Chapter 5: Sandman
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Deep in the bowels of the London branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, there was a system of millenia old caverns. Caverns that wizards had only ever caught glimpses of as they were led around in rail carts on the way to their vaults.
These caverns were the home of the Goblin Nation. For all of history, their depths had been nothing but a mystery to wizardkind.
Until now.
"How many troughs of sloth brains do you reckon?" Asked a short, white haired wizard as he leveled his wand at a row of deep metal containers.
Horace Slughorn looked contemplative as he observed the potion.
It was unlike any other potion he'd ever brewed.
For starters, he'd never had a hundred goblins armed with spears watching his every move as he brewed. And he'd never had to collaborate with so many people before; there were about three other potions masters and a dozen assistants helping in the brewing.
"I'd say three for now." He stated after analyzing the concoction's current color and viscosity. To his left, Andrews and Greengrass nodded in agreement.
The old man flicked his wand and three large metal containers, filled to the brim with sloth brains, deposited their contents into the smoldering lake.
That was another first. He'd never brewed a potion in a crater the size of the Black Lake. The quantities they were working with were mind boggling.
When the idea had first been presented to him, he'd called it insane. It would never work. But then they'd gotten the little parchment notepads that allowed the hundreds of brewing stations to communicate, allowing for an instant discourse to form between all of the world's potions masters. They'd all come to the realization that this thing could actually work.
When the Americans said there weren't enough sloth brains to meet the demand, a Ugandan potioneer mentioned that crocodile brains were a decent substitute in a pinch.
Similarly, when the supply of sopophorous beans became an issue in England and most of Europe, a colleague from South America said that they'd been substituting those for psilocybin mushrooms for decades, with the added benefit of having a much more potent effect at lower doses.
And so, Horace was brewing his giant potion lake, under the watchful eye of heavily armed goblins with many of his staple ingredients swapped out.
It was actually quite exhilarating.
"Motherfucker. This is actually going to work, isn't it?" Greengrass said as the potion turned a pale lilac.
About forty giant paddles, operated by goblin machinery, were stirring the potion the requisite amount of turns.
"Afraid so old chap." Slughorn joked. They'd made a bet at the start of this, Greengrass owed him a tidy sum of galleons. "Like I told you, I would never bet against Harry Gaunt."
…
In the scorching hot sands of the Sahara desert, sand dunes were disappearing.
Systematically, a giant wire mesh was levitated over the very top of each dune. The mesh was made of iron with a wooden frame. The frame was littered with runic symbols, symbols that were currently glowing.
The mesh was dropped on the dune and made quick work of it, consuming the sand at a rapid pace while spewing small glass bottles out the other end.
All over the desert, for many square miles, this process was being repeated over and over by many teams of wizards. They were almost all North African, but there were also quite a few others from around the world, including a sizable contingent of foreign curse breakers, who had traveled down here from Egypt after being requisitioned for this task.
Under the gaze of the burning sun, the dunes would be converted into bottles, which would then be grouped and vanished away to the next stage in the process.
In just two days, they would create enough bottles to supply the entirety of the old world.
….
"I think we'll crack the whole thing!" A young woman said excitedly.
Her companion, a middle aged man with tired eyes and receding brown hair, shook his head. "You've been in that room, Marcy. Not exactly a collection of geniuses, is it?"
Marcy rolled her eyes. "You're just extra harsh, Phillip. We're all smart, its the reason we're here!"
Phillip sighed, leaning further onto the wall they were resting on. "I know, but when it comes to this, I think China or MACUSA will crack it first. They certainly have us beat on manpower."
"So do the Russians." She pointed out.
He snorted. "Ruskies are only good for throwing curses around. Definitely don't have the brains for this."
"You know the inventor of the Pensieve was Russian, right?" She countered.
"One good idea they've had."
Marcy snorted while Phillip chuckled. "Come on, we've fucked around long enough, let's go back in."
Before they could enter through the large double doors they'd been lounging by, another woman came rushing out.
"They've done it! The Chinese have figured out the tracker! Range is about a hundred miles, from what I heard."
Marcy groaned as Phillip shot her an I-told-you-so look. "Well then, I guess that means we're no longer needed."
"Hold your horses there Phil." The woman, Barbara, said. "They figured out the tracker, we still need to tie it with a delivery system. Besides, we could try to improve on that range once we get the prototype."
