Chapter Sixty Five
"Are we really doing this? I kinda thought you were having us on." Dean said, wiping off the Floo powder that sooted his clothes. He looked round at the old living room they stood in. "Lovely." Dean said sarcastically."
Harry grinned. The living room was ugly. It was curtains all the way down — ugly curtains, sofas with ugly curtain-style patterns, and paintings of women with ugly dresses that hung like curtains. "Really. A lads trip to the continent."
"Foreign babes?" Ron said.
"No Hermione?" Neville said hopefully.
"Just the guys, except maybe for our tour guides." Harry paused. He needed a compagne or two to attend the court, after all, and Apolline and Fleur wouldn't want to miss it. "And one other."
"Who?" Ron said suspiciously.
Harry grinned. "Can't have a lads trip without the ultimate lad, the original."
CLANG-CLANG. Pans rung out deafeningly over the footsteps in the corridor.
"Woof-woof, bitches!" Sirius Black stood in the corridor, a frying pan in each hand.
"Gentlemen, my godfather."
"Oh, shit." The words slipped out of Seamus' mouth.
Sirius winked. "You mean, oh, merde. Cos we're going to France, motherfuckers."
"Sirius, it was meant to be a surprise."
"We're going to France?" Neville said eagerly.
"Not just France." Harry said teasingly.
Sirius howled at the ceiling, beating his pans together. "To the court of the Veela, to invade, to colonise! Christopher Cockus!"
"A surprise, Sirius." Harry rolled his eyes.
"Are you serious?" Dean stuttered.
"No, don't ask that—"
"No, I am!" Sirius roared with laughter.
Harry face palmed.
Neville was trembling. "Like a Veela court with like real Veela? Are we going to…you know?"
Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. "Time to get your wand wet, kid."
"Oh, Merlin, it's happening." Neville shook.
Harry clapped a hand to the boy's shoulder. "Relax, Nev, you'll be fine." He shot a warning look at his godfather. "We don't know what the court will be like, but we'll be supportive and together, won't we, guys?"
The other boys didn't respond — Ron stared up at the ceiling, Dean combed his hair in the mirror, while Seamus made the sign of the cross on his body.
"Are you even religious, Seamus?" Harry frowned.
The boy scowled at him. "I'm Irish, lad, we all believe…at some point or other."
"I think I've just found God, actually." Ron muttered.
"Merlin, you bunch of Hufflepuffs." Sirius shook his head. "It's alright, lads, Uncle Sirius is here to teach you how to put your baguette in her oven."
"Please tell me everything." Neville begged.
Sirius held out a frying pan. "First, protein, boys. Every orgy starts with a full stomach."
Harry sighed. "Sirius, we're just going there to talk, there's no indication it'll be an orgy."
Sirius scoffed. "Harry, my boy, it's the Veela Court — they're all freaky eager sluts. They have more orgies than hot meals. Everyone knows that."
"It's true." Ron nodded.
"That's why I'm bringing a bag of supplies." His godfather pointed to a black holdall bag. "My fuckbag — I bring it to every orgy."
Mei Chang shuddered in his mind. "Oh, no, there's more of them."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no reply to that. "Let's just…get some food."
Over a gargantuan pan of scrambled eggs, Sirius gave them a barrage of advice, half of it ridiculous, the other half nonsense, but all of it was devoured by Harry's friends. Harry just surreptitiously poked around Grimmauld Place — it'd be much easier if he could find the locket Kreacher had stashed away here, instead of infiltrating the place in the past.
"Did you really have to get rid of your house elf, Sirius?" Harry called, his head in a dusty cupboard.
"Pssh, demented little thing gave me the creeps." Sirius shuddered. "Caught me polishing my broomstick once and I could never look at him after that. Always stay away from crazy and certainly never stick your dick in it. Nev, are you writing this down?"
"Yes, sir." Neville nodded seriously.
"Don't call me sir," Sirius frowned. "Actually, do, I quite like it. Now, remember, the only French you'll need is Voulez-vous coucher avec moi."
"What does that mean?" Ron asked.
"That doesn't matter — but it works ten out of ten times." Sirius said sagely.
"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi." The boys repeated faithfully.
Not for the first time, Harry considered he may have made a mistake.
"Now," Sirius pointed a spatula at each of them. "You've got the lingo, you've got your wands, that's two out of three."
"What's the last thing?" Dean said around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
Sirius heaved a satchel onto the kitchen table. From it, he floated a stack of colorful cologne bottles. "The ladies want a dirty dog, but they don't want them to smell like a dirty dog, you get me?"
"Right!" Neville's eyes grew wide. Harry found himself a little jealous — Nev had a new hero.
Sirius grabbed a bottle. "Two sprays on the neck, one on the cock."
"Jesus." Harry was getting a headache. Why hadn't he just gone to the Veela court alone? At least they were meeting Apolline and Fleur at the court — they weren't being subjected to this.
Seamus sniffed his armpits. "Bit manky."
Sirius held a cologne bottle up like it was holy water. "Remember, boys, this is the most important step. No cologne, you go home alone."
"Fuck's sake, Nev, you don't need to write this down." Harry exclaimed.
"I'm just making sure I remember it!"
"Yeah, Harry, we don't all have Veela experience." Ron said firmly.
Sirius was in his element, placing down bottles of beer in front of each of them. "A bit of pre-drinking to loosen you up. Ron, don't tell your mother."
"No chance."
"And remember, two sprays, at least. I remember James and the boys, we used to say the same things." Sirius' eyes brightened, his hand on his heart. "No splash, no gash."
Harry felt distinctly nauseous. "Sirius, please—"
His godfather jabbed his spatula aggressively. "Hey, who's the dogfather here? This old dog has bedded plenty a lady and trust me, boys, it all starts with a sniff." He cocked his head, remembering something. "No spray, no lay!"
"Brilliant." Dean shook his head in admiration.
"And boys," Sirius clapped his hand to his head, remembering something. "Don't do a Viktor Krum."
"I'm going to regret asking." Harry rubbed his eyes. "What's a Viktor Krum?"
