A/N:
All previous warnings still, and will continue, to apply. Not for children or the faint of heart, or anyone sexually conservative. You've been warned.
Thanks as always to my amazing Beta, Hrymeigh, for going back and editing everything I've already posted before digging into new content.

For those readers who've been loyally reading this for ages, you probably already know: I have a DISCORD. You can find tidbits, maps, images, and more related to FwB, P:TaL, and Z:PoW as well as all my Omake there. In addition there's a few other useful links you might enjoy. If you want to learn more about my writing, go check it out at discord . gg / EDHf6ZG . You might find fun stuff there. :)
That's enough out of me. Enjoy!

Chap. 33 Losing or Gaining Control

The wizard once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle frowned as his body, his new, glorious body, twitched.

Twitched where it shouldn't have, for he had forgone such desires years earlier, and cared little for them. Breaking a girl beneath him was no more fun than doing it with his magic, so what had been the point? Easier to let his minions- his 'friends', he silently corrected himself- do it when such things were necessary.

And this new, gray-silver skinned body, the one he'd built for himself with the inept aid of Wormtail and three exceedingly precious ingredients in the graveyard of Little Hangleton's small church should not have been capable of the type of movements it was making. "Most... disconcerting," Voldemort hissed to himself, uncomfortably shifting in the chair at the end of the breakfast table in Malfoy Manor.

He did not truly need to eat, but Voldemort liked to keep up appearances, and his body could mimic- even use- the process of digestion well enough that he gained some sustenance from the edibles, whether he needed them or not. But this particular breakfast was more about the people around the table than himself, Voldemort could freely admit. They needed to eat, weaker creatures that they were. They needed to... socialize. Bond.

Inwardly, Voldemort shuddered, even as he found himself imagining what they saw in it. He'd never been one for friends, even in his far youth. As a teen, while he had briefly found joy in physical gratification, it had quickly paled compared to the greater feeling of control when he forced himself on one girl or another, leading him to the feeling that even the physical pleasure of mating was second-best to a profound control over oneself and one's magic. Even that, though, was nothing to control over others. Control which he felt himself longing, for some reason, to exert in a way he hadn't since just a couple of years after leaving Hogwarts, when he'd first begun to perform the rituals that had granted him such power on top of his Horcruxes.

The vast majority of the beings in the room were witches and wizards, roughly equal in number, though he knew there was a House-Elf in the corner behind Lucius, mostly hidden from view, and his own familiar, Nagini, was curled up beneath the fire behind him. Rowle, the three Lestranges, Lucius and his wife, they made up nearly half of the group, which had spent the better part of breakfast discussing their upcoming plans to infiltrate the famous school, and how they might help young Draco Malfoy in his task of opening the door for their entry.

A difficult task, given that only Voldemort himself had any idea what the door was, since Draco had been forbidden to tell even his parents, as part of Lucius' punishment.

After all, he personally didn't need the doorway opened on that end. He could simply... walk through the gates, should he desire it. But no... first, before he attempted to enter the school, Dumbledore needed to be removed, which was why Draco had been given the other half of the task. Getting his Death Eaters into the school would allow them to cause some havoc, yes, with the Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors. But their true purpose was to finish the job if- when- Draco found himself unequal to the task of defeating the powerful Headmaster.

Some might consider it strange, that Voldemort, whom the foolish and weak usually considered a megalomaniac, could acknowledge the strength, power and skill of one Albus Dumbledore. Yet, there was no reason not to. The aged wizard was regarded as the most powerful man alive, and one of the most powerful to have ever lived the world over. It was only right and natural that the Death Eaters feared him. But Voldemort? He didn't truly fear Dumbledore, not anymore. Respect was a much better word. Respect as a long-standing foe, an adversary in the great game they played, but not truly an enemy to be hated or feared or reviled. Besides, in the end, Voldemort knew it only served himself if everyone thought them equal. These were the thoughts Voldemort found himself ruminating on while his eyes roved the slender curvature of Bellatrix' neck as it moved down to her almost gaunt shoulders and limp cleavage, what had once been enough to catch even his eye, before Azkaban had stripped much of her beauty from the mad witch.

