AN: There is a small smut scene in this one. It is marked so it can be skipped if you'd like.
Harry gleefully paged through the book she had received from Borgin and Burke's the day before she was to board the train, upon which was now sat and had been for nearly an hour, curled into Death's side. The book was called 'Morphology and the Mind' and she hadn't put it down since she'd gotten it.
As the name suggested, it wasn't just about the body, but it also held a number of spells and potions to instill compulsions in the victim. She obviously hadn't practiced actually casting the spells, what with having the trace and living in a muggle neighborhood, but she had practiced the incantations and the wand movements until she was sure she could cast several of the spells found within the pages of what had quickly become her bible where Draco Malfoy was concerned.
Hedwig was sleeping in her cage on the luggage rack and her new pet snake, Piper, had all four inches of her length stretched out across the opposite bench to soak up the sun that was shining through the exterior window. In the few days that she'd had Piper, Harry found that the snake enjoyed cuddling almost as much as Harry and as such spend much of her time slithering over Harry and looking for the best place to lay.
Harry had locked the door to their compartment with a simple 'colloportus' spell so that she could read in peace and spend her time with Death, who had faded out of sight while in the presence of others, and when the door started shaking as somebody was trying to force it open, Death placed a hand onto her book before disappearing.
Harry heard somebody shout 'finite incantatem' from the other side of the door before it was flung open and lo and behold, Draco Malfoy stepped through. She found herself mildly surprised that Draco could cast the undoing spell, even as simple as the spell was, but then thought better when she took into account his wizard upbringing where he, no doubt, had some sore of schooling before coming to Hogwarts.
He looked just as she remembered him in his last life. The blonde, nearly silver hair, the aristocratic features already visible as such a young age, and the air of superiority that he never ceased to carry with him. Just one look at him had all of her horrible memories of him coming to the forefront of her mind. She took a deep breath to center herself, and let her grip relax on her wand before addressing him.
"Can I help you?" She asked with an eyebrow raised. "Usually a locked door is very obviously a sign that one doesn't wish to be disturbed."
"Do you know who I am?" The blonde boy whined. He turned his nose up at her. "I'm a Malfoy; nobody tells us where we are or are not wanted. I don't recognize you, though - a mudblood, no doubt - if anybody doesn't belong its you."
"That's enough!" An adult in a child's body she may be, but patience she did not have. She directed the tip of her wand at Draco, holding it under her book so as not to be spotted. "This is your one warning, Malfoy. You will leave me be and watch your mouth or there will be consequences."
"Did you just tell me what to do? You filthy little thing!" He reached into his robes, clearly fishing for his wand, but Harry was faster and already in a position to cast.
"Voluptas magna!" She snapped off, followed by a near-instant "flippendo!"
The obnoxious boy was flung back out into the hallway of the carriage and Harry couldn't help but smile. She did give him a warning, but since the inception of the plan to ruin Draco, Harry had internally been hoping he would ignore it and she'd have her chance to use some of what she'd learned on him, such as the voluptas magna spell, or translated, great pleasure.
If her aim was true, then little Drakey poo would find his nipples unnaturally sensitive and pleasurable to play with. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but it was a start on the plan of transforming him. After all, it wouldn't do for him to fight the transformation or go to somebody for help undoing it. The whole thing hinged on making him want it, making him experience pleasures in a way that fostered the idea that women have the better end of the deal, and maybe being one of them wouldn't be so bad. The compulsions would help with it, but he could be hit with a finite at any time and he'd already demonstrated his competency of the spell.
What was to stop him from dispelling the voluptas magna? Well...it was a curse...a dark curse. It could be dispelled, eventually, unless Draco found himself accepting the curse in which case it would settle, but it was nothing that could be removed with anything simple or easy to cast so definitely nothing a first year could do on his own. Any one of the teacher and maybe even the upper years at Hogwarts could do so as well but she was banking on Draco's pride holding him back from the embarrassing act of telling anybody his nipples felt good, or maybe he wouldn't even connect the dots that it was a spell doing it to him.
She came out of her thoughts when she noticed Draco standing up from where he'd landed, after being thrown by her knockback jinx, and slammed the door shut with a smile. She replaced the locking charm and resettled herself next to the again visible Death who placed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in tight while placing a kiss into her hair.
"That is step one, my love," Death confirmed through her grin. "Your aim was true."
"Step one is the only step we've come up with, Death. We never did come to a real agreement of what to do next." Harry carded her hand through her hair, deep in thought. "Maybe I should just fire off another voluptas magna at his arse and see what happens from there."
Death laughed in response and took the book from Harry's lap before flipping to a page seemingly at random. Though once she pointed to the page, Harry began to think that maybe it wasn't so random. It was a permanent hair growth spell.
