I'm sorry that I took so long with this chapter. I wish I could say the delay was for school and less because of Minecraft than it was... I also had a hard time writing the chapter, it changed a lot from what I planed it to be. Mostly I had to cut a scene at the end. It'll be added to a future chapter, because it helps explain the different relationships Harry will encounter as a Lord.

Harry gasped, panted for breath. It had been a quick exchange, but he had just defeated Draco Malfoy in a duel. It wasn't a strenuous duel, but his nerves were taking over. It didn't help that the other first years around them were gossiping about Harry. The worst of them even approached Harry and heaped praise onto him. Harry thought between pants.

"What did I do? Why do they want to praise me." Yes, he had defeated Malfoy, but Malfoy was showing off, and Harry didn't even know how cast that spell. He shouldn't be praised for luck.

Luckily, in short order their peer's anxiety over being sorted started to distract them from Harry. Although, he still heard occasional whispers about him, such as those asking each other who he was. Asking why nobody recognized him from their finishing school. Harry knew. And he was terrified of people discovering who he was - that they wouldn't treat him normal.

There was a soft creaking, and light escaped into their room from a door. When it was closed it disappeared into the wall, but a woman appeared from the light. She was tall, old and wrinkled. She carried herself with such a force of dignity that the room turned quieter as each student turned to notice her, until there was silence. Despite seeming stern and dignified, Harry could see she held a reserved smile. Just like Draco's hidden malevolence, she had a hidden warmth.

"I am Professor McGonagall," she said, her voice a strange mixture of shrill, pert, and curt. "I am the head of Gryffindor house, follow me. The sorting ceremony is beginning."

All gossip over Harry was lost into conspiracies about the sorting ceremony. They formed a line, loosely by last name. Except for Harry. Professor McGonagall guided him to the back of the line, separated from Ron and Hermione by at least a few people.

"I'm sorry," Professor McGonagall said, shifting her eyes and quietly adding "Lord Potter, you have found yourself the victim of the headmaster's generosity and mischief. He wants the rest of the children to have their moment in the spotlight, and perhaps to conduct your introduction with a little more grandeur."

Professor McGonagall returned to the front of the line, allowing the students near him to return to their gossip and theories about the sorting ceremony.

"My brothers went here. They told me that you have to choose a monster to fight. They chose things like a ghoul, or a Dire wolf. Not me, I'm going to challenge the toughest monster there. Just watch me, they might even let me graduate early."

Others gave similar stories, scarring some of the more nervous students. "Well, I think it'll be more of an intellectual test." Hermione chimed in, calming some students.

"Nah, just the Ravenclaws. They're supposed to be smart, but they don't even know how cool magic is."

Harry could feel Hermione and Lisa's eyes rolling and laughed.

They were led into the great hall. The ceiling was a reflection of the star filled sky, and the room was lit by hundreds of floating candles. There was the staff table, with dozens seated. And four tables, each magnificently decorated with banners and other celebrations of the four houses, each table with at least a hundred students. In front of the staff table, there was a stool, with a hat sat atop it. When they came close to the hat, it burst into song, introducing itself and announced that it would peer into each student, examine them to find which house they belonged in. Many of the first years sighed in relief that the sorting process was so simple.

As the sorting began, Harry was quickly distracted. They were each called by name. Soon, all of Hogwarts would know he was Lord Potter. He panicked, unsure if he could handle the fame, he knew he didn't want to. He wished he could at least tell Ron himself, but there were too many people between them.

Harry noticed a few names. Lisa went to Ravenclaw, Susan to Hufflepuff. Draco gleamed on the way to Slytherin table. Ron and Hermione to Gryffindor. A pit of anxiety was growing in Harry's stomach. He had hoped that he wouldn't have to think about which house he wanted to be in. But he saw that the sorting hat considered what some students wanted. or feared. Harry had to choose.

It was between Slytherin and Gryffindor. With Lisa in Ravenclaw, that was tempting, but he had already crossed it out. Something felt right about Slytherin. It could make him powerful, but did he want that? It would lend him authority. They are leaders after all. But did he want that? Kind of.

Then again, did he really want to be in the same house as Malfoy? He was a git; he put on a charming air and was competent. But He didn't seem like a friend. Is that what all Slytherins were like? Were the rumors truer than Harry liked?

