Harry crouched over, trying to recover his breath after finally having broken through the last of the wards. He had been at it for over 3 weeks—just after he had come back to Grimmauld Place, to find it in ruins, with Ron's and Hermione's severed heads hanging from the door frame.
He can still remember their faces, frozen in a rictus of horror, eye sockets empty and glaring. After ten years of fighting, he now had no one left—Ginny and the Weasleys had been lost when Harry had led the failed uprising of Hogwarts, along with just about all the rest of the resistance to Voldemort. Ron and Hermione had been the only ones to escape with him, hiding in the one last passageway to Hogsmeade that Voldemort didn't know about.
For days, Harry would sit in solitude, hidden in the cave just outside Hogsmeade where Sirius had met them in his fourth year. He spent it in almost complete silence, save for the drip-drip-dripping of condensation from the ceiling. Emotions battled through his mind, fury warring with hate, fear, and sorrow, until finally it had resolved itself into a quiet rage seething just beneath a surface of resolution. At that moment, alone and surrounded by darkness in both body and mind, he came to a decision.
This war was no longer about right and wrong, or good and evil. It was now about vengeance.
And Harry would have his.
He crept along the tree line until he came across the vast open expanse between the forest and Malfoy Manor. He skulked silently at the edge, blending in easily with his invisibility cloak. There was some sort of gathering of Death Eaters here—about twenty stood in a half circle, with one pacing back and forth as though he were lecturing them. Harry could hear the voice—a familiar high-pitched whine he knew back from his school days. Malfoy.
Rage roared through his head, pushing him to raise his wand. The wording to a high-powered blasting curse was on his lips, but he held back as an idea came to mind. He stepped out of the forest, being careful to not make a sound, carefully stalking towards the gathering without making a sound. Harry was twenty feet away when he tuned into the lecture—"Morese, you will remember to save the women for after we hit the town this time, won't you?"—in a tone Malfoy must have thought was threatening, but what sounded like a bestial plea to Harry's ears.
Harry readied his wand—it would be visible for just a moment, when he cast the spell, but the spell itself wouldn't be, and if he did it right... " Diffindo," he murmured.
Malfoy stopped mid-rant as he stared at his wand arm, raised in front of his face. The sleeve was cut, but as he opened his mouth, the bottom half of his robes slid down his legs just above the knee, revealing scrawny, pale-white, hairless legs. Malfoy tried to draw his wand, his face flushed in fury in response to several snickers from his 'class.'
The key word being tried. As he thrust his arm towards the pocket with his wand, his arm—severed a few inches below the elbow—flew off with a spurt of blood. Malfoy shrieked in surprise, stumbling back—except, his legs wouldn't obey. He fell to the ground, his legs stuck with a wordless sticking charm, cut from just above the knee. Malfoy flailed and sobbed, his class standing paralyzed from a mixture of shock, disbelief and fear. Harry threw off his cloak, drawing attention from the group of death eater trainees, pointed his wand at the middle of their half-circle, and yelled, "EXPULSO!"
Harry himself was thrown from his feet, surprised at the effects of his spell. He landed on his back, his breath knocked from him, dirt and a fine mist of blood spraying almost the entire backyard. As the dust settled, he looked up, noting the massive crater where previously twenty young death eaters in training had been staring in stupefied surprise at his appearance. He furtively glanced back at the house, ignoring the scattered remains, but there was no activity from the house. He pulled his invisibility cloak on, muttering a "Scourgify," to clear it of the pinkish dust that had accumulated from the blast, and waited. After 5 minutes, no one had exited the manor. Harry sidled over to Malfoy, who had lapsed into shock from the blood loss, and cauterized his wounds with a Flagrante curse before vanishing his missing limbs. Harry wanted Malfoy alive.
He wandered from room to room in the manor, breaking everything he could and burning a simple lightning bolt into every wall. It was petty, but Harry wanted them to start fearing him. It was about time that they started looking over their shoulder for Harry Potter.
He made his way through the second floor and climbed the stairs to the third, where he was sure the master bedroom was. He expected it to be unoccupied, with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy having been killed some seven years ago. He was surprised, therefor, when he saw the rising and falling of a woman's chest through the mesh bed curtains, oblivious to the racket that had ensued outside. Harry frowned, looking around—was this a trap of some sort? He sneaked to the window—it looked out over the devastation he had wracked. He could hear the cawing of a few crows as they started to feed on the various entrails spread out over the neatly manicured lawn; the explosion must have been deafening even up here.
With wand raised, he approached the bed slowly, nudging apart the curtains after scanning them for curses—he found none. A woman in her early twenties slept deeply, her straight long black hair spread over her pillow. It contrasted with her milky-white complexion and pale but luscious lips, her attractively small nose and thin, dark eyebrows. Harry felt something stirring in him that he hadn't felt in years, but he pushed it down with a flash of rage. He saw a mug on the bedside table, with what looked like the remnants of a potion in it. Harry picked it up and sniffed—he was no qiz at potions, but this was one he had plenty of experience with. Dreamless sleep. She'd be out until morning.
He recognized this girl, now—it must have been Astoria Greengrass. Harry had heard that she'd married Draco. A wicked thought surged through his mind—he had intended to kill Malfoy, but now he had an even better idea. He yanked the covers off of her, revealing a petite though well filled out body. His eyes traced from her respectable breasts covered in a skimpy nightgown, to her taught stomach exposed as her dress had bunched up, to the round of her hips and her long legs. This was the body of a woman who kept herself fit, and it showed by firmness in her thighs and lack of almost any body fat.