It would make the victory and stories of his power all the greater when the 'greatest wizard of the millenium' fell to Voldemort's meager henchmen, or at worst, to himself.

No... the greater problem was the boy.

How he had escaped the Department of Mysteries alive was still something that eluded Voldemort. Many of his men and women had died in that battle, but they had died against children, plus whatever magical beast had been set free within the bowels of the Department of Mysteries that had done no damage whatsoever to the children themselves, while burning, disemboweling, even decapitating his own forces.

There was something else going on, and Voldemort knew it. He could feel it. The game-board had shifted in some undefinable way, almost as if the chess board now had a third player, which caused all of the other rules to change in a subtle fashion. What, though, he couldn't say.

It did not occur to him, as he began to imagine Bellatrix' emaciated, slowly recovering body sinking onto his improperly-rigid penis that his more localized predicament or the greater issue could possibly be linked.

Still, once he caught himself, Voldemort scowled. "All of you out," he hissed, "except you, Lucius and Narcissa."

As much as he might have dreamed about Bellatrix with her former beauty, given the circumstances, Voldemort knew those days were gone, possibly forever. Now, it was Narcissa who was the prettier sister... and Lucius still needed to be punished.

Once everyone else was gone from the room, Bella giving him a last, confused look as she closed the door behind her, Voldemort rested a fingertip on his wand, locking the door and windows without moving it or incanting a spell. "Now, Lucius... it is time for the rest of your punishment to begin. We will start by helping me with a problem I have developed. Both of you, come closer. Yes, sit there, Lucius, at my right hand as you once dreamed of being. And you, Narcissa... you will sit between my feet."

The already pale-complected man lightened further as Voldemort opened his robes, but did not dare protest, which sent another thrill through Voldemort's body, even as a suddenly green-faced woman opened her mouth to receive him with all the aplomb and decor he had come to expect from proper pure-blooded wives.

And it was, all in all, more pleasurable than Voldemort had remembered, or given credence to. Maybe, he acknowledged once it was done, there is some worth to this sort of thing after all. But the control over both is still the best part.

Harry woke up in the bed with Ron, Hermione long-since gone, to find Lilith licking her lips clean of Ron's splattered seed, before twisting her body to engulf him in her mouth, too. "Sorry," she murmured to both still-sleepy teens as she popped off, "I've got to get this done now, I need to be at breakfast as Lyra on-time some of the time, since I have early classes, too."

"Don't mind me," Ron, penis only half-flagged, stretched languidly and put his hands behind his head to watch as Lilith went back to blowing Harry quickly. The dark-haired wizard shrugged, mirroring his friend's position, and leaned back into the pillows to enjoy the sensations.

"Where'd Hermione go?" he asked as his climax began to approach a few minutes later.

"Shower," Ron shrugged, "she wanted to double-check her homework early. Thinks she's going to fail everything already because she isn't spending as much time on it."

Harry snorted, pushing Lilith's head down onto himself further as she began to change her throat into the same tentacled orifice she used as a special treat, groaning in pleasure a moment later. "Gods, Lils... it's still weird, but I love how that feels."

"Mffh fuu, Mfthr," she murmured around him, and the further vibrations were just enough to cause him to peak. A few minutes later, both boys were in their respective showers while Hermione continued to pour over her homework in the common area, and a bleary-eyed Ginny staggered, nude and encrusted in what could only be Lilith's fluids, into the third shower.

Friday passed in a blur of learning and study for Harry. Aside from missing Lyra's 'go-round' at breakfast, there was little time for fraternizing. Potions, Herbology, and Defense followed rapidly after each other in the morning, and while Dumbledore kept a careful eye out in his classes to make sure that Lyra and Harry weren't up to anything, the wizard, as usual, found himself so enraptured by both the subject and Dumbledore's teaching style that he hadn't thought about it the entire class.

After lunch, there was a bit of free time, one period, but Hermione was quite insistent that they get their schoolwork out of the way before play over the weekend and that night, so both he and Ron had buckled down and gotten about half of their eighteen inches on the proper brewing and uses of the Wiggenweld Potion, a powerful healing draught and the counter to the Draught of Living Death and other sleeping potions, while Hermione had just finished hers before Double Transfiguration.