Harry had been unaware of the world for a while, but the sudden silence jarred him out of it. Between dozens of staff and hundreds of students, there was silence, and all it took was a name.

"Lord Harry Potter," Professor McGonagall called, a little irritated at repeating herself.

Harry blushed as he approached the stool. A few dozen pairs of students murmured theories or hopes about which house he would be in. He wished that he had as much an idea where he should go as they seemed to have. He tried to find someone he knew in the crowd, but couldn't find anyone and sat on the stool, alone.

The hat landed on his head and the hall was silent again, trying to hear the hat deliberating with itself. "Not Ravenclaw," it mumbled an apology. "Not Hufflepuff," it agreed.

It was quiet for a few seconds. "Yes, you would be great in Slytherin. Yes, there is much to admire about Gryffindor."

Harry waited until he couldn't stand it anymore. He almost silently asked "What house will I go to?"

The hat grumbled at Harry, "I sense a lot of Slytherin in you. Still, you are unsure. And I do consider what the wizard thinks. So, tell me, what criteria should you be sorted with? Your cleverness? No, you don't think so. What about your bravery? Your Cunning? Should I sort you on what traits you exhibit, or those that you wish you did? Hmm, all so interesting."

What criteria was so important that Harry wanted it to define his life. To guide him. He thought about why he wanted to be in each house. Then he thought of why he wouldn't want to be in any house. Was Draco enough that he didn't want to be in Slytherin. What if all Slytherins were just a little bad.

Then, a thought surprised him. What if his parents were in Slytherin? Would he still think they were all bad?

"I don't care what house," Harry was surprised as he blurted out the words. "I just want to be in the house my parents were in."

Harry realized just how important the people around him were, and the people that he wished could have been around him.

"Gryffindor" the hat called.

The great hall erupted in celebration, the Gryffindors the happiest and loudest of all. The Slytherins celebrated enough to be polite. Professor McGonagall retrieved the sorting hat, and Harry left to find a place at Gryffindor table. Before he sat, he found Lisa, she looked happy, or maybe it was disappointed, or something else. He couldn't figure out her face.

As he sat, he imagined his parents sitting there, exactly where he was. Hagrid had mentioned "the greatest of Gryffindors." Harry belonged somewhere.

There was a great feast. Food appeared at their tables, and it was anything Harry could have dreamed of having, and as much of everything as anyone wanted. The headmaster, Dumbledore also made a speech. Not many people were able to get much out of it, but Harry thought it was pleasantly meaningless. Dumbledore also made a few announcements on behalf of the staff.

During the feast, Harry had to explain to Ron why he didn't tell him he was a Lord. Ron slowly forgave him. Which annoyed Harry, because there shouldn't be anything to forgive. Hermione was the real issue though. During the feast she didn't look at him directly. She openly addressed him as "Lord," and in generally acted very meekly and submissive towards him. She was treating him like Lord Potter. He explained that he wanted her to treat him like Harry, and silently cursed the finishing school for teaching people to treat him different. He'd convince Hermione to act like normal with him.

The students were being led to their common rooms. The Gryffindors followed Percy, the prefect.

"Just treat me normal," Harry complained to another student who approached him like he was famous.

"Don't worry Lord Potter," one of the twins teased, "We didn't let ourselves get indoctrinated at those finishing schools."

"We tried to get kicked out."

"Put it's a prerequisite to Hogwarts, made it complicated."

"So, we won't be calling you 'Lord Potter.'"

"Right, King Potter though."

"Master Potter, Emperor Potter."

"Supreme Majesty of Wizards has a ring to it."

Harry blushed, he knew the twins were being good natured about it, but he was relieved when Ron stepped in.

"I guess some people don't have an easy time with fame." Ron mused, "Not me, in a heartbeat I'd be captain of the Chudley Cannons. There's a professional quidditch team. And I'd be their captain by now if they sent talent agents to the burrow."

"Of course, brother."

"They have been lacking players that score for the enemy team,"

Ron's face flushed, and they continued walking. They were on a flight of stairs, waiting their turn to step through a portrait into the Gryffindor common room. The prefects were whispering the password to students as they passed through.

"Lord Potter," Professor McGonagall's distinct voice sounded. Their group turned to her; she was a few steps bellow them.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I will be escorting you to your quarters."

