A/N:
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Finally, Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukka, Happy Kwanzaa, or whatever holiday you celebrate, or don't, this season. :) There will be an additional post tomorrow, for the same holiday (just for those curious, for me, Christmas). Yes, this maintains truth even on Christmas- I was gonna do 3 days before, and forgot, so I'll do my utmost to get the next chapter posted tomorrow anyway. :)

Oh, one more finally! TRIGGER WARNINGS, just 'cause for safety- there's some 'old dude' (Slughorn) sexuality in this chapter. It's 90% offscreen or more, 'cause I don't think the vasty majority of readers want to read it (and I didn't want to write it), but there's some lead-up tha tis 'on-screen', and discussions about it. Also a Student / Teacher relationship related to same (though it's past-tense and never really started).

Chap. 53: Seven Secrets

Hermione whimpered as she stepped past the study tables and into the stacks of the massive, quiet Hogwarts Library. Damn you, Harry. Doing the ritual in that fake library has ruined libraries for me. I can't smell so many books and not get excited. I won't be able to study like this, and I've only got an hour until I need to get to Transfiguration. There's no time to go back to the quarters.

She grimaced again as her too-fast mind imagined a full scenario taking place there. Lyra frequently skived off classes, since the teachers mostly knew who and what she was, so she would be present. Ron and Harry both had a free period along with her between Charms and Transfiguration, but they had headed straight for the suite while she'd gone to the Library after asking Professor Flitwick several questions about the Shield Charm's dueling variants.

Which leaves me in the library, randy as all get-out, and no one around but books. Books which smell sinfully erotic right now.

But wait... there's no one else around. Even Madam Pince isn't here. Her eyes drifted to a rather thick, musty old tome titled, appropriately enough, Personal Satisfaction through Spellwork. With a furtive look around, she pulled the heavy, leather-covered volume from the shelves and tucked it under the arm opposite her backpack, before hurrying deeper into the library for her favorite nook, the one where Harry had seduced her once before.

Once she reached it she set her extra things down and clutched the book to her chest tightly, feeling it as it pressed her already-erect nipples into her flesh through the clothing, and leaned down to take a long sniff. Oh, God... Am I really going to do this?

... Who am I kidding? Of course I am.

With another glance around, the witch pulled her wand free of her sleeve and cast several protective charms, including Muffliato, and a mild Antipathy charm that should work to keep everyone who wasn't her away from the area for a little while. Then she pushed her knickers to the floor, stepped out with just one foot, and put the book spine-up vertically on her favorite chair. Hermione held it there with one hand, already breathing rapidly, and stepped with her knees up onto the chair too, straddling the book.

Her knees only had to drop an inch or so to reach the spine, and the rigid hardness of it settling between her legs made Hermione swoon. "Oh, God," she cried, throwing her head back. Why is this so good? It's a fucking book, not- not a cock!

But the thought didn't stop her from sliding her pussy over it a few times, the movement made easier and faster after just a few passes due to the moisture she was putting out. It was a little awkward at first, but Hermione soon discovered that she could hold the tome in place with her luscious thighs and use only her pelvis to stimulate herself with it, leaving her hands free to clutch the back of the chair or rub her clit, then roughly grope her breasts.

"Wha- what am I doing," she gasped after a few minutes, never slowing her increasingly rapid humping, "I'm defiling a book! Not just any book, but a school book! I'm rubbing it on my pussy, fucking it like a sex toy!"

That realization made things even more erotic for her, and she grunted in a rapid climax as she drenched the leather-bound cover. But she was not satisfied. Fucking Runes are making me want to fuck so much! As soon as her peak passed, Hermione started again, but this time tapped the book with her wand, setting it to vibrate with the same wordless incantation she had used on her favorite dildo.

"Oh- Oh yes, c- cumming... cumming again! Oh, yes, get me off! I'm gonna- gonna-"

Her next words were unintelligible through the shriek of ecstasy she let out. If she had not used such a potent sound-muffling charm, a few minutes later she was sure she would've been caught. But even as she recovered from the shattering climax, Hermione returned her mind back to study. She did have work to do, after all, and a half-hour break was all she could spare.

Damn it, I'm still so randy... At least that orgasm was good. Who knew books could be good that way, too?

(O)(O)(O)

"Potter, Granger, Weasley, Sendai," Professor Slughorn announced at the end of an interesting potion lesson where they had been lectured on a potion Harry and his friends knew well, "As well as Greengrass, Parkinson, Turpin, Patil, Corner, and Bones, I'd like you to stay here for a few minutes. The rest of you are dismissed. Try not to forget everything we've covered on Polyjuice Potion before Monday, as it's devilishly tricky!"

Harry resisted the urge to look toward the two Slytherin girls while inquisitive eyes were still in the Potions classroom, but he was the only one. As more than half of the class filed out, Hermione was the first up to Slughorn's desk, where the rotund teacher patiently sat. "What is it, Professor? Was there something wrong with our work today?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Slughorn waved off the girl's concerns as he waited until the last student whose name he hadn't called out left the room, then raised his wand and flicked it at the door, which shut and locked with a bang.

At once, Harry was on high alert, but Slughorn put his wand down on the desk with a jovial smile and beamed around at all of them. Once everyone had gathered around the desk, Daphne and Pansy were on Harry's right, the Gryffindors on his left, and the Ravenclaws and lone Hufflepuff stood a bit further back. "So," Slughorn said cheerfully, "by now I take it you've all at least had a chance to skim over the material you were provided a few weeks before, yes? How did you find it?"