"Don't catch the snitch too early." Sirius said. When the boys looked at him, bewildered, he rolled his eyes. "Don't cum too quick — don't be a premature ejaculator. Think of Snivelly Snape, that's what I do — works like a charm."
"Oh, God. Can we go now?" Harry begged.
Sirius clapped his hands together. "Good shout, Harry — a woman's like a pot of pasta — you arrive a little late and she's simmering nicely, but you arrive too late and they're boiling over."
Harry elbowed Neville. "You don't need to write that down. And you don't need your parchment, either."
"But what if I don't remember it?"
"Just use that nice smile of yours." Seamus sniggered.
The Portkey was a lady's glove. "You won't need to glove your cock but don't forget to charm yourself," Sirius said suddenly, as they all put a hand on the satin glove. "Gold diggers will make your Longbottom into a long face, Nev."
"Are you sure I can't bring my quill and parchment?" Neville said miserably.
"And stick together, be supportive." Sirius thumped the boy's back. "Bros before hoes and all that. Misters before sisters."
Harry rolled his eyes as he felt a pull at his navel — he half-wished it would pull him into the ground and emerge him a day later, when all of this was over.
But when they appeared in the Veela court, seeing his two beautiful girls was worth it.
Two bright suns in matching white off-shoulder dresses with flouncy ruffles around their bust and upper arms — elegant, but tightly tracing the contours of their body.
Harry exchanged cheek kisses with them both as the boys stood awkwardly.
"First time ever she has wanted to match with me." Apolline smirked.
"I simply never wanted to outdo you, Mama." Fleur said, tossing her hair. "Bonjour, all of you."
"Hi." Neville squeaked.
Harry had forgotten to tell Sirius that the two Veela were with him. "Uh, Sirius, these are, well, Fleur's with me and—"
Sirius looked at him with wide glistening eyes. His godfather blinked repeatedly and then wiped at his eyes. "So proud of you." The man murmured into his ear. He straightened up.
"Say no more, Harry. Ah," Sirius bent over to kiss Apolline's hand. "Mademoiselle, I thought you were sisters at first."
"Better to try your luck inside, Monsieur Black." Apolline pushed him away, laughing.
Sirius shrugged and elbowed Ron. "Don't worry, lads. Plenty more snitches in the sky. Still, can I escort you up the path?" He held out an elbow for Fleur's mother.
"Oui."
Sirius craned his head around and whispered to the watching boys. "Pretend to be a gentlemen and then boom! Give 'em a taste of the bad boy."
Fleur watched with amusement. "I did not expect ze 'ole of Hogwarts. Are you testing her 'ospitality?"
"Playing some games to return the favour." Harry admitted.
Sirius was still giving advice. "Stop sweating, Neville."
"It's hot!"
"Remember what I said — if you stink, you get no pink!"
"Merlin." Harry murmured.
Fleur giggled as they walked up the path. "Zis rule does not apply to you, 'Arry." She teased. "I prefer it when you don't shower — ze scent of a man."
The boys were stumbling with every second step, their mouths open and eyes wide.
"Oh, Granny." Neville's legs buckled as a naked blonde cartwheeled between two lemon trees. Seamus and Dean had to hold him up under each shoulder.
Ron was grinning widely, holding a nose that was somehow bleeding. Harry was just glad the boys were wearing black jeans.
"Strength, lads." Sirius said harshly, heaving his holdall on his shoulder like a soldier leaving to war. "They are just holsters for your wand!"
"I see where you get your charm, 'Arry." Apolline mused.
Ron tapped on his shoulder. "Harry, are you like, you know, with Fleur's mom?" He whispered.
"Ron!" Harry said, appalled. Fleur was right next to him.
"Non, comme c'est ridicule!" Fleur gasped.
"I'm so sorry!" Ron gaped.
"Only if I 'ave an 'eadache." The Veela smirked. Harry snorted and tugged his mischievous wench ahead.
His friends fell into the same traps he had — admiring statues that turned out to be Veela, almost falling into the pools of naked girls, sweating buckets. Ahead, the temple steps waited. Harry found himself quite disappointed that he couldn't see the boys' reaction to the Pussy Monument that had stood there fifteen-ish years before.
Neville had to be dragged up the steps, his knees limp. Sofia awaited them at the top in an outfit which was half-lingerie, half-harness, straps crisscrossing her body and emphasizing her curves.
Thankfully, she wasn't sitting on a woman's tongue like last time — Neville would have passed out.
To her credit, her smile didn't drop when she saw the entourage he'd brought with him.
"Harry." Two kisses on either cheek. "Welcome, all of you. Please know that you have the full hospitality of my people." The Princess smiled. She snapped her fingers and Veela came out of nowhere in the dozens. They rose, topless, out of a pool, shaking droplets and tits at the same time.
They twirled down the gauzy curtains like acrobats, walking like ballerinas. They stepped from behind the columns, giggling, pointing, winking. One redhead even crawled.
"Hallelujah." Seamus muttered.
"Please don't let me Neville this." Neville said under his breath.
Ron could say nothing at all. The boys were jerked down onto sofas, plied with wine, surrounded by teasing flesh. A curvy blonde had a platter of cold cuts charmed to her back as she crawled back and forth.
Even Sirius seemed overwhelmed.
"Perhaps we can take a walk while your guests enjoy themselves." Sofia suggested to him. Fleur's grip tightened on his arm, but she let go when her mother said something Harry didn't catch.
Down the temple steps, Harry broke the silence. "You'll forgive me, I hope, for my uninvited plus-ones."
Sofia waved him away — she seemed nervous. "My girls go mad when they aren't allowed to feed — do not worry."
"I thought I might need some backup." Harry stopped suddenly. "In case you were playing games again."
Sofia flinched. "Oh."
"Yes, oh." He crossed his arms. "I did my research, spoke to some Veela — they said that the mermaid's island is not as important to you or your people as you led me to believe."
A flush crept across her cheeks. "I may have misled you just a little."
"I don't like being lied to." He said seriously.