By eight o'clock, even Hermione, who had been helping both boys, Neville, and Ginny with their own revision on top of her own work, was starting to drag.

Which meant that, when Ron slapped his copy of the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six, shut, the others were quite ready to join him. Still, it was Ginny who was the first to stand upright, looking tired but chipper, "Runes?"

Harry blinked. "Er... oh. Yeah. Uh... one more line, and I'll- join you. If you want me to."

"Of course I do, Harry," Ginny said, sounding more annoyed that he'd felt the need to ask, "I think I'll want you and Neville. And Hermione, if she's... willing."

The bushy-haired witch looked up from her own frantic study, "Er, what? O- oh. Yes. I... I can h-help."

Ron smirked as their shared girlfriend blushed. Harry, though, grinned as he stood and offered her a hand, "I distinctly remember, Hermione, you saying you didn't like to share."

"Well," she sniffed as she accepted the hand, "I have since learned that sharing is caring, and that it's always polite to share."

Only Ron was still frowning, sitting on the chair in the common room when Harry, who had politely held the door for the others, entered the Dungeon, which now had a very cordoned- and curtained-off section to hide Romilda from Neville's eyes. "Er... coming, mate?"

"That's my sister, Harry," Ron groaned, "I..."

"Mm. I think I see what you mean," Harry murmured, then put his head through the doorway, "I'll join you in a minute," before letting the door shut and crossing to sit next to Ron again.

"I'm not saying you should shag her," Harry eventually said, as the sounds of giggling and moans began to rise through the mostly-silenced door, "but is there harm in watching?"

Ron was quiet for a while, a long while, but he eventually muttered, voice low, "Yeah. Yeah, there is."

Harry blinked, not having expected that answer. "What harm?"

He watched carefully as his best mate continued to turn over whatever he was trying to say in his mind. Whatever it was- and Harry had a good idea after thinking about it for a moment- it was causing no end of consternation. And a part of him knew exactly why. It was strange. Weird. Taboo, and even freakish. Yet...

Why?

Sure, there were the increased chances of genetic anomalies. Mutations.

But Harry wasn't a particularly religious person himself, had never been allowed to go to church. His only 'education' outside of school was being told, more or less, "If you ever get a girl pregnant, you'll be tossed out," with no instruction on what exactly that required so that he could avoid it.

Still, somehow he knew it was 'wrong'. He felt a secret guilty thrill every time he thought of the two together, and that guilt was all he needed. But he wanted to see it anyway.

"I..." Ron murmured quietly, looking away very red-faced, "when I see it, I want... more. I wanna touch her, Harry, and she's my sister."

Harry grinned softly, but hid it when Ron turned back his way, "You touch Ginny all the time."

"Not- not like that, though," Ron muttered.

Harry let him stew for a few minutes more, then asked, "When we put on Neville's Runes, you were watching her blow me even when Hermione was on you. When we were shagging, you watched. You told me that night you wanted her to do it, suck you off, too. Was that a lie?"

"No," Ron half-growled, "that's the problem. Brothers and sisters aren't supposed to... to do things like that, but the whole time she was next to me, I kept feeling like she was a half-second from tugging me off, or leaning over and... and then you started doing more, like you were just... tempting me harder. It..."

"Okay," Harry shrugged, feeling surprisingly nonchalant despite how bothered Ron seemed, "if you don't want to get a blow-job from Ginny, that's fine. If you do, just ask me. She won't say no if I ask her to. But I know you've enjoyed watching us, so I don't see what's so different this time. Still, if you want to go find someone else to shag, you can. Hell... Romilda's behind the curtain, and Lil- Lyra did say that the more sex she gets the faster she'll recover, especially from us."

Ron's frown faltered, then slowly lifted into a smile. "That's right. I... I guess I can watch, and if things get...weird... I can just go behind the curtain and pretend I'm wanking in private."

"Right."

When Harry led the way back into the Dungeon, Neville was on his knees, nude, between Ginny's ankles where she was tied in the same position he'd been a few days earlier on the bed, one hand idly gripping his fat dick, but doing nothing else but panting slowly as he watched Hermione assist by sixty-nining the younger witch, while Lyra held a probably conjured, porcelain bowl to capture the red-head's juices as she began to writhe.