"We talked about, Death, "Harry grumbled. "We have to change him on the inside first. If we go changing his looks, then he'll know he's being cursed and get himself checked out."
"It's hair; his father has long hair does he not? And does Draco not aspire to be just like his father?"
"I suppose that's fair, but we'd have to make it his idea to grow it out," Harry conceded, flipping through to the page she was looking for. "This is a fairly weak compulsion here, that shouldn't be glaringly obvious. We could go the route that you suggested, making him want to copy his daddy dearest, and then after that sinks in we make him take notice of how feminine it is and how much he enjoys it that way."
"If we can make him enjoy having feminine hair..." Death paused like she was searching for the words to convey her thoughts. "It may be like dominoes. If he enjoys that aspect of himself being feminine, he may very well make the jump to transformation on his own."
"Still a big 'if'." Harry tilted her head. "And it would take a lot of the fun out of it for us."
"Not at all. If his mind is opened to feminity, then the curses we lay upon him will settle near-instantly and we can expect very little fight from him. The subterfuge of turning him against his will may be lost, but do you truly want to wait so long to see it done?"
"No," Harry smiled. "No, I suppose I don't. The next time we catch him alone, I'll hit him with the compulsion."
Death just smiled.
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"There is still a considerable distance to travel before this train reaches its destination," Death pointed out.
"Mhm," Harry mumbled into Death's chest, which she was currently using as a pillow.
"If you are amenable, I wish to introduce something new to our play."
"Oh? Like what," Harry asked, curiosity peaked and arousal already rising.
"Do you trust me?" Death asked, receiving a silent nod in return. "If you would sit on the edge of the bench and remove your underthings, then? Your skirt need not come off."
Excited, and slightly apprehensive, Harry did as instructed. She slid her knicker down her thin legs and kicked them off before stuffing them into her bag, and slid her butt to the edge of the bench as Death came to her knees on the floor in front of her.
"Lay back and relax. I promise you that this will not hurt."
Again, Harry did as she was told. She jumped slightly when her skirt was flipped up, though she relaxed in the knowledge that Death was likely keeping the door closes and window occluded so that they wouldn't be interrupted or spotted from the hall.
She shivered in arousal when she felt her lover's hot breath wash over her, and kisses pepper her thighs. She braced herself for the always overwhelming moment when Death's lips would meet her own, except they never did. She tilted her head up so that she could give Death a look of confusion when she felt Death instead place a kiss on the smooth expanse of skin between her arse and cleft.
Death's eyes narrowed when she noticed Harry watching her and as soon as Harry understood what was happening but before she had a chance to say anything about it, Death had run her tongue from the bottom of Harry's pussy, over that surprisingly sensitive stretch of skin and over her arsehole.
Harry jumped at the foreign sensation and her head knocked against the wall of the compartment they were in.
"Relax, my love, "Death whispered. "Please. Trust me."
Harry did trust her, they both knew that and it didn't even need to be said so before Harry had said anything, Death resumed what she was doing.
It was a strange feeling for Harry. It felt much better than she would have ever guessed, but it felt good in an entirely different way than oral stimulation of her pussy or even her nipples. She was sure it would take much, much longer to climax from having her arse played with but the fact that it was less intense made it easier to ride the waves.
She moaned in her high, girlish voice as Death's tongue teased around the rim of her rear hole, sometimes applying light pressure to the hole itself, enough to just barely penetrate without causing pain at the intrusion, and sometimes she rapidly flicked around the edges of her hole, just lightly brushing over the skin there.
Harry couldn't help but to place her hands on her chest and toy with her nipples as the same time as Death worked her over. Her fingers at first flitted over nipples but when that wasn't enough for her, she took a light grip on them and pulled away from her chest. Her nipples were very sensitive, they had found, so she couldn't be too rough with them but just the smallest bit of pain took her a long way.
She found herself unable to resist calling for more. She needed to cum, like never before and as great as the feeling of Death's tongue in such a dirty and taboo place felt, it just wasn't enough for the girl. She needed more!
She tried to rub her clit to bring herself off, but Death took Harry's wrist and held it and so Harry tried with her other hand. Her other hand was slapped away and before she could try again, Death's own hand was covering Harry's mound.
Death's tongue began to work harder at Harry's arse, dipping further into the hole with every swipe. It started to burn eventually, though not enough for Harry to call a stop to their play, if she even could stop her grunts and moans long enough to do so.
She was nearly in tears of desire when Death did something that they had stayed away from doing up until this point and slipped her pinky finger inside of Harry's pussy. She was small and far too tight to accommodate anything more than the older woman's smallest digit, but even then Harry cried out with the slight pleasurable stretch.
There was a flash of true pain as Death's finger hit a barrier inside of Harry and knowing what it was, Harry couldn't think of a better person to give it to.
"Do it," Harry breathed.