Her eyes were defiant. "It isn't that we don't want the island — we do. But it is more because the island holds something we want very much. An object, an artifact — a staff of great power."
She pointed at the statue he'd seen of Elutheratan, the male Veela that Apolline had spoken of — he was naked, holding his erect cock with one hand.
"See his other hand, by his side?" She said. "The curl of his fingers? There should be a staff held there, his staff. When we were driven from our home, it was taken from us — we could retrieve only the statue." The beautiful woman's purple eyes dimmed.
"What does it do?"
Sofia sighed wistfully. "The power over our Allure. The power to deaden its effects completely or the power to strengthen it. It was how he ruled over us."
"Over all Veela?" Harry smiled thinly. "I can see why you'd want it."
Sofia blinked at him under long eyelashes. "I will make no apologies for it. It would make me Queen of the Veela, not just this coven, but every coven. We would come together, unite, because we would be able to live our lives freely, finally. To integrate into societies without accidentally seducing men, stealing husbands, ruining families, angering the weak."
Harry paused. "Or it would make you able to control men with even greater ease."
Sofia smiled at him and cupped his cheek with her soft hand — he resisted the urge to lean into her touch. "True, also. But, Harry Potter, such a power would be beneficial should you want our help against the Dark Lord, no?"
"Hmm." He hesitated. He wanted to believe her — she seemed honest. But maybe he just wanted to believe her, because she was devastatingly gorgeous. Just because he could resist the Allure somewhat didn't mean he was immune — her hair of white gold seemed to shimmer in the sun, her purple eyes deep and soulful.
There was no wind but her dress swayed, giving fleeting glimpses of long, bare, shapely legs. Intoxicated, he tried to look away, but her hand stayed his chin.
"I want a good relationship with you, Harry. The Dark Lord would not be so understanding of our ways, or forgiving of my little lies."
"Why did you lie?"
"You can imagine, surely — that staff in the wrong hands would destroy us. The Veela would once again dance to a man's command."
Harry pursed his lips — that made sense. "Why did you invite me again?"
"Because," Her hand traced his chest, in the same way her mother had once. "We still trust you to get it for us." Her smile was soft. "I see now why you hesitated — you don't want to spill the blood. A noble man — I had forgotten that they still exist."
She caressed his lips with her thumb. "We still want the staff. And the reward is still the same." She pushed him back and posed for his hungry gaze, adjusting the hems of her stockings. Her thigh bulged a little from her stocking tops.
"You?" He said, throat dry. "Can I trust you to make good on that? I want a good relationship too — for when the day comes that you have to choose between me and Voldemort."
She pouted. "I can see how your trust in us — in me — might have broken. So perhaps, we need some payment in advance?" She tossed her head back — it was like she was in slow motion, her Allure so powerful.
Harry liked the sound of that — he just needed to fuck her once to bond her, to make her his. And once he had her, her Veela underlings would surely be easy pickings.
If he could get her without going through the pain of stealing whatever staff this was, all the better.
"I'm listening."
His faux-nonchalance was undermined when she slipped a hand through his robes and took a firm hold of his hard cock. "What do we Veela do in our courts, Harry?"
He swallowed. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do." Her eyebrow raised, her breath hot on his face. "Everybody knows."
The answer Sirius would give was blaring in his mind, but his godfather was prone to spouting bullshit.
"Orgies, Harry." Sofia teased. "It's not just a stereotype — women have needs too and," She held her hand to her chest in mock despair. "With no men around, what can we do?"
She took his hand. "Come, I will pick a select few for you to enjoy and when you are done, you will enjoy me."
Harry stuttered. He swallowed, feeling his vision tunnel in. "Seriously?"
"Whatever it takes for you to trust me. Whatever it takes to get the staff." She placed his hand firmly on her asscheek, letting him feel its plumpness, its soft tenderness.
Then she walked ahead, climbing the temple steps, letting him take in the flex and jiggle of her ass with each step she took above him, how her underwear disappeared into the crevice between her bouncing buttocks.
"I, uh, I'd be happy with just you."
Sofia gave him a knowing smirk. "Royalty involves sacrifices, Lord Potter — and one of them is sharing the enormous cock of the powerful wizard. This is how the power stays in check — trust me, I'm doing you a favour. Don't worry — when you're ready, I'll be waiting, Pepperup Potion in hand."
She gave him a tender kiss as he reached the temple's top. "We'll have all night."
Together, they surveyed the gathering. Ron's school tie was wrapped around his forehead. Sirius's face was covered in melted chocolate. Neville had a black eye and a big smile.
Apolline and Fleur were holding back tears of laughter.
Just what had happened here? The temple top fell silent, Veela and all, guilty children whose parents had come home.
"Perhaps…" Sofia said slowly. "We should arrange some private pleasures down below for your friends to enjoy themselves."
###
Fleur's levity had disappeared quickly when Harry had explained to her the deal that he'd made with the Princess.
Fucking Princess whore.
The woman and her entourage had been making barbed comments ever since they'd came, just as they always had, reminding Fleur that she was only partly Veela, that she wasn't raised in the court or any coven.
"You'll be okay, Fleur, won't you?" Sofia had worried. "Feeling the full effects of our Allure?"
"I love your dresses." The redhead had said earnestly. "It's so adorable how you two both look the part."
She regretted ever introducing Harry to the woman. It was a shame, she thought, that a man like Harry could not be hidden away in their chateau — she was certain Mama and Marie and her could keep him happy for the rest of his life.
Even Gabrielle, when she was of age.
That thought made her irritated — there was no shortage of competition for Harry's time. Certainly not this day — the Princess had dismissed the majority of the Veela and allowed Harry's friends to chase after the eligible companions.
Even from up here, they could hear the peals of laughter and shrieks and distantly, Sirius Black's distinct bark.
All that remained were the ones the Princess had chosen for Harry's enjoyment. A blonde, a redhead, a lilac-haired beauty, a girl with caramel skin and caramel highlights in her black hair, and a gothic-looking pale beauty with the dark green hair dye who had Harry quite entranced.