"It was enlightening, to say the least," Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister, said with a faint smile. "I had no idea the Muggles knew so much about how people's minds worked."

"Oh, I'm sure the Muggles know a great deal more than that now," Slughorn chuckled jovially, "as the books I suggested are all older than any of you, and Muggle sci-en-fists come up with new things every day, it seems. Do you feel, having read at least some of the works, that you've learned something, Miss Patil?"

Padma nodded vigorously, "Yes, I learned a lot. I've always watched people, but being able to understand the theory behind the patterns I've observed has leant a whole new depth to it."

"Just so," Slughorn said with a smile, then turned to the others, "If you haven't at least read the first few on the list, I recommend you do so as soon as possible. Perhaps you can borrow a copy from Miss Patil, if necessary. You'll find that your relationships will grow more, shall we say, beneficial if you put the techniques and theories outlined in but the first book I named to use in your life. And all without a single spell cast!"

Lyra smirked, glancing around the room, "I looked through the list too, Professor. I wouldn't have pegged you as a student of psychology."

"I'm not. But I, like Miss Patil, have made a lifetime study of people, and that has made me a happy old man. It made me a happy young man decades ago, too."

Some of the students chuckled at the little joke, but most seemed unsure if it would be rude, including Harry, so they only shifted uncomfortably.

"Now, the reason I've given you all that list is because I see a lot of potential in you all, just as I have with students in other classes. You are all outstanding people and students in your own way, and I have always made it a habit to encourage exceptionalism."

"But why?" Padma asked, narrowing her eyes, "What do you get out of it?"

To Harry's surprise, Slughorn's smile only widened, "An excellent question, no doubt spurred on by a suspicion the very books you've read has spawned, yes? Well, I'll tell you that there are two reasons. The first is that it will benefit you. I am, above all else, a teacher. It is my greatest claim to have been instrumental in helping to spread wealth, knowledge, and broaden the horizons of my students. The second, well..."

Harry grinned, sure he knew this thanks to Dumbledore, "The second is because your grateful protégés like to reward you, in turn, too."

"Just so," Slughorn said shamelessly, still smiling as he nodded in Harry's direction. "I am not a believer in profit at another's expense. Prosperity is not and should not be what Muggle students of finance call a zero-sum game. By increasing the potential wealth of my students, I increase my own potential wealth. Because of that, when my students actualize that potential wealth..."

"You become more wealthy," Daphne said quietly, "in various ways, probably, through gifts and favors. It's a very Slytherin way of doing things."

"That it is," Slughorn replied, just as cheerfully as any other answer. Ron scowled silently, but Harry knew it was no insult.

"To further that end," the older man said after a few moments of reflection, "I would like to formally invite you to a little get-together at the end of term. Let us say, on Monday night before the train heads back to London. It will be held in honor of you, part of my newest crop of movers and shakers in the world, but that part will be our little secret. There will be food and drink, of course, the finest money can buy, but that isn't all! No, this will be your first chance- your first of many, I hope- to rub shoulders with some of the most famous and influential people in our country... or even beyond! Because as any Slytherin can tell you..."

"Money helps, but it's truly who you know that opens the Gringotts Vaults," Pansy murmured.

Again, Slughorn smiled, but didn't say anything else.

"So, I'll see you all then. Feel free to bring a little, shall we say, arm-candy if you wish. I'll have the written announcements out as soon as I finalize a date. Go on, you have classes waiting!"

Hermione jumped with a little squeak, "Oh no, Ancient Runes," then hurried from the room after unlocking the door.

While Harry wanted to talk to Daphne and Pansy, they hurried from the room before he could say anything, while Ron, Padma, and Susan shared a few uncomfortable looks and headed for the door. The ginger stopped in the doorway, though, and looked back.

"Go on," Harry told him, "Maybe use the chance to apologize to Padma for the Yule Ball. I need to talk to Professor Slughorn myself."

"Er, alright," Ron agreed, frowning at the reminder of how immature he'd been just two years before, but did look down the hall and hurried off.

"So what else can I do for you, Mr. Potter, Miss Sendai?" Slughorn asked, more sedately now that he didn't need to hold up the act so strongly.

This time, it was Harry's wand who shut and locked the door. "We need to talk, Sir."

"I can see that," Slughorn muttered, his face darkening slightly with apprehension, "About what?"

"Horcruxes."

"What?" Slughorn's normally ruddy face turned almost yellow in an instant as he paled. "I don't know what that is, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I've got nothing more to say on the matter, so if you don't mind, I'll have to ask you to-"

As the overweight man struggled to pull himself to his feet, Lyra's form vanished, to be replaced with Lilith's true form, three inches taller still than Harry's even after another growth spurt. "I wasn't asking, Professor," Harry told him quietly, turning his wand in Slughorn's direction and using a mild, silent Banishing Charm to push him into the chair. "I just want to talk. I don't want to know how they're made."

"Dumbledore," Slughorn gasped, "Dumbledore put you up to this! I should have known!"

"Yes, he did," Lilith said, drawing Slughorn's gaze to her slightly pink-tinted flesh before it rose to her violet eyes and seemed to fix there.

"Professor," Harry said, forcing calm despite his own annoyance that things had escalated so quickly, "I'm not trying to be rude here, or threaten you, or anything. I just locked the door so we could talk in private. I need to know what you told Tom Riddle."

"I didn't tell him anything, as- as you'd know if you saw that memory I gave Albus!"

Harry shook his head, putting his wand back into his sleeve to rest both palms on the cluttered desk as he leaned in, "Professor, I'm going to ask nicely one more time. I'll come to your party, I'll socialize, I'll even let you 'cultivate' me publicly if you want, but we need that memory. How many did he make? It's the only way any of us will live to be cultivated."