And she did. On Harry's command, Death pushed her pinky through Harry's barrier and claimed her. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as Harry would have thought, in fact the previous bump into it had hurt worse than the tearing of it, but that's not to say that Harry didn't tear up a little though she was soon again moaning as Death's lips lay over that bundle of nerves that lay atop Harry's womanhood.
The combination of having her clit worked over by Death's lips and tongue, as well as the finger slowly and gently massaging her insides, had Harry biting her tongue to keep from screaming Death's name as she reached her plateau and climaxed. Her body fell limp and her breathing was ragged, she was covered in sweat and her legs were wet with her own juiced.
None of that mattered when Death scooped Harry into her arms and sat down, bringing Harry to rest on her lap with her head tucked under Death's chin. A wave of her hand and the various smells and liquids were banished and all was fresh again.
"Death," Harry murmured, snuggling into the woman and laying a kiss on her neck. "Don't you want to feel good, too?"
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"I do feel good, flower," Death answered her as she brushed her hand through her young companion's wild hair. "I know you reject the fact, but you are my mistress and it is my greatest joy to serve you. And besides that, I don't think you're quite up to it, as of now."
"But-"
"Another time, if you're set upon it," The goddess interrupted. "For now, I would quite like to just hold you. Very little brings me as much pleasure as this."
Harry couldn't help the tired smile that came with the swelling of her heart. She was glad Death liked holding her because she quite liked being held. She actually found herself becoming quite grumpy if she didn't get her time in Death's arms; he was turning into a bit of a spoiled drama queen, she supposed.
"Do you think Dumbledore would have the balls to expel me if I just didn't go to classes?"
"I think he would find a way to convince you to attend," came the reply. "But would you truly wish to disappoint the old man?"
"No," Harry sighed. "I don't. He spent every waking moment of his life from the time he figured out there was a horcrux in me until the time he died, trying to figure out how to get it out of me. I may have had to die in the end, but he did try and I can't blame him for having no other choice."
"I believe he knew or had a very strong suspicion, that you would survive," Death supplied. "He is a flawed man, but a good one."
"This is going to be the most boring four years of my life if I don't figure something out, though," Harry continued with the original topic of classes. "Hogwarts has nothing to teach me and I'll go spare having to go through it all again. Maybe I'll just disguise some books to look like first years books and study them instead."
Harry couldn't hold back the yawn that followed. Allowing Death to lay her down so that her head was using Death's lap as a pillow, she stretched out on the bench and closed her eyes, ready for a nap.
Harry was woken from her slumber by the announcement that they would be arriving in Hogsmeade station in fifteen minutes. She scooped up Piper and handed her to Death to watch, before grabbing Hedwig's cage and her trunk and slipping into the hall during a lull in the rush of students.
There was a lot of jostling as students were in a rush to leave the train, but she eventually stepped off onto the platform and hauled her luggage to the already massive pile, to be delivered to Hogwarts by she assumed, the elves.
After that, it was almost exactly as she remembered it. Hagrid calling the first years to the boats, four to a boat, she was pretty sure the two girls would become Hufflepuffs and the boy a Ravenclaw, the 'oohs and awws' when the castle came into view. It just wasn't impressive to Harry anymore. For a long time, Hogwarts was Harry's home but that was a long time ago. Now it was just somewhere she had to be.
After a depressingly long boat ride, they came to a small pier that was likely only ever used for delivering students, and then Hagrid left them until McGonnagal could come to collect them. There was no speech from Malfoy this year - Harry's early humiliation must have shut down his bluster for the day - she thought with smug satisfaction.
Eventually, the Deputy Headmistress collected them and they were led into the great hall. They were all called, one at a time, to sit on the spindly stool and have the hat placed on their heads, which was also exactly as she remembered it being with everybody going to the same house as the last go-round until her name was called.
She confidently made her way to the stool and took a seat, where the hat fell over her eyes when it was placed on her head.
"Hmm, difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see-"
Harry tuned it out; it was the same things the hat had whispered into her ear before and she knew exactly how to handle it.
"Gryffindor. I choose Gryffindor," she thought.
"Gryffindor, hmm?" the little voice in her head said. "You would do well in Slytherin, you know?"
"Yes, yes; I know it's all in my head. Gryffindor."
"Well if you're sure then," the hat said into her head, and then out loud. "Better be Gryffindor!"
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the Gryffindor table cheered. Half of the relief was that the hat apparently couldn't tell that she was a time-traveling dimension-hopper, the other half was that the hat had listened when she told it to put her in Gryffindor. She would have cursed half of Slytherin house in the first week if she'd been put there.
As she took her seat at the Gryffindor table, ignoring all the pats on her back that made her hackles rise at the unwanted touches, she glanced over at the Slytherin table and chuckled darkly as she noticed Malfoy with his hand under his shirt, clearly enjoying the curse she had laid on him.