There was a new fire in Marcy's eyes as Phil sighed. They might not have been first to creating the tracker, but there were still necessary discoveries to be made before the deadline.
He had to begrudgingly admit, even if they ended up being beaten to every single discovery, the work they were doing was fascinating. Hopefully, when this was all over, something like this international effort could continue on. The wizarding world needed it dearly.
…
For the first time in history, the Great Hall was full on Christmas Eve.
The dinner was extravagant. Roast turkey, ham and beef, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, greens, peas, corn, fanciful loaves of freshly baked bread. All of that and more were strewn out across the four long tables, which tonight had no house banner over them, encouraging company to mix and match freely.
The tables had been elongated, and the staff table had been removed, accounting for all the families that were calling Hogwarts home for the night.
Harry sat with his girls, though Minerva had to sit a ways away with her parents.
Harry took a sip of his champagne, with Lyra to his left making a mess of her plate as Walburga tried to scold her. To his right, Emily was slowly savoring her food, a glass of pumpkin juice at her side.
Harry observed everyone as they conversed quietly. The mood was light, but he knew that deep down, everyone was worried, terrified. In just a few hours, the world was going to change, one way or the other.
Harry stood from his seat, his glass secured in his hand as he cleared his throat. He used no magic, yet almost instantly, the entire room quieted down.
"Friends, as many of you know, if you've done your astronomy homework that is, there are days that are special, days that are significant. I don't mean just days that are special to you or me, or even days that an entire nation holds near and dear. I mean days that even magic itself cannot help but stand at attention. The solstice, Samhain, Beltane, the New Year. All are days where nature itself forces us to bear witness."
He took a moment to observe the sea of faces that were looking at him, completely spellbound by his speech. "Despite its significance, today is not one of those days. Christmas eve and Christmas day are wonderful holidays, and surely among our most cherished, but to magic, they are nothing but routine." He took a slow sip of his champagne. "Until now. Tonight, we will forge a new day. A new world. We will create the most significant moment this world has ever witnessed. We will be the ones to force magic to bear witness, witness to our achievements, witness to our indomitable will."
He could feel the energy shifting, fear and apprehension turning to excitement and anticipation. "Tonight, as you rest with your families, I want you to sleep soundly. For tomorrow, we will have transformed this planet, turned into a place where we can proudly raise our children."
Harry raised his glass. "A toast, to the dawn of a new age!"
There was a roar in the Great Hall as every glass was raised and they all joined in on the toast. Harry beamed as he saw his growing flock, especially after noting that almost all of the muggleborns had stayed behind instead of returning to their families. Many of the ones from his dueling club were sitting with their pureblood patrons, he even saw young David Cowens holding the hand of one Patricia Farley, with her father Lord Farley only a few seats away.
He smiled proudly as he downed his glass, returning to his seat as Emily squeezed his arm.
"Masterful as always, love."
Harry pecked her on the lips. "Ready for the fun later on?"
Emily's grin turned wicked. "Oh, you know it. It's been far too long since you've cut me from my leash."
…
It was five minutes til eleven, an hour until christmas. Not a single creature in the castle was stirring, not even a mouse. After Harry's speech, helped along with heapfuls of hearty food and warm drink, everyone had retired to their rooms, most falling into a deep sleep.
All except for the three figures on top of the Astronomy tower.
Harry was wearing a red coat with a white fur collar and matching trousers, as well as a red hat with a white furry ball at its tip.
Next to him were his two helpers, both wearing outfits that matched his own, only theirs were a dark green.
Emily's small baby bump was protruding from the costume. Lyra for her part looked the closests to one of Father Christmas' companions. The diminutive girl was bouncing around in excitement as they stood in the frigid Scottish night.
"You girls ready?" Harry asked. Emily rolled her eyes, though Harry knew the girl would always indulge Harry in his little attempt at humor. Especially when she got to be a part of something so grand.
"Yay! We're going now, daddy?"
Lyra, on the other hand, loved the whole thing. She rushed past them, hopping onto the wooden sleigh and waiting impatiently as Harry and Emily took their time to settle into it.
The sleigh was simple. There were no ornate decorations or engravings, just a plain wooden sled with more than enough room for them to stretch their feet. And also to fit the gray burlap sack that was tucked into a corner.
"Come on, come on! Let's go already!" Lyra demanded, fidgeting in her seat. The girl was quite energetic, even for a toddler. Harry wondered sometimes, what type of person Lyra would grow up to be. A girl that inherited the Black family madness, raised at Hogwarts by a submissive pet, Harry Potter and Voldemort. She was definitely going to turn out interesting.