"He'll kill me," Slughorn whimpered, his eyes still locked on Lilith's, but streaming with tears as his body shook, "He'll kill me if I let you find out."

"He already wants to kill you," Harry reminded him, "and holding your little Slug Club party with just the people in this room a few minutes ago and not with Malfoy, Nott, or a few others would tell him exactly where your loyalties lie if nothing else already has, like coming back to Hogwarts. You've already publicly declared your side, Professor. Help us, so we can end him."

"I... I..."

Lilith grinned, then sent a mental question to Harry, who didn't let his expression change as he replied. Her smile widened, but seemed to grow more cruel and calculating. "I can give you what you want too, Professor, if you help us."

Slughorn swallowed, somehow finding it within himself to wrench his eyes free of the Succubus'. "I- I don't know what you mean," he whispered, staring pointedly down at the floor before slamming his eyes shut.

"You know what I am," she replied coolly, "and what I can do. I know what you've dreamed of for years but been too afraid to try yourself. Well, Master Harry's done the work, taken the risk, made all the payments. If you give us what we need, Master will do everything he said... and I'll do more."

Harry frowned. He knew when he silently agreed what it was Lilith intended, but thinking about her with Slughorn was not appealing to him. He said nothing, however.

Slughorn hesitated again.

Lilith let her wings expand to full size, enough that it seemed they might even be able to support her entire form aloft without magic, and sent a thick wave of pink Fog through the room. Even mostly immune, Harry felt himself immediately grow hard, but Slughorn was nearly thrown back in his chair with the force of his sudden arousal.

"Now that's just not fair," Slughorn whimpered, so quietly Harry could barely hear even with his heightened senses.

"You've always dreamed about her," Lilith cooed, as her body shifted into a human woman's form, one that seemed vaguely familiar but whom he couldn't recognize. "I know her as well as you do, now. Everything you've ever dreamed. I can use my mouth... you've never had a blow-job before, have you? I'm happy to do it. Imagine her, on her knees, servicing you, rewarding you for all you did for her..."

As she sank to those same knees, Harry recognized the form Lilith had taken: the sharp but attractive features of Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Only she was younger than any picture Harry had seen of her, just fifteen or so. Before she became famous, Harry realized, He's been dreaming of her for a while, then.

"A little taste," Lilith whispered, then literally tore open Slughorns trousers and pushed him far back in the chair to access his member, which at least was of average size. Her mouth closed around him without hesitation, but Harry grimaced. "Pet... I was going to ask if I could have you as her tonight, but after watching this, I'm not sure I want to."

"Sorry, Master," she giggled mentally as her work on the old wizard began picking up speed, "But I did just say a taste..."

Just as Slughorn started grunting, less than a minute after the fellatio had begun, Lilith withdrew. "A taste, remember? The information, please."

Slughorn whimpered again, but his response was fast, and he sounded very desperate for more than one thing. "And- and you'll, er, finish? I was so close!"

"And give you every protection we can."

"S- Seven," Slughorn whispered, "He made seven, I think. Something about it being the most powerful magical number. I... I have the memory."

He struggled to move for his wand, but Harry, on the alert, watched as he Summoned a vial from his private stores, using it to contain the single short, silvery thread he withdrew. He handed it to Harry, then Lilith cooed, "Excellent, Professor. Now, I'll finish you off, as I said. But if it turns out the memory is altered again, if it's not the truth, we will know. Then I will come for you in ways you will not like. If it is true, then you will cum for me. In me, if you prefer. So... is it true?"

"It is," Slughorn whimpered again, his hips thrusting of their own volition into empty air, "I swear! Please!"

"Go on, Master," Lilith told him, "I'll satisfy him. It might take more than twice with the heavy dose, but I figured faster results mattered. I'd go straight to the Headmaster with that."

"R- Right. Er, I'd say have fun, but..."

Gwenog Jones' body shrugged as if to say, 'whatever', before she leaned back in with all apparent enthusiasm and resumed the work before her. Slughorn was lost in ecstasy and didn't even see him leave.

(O)(O)(O)

"Yaxley... you had better have a good reason for interrupting my time with your precious daughter."

The hulking form of the girl's father stopped a respectful distance away and sank to one knee, his eyes unerringly finding Voldemort's magically-enhanced member stretching his second daughter's lips and throat as he used her.

The sight might have bothered him not so long ago, Voldemort mused while he ceased his movements and pulled away from where the had pumped into the eighteen year old girl's mouth and moved to sit on his throne. Doesn't seem to now, though... perhaps his effusive refusal to accept her as part of his family any longer is genuine? "Come, girl, don't stop now. Continue your work. What is it, Yaxley?"

"My Lord," the brute-faced wizard murmured, bowing low briefly, "Runcorn and I have both heard rumors we thought... significant."

"You interrupt me for rumors," Voldemort hissed, making Yaxley recoil, though the girl, heavily under the influence of the Dark Lord's powerful Imperius Curse, obeyed without hesitation, scooting over on her knees to suck on him from the side.

"Y- Yes, My Lord," Yaxley admitted, "but we thought it important. It's about Potter, My Lord."

"Speak, then," the pale man hissed, letting his head fall back onto the throne. He'd been so close before... even if it never truly satisfied him, it did feel very good to achieve release, and what led up to it was nice, too. This interruption had set him back at least twenty minutes. Ah well, I can make her jaw even more tired in making up for it. That will work as payment, I think.