"But the Gryffindor Common room is right there?" Ron explained.

"Correct you are, Weasley. However, there is little considered common about a Lord. There is a Lord's wing for each house. That is where I will be bring Lord Potter."

"But professor," Harry complained. "I'd rather be with the rest of the house. I'm not special. And... I don't want to be alone."

Professor McGonagall had been standing very straight, sturdy and formal. Uncomfortable looking. At Harry's plea, she softened noticeably.

"Be that as it may, I am sorry Lord Potter, but you must follow me to your quarters." She saw the group exchange worried glances.

She sighed. "You can bring whoever you want into your quarters outside of class hours and before curfew. Let everyone settle in, and get your things unpacked before you worry about that."

Harry reluctantly left his friends. He followed McGonagall up the stairs, passed the portrait to the Gryffindor common room. The Lord's wing was close, but it was still separate. Up just a flight or two from the Gryffindor common room; on an otherwise plain, forgettable landing, there was a door.

"I expect that you see a door." Professor McGonagall explained. "I don't see it. Only Lords and those they invite can generally see it. There hasn't been a Lord in this wing for a while. So, there shouldn't be a password. You may open it, and if you would, invite me in."

Harry grabbed the door handle and looked at Professor McGonagall, she seemed really unable to see the door, or even follow Harry's arm towards it. It was truly hidden. He pushed the door open, "Come in," he tentatively offered.

They walked into the Lord's wing. Harry marveled at the architecture. It was the fanciest he'd ever seen - which was helped along by magic. The room stretched into a hall, but it had the size and scale of a large ballroom. There were pillars, with magnificent statues carved into them, some people, but most of the lions and griffons. There were bold maroon banners. The ceiling was like interchanging animations. The most brilliant of them had a centaur throwing stars into the sky to create constellations Harry had never seen. It was the most brilliant room Harry had ever seen, but there was one oddity. There was only one door deeper into the wing.

Predicting Harry's question, McGonagall answered "This is the Lord's wing of Gryffindor house. It fits itself to the needs of the Lords dwelling here. There is only one Lord in Gryffindor right now. So, there is only one room beyond the Lord's common."

Harry looked at the room. Almost bigger than it was a moment ago. The room almost echoed with silence. It was lonely. As if no matter how far away, he got from 4 Privet Dr., no matter how big his cupboard became, it felt like there would only ever be one person inside.

McGonagall led him to the door to his room. "I'm sorry that you'll be alone today. Remember, you can invite people to your leisure." She thought for a moment and sighed, "I have seen inside these rooms. Don't be overwhelmed. And don't feel... obligated."

He looked at her, confused, worried. But silent. He turned back to his door, not yet brave enough to dive deeper into the lonely corridor. For a moment, Professor McGonagall gripped Harry's shoulder firmly, comfortingly. But only a moment. She let go; and was gone. Harry sighed; he had felt like this enough before. It felt worse now, but he knew it would end this time. He grabbed the door handle and entered.

Harry entered a living room. It was beautifully furnished, but still simple in a way that gave away this was a wizard's dwelling. It was also large, probably enough to comfortably fit thirty or forty people. Harry wanted to enjoy it. The Living room lead into a couple hallways. There was a series of rooms down one. A restroom, some bedrooms, and a few rooms that could become anything. Down the other hallway, He found the master bedroom. There were other rooms, but he figured they would be like the first hall, so he entered the master bedroom.

The bedroom was almost as large as the living room. The bed was larger than Harry expected to be comfortable. It was made out of good materials, but the scale was imposing, and seemingly impractical. There was a closet as big as one of Dudley's bedrooms back at the Dursley's. Harry was no longer surprised by the magnificence of the furnishings or architecture or scale. There was a small alcove in the wall, as though it led to another hallway. It wasn't obvious from most of the room. From the alcove, there were other doors connected to the master bedroom, each with a plaque over them.

"Wife's chambers" three of them said. Perplexing Harry.

"That means you can arrange those." Leopold had said.

"Those," Harry fully realized. As a Lord, he was allowed to have multiple wives, maybe expected. There was another door, behind it hid a small hallway. It had three doors, the plaques above them read "Concubine Quarters", "Servants quarters", and "Slaves Quarters".