"Alright then, I think it's time." Harry grabbed onto the reins, pulling them taut and bringing their steeds to attention.
Pulling their sleigh were nine thestrals, four rows of two led by a single proud stallion. Lyra looked on in wonderment at what to her looked like reins suspended in air.
Harry snapped the reins and the thestrals began to gallop, the sleigh slid off the end of the astronomy tower and was kept aloft by magic.
He saw some people peering out their windows as they weaved through the many towers and turrets of the castle. He waved and smiled at them in encouragement as they headed off towards their destination.
The plan required precision and tight execution. That was why it was mostly being handled by house elves and large area charms.
Harry had managed to nab himself a spot of fun, though. He would be the one to handle London.
The crisp, cold air whistled as they flew over the rapidly changing landscape. They would make it to London with time to spare, of that he was sure. They flew close to the ground, and Lyra marveled at the scenery below while Emily leaned into his side, pulling her coat tight around herself.
Down on the ground, in the pitch black night, no one would be able to see them. Not that it mattered at this late hour. If a couple of muggles saw a sleigh flying in the night sky, there wasn't much they could do about it.
They easily slipped through all of the muggle's air defense systems, not a single one of them picking up the small wooden raft with long metal skates.
Soon, Harry saw the great city peeking off in the distance.
"We're here," Emily mused, a hint of excitement in her voice.
Harry nodded as he glanced at the watch he had on, the face on the inside of his wrist instead of the back. It was five minutes until midnight, they'd made perfect time.
Finding the highest rooftop, he settled the sleigh there while they waited for the last few minutes to tick by, the last few gasps of the old world.
Down below, he could see that while subdued, the city did have some movement. Some people crisscrossing the streets, drunks stumbling about, police and soldiers patrolling here and there.
He heard the distinct sounds of an airplane flying by. That was unfortunate for the pilot, and for whoever he might hit on the ground. But the casualties in England wouldn't be too bad, not like in the countries where it was daytime. Those muggles would suffer greatly. Same with those crossing the oceans by sea or plane or those still actively fighting the war. All necessary sacrifices, a drop in the bucket when considering the alternative.
The hands on Big Ben ticked rapidly towards the end, and Harry felt himself fill with excitement. It was 11:58, then 11:59. There were forty-five seconds left… thirty…twenty…ten…five…four…three…two.
The clock struck midnight, and the sound it let off felt like a funeral bell to his ears. Harry smiled slightly, his hand sweating as the moment finally came. He snapped on the reins once more and the sled flew off the rooftop.
"Alright girls, show them that we come bearing gifts!"
As they soared through London, they reached into the bag, pulling out handfuls of small glass vials, each filled with what appeared to be plain water.
"Yay!" Lyra exclaimed in joy as she tossed the vials over the edge of the sled. The bottles went into freefall for a few seconds before one by one, they disappeared with a pop.
They continued on like this, flying over the city, raining vials down from either side of the sled as they went on a circuit of London.
Harry knew it had started working when he saw some of the people still out on the street had crumpled to the floor.
Then there was a large explosion and a fireball. An airplane had crashed into the side of a building, a large fire raging on as the top few floors began to collapse.
Throughout all of this, no one screamed, no one yelled out for help. There were no sirens, no fire crews, no aid at all. The unfortunate people in that building would die, all for the creation of Harry's utopia.
As they flew over the city, making record time, more and more small incidents piled up. A car crash here, a fall there. Harry and his helpers left a good deal of destruction in their wake, but they also left peace.
By the time they were finished, fifteen minutes had passed.
Fifteen minutes was all it had taken for the entirety of London to be put into a deep sleep. A sleep they would not be able to wake from, not until the magicals deemed it so.
All across the earth, the same story was repeating itself. As Harry had expected, the places where it was daytime suffered the most, with large scale casualties compounding on each other as all of humanity went to bed.
This had been Harry's master plan. No complex arcane magic, just simple, everyday potions and spells, and mass international cooperation to help scale them up for global use.
They'd brewed many gigantic doses of the Draught of Living Death. They'd created large arrays, based on the arithmetic properties of the Homenum Revelio spell, to locate each and every muggle on earth, no matter how remote their location. After that, it was as simple as tying a strong vanishing charm to the arrays, as well as compulsion charms on each vial.