They danced for his enjoyment, if it could be called dancing. Pressing themselves together, rubbing, kissing.
The blonde had asked them if they wanted to join in. "It'd so great to see you try to fit in." She giggled. Fleur had seethed.
On the other side of Harry, Apolline stiffened as they produced bottles of oil to pour on each other. Fleur was glad Mama wasn't dealing with it well, either.
Fleur reached for Harry's dick and found her mother's hand already there. "We could pleasure you more than zis group of amateurs, 'Arry." Fleur murmured.
Apolline snapped her head around to glare at her. She whispered furiously over the sound of the slow music. "He needs their strength and power, you selfish little girl!"
Fleur flinched at the reminder. The cruelest of fates — that her love was forced to share himself in order to survive…and that to prove her love, to love him best, she had to dedicate herself to that end.
You can do this.
She pulled his cock out into the open, enjoying the sharp intakes of breath from the dancing Veela.
That's right, whores. He will ruin you and you will thank him for it.
Fleur made a show of dribbling saliva onto his cock and then stretching her mouth wide to swallow his cockhead. If this had to happen, if Harry had to fuck these undeserving sluts, then at least he would do it with her lipstick marked around his shaft.
She gurgled, choked but throated him down to the base, taking triumph in his pleased sighs.
At least they would see what a mere part-Veela could do before Harry fucked their brains into mush.
She could hear her mother's whispers even from her place in his lap. "Don't bond them when you take them, Master. The Princess, she'll be able to sense your magic envelop them, I believe, and it will scare her away. Wait until you get to her before you begin — she will be the first domino, oui?"
Harry grunted an acknowledgment, though he didn't seem pleased, his hand pushing Fleur roughly down as the Veela oiled themselves up for his enjoyment, their skin gleaming from the candlelight.
Fleur tried desperately to work a load from his balls, bobbing eagerly. What a jab to the Princess's eye it would be if she could see Fleur glazed in his seed before any of her chosen minions.
But just as Harry was getting close, rolling his hips, groaning in that way he did, he wrenched her from his shaft.
Without thinking, Fleur let out a keening wail as the throbbing cock lanced precum, trying to reach for it even as she was pushed away.
Cold and cruel laughter washed away her lust.
"Aww, the kitten doesn't get to play." The blonde teased as all five of them stalked toward Harry.
"It's okay," The redhead smirked at her, before Harry disappeared under the mass of flesh. "If you're lucky, we'll save you a drop of milk."
###
One foot in front of the other. Neville begged his clumsy feet to behave as he was led by the hand by one of the most beautiful creatures he'd ever seen. She had hair like honey.
The boys had been presented with a line of beautiful Veela — some jiggled their breasts, some bent over and flashed hints of pink, while others just begged to be fucked. Neville had ignored them all for the large airy greenhouse at the back of the gardens.
He'd stared with awe at the rare plants within — plants and vines and fragrant things, bees buzzing between them. Inside, he'd been attracted to the girl with tan skin, dressed in a flowery skirt and a denim blouse, repotting a Fanged Geranium.
She'd said nothing and neither had he, just taking his hand as he bumbled up to her.
"W-where are we going?"
She smiled over her shoulder and led him out of the greenhouse and into a beach hut.
Neville squeaked when he was pushed back on the bed, all too aware of his bulging erection.
"You don't need to be nervous." The girl said. It was easy for her to say, crawling between his legs and resting an elbow on his stomach.
Neville swallowed, thinking through all the advice Sirius had given him. "Uh, well, I mean…Voulez-vous…voulez-vous coucher avec moi?"
The girl giggled, hand over her mouth. "Oui — I thought zat was obvious."
"Oh, I d-don't really know what means. I've, well, never been with a woman." He said quietly.
"That's okay." She said, caressing his chest. "You will have a good first time, je le promets. We'll take it slow, oui?"
Neville's heart was going to beat its way out of his ribcage. "I…maybe we can just talk for a bit?" He winced as soon as he'd said it. Sirius was right — he was a wet wipe.
"D'accord." The girl said, sitting up. "What do you want to talk about?" She pulled her blouse clean off, revealing a perfect set of perky tits.
Her nipples are hard. The thought wouldn't leave his mind. That was a good sign, right?
"I-uh, guh, you—" He couldn't form a word, try as he might. The girl sat between his legs, looking at him with bemusement. Her hand was over the bulge in his trousers, squeezing, stroking.
Don't Neville this, don't Neville this.
"So, um, do all Veela know each other? D-do you know Fleur?"
The girl bit her lip. "Pardon, I don't theenk I can talk to you."
Dread formed like a stone in his stomach. He'd fucked this up — of course he had. "N-no?"
"Non," She pouted, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out. "I am going to 'ave my mouth full." With that, she devoured his cock in between her dark red lips.
Merlin, Neville could feel it all — the bumps on her tongue, the sides of her hot wet mouth, the ridges of her throat.
"Gah! N-no—" He came immediately, clutching the sheets as he spurted ropes down her throat. Every jerk of his hips felt like failure, the point of no return fading behind him. The girl purred and swallowed, but her arousing moans and her tongue wrapping around his shaft couldn't stop thinking the dark thoughts creeping in.
He'd Neville'd it, he thought miserably. He'd done a Viktor Krum. "I'm sorry." He said quietly.
The sounds of the rest of the Veela court were loud — laughing, giggling, moaning. A woman screamed in pleasure.
The other guys weren't having this issue. Harry wouldn't have cum instantly. Sirius wouldn't have.
The honey-haired Veela licked her lips as she pulled away. "Do not be sorry. We have all night, non?"
We have all night.
The words wrapped around his brain like ivy.
One night to make this right. One shot. One opportunity.
His cock had become sad and limp. The girl stroked him, bored.
Neville clenched his fist. What would Harry do? Harry wouldn't even need his dick — he'd just wink and the girl would probably orgasm.
Neville couldn't wink, but maybe he could do something else…
"I really want to show you a good time." He said slowly.
"I am 'aving a good—"
"I can use my mouth on you?" He offered.
