse sail past him and hack a velvet drape in two, before he inched closer and hit her with a Disarming charm, catching her wand in his left hand.
"Now, Danica, I believe we two have some unfinished business," he smiled as he stepped towards her, and she looked up at him in dismay. "I mean, what did you even think, coming here after the shit you pulled last year? Do you know I was this close to having my soul sucked by one of those dementors?"
"It wouldn't—wouldn't be much of a loss," she stammered, and Harry laughed, not due to her jab, but due to the overwhelming, intoxicating sensation of control that spread throughout his body at having this stupid, snooty, evil rich girl under his mercy.
"After tonight, Danica, you will wish with every inch of your being that you hadn't failed," he said. A Levicorpus sent her flopping upside-down in the air, eyes at level with his, and a Dazzling hex made them go unfocused.
Legilimens.
The flimsy Occlumency shields she raised stood no chance after his hex hit her, and he didn't bother with being gentle as he rummaged through her mind with all the subtlety of a raging bull, grabbing one memory and taking a look before discarding it like a bubblegum wrapper to watch the next. After interrogating Ravenna and Yaxley, she didn't have much new information to offer him, except the bit concerning her family knowing of his actions at Ollivander's, and believing he killed Ravenna, something he had already inferred from what Selwyn told her. And something else.
He watched her disarm Alba Dumbledore, and while the former headmistress offered her protection, his eyes locked on the familiar wand that lied on the ground. Albus had told him the truth about his wand, the Elder Wand, when they discussed the Deathly Hallows, and that sent the wheels in Harry's mind turning. Could she be considered the master of the Elder Wand, as she disarmed Dumbledore, or was it Snape, who landed the killing blow? And if Danica had indeed mastered the wand, did that mean that it would answer to him, who disarmed her in return? The tale mentioned murder, but there was only one way to know…
"Interesting," Harry mumbled as he let the girl fall to the floor, her fine sateen robes tearing as she tried to dislodge her leg from where it got stuck, and he chortled in amusement. "Don't bother with your robe, Danica, just discard it. Now that we've done with the business, it's time for pleasure."
"No—" she blurted, stumbling back, but it made no difference.
"Yes," Harry cut her off, putting her under the power of the Marionette curse again. "I've already seen what you hide behind your dull eyes, and now I wish to see what you hide behind those robes. Give me a striptease, would you?"
She could do nothing but follow his command, standing up and discarding her robe to the floor, while Harry leaned back in Selwyn's chair. Underneath, she had a buttoned white shirt, and a short, green plaid skirt, while her legs were covered by knee-high white socks. Harry's libido approved of the style, though her body, from what he could see, left a lot to be desired. She was very thin with little to no curves or tits, her limbs nothing more than straight twigs, marred by the Dark Mark. Still, there was something enticing about her tight, slender little body. He could imagine breaking her legs by spreading them wide open, and the thought made his cock swell.
"H-Happy now, asshole?" she spat.
"Not bad, Malfoy, though you seem to be lagging behind your peers when it comes to your development," Harry smiled at her affronted expression.
"I am NOT lagging!" she fumed.
"With shorter hair, Danica, you could pass off as a little boy," Harry grinned cruelly. "Of course, I can help you with that…"
"W-What do you mean?
"Just watch," he fixed his glare on her and flicked his wand. Her eyes panicked before confusion set in, and bumps appeared in her white shirt, pushing the buttons dangerously forward.
"What's going on? What are you doing to me?!" her eyes travelled frantically from his wand to her chest and midsection, which began to simultaneously narrow near her navel, and widen around it in an exaggeration of a classic hourglass figure, something that could be clearly observed through her now tight shirt.
"Helping you, duh," Harry said. "Now you're starting to look like a woman your age should."
"No—I… stop it, stop it!" she yelled in panic as her body kept transforming.
"It will only hurt more if you don't relax," Harry said apathetically, knowing full well that Malfoys were never level-headed in the face of adversity. "Now turn around and we'll work on your trunk."