"We, er, well, we noticed first that Potter seemed to, well, be different from how all our reports had him acting. We first noticed it at the start of the term, and almost all our loyal children report the same sort of change in their own way."

"So, Potter has finally decided to mature. Interesting," Voldemort hissed, "but hardly important... or unexpected."

"Well, there is that," Yaxley said, his face darkening as he glanced toward his daughter's well-practiced mouth for a moment, "but it's more than just that. Many students, your loyal Death Eaters' families among them, have become, well, more... promiscuous. More than normal, I mean. It seems to have started with Potter. Rumor has it he's shagging at least four witches on the regular."

"Again, interesting, but I fail to see the import," Voldemort hissed. "What is your point? You yourself have access to Narcissa, Bellatrix, your own wife, and if you asked, your precious prodigal here."

Yaxley's eyes widened. That was a prize- a reward, and not one he'd known of. Which meant that, regardless of his words, his Master was actually happy to hear this! He had to capitalize on this good favor, make the most of it. Malfoy's fall from grace had opened up more than one spot to move up in his Lord's inner circle, after all. "There's- there's more, My Lord. It seems that one witch, in particular, has come out of the wood-work. We haven't got a name, something Asian, but her first name's a lot like Potter's mother. And this girl, she- well, it seems she's at the center of it, too. Potter looks to her for a lot, and she's shagging Potter's other friends, even the witch, too."

"Go on," Voldemort whispered, "Tell me everything about this... witch."

Yaxley nodded, swallowed once, then explained, "She's in the sixth year, like Potter and his other friends. Dark hair, we think maybe part Japanese. Has that look, but not real strong. Slender, but, uh, well-built."

"You mean she has a pretty face and a large bosom?"

Yaxley nodded. Showing that sort of desire so openly in front of the Dark Lord might have gotten him hexed a few months ago. Now...

"You may have her, if you capture her," Voldemort told the other wizard, "but I will sample her first if she is truly that appealing. What else?"

"Well, My Lord, she- she knows magic others can't do. There are rumors she's gotten Potter and his friends involved in sex magic of some sort. Rituals... things like some of the old rites used to be able to do, but apparently a lot stronger. And she's rubbish with a wand, otherwise. Never even really completes course-work, and never casts the spells in class. But the teachers let it slide, I suppose. No one's reported her being reprimanded or scolded, not even after a month or more of the term."

"Now that," Voldemort murmured, lifting his lidded, red eyes to look at Yaxley while his daughter continued to work on him, "that is interesting. This witch is magical, if she can do rituals, but does not know how to cast the way we do... Ugadao, Ilvermorny, they use wands or staves. Other schools less-so, including the Asian ones. That may be part of the reason, it is difficult to say without more information. Tell me more."

"We- we don't know a lot more, My Lord," Yaxley admitted, "but with your permission, I had been planning on getting my youngest daughter to, er, to join in on the rituals if she can. To infiltrate herself into that group, since Parkinson and Davis' daughters are useless now."

"Yes... they will be dealt with. Plans are already in the works. Proceed. If your daughter succeeds, you will be granted boons such as I have not even given dear Bellatrix. This information may be quite useful. As it stands now... girl, go please your father with your mouth. I take it you do not object, Yaxley?"

"N- No, My Lord," Yaxley stammered, standing up and taking a half-step back. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't actually interested. She was his blood, after all. But when the pretty witch, naked as the day she was born just eighteen and a half years ago, started reaching into his robes and tugging on his member with a glassy look and a smile, he could not resist.

"When you are finished, girl, it's time to see if we can add a future Death Eater to your womb..."

(O)(O)(O)

"Attention! Attention, students! The Headmaster has asked me to speak with you all this morning to make an announcement! Students, may I have your attention please!"

With Lyra making her usual rounds beneath the table for their slowly-expanding circle of friends, who this morning included Hannah sitting between Neville and Ron, and Lavender beyond Ron with Parvati across from her getting her own brief pleasure, Harry looked up at the first call to find most of the students in the Great Hall that Friday at dinner were too busy snogging or otherwise engaged to pay attention quickly. The lion's roar that blasted out from McGonagall's wand a few seconds later was a bit more effective at getting their attention, however.

The red-faced, clearly annoyed Deputy Headmistress cleared her throat once as she sent a glare down at the entire student body. "Thank you for your attention. Now, as I was saying, the Headmaster has asked me to relay a message to all students of fifth year and above. Beginning tomorrow and for three more Saturdays, each of you will be required to attend a... an educational class on human sexuality and safety practices involving the same."

Harry watched the older woman sigh deeply as the majority of the student body burst into cheers, laughter, or titters of amusement. She let it go on for a few more seconds, but a second lift of her wand had the lion's call go out again. "Ahem. Now, as I have said, this class is required for all students of fifth year and above, and it will take place immediately following breakfast on Saturday, which means it will begin at ten in the morning. Roll will be taken by your heads of house and prefects. If you are not present, you can expect to be disciplined. This is not up for debate. You will be present, or I cannot guarantee your continued tuition at Hogwarts.

"The classes will run for approximately two hours per session, and will primarily be taught by our Staff Healer, Madame Pomfrey. As you may have guessed, we teachers are concerned- very concerned- with the behavior many of you shown lately. We understand that, ahem, hormones are running rampant at your ages. We must, however, urge caution and circumspection. Use approved measures to prevent, shall we say, unwanted occurrences from happening. Or, better yet, refrain from acts that can cause such issues in the first place. If you have further questions about the classes, you may come to me or the other Heads of Houses, or Madame Pomfrey herself during our normal office hours. Thank you."