In that way, they had managed to deliver doses of the potion to every human on the planet. Using the elves, they'd been able to dose those humans who were incapable of uncorking the vial and gulping down the potion themselves.
In fifteen minutes, Harry had stopped the muggle world from spinning.
Harry set the sleigh down on the well manicured lawn. Despite all the destruction wrought by the London Blitz, this place remained as opulent as ever. A monument to the grandeur of the British Empire.
The trio hopped off as they glanced up at the sprawling palace.
Buckingham Palace.
All across the grounds, the slumped forms of the King's Guard were strewn about, sleeping peacefully with their rifles at their side. Many had their bearskins covering their faces, while for others they'd fallen off.
"Those are some funny looking hats." Lyra giggled as they approached the entrance.
Emily knelt down, her wand falling into her sleeve. She spun in a circle as she dragged the tip over the grass.
A large ring of fire burst forth from the earth. Lyra ooed at the scene while Harry shot Emily a frustrated look.
"Seriously?" He asked.
Emily looked back at him with a mischievous grin. "I'm sorry daddy, I couldn't help it. Guess you'll have to punish me later." She said with her hands behind her back.
"Auntie's gonna get it baaaad!" Lyra giggled while Harry shook his head, a grin on his face. "You're incorrigible."
He brought his pinkies to his mouth and let out a loud whistle. The thestrals neighed, instantly galloping up into the night sky, dragging the empty sleigh behind them.
"Come on then, keep the fire away from the palace for now, at least." Harry said.
Emily laughed. "Of course, daddy."
The trio entered the palace as the fire began to rapidly consume the grounds, along with the bodies of the King's Guard.
Inside the palace, they passed by quite a few servants who were collapsed on the floor, an empty vial at their sides. Shattered cups and kettles were lying amidst small pools of tea. There were upturned metal trays, the food they had carried having spilled and made a mess all over the fine red carpeting.
Lyra seemed to want to add to the mess. A goblet, an urn, a collection of priceless china, they were all thrown onto the floor as the girl became more and more giddy.
"Auntie, pull down that chandelier!"
Emily happily obliged, flicking her wand and ripping a priceless chandelier from the ceiling. Harry cast a quick shield charm to protect them from broken glass as the chandelier crashed to the floor, breaking into a million tiny pieces.
They reached the royal wing. As they passed by a row of closed doors, Emily blasted them open, peeking in to see if anything caught her interest.
And at the fifth door, something did.
"Look what we have here, my beloved."
Harry backtracked to peer into the room she had stopped at.
Sleeping soundly in her opulent bed was a young, rather plain looking brunette.
Princess Elizabeth II.
"What about her?" Harry asked with disinterest.
Emily pouted up at him, "She's the muggles' princess. She was meant to be their ruler. Wouldn't you love to sully her?"
Harry whipped his wand and the bedsheets flew off the young woman's sleeping form. It took only a cursory glance for him to see that nothing there interested him.
"She has no appeal to me." At Emily's disappointed look, he sighed. " But you may play with her, my love, While Lyra and I go collect our prize."
Emily grinned. "Wonderful. I promise I'll be quick with her."
Harry shook his head as he took Lyra by the hand and continued onward.
Seeing them disappear from view, Emily turned to the sleeping princess.
Daddy was right in that she was rather plain, but that didn't mean Emily couldn't get off.
She'd always had a very creative mind.
She hovered over her sleeping form, a small vial in her hand. A dose of Wiggenweld potion.
Letting a few drops drip into her open mouth, Emily ran her hands down the princess' body.
Elizabeth startled awake, a hand going to her throat as the acrid taste of the potion raced through her.
"Wha-" her eyes snapped up, taking in Emily, whose hands were now riding up her nightdress. "Who are you! What are you doing in my room?!"
Any further questions were muffled by Emily's hand, which covered her mouth as the black haired girl looked down at the brown haired princess with disdain. "You dare speak to me, muggle? I think it is time I show you your new place in the world."
Meanwhile, Harry and Lyra had made it deeper into the palace, down into a section that was rarely usually under heavy guard.
The room they were in resembled a mail room, with three of the four walls covered in lock-boxes from floor to ceiling. It had only taken a snap of his fingers to open every lock, hundreds of trays full of jewelry and valuable deeds and contracts sliding open all at once.