"No, please, no—" she started, but with his control over her body, had no choice but to comply. Harry smacked her tiny little ass with his wand and it began growing, widening, filling up, raising her skirt and bulging out, as she groaned in misery.
"See, Malfoy, you actually have potential," he slapped her now bubbly ass, making her gasp and shut her eyes in pain. "Who knows, with my help you might even get to page three of Playwizard. Wouldn't you like all that fame and adoration?"
"WHAT? No, no, I don't wanna, stop, STOP! IT, UGH, IT BURNS!"
Her swollen ass cheeks, showing through her raised skirt, were indeed beginning to adopt a red sheen, and Harry gave them a rub, making her hiss in pain. He was slightly disappointed – the shape was right, but they didn't feel nearly as soft as Pansy's bum did.
"Calm down. We're not quite done yet," he said, commanding her body to turn around again. He took her red, flushed face with satisfaction. She seemed to be in great pain. "We still have to fix that ferrety face of yours. It's not very feminine, not at all. Faces are slightly more complicated than asses, even if yours are hard to tell apart, but I'm sure that given enough time—"
"NO, NO, PLEASE NO—"
"—I can make it look more appealing," Harry finished, bringing his wand to her jaw, which tightened of its own accord. Malfoy shut her tearing eyes forcefully and ground her teeth, hissing from pain. Harry slapped her cheek, and she opened her eyes to stare at him with wet eyes.
"I told you it would hurt more if you don't relax your muscles, idiot," he rebuked her. "Just hold still a little more. Your face is hard enough to refine on its own, and twisting it like a mong only makes it more difficult. Breathe in, calm down, and it will all be over in a jiffy."
She finally found enough sense to follow his commands – though it might have been just terror – and stilled as he examined her face, his wand trailing over key points, filling her cheeks and lips, softening her chin, widening the center section, and rounding out her jaw. He could almost hear her jawbone creaking as he did so, and she gazed back at him, trembling, apparently caught between trying to ignore the pain, and wishing to scream at the top of her lungs.
"Almost there," Harry told her with a reassuring smile that he remembered getting from the dentist back when he was ten and had to get a cavity filled. "You finally look like a real girl now, Danica. Just one more little detail…"
He decided to amuse himself while seeing how far he could go with this, and tapped her ears, which stretched upwards and jutted out, assuming a much larger size and a shape reminiscent of cat ears.
This seemed to have been too much for her to bare, and she couldn't hold back any longer.
"AHHH! STOPSTOPSTOP, PLEASE, IT HURTS! IT FEELS LIKE… WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?!"
"Here, see for yourself," Harry smiled and grabbed her shoulders, turning her around to face an oval mirror. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the prettiest girl in Hogwarts?"
"Hmmm… definitely not this one," the mirror replied, making Harry chortle.
Malfoy wasn't laughing, though. Tears streaked down her newly puffed-up cheeks as she stared at her strange new appearance in the mirror, and she began letting out little sobs, slumping down in defeat.
"Well, I guess there's still some work to be done. Can't be perfect on the first try…" Harry said nonchalantly.
"Why… why…" the blonde girl sobbed, alternatingly watching her reflection in bile fascination and turning her head down to avoid it.
Harry's growing smile made his cheeks stretch to the edge. His new method of torture seemed both effective and visually entertaining.
"Because you messed with a Potter, Danica," he said, patting her head. "It's in our nature to shape lesser things to our will."
The dam broke and she burst out crying, holding her transformed face in her hands. Harry wrapped his arms around her in a loose hug, quite enjoying the feeling of her trembling body.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" she sobbed, and he relished her defeat.
"See, Malfoy, even you can be taught to apologize for your wrongdoing," Harry said, rubbing her shoulder. "Now that you've repented, I'll allow you to go back to your usual boyish self."
Flourishing his wand around her body, he cancelled all transfigurations, and she suddenly opened her blank eyes to stare at the mirror again, taking in the changes with visible ease until she regained normal breathing again. Harry wiped her tears with a finger and gave her a gloating smile through the mirror. "There, there, it's okay," he whispered in her little ear intimately. "Just a little lesson, yes?"