She looked at him doubtfully. "Zat is okay, really—"
Harry wouldn't ask, Nev realized. Neville growled and sat up, taking the Veela by the shoulders to pull her up the bed.
"Aiee!" She squealed as he parted her legs. He couldn't quite bring himself to tear off her skirt — what would she wear afterward? But he unzipped the slit on the side and pulled it off her ankles.
There — his target. Sirius had called it Pandora's filthy box. Seamus told him that if he did a good job, it would look like strawberries and cream. Harry said that Neville should aim to make it look like his cauldron concoctions in Snape's class — dribbling over the sides, steam pouring up and a lot of screaming in the background.
But to Neville, it didn't look like any of that. It looked like a flower petal, beautiful and waiting to unfurl.
A very particular flower.
"The Monarda, endemic to Native America." He murmured. Like the flower, her pussy was a blooming pink. "Monarda fistulosa, or the wild bergamot, to say its common name."
She looked at him like he was mad. "What are you—"
He drew his face in between her thighs and took a deep breath. "Known for its fragrance." He ran a finger gently down her lips. "And high oil production."
The Veela shivered. "I'd rather talk now, actually—"
He could see the slightest sheen and smiled. "Most famous for the high production of…nectar."
Neville attached his mouth to her pussy, his tongue extended confidently. He didn't know girls, didn't know sex, but this, this he knew. If only Harry or Sirius had told him that between a woman's thighs lay a flower.
His tongue wriggled deeply, his nose rubbing against her clit. He took a heady breath — she smelled incredible. In his head, he no longer heard Sirius, but Professor Sprout, his greatest mentor.
"Neville," She said sagely. "Nectar is produced in glands known as nectaries, found at the base of the flowers."
"Yes, Professor." He gurgled, his tongue going deep.
"Oh, merde—" The Veela's fingers thread through his hair.
"But remember, extrafloral nectaries can be located elsewhere, often on the petiole."
The petiole — the stalk. His eyes flickered open. Where was the Veela's stalk?
Of course. That which had been revealed, sliding out from under its hood, reddening.
How could he not recognize it? He had grown a flower identical to it — the butterfly pea. "Clitoria Mariana." He attached his lips to it, recited the flower's Latin name with his tongue.
"Good, Longbottom." It almost felt like she was patting his shoulder. "Always talk to your flowers — they can hear us, you know."
With his ears, Neville heard his flower shriek. With his fingers, he felt the steady flower of her nectar. And with his lips, he smiled.
Time always passed quickly when he was tending to his plants — it could have been hours before he was pushed away forcefully. His face covered in her oils.
"Oh," Neville looked at his bed partner. She was ragged, hair matted with sweat, red-faced, breathing heavily. Her pussy red and gleaming, sodden, her sheets soaked through.
"Y-you—" She croaked. She downed a glass of water on her sidetable and closed her eyes. Neville felt a wave of desperate lust, his vision tunneling in.
When she reopened them, she looked slightly more composed. Had that been her power?
"You," She said again. She reached forward and grabbed him by his school tie, throwing him onto the bed. Her eyes narrow, glinting, full of heated promise. "I am going to fuck you dead."
Neville gulped audibly. He'd forgotten Professor Sprout's first rule, the first thing she'd told the class when they entered her greenhouse. "In the world of magic, flowers fight back."
###
Ron breathed heavily as he smacked lips with the gorgeous redhead. She was tall and lithe, with thick toned thighs like a pro Quidditch player, and an ass that swallowed up the dark grey Falmouth Falcons boyshorts she wore. It was what had attracted him to her — she was an athlete.
That and her wild mane of deepest red and the freckles on her cheeks. Ron took a deep breath as he pushed her away. Was this really happening? They'd been kissing for twenty minutes now and he didn't know how to get to the next stage.
He didn't even know if he wanted to — fantasising about it and doing it were very different things.
"I-I love your hair." He stammered. Sex was scary but talk, he could do. He could talk for England. "I'm actually starting an organisation for redheads."
"Why?" She said, confused.
"To like, represent our rights. Our values, you know?"
She giggled. "You are funny."
Ron wasn't joking but he wasn't going to tell her that — her laugh did interesting things to her breasts, under her sheer white tanktop. "A lot of people say that." He lied.
"What will you call it?"
He hadn't even thought of a name. "Gingers United."
"It sounds like a Quidditch team."
"I…yeah, you're right. I really want people to understand that, like, ginger hair is natural and natural is beautiful, you know? Like, Gingers United for Natural Tresses."
"GUNT?" The Veela repeated.
"No, not GUNT, G.U.N.T." Ron winced. Now he sounded like Hermione.
She bit her lip. "But 'ow would you check ze applicants are natural redheads?"
Ron hesitated, all too aware that his hard cock was painfully jutting into his jeans. "I…I dunno."
"Hmm," She nibbled on her lip thoughtfully. "Zere is only one way, I theenk. The rude boys at my family's vineyard would ask it…" She brought his hands to the waistline of her boyshorts and lifted her hips off the bed. "Do ze vines match ze grapes?"
Ron gaped. The boyshorts peeled down her thighs, revealing a long landing strip of red hair, above the prettiest pink pussy. The carpet matches the drapes, he thought absently. Her little thatch of red hair - it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
She brought his hands to run through her garden. "Big, strong hands — I bet you play Keeper." She said silkily.
Ron swallowed three times. "I-I'm undefeated." He boasted.
"Mmm," She closed her thighs around his hand tightly — his fingers were trapped against her hot pussy. "I bet." She reached out to stroke his face. "I love a Quidditch star."
Ron trembled. He didn't want to tell her that he'd been carried by Harry's insane Seeker antics, that he let it in a lot of shots that he really shouldn't.
Just for tonight, he didn't need to play the sidekick.
The Veela girl released his hand and drew back her long legs easily, wrapping them behind her head like a contortionist. In this position, it was like her pussy was a shining light, like it was calling to him. She parted her folds with two fingers.
"When you go professional, you will get lots of fangirls, oui? Professional sluts ready to take your fortune." She pouted and winked at him. "I should prepare you for zat life."