Harry and Ron both made their way into the room, Harry toward the space between couch and bed, and Ron to the headboard, so he could look down and at least claim he was watching Hermione being eaten out in turn, ignoring that it was his sister eagerly doing the deed. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Yes, Master," Lyra replied quietly, licking her lips as she, too, watched Hermione work, "but unfortunately, given your bond with Ginny, I'll need you to wait until last. Hermione's runes will work a bit differently too, but any girls we give them to afterward will probably be more standard. Neville will have her cunt, mouth, and ass, Hermione her mouth, then you will enjoy your Pet's body too. Mouth, cunt, and tight little arse after. With each set, we'll gather the mixtures together in the bowl, combined with what I can pull from Hermione when she climaxes.

"Because you're her Master already, we have to do a bit longer ritual. Once we have fluids from all three, I'll start drawing the first Rune with that, and Neville and Hermione will be done with the ritual. They can step back while I do my set in the same way. Then you, Master, will complete the set since you are her Master as well. Once she's been claimed by a male, Neville, a female in Hermione, myself as the Succubus doing the ritual, and you as her Master, I can inscribe all the Runes I'll need for the next ritual as well. Any sex after your three, though, will be for fun."

Just as she finished speaking, Lyra removed the bowl from between Ginny's legs to push it beneath Hermione's twat as her plump ass began to shake, and the girl gasped. "G- God, Ginny... you're s-so goood..."

After her climax was over, Harry stepped forward to see two slightly different shades of liquid mixing in the bottom of the bowl as Lyra passed it back just in time to catch the squirt that was the result of Hermione's renewed assault on Ginny's clit.

A few seconds later, as Hermione limply rolled over to the side opposite Lyra and Harry, Neville eagerly knee-walked forward. But he paused, tip of his head just nudging Ginny's pale, drenched folds, and looked to Harry. "Is... is this really okay?"

Harry froze as Neville's gray-green eyes met his.

Was it...?

They were so alike, he and Neville.

So much was so very similar.

Did Neville deserve Ginny?

He knew they'd shagged before, of course.

He imagined Ginny riding him with abandon, as she had done when Neville got his own Runes. The night he'd been out of control with lust... And he wanted that for Ginny. "Do it."

While he'd now had quite a bit more experience than the previous year, Neville had only recently gotten his own Runes, and had not fully adjusted. He lacked some subtlety, and drove in after that, stretching and pulling at Ginny's otherwise narrow channel with his wrist-wide dick, stretching what was likely her entire length out to nearly twice the width of the average caucasian penis.

She bucked, though Lyra, still holding the bowl as she began to layer Runes already with some of the mixture, accommodated by pulling hand and porcelain away. "Ffuuuuck!" Ginny screamed, head lifted to look down her body at where Neville was now buried to the hilt, his pubic hairs tickling her cunt.

"S- Sorry... to fast?"

Ginny's response shocked everyone but Lyra and Harry. "No, you fat-cocked stud, it's great... fuck me, fuck me so hard!"

Harry kept his attention on the ritual and his good friend shagging his own Pet while he slowly disrobed, letting the clothes pile on the floor. On the other side of the bed, Hermione, still glassy-eyed from her own strong climax under Ginny's skilled tongue, put one hand on Ginny's rapidly-shaking teat and the other on her own while she twisted her head and torso to watch from just a few inches away. Ron, still standing, had freed himself from his trousers but didn't undress, and leaned down just a little to pull Hermione's hips toward the edge of the bed and push inside.

Neville, meanwhile, hiked up Ginny's rear so it was practically on his lap as he started pounding in short thrusts, sweating and gasping, all-but lost to lust once more.

But Ginny didn't seem to care that he was taking little thought for her pleasure. Instead, Harry delighted that from the girl's mouth came an endless stream of pants, mewls of delight, or some few words that continually urged Neville on.

It took Harry about five minutes, moving slowly, to finally push his boxers down and step out of them, and he was raging hard, of course, but knew he couldn't start too soon. He didn't even dare distract Lyra, not right now, since Neville had just started to gush, lifting Ginny even further from the bed, into the depths of her pussy.