He turned her around from the mirror and went back to his chair, watching the girl standing in front of him meekly with gleaming wet eyes.
"Now that we're both on the same page, you may continue with your striptease."
"No… please… I'm sorry…" she muttered down.
"I don't think so, Danica," Harry shook his head. "I don't think my earlier lesson has yet to fully sink in, so I'll just have to teach it again… and again… until it gets through."
By his mental command, the blonde next unbuttoned her shirt in shaky movements, then threw it behind her, and crossed her hands behind her head, just as she was told. Harry leaned forward to study her upper body. Her skin was frail and extremely pale, almost sickly so, with purplish hints of blood vessels showing up in several prominent spots, but otherwise smooth and unblemished. Her tits, bound in a Slytherin-green bra, were just as disappointing as they seemed with her shirt on, but her waist did have a little curve to it. Harry's eyes stalked down her flat stomach to the hint of a V shape that her bony body betrayed, and the sight made him lick his lips.
"Mmmmm. Don't start getting shy now, away with that skirt."
She fumbled with her skirt, smoothing its folds, then stretching the waistband and bending her knees to slip it down her thighs. They were indeed very slim, which Harry wasn't a fan of, but as he tracked them upwards to her crotch, his eyes landed on the generous thigh gap between them, and he visualized spreading them wider, to go all the way into her.
Tears fell down her cheeks once more as she followed Harry's command to lower her matching green panties down to her knees, revealing a smooth, bald, pale pink pussy, little more than a slit, that made Harry's dick rise even higher. He stood up and inched closer, smiling slightly at the fearful look in her eyes, but otherwise fixated on the part between her legs. Slowly, while gauging her reaction, he let his middle finger trail across her lower lips, making her shut her eyes fiercely.
"This…" Harry said, prying the pink folds apart and guiding his finger into her moist hole. "Is the only thing keeping the Malfoy line from going extinct." He rubbed her tight flesh gently, in and out. "Tell me, Danica, who owns it?"
"M-Me," she stuttered, opening her eyes widely. Harry gave her a resounding slap on the cheek, and then pulled on her long blonde hair to bend her head upwards, facing him.
"Wrong answer. Let's try again. Who owns it?"
"I do!"
Harry pushed his middle finger deeply into the blonde's pussy hole, making her squeak and squirm. He didn't stop there, but rubbed it forcefully in quick movements which had her biting her lips.
"You're not as stupid as you look, Danica. I can do this all night, so you better just answer correctly. Who owns your pussy?" Harry asked, his eyes locking intensely into hers, which suddenly closed, and she turned her head down.
"Y-You," she gasped.
Harry freed his finger from the warmth of her wet hole, feeling his dick pulsating in need, and Malfoy's body relaxed a bit.
"That's right. You will do well to remember that," he said solemnly, quiet as a whisper. "Your pussy is mine, and I will use it whenever I please. Now bend down and suck my cock."
There was no trace of defiance left in her as she sat her knees on the cold, stone floor, and shakily unbuttoned his pants. She recoiled in surprise as his dick jumped when she lowered his boxers, but otherwise wasted no time in immediately bringing it into her mouth and closing her lips around it.
Harry sighed and closed his eyes, feeling bliss coursing through him as her warm mouth enveloped his organ inch by inch and bobbed down on it in quick, repetitive, almost mechanical movements. She was obviously not an experienced Dick Eater, but it didn't matter; the feeling of turning this haughty, evil bitch into his puppet was better than any kind of sex.
After a minute she began to huff, and slowly pulled her lips back, but Harry grabbed the back of her head and pulled her towards him, force feeding her his cock, which made her choke and gasp in indignation.
"No whining, Danica. You've cooked up this mess, now eat it."