Ron screamed at himself. What are you waiting for?!
He hurriedly pulled his jeans off, almost falling as they got stuck around his ankle.
A horny redheaded Veela with her legs behind her head.
Not for Bill or Charlie. Not for Percy or the twins. Not for Harry.
For him.
The Veela slid a finger into her wet pussy and then sucked it into her mouth, moaning theatrically. "Come on," She said eagerly. "We need to celebrate the beginning of GUNT."
Ron shivered as he lined his cock up. This was it — he was going to fuck a girl, to lose his virginity.
"Ready?" She raised an eyebrow, smirking his nerves.
He growled. "I'm going to fill your GUNT up."
###
Dean's chosen girl didn't say a word the whole time. She didn't speak a word of English or maybe she just didn't have anything to say.
But she'd stripped him with impressive speed, pushed him onto his back and promptly settled herself onto his cock like a horse jockey.
It wasn't how Dean had imagined his first time, but he couldn't really complain. She was a blonde with big tits, like he'd dreamed of.
She sat on his dick and rocked slowly, smiling at him as he tried to think of anything to stop himself cumming.
Snape, naked, pale and coated in oil. Minerva, plucking cobwebs off her pussy. Dumbledore, trying to charm his ancient cock alive.
"Fuck," Dean growled. It was no use — the Veela's simple rhythmic rocking was doing him in, the tight milking of her cunt.
The girl stopped, frowned. "Pro-blem?" She said with a thick Slavish accent, her English hesitant and stuttered.
"I just…don't want this to be over too soon."
She smiled like he was a child. "No pro-blem."
"But, but—" Dean said, panicked. "I don't know if I'll be able to get hard again, after."
She groped her own tits and began rocking once, lost in ecstasy. "You vill." She sighed happily. "I vill lick your balls and suck you."
Dean pondered that for a moment. "Well, alright then."
Being Harry's friend was the best.
###
Seamus mused over the line of Veela lovelies for a long, long time. This was a big deal — the biggest of deals. He had to make the right decision.
Redheads, blondes, brunettes. Black girls, brown girls, white girls.
"Alright," He snapped his fingers. "I want two girls. You two, you look alike?"
Two curly-haired blondes looked at each other with their green eyes. "We are sisters." They chorused.
Seamus froze — he could recognize that accent anywhere. "Wait, Irish?"
The two blushed in unison. "From Killarney."
"No fuckin' way! Kerry girls! I'm from Kenmare." He grabbed his hair. "I can't believe there are Irish Veela lasses. You two are fine things, ain't ya? I'm Seamus."
"I'm Róisín."
"Course you fuckin' are."
"And I'm Siobhan."
"Yep, yep." Seamus shook his head.
The gazebo under the moonlight didn't offer much privacy, but Seamus didn't need it. Irish Veela sisters. He couldn't believe his eyes as he sat in a wicker chair. "Fuckin' Irish. I can't believe it." He murmured again as the two girls undressed, revealing pale buxom bodies. "Feck off, my eyes are lying to me, right as I stare at ya."
The two just giggled. Róisín pushed him back in his chair with her foot. "Stop acting the maggot, silly boy." She teased. "We are very real — now what are you gonna do with us?"
"Make out." Seamus said instantly. "Make it wet and like, spitty."
The two giggled.
"We like a man that knows what he wants." Siobhan said, pulling her sister to her.
"And like shake your titties together." He added, pulling out his cock. He couldn't rush this.
Róisín smirked at him. "Proper chancer, ain't ya?"
Seamus grinned, stroking his dick. He looked up at the starry sky and the moonlight — he'd been blessed by someone great. He didn't know who to thank, so he thanked both of them. "Thank you Saint Paddy. Thank you Saint Hazza."
###
Sirius barked as he chased the girls. There'd been Veela to choose from, but he weren't about that life. He wasn't gonna settle for picking one, not when there was a whole court to chase after and the night was still young.
He was chasing after a petite brunette and a dark-skinned beauty. The grove of orange trees hid them well, but he could hear their giggles.
"Come out ladies," He declared. "Woof-woof!"
A blonde caught his eye in the distance — there was so many prizes, he was getting distracted! Sirius stretched, 'accidentally' flexing his muscles. "Hey, missie — don't suppose you've seen my bag, have you? I've dropped like a thousand galleons. No biggie, more when that came from."
More giggles.
Sirius held his spine and hissed. "Ah, can anyone lend me their bra? My back hurts from carrying the ancient noble house of Black."
Titters from the trees. A thong-clad beauty darted out and dove into the nearby pool, parting the reflection of the moon.
Sirius grinned, his tongue lolling out like he was a dog once more. "I see you!" He barked, running to the water. "Come to daddy!"
###
Sofia watched it all, her arms crossed. She tried to stay dispassionate, but the lusts were getting to her — she could feel her wet thighs, her hard nipples chafing against her bra.
Harry was impressive — the group of Veela had only made him seem more so. His cock throbbed, magnificent. When the stroking hands of her underlings worked him, it only served to make him look bigger.
Sofia's instructions had been clear — exhaust him. Make him cum. Make him lethargic. Only when he's at his weakest can we strike confidently.
One by one, they tried. Elodie was a warrior from her mother's time, built like an Amazon, so tough that Sofia had given her a rank that befitted her with lilac hair, the only way she could undermine her.
But Harry had taken her like a dog, pounding her from behind, the woman's glute's jiggling and shaking under his rough fucking until she'd creamed and screamed and begged for more. She was loud enough to penetrate the sheer magical curtains that hung from each column to give them privacy from her subjects below — Sofia didn't want them to know of what would happen on this night.
The young redhead Adeline, the daughter of her mother's right hand, had tried to slobber at Harry's balls as he thrust, but only ended up covered in Elodie's squirted surrender.
At least the warrior woman had managed to coax one load from his balls.
That load had sent the Veela into a frenzy — Sofia couldn't blame him. The smell of it was so thick, the musk of magic, the aura of it. Power — it was an aphrodisiac.