Lyra was running around the room, throwing precious jewelry up in the air. She had on five necklaces, a ring on each finger and three tiaras.
"Can I keep it daddy?" She asked hopefully.
"Only what you can carry." Harry said with amusement.
Lyra grinned. She began to stuff her pockets full of whatever shiny piece caught her eye, as well as adding even more rings to her fingers.
Harry caught sight of what he'd come for.
A crown, made of twenty-two carat gold, with four fleur-de-lis alternating with crosses, all supporting two dipped arches that upheld an orb, which itself was topped with a cross. The crown had a purple velvet cap and was encrusted with hundreds of precious stones.
St. Edward's Crown. The original one, not the replica that had to be hastily made after the English Civil War and the rush to crown Charles II.
A crown that dated back to Edward the Confessor, a crown that would be very useful for Harry in the future.
"Well, it's time to leave dear, let's go collect your aunt." Harry said. Lyra grabbed a handful of gold wristlets and anklets before she rushed after her father.
Harry chuckled as they left the room, the orange glow of the fire raging outside highly visible through the windows. Lyra was hobbling along, weighed down heavily by her plunder.
He didn't know what he expected to find when he returned to the princess' room, but it was certainly not this.
Emily was sitting on a chair, her hand down her green trousers as she diddled her cunt.
On the bed, the girl who would be queen was quite occupied. She was on her knees with her hands tied behind her back.
There were four house elves with her on the bed, completely naked with their small cocks fully erect. One elf had his cock shoved into her mouth, his face scrunched up in concentration as Emily had clearly instructed them to fuck her as roughly as possible.
One elf was under her, needing three pillows to provide him with the height needed to piston in and out of her pussy. Another Elf was standing behind her, his cock joining the other in penetrating the princess. They seemed to have worked up a rhythm, when one elf pushed in, the other pulled out.
The final house elf was standing on her small bum, his tiny cock spearing into her ass with abandon.
Harry whistled. "Very poetic."
Emily was panting heavily as her eyes settled on Harry and Lyra. "Are we done already?"
"You can always bring her to Hogwarts. The other elves deserve a reward for all their hard work after all."
Emily giggled. "I'll certainly visit the kitchens more often if I get to see a show like this one." She looked over to Elizabeth, who's desperate, tearful eyes were looking at her with despair. "How does it feel, bitch? To know what your future holds? Quite a reversal, isn't it? To go from a pampered little monarch to breeding stock for an inferior race."
Harry wasn't exactly sure if house elves could crossbreed with humans, but he figured they'd find out soon enough, the way things were going.
The next morning, all that remained of Buckingham Palace were ashes.
…
It was the 26th of December, Boxing Day, and the day of the second meeting of the war council.
To say the mood was a complete reversal of the previous meeting would be an understatement.
"First order of business should be a name change. Can't be a war council when the war's over." A delegate from Australia said jokingly.
Laughter echoed through the room. The room was all smiles, it felt as if the cloud that had been hanging over them had lifted.
If they'd all looked at Harry with respect before, now they looked at him almost with reverence.
"That's actually a very good point." Harry said, everyone instantly quieting down, their full attention on him. "We cannot disband this group, not until we've established what this new world order will look like."
"So what, we're a ruling council?" Toshiaka Kawada, the Japanese delegate who'd proven to be quite intelligent, asked.
Harry shrugged. "In a sense…you can each deliberate with your own governments, but I think this is the best way forward. One ruling body, coordinating our efforts, at least until we've established a new normal. Otherwise, I fear that we'll see radically different approaches to dealing with the muggles, and that could only lead to trouble down the line."
Everyone nodded in agreement, thought Harry was able to notice that Brooks' was a bit stiffer than the others.
"Mr. Patel, if you could go into the official debrief?" Harry asked kamal.
Patel stood, a small sheet of paper held between his hands. He cleared his throat.
"The operation was a complete success. One hundred percent of the non-magical population are under the effects of the draught, to be awoken at our leisure. We recorded twenty million deaths worldwide, with two to three million more estimated in the coming weeks and months as more of their infrastructure fails."
Harry nodded as the man sat back down.
"I believe our most important course of action is to dismantle all of their technology, especially their weapons and their forms of generating energy. The muggles will not be awoken until we have eliminated any possible advantage they may have."
"What do you mean by dismantle?" Brooks asked.
"Destroy completely, leave absolutely no trace of their poisonous machinery."