Harry stared at the doors and plaques. What sort of place was the wizarding world. He hardly could have imagined marrying someday, he was so unpopular. Now, he might be expected to have wives, and concubines, and slaves. He was ready to hyperventilate but did what he could to hold it off. He closed the door, intentionally turning to the rest of the bedroom, trying to block out that hidden hallway. His things were in a pile inside the room, and he needed something to focus on, so he went to work putting his things away.

Hours later, Harry had somewhat regained control. All his things were put away, and he let his owl out of its cage. He needed a name for it. It was freely flying around the room, the motion gave Harry something to focus on, and it helped him finish calming down. He was thinking about how he might have to mentally prepare himself to have multiple relations, when there was a knock. It was faint, and far away, and impossible. But it seemed to be a knock on the Lord's Wing door.

Harry jumped off his bed to go inspect the noise. It wasn't possible that there was a knock on the Lord's Wing. It was hidden, even Professor McGonagall was hardly able to lead Harry to it. She's the head of Gryffindor house and probably lead a few Lords to this wing before him. The knock sounded again. Closer, now that Harry was most of the way back to the Lord's common.

The knock rapped again, his heartbeat with excitement. Had Ron and Hermione snuck their way out to find him? They were the last ones to watch him follow Professor McGonagall, maybe they pieced together where he was. He opened the door to the Lord's wing. Two girls stood there without reaction.

"We are knocking on a wall," one of them complained.

Harry recognized them. Emmalia and Pansy Parkinson. They wore Slytherin clothes, and Harry remembered them arguing about what house they would be in when he passed them on the stairs to Hogwarts.

"Shhhh," the shorter one commanded, "This is it. We followed him before and tried the other landings. This is the place because it was hard to find. So quiet. We are already loud enough without talking."

Emmalia pointed at Harry, "It's just a wall, please Pansy, let's go back. I'll come with you any other time, I promise."

Pansy looked up at her pleading sister, almost faltering; and then looked at the wall, and Harry met her eyes. "No. We won't risk being second place to anyone. No Parkinson would."

Emmalia glanced around Hogwarts, dark and hollow in the night, and whimpered as they continued their argument, unaware of their audience. Harry toyed with the idea of letting them in, he didn't want to. But Emmalia looked rather uncomfortable. While he mulled it over, he examined the two girls.

Pansy was short, she had to tilt her head up slightly to look at Harry. She had a pug-like face, with gentle freckles under her eyes. Bold lips. Her hair was a clean brunette, and short. It reached just a few inches further than her ears, in a direct and flayed out pixie cut. She was spunky and forward. In charge, like she could make people shorter with a stare, just to look down on them. Except towards Emmalia, to her sister, Pansy was kind and gentle in addition to forceful.

Emmalia was tall and slender. Harry would usually try to not notice a girl's breasts, but hers were perfect, so he made an exception. Eventually moving on. Her head was a golden blond, that glowed slightly like platinum, also long and silky. Her skin was slightly pale and seemed to glow like moonlight in the dim light. Harry could call Pansy attractive, but Emmalia was alluring. They type of beautiful that could make a man redefine what "his type" is. She was shy, and meek. Perhaps a little too submissive if Harry had to critique her. But she was a Slytherin, so even that flaw may be short lived. And she was at least a little taller than Harry.

"Come on," Emmalia pleaded, tugging slightly, and still desperately on Pansy's sleeve.

Pansy huffed and folded her arms. "Emmalia. I, well I want to admit something." She looked away bashfully.

Emmalia tried to tug Pansy away, "Whatever it is, we should talk in our room."

"We didn't come here for me to seduce Lord potter."

Emmalia's face fell, and she struggled to ask "W-wh-at? Then, why are we here?"

Pansy seemed at a loss as she tried to respond, until soft meowing silenced them. The girls turned and looked at the snide cat until it walked off.

"Filches' cat!" Emmalia softly exclaimed. She looked at Pansy, showing off just how frightened she was."

Harry remembered a grimy and unpleasant man at the staff table that Dumbledore had indicated during his announcements.

"Bloody... that snitch." She turned to the door and began shouting. "Lord Potter, we need you to open up. I can't have my sister getting in trouble because of me."

Emmalia yipped with fright as previously invisible hands pulled her through the wall. Pansy was only briefly surprised, and Harry pulled her in next.