Adeline had almost stuffed Harry's cock into her asshole, she was so eager. She'd been taken against a temple column, helpless and mewling like a kitten. Sofia's lips curled in displeasure — Harry could hardly be exhausted if the silly whores were fucked so easily.
Still, the girl couldn't be blamed — Sofia saw the size of the bulge in her abdomen, retreating and thrusting. Adeline ended up pooled on the floor, sitting in a pool of her own squirt, Harry's thick cum oozing from her cunt.
Sofia resisted the urge to swipe a fingerful.
"How was it?" The Princess asked Elodie as Harry held the ankles of the caramel-skinned Estelle on his shoulder, casually thrusting into the girl on the sofa.
Elodie swallowed. "Yes," she said simply.
"His friends?"
"Suitably distracted."
"And you will be?"
"I am ready." Elodie said, though her whole frame was shaking.
"Hmm." Sofia replied. It was no wonder that Apolline and her daughter had surrendered to him. Harry's obedient whores watched with no small glee as their man reduced Sofia's arrogant subjects to craving sluts, creaming cunts.
Sofia pursed her lips — she needed the two out of the way for the final fuck. She navigated behind their sofa and leaned between the two women.
"It can be difficult to see a partner mate." She said gently. "I can arrange a private bedroom for you to rest, if you'd like. I will send him to you once he's…finished."
Apolline said nothing, her fingers under her skirt. But Fleur looked up with a lascivious smirk. "Actually, I quite like it." She said. "Watching the flex of 'Arry's muscles as he fucks, the tightening of his buttocks, the whores zat beg for his seed." Fleur shivered.
She pointed as Harry finished inside the whimpering Estelle, wiped his cock indifferently on her hair and pulled the blonde Celine over by the ankle. "Beautiful, non?" Fleur said. "He is in a trance. And she wants him but she is afraid."
Celine swallowed nervously as Harry's cum-coated cock parted her folds. The girl had a tiny slit for a pussy, so it was no wonder she was afraid she couldn't take him.
Sofia winced as the girl was reshaped by Harry's monstrous dick, even if she was soon screaming her pleasure, her eyes rolled back.
It's fine. The plan was working. Harry was tiring, losing steam. His load inside Celine was still more than a normal man, but it was a far cry from what bloated Elodie's stomach.
Sofia took a deep breath and regretted it. She was used to the smell of sex, but this was something else. The strong fragrance of dripping pussies and the electric spark of Harry's cum.
The pale-skinned Celeste had clearly caught Harry's eye early on, which was why'd he left her for last. The mischievous woman was Sofia's most trusted adviser, the whispers in her ear, the closest thing she had to a friend.
Like a friend, she fucked with Sofia's head for her time with Harry, kneeling on the sofa between Fleur and Apolline and looking right into Sofia's eyes, holding her hands as Harry entered her from behind.
Sofia tried to keep impassive as her best friend moaned and cooed into her ear. "He-he's so big!" She shuddered.
Her friend's admirably thick bottom clapped as Harry fucked her, the same bottom which Sofia sometimes allowed to sit on her face as they sixty-nined. It felt like he was stealing her away.
But Celeste did her job, even if she ended up gurgling and bug-eyed. Another load. Five in total.
Harry withdrew with a wince, cradling his balls, sweat pouring down his forehead.
He was finished. Weak.
It was time.
###
The Veela Court was everything Sirius had said it was, Harry decided. A bunch of freaky eager sluts.
He'd been suitably impressed by Sofia's gift — unbelievable beauties that quivered on his cock, milked his seed and before he blinked, another one was lined up and ready for him.
A taste of the future, he thought to himself. Even the disdainful hisses of Tom and Mei had been drowned out by the relentless pleasure and all-encompassing lust.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Pump, pump, pump. It was so beautifully simple.
Harry smiled, woozy. There was no need to worry about actions in past or cockblockers or what Voldie was up to — there was just this. His cock. Wet pussies. Wasn't this just natural?
When he dizzily withdrew from the last girl, a delightful green-haired goth, he eyed the Princess with skepticism.
She'd promised him herself, the last of the gifts, the reward in advance for his services collecting Eluthera-thingy's staff from the mermaid.
But would she really follow through? He was still half-expecting a withdrawal, an extra step for him to jump through.
"Are you ready for me, Harry?" She said. Her cheeks were rosy — she was excited.
"Uh, yeah," He blinked, trying to stroke his cock back alive. His hands were shoved away, replaced by the redhead and the blonde's. He winced — his balls were practically empty and his dick was awfully sensitive. "Have you got that Pepper-up Potion?"
"Oh, the night is young." Sofia said seductively. "Surely an energetic young man like yourself doesn't need it yet. Or am I not beautiful enough to arouse you without potions?" She pouted.
"No, no." Harry said hastily. "I can show you a good time."
"Good." She snapped her fingers and her entourage — freshly-fucked and sore, he noticed with satisfaction — undressed her.
Merlin, she was stunning. The perfect tits, more than a handful, creamy and begging to be groped. The pink of her hard nipples, waiting to be suckled.
Her absurdly long hair fell to her feet, white gold shimmering in the moonlight, and Harry followed it's trail, catching just a glimpse of her lips before her thigh shifted and she giggled coquettishly, hiding her femininity.
He had to have her.
She walked back to the temple's center, to a stone pedestal that she sat upon. "There is a little ceremony when it comes to bedding the Veela Princess for the first time, handsome." She told him, curling her toes. "Be patient, oui?"
Harry nodded quickly — he didn't care as long as he had her. He could see it now, the Princess at his beck and call, and with her, command of all the Veela.
The lilac-haired woman brought a bowl of oil and doused the Princess in it, making her glisten.
"I like this sort of ceremony." He grinned. "Baby oil."
The women giggled.
"Not baby oil." Sofia corrected. "The fluids of femininity, to anoint me in Morgana's own eyes."
Harry looked on with wide eyes — now they'd told him, he could smell it. Each of the woman reached between their legs and gathered more of their own juices — and his seed — and painted it on the Princess' naked skin.