Everyone nodded along with the idea. Everyone except for Marshall Brooks. The man was smart enough not to press the issue, but Harry could already see he had a problem on his hands.
It seemed that MACUSA might be hell bent on following the path of their muggle government.
"I suggest we do not disband our collaborative research units." Kawada said. "Destroying all that the muggles have built by wand will be a daunting task. Our research teams can create mass targeting systems to ease the process."
Harry smiled, this was a man after his own heart. "I agree completely. In fact, I hope for those international units to be made permanent. We could make heretofore unimaginable leaps in magical theory a reality."
"What's the endgame? When we do awaken the muggles?"
"They will be our subjects, our slaves, as nature always intended." Cygnus interjected firmly.
"That's all well and good, Mr. Black, but we still run into the same problem of numbers. How we will keep tabs on a population that dwarfs us?"
Everyone turned to Harry, who glanced between them in mock confusion. "What? What makes you think I have the answers?"
"Come off it Gaunt, you've surely got this planned out to the second." Brooks said, the smallest hint of hostility seeping into his tone.
Harry smiled, "You've got me." He put his hands up in defeat. "I think we can all agree that the Statute of Secrecy is no longer needed."
There were murmurs of agreement. "Well, I say we dismantle it, and we repurpose the Pillars of Creation. We weave a new spell, a spell that will be much more powerful without the need for subtlety."
Many eyes lit up in realization. "We enforce the subservience of the muggles by magic." Patel said.
Harry snapped his fingers. "Exactly. We create a global spell, a spell that makes it so that when the muggles wake up, they will never move above their station again."
A week ago, many of them would have raged on about how improbable such a spell was, about the massive effort it would take just to potentially make it work.
After what they'd just witnessed, none of them doubted Harry, not anymore.
Harry kept an eye on Brooks. When the meeting adjourned later on, the man left without saying a word to him.
He grimaced, but he would sit back for now. Let them make their bed, he would deal with them when the time came.
He had a world to shape.
…
It should have been a time of great celebration for Horatio Longfellow.
As President of MACUSA, his country's part in the great international effort had not been small. They had the third largest population of magicals on earth, and they had mobilized it all efficiently. The americans had much to be proud of.
But he wasn't feeling pride, only gripping fear and trepidation.
Marshall Brooks sat across from him, a good dozen privacy wards erected around them in Horatio's already well protected office.
"And you have proof of this?" He asked his head of intelligence.
Brooks shook his head, his face keeping that severe, no-nonsense manner that he always had. "Not a single shred. But I have a hunch, a very big one, and I've learned to trust those over the years."
Longfellow let out a short. Chortling laughter that carried no humor with it. "So you're making these accusations with absolutely no evidence to back them up? And you expect me to follow along with you?"
"You haven't worked with him, Mr. President. The way he came up with that plan, the way he directs those meetings while giving himself plausible deniability… I feel it in my heart. Gaunt wanted this from the start, who knows how long he's been pushing things this way."
Horatio put his head in his hands. Why were things always so complicated? "What do you want me to do? Renouncement on the international stage?"
"And create a global split? Gaunt is very popular, and even if we somehow managed to take our accusations to trial, I'm sure he would beat the charges. All you would do is galvanize the other nations against us."
"So what exactly do you want me to do, Brooks? Why did you even tell me all of this if you want no action taken?"
"I do want action. But we need to move subtly." Brooks looked down at the President now with a slight smirk. "Our task now is to destroy the no-maj weapons. I suggest we keep some of them, along with any research that may be useful. We need utmost secrecy, I'm talking small teams bound by an oath to magic working in underground bunkers around the clock. We build a stockpile of our own."
"You realize the backlash if anyone finds out. Even our allies would abandon us."
"They won't find out. Lord willing we will never use these weapons. But we must have them if we ever want to feel secure. Even if you don't believe what I'm saying about Gaunt, you have to admit he is quite scary. He is the most powerful wizard on earth, and he holds immense influence now over the ICW. If there was ever a man that could make himself king, it is him."
Longfellow paled.
King.
That word that repulsed him. A word that was anathema to the american spirit, magical and no-maj alike.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a trump card, just in case."
…
"Happy birthday to you! happy birthday to you!"
It was a small, intimate gathering at Peverell Manor, only the birthday girl's parents had been invited along. Douglas and Fiona McGonagall were singing along with Emily, Walburga and Lyra as they celebrated Minerva's twelfth birthday.