With his cock blocking her airway, and his hand holding her petite head in place, she had no way to argue, and Harry began fucking her mouth instead, making her shudder in pain. He only stopped once it was clear she was going to suffocate, or vomit. He pulled out and allowed her to breathe heavily while he smeared her own spit across her cheeks with his shiny wet cock.
"That wasn't so bad for a novice, Danica, but you need to work on your endurance. Who knows, if you keep this up, maybe I won't even kill you."
She looked up in surprise at this, her eyes red and unfocused, and Harry laughed. "Yeah, that's right, your fate is not yet sealed. It all depends on your performance next. Now bend over and grab that desk," he grabbed her hair and sent her stumbling towards the professor's desk, her hands clutching it tightly.
"Are you a virgin, Danica?"
"Y-Yes."
"Hmm," Harry leaned to inspect her neat pussy, pulling her legs apart to get a better look. "But no hymen. You've been a naughty girl, playing with yourself, haven't you?"
"I…" she began to stutter, but Harry cut her off.
"Good. It means you won't be squealing. Not too much, anyway."
He couldn't hold back his need a second longer. He grabbed her waist, aligned his cock with her opening, and pushed it forward slowly, feeling her shudder and go still as he entered her. Her tunnel was tight and fit him like a glove, the folds stretching around his dick, hugging it, and he felt himself only growing harder at the wonderful feeling. He let his hands caress the back of her smooth thighs, and he leaned forward to kiss her delicate neck.
"You're like a fine china doll," Harry whispered in her ear, giving it a little bite as he pushed deeper into her. "But a fuckdoll, all the same."
With how tight she was, it was almost hard to go in and out of her, and he started merely pumping her pussy in slow movements, feeling it grow wetter and supple, an exhilarating sensation. He was correct in refraining from having fun with his other fucktoys earlier, as it made the experience feel all the more powerful and fulfilling. His dick needed that action, that warmth, that dark inner quest.
"Fuck yes…" he mumbled, standing back upright and increasing his pace, seeing Malfoy's legs tremble, and hearing her pained groans. "From now on, Danica, you're nothing but my cocksock. This is what you were born to be. I can feel it by how well your pussy fits my cock," he gave a strong push and heard her gasp, throwing her head back. "You better learn to enjoy it."
He knew what she was thinking. That once it was over and she recovered, she'll get back at him tenfold. But she still didn't really know who he was, didn't understand the plans he had made.
To illustrate his power and control, he flipped her around, hit her with a Feather-Light charm, let his muscles go loose, held her tightly, and lifted them both high in the air.
"Ahhh!" she exclaimed in surprise, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to keep from falling, and her legs interlocked behind his back, clinging to him as if for dear life. He smiled triumphantly and began pushing and pulling her on his swollen organ, getting into a mesmerizing trance induced by the complete intoxication in his mind. They were completely detached from anything but each other, defying gravity and the natural order as they fucked in the air like a pair of butterflies. He had never dominated a woman to such an extent before, and it felt beyond incredible.
His cock pulsed so hard that he knew he won't last long. After just a few minutes inside the bitch, he already wanted to paint her womb white, and tried to hold back a bit, to make the unbelievable sensation last longer, but it was pointless. It just felt too good, his body was begging for release, and he decided that he would just have to give her a repeat performance of this wonderful position in the future.
"From now on, the only seed to go into your womb will be Potter seed," he huffed in her ear. "This is your true place," he groaned, sucking on air and pushing harder as she whimpered at the force rocking her little body. "Never forget it."
He pulled her hard on his cock, and emptied his balls into her body in one strong burst of pure bliss. As she held tightly onto him with her head buried in his shoulder, he kept wiggling it in, letting every last drop pump and coat her insides, until he slowly softened, regained his breath, and pulled back.
They slowly floated down. A trail of semen leaked from Malfoy's pussy and into the floor, still connected to her by a thin, sticky cord. The sight was utterly depraved, and Harry hit himself mentally for not bringing a camera. Distributing photos of the naked, cum-soaked Malfoy throughout the school would only make it all even better.
Never mind, there will be other opportunities. They had quite some time to spend together, now that he owned her.