"What are you doing here," Harry said in a harsh whisper, trying to sound upset. Emmalia made it hard, she looked at him so relieved. Harry focused his attention towards Pansy. She looked back at him smug - victorious, mischievous, as though she were so clever.

"Let me make this obvious," Pansy said, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck. She pulled close to his face. Harry blushed and turned his head, but she only drew closer to him, like it was a game.

"It wasn't easy finding you; you know." Pansy's voice was slathered in a seductive tone. It was obviously forced; still, Harry needed conscious effort to prevent getting turned on. She was close enough that their breaths mixed. Breathing in her stale air was making him go lightheaded. "Deserves a reward, doesn't it," she whispered.

After a tense moment, she dropped her arms. "Lord Potter." she mused, circling him. "A little handsome. Good... enough. Not much of a build, but I'm sure you'll fix that."

Harry's gaze followed Pansy as she circled and examined him. He didn't like her pointing out that he wasn't brawny.

"I'm guessing you don't know much about magic. But you did beat Malfoy. I wouldn't have any less for Emmalia."

"What?" Emmalia softly asked, accusingly. "No, no no no. You brought me here to help you Sed... well, for you to get Lord Potter." she finished in a desperate whisper.

Pansy dawdled over to Emmalia, "I was just trying to tell you. I lied." Pansy straddled behind Emmalia, wrapping her arms around her stomach to help force Emmalia towards Harry. Emmalia tried to resist, but the best she could manage was to shy behind her hands.

"I came here to give Lord Potter to you." Pansy whispered to Emmalia, looking Harry in the eyes.

Harry looked at Emmalia. His first instinct was beyond temptation. He had struggled over the thought of multiple wives earlier, but if it would be like this, for girls like her; then maybe it wasn't so bad. Pansy smiled wickedly at Harry; she couldn't help but make things worse for him.

Emmalia was rigid in an embarrassed terror as Pansy begun to unbutton her her robes. Pansy sprung opened a boob window, the only thing between Harry and Emmalia's breasts was lacy lingerie. Pansy juggled Emmalia's breasts, showing them off to Harry.

"Aren't they perfect," Pansy was luring Harry in. Emmalia whimpered as Pansy forced her closer to Harry.

"I... No, I can't. I'm..." Emmalia turned away from Harry, "I'm not worth a Lord, especially not like you... Pansy."

Pansy rolled her eyes and puppeted Emmalia. Emmalia rubbed Harry's cock through his pants. Harry blushed at the thought of Emmalia feeling his boner. Emmalia's face was turned away, for a moment it seemed that she didn't want to be there, but then her fingers started to eagerly wrap around him, as best she could through his pants.

"Seems our Lord's cock would disagree," Pansy was teasing both of them now. She forced Emmalia's hand to go faster and grope him more gently. Emmalia's face was turned away from Harry before, she was still too shy to look at him, but she was staring at his chest.

Harry moaned softly. Wordlessly telling Emmalia that he wanted her. She squeezed him again, but only for a moment before her fear took over again, and she scurried a few steps away.

Pansy sighed, and without looking at Harry said, "Your wife is having a little trouble with this whole situation. You better treat her nicely."

"I haven't decided anything," Harry chided. "Still, it's good for your chances that your goal is for Emmalia to marry me. Much easier at this point."

Pansy gritted her teeth, and Harry shared a smirk with Emmalia. "Fine then, Emmalia, I'll get things started. Take over when you are... ready."

Harry was pushed onto his back, with Pansy straddling him. She swayed her hips across his crotch a few times. As soon as she grabbed the hem of her shirt, it was thrown off. Harry could tell she knew why she was here because there was no bra.

Pansy cupped her breasts in her hands and bounced them, and quietly complained, "why are you so small," at them. Like she was playfully recognizing what she saw as her body's shortcomings.

"Still beautiful," Harry added. "I love bitesized candies, and if they were close, I'd prove that they are bite sized."

Pansy's face finally showed any hint of red. Harry was excited how shameless she was ready to be. "Tempting," she mused.

Pansy lowered herself so that she could press his cock into her chest. She tried to give him a titjob, but her breasts were so small that it was impractical. Harry waited patiently, trying not to be rude. She furiously attempted to rub him, but was forced to give up.