He withdrew a moment later with a wet-sounding squelch, and Lyra waved a hand at once, pulling up gobs and strings of both his cum and Ginny's, which swirled together in a long, twisting rope to settle in the bowl.

Neville, thanks to the Runes, was still hard even though he was panting and glistening. "Her mouth, Nev," Harry urged, "fuck her mouth, too."

Shakily, the other boy stood and walked, the bed rocking and sending them all with it, to Ginny's head, then spun around and knelt once more. She, though, turned her own eager attention to his sack first, pulling on one testicle, then the other, with her lips, licking all around it, and only then opening wider for the rest of him.

Harry gaped as Neville's erection seemed to stretch Ginny's petite mouth painfully wide, pulling her lips utterly taut... but she held him all in her mouth, for he was not as long as Harry by several inches. He could see her upturned, curved neck working, too, and the motion of her tongue as she licked and laved.

Lyra returned to drawing Runes rapidly, not just a trio, but a long line of them down between Ginny's breasts to her navel, and another singular one below it, a complex pattern Harry hadn't yet seen.

Hermione and Ron climaxed, as far as Harry could tell, together a few minutes before Neville did, and he helped her to the couch, where she whispered, "I'm sorry, Ron... I'm tired... I don't have the Runes yet."

Harry looked behind himself to see Ron frowning with his long dick next to Hermione's mouth, but the girl did look truly remorseful, as if she wanted to help him out, to continue, but simply didn't have the energy. Ron shrugged after a moment, then nodded. "I understand... next time, Hermione."

He watched as his mate crossed the room, then stepped behind the curtain, snorting in amusement, before the rhythmic sound of flesh on flesh and soft moans he'd dreamed of the night before filled his ears. Neville, in the meantime, had recovered once more and knelt where he had previously, though now Ginny's position had been flipped while he was distracted, so that she was on all fours.

Lyra, as he turned back, was wiping a generous dollop from the bowl onto the small star of Ginny's anus, and reminded Neville, "This will hurt. I know you want to rut... let her adjust first. She's never had anything as wide as you there."

Neville grunted, aligned himself as Lyra pulled away and pushed in. To his credit, he did so slowly, gently after a fashion. But he didn't stop until Ginny's lightly-bound hands were holding her head just off the sheets as she whimpered in pain.

And Harry felt for her, wanted to punish Neville for hurting his Pet, but...

"I'm so full..."

Ginny began to move, rocking back and forth with tiny motions that grew longer and faster. Behind him, he heard Hermione gasp faintly in surprise at Ginny's eagerness, and heard Ron, louder, groan as another climax approached.

Damn, I need to be inside someone...

But he forced himself to remain still as Ginny threw her head back in rapture, and her body moved faster still, until she was throwing her tiny self against Neville's, about twice the mass of her own, and he couldn't help but lift his own Herbology-darkened, if clean, hands to the pale girl's hips and hold her still as he started moving in turn.

Ginny likes anal quite a lot, Harry realized, smiling to himself. He'd only been with her that way... what, twice, now? He'd have to do it more, now that he realized she did truly enjoy it.

This time, his third, Neville didn't last very long, and soon he was gushing out into Ginny's ass as well. Lyra followed the same procedure as he pulled out slowly, grunting, and made his way, still half-hard, to collapse next to Hermione on the couch.

Still, Harry made himself stay still while Lyra drew more runes, then handed him the bowl as her cock began to swell out... and then a second, mounted on top of it.

"Just speeding things up, Master," Lyra cooed, stepping behind the shaking, quivering girl that was his Pet, and shoving both moderate-sized cocks into her anus and cunt at the same time.

Harry finally let himself start stroking his erection lightly as he watched Lyra fill both of Ginny's lower holes at once, and heard shifting on the couch, though it was quiet next to the growing cries behind the curtain. Romilda had not been quiet before she became a creature of lust, and was less so now.

He didn't particularly care, too, what Neville thought of Lyra being able to grow a hard cock, much less two. He'd either want to be with her again, with or without, or not.

The Succubus didn't torture the human girl long, though, and climaxed fairly quickly, before one penis faded and she held the bowl for Harry, "Catch what falls out, Master, while I use her throat."