Harry grinned as Hermione's hurried lean-in to discuss that announcement was interrupted by a very talented set of lips on her own lower ones, causing her words to hitch. "What do you su-sup-supp-pose that was all about?"

"Obvious, isn't it?" Ron, already satisfied himself, was tucking in but thankfully spoke between bites. "The teachers were bound to notice all the students doing... well, what they've been doing recently. I reckon they just decided they could do something about it besides try and give everyone in the upper years detentions."

"That makes sense," Ginny said reasonably as she glanced around the Hall over her shoulder, "It's probably going to be a class on, you know, how not to pass on diseases, or not end up pregnant."

"Maybe they'll try and teach us useful techniques," Dean hissed from nearby.

"Maybe," Harry agreed, "but we already know a bit, don't we? We've had a good teacher."

"Thank you, Master," Lilith whispered in his head.

"True," Hermione said with a blush and a glance down between her legs, where her skirt bulged upwards to follow Lyra's head, but where no body could be seen. "I suppose it's not so different from Muggle schools in that case, we would have gotten at least a basic education about things like that by our age, and usually every year after through the required courses. This is the first year I've heard it mentioned, though. I couldn't have just missed it, could I?"

"No," Ron chuckled, "this is the first year. Even Bill and Charlie didn't hear an announcement like that, I bet. It's probably because, well... you know why."

Hermione nodded as she started nibbling on her lip, a telltale sign she was getting close.

"We'll just have to see how it goes to know for sure," Harry reminded them, "and we'll have to attend, even if most of us are safe from diseases and mostly safe from getting pregnant without wanting it. It's not worth trying to skive and getting in real trouble. On a side note... DA meeting tonight? We need to be better organized about how we're searching the castle."

"Good i- idea," Hermione whimpered, then gasped quietly as her climax finally arrived.

Gods, I love watching girls cum, Harry thought to himself with a smile. It's so sexy.

(O)(O)(O)

The Death Eaters still capable of serving as more than lumps of flesh for the pleasure of his more capable ones were gathered around the long, low dining room table at Malfoy Manor once more. Half of them had a head bobbing between their legs, though fortunately no one engaged dared to give any attention to the slaves servicing them. Muggleborns all, doing their best to serve their betters under the effects (for most of them) of the Imperius Curse. His former right-hand, Mr. Malfoy himself, was adorning Voldemort's own member, while his favorite younger toy rewarded nearby Narcissa for her good work further down the table, hidden from view of most of those present. This was the largest meeting he had had in quite a while, and Voldemort silently chided himself for being so... distracted, lately. He had let his efforts fall by the wayside as his rekindled desires had taken temporary priority. But that was alright. He was... better, now. He could set aside his pleasure, as he was doing now, for the greater good. Enjoy the pleasures of the flesh without being beholden to them... as his followers were doing, too. "So, my friends," he hissed by way of opening the meeting, "we have gathered again. I must apologize... I have been busy of late, and our meetings have been few. This changes now. Several of you who have not been in attendance lately will note some position changes. This reflects Lord Voldemort's current disposition regarding his followers. Note this going forward: continued success and servitude is rewarded. Failure... leads to less pleasant things. Just ask dear Lucius. Oh, but he cannot answer... his mouth is busy, is it not, Mulciber?"

The older wizard grunted and nodded. He might have been ashamed, once, to openly enjoy the touch of another man, but this new Dark Lord seemed to care little for the predilections and peccadillos of his followers. "Thank you for that, My Lord."

Voldemort sent him a wane, somehow twisted smile, one hand waving his wand idly through the air with his elbow on the armrest of the grand chair at the head of the table, while the other fell to Narcissa's neatly-brushed, gorgeous blonde hair. It rose and fell with her, with every stroke she gave his shaft. But again, he was in control, now.

Whatever had happened to him... the effects lingered, but he had mastered them.

"Thus we begin. I have heard your reports of late, there is no need to go over them again. Rabastan, Rudolphus, you will continue working with our allies in Eastern Europe. We will need wands before we move forward. I expect results soon."

"Yes, M'Lord," the older brother, husband of Bellatrix, responded, his voice a low, rough growl, "We'll have them soon. Albania's Ministry wants ter openly side with you, they just don' have the public suppor' yet."

"Good, good... Yaxley. Dolohov. You continue to make inroads into the Ministry. Accelerate your work. Use the promise of our new arrangement to encourage more enlistment. Surely the dark desires of our good public servants can be accommodated by our organization, even if not yet so openly, yes? And who knows, when we rule, my friends... who knows what could be done openly?"

Several faces around the room twisted into dark joy as they shared knowing glances with each other. A culture such as theirs definitely had its skeletons and secrets, and many of them railed at being forced to keep them that way. But if they could act on their desires openly... It would be an entirely new game.

"Constantin, Rembly, Petrov. You will continue watching for leaking information about Hogwarts, using your connections within the Ministry. Do not draw suspicion to yourselves, I still need you where you are. Your positions as international liaisons gives you some leeway, but that information is paramount. We must always be abreast of what that old Muggle-worshiping fool is doing. Of course, if you hear anything of Potter, send it along... but our young protégés have been doing better in that regard, haven't they, Mr. Montague?"

The older man nodded proudly, standing up from his place just three chairs down at Voldemort's right, and gesturing behind him at one of the two dozen or so people who were not permitted at the table itself, but whose presence was required for one reason or another. "My son, My Lord, Corvus."