"I'll be really mad at you if that never works." She threatened her chest. "Emmalia, come give him a titjob - we don't want to leave our dear Lord disappointed.

Emmalia was too shy to respond, so Harry stepped in, "I don't like being called "Lord," I'm a kid like the rest of the school.

"Yes," Pansy rolled her eyes, just with a propensity for being extra popular with pretty Slytherin girls."

"Just don't call me "Lord," Harry asked.

"Lord," Pansy seemed to think that just because she was on top, she had power over him.

"I'll shut you up if I need to."

"Lo—"

Harry grabbed her by the back of the head and plunged her head onto his cock. The surprised caused her to gag on him. He let her catch her breath before continuing. He helped her bob up and down on him. Her eyes shifted between him and his cock. She sucked and licked him, testing how to best satisfy her Lord.

"Lord." She tried to say, but every time she did, he would make her deep throat him. She seemed to like chocking on his dick.

"I promise I won't waste any," she said between breaths after the latest deep throat. "So let me drink it, Lord."

Harry thrusted into her mouth, help her reach the base of his dick. She sucked as he gave little thrusts, his extract building until he couldn't hold it anymore. He came directly in her throat. He had to hold her on his cock longer than before, and she gasped for breath as he released her.

He rubbed his cock on her face to clean it. "Have you learned not to call me Lord?"

"For now," Pansy panted, giving an unfocused and satisficed expression.

"Well, I suppose it can't be helped. I'll make sure to train you properly."

Harry moved so that he could thrust his dick between Pansy's breasts, as small as they were. She was still a little haughty, and it was bringing out Harry's sadistic side, so he was going to tease her while getting off. Large breasts pressed into Harry as he was rubbing his cock on Pansy's chest. From behind him, Emmalia grabbed his cock and started to rub it.

"Excuse me... Lord... But I'd like to... Participate... Or rather... satisfy you." Emmalia timidly offered.

Harry covered Pansy's ears. He was afraid of regretting this later, but Emmalia was so alluring, "Just this once; but as Lord, I commend it." He smiled at Emmalia to let her know he wasn't too serious. Pansy batted at Harry, apparently, he didn't cover her hears too well.

"I can call myself what I am. I just don't want others looking at me like something I'm not... special... So I'll still give either of you the training it takes to keep you from calling me Lord."

"Well then," both Pansy and Emmalia said at the same time. Pansy looked away, embarrassed, "Go on Emmalia."

Emmalia pulled Harry off of Pansy. and took him to the door to his wing. Harry opened the door for her. When it closed behind them, Harry grabbed the back of the head and pulled her into a kiss. They made out, kissing, and nibbling each other's lips as Harry guided them to the master bedroom. Once there, she gently shoved him onto the bed; her strength wasn't being assertive, but Harry thought the effort was cute. She took a calming breath, and then began to sway as she finished removing her robes. As they dropped to the floor, she paused with her pussy facing him, so that he could admire her.

He looked her up and down. Her breasts were beautiful and the perfect size. Her body was toned and soft, her skin was flawless, and her pussy shaved. She climbed over him, and straddled him with her pussy over his face, so that she could spread the lips of her pussy for him. "Lord Potter... I, er, I... Lord Potter, I think I need you to train me here."

Harry lifted his face into her pussy. She was delicious. He pressed his face as deep into her as he could go. Licking all along the opening of her pussy, and inside her. and nuzzling her clit. She began to pant. She was shamelessly dripping her love juices all over him, and her chest heaved with pants of ecstasy.

She moaned as she came lightly, and Harry didn't stop. When it was over, Harry pushed her to the side so that he could get on top of her. He rubbed his cock over the top of her vagina. after a few strokes she started to hum wantingly.

"Beg for it properly," Harry demanded.

"Please Lord, fill me with your cock."

Harry gave her a light slap on her cheek. She looked up at him dazed. "I'll kiss it better later. but this is training, remember.

She gave him her first defiant look of the night. "Fill me with your Lordly dick, Lord Potter," He slapped her again.

He was still rubbing his cock over her opening, teasing her clit. He would make her want enough to break her. She began thrusting against him. When she tried to grab his dick and guide it into her, he slapped her clit. Just enough that it was a mixture of pain and excitement. She moaned at it.