Privately wondering, by this point, if Lilith wasn't secretly torturing him, Harry obeyed, and soon, Ginny was half-insensate once more as Lyra rolled her over, undoing all four ropes with a gesture, and adding more depth to the long series of Runes.

Finally... "Alright, Master. You're her Master, too, so you choose the order, but you'll need to use her in every hole tonight."

He grinned. "It's been about an hour and a half that I've been waiting... I take it more than once won't hurt?"

"No," Lyra giggled, "once the Runes activate, she'll want it just as badly as Neville."

Harry glanced in the direction of the couch, where Neville was wanking himself with a still tired-looking Hermione's hand as he watched. "Hey, Nev... if you don't want to wait, there's a girl waiting for you behind the curtain. Might have to share with Ron."

Neville lurched up, eyes wide, and almost ran for the far corner. "Hey, Nev."

"Hi, Ron... is that... Vane?"

"Yeah... nice cunt, nice mouth."

"Oooohh..."

Worry that Neville might rat him and Ron out faded as he let his own gigantic member slide along the well-slicked folds of Ginny's cunt, then pushed in lower, filling her ass to the brim too. Again, she cried out, "That's it, Harry... fuck my ass! Use me like a Knockturn whore!"

And he did.

Being with Ginny, like Hermione, felt like home.

That was still there, as always, but in that moment, Harry could not cherish it. Instead, he knew that she was his Pet, his slave, his property, to use as he willed, in the same way Romilda was being used by Ron and Neville behind the curtain. So he did, taking enjoyment for himself, knowing that Ginny wanted only that. She didn't care for her own pleasure, only his.

And, in that moment, that was right and good.

He was probably dirty after spilling inside her, but didn't care as he knee-walked up her body to shove his dick into the girl's mouth, and she didn't grimace or make signs of complaint, only took him in eagerly, eyes beginning to glow with a soft pink light.

He came again several minutes later, and moved down to fill her beautiful, still-stretched, gaping pussy, slick with earlier leavings and her continued, paramount arousal.

And when he was done, the light in the girl's eyes flashed brighter still, matching the same flash in Lyra's, in the Runes, and if he'd been able to see it, his own.

Still, between each climax, Lyra added more Runes, then as he had finished with the third, pulled him away. "Give me a few minutes, perhaps a half-hour, to finish her set, Master... Romilda or Hermione can do more, now."

Drunkenly, hazy-minded with his own lust, or maybe Ginny's, Harry nodded and turned, stumbling. He landed atop Hermione, dripping dick inches from her mouth. She groaned, opened wide, and, rested and more awake now, began to suckle.

Gods, she's so good at this...

Hermione was the only human girl he knew that could deep-throat him, and she used the skill eagerly that evening, until she swallowed his entire load.

Then, as he pulled away, still glassy-eyed herself, Hermione rolled over, lifting her arms to the back of the couch, and said over her shoulder, "My ass, Harry... put it in there."

"Don't need to tell me twice," he muttered, and using her own saliva on his cock, pushed in. He watched, too, while slowly moving in and out of the girl's still relatively untouched flesh, the curtain slide open.

Neville was fucking Romilda's ass, if Harry was right, just as he was Hermione's. But Ron, looking a bit spent but ready for at least one more round, pulled his long erection from the depths of Romilda's throat and staggered, cum still dripping from his tip and swinging while he walked, over to Hermione.

"Love you both," she murmured, then inhaled Ron's length, too.

Harry looked down his body as his best friends coupled with him in their own way, both looking exhausted but unwilling to stop, until he filled Hermione's intestines with his seed, and Ron did the same from the other end of her digestive tract.

He was still hard inside the witch when Ron sank to his knees and kissed her, then vanished behind the couch, apparently passing out on the floor.

A moment later, as he withdrew, Hermione did the same on the couch. He adjusted their positions with a roll of his eyes, still quite hard, and made use of Romilda's still sloppy cunt once more after Neville traded sides for the younger girl's mouth before he re-joined Ginny and Lyra just as the Runes began to flash a blinding white-pink, then fade.

When Harry could see again, Ginny was already engulfing him with her mouth, and Lyra eagerly lapped at the girl's folds from behind.

It took six hours to sate the sex-maddened girl between them, but Harry couldn't complain about any of that night.

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