The birthday girl herself was of course the center of attention. She was writhing on her back on top of the table, sweat dripping down her body as Harry's massive cock pistoned in and out her sensitive cunt.
"Happy birthday dear Minerva! Happy birthday to you!"
Minerva felt her orgasm hit her just as the song ended, the embarrassment of her own parents seeing her like this not enough to dampen the pleasure she felt as her master fucked her hard.
Harry stroked into her a few more times before he grunted, depositing a heavy load of cum deep into Minerva's young quim. He fired rope after rope, so many that he was still shooting off as he pulled out, glazing Minerva's mound and lips with several shots of his thick cream.
"There it is, the birthday cake is ready. Served right out of the birthday girl herself!" Harry announced.
The girls moved, eager to enjoy such a delicious cake. Emily held back, cradling two month old Delphi in her arms.
Lyra arrived before her mother, and the young girl dove hungrily into Minerva's offering. Lyra's tongue first lapped up at the still wet streaks Harry had left on Minerva's bare lips, licking the brunette clean of her father's cum. Then she punched her tongue into her pussyhole proper, sucking greedily at the nectar contained within.
"Don't get greedy now dear." Walburga warned her daughter, who disregarded her mother's warning.
Harry glanced over at the McGonagalls, who seemed to find nothing unusual about this situation.
Douglas was your average middle aged wizard. He may have been handsome once, but the years had been rough to the man with the shaggy brown hair and the scruffy beard.
Minerva's mother on the other hand…well, she had definitely taken better care of herself. Fiona McGonagall was a tall, slender woman with long, copper curls that reached to her back. She had light green eyes and a sternness to her that his own McGonagall must have inherited.
"You wouldn't mind cleaning me up, would you Fiona?" Harry asked as he approached them.
Fiona glanced from his still hard cock up to his face. "I don't see why not, Lord Gaunt."
"Splendid." Harry presented his cock to her. He grabbed a handful of her hair, pushing his cock past her lips and into her mouth.
Fiona bobbed her head on his shaft, her throat bulging whenever she tried to take as much of him in as she could.
"Quite a lovely wife you have, Douglas."
"She is, Lord Gaunt." Douglas was smiling back at him, as if his wife din't currently have his cock halfway down her throat.
"I think I'll keep her, I'm sure I can find something for her to do. Certainly she'll be better served with me than at your home. You understand, right?"
He nodded along. "Of course Lord Gaunt! It's an honor that you would take my wife and daughter into your family. There has never been a prouder moment for the McGonagall name."
Harry smiled as he began to get rougher with Fiona, one hand still grabbing onto her hair while the other held the back of her head. He fucked her face in earnest now, reveling in the obscene sounds that came out of her throat as he raped it.
GWOCK*GWOCK*GWOCK*
"That's wonderful! In that case, I believe you've served your purpose, why don't you find a nice bog and drown yourself in it?"
His eyes lit up. "That sounds like a great idea! Thank you so much for everything, Lord Gaunt!"
"The exit's that way." Harry gestured towards the front door.
Douglas McGonagall gave him one final grin before he sprang up from the table, rushing away to find his doom.
Meanwhile, his soon to be widow was supporting her hands on his thighs as Harry's large cock violated her throat.
He needed to work on his impulse control. He really did.
He'd at first meant only to test out the crown. Then he'd meant only to sample the man's wife.
But Harry was nothing if not selfish, and he did not like sharing anything once he'd staked a claim to it.
"The crown works perfectly, daddy." Emily said, idling up to his side with their daughter sleeping soundly in her arms.
In the background, Lyra and Walburga were now both between Minerva's legs, each competing for the last few morsels of Harry's seed.
"It does," his eyes wandered over to the mantle, where the crown of Saint Edward glinted under the soft candlelight.
The crown had been crafted all the way back in 1044, at the beginning of Edward's reign, but once William the Conqueror had gotten a hold of it, he'd had one of his warlocks weave a spell into it.
A spell of obedience, of reverence.
It was a spell that would cover an entire kingdom, a kingdom that spanned both sides of the English channel at the time.
The spell had worked, but the large area it needed to cover made it weak, mild.
The subjects of the English kings had respect for their monarch, they saw them as above them in the celestial hierarchy. But the spell wasn't strong enough to enforce that devotion completely. If their lord asked them to draw up arms against their king in rebellion, or if the king levied an unpopular tax, or if they began to distrust the king for any reason, people could and would break out of the mild compulsion, even muggles.