"Ah, yes," Voldemort smiled again, gesturing at the weedy boy, "You have given us most useful information thus far, and you will be rewarded accordingly. Continue, and so will your rewards. Tell me, Corvus... what do you desire of Lord Voldemort?"

The young man glanced at his father first, who gave him a little nod, then stepped forward again and lifted his chin proudly. He was nervous to be in the presence of his Master for the first time, but it was a proud moment. "I desire only to serve, My Lord."

"Nonsense," Voldemort chuckled, waving away the boy's words, who looked suddenly very embarrassed, "A noble sentiment, but we all know that none of us, not even dear Bella, are here only to serve. So... tell me, what can I do to reward you for the information you have sent our way, and to encourage more of the same?"

"Er... well, there is one thing," the boy whispered, glancing around the room again, "G- Greengrass. D- The Daughter. The older one."

"Ah... Greengrass... Cyrus' older girl."

Corvus Montague nodded, and Voldemort grinned, "It is done, then. When we have taken over, when we rule, she will serve you and you alone. It will be a fitting reward for you and her both, since she has... turned against us openly. As for her father, well... he deserves only one reward, does he not?"

"A slow an' painful deaf," Montague Sr. grumbled. A round of chuckles followed, and Voldemort smiled.

"Yes, that it shall be, while his wife shall join our... support staff. She is pleasant to look upon, no? Now, return to Hogwarts, young Corvus, and know that your reward is coming. In the meantime, I will send you something else. Something to while away the hours until your true prize is given, perhaps. Take care of it when it arrives, it will be difficult to keep out of the old man's sight, and I will not be able to replace it easily."

"Yes, My Lord, thank you, My Lord," Corvus said firmly, giving a low bow, as was proper.

Voldemort was actually impressed, as the younger man stepped back into the shadows and the elder sat down again, grinning triumphantly at the others that surrounded him. He had actually handled himself well, and had barely glanced at Narcissa while she sucked on him. He had self-control... useful. A good sign. "So, for those of you who were not aware of the information young Montague brought us, it is that Potter's new-found ally, the one from across the Atlantic, has been the source of both his... attitude change, and his growing circle of influence. Tremere, Harlen, Gambol, Stitch, Hendrick, and Topher, you will put together a team of unassigned assistants, and track down any information at all you can find on this... Lyra Sendai. I want to know where she came from, her lineage, her grades, anything at all. Bring me results as you find them. Go. All of you, go. No, not you, Narcissa. You stay where you are, my pet."

Soon, the room was empty except for Voldemort and his two most favored receptacles. It was quieter, with both of them now licking him, and easier to think. He still needed more information, that was the problem. He didn't know why their wands had been so... incompatible. He didn't know why Potter was suddenly getting stronger and smarter, though he believed Corvus Montague was correct, and that this new transfer student, barely a witch herself by all accounts, unable to cast almost any spell and barely even in classes, had something to do with it.

To anyone with an inkling of intelligence it was obvious she was not what she masqueraded as... but who was she?

(O)(O)(O)

"Alright, I think this plan should work," a frazzled-looking Hermione said as she leaned back in the chair provided by the Room of Requirement, which had gone above and beyond thanks to Neville. Harry, on her left, was exhausted as well. He and Ron, who sat on the witch's other side, had just spent the last five hours organizing teams of three D.A. members, mostly along friend groups. Their priority, thanks to excellent advice from Sirius when they had mentioned it to the lower-years' DADA teacher, was broad skillsets. One person in each team was designated the "Defender," typically the member with the best Defense scores (excluding the last year, of course), or who did particularly well in the practical aspects of the D.A. meetings from the current year of when Umbridge had been in charge. The other two or occasionally three team members were chosen for either social skill in the hopes that they could learn something new from talking to non-D.A. members, and a thorough nature, which Sirius and Harry both felt was beneficial when looking for physical clues to the missing girls' whereabouts.

Hermione had then taken each of those teams and divided them as evenly as possible by work-load more than area covered, to specific parts of the castle. Groups that could only spare an hour were given a room or two and the halls between them, while the ones willing and able to volunteer more time were assigned as many as ten rooms.

The D.A. had grown so much this year that nine teams were still 'free' to roam the school, assisting other teams as needed if they ran into what Hermione politely called 'interference', or found a particularly troublesome room to search, like the semi-mythical costume room from Hogwarts' long-defunct theater course.

Now, Harry's first close friends were nearly alone in the still cavernous room, but a few stragglers in the free teams were discussing among themselves how best to make use of their individual talents to assist the other teams in locating the missing girls.

"So," Ron asked quietly after a few moments of relative silence, "What do we do now?"

Hermione drew in a breath to answer, but Harry reached up with the back of his hand to caress her neck beneath the voluminous hair and spoke first, "Now we wait."

"What?" Hermione protested, actually pulling slightly away from the simple massage he was trying to give her, "I can't just sit around and do nothing."

Harry gave her a quelling look and renewed the effort of his right hand, "You aren't doing nothing. You are resting and waiting for the teams you just drove yourself spare organizing a chance to do their work."

Ron frowned too, but nodded after a moment, settling back into his own chair to idly watch the three teams on the other side of the room. One seemed to reach an agreement then, and started walking toward the doors, with a few of the others waving goodbye in their direction. Normally, Harry knew the ginger would be the first to slack off, or suggest a bit of fun. But Romilda Vane's 'disappearance' still weighed on him no doubt, making him feel unduly responsible, like Harry, for the ones who were missing now. Add in that both had known about and been with Mandy Brocklehurst but not freed her- even if she had asked to stay- before her brutal murder was even worse.