When they were done, Sofia beckoned to him and parted her legs wide, unashamed.
"Claim your gift, Harry." She invited.
Harry stared at her folds. Pink and puffy and perfect, creased and topped with the lightest thatch of golden blonde. Her folds were wet and wetter still when her friend poured the bowl of juices over them.
Sofia looked at him knowingly, perched primly on an ass that was peachy and thick and perfect, the ass that had been in his head ever since she'd dropped her dress at the Delacour's soiree.
Harry looked over his shoulder — Apolline smiled at him encouragingly.
He was hard enough. He could do this. This was his prize for his hard work, even if had come earlier than expected. Sofia was his trophy. It would be like sticking his dick in the Triwizard Cup.
The redhead and the green-haired woman spread the Princess' legs, holding her in a high arch. The blonde was behind him, pushing him forward, stroking his dick. Sofia took his hands and placed them on her full tits, letting him groping them to his heart's content.
His heart was hammering.
He thought it was a trick, a trap, all the way until he slid into her cunt, felt her virgin barrier break, saw her grimace. Her squirm as he speared the tightest cunt slowly, his eyes closed in triumph.
"Vagina." The women around him murmured.
Harry's eyes flickered open. Sofia smirked at his alarm. "I told you, Harry. There is a ceremonial aspect to this." She gasped her words, her body arching, her toes curling as he entered her.
"Vagina." The women said again.
Harry ignored it for the greater pleasures — the sopping cunt, the tight walls, the pussy that had never been explored. He pressed his hand firmly down on her abdomen to make her gasp and for his own selfish delight — to feel his bulging cock split her.
She, the leader of the largest Veela coven, unobtainable royalty, teasing all, mocking him, pushing him into duels, shrugging her dress off to show him what he could not have.
Except now he could, and he did. He was tired and woozy and dizzy and done, but he could not rest until she was undone. The first domino that would lead to his Veela army and the greatest rush of power since he'd begun this journey.
She wriggled and whimpered as he embedded himself. "Deep as you can, uh! Fuck—just, just like that." She quivered in a little orgasm. Harry enjoyed the fight in her eyes, the stubborn irritation as he pawed at her tits like the teenager he was, groping them, batting them together.
She couldn't fight him, not while he was deep inside her—
"Vagina." The women murmured.
"Vagina." Harry grinned. "Is the staff worth it, Princess? Worth this?" He rammed her cunt hard, making her tremble. She felt so fucking good, but his balls were so empty.
Cum, Harry. He willed himself. Seed her, and she is yours. They are all yours. He would just lie on her pedestal and get her to order each of her subjects to mount him, a supermarket queue to submit.
The blonde behind him pushed him in, her hands on his ass. The Princess moaned eagerly. "Deep, deep, deep." She begged.
He bottomed out in her soaking hole. It was hotter than a furnace and tighter than a vice.
Harry smirked down at the desperate slut. "Knew I could get you to beg."
"It's worth, it's worth it—" She wailed. "For the staff!"
"I hope so."
The other women were pressed around him, and only then did Harry catch sight of their excited faces, the fanaticism in their eyes. They looked crazed.
"Vagina—!" They chanted. The blonde pushed him hard, so he was as deep as he could be, toppling over onto Sofia's front, face to face with her. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, her purple eyes glinting with victory.
She whispered a single word. "—dentata."
A breathless silence. A moment stretched to infinity.
And then, pain. Searing agony in his dick.
"Gah!" He screamed an unholy scream at the sensations.
The sounds — wet, tearing flesh.
The smell — bitter copper.
He looked down between their joined bodies — blood squirted up.
Harry withdrew, stumbling back several steps, but something of him remained inside Sofia, a sight that he stared at without comprehension. A long fleshy appendage, covered in red.
My cock.
Harry looked down — he had no cock. Just a fountain of spurting blood, like someone had taken his wand to create wine. But it wasn't a spell and it wasn't a wand they had taken.
Harry looked up again, dizzy, confused, unable to understand. Had he Apparated, splinched himself?
Sofia reached down between her thighs to take his cock — he saw the flash of something sharp and white in the folds of her cunt. She held his cock in her hands like a trophy. "I didn't lie to you completely." She told him gently. "We did want the source of power of the male Veela. But there is no staff, no artifact — the male Veela's power is in this." She held it aloft. "The cock."
Harry stared at her, stumbling, dizzy. He dropped to one knee, shaking. His cock.
They'd taken his cock.
The glimpse of something sharp and white in her pussy was a glimpse of teeth. Vagina dentata…it was an incantation.
Rage boiled up, but it wasn't hot or fierce, but a terrible cold that spread from his stomach to his fingers.
"Ahahaha!" Tom roared with laughter. "They have robbed you of your power! You cannot grow without any more whores!" He smacked his hand to his forehead. "How did I not think of this?!"
Mei Chang sniggered. "You made your bed, Harry Potter — now get fucked in it."
He couldn't hear, the tiredness and the blood less sinking in. Hands under his shoulders, helping him stand — Fleur and Apolline. They were screaming, wands out, but it was just dull noise.
He could hear nothing but the harsh hammering beating of his heart.
Harry's wand zipped into his hand, but his mind wasn't working. He couldn't think of a single spell. He blinked.
The sound rushed back to him.
Princess Sofia held his cock aloft with both hands. "I command you two to obey!" She declared.
Apolline sniffed.
Fleur growled.
"It is not his cock that holds power over us." The older Delacour said simply, turning into a dueling stance. "It is his heart." She looked at Harry lovingly.
Sofia snarled, her skin flushing. Her entourage behind her, wands in hand. She gave his cock to the green-haired girl and turned back, wand in hand. "Then I shall take that too!"
Harry's vision tunneled. The wooziness was making things difficult, colors merging together, shapes becoming blurry, but the situation wasn't hard to understand.
They had his cock. They threatened his women.
They had chosen to die.
Don't you just hate it when you lose your wand? Did you enjoy reading playboy-Sirius? Next week, next Friday, next chapter - Harry fights to retrieve Little Harry - will the boys fend off their lusts to come and help?
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