He put down the light-weight girl on Selwyn's desk, chest up, and watched in satisfaction as she lay still, eyes open in complete shock, only her heaving chest indicating that she was still alive. Harry had an instinctual urge to choke the life out of any Malfoy he came across, and Danica certainly deserved it, contributing greatly to Dumbledore's murder and to the near death of several students, but he was willing to grant her some leniency – killing her would mean having to do a lot of damage control, and besides, she seemed likely to provide great entertainment in the future. She was like a Draco that he could actually use for pleasure and dominate instead of just curse into oblivion. He wanted her as his obedient toy, a hunting trophy on his wall. Luckily, Malfoys were born to serve.
No, instead of killing her, he would make her wish she was dead.
"Since you're my property now, Danica, I will have to mark you as such," Harry said, seeing her eyes flinch, though her body remained still. He took a soft, black, elastic band out of his robe and twisted it around his finger. "See this choker? Once you put it on, it will react to any harmful intent you have against me by flooding your little mind with pain. In case you manage to ignore the pain enough to try and hurt me, or try to take it off, it will activate a very powerful Withering curse that will make you look like an Egyptian mummy quicker than you can say 'Avada Kedavra'. You like cursed objects, don't you?"
The petite girl stared at him in horror without response. Details of Ekrizdis' experiments weren't widely known, but legends have sprung around this kind of dark objects, which Harry could now produce. He grabbed her hair and pulled it to bring her head towards him, which made her give a little howl. "Don't you?" he asked once more.
"Y-Yes," Danica sniffed, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Then I will gift it to you, with your understanding that I can activate the curse at any time, by a mere thought." He brought the choker towards her neck, and the part that touched her skin turned into smoke. After pushing it forward a little more, it emerged out of the other side, back to a solid state, wrapped tightly around her neck. "Go on, give it a try, think of ratting me out to Selwyn."
She furrowed her brow for a moment, before suddenly clutching her forehead and letting out a hiss through her teeth.
"Bravo, bravo!" Harry clapped at his success. "Well, Danica, what do you have to say?"
"W-What?"
"I asked, what do you say when you receive a gift that you like? Surely your parents have taught you some manners," Harry gave her a scolding look as she bit her lip.
"T-T-Thank you," she said with a whimper.
Harry smiled. "You're welcome," he said. "Just remember, if you tell anyone the truth about what happened here tonight, or try to hurt me, or anyone close to me, your mummy and daddy will have to have a closed-casket funeral."
She nodded, barely moving her head, and remained on the table, staring at the ceiling. Maybe she was waiting for his command?
"Clean yourself up, make yourself presentable. Put on that smug fucking smirk you love to wear so much for the professor," he said, prompting her to slowly search the floor for her robes and wand, before starting to cast charms on herself. She proved proficient enough with those, and looked more or less like her normal self within a minute. "Now get out of here. If Selwyn asks, tell her everything went well."
He expected the blonde to run off as fast as she could, but she lingered, her face conflicted and cast down.
"What is it?" he looked down on her.
"W-Why… Why don't you just Obliviate me? So I won't tell anyone?" she asked, not looking him in the eyes. He supposed that she wanted to forget all about this traumatic experience, but he wouldn't give her that mercy. He sighed and shook his head at her with a benevolent smile.
"Because, puppet, I want you to never forget your lesson," he said. And also because he wanted her to live with the trauma, being forever fearful of him. "After all, what point would all this have if you didn't learn anything from it? Can you tell me who your betters are, again?"
"T-The Potters," Malfoy looked down in shame as she said it.
"And that's how it's always going to be."
She nodded meekly and headed for the door.
"Chin up, Danica, back straight, smirk on your face. Your mother taught you better than this," Harry said, and watched her straighten up. "Good girl."
He hummed in contentment as he removed any sign of his misdeeds from the office, all the while thinking over an improvised plan. Finally, an ironic smile sprang on his face, one that held just a hint of disgust.
He was going grave robbing tonight.