"Look," Harry attempted to explain, "Something I've learned over the last few years is that the hardest part of leadership is delegating responsibility and trusting your people to do their part. I trusted the two of you since the troll on Halloween in our first year, but you both know I hate relying on you two for help, especially if it puts you at risk. The teachers and Aurors haven't found the girls because the castle is too big, and they didn't have the bodies, the sheer manpower, to search three wings, almost an entire floor, every hour.

"We'll find them, but we have to trust our people. We are doing our part by assigning roles, being here to coordinate, to be reported to. We are leading. Yes, it sucks. But we are best used here. So yes, we wait, and we try to relax."

Slowly, Hermione settled back into her seat and let out a long breath, "I- I'm not sure I can. This whole situation of girls going missing is..." Her voice dropped to a low volume, just above a whisper, "After- after Romilda, it all seems so... so personal."

One of Harry's eyebrows rose at the admission. He hadn't suspected Hermione felt the same way, too, but now that she mentioned it... she had not protested nearly as much as he would have suspected, was almost complicit in keeping Romilda there, hadn't told anyone... He could not recall her ever making use of the girl, unlike Ginny, he, Ron, and Neville (and certainly Lilith), but she had not objected, either. Was this her way of assuaging guilt, too?

Ron frowned thoughtfully, "Yeah, I can see that. I mean, we all made, uh... we all had fun with her and her... talents, but what happened was an accident. One we fixed up as best we could. I get it, though. This is all pretty... close."

Hermione nodded, reaching out with one hand to twist it into Ron's before resting the other on Harry's thigh, "I just... I imagine what I would do in their place." Her voice was so soft Harry barely registered it even from just a few inches away. "What I would feel like, being stunned in the back. Waking up bound, in the dark, naked. No wand. Helpless. Then- then to have someone... use me. Use me when I couldn't fight back. Not like... well..."

Harry grinned, sharing a glance with Ron behind Hermione's head, both clearly remembering their time in the fake Library, when Hermione had received her first set of Runes. But clearly, there was a difference. For all the role-play of that experience, having it happen in real life would be... there were no words to describe it, though Harry knew people around the world experienced it every day. Then again, perhaps it was Harry's recent experiences in a woman's body, or as a woman named Iris, with Ron or Lilith inside her, connecting literally inside herself, in that most intimate of ways.

Having that same feeling taken instead, in a forcible invasion, rather than freely given with trusted friends...

Suddenly, he felt very unclean. There was no other word for it, but the word itself seemed so very inadequate at the same time. I've done that, he reminded himself, With Mandy, and Lavender, and Pansy, and even Daphne to some extent.

Somehow, he must have been broadcasting his thoughts, because from elsewhere in the castle, Lilith's voice responded in his mind, "Every one of those women wanted you without the Fog, Master. Remember it only intensifies what is already there.. Lavender in particular did literally ask for it."

"Maybe," he conceded more purposefully, "but Romilda?"

"Accidental," the Succubus sent back without a moment's pause, "and we undid as much of the damage as could have been hoped for. If it helps your own guilt, think long and hard about how you would feel after being kidnapped and raped repeatedly. Then ask yourself if you think the other girls feel that way, or if they keep coming back willingly. Personally, I don't have to think very hard to know the answer."

Lilith's words didn't completely remove Harry's sense of guilt and responsibility, but he did feel markedly better after the meaning sank in.

While he had been talking to the Succubus in his mind, Hermione and Ron had been talking more verbally, and he caught the tail end of that conversation. Ron said, "I can see why it would stress you out, a situation like that, but you are already doing more than anyone else, more than anyone could possibly expect. And you have to know- well, when Harry was taken last year, a lot of people went looking. If something happened to you, those same people would find you. Harry would find you. I would find you. Between the D.A., the teachers, the Aurors, we'd tear the castle apart to the foundations to find you. You know that, right?"

"Too right," Harry agreed, leaning over to kiss Hermione's temple, which was wet with salty tears. While he was occupied, both of the other teams had left, which meant they were alone. Which meant Ron, of course, wanted sex. But this might not be the best time, so he thought about a careful change, and below them the chairs they had been sitting in shifted into a long, low couch with soft cushions, large enough for six people, and the table before them transformed into a long ottoman. Hermione's papers rose into the air and stacked themselves as neatly as Harry could manage with his own concentration, and landed in the empty spot to his left, while a blanket appeared over their laps, all three of them, and drifted downward to drape comfortably across their legs.

"Wha's at for?" Ron asked, confused, "In case the others come back? To cover up our fun?"

"No," Harry said, rolling his eyes, "No fun- unless Hermione's up for it. I was actually just thinking a cuddle. I think she could use one."

Ron blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him, then smiled widely after a few seconds' consideration, "I like that idea. Smart, Harry. Get comfortable, love, we'll snuggle in."

Still sniffling, Hermione did as Ron said, sinking further into the couch before her boys joined her, one with a head on her shoulder, the other with hers on his, hands intertwining. No one said much for several hours. Instead, they sat quietly, peacefully. Harry didn't even think Ron fell asleep. For once, he was content just to be there, with them, his friends, not doing anything.

It was, in Harry's estimation, too good to last, but nice to enjoy while it did.

Even when the moment passed, he felt that way. We need this more often. There's more to... intimacy, than just sex, he reminded himself as the runner who'd just thrown open the doors and come charging toward them skidded to a halt, though it looks like the peace is over already.