Harry raised his wand—his wand, damn it—and cast a diagnostic charm on her. She wasn't pregnant, which made Harry smirk. He'd fix that. " Rendere Ricitiva," he muttered, and a small glow grew where her womb was, then faded.
Harry negligently cast a locking charm on the door, then began to disrobe. He pulled off his cloak, his shirt and shorts, and finally his underwear, his member standing at attention. Harry smirked and cast another charm—"Penepompa!"—and watched as he grew to about nine inches, and almost as thick around as the woman's dainty wrist. Harry climbed onto the bed, on his hands and knees over Astoria, her sleep uninterrupted. He muttered another spell and her clothes disappeared, revealing small pink nipples and a bald pussy. Harry put his wand on the bedside table, and lowered his face until his mouth was just over hers. Their lips met, and Harry forced his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. After a minute, he pulled back, gasping, her pouting lips parted ever so slightly.
Harry grabbed her right tit and began kneading it, first gently and then roughly, pinching the nipple, seeing if he could get a reaction. A slight furrowing of her brow and downturn of her lips was all the reaction he got. He sat on her stomach and played with her tits, squeezing them, leaving red marks he was sure would turn into bruises by the time she woke up. Harry pinched and yanked her nipples until a moan escaped her mouth. She was cringing from the abuse, but as he expected, didn't show any other signs of consciousness.
Harry gave a last slap that sent her tits jiggling, and slid down her body until he was kneeling over her knees, her pussy glistening slightly. In spite of his rough treatment, or maybe because of it, she was getting turned on! Harry rubbed her with his hand, then slowly stuck his finger in. It was still pretty tight, despite her being married for a while. But then, she had been married to Malfoy, so...
He was tired of fooling around. Harry grabbed his wand and cast a lubricating charm on Astoria, then spread her legs as wide as he could and positioned himself over her prone form. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and pushed the head of his cock in. He shuddered in pleasure, and quickly forced himself all the way in. He slammed into her, pushing her up the bed until her head banged against the headboard. Harry smirked and began thrusting in and out, with bruising force.
At first Astoria didn't react at all, but as Harry pounded in and out for a good half minute, he could hear her moaning—quietly at first, and then steadily louder as her body reacted in her slumber. He bent forward, forcing her leg down to her chest with surprising ease, and began mauling her tits, taking one nipple and then another between her teeth. She began to arch her back in response, despite being unconscious, her moans echoing in the room, until she came with stunning force. She practically convulsed on the bed, with Harry never letting up; she collapsed, panting, and Harry kept going.
Finally, he felt himself coming close to the end, and plunged as deep as he could. He came more than he could ever remember at one time, spurting deep into her womb, ensuring that she'd be having his kid. He lay on her for a few minutes, catching his breath, and then grabbed his wand to check. He cast the same diagnostic spell her had earlier, and smirked when it came back positive. Now, he could have some fun.
He gathered three or four pillows and stacked them next to Astoria; then, he rolled her onto them, so that she was bent over at the waist, her beautiful ass exposed. He slapped first one cheek then the other, leaving welts that would last for a few days. Harry then positioned himself at her swollen pussy, and thrust in again, savoring the tight warmth. He began thrusting, slowly, until she was moaning again; it must have been a while since she had really enjoyed herself, if she was reacting this much in her sleep! Harry paused and leaned over her, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back. He started thrusting again, yanking her hair with every jab inside her. Then he leaned over and thrust hard into her as he abused her tits with his hands. Astoria was screaming in pain and pleasure—more pleasure, he was sure—and she came almost at the same time he did.
Harry was fairly spent after two huge orgasms, so he took his wand and cast a replenishing spell on him. Even if it knocked him out for a day or so, it would be worth it. Harry had one more thing he wanted to do.
Still bent over the pillows, Harry already had Astoria in the position he wanted. He spread her ass and looked at her asshole, puckered close and not ready at all for him. His cock was still wet from before, though, and he forced the head in against her. He pushed it in with a faint pop, and then spread her ass cheeks as wide as he could. Harry could see Astoria's jaw tightening in reaction to the pain. He leaned over and thrust with all his might, shoving his entire cock deep into her ass. She actually cried out loud at the intrusion, and a few tears leaked from her eyes. Harry laughed and began plunging himself in and out as hard as he could, ignore the little pain he was feeling from her not being ready. He rode her raw, until he could actually see some blood when he pulled his cock out. Then he got up, moved to the head of the bed, and shoved himself at her mouth.
She tried to pull away, even in her sleep, but Harry pushed her head onto his cock and shoved himself in until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged, and Harry pulled back a little before forcing his cock into her throat. He kept pushing until her nose was pressed against his pelvis, and her face was turning blue from lack of oxygen, and he pulled out to a loud gasp from Astoria. He waited a moment while she unconsciously caught her breath. Then he shoved himself into her throat again, and began fucking her face violently. He paused every minute or so so that he could make sure she was still breathing, and when he was close, Harry pulled back until just the head was in her mouth, and filled her mouth with his cum.
After he came, Harry wanted to leave one last visible memento so that they would know who was responsible. He stared at Astoria's abused ass, and grabbed his wand. He conjured a lightning bolt-shaped piece of metal and cast the Flagrante curse on it, and then levitated it until it was over the small of her back. He pushed it down and waited a few seconds for it to imprint itself on her, and then cast a quick curse that would keep it from being removed by medical means.
Harry took one last look at the violated form of Astoria Malfoy as he left her bedroom, then he sidled downstairs and out the back door to the backyard where he left Malfoy. He checked to make sure he was still breathing—Harry wanted to make sure that whenever he saw that kid, he would remember.