"Beg properly,"

"Lord Potter,"

He smacked her clit lightly again.

"Lord Potter," she moaned.

Smack.

"Lord Potter," she begged.

But this time, harry didn't smack her. He pulled away. He wasn't even teasing her now. And she couldn't handle that. She started to rub herself. She showed off masturbating for him and begged, "Please, please please please."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Then moved down and kissed and nibbled her neck. He sucked on her breasts, and then moved back up to whisper to her "beg properly."

He lined up his cock with her opening. She had one more chance to be a good girl. She looked at his cock desperately. She needed him inside of her. "Harry, I need you. Fill me, please."

Harry thrusted into her. She gasped. Harry knew she came instantly. He wouldn't last long either. She was perfectly wet and tight and warm. He groaned as he tried to hold back. But he couldn't. He tried to pull out, but her legs wrapped around him. "Don't waste our first time Harry. Fill me, like I begged."

Harry came, he released inside of her. It was exciting that she wanted him so badly. That he could make someone want him so much. He panted as he regained control of himself after coming. Pansy had teased him for being small framed, he wondered what he could do to women like Emmalia if he also had been ripped going for him. But that was a goal for another time.

Harry fell back into the pillows and pulled Emmalia to his cock. "Clean this off," he gently ordered, "so that we can go again." and she eagerly complied.

A while later, maybe a few hours, they let Pansy into Harry's wing. She was a little put off from being left out for so long. But brimming with excitement over their success with Harry so far.

"Well, at least this means that it's a sure thing." Pansy said as the three cuddled on the couch in the living room.

"Well," Harry said. "Not a sure thing." He looked at Emmalia. "I do like you. But I've got someone else to ask first."

Emmalia looked at him quizzically. "What" Pansy accused.

"Well, you didn't give me a chance to explain. But I've already got someone I'd like to ask to marry."

Emmalia looked at the floor, embarrassed. "Well, I wouldn't mind being your second wife."

Pansy looked at Harry aghast. "The bloody Hell, Lor... Harry?"

"Decided now's not the time to swallow my cock?" Harry teased.

"Bloody well it's not. Why haven't you proposed to Emmalia yet, you've already had sex. For hours even. If being this smitten the first time you meet isn't enough, what is?"

"Well, my first time with a girl kind of... er, well it took all night."

Emmalia looked at Harry with reserved shock, maybe jealousy. Pansy shamelessly starred at his dick first.

"I came a few times. But yes, I lasted that long." Harry added indignantly.

Pansy turned to Emmalia. "Why didn't you keep him going all night?"

Emmalia replied quietly, ever since a little before they let Pansy back in, Emmalia's shy nature had started to get the better of her again.

"It's a little embarrassing doing things like that in front of you. And I was worried it was cold out there."

"Fine, just means we have our work cut out for us." Pansy assured Emmalia. "Harry, we'll need to stay here tonight. Since we've got classes it's best, we get to bed. But we'll be back tomorrow night." Pansy patted his cock playfully, "So don't get caught up with any other girls. Just my, Emmalia, and that girl we'll make you forget about."

Pansy hopped up and walked away, being playfully seductive for Harry as she left.

Harry couldn't help himself and called back to her "Which of the three that beat you to it are you going to make me forget about."

Harry and Emmalia heard Pansy stumble to the floor. They shared a laugh before Harry signed and turned to Emmalia. "There were three of them, before you too. And just recently. My first time was like, yesterday. Things have gotten really, well, exciting for me since I discovered the wizarding world."

Harry continued. "I'm telling you this because I don't know what I'm going to do. I might ask you to marry me. But in calm moments like these, it seems pretty scary to have multiple wives. I don't want to make you feel second place... even if I do ask you as well."

Emmalia stood. Distancing from Harry slightly, she didn't seem angry at him. But she needed a little space to breath on her own. "Harry, I like you. So, well, I might get over myself enough to keep trying, like Pansy wants me to. Maybe you could have me as a wife. Even a concubine, or a slave. What I'm saying is, I'll think I'll be yours if you want me to." She smiled at him, "besides, the worst that could happen is you have a couple of Slytherin girls mad at you."

"That sounds like a threat" Harry played along.

"Well, come to bed with me if you want to delay finding out."