Harry and Emily had been playing around with it.
It's first test had been a success, but they still had quite the hurdle to overcome. It was one thing to manipulate a few people within a close range of the magical artifact, but Harry needed it to work on a global scale.
The research teams and the demolition squads had been making progress fast, but it would still be another year before they'd be able to go to the pillars and rework the statute. There was still time.
There was also the issue of the Americans. Whatever it was Brooks was plotting, he would keep it close to the vest.
Not that Harry was worried.
He looked down at the woman below him, her green eyes and red hair reminding him of someone else. But they didn't look alike, not even close. It would still be a few decades before Harry would have the pleasure of meeting those eyes up close.
Harry pulled out of Fiona's mouth, "get up, bend over." He commanded.
And she complied without question.
Harry lifted the woman's dress up and vanished her undergarments, revealing her snatch, covered with a small patch of fuzzy pubic hair, and her excellently round bum. Wider and bigger than any of his current women.
"I think I'll sample this first." Harry said as he hooked his thumb into her anus, swirling the digit along the outer rim of her puckered hole.
Fiona moaned lightly, her hands planted firmly on the table as she allowed Harry to play with her backdoor.
Emily had walked away for a moment, placing Delphi in her crib before returning to her daddy's side. She wrapped her arms around Harry's back. "Let me help you with that, Daddy."
She snapped her fingers, and a translucent gel began to coat the Scottish woman's opening. Harry felt a slight chill as another dollop plopped on the tip of his cock, quickly spreading to coat his entire tool.
Harry grabbed onto Fiona's hips, using his thumbs to spread her asschecks as best he could. Harry pushed the tip of his cock against her painfully tight entrance.
"Tell me, does it make you happy? To know that you'll be joining your daughter as my slut from now on? That your main purpose in life will be to take my cock whenever I so desire?"
The woman sounded breathless. "Yes, Lord Gaunt, it makes me happier than you could even imagine!"
Harry pushed the tip in, his large head immediately stretching her anal cavity to its breaking point. There was a moment where Harry was certain it wouldn't fit, and then his head slipped by her resistance, and he was able to slowly push most of his thick log into her ass.
Minerva's mother let out a loud wail of pleasure and pain as her backdoor was filled for the very first time. Harry enjoyed the tightness of it, letting his cock slowly slither further into her bowels as Emily kissed the back of his neck.
"It's ok, daddy." She whispered seductively into his ear. "It's very valiant of you, trying to be good, trying to act noble sometimes, but we both know it's all so tiring."
Harry shuddered. This was not something he'd discussed with anyone, but Emily could read him so well. The little minx.
"You can let go, daddy. Let go of the fake morality you uphold to keep whatever shred of that old identity you still have. Let go, daddy. You know, deep down, that all you want is to rule, to lord over all those inferior to us. Stop pretending to play benevolent manipulator daddy, wouldn't it be so much better if you just…cut loose."
Something inside of him triggered them, and he began to fuck Fiona's ass hard, holding no regard for her comfort as he extracted his pleasure from her.
Emily continued cooing into his ear, her hands running up his stomach. "There's no need daddy. We both know it's all bullshit. Saving the magical world, creating a utopia… what you really want is to enslave the earth, to take what you want from it. You're selfish, daddy… and I love that so much."
Harry grunted, his cock throbbing as he pounded Fiona into the table. He could hear the woman's daughter whimpering as the Black girls were still going to town on her, and he couldn't help but revel in Emily's words. He'd been trying to find a balance, a balance between his depravity and the duty he felt to shepherd the world into a new era, an era where everyone could be happy and safe.
He pulled out of Fiona's ass with a pop, immediately moving south and plunging into her waiting cunt.
Fuck balance.
Harry was no longer that boy who'd had a thing for saving people. He wasn't even the same person he'd been when he first came back in time. He was a powerful wizard, the most powerful of wizards, and as the older woman shuddered under him and he felt his balls churning, he knew that Emily had influenced him more than he had previously thought.
He blew his load inside of the redhead woman, pulling his cock out to proudly observe the trickle of seed that began to leak out of her pussy. Emily stroked him, keeping him hard, as Lyra ran over to collect his gift from the elder McGonagall.
Harry knew now that whatever thread of morality he still held had been severed. He was no longer bound by the memory of the boy he'd once been.
It was freeing.