"We, we got somethin' new," Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw in Ginny's year who had been at the Ministry too and survived, gasped as he skidded to a halt. "One of ours, a 'Claw, name's Ed- Edgar- Wallpole, Isabella's his girlfriend. He's brought in a few of his mates to help look too, once he 'eard what we were doin'. An- and one of 'em remembered seein' something, and now Edgar thinks he knows where she might be. Used a fekkin' Pointer spell, and got a ping on something she had with 'er when she was seen last, an earring."

All three of them jumped up, but Harry lifted a hand to the others, "No, you two stay here in case we get more info. I'll go. Hermione, you're the best at coordinating, if we get more before I come back or send word, then Ron goes. One of us has to stay here."

The other two both nodded reluctantly, but resolutely. Harry turned back to the younger wizard, "Alright, were are we going?"

"Fourth floor, right above the Library's where I left 'im. 'E said it was below the Astronomy Tower, where it was pointin', though."

Harry frowned, consulting his mental map of the school, then nodded. "Alright, let's go. I'll get word to some help."

Michael didn't question how, probably assumed Hermione would take care of it, but Harry was already sending out a mental message to Lilith as they started running, the less well-conditioned boy panting.

But he didn't show signs of stopping. All of them wanted those girls found and rescued, and they wanted it now.

(O)(O)(O)

Isabella Ross, half of the subject of so much stress and anxiety within the castle, sighed blissfully as she stroked the rather average penis of the younger student absentmindedly. She had figured out the problem with the Vanishing Cabinet a week before, and had been waiting for him to come back and visit the little hidey-hole she had once used for quiet escapes with her boyfriend. Former boyfriend, she told herself, for he would not want her now. Not that she cared just then. She was happy enough to be Malfoy's plaything. She liked sucking his dick, and letting him rut on her, liked stroking it, touching it.

He had told her to like it, so she did. It was simple, really. Doing so made her happy, it made her feel good, so why shouldn't she?

Like figuring out what was wrong with the Cabinet. He had been so worried and stressed out that he'd had some trouble performing. She had been desperate to help after learning that. He had told her, after all, that he needed her for stress relief and pleasure. And as much as she liked him using her, because he told her she did, she knew the Cabinet still not working created more stress than she could soothe.

Thus, her body leaking his fluids from both lower holes and with dried remnants around her mouth, just as he said he liked it, she had explained the problem and how to fix it.

It had been the work of two hours after that, and now it was done. They'd even tested it, first she and then young Lord Malfoy himself had stuck his head out of the Cabinet's twin in the back room of Borgin and Burke's.

So he had rewarded her with filling her pussy again, and was now relaxing, drafting a letter for his master, not that she could conceive of anyone better than the one who made her feel so... so...

Isabella sighed in bliss again, "My Lord, can I suck on you again?"

Draco looked up from the desk in surprise, then down at her hand, which still stroked him. "Oh, I forgot I told you to wank me. Yes, go ahead, slut. Make sure you drink it all."

"Yes, my Lord!" She dove under the desk with eagerness, the bruising on her legs from the frequent shift in position of no consequence next to how good pleasing him felt.

Sated several times over that afternoon and evening, she had to work a long time to get his pleasure into her mouth, but the aching in her jaw didn't matter next to how good she felt doing it for him.

Shortly after she had licked him clean again, Lord Malfoy stood up from the desk, grabbing Isabella by the hair and hauling her up. She came willingly, her hand already moving to cup his sack and knead it, as she was trained. He liked being worked constantly there, and she liked doing it for him.

Isabella liked it when her Master felt good, it felt good for her too.

He folded the letter and attached it to an owl while she continued fondling him, then sent it out the classroom's only window. 'Classroom' might have been a bit of a stretch, if she were in her right mind, for the teacher's desk faced only four chairs when she had first seen it. Those had been transfigured into the now fluid-stained bed he led her to, before throwing her onto the mattress, face-up.

Isabella did not feel the pain in her scalp from the tearing hairs. All she felt was bliss that her Master liked using her body.

"You might be due for a recap. Once My Lord's reinforcements arrive, they're going to make use of you, too. You'll serve them as you serve me. Imperio."

Isabella felt the magic, the pure magic of bliss, wash over her, and smiled, "Yes, my Lord."

His hand, his smooth, loving hand, moved down to crush one of her bruised breasts, twisting and kneading the whole thing. She liked that he hurt her like that, it made him happy, so it made her happy. He slapped both her breasts then, one after the other, and Isabella smiled upward as he continued to loom over her. On the other side of the room, an older message waited inside a certain Vanishing Cabinet, just waiting for him to shut the door. The one he had sent out was not at all incriminating, he'd been certain of that. A simple message to a certain shop-owner, not even listed by name, who would deliver the hidden message on the back of that message to the true recipient, who would know to close the Cabinet on his end and then open it, and deal with the message there appropriately.

All laid out in advance, prepared from the summer past.

Draco smiled as hurting his pet, controlling her, dominating her, slowly brought him back to full arousal again. Even as pent up as he'd been after being on potions that essentially made him impotent for so long- and curse Severus Snape once again for trying to ruin his family line- he could only perform so much in a day, and he'd used his slut well as a reward for finally doing the job he'd taken her for.

"Maybe I'll keep you, once my Lord takes over."

The thought made her very happy.

"Nah... I'll give you to Crabbe and Goyle. Even if they think I've fallen out of favor because my parents are fools, doesn't mean I'm not in the Dark Lord's good books still. He'll reward me with better. And if not... well, there are other, prettier sluts than you in this school. But at least this pussy's still reasonably good... for now."

That thought, as her Master pushed into her once again, made her very happy too. Anything he said, she would do happily, blissfully. It was all that mattered.

Glossary: