A/N:
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Reminder, I had to break up my document between last chapter and this one. Turns out 1000+ pages (in novel format) starts to slow my word processor down. So we're now semi-officialy in 'part two', But there's not really a break or anything plot-wise. Lol

Chap. 56: Public / Calling Out

"Alright, thank you everyone, for all your hard work," Harry told the worn-out, frazzled-looking group of Dumbledore's Army. They had searched the castle for the fifth time, top to bottom, room by room, and still had found no sign of Vicky Frobisher. "We're putting future searches on hold for now. The Head-" He paused as several people shouted denials, or that they could keep going, that they had to. Once his single raised hand had returned the overfull Room of Requirement to something like quiet again, he shook his head and tried again, "The Headmaster suggested, and I agree, that we've got whoever took her run to ground, but we aren't going to find them like this. We are going to stop ourselves in the hope that whoever did it will rear their head to look around a bit, and then we can snatch them up. I don't like it any more than you do, but it's the right course of action, I think. Don't worry, we'll pick it back up in a few days."

"But it's almost the Christmas Hols," someone in the back shouted, "An' we still don't know where she wen'!"

"I know," Harry returned, his eyes searching the back of the crowd from the now more-elevated podium. It was getting harder to pick out any one person, and he didn't know who had yelled, so he faced what he thought was the general direction and hoped for the best, "but for now we don't have much to go on. Dumbledore also- well, no, I can't tell you that. Operational Security. But he has a plan to find her during the Hols if nothing else. At the very least, we expect it'll narrow down our search quite a lot. And I know you're worried, but he assures me he knows she is still alive.

"I'm worried too. But I'm also worried that you lot have been running yourselves ragged every day for a week. Homework, end of term exams, and now this, too? You aren't doing Vicky any good by dropping where you stand from exhaustion. Tomorrow, don't turn up. We'll meet once more, and probably do another search, right before the break. But not until then. Of course, if any of you hear or see anything, let us know. Spread the word, get help before you charge in like... well, a Gryffindor."

Several of the crowd laughed, most even in his own House, at the well-used line. "I'm as tired as you are. I know, we all want Vicky safe. But we really aren't helping at this point. Just keep your ears and eyes open, and keep yourselves safe. Have a good night."

The meeting broke up quickly, more than a few of the fatigued teens showing how they felt about the situation with grumbles and scowls in his direction, but about twice as many seemed relieved to have some free time, and were already discussing how they would meet up to play Gobstones, or for more intimate activities over the next few days before the Holidays began.

One and a half weeks.

Time was running out.

"Alright, you lot," he said tiredly, running a hand over his face as the crowd continued to dissipate, most of the D.A. streaming through the double doors of the temporary auditorium by that point, "I'm heading up to the dorms tonight. You can join me, or go down to the rooms, you know you can go in whether I'm there or not. Not sure why I even bothered saying it."

"You're tired, mate," Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder, "You've been working harder than any of us. Go get some rest. We'll see you tomorrow."

"He's right, Harry," Hermione said, "but if you don't mind, Ron, would you mind coming down with me? I've been missing my boyfriend."

The ginger perked up, but on Harry's other side as they suddenly found the pressing need to be elsewhere, Ginny and Lyra shared a grin. "What about you, Lyra? Any special plans tonight?"

The Succubus smiled, looking about at meeting eyes with Neville, who was looking over Hannah's shoulder, "I think I'm going to make my way down to the Kitchens, or perhaps the Greenhouses. Last warm night of the year in there, I'm told. Neville assures me it's quite comfortable inside some of them even at night, and there's something he's wanted to try with Hannah since last year."

"Ah. Sounds fun, I think. Mind if I join you in the Common Room for a bit, Harry?"

"Huh? Oh, no, of course not, Gin. You want to go now?"

"The sooner the better," she whispered, leaning into him and putting her arms around his.

The trip was smooth, aside from having to wind their way through a surprising number of their peers who hadn't bothered to even find broom closets or empty classrooms before putting hands inside their partner's clothes or more, but no one was outright shagging.

Fortunately, he suspected, for a few teachers still bothered patrolling the halls at night, even if most of the Prefects used their positions to find private nooks of their own while they should have been working.

Personally, Harry found their patrols more than a little useless at this point, anyway. There were simply too many students getting 'up to no good' or 'letting their hair down' for any number of points-taking to be worthwhile. Ginny, aside from comfortably fitting herself against him like the good girlfriend she was, refrained from getting up to too much until after he had settled onto his favorite armchair by the fire in the Common Room, and merely settled herself sideways on his lap then, nuzzling into his chest a bit.

He was glad for the quiet company, and that most Gryffindors, now that they were in the relative privacy of their own Common Room, were content to leave him to his own devices. No one was shagging, as far as he could tell, though Lavender Brown was occupying herself with grinding her skirt against a seventh-year boy he wasn't very familiar with to the tune of a borrowed Wireless in the far corner.

A second-year boy was fondling himself over his clothes beneath one of the study tables while he watched the action at a distance, but most others were too wrapped up in what they or their immediate partners were doing. Even Fay Dunbar, normally a quiet girl who kept largely to herself even in the dorm she shared with Hermione, was rather passionately kissing a fifth-year boy he did not know at all except by sight, her hand in his pants, and his cupping a firm-looking rear.

And all Harry wanted to do was sit back and enjoy the atmosphere.

It was sexual, yes, a charged feeling in the air he would not have been able to detect, he thought, without Lilith's influence on himself, but it was also muted and tempered by his fatigue. More so than sexual, too, it was peaceful. There was none of the frequent arguing, or fighting over members of the opposite sex, or worrying about what others thought of them.

Instead, his House-mates were simply enjoying each other's company for what it was.

It feels free, he realized, sending a casual glance around. There, too, Parvati Patil was deep in conversation with her twin sister, who had apparently been let through the Fat Lady's portrait by her twin, the pair occasionally sneaking glances and giggling in Lavender and Dean's direction. And Seamus Finnegan was... well, he was probably getting a blowjob beneath a blanket, but it was hard to tell who the girl was. Possibly someone was watching him wank.

"This is nice," Ginny whispered, clearly looking around too. "It's funny in a way, to see everyone being so... care-free, but I like it. It makes me feel... like I'm at home. Like we belong here."

"We do," Harry told her, wrapping a hand 'round her waist and pulling her into him a bit more, "Gryffindors. Beautiful, brave to a fault, and always eager for sex. Right?"

"Too right," Ginny giggled quietly, then leaned in for a kiss. "I don't want to go up to your dorm, but I want to shag, Harry. Can we?"

"What... like right here?"

Her face close enough to his that he could feel the moisture in her breath as she exhaled, Ginny nodded once, resolutely. "I want the world to see me shagging Harry Potter, my boyfriend, my Master. I want them to be so jealous that all the girls want to fuck you, all the boys want to fuck me. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Mm... your idea certainly has merit, Pet. I suppose we can, at least once, and if anyone's bothered by it..."

"They can fuck themselves," Ginny whispered against his lips, "instead of us."

"Yes, that's exactly what I was going to say," he laughed, reaching a hand beneath her blouse to cup a handful of her very firm, perky breast. "But I think you're wearing too much if we're going to shag, love. A good girl who shags her boyfriend in public may as well put on a full show, don't you think? Show everyone your naughty little bits, Pet."

"Yes, Master," Ginny cooed, then stood up, pulling off his lap and giving a decidedly Umbridge-like, "Hem-hem," which made many of the Gryffindors jump in sudden fear.

Ginny did not look at any of them. Instead, she looked only at Harry as she began unbuttoning her blouse, letting it hang open but still covering most of her while she reached up to loosen her tie next.

"Wait, leave that," Harry told her.

Ginny grinned, obeying but leaving the knot loose so it hung lower on her body, the knot directly between her tits. Around them, the normally subdued hubbub of the common room had died away completely aside from the wind's slow moaning through the chimney and the fire itself, which backlit Ginny in a way that Harry found captivating. It almost seemed to set the edges of her hair on fire, surrounding the upper half of her body and head with a golden halo that seemed entirely fitting.

The moment she shrugged off her white blouse, cat-calls, wolf-whistles, and hoots rang out from boy and girl alike.

His girlfriend blushed just a little, enough to tell him and anyone watching- which was everyone- that she heard and acknowledged that all of their eyes were on her, watching her, looking at her naked chest, as she did not wear a bra except on the Quidditch pitch.

"Love your tits!" one fourth-year boy exclaimed from behind Harry, which sent titters of laughter and agreement in equal measure around the room.

"Thanks," Ginny said, glancing over at him, "I reckon you might get a bit more of a glimpse in future. I don't feel like being shy anymore, outside of classes."

"Hear, hear!" Lavender cried, and a moment later, the girl's heavy breasts, bare of clothing as well, framed Harry's head from behind as her own blouse dropped onto the couch next to him. "I mean, I can't go around without my boulder holders all the time, but every once in a while, it's nice to set them free!"

Again, raucous laughter and cheering rang through the room, but as far as Harry knew, no one else started taking off clothing just yet. He honestly hadn't expected even Lavender to do so, for all she was entirely submissive to him in the bedroom. He hadn't even had sex with the girl all that often, but feeling her warm bosom around his neck made Harry feel like a heel for neglecting her. Is that why she'd been fondling Dean...?

No... well, maybe partly, he acknowledged to himself, but now that she's started actually having sex instead of paying for homework help with her mouth, it makes sense she wouldn't want to stop.

"Harry's mine for the time being," he heard Ginny tell the older witch without malice, "I feel like giving everyone a show. If you feel like you don't wanna watch us shag, now's your last warning, you lot! That means you younger years should clear out, too, but I'm not gonna make you!"

To no one's surprise, least of all Harry's not a soul left. He himself at eleven would have been aghast at what Ginny had just said, but he knew full well the extend of Lilith's subtle influence over the castle's inhabitants. Just by being around her everyone grew more susceptible to the powers and persuasions of lust. The longer and nearer one was to her, the more pronounced the effect. Five months of exposure, now, with the summer holiday as a break for most of them, was enough to drive the castle to heights of distraction unless they got off at least daily.

For the Gryffindors in general, Harry suspected it was more like every few hours, and the barriers of partnership and traditional relationships seemed to be largely falling by the wayside. This must be the real reason Dumbledore wanted us down in the other rooms, Harry realized as Ginny began twisting and writhing between his ankles, her skirt still on and swaying with her hips' gyrations, but revealing tantalizing glimpses of her upper thighs and even, as she turned to face the fire, a few of her delicious, creamy arse cheeks. Her dancing was followed by more whistles and howls, but no one seemed of a mind to tell her to stop, or even to say something along the lines of 'stop watching' to what he knew were several couples watching.

And he was ecstatic about it. He didn't care, one way or the other, for privacy or public sex at this point, though he admitted the thrill of the latter. But Ginny seemed to be enjoying, even lavishing in the attention, and he could not blame her. He gave up trying to figure out any other reasons besides the two obvious ones for separating him and Lilith (more the latter for certain) from the student body as much as possible. Frankly, it didn't matter, and the Headmaster had seriously underestimated just how wide-ranging her influence, what she called her Territory with a capital T, spread. Hogsmeade had thirty-six pregnant women in a village of less than two hundred residents at last count, more than twenty times the average for this time of year.

The village was still more than a mile from where Lilith slept, even if she visited it often.

But Dumbledore didn't need to know that, and Harry didn't need to dwell on it. The old wizard might be fighting the influence with sex education classes (finally), and freely handing out prophylactics and charms and so on, but Harry knew the damage was already done. Not that he considered it damage necessarily. Unless one of the girls ended up pregnant (which was happening a lot more often, he knew, through stupidity on one side or both of a coupling), there was hardly much 'damage' to be going on about. An entire generation of students might have lower dowries for the more traditional families, but that was about it.

Well, in theory. Any rumors about one student or another were easily countered with more of the same. So what if one family decried a girl for being a slag? Their own daughters were likely no safer, and therefore everyone was better off just keeping their mouths shut and sweeping the whole thing under the rug as much as possible.

Which worked well in Harry's favor.

Ginny had worked up a bit of a sweat by the time her impromptu dance ended, her skirt now just hanging off one extended ankle, her entire body otherwise available for anyone to see. Then she stood tall, bowed, and bowed again in three directions, accompanied by more clapping, whistling, and hoots. "Thank you, thank you! Now, if you don't mind, I've got another performance to get to. The second act, you know?"

The girl wasted no time in bending down to tug open Harry's belt and open his trousers. He assisted by lifting his hips, but otherwise let Ginny do most of the work as she lifted his legs one at a time and pried off shoes, socks, and then pants, finishing with his boxers. His shirt she left until last, and then climbed into his lap, straddling him while she unbuttoned it as slowly as she had her own, but only opened it to reveal his bare chest before leaning down and kissing him passionately. Her tongue sought his at once, and the sight of his Pet on display for all to see as she moved over him had Harry ready to take her then and there even before they kissed. Feeling her tongue drive into his mouth, seeking and wrestling against his own tongue left Harry panting as she pulled away, licking a string of saliva that hung between their lips. "Harry," she said softly, just loud enough to hear over the cries of, "Daaamn!" and "That was so hot!" from the boys, or "Why can't you kiss me like that?" from the girls.

At least, that's how Harry interpreted the mess. But he wasn't really listening to the other Gryffindors anymore. He was only vaguely aware that Lavender had stood up and vanished from contact behind him as Ginny reached down to stroke his erection with both hands. He watched distantly as several of the girls who had no doubt fantasized about him at one point or another came closer to the back of his armchair, or around into view to get a better angle themselves. An equal number of boys, he saw, came to watch Ginny. And sure, there were probably a few watching both, or the other gender. Did he care? Not really.

So what if some of the boys he thought played for the other team, as it were, checked him out? He was a specimen these days, as Ginny, Lilith, Hermione, and others told him regularly. It didn't stop him from growing increasingly comfortable in his own skin. Besides, Iris' voice somehow rang into his mind, I like it when they look anyway. It's flattering, even if it's you.

Somehow, Harry supposed that was true.

But more importantly, Ginny's hands were speeding up as she looked up at the others surrounding them, "My boyfriend has a huge cock, doesn't he?"

"Sure as hell does," Katie Bell, who he hadn't noticed before, said from behind and to Harry's left, "It hurt like hell when we shagged, at first."

Jealous grumbling made itself known, but Ginny only shrugged, "You know, we aren't exactly exclusive. If you want to shag Harry, ask him. Don't be a coward, don't be a bint. Just ask him. He'll probably give you a good time. He always does with me and Lyra."

"You're shagging Lyra, too?"

Harry didn't know which girl had asked, one of the fourth years he thought, but Harry shrugged, not taking his eyes off Ginny's body as she climbed onto his lap again and started grinding her dripping slit over his length, still pumping the upper half with her hand as the other started playing with his hair. "Yeah? I thought everyone knew that."

"He's a great shag," Lavender announced, "best I've had."

Harry grinned. Lavender Brown had had a bit of a reputation since their third year when she was among the first to develop, but he knew very well that she was still a virgin when they'd done it the first time in the broom closet, on the night he had claimed her as his. Sure, she might've sucked off a few boys. What girl with that kind of rep hadn't at her age? Seemed like very few. But now, he was almost certain she'd been with half of Gryffindor fifteen and up. Something like that, anyway. Hearing her say what Lilith did, that he was an amazing lover even at his age, made Harry feel quite good about himself.

"Damned straight," Ginny agreed a moment later, "You guys want proof? I'm so wet. Want to see me shag Harry right here?"

Obviously, the question was rhetorical.

Ginny rose up just a little, using the hand she'd just been pumping him with to angle him toward her, then rose up higher and higher until he could finally fit beneath her. She was more standing than kneeling at that point, which made several of the others groan with envy of one or both of them. And as she sank down onto him, slowly and gently, Ginny sighed, her arms coming up to fall on his shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck. "Circe, Harry... you always fill me up so good!"

"Look at the bulge," one of the boys whispered to his friend from behind Harry, on the opposite side as Katie.

"He's freakin' huge," he heard someone, probably Parvati Patil judging by the accent, "he'd break me in half!"

"But you want to anyway," Lavender teased.

"Damned straight I do," the other girl replied shamelessly.

Harry only smiled and leaned back into the couch as Ginny started grinding and twisting while she lifted and fell on his rod, almost mirroring the same moves she had used while dancing for them. Only this time, everyone could see her nether lips split wide, stretching around his phallus, being pulled out and pushed in as she moved back and forth.

There was more whispering of admiration or jealousy or both, but Harry largely tuned it out. He knew he could turn this into an orgy with just a few words, but that was not what he wanted. Not what Ginny wanted. Maybe one day, soon or further off, full-on orgies would happen in the Gryffindor Common Room. Probably, if Lilith had anything to say about it, which she did, and likely sooner.

But not tonight.

Giving the others a show or not, this was about him and his Pet.

Harry let his hands roam her body too, exploring the familiar lines and curves, nestling in the nooks and crannies that made her purr, from the sensitive one below her ear and down to the more hidden spots on the inside of her thighs, where his fingers dug into the nerve cluster there almost painfully, but which made Ginny gasp and shudder in a quickly-onset climax mere minutes after she had started riding him.

But her pace did not change, although her eyes grew darker, heavy-lidded. "That was really good, Harry," she said quietly, "tease me more."

"Your wish," he replied just as loudly, and leaned forward to suckle one pink nipple with his lips, then suction it between his teeth and hold it there while he laved with his tongue for a few seconds. Ginny gasped, torn between leaning into the attention and pulling away, caught between equal measures of pleasure and pain on her teat.

The mark wasn't yet fully formed when he released her, but the hickey directly on her nipple would show everyone in about a minute that, even if they got a show, even if they shagged her, Ginny was his.

Even if, when, Ron eventually got to experience her deliriously tight cunt, she would still be Harry's. Forever.

She'd sworn it, and he knew the magic would hold, just as all the rest that Lilith had used would.

Ginny grew faster, nearly bouncing on him now, her movements not erratic but increasingly frantic, until she collapsed against him, quivering and jerking her hips on him in another, even stronger climax. "Damn, tha's two," he heard Seamus murmur to his right, "but Harry ain' done yet. You watch."

No one argued. Harry wondered if, despite secrecy oaths, word had gotten out somehow about the times the Irish boy and Dean had joined them for ritual orgies. Perhaps it was Lavender.

But no... probably people just suspected. That he rarely stayed in the dorms, and had been given private quarters large enough for his initial circle of friends to sleep in regularly while entertaining 'guests' was an open secret, one that Harry suspected the entire school was privy to, even if some didn't believe it.

But the renewed discussion halted again as Ginny dragged her body up and off him, only to turn around and lower herself again, this time using a hand to guide him into her from the front, so both were facing the fire. Her feet rose to the chair too, and she lifted harder, faster, arching her back to push her chest out as she started humping him again, with even more vigor.

"Shit, that's sexy," one of the boys muttered from just in front of her. He was staring avidly at Ginny's cunt, which Harry knew looked amazing stretched open like that.

"I know," he told the boy, "look all you want. Just don't touch tonight."

"Yeah, I got ya," the third-year said, almost slurring in his growing lust as he reached down into his pants to adjust what had to be a most painful erection.

For a moment, Harry debated again just telling him to pull it out and wank to them, to cover Ginny in his seed, but no... not tonight.

It didn't stop some people, though, as the sounds of more people grunting or moaning with ecstasy as they peaked sounded off, one after the other with increasing frequency, behind and to their sides. Harry, encouraged by her own growing lust and desperation for him to finish, reached up to guide Ginny's upper body back with a hand around her slender throat, not quite choking but applying just a little pressure, while the other moved to her clit, which was turgid and inflamed. That, he closed his fingers over and whipped back and forth violently, knowing she was sensitive but not too much for that to really hurt in the throes of passion.

She climaxed again in less than five seconds, screaming out and even spraying a line out onto the plush carpeting and the same third-year boy who had been watching so closely on the pant leg. He grunted, his own pants developing a dark patch on the crotch a moment later, but he didn't stop moving his hand.

Harry didn't blame him. At thirteen, being given a show like this, live, and with permission? He wouldn't have been able to stop, either. Perhaps later shame and embarrassment would hit the boy. But not right now.

"Getting close," he told his lover finally, voice husky and low, "You're so amazing, Gin..."

"I know," she said with a panting chuckle, "but so are you, Harry. Cum... cum in my tight little pussy! I want it!"

It wasn't quite enough to spur him to the edge, but his climax was coming on fast. He had one trick to surely get it over without using his Succubus-granted abilities to pull it out faster, which he wasn't in the mood for. He wanted this naturally, or as much as he could with the stamina and sensitivity runes working almost against each other. This, though, would drive the watching crowd insane with jealousy, on top of everything else, and add a bit more spice to Ginny and his little show, too. "Lavender," he called loudly, "I know you've got a cock in your mouth, but it's my turn! Get over here and clean up the mess I'm about to leave in Ginny!"

There was a loud pop, and then a fervent, breathy, "Yes, Master!"

Harry grinned as several of the onlookers gaped, and Jack Sloper, newly on the Quidditch team as a Beater this year, groaned in disappointment. "I'll be back, Jackie," she told him, then bounded over the couch to kneel between Harry's legs, just inches from where Ginny was still bounding on him recklessly. The sight of his slave-girl there, ready to do her duty and clean up him and his Pet, was enough to tip the scales. He grunted several times, clutching Ginny to him and holding her still while he finally moved, thrusting up and up into her, burying himself past her womb once more as his scrotum twitched and flexed.

"God," Lavender murmured, "I can see his cum shooting up his dick... Master's gorgeous!"

Again, several of the others sent glances at her choice of words, but Harry didn't care. They'd already been told he had shagged her. Now they'd know she was a sub. It wasn't that big of a deal, as far as he was concerned, and he doubted Lavender would care, either.

Once he was done, and Ginny was nearly at another orgasm, he held her still with his cock buried deeply within her, leaking fluids down both their bodies, and ordered, "Get to it, slave."

"Yes, Master," Lavender said at once, and used her hands on Ginny's thighs to lick them both clean over several minutes, while the crowd continued to watch in desperate, randy surprise.

Once the exterior was clean, he slowly lifted Ginny off of him, allowing the blonde girl to clean his shaft an inch at a time with her tongue and lips, too. Eventually, he set Ginny on the arm of the chair, and told her, "Lick what you can so she doesn't drip, too. Make her enjoy it."

"Yes, Master," Lavender repeated without hesitation, and sidled to the side, immediately burying her face between Ginny's legs.

"What the?!" He looked up to see Parvati staring at her best friend, mouth agape, with a seventh-year boy's hands inside her shirt from below, "You said you would never eat pussy! You lying cow!"

"Don't blame her," Harry said casually, drawing much of the attention and at least some of the Hindu girl's to himself again, "she does what I tell her to. She's a good slave. Just ask her. Don't expect that from everyone. Why, Parvati? Did you want her to go down on you?"

The dark-skinned girl turned a few shades darker and she looked away, "W- Well, I... maybe when we were, uh, experimenting... but she didn't do it! I d- er... I..."

"No shame, no harm, no foul," he said, looking around the room, "I don't care which way you swing or don't. If you aren't hurting anyone, it doesn't matter to me, and I'll have words with anyone who gives you grief about it. If that doesn't work, I'll throw spells. You lot know me well enough to know I hate bullies."

No one disputed that, it was fairly common knowledge. But did Parvati really feel left out, even with the attention she was getting from a relatively handsome older bloke? He could act on that. Always wanted twins, and she and Padma are quite the lookers... might have to convince the dear sister that Ron's a changed man, but that shouldn't be too hard once she sees how he treats Hermione.

Once Ginny was through gasping out her fourth orgasm of the evening into Lavender's now cream-covered mouth, the older witch immediately returned to Harry and suckled on the cap of his still-hard penis, doing her best to suck out any remnants of his cum still in there. "That's a good girl," he sighed, then reached over to pull Ginny against his shoulder. "Alright, everybody, show's over. Come on, Lavender, go back to Sloper, he's probably lonely. Have a good night, everyone."

This time, while he and Ginny headed up to his dorm with both of their clothes in arm rather than on, aside from her tie and his shirt, there were no other hoots or catcalls, but a few people did say things along the lines of, "Great show, Ginny," and, "Can't wait for my turn, Harry!"

He was still a bit preoccupied with Ginny's bum as it moved ahead of him up the stairs, still dripping a little from their mutual pleasure. It was going to be a fun night, and not for the first time, he was very glad both of them had Stamina Runes now. She was going to need them.

Draco Malfoy sighed as two tongues slithered up and down his length, cleaning his cock for the third time that day. It was tiring, keeping both Ross, his first pet, and the Knockturn Alley whore who had caught his eye a few days before under the effects of the Imperius Curse, because he had to cast it on both of them at least twice a day to be sure they would not break out. It was well worth it, though, and not just for the sexual satisfaction he got from it.

Ross, though too slender and tall for his true tastes, had fallen into her role as his cum receptacle quite well after their attempts to use the Vanishing Cabinet had proven successful. Frankly, he didn't need her for anything else anymore, but her eagerness to take him in any way he desired was fun in itself. He liked being in charge. It made him feel powerful, like he was supposed to be.

He hadn't bothered to learn the whore's name. She was a few years older than he, probably at or just below twenty-one, but attractive enough, with long, bright blonde hair and curves that would make most muggle runway models jealous. Her twat was a bit well-used, and accomodated him almost too easily, but Draco had been delighted to learn that her mouth was well-trained too, and her arse almost untouched. She had been a bit more resistant to his efforts to control her than Ross had, but once his second cast had taken hold, she submitted willingly enough. Now he just had to keep it on her, on them both.

For three days now, they had been in the whore's tiny little apartment, one of six above six more, below another twenty-four, in a little row-house on Diagon Alley. Likely, it was all she could afford. Draco suspected she was a Squib, for he had not seen a wand on her, which would make sense. Penniless, or nearly so, and forced to sell herself to survive? It fit his beliefs about what a Squib was good for almost too well.

His first act, after wearing himself out using her body (and ignoring Isabelle Ross for the first time in more than a week), had been to toss her home for anything useful. It wasn't much. A basic Potions kit, though more than he'd been able to smuggle from Hogwarts in their flight, and about twelve Galleons in mixed coin, only two of which were gold. He carried more than that in spending cash even within Hogwarts, but it did nearly double their current funds. Her food was running low, now, but that was alright. Draco did not intend to stay much longer.

"All I need to decide is where we're going next, and if I'm going to keep you."

Both girls looked up at him for a moment, their cheeks, lips, and tongues shining with a mix of saliva and his semen, then got back to work without questioning him. "Clean it off each other when you're done with me. Lick it from each other's body."

Neither said a word, neither questioned it, though Ross smiled at the order. Draco couldn't help but grin, and leaned back into the whore's ratty couch and closed his eyes while the two women continued to clean him with their tongues and lips. Once Ross was sure he was satisfied, she pushed the other girl backwards and climbed on top of her facing the other direction, using her cunt to clean the whore's face, then lowering it to be cleaned itself.

Draco, while he watched some of it as they shifted positions, was less interested in that. Watching the girls do things with each other was fun, but he was tired and needed to rest. Without further instruction, they would likely still be doing the same thing after his nap.

But where to go? I need to be sure the Dark Lord got my message. If they don't know I succeeded in fixing the Cabinet, they're far more likely to come after me, and I can't just go home and tell him. He'd kill me for not finishing the job on Dumbledore. Can't leave the country either.

There's got to be somewhere I can go... what about Mum's family's house? No... Snape told the Dark Lord that's where the Order is staying. Can't use that.

Hmm... Ross' family? She's got parents I think. I don't know if I could keep them all under the Curse, but maybe if I take them out of the picture?

... Could I, though? I know the spell, but...

Draco shuddered to himself. If he were honest with himself (something new, but he was trying it out), he wasn't sure. The Imperius Curse is easy enough to do, but I'm not sure I've... got the stomach for the Cruciatus Curse. And the Killing Curse... it's... well... maybe if I had to. But there's other ways. I could temporarily order them to leave, and hope the spell holds a while. Maybe that would work. Damn it, I need a House Elf. Fucking Potter, stealing Dobby from us. I don't dare ask for one of my parents', they would report back.

Fuck it, I'll think about it later. I need to rest.

He didn't notice a thing for several hours.

When he did wake, feeling much better, Draco ordered the women up onto the whore's bed, with her on the bottom, and for them to kiss and fondle each other's chests while he watched. Once that wondrous image had coaxed another erection out of him, he dipped back into Ross first, for she was much tighter, then the whore, and back again, using both their eager holes for his pleasure until he made a mess over both of them. "You know what to do, clean that up," he ordered each other, then turned his attention back to planning in more detail while he watched.

By the time the girls had come to lick him clean afterward, he had a plan. Not much of one, but at least a next destination.

What he needed was more resources.

More money, a larger, safer, cleaner and more comfortable place to stay. He needed more help. And he did know a few half-bloods that had entirely wizarding households that were... vulnerable.

Yes, vulnerable is a good word, he told himself, looking down at the whore who was sucking his cock again, just like this slut was. I can work with vulnerable. And soon I'll have more.

The thought made him hard again, and it wasn't long before he was holding the whore's head in place while he humped her mouth-hole relentlessly, just like he had the first time he'd taken her. It was a heady rush. He liked being in control, and he never wanted it to stop.

It was a feeling Draco knew he would never have achieved while his father and mother lived. Now, he knew he would not achieve it while the Dark Lord lived. At least, not while Draco served him. But it would be unthinkable to just leave. Too many other older, wiser, more powerful witches and wizards had tried, and precious few survived even a year.

He, Draco, was too important for that. He had to live. It was imperative. So he would take what he could from the slaves he had created, take more as needed, and when it was safe, disappear. The orient might be good, he had heard some good things about the witches there, and that Chang bint in Ravenclaw had been attractive enough, for all her slender figure. Bit like Ross, actually. I suppose that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Indeed, he had come to appreciate how her slender body looked. He still preferred a more full figure, but he liked them thin, too, now. "That's it, whore, keep sucking. What do you think you're doing, slave? Get down there and lick her."

Ross hurried to obey, her compliance adding yet another thrill to Draco's day. It was not the last.

"Potter, Sendai, Granger, Weasley, you will stay after class. I need a quick word with you."

The four mentioned students shared a worried look. Professor McGonagall had been as strict as ever, perhaps even more so, in her N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration classes, but this was unusual. They hadn't been doing anything wrong, had they? The stern Head of Gryffindor had barely said a word to them outside of classes all year, after showing Harry to his new quarters.

As the other students filed out, a mix of Houses just like all the other N.E.W.T. courses thanks to the strict qualifications needed, the three actual students and one Succubus slowly made their way up to the Scottish witch's desk to stand in a row, as she expected.

"I have asked for word to be passed on to a few others. I expect to meet with you and those I have sent word to in your... private dormitory, immediately after dinner. I do not expect to interrupt anything except homework. Am I clear?"

"Er, yes, of course, Professor," Hermione spluttered, "What- what's going on?"

Far from acting as if the bright younger witch was her favorite pupil as usual, McGonagall only raised an eyebrow at the question, then said cooly, "I shall tell you when you are all in one place, Miss Granger. Now, go. You have other classes to attend."

Discuss the matter as they might while hurrying on to their longer Charms lesson of the week, the four could not come up with a decent reason for the deputy headmistress to be talking to the four of them, plus unspecified others. It was such a distracting topic that none of them except Lyra, who didn't bother pointing it out, noticed that more than one student was giving their neighbor a handjob or diddling clits throughout the Charms lesson, even if they were paying attention otherwise.

Master must have set something off with his public use of his Pet, she thought to herself, hiding a smile behind a false yawn. It's about time, I was worried I'd have to use Lust Powder in the Great Hall to get them to start doing things openly. Silly Hogwarts rules...

Several hours later, the 'whole crew' were staking claim to all the sitting room available in the common area of Harry's temporary quarters. Ginny was sitting on Harry's lap sideways, Hermione and Ron crammed into the couch beside them with Lyra on the couch's arm next to Harry and Ginny, while Neville, Hannah, and Lavender Brown took up the smaller seats, forcing Seamus and Dean to stand behind them, or mill about behind the couch.

They were both by the fire, chatting quietly while stealing glances toward the girls in the room, when the firm knock on the door made them jump. "That'll be her," Hermione said quickly, jumping up from her seat to hurry to the door nervously.

What she saw there made her pause. "Um... good evening, Professor. Er... this isn't really a good time, um, Miss Greengrass, Miss D-Davis."

"What I have to say may be said in front of others, Miss Granger," the older witch told her, pushing past (rather rudely, Harry thought, but he didn't dare protest) into the room, "Unless you wish to leave them out in the hall, Potter. It does not directly concern them, but I will need a word with them after speaking with you all."

"Er, I guess it's alright," Harry said, putting a hand on Ginny's leg to try and get her to stand up while he pulled out his wand, "I guess we should conjure more seats, or-"

"That is quite alright," McGonagall said, glancing around the gathered group and doing it herself. With a simple wave of her wand, four of the familiar, high-backed chairs she usually conjured appeared between the seats and the loveseat and couch, allowing Seamus, Dean, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis to take seats. The boys, without thinking, took the two next to each other nearer the couch, and the two Slytherins, the only ones in a room full of Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff, shared a nervous look, but said nothing as they went to flank the chair Neville was sitting in, with Daphne taking the seat between he and Hannah.

Minerva McGonagall herself stood with her back to the door, the long wand she used tapping in one hand as she surveyed them with a near-glare. "With the exception of the two Slytherins in the room," she nodded toward the nervous-looking girls, "there has been a marked drop in school performance across the board in this room. I am especially disappointed in your schoolwork lately, Miss Granger. I presume I do not need to tell you why?"

"Um, n-n-no, Professor," Hermione murmured, her voice quiet, so soft as to be almost unintelligible. "I've been, um, d- distracted. I think we all have."

"Just so," McGonagall said, her voice cold, showing no sign of relaxing the pressure she was putting on them all with her glare and tone, "When the Headmaster told me of your change in circumstances, Potter, I expected there would be some... effects. Some 'distraction', as Miss Granger put it, and yes, I could even have predicted the majority of the people in this room right now."

Her steely gaze swept over each of them, aside from the Slytherins, pausing on each teen's own eyes for a moment as if to bore into them in an attempt to impress how deeply unimpressed she was with each ot them. "It seems I underestimated the effect, however. While I well remember the, shall we say, passions of youth, I feel that I should not have to remind you, yet am in the position of needing to do so, that there is more to life than- than pleasures of the flesh."

Harry was quite shocked to hear the phrase come from his Head of House's mouth, and both Dean and Seamus openly snickered, though the rest, thankfully, were able to keep their mouths shut and look contrite.

McGonagall, of course, would have none of that. "That will be a full twenty points from each of you, Thomas and Finnegan! This is not a laughing matter! What you do in the privacy of your own dormitories is, unfortunately, not my purview, as long as no one is getting hurt. Such has been part of the Hogwarts Charter since its inception. But your schoolwork is, and I find that drop in performance appalling. Only Mr. Potter and Miss Granger have even managed to maintain any work that qualifies as Exceeds Expectations, but most of even Miss Granger's work of late has dropped off into only Acceptable territory. Of course, I cannot force you to pass your classes. But I can, as your Head of House, your Transfiguration Professor, and as Deputy Headmistress, remind you that at N.E.W.T. Level, you are no longer required to attend Hogwarts. Your classes can be dropped if you cannot meet the course load with acceptable grades. And if you lose too many classes, your entire tuition may be suspended or revoked. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y- Yes, Professor," Hermione whispered.

Harry noticed her body shaking, trembling, as the Boggart he had learned of in his third year seemed to be coming true for Hermione. She had failed, at least as she would see it, in school. She was being openly, publicly, shamed for not performing at her usual standards.

"I expect better of my Gryffindors," she told them all firmly, "And I suspect, had I not told her I would be speaking to you, Miss Abbot, that Pomona would be having similar words with you, soon.

"Now, Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, I believe Mr. Potter will not object if we use a side-room to discuss your matter before I take my leave."

She did not bother looking to Harry for permission, and no one said anything, no one moved, until McGonagall stood at the door of one of the smaller bedrooms, the door held open, while she looked pointedly between the Slytherins.

They jumped up at once as soon as she looked back at them, and within a few seconds, the door was closed.

"Hermione," Ron said quietly, taking his girlfriend's hand, a gesture that Harry repeated a moment later, "Are- are you alright?"

"No," she admitted after a moment, "No, Ron, I'm not. Thank you for asking."

"We have been slacking," Ginny reminded them all, "So I s'pose we sort of deserved that. But Hermione, that was unfair, singling you out. You know that, right?"

The girl next to Harry continued trembling, shaking like a leaf in a gale, as if at any moment it would tear free from the tree to be lost in the storm. "Hermione," he said, giving her hand a firm squeeze, "Ginny's right. McGonagall had no place singling you out, embarrassing you like that, and I'm going to have words with her about it."

"No," Hermione whimpered, "No, you can't, it'll just get you in more trouble, Harry, I-"

"No," he shot her words right back, looking at her sternly too, "that was not right. Maybe it'll cost Gryffindor a thousand points, but right now, I don't care. That was uncalled for. Anyone who knows your Boggart knows why, too."

"Harry, I really don't think you should-"

Just then, McGonagall came out of the other bedroom first, quickly striding across the room behind Harry.

Throwing off her grip on his hand next, Harry stood up quickly and stepped out of the circle of chairs, "Professor! Professor, I need a word with you."

"Oh?"

She stopped smoothly and turned to face him, "Does this word require privacy?"

Harry glanced back at the others, who looked if anything more nervous, finishing with Hermione, who looked flat-out terrified that he would be chucked from the school for doing what he was about to do. But he swallowed and turned back to the one teacher (aside from Dumbledore, who had only been teaching their DADA for a few months now) he respected the most. "I think you owe Hermione an apology."

The silence, the tension, in the room was palpable.

"Whatever for, Potter?"

"For being rude, for one thing," he pointed out, "pushing past her into the room. For another, publicly humiliating her and calling her out. I know our grades have dropped, we all know you're right to speak to us about that, and none of us dispute it. Right, guys?"

"Leave us outta this, mate," Ron said quickly, "But yeah, you're right, I guess."

Harry watched as the older witch began to fume, though she said nothing. "But singling her out in front of everyone was just mean. You know how she feels about school, and you know full well she still works harder on it than the rest of us combined, except maybe Miss Greengrass and Miss Davis. But you still felt the need to make her feel terrible about it? Worse than she already did just by telling her you noticed her grades dropped? That's not on, Professor, and it's not right."

There was silence again for several long seconds, until McGonagall drew in a slightly shaky breath, "Are you quite done, Potter?"

"I reckon so, yeah, Professor," Harry said, trying to maintain a modicum of calm when he was quickly building himself in to a towering rage.

"Very well. Then permit me to have my piece said as well. Never, in my long career teaching, has a student dared to attempt to reprimand me! You have no right whatsoever to do so, Mister Potter. I have a great deal of respect for what you have done, and yes, the Headmaster has made a great deal of it known to me. I respect your intelligence, your compassion, and your drive. I respect your loyalty to your friends! But I do not have to stand here and listen to you telling me how to do my job in front of other students! Two hundred points from Gryffindor! For the gall!"

She turned briskly and continued storming to the door.

"Lock," Harry said simply, and an audible click was heard. McGonagall's hand did not turn the knob one iota.

"Open the door, Potter. Now."

"It doesn't feel good to be called out publicly, does it, Professor," he asked quietly. "Now you have an idea how Hermione feels. Have a good night, Professor."

He didn't even say the word open, but as soon as he had finished speaking, the door clicked again, the wards the Headmaster had applied obeying his command.

When the door slammed shut behind the older witch, he let out a long, slow breath, and held up his hands to realize they were trembling. They dropped as he turned toward the others, feeling suddenly very faint. "That went well. So, Miss Davis, Miss Greengrass, you wanted to talk to me?"

"No offense," Daphne said smoothly, her own face, like Tracey's, unreadable despite the shock and worry that adorned almost everyone else's at what Harry had just done, "but not in present, entire, company."

"Er, we'll take that as our leave, then," Dean said just as quickly if not quite as casually as Daphne had spoken, "Come on, Seamus. Let's go back up to the Common Room. Katie Bell was saying something about a Reserve Quidditch Team since her Beaters aren't very good this year."

"Better'n las' year after Harry got kicked off with the Twins. Those two couldn' hit anythin'!"

While Harry agreed, he largely tuned out the Quidditch discussion as the two left. Yet Daphne still said nothing, only looked at him with growing, though faint yet, impatience. "Fine. Go on into my room, I'll be there in a moment."

Daphne nodded once, then took Tracey's hand and lead her to his right, not bothering to look at the others before they vanished behind the door as well. Harry stepped further into the room, wanting to go back to sit next to Hermione for a moment, but the spot had already been taken by Ginny and Lyra, who was now suddenly the child-sized Lilith, small enough to fit in the space he had occupied with the petite, athletic Weasley.

No one seemed to know what to say. A long, tense silence filled the room as Hermione continued to visibly hold back tears, her lower lip trembling now even more violently than her or Harry's own hands.

It was Neville who finally broke the dam. "Look, we all know she's right," he said quietly, "we've all gotten too focused on... on having fun, and not doing our schoolwork. But it doesn't have to stay that way. We have time for both. We've been doing our homework, I've seen it. We just have to... not get so easily distracted. Focus more on it, get it done right. That's all. Take a little more time, not- not jump into sex or whatever as soon as someone says they're randy."

"He's right," Ron nodded reasonably, "and I can admit I've been one of the first, most days. I'm sorry for that. I'll try and do better, I promise. Mum would have my hide if she found out why my grades dropped, and even more if she heard Hermione's had, too, because of me."

"Literally, his whole hide," Ginny quipped, "I've seen the knife she'd use in her cutlery drawer. She'd hang it on the clothes-line to dry."

Everyone but Hermione laughed, even though Harry suspected that it might just have an inkling of truth hidden in there somewhere (at least the tanning part).

"We- we just have to do better," Hermione said after several more seconds, "I- I have a proposal. A suggestion. If- if everyone agrees. If- if we don't, then I can't come down here until my homework is complete for the day. Even- even if that means missing out."

"You know we'd never cut you out, Hermione," Harry told her firmly, "even if you arrived late to the party. But go on, what are you suggesting? I bet it's brilliant."

"It's, well, just a simple idea," she demurred, reaching down to pick at a nonexistent burr in her skirt, "It's just... well, I was thinking that maybe if... before we do more fun things, we looked over each other's homework, to make sure it was up to scratch. That's all. But... like, make it a promise. Every day."

Harry blinked. It was simple. It was... probably effective. "Brilliant," he said at once, beaming at the girl and then around the room, "Isn't my girlfriend brilliant? Best idea I've heard all week. So simple any of us could've thought of it, but she did it. Genius."

"Stop," Hermione said, blushing and looking down.

Hannah perked up a bit at what Harry had said, though, and asked, "I know you two are doing things, of course, but... isn't Hermione Ron's girlfriend?"

"Yes," Harry said at once, "And mine."

The blonde girl didn't know what to make of that, it seemed, for she fell quiet for several seconds.

"Don't question it too much," Ron said, standing up and stretching with one arm, the other pulling Hermione up with him despite her protests, "we don't exactly have a normal relationship anyway. What're labels for? Nothin' useful, to me. But yeah, we're both her boyfriends. Have been since last year. We just don't try and make a big deal of it, you know? So people don't go calling her a slag or anything, or accuse her of playing us both along."

"We know Hermione wouldn't do that," Neville said quickly, taking Hannah's hand, "It's- besides, it's not so much different than... than Hannah and Harry. It's just another word."

"A word with significant weight attached, though," Lyra said meaningfully, "And that's alright. As long as it stays between us, I don't see the harm, myself. Just like everything else we do. Only those in the know are in the know."

"Er, about that," Harry said, glancing toward the other blonde in the room, the one who had been thus far very quiet, "I might've called Lavender my slave a couple times last night, in the Common Room. Might've, uh, shagged Ginny out in the open and ordered Lavender to clean us up."

Ron's eyes rolled as Hermione slapped a hand over her eyes, "Might have," the ginger asked, shaking his head, "or you did plow my sister in front of everyone?"

"Er..."

Glossary: