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Chap. 59: Improving Relations

Daphne gathered her nightshirt quickly, threw it on, and glanced once back at each of them, then out the door with a bit of caution, peeking past the door frame, before hurrying out into the main room. Her bedroom door shut softly a moment later, just audible past the one Lilith shut before returning to Harry. "Bit of a sister fetish," Lilith whispered to him saucily, licking her lips, "Not surprising with a cutie like Astoria in the family. She's terrified of the implications, though. Mostly what it could mean for Daphne herself if she acts on her desires, or they both do, when Astoria dies. She'd be even more devastated."

"That makes sense," Harry agreed, letting his eyes look her over. No matter how many times he'd seen it, the sight of the petite form still amazed him, from her perky, upturned breasts to the patch between her legs that still glowed faintly pink in the dim light, and after being used probably thousands of times was still untouched to the appearance. "So, still hungry?"

Lilith nodded, almost shyly, a calculated look he knew would have been used to tease him. It still worked, of course, he was not immune to her charms, not by a long shot. "I used a lot of magic keeping the others hidden and safe while they packed. A second feeding isn't strictly necessary, but it's been a while since I've had you to myself, Master."

"Then what are you waiting for, little cunt?" he asked, grinning madly as he assumed the 'mean big brother' role. "Your mouth and your body are only good for one thing, aren't they? Making me feel good.."

"Yes, big brother," Lilith whimpered, suddenly smiling widely herself, then lowered her lips to his cock and swallowed half his length with a quiet gurgle. He grabbed her head and pushed her further, using his weight as he hunched over to push her completely down on him. Like this, it would've killed a human, but he knew Lilith could take the pain of her throat being stretched and pulled that harshly, if it even hurt.

While she whimpered, even cried out around his cock, Harry suspected it didn't, that she actually felt pleasure from it instead. He knew he did. Then he took her by the head and moved her up, practically masturbating himself with her mouth and throat. "That's it, little bitch," he hissed, "Milk your brother's cock. I know you're hungry for it, little slut."

Lilith's mimicry, as usual, was spot on. She squirmed and bucked, her little body gasping as if to escape the horror of what Harry was forcing upon his own sister, as if she was fighting for breath, but both knew she was still stronger than he. That gap was closing rapidly now, with as long as his Runes had been active and with the depth of their bond, but as far as brute force she could still escape if she actually wanted to, even with the leverage disadvantage.

But her performance was for show, and because she knew that, in the moment, Harry was enjoying dominating her, the role-play of forcing his giant cock down his baby sister's throat against her will, because she had been too 'reluctant' to suck him off. The loud noises she was making as her throat was pushed open and air forced from her body, then let back into the vacuum created by his removal made Harry grin almost cruelly too, audible evidence of the force he was yanking her head up and down his shaft with. "Yeah, that's pretty good, little bitch," he grunted, shoving her down and leaving her there while he flexed his dick a few times in her throat, then yanking her back off and throwing her to the floor.

She gasped there, eyes rolling from lack of oxygen though she didn't really need it, as she sputtered and coughed. He stood over her next, long enough for Lilith to whimper a plaintive, "Why, big bro-" before he lifted her by an ankle to dangle over his head, her body swinging in front of his face.

"Because I wanted to, little cunt," he grunted, reaching up a hand to slap her twat, none too softly but not with any real force. She whimpered again, but Harry had already turned his attention to his hand, which came away wet. "See that? You're gushing for it. You're such a slag, sis. Getting wet while I fuck your face. Well, keep it up."

He shifted his hold then, taking her by the thighs with both arms curled up and lowered her pussy to his face, diving in with relish while she swung around his penis, bobbing and slapping against it for a few seconds until she was able to catch herself. Then, knowing what she wanted, he held still for a moment as she whispered, "Big brother, I... I want it..."

"Take it then, greedy slag," he grunted, relishing in the feel of her once again as her body twisted and lowered her mouth onto him again.

Upside down, Lilith took him in more easily, sinking to his base with the ease of long practice. Harry let her work without taking himself out or raising her, focusing instead on bringing the little folds and clit, just as functional as a human's, as much pleasure as he could for a few minutes. His enhanced strength held her easily, but after a little while more he yanked her up and off of him, then back onto the bed before twisting her in a circle so that her pussy faced him, and diving in with his erection this time. He bottomed out in a single move, and she whimpered, crying out as her arms and legs tried to circle him, but were just a bit too short as he didn't lie against her. "Big brother," she gasped, "I- I-"

Like with Daphne, his hand fell over Lilith's slender throat, but this time it was rougher, his grip firmer, and her face started to discolor. Again, he knew that Lilith didn't really need to breathe aside from to talk, but she was doing it for the realism. He started rutting at once, choking and thrusting into her roughly, and his spare hand slapped one little tit as it bounced, then grabbed and twisted at the flesh hard enough to seriously hurt a regular person. It was strangely freeing being this aggressive, Harry realized, taking out his frustrations in a way that was ultimately harmless, and on someone who enjoyed it, possibly more than he did. It was definitely not a normal thing, even if he did enjoy it whether rough or tender, but every once in a while...

"I love using you as a cock-sleeve," Harry grunted as he pushed as hard as he could to bury himself in Lilith's body, and let his penis grow to Succubus-like proportions and shape, with the little spines and all. Lilith groaned as her flesh stretched, the bulge almost comical as it reached up between her breasts and even a bit higher. Literally lethal on a human, it would pierce her organs that deep, but she took it in stride, gasping and moaning with mounting, insane lust as he hammered down and in even faster.

Suddenly, the role-play was gone, as she gasped with what little air he allowed her, "Master, Master! I'm- I'm cumming, Master!"

It was too much for him, too, and Harry unleashed all his pent-up fury at being unable to stop Draco from escaping with Isabella Ross, at being unable to find where Nott had taken Vicky Frobisher, at what he'd done to Romilda, and how he had failed to save Mandy when he had the chance into Lilith's body, which desperately clung to him as it accepted everything in a flash flood of his cum.

When he was done spurting, he collapsed onto her, panting as desperately as he had the very first time they'd had sex, before she had revived his cock with a kiss and done even more. "Thank you, my love," he whispered into her hair and neck, "I..."

"You needed it, I know, Master," the Succubus said softly back, "Thank you for blessing me with your anger. I needed it, too. I..."

"I know," he replied after she trailed off, "I feel it. I understand. You don't have to say it. It'll only make things harder if... when..."

She nodded, and for the first time in a very long time indeed, the Succubus shed real tears. Not because of any pain that Harry had inflicted (there had been only pleasure for her, despite the harsh treatment, after all, doubled because she felt his and hers in equal measure), but because she would miss him, miss their connection, when it was all over, too. But she still could not say it, not as he had, and mean it.

She did.

It was obvious to her, the creature of emotion and passion that she was, but actually saying the words, even if she'd done so before, was impossible in that moment.

But he still knew. Her loving Master always knew how she felt, just as she did with him. That was yet another reason to weep, even as she clung to him so tightly.

Greeting the others as Lyra once again about a half-hour later, their mutual tears kissed away by the other and after 'bathing' Harry with her tongue once more (and, of course, siphoning his leavings from both girls and herself away for her people and herself), was a little awkward for Harry.

Mostly because he had almost forgotten, in the moment, that the Slytherins were staying in the other rooms, not his closest friends.

Thus, he was shirtless, and once again Astoria Greengrass stared, pink-faced, while she ate the elf-brought breakfast beside her sister, Tracey, and Pansy.

"Er, good morning. Sorry, I- I'll get a shirt."

"Oh, don't bother, Potter," Pansy snickered, "Not like I mind seeing it, and frankly, Astoria could use a bit more worldliness."

"Stay out of it," Daphne grumbled, but it sounded like an old argument to Harry, so he didn't bother getting involved. Instead, he only turned, intending to enter his room again to find Lyra already there, holding one out with a pleased smile. "Er, thanks. So. A lot to do today?"

She shrugged, "Classes, of course. But it's Friday now."

"And a Hogsmeade weekend," Astoria chirped around a mouthful of buttered muffin.

"Ah, that's right," Pansy replied, "We should go. There are a few more things I need for Yule."

"Hm, it is the last one. It's hard to believe the term ends in three days."

Harry groaned as he sank into one of the chairs across from most of the girls and next to Pansy on the left, while Lyra took the right and picked up a few things to nibble on herself, "I'm going to be so busy."

All of them except Lyra, who already knew his schedule probably better than he did, looked up.

"I haven't got my invite yet," Harry explained, "but most of you know Slughorn's planning a secret party before school's out. I... sort of promised him I'd attend. Did a deal, you could say."

"I was the one who did the deal, if you recall, Master," Lyra added, making the other girls turn to her, and Astoria blush as she remembered exactly who the attractive girl was from their summer meeting.

"Well, yes, I suppose," he rolled his eyes at her teasing, which made the Succubus in disguise smile even wider, "but I don't know which night that is, Saturday or Sunday. Could even be Monday. I don't think tonight. Plus the Hogsmeade trip, and I don't know who I'm taking-"

"You are taking me," Pansy said firmly, "We've already discussed it."

One of Harry's eyebrows rose, and Pansy had the decency to look up at him a bit sheepishly, "Er, if- if that's alright, I mean."

"I do have a girlfriend, remember," he said, "but no, I suppose that's fine. We can go together, Ginny would probably appreciate some time to hang out with her year-mates, and Hermione and Ron are happy together too."

"You're such a slag," Astoria added, a bit unnecessarily, while looking at Harry. "Exactly how many girls are you shagging besides my sister?"

"Astoria Helena Greengrass! That is not acceptable!"

"Mum would've asked," the younger girl said with a frown at her sister, not rising any further to the provocation.

"Our mother would most certainly have not! And if she had, it would not have been like that!"

Harry could not help but grin, watching the byplay. Their dynamic was so sure, so casual, so open, and yet so different from any of them in the Weasley family that it was fascinating to him, an only child who'd also been orphaned and had no healthy sibling-style relationships to look to besides his ginger clan. While he watched the two argue, Astoria with surprisingly cool logic and her older sister with growing frustration that quickly caused several cracks to appear and grow in her formal veneer (a feat Harry would love to learn to replicate, he knew), he counted.

It was a lot, by this point. He was probably turning into a bit of a slag. More or less in order, it was Daphne, Lilith, Hermione, Cho, Marietta, Pansy, Ginny, Alicia, Hannah, then the Muggle girls, Penny, Jill, Sunny, Chelsea, and Mrs. Granger. Fleur, Romilda (so many times!), Lavender, Mandy, Tracey too, how had he missed her? And Katie, too. Was that everyone?

"Twenty," he said, counting again on his fingers while the girls looked at him, going through the full set twice, "Yeah, I think that's right, an even twenty girls I've been with. Well, I'm- I'm not shagging them all now. But that's my list so far."

Pansy's eyes seemed like they were torn between widening in shock and narrowing in displeasure, but eventually she growled, "I believe she asked how many now. How many are you shagging still, Potter?"

He sighed, "You know it doesn't matter. Succubus."

"It matters to me."

He shrugged, "Alright. I'm not naming names, even if you can guess most of them. One of them is... a bit older, so not while in school. Not sure about during the hols, so I'm not counting her. "I think... eight. Yeah, eight, on a regular basis. Occasionally there are others."

"You really are a slag," Astoria exhaled breathily, sounding impressed more than anything. "I think if I ever had eight blokes in my life my mother would rip out my heart or something."

"She most certainly would," Daphne tried to protest, but her little sister only rolled her eyes.

"You aren't one to talk, shagging a bloke when you're a witch's witch through and through, and with your girlfriend no less."

Daphne spluttered, but Harry only chuckled again. "Come on, you lot, best get through the showering process. There's only two, and we have classes."

Harry, thankfully, beat them to it, taking the common loo before Daphne and Tracey could get in, if only because they apparently wanted to do it together. It wasn't a luxury they normally had, being pressed for time as they often were in the morning.

And Astoria and Pansy, well... Harry heard that argument even after he'd left the suite, fully dressed and ready to go. At least Lyra had left him to it, this time, even if he wouldn't have minded pressing her up against the tiles for a while. He did kind of want to hurry. Potions, even under Slughorn, was a bit of a chore. He could use the time to set up.

Harry was grateful for the time as he was the first in line this time, which let Slughorn, who had been in the Great Hall eating until the last moment, to invite him inside with a sort of wary but pleased grin. "Been meaning to find you, Harry, or pass on a message. Oh, leave it open, the others won't be long, I expect. You- you said you would come to my parties, for... for that er, favor I did for you."

Harry couldn't resist needling the man, especially with the door open. "Lyra's favor wasn't enough? Oh, I suppose I did agree to it. Alright, when's this secret party? Where?"

"Tomorrow night, after the Hogsmeade curfew. 'Round eight, let's say, things should be in full swing if you want to show fashionably late. We're using the small auditorium a few doors down the hall, already got most of the decorations up if you want to take a gander after class," Slughorn said exuberantly, any nerves he had felt over the last few weeks of classes after Harry and Lyra had discerned his weakness for a certain very famous witch in her younger years, and used that to get a certain memory that Dumbledore had asked them to obtain, long forgotten.

"I'll be there," Harry nodded, "Do I need a date?"

"Oh, yes, anyone you choose," Slughorn said, suddenly a bit more pale, "Er, p- perhaps not, um, Miss Sendai... You understand. Memories."

Harry did not want to think too hard about what the overweight old man, rounder than even Vernon Dursley if a bit more healthy anyway, might have gotten up to with his attractive pet's disguise as a younger Gwenog Jones, so he ignored that line of thinking completely and simply nodded, "Of course, sir. I'll find, er, someone. Could've used a bit more notice, but it's fine."

"Well, you know, secret party and all that," Slughorn coughed, "you're welcome to come stag if you wish. Should be plenty of witches to chat up, eh? Gwenog herself is coming, you know..."

"I think you should talk to her, but maybe I'll bring Ginny. Gwenog's a personal hero of hers, you know."

"Ah, yes, I detected a certain... fire in her eyes once when I mentioned the Captain, heh, heh... well, ah, here we are, welcome, welcome Miss Greengrass. Have a seat anywhere... not sitting with Potter today?"

"No," Daphne said coldly to the Professor who was temporarily her Head of House, but then immediately sent a softer smile to Harry as she turned her back on the older wizard, and walked past his central place to sit two desks behind him, followed by Pansy.

The day went most smoothly, but Harry found himself distracted by asking several of his friends who would prefer to go. Ginny had made the unfortunate decision to decline her own invitation in advance, as she had claimed the need to pack and the desire for a quiet evening after the busy Hogsmeade day, so Harry hadn't even bothered to mention Gwenog Jones' appearance. Not to be bitter, but he truly did think Slughorn might try and monopolize her time anyway after the experience Lilith had given him. Besides, there would be other chances, other parties.

Perhaps I'll invite her to a Yule holiday next year. Her and Krum, famous Quidditch players for some fans to fawn over... wonder if she'd accept?

It was an idle thought, one that made Harry digress for a moment into wondering if he would even be alive for the next Christmas holiday, but for once he was able to push down that line of thought easily rather than wallow in it. Hermione too had turned him down for the same packing reasons, but also preparing a gift for he and Ron that she was strangely tight-lipped about. Neville was spending the entire day with Hannah, so the blonde was out, and Susan, who he had considered after, would be leaving the school after classes that day thanks to her Aunt's influence and an upcoming vacation.

Lavender would be packing too, and, she whispered to him, "Licking Parvati's beautiful pussy until it aches for more, to make up for lost time," since they wouldn't be together over the holidays aside from on Boxing Day. Which basically left him with the Slytherins. But being friends with them more openly was one thing. Going to a party with them, one where several well-connected people from around the continent even might see them? That was a whole new layer of danger he did not want to bring down on their heads.

Harry sighed, just as a butter-yellow canary flew through the hallway in the west wing's third floor, going over his head with a chirp.

A sweet-sounding giggle made him look up after ducking, "Almost got you, Harry."

"Oh, hey, Luna. I haven't seen you around much this year. How are you doing?"

The blonde shrugged. It was true, outside of the D.A. Meetings, even if there had been a lot, they had not talked much. "I suppose I'm alright, if a bit lonely. How are you?"

"Well, I find myself in need of some help, actually," Harry said, swallowing down the sudden lump in his throat. Why should he be nervous now, of all times? "I was wondering if you- could, er, help me with it."

"Of course, Harry," Luna said seriously, hopping off the windowsill she had been sitting on and dangling one leg out carelessly, despite the cold weather, and standing before him. "What can I do for you?"

"I, er... sorry, this is harder than I expected. I..."

"Ah, the nargles again."

He nodded dumbly, feeling quite bashful. "I... well, Slughorn- Professor Slughorn- invited me to a bit of a party tomorrow night, after Hogsmeade. I was... er... well, wondering if you'd like to go with me. As a friend."

He said the last part without meaning to. Luna was odd, though cute, and attractive in a strange sort of way, almost like a flower-power hippy, but magical. He adored her, but this... a date? It was almost too much.

"That depends, I think," Luna said, tapping her jawline thoughtfully, "Does being your friend have benefits?"

"Er... I think so? It comes with risks of course, I mean, you know me. You remember the end of last year, but-"

"Then I'd love to go to this party as your friend-date, Harry Potter. Meet me... hm... how about in the entrance hall at eight-thirty?"

"Er... sure," Harry heard himself say, completely confused.

"Excellent. Wear something... oh, you can pick. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

Then she was gone, hurrying with more alacrity than he would've guessed but not quite jogging down the hall in the direction of the Ravenclaw's tower.

"Strange girl," he murmured, finding himself smiling at her charm all the same. This was going to be fun, but entirely unconventional. "Bit like Luna herself, then," he decided, the smile widening. Very fun.

It didn't even occur to him that this was the third time Luna had asked him if they were going to have sex.

Not yet, at least.

After all, as she switched to skipping quickly down the halls once she was out of sight, the happy Ravenclaw girl had tried the direct route. Subtlety, it seemed, was the way to go. At least this time.

He had agreed, after all. Now she just had to make sure he stuck with it!

Luna was going to have a great time, she was sure of it. Even if the party itself promised to be nothing but boring. The after-party... well... who knew?

Harry entered the Gryffindor Common Room after dinner alone. The others, Lyra included, had come up together a bit earlier, but he had remained to follow behind the cluster of Slytherins that now sat isolated from the rest of their House by at least a dozen feet. He had wanted to make sure they reached their new quarters safely. There hadn't been any issues, for which he was grateful, but Harry hadn't bothered to follow them inside. He would likely sleep there, and new that Pansy wanted some of his attention too, but it could wait until Saturday, or at least later that night.

He hadn't seen his other friends in a few days, not since Ginny had shagged him in front of everyone after putting on a strip-show.

There were a few friendly calls and waves as he stepped through the portrait hole, half-visible, the Invisibility Cloak the entire House knew he had now being rolled up impossibly small and stuffed into his trouser pocket. "Hey, everybody," Harry said with an easy smile, then paused mid-step.

They really had started something, it seemed.

To his right, two seventh-year girls writhed together, half-dressed and humping each other's legs, in the corner near the portrait-hole. Across the room, a fourth-year girl had her legs spread as a third-year ogled her, wanking madly, as the girl's tongue mingled with another boy's.

No one else was actively doing sexual things, but two of the other girls weren't wearing anything on their tops, breasts on full display, and only one was wearing a shirt, a shy-looking first year he'd never met, who hadn't anything to show anyway. Even a second-year girl was going around shirtless, though she had a training bra on.

The boys weren't much better, shirtless or with boxers alone for the most part, and more than a few sporting erections, not a small number playing with themselves even while working on homework.

He made his way through and up to the boy's dorm to find Hermione there, on his bed, with Ginny on Ron's, both of them being filled by Seamus, Dean, Ron, Neville, and Ritchie Coot, the fifth-year, who was slamming into Ginny's tight pussy with gusto. His face was transported, eyes nearly rolling back in his head, as if this were the luckiest night of his life.

Maybe it was.

Harry only smiled, watched them for a few seconds more, then turned and went back down the stairs. Not much had changed in the common room, but the sounds of sex occurred in nearly every dorm he passed except the first-years'. A part of him knew it was a bit weird for the twelve- and thirteen-year olds to be actively doing that sort of thing, but at the same time, as long as they were careful (and he hoped they were), it shouldn't do too much lasting damage. Right?

Satisfied that he'd made an appearance, Harry was about to leave when he literally walked into Katie Bell. "Oh, sorry," he said quickly, stepping back and holding the Fat Lady's portrait open so she could pass.

Only she didn't.

Katie instead took one look at the Common Room, then turned around and started walking back down the hall. With a frown, Harry hurried after her, not bothering to call out. She heard him, he wasn't exactly being quiet. Instead, when he caught up, the wizard only fell in step beside his friend. She didn't say anything, only kept walking down the stairs, through the halls. Past the Entrance Hall and Great Hall, where a few stragglers like Crabbe and Goyle still stuffed their faces (and maybe someone was getting a handjob beneath the Ravenclaw table, it was hard to see and they were moving quickly), then out into the grounds.

A minute later, Harry realized exactly where she was going, and thought he could have predicted it. The Quidditch Pitch.

Katie still hadn't said a word as she entered the Quidditch locker rooms, went to the girl's side, and then spun to pull him into a strong embrace. Harry, surprised, was a few seconds responding, but he held the slightly older witch tightly once he had. "Katie? What's- what's wrong?"

"I miss them," she sniffled, surprising him again. "Alicia most of all, but Angie and Fred, George, Lee... I miss being touched. I... I don't think I want to marry them, though."

"Ah."

There wasn't much he could say, especially not in the spur of the moment. He'd been so surprised by her admission that the entire rest of the Quidditch Team he'd known for most of Gryffindor, sans Oliver Wood and himself, had been plotting to engage in a polyamorous marriage in some African country where that was still legal, and then just... be together, for the rest of their lives.

It was still a bit of a stretch to imagine the normally shy Katie, or the girl who had literally sold her body for spending money in Alicia, before she'd been murdered by Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic, had been with the Weasley Twins far more than the one time he'd been with her. Or that Lee had, too. Less strange to think about were the three Chasers being intimately involved. He, like most males in Gryffindor, had fantasies about the Flying Foxes of Gryffidor.

Truth be told, when Katie had mounted him on the stands at the start of the year, it had been a personal dream come true for Harry. But this...

"Talk to me," he said quietly after a few minutes of her sobbing into his chest, "Tell me what's going on, all of it. It'll help."

As she continued to sniffle, he moved them slowly over to the nearest bench and sat down, pulling her into his lap almost like a child, though she was as tall as him. Somehow, while he'd never been good with crying girls, Katie made sense to him. He didn't know exactly what was bothering her, or he wouldn't have asked, but she didn't make him want to flee in terror.

Maybe he was growing up. A little, anyway.

"I said," she sniffed, "I'm... I don't love them. I want that, I want that... togetherness, the bond, but... I don't love any of them except as friends. The sex is fun, was fun, but it wasn't... It wasn't special. I always thought it would be special, you know? Like I... romanticized it, or... I don't know. Maybe I'm being silly."

"It's not silly to want love," Harry murmured, pulling her head against his for a moment, "Nor is it silly to think sex can be special with some people and not others. That's... the daily reality for me."

"I heard about her, your slut," Katie whispered without heat, "the one who they say is shagging you every day. And that she got Hermione and Ginny to do it, too."

"She would be proud to hear you call her that, but she's a Succubus, not a slut. And I like to think I had something to do with the other girls."

"That's... kinky."

"Tell me about it," he chuckled, "but I'm not here to talk about me. I'm here to help my friend, who's upset."

Katie didn't say anything for a few seconds, but almost at once she pulled away, sliding off his lap to sit next to him, but facing the other way on the narrow strip of wood. In profile, he realized once again just how classically beautiful she was, with her faint Mediterranean features and olive skin, but crystal clear green eyes, framed by silky, wavy brown hair that whipped in the wind as she flew circles around their opponents, almost as well as Ginny. "My dildo's just... boring," she started, ticking problems off with her fingers, "it's too small, and the enchantments are wearing off. I don't know how to fix them. I haven't had a real penis in me since we- since the start of the year. Ginny Weasley went down on me a few weeks ago, and it was great, but I want a dick too. Sometimes, anyway. And she wouldn't let me return the favor, which is just rude."

Harry snorted, amazed that he was having a frank conversation like this with his Quidditch teammate and current Captain in the locker rooms. About his own girlfriend, no less.

"I thought it was a bit weird, you know, since she's seeing you, but she said you wouldn't care so I didn't think anything of it, especially after... that night. God, she can eat a pussy."

Harry grinned, grateful that his experiences as Iris confirmed that very well, but said nothing.

"On top of that, my parents want to flee the country. Dad's scared the- the bad guys will start coming after people soon, and it looks like they will, but Mum doesn't want to go. Doesn't want us to leave in the middle of the school year. My brother's in Hufflepuff, you know? Third year."

"Ah, didn't know you had a brother. Cool, though. I like 'Puffs in general."

She smiled, "Aren't they nice? Leanne's a 'Puff, too. But she won't eat a pussy, straight as an arrow. We tried that once, she wasn't into it at all. Biggest fight we ever had."

Harry snorted.

"And what would she do if we left? She's the only Magical in her family, she looks to ours for help and understanding. Her own parents would be outta luck, especially if the Death Eaters came calling because she's a Muggleborn.

"On top of that, I don't know if I can get a job in Britain even if the Dark Wanker gets tossed in some heroic fashion, because of all the... bigotry. I hate it. And I don't have any real skills, I'm not good at anything except painting and flying, but all the Quidditch teams are looking for more talent than I've got. I'm good for this," she said, waving a hand around, "local leagues maybe, but none of the pro teams. I'm going to be an amateur at best."

Harry wanted to argue, but he knew deep down she was right. Katie Bell was a damned good flier, but after having watched the World Cup, he knew she wasn't that good. No one at the school was, except maybe he and Ginny.

Objectively speaking, of course. Wood had been great, and now that he was on the Tutshill (Harry thought) Reserve Team, that was it for a while.

Even Angelina, the better flier out of all last year's team besides Harry again, wasn't going pro.

"Worst is just that I... I am alone all the time. I see everyone hooking up, but I'm... not interested. I want a dick, I want to get licked, yeah, sure, but I want... I want a connection," Katie almost whined. "I want something real. My friendship with sex was great while it lasted, with the others, but I can't... there's just no way I can keep doing it. And I don't know what to do. I don't want to fuck just to fuck. But I hate dating, and flirting is the worst."

"Well, I hate to say this given what you've just told me, but I do have a solution for you if you're interested," Harry said after it became clear she was done talking.

"What's that?" Katie asked, leaning back onto her arms, almost balancing on the narrow bench. "Shag you again?"

"Well, in part," Harry said seriously, making her blush and look over at him in surprise, "I told you I was willing if you wanted to again, remember? You're... I mean, I'm not in love with you. But I had fun that night, and I thought you did, too. I know it isn't exactly what you're looking for, but... my friends and I, we... sorta have that same sort of... group dynamic. Thing. Only there's more of us."

Katie blinked. Then gave him a shrewd sort of look, "Name a few."

"You know the obvious ones," he told her, "and I don't shag and tell, I keep telling people that. Literally two people outside of the locker room know we did it, and one of them smelled your arousal and put that plus the scent on my- on my dick together. Succubus fuckery."

"I see what you did there," Katie snickered, then rolled her eyes and threw her head back to hang far enough that her mid-length hair almost dragged on the tile floor. "I'm not saying no. But I need a few names. Surprise me. I want veto power on who I fuck."

Harry grinned, "Alright, so, pending a few particular people, you want in? Just to have sex when you want, to be part of a group? And no strings, so if you want out, you are out?"

"Yeah, and of course I don't blab, either."

"Again, not naming names. Three Slytherins, and counting. Two Ravenclaws thus far, and one 'Puff, with another likely by the end of next summer. Or more. Mostly us Gryffs, of course. Easier access. Uh... two people in my year."

"Granger, and Patil. No... Brown."

Harry grinned, but neither confirmed nor denied.

"If it was Patil, she wouldn't have been whinging about it for weeks. Hm... Cho and Marietta. Too bad she's gone, that chick was hot."

Harry had to agree, but said nothing. It hurt, still, a little pang as he mourned his dead crush just a little more, but there was no great hurt, no hole in his heart, and he didn't get another flashback of her small smile as her already mostly-dead body flew toward him at lethal speeds.

"And for the 'Puffs... Abbot's been hanging out with Longbottom a lot. Her?"

Again, Harry said nothing.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, "Where and when?"

"Whenever you want," he told her, "No commitment. Just, uh... well, ask one of us. Girls or boys. Ginny's the most happy with female company, so if you want her to eat you out again, I'm sure she'd be happy to. Or Lyra."

"That cunt," Katie chuckled, "Rumor has it she's blown- wait... wait a fuckin' moment. Is she the one? This Succubus of yours?"

"Not her real name of course, but yeah. Why, surprising? I bet half the rumors are false though. At least. She mostly works through dreams, from what she tells me."

"Little slut... here I thought I was special," Katie laughed, rubbing a hand down her face, "I've been dreaming of her with a cock, fucking me in the ass for weeks. She's been doing it? Little bitch!"

"Well, if she has been feeding you the same dream for a while, likely she wants to do it," Harry told her reasonably. "Maybe she wants you to join us?"

"I already said I would, Potter," Katie reminded him with a side-long glance, "but I reserve the right to refuse whoever."

"There's consent or no contact," he told her, "If someone says no- they don't necessarily have to say yes, but have to be conscious to refuse- you don't touch them. They don't touch you. Like, if I put a hand on your shoulder and dipped a little low, and you said stop, I'd stop. We all would. But if you sigh and lean into it, maybe lower your collar a bit, that's a 'yes' to most of us."

"Fair enough. So... no other rules?"

"Polite society? Shag who you want, but don't go spreading shit. What happens in our group stays there. If you want more, we can discuss that later. If you decide you don't want the casual thing, if there's no connection and it's bothering you, then stop. No questions asked. If you find out this is what you really want... well, give the word. To me, this time, not the others."

Katie nodded. "Alright. Well... as much as I'd love a good shag right now, the wood I want between my thighs is a broom. Wanna go for a fly?"

Harry glanced at his watch, then nodded. They had a bit of time before dark.

Even if it was a bit after when they entered the locker room, and Katie pulled him, with a knowing grin, into the showers as she removed her clothes with the other hand.

Brief, perhaps, but the interlude with her was pleasant enough, and left her satisfied. At least for a while.

As usual, Harry woke entirely too early for most students of the castle to compete with, with Lilith sucking on his morning wood. He let her go on rather than use her pussy or arse because he was already so close to orgasm thanks to her using the form of the strange, inner-tentacled creature from her home world that was so wildly stimulating to get him off.

After he'd climaxed again, Lilith patted his cock with a grin, then changed back into Lyra. "I'm going to go set up a little something for the holiday. A present for Ron, if he can get to your Godfather's house without the rest of his family besides Ginny there."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "A present?"

"Runes," she clarified, "He's still not gotten his second set, remember?"

"Ah. Yeah. I can see why he was nervous. I wouldn't want his cum on me, either."

"But, as Iris," she reminded him, shaking her arse a little as she headed for the door, giving him a saucy wink over her shoulder.

"Good point. Alright, I'm in.

"Thought you might be, Master. I'll see you 'round. Enjoy the Village!"

"Oh, right," he murmured, "Hogsmeade today, and Slughorn's party tonight. Two dates... when did I become such a player?" Harry snorted at his own hubris, even if he hadn't meant it quite that way, then rose and gathered up some of the more expensive-looking muggle clothing Lilian had helped him buy after she had arrived at the Dursleys 'publicly'. It was, as with so many things in his life lately, a deliberate choice. Muggle, to both prod at Pansy's pure-blood sensibilities a bit more and hopefully help her see they weren't as bad as she'd been lead to believe (even if she'd already admitted as much), but expensive because he was genuinely starting to like who the witch was becoming, and knew she would still appreciate being with someone who knew how to use their wealth.

After laying out the clothes and choosing more casual ones for the moment, he crossed the common room carrying rather than wearing his clothing, and stepped into the shower. Ten short minutes later, while everyone still slept, Harry was on his way to the entrance hall, and out onto the grounds. He didn't even really have a destination in mind, but as his homework was caught up even to Hermione's standards now, and they had no more classes until after the return from the upcoming holiday, he had nothing to do except Lilith. Well, no one.

That is, until he saw the lights coming from Hagrid's hut.

Haven't visited him much, this year. Think he'd mind...? Nah. Hagrid's cool.

Harry knocked a few minutes later after following the well-worn trail and stone stairs to the gamekeeper, groundskeeper, and Care of Magical Creatures teacher's hut, where he knocked on the door firmly.

At once, a loud bark sounded from behind it, and Hagrid's booming voice called, "Whozzat, so early, eh? Down, Fang, down! I said get down!"

The door opened smoothly, and Harry was surprised once again, hardly for the first time, at how large Hagrid was. Nothing compared to the runt of a giant brother, Grawp, they'd been introduced to in the previous year, but still twice as tall as Harry himself and four times as broad. "Heya, Hagrid. Couldn't sleep, saw your lights on. Mind a visit?"

"Sure, 'Arry, sure, come on in! Didn't expec' you a'all, so I'm afraid I got nothin' for ya to eat bu' tea."

"That's more than enough," Harry said with a smile, "After all, I'm coming unannounced and uninvited. You really don't mind?"

"No, no' at all, no' at all. Been missin' you lot's comp'ny, if I'm honest. 'Aven' seen you 'round much this las' year."

"Well..." Harry debated for less than a second whether to be honest or not. He hated lying to Hagrid, for all that it was too easy to get him to believe something. There wasn't a duplicitous bone in his body. But how much to say, well... that was something different. In the end, Harry decided to be diplomatic about it, but tell him most of the truth. "You know how magical creatures fascinate you?"

Hagrid's beady eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously, splashing at least a Harry-sized mug's worth of tea over his tablecloth without noticing before turning his attention back to it and his own much larger one. "Yar, I reckon' I migh' know a thing about tha', yeah."

"Turns out I found one that truly fascinates me. Just one, though."

"Oh? I heard a bit abou' you havin' a new project, but Dumbledore didn't seem keen on tellin' me much. Think on'y the 'eads of 'ouses know the whole story."

"I can tell you," Harry continued, "but you have to promise me it will not get out. I'm not trying to be rude, but this is the sort of thing that Voldemort-"

Hagrid flinched, but Harry only rolled his eyes and continued, "-would love to know about me. It's something he might use to attack me and my friends. It cannot be discussed, or even mentioned, ever, unless it's you and me and we're alone. Ron and Hermione know, but... well, you know sometimes you say things you shouldn't. Especially at the pub."

Hagrid had the decency to blush, and look down at his own large mug of tea a bit sheepishly, "Yeah, I reckon I know wha' you mean, 'Arry. If you're more comfortable with me not knowin', you best not tell me."

"I don't mind you knowing," Harry was quick to point out, "or I wouldn't have brought it up. I just don't want the other side knowing. This creature... it's been a powerful ally against Voldemort, and a lot of how useful it is comes from him not knowing about it. So it has to stay secret. It's up to you if you can do that or not."

Hagrid remained silent for several seconds, which stretched into a minute, before he jumped up and muttered, "Can' believe I forgot my own porridge..."

Harry watched the half-giant take the cookpot from his fire, easily as large as a size-twenty cauldron, and set it on the table with a pad beneath it, then pour in a healthy dose of syrup and butter from his pantry before sitting back down and stirring the lot. "I appreciate yer trust in me, 'Arry. I ca' promise nothin'. Like you've already said, I do slip up from time to time. I can on'y give you my wor' that I'll do my damndest not to 'is time. Mum's the word.'

"Alright. Good enough for me, Hagrid. The creature is a Succubus."

It took a few seconds for the information to sink in, but when it did, Harry was quite amused to see Hagrid's dark eyes widen comically large as his face turned ruddy, even red, from his normally swarthy complexion. Even his beard seemed to blush. "A... A Succubus, 'Arry? Really? They're... right dangerous, they are. An' not the kinda beautiful creature I normally mean, neither!"

The younger wizard nodded seriously, "Lyra, the friend we introduced a while ago? That's her, at least while she's at school. Her normal name is Lilith."

"Blimey, 'Arry... a Succubus... tha's some powerful magic it'd have taken to Summon one... you bound 'er, too?"

Harry nodded.

Hagrid didn't seem to know what to think, but Harry could not figure out if it was the revelations that he was no longer an innocent teen (he seemed to assume that, at least, if the glances Hagrid sent his way meant anything at all while he mused), that he'd been so desperate or needy, or perhaps wondering if he'd fallen to the Dark Arts by Summoning and extra-planar creature and binding it to him so firmly.

"Wow... A Succubus... 'reckon you've liked 'avin 'er 'round. What'd 'Ermione say? Bet she threw a fit when she found out."

Harry smirked, "No, actually. We had a bit of a discussion, but she was pretty calm about it, really. Seemed to take it as a personal failing of her own that I was that, er, hungry for release, but I never saw it that way."

"An I s'pose Ron's been mighty pleased too."

"Yep. Hermione too, now. And a few others."

Hagrid shook his head once more, "Well, tha' changes a few things 'bout what I'm gettin you lot for the Hols nex' year, but... Well, most of yer would be of age anyway. An' it isn't like I haven' seen what's been goin' on up in the castle most nights. Students sowin' oats... wouldn't a' minded a bit o' that myself, but with Olympe- er, Madame Maxime- down at Beuxbatons, there ain' much..."

Harry might have blushed at the very idea, a year ago. Would certainly have when the only other half-giant he'd ever heard of had been staying in her powder-blue carriage out on the grounds in his fourth year. But now?

"Well, I might be able to, uh, help you with that, Hagrid... if you want me to."

The huge man's blush returned full-force, "Er, no offense, 'Arry, but tha's not exactly wha' I meant. Blokes don't-"

"I meant Lilith," Harry laughed, waving off his oldest wizarding friend's concern, "The Succubus, remember? She might be willing to help out. I'd have to ask, but I don't think she'd say no. Not every day, of course, but if you, er, want some attention..."

Hagrid spluttered, and turned his attention to the pot, which he lifted to his mouth and slurped from, taking at least six huge swallows of the strange-smelling porridge before putting it down and wiping the mass of remnants from his beard and onto his nightshirt's sleeve. "I... well, I don'... she's a bit... young, isn' she?"

"Over a hundred, but she doesn't know the exact translation. She's an adult."

"I... well, I still don'... I mean... she's... isn't she, I dunno... yours...?"

"If you mean if I've had sex with her," Harry replied casually, "then yes, of course. So has Ron, Hermione, and several other people. Hagrid, this is... my life is not normal. I know, now, that it never was and never was going to be. But Lilith being here has changed just how normal it isn't a great deal. Because of our Bond, I have to- or at least I prefer to- climax at least five times a day. Often with different partners. I have a growing circle of people that I have sex with regularly. It would be rude, mean, unfair, and a double-standard if I didn't let those partners be with other people, too. Also, she's literally a Succubus. It's in her nature."

Hagrid's blush deepened even further, "You don' have to be so blunt, 'Arry... but I get yer poin'. I... I'll think abou' it, aright? I'm not promisin' nothin', 'cept that I won' tell a soul."

"Alright," Harry agreed with a smile. He knew it should feel odd to be so at ease discussing this sort of thing with a much older wizard, and a half-giant, and a more casual friend than his best friends, but at the same time, he just didn't care. He had long since passed the point of being hung-up about the social norms regarding sex. Most of them, anyway.

A glance out the window behind Hagrid told Harry that dawn was approaching, so he hopped off the giant stool he'd perched on, "I probably ought to head to breakfast myself, Hagrid. It was good to see you again. Expect Hedwig in about three days with my gift, alright? And Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Chris'mas to you too, Harry," Hagrid boomed, "I nearly forgo' it was that close! I better finish Ron's presen' fast! Go on, then. Enjoy yer Hogsmeade day. Migh' see you 'round down in the Village, I'm 'elpin wi' security. The Order volunteered to assist the Aurors, af'er all."

"Right. Later, Hagrid."

He still felt a little guilty for neglecting Hagrid this year, but Harry was much happier having (hopefully) arranged a bit of guilt-free fun with Lilith to make up for it.

He met Pansy at ten o'clock, and was pleasantly surprised to see that she had opted for loose, flowing pants of her own rather than robes or a dress. Though her shirt was definitely not muggle-made, it very much resembled a low-cut v-neck t-shirt, which both emphasized and accentuated five full inches of cleavage, clasped together more by the brooch of her over-cloak than anything else. That was very wizarding in style, and if he had to guess the current height of fashion, in black with Slytherin-green trim along all the edges and long sleeves that would just cover her hands. She was currently pulling on a pair of black silk gloves as he approached her through the dwindling crowd. Most of the students of third year and up had already gone with the first wave at nine, and each were still being inspected by Argus Filch's probity-probe.

The old caretaker scowled and waved his wand as they passed, but said nothing. In fact, nor did Pansy until they had reached the carriages. "I would prefer walking, if you don't mind, Po- Harry."

"Sure, Pansy, that sounds great, actually," he replied quietly, glad for a bit of exercise even if he'd already been on one walk this morning. The Village was a mile and a half down the road, but even though it was cold, there was no wind and the morning was clear, so that sunshine glinted on the snow that carpeted the ground. For a moment, he worried about mud, but it was still cold enough that even the well-used trails were frozen over.

There wasn't much conversation until after they had passed the great boar statues that flanked Hogwarts' main gate. They still had a full mile to go. And it started when Pansy slipped her hand into his, twining their fingers together.

He looked over at her in surprise, a smile growing across his face.

"What?" she asked after a moment, looking up at him without breaking stride, though he thought the rosey color of her normally olive-skinned cheeks might be more from embarrassment than the cold.

"Nothing," he replied, the grin not fading as he gave her hand a little squeeze, "You just continue to surprise me, that's all."

Her hand almost withdrew, and would have if his reflexes hadn't let him catch it. But Harry was able to bring the knuckles of her glove to his lips almost casually, and she stared as he kissed her there. "I didn't say it was a bad surprise."

Once their hands were safely between them again, Pansy still blushing far worse than Harry was (though he could tell he definitely was), her pace slowed a little. "I... thank you for coming," she said quietly. "I... I know I was pushy. You didn't have to accept."

Harry nodded, not looking her way mostly to keep from embarrassing her further as she kept shooting nervous glances up at him, and thought about what to say for a moment. "I... find myself enjoying your company, to be honest. It's not just... because I think you are pretty. You are, of course, even beautiful, it's just... I like who you are showing yourself to be. I don't know yet if it's the real you, but I'm glad you took my advice to heart. I couldn't stand you before, but now I'm happy to go to Hogsmeade with you. I like you, is what I'm trying to say."

Pansy flushed again, and her chin dropped nearly to her bosom for several seconds, perhaps a minute. "I like you too, P- Harry. I'm shocked by how much, after... our first real meeting."

"I'm so sorry about that-"

"No," Pansy said quickly, turning to face him and coming to a stop, dragging him with her. Her eyes were almost wet as she looked up at him seriously, "Stop apologizing for that. It's in the past. I- I still can't believe how much I... enjoyed it myself. It was a revelation, P-Potter. Harry. I would've, should've, ignored your advice if you'd just told it to me. But... it was cruel, perhaps, and under any other circumstances would have been abhorrent. But I wanted you to do it then. If- if I hadn't enjoyed, if you hadn't made me enjoy it, I would not have stopped to actually think about what you said. You say you like me? I am me, the me I am today- still trying to figure that out, actually, but still me today- because you did that. I don't regret it, and I hate that you do."

Harry swallowed. It was strange, so very strange, but he could not find fault in her logic, no matter how deeply he looked. After a few more seconds of looking down into her beautiful eyes, which were still far too moist, he nodded, exhaled a long, slow breath, then leaned down and kissed her. Gently, tenderly, and he found his free hand, the one she did not still hold, snaking around her narrow waist to pull her just a little closer.

When at last they separated, despite a trio of fourth-year Ravenclaws passing them in a carriage headed to the Village catcalling them and encouraging them to 'just fuck already,' Harry felt the very last bit of guilt and regret over his actions that night fade away. It really came down to a few things. Milly didn't regret it, Warrington didn't regret it, and Pansy was grateful for it. Malfoy... well, he could go fuck himself. Harry hoped he burned in hell for what he'd done to Mandy and probably Isabella Ross. "Alright," he said slowly, "I'll stop, then, if that's what you want, Pansy. I can see why you feel that way. From your point of view... alright."

"Good. My boy- my... what exactly am I to you, - Harry?"

There was still a slight hitch before she'd said his name, but as they started walking again, he knew she was working very hard to be more than casual acquaintances who shagged on occasion. Honestly, he didn't care to define it, but he knew she would. So he thought about it for a few seconds, then said, "Several things, none of which are mutually exclusive. We are friends. Unless you tell me otherwise right now. That's set in stone."

"No, I think we've passed that, as strange as it is to be friends with a Gryffindor. And you of all people."

He grinned down at her cheeky little smile, then suddenly turned and bent to kiss her again without breaking his stride, leaving her blushing as he stood back up. "Beyond that it gets a little more complicated. You know about the whole... situation. And what we are largely remains up to you. We can be friends- with benefits, I hope- meaning we'll continue to have fun as you wish, totally aside from any other arrangement. But again, that's up to you. I won't force you again."

When she said nothing, he continued, "I'm in or will be in Concubine Contracts with between two and three people now. Daphne, possibly Tracey, and a Hufflepuff witch."

"Not Abbot?"

Harry shook his head.

Proving her own cunning, Pansy glanced at him once, then proclaimed, "Her friend, then. Was it... Madame Bones' daughter? No, her niece? The one she raised?"

Harry shrugged, but the must have seen the corner of his mouth quirk at the mention of the busty red-head. "Of course. Second to develop after dear Daphne in our year, and the larger of the two. It figures."

"Hey, don't knock your own chest," Harry said with a chuckle, though he meant it, "it's pretty nice, too. And there's more to a woman's beauty than her brassiere size. Ask my girlfriend."

Pansy nearly missed a step, forcing Harry to slow. When he looked back at her, she seemed a little sad, despite having a flat expression. "Er... you do remember I have two, right? I see no reason to object to three, if that's what you want."

It was idiotic, of course, to expect that, but suddenly Pansy was smiling again. "I will think about that, Harry. Go on."

"Lovers, of course. Again, I hope that continues. If you're asking if I love you, then the answer is yes, of course. If you are asking if I'm in love with you, I... don't know. I want to be with you. For a long time. I don't want to be in a world where you don't exist. I like your company. I feel sad when you are sad, and happy when you are happy. I like seeing you smile, and hearing you laugh. It's a lot of work to get you to do that one, but I like it anyway. Makes it more special."

"You," she frowned up at him, her eyes dancing, "are the most infuriatingly cheesy man I've ever met."

"And," he laughed, "I love embarrassing you. But I still don't know if I'm in love with you. I wish I could say one way or the other, just to clear things up. But I do want our relationship to continue. Even... grow."

Pansy cast him another side-eye as the distant rooftops began to come into view. Three more bends in the road, and they would be at Hogsmeade Station. Another past that, and the village proper. "I don't... think I know myself enough to know if I love you," she said quietly, "but I do enjoy your company. You are... too polite, and you don't exercise nearly enough guile to keep yourself safe, but that is also... refreshing."

"Then as I said, our relationship should be defined by you. I will happily do what you like in the bedroom- or outside it, as the location allows. But outside of that sort of thing, I don't prefer being abusive."

Pansy flushed violently at the first declaration, and refused suddenly to look at him. The one time they'd had a rendezvous since her first Rune-set had been applied, Pansy had wanted a more quiet, one-on-one session. He would've called it making love, though the term still seemed a bit too much.

But he knew she still wanted to be taken, to be used, rough and harsh. Her response to being put in the pillory and the others essentially using her body for their own pleasure while the Runes were applied was quite telling.

"Of course, that being said, I do now sleep in that same room... and the pillory is still there. Along with several other toys."

"You are incorrigible," Pansy hissed, slapping his chest, but he could see her legs start to move closer together, as if her thighs were clenching as she walked, while the cloak billowed behind her.

"But you love that about me," he murmured into her ear, then nibbled her lobe. "We're almost there... best keep to light conversations, unless you want to tempt me into ravishing you on the High Street."

"Terrible, terrible man..." she groaned.

Suddenly surrounded by a mob of students of all ages from thirteen and up, along with the few residents of Hogsmeade that dared come out while the main thoroughfare was packed with a younger crowd, their clasped hands and opposite-colored clothing garnered quite a bit of attention. Curious, surprised looks from most of them, to be sure, and several sneers and looks of hatred from about half the Slytherins. But Pansy resolutely refused to let go, and held her head high as they passed several dozen people every minute or two.

The Stationers, Zonko's (where Pansy surprisingly bought a few things, mostly to send to her younger brother, she claimed, who was only ten and wouldn't attend Hogwarts until next year), and Honeyduke's were expected visits for the most part, and nothing to write home about. Their next almost-stop was the terribly gaudy Madame Puddifoot's, where Cho had dragged Harry on their one disastrous date, thankfully long before he'd summoned Lilith and his life had changed so much.

"Gods," Pansy hissed as they passed one of the windows, where at least one older Hufflepuff boy was getting a handjob from a girl about a year younger that Harry thought might've been a Ravenclaw, in full view of the pine-wreathed window, "You wouldn't catch me dead in such a place. It's so... tacky."

"Made that mistake once," Harry muttered. He didn't want to speak ill of the dead, and he did miss Cho (her body and cute face mostly, he could admit now), but... "I fully agree."

Pansy snorted, looking up at him, "Who?"

"Cho Chang."

"Ravenclaw Seeker? Died at- at the Ministry, last year?"

Harry nodded.

"Stupid woman. I can see why you'd go for her, but still. Bad choice, especially as a first date. Maybe a fifth."

Harry agreed. "Who was yours?"

Pansy's eyes rolled, "Malfoy, if you can believe it. Seemed to think it was proper to be seen. I'll tell you now, Harry, and I don't want to seem too forward, but you do not try to feel up a witch on the first date! And if you do, you at least- at least have a- a reaction."

Harry snorted. He well remembered the look of shame and rage on Draco's face as he realized that Harry had seen him utterly unable to grow erect despite being dosed with Fog of Lust several times, watching an orgy on one side, and Harry roughly using Pansy's body (and pleasuring her too), on the other side. "Yeah, I... don't know what was up with that. The rumors- well the report, I suppose- about him and Umbridge... Eww."

"That was the single most disgusting thing I'd ever read, and my mother kept pushing Rita Skeeter at me," Pansy muttered darkly. "I can't believe I ever... eww. No."

Which, now that she mentioned it, made Isabella Ross' seeming delight at sucking Malfoy's cock, and her eagerness to go with him into the Vanishing Cabinet seem pretty odd. She was dosed, he realized, or under a Compulsion to have sex with him. A cum-pulsion? Heh... no... or... or she was Imperiused. The look in her eyes... it had to be. That one bloke said he saw her eyes glassy, too. Shit. He's gotten good at that spell, then. Fuck. We'll have to be careful if we ever meet, or go after him.

But Harry pushed those thoughts away as they finally passed the horrendous tea shop. Eventually, they found themselves past most of the crowd, and Harry was stricken by the strange urge to take Pansy on yet a bit more of a walk. She frowned, but did not protest as they passed the stile at the far end of the village, and then left the road to go up into the hills. Soon they were hidden by trees, and climbing still higher, steeper. That was when Pansy started protesting. "Come on, Harry, where are you taking me? My shoes aren't meant for- aah!"

He caught her quickly, thankfully, with a hand under her bum and one arm around her back, setting the young woman back her her feet, "It's not much farther. Just a little cave."

He didn't know why, precisely, he had the sudden urge to bring her there. But the place where Sirius had been hiding out for so long seemed quiet, out of the way. When he stopped outside the small cave, Pansy gave him a very cold stare. "I hope you didn't bring me out all this way to shag, Potter. I will not sully my clothes here. A bed will do, if you are desperate."

Harry snorted, shaking his head, and transfigured a large stone Sirius had used as a chair once upon a time into a couch, instead. "Of course. Gryffindor colors? Really?"

"I didn't bring you here to shag," Harry said with a laugh, pulling her in, then using his wand to summon a few branches, arranged them in the long-unused firepit, and lit it before pulling her down to sit next to him.

"I brought you here to talk, quietly and away from prying eyes."

"How did you know about this place?" Pansy asked, not truly concerned as she had been a few moments ago. "I've never heard of a cave up here. Never been past the village."

"My godfather," Harry said quietly, "Sirius Black. He used to stay here, when he was on the run. Close enough to help if needed, but hidden and mostly free of danger."

"Someone would've seen the fire," she pointed out, gesturing at the still-visible rooftops. They were less than eight hundred feet from the nearest house, though high above them.

"Magic. Probably used spells to hide it. He did have a wand, after all. Also, an Animagus. Big black dog."

"Oh. That... I suppose that would do it. What other secrets are you hiding, P- Harry?"

He ignored, once again, her slipping back into more formal speech. She was trying, and as long as she was, he wouldn't call her on it. Instead, he sighed, "Let me start at the beginning."

It took two hours to explain what he knew about his life, from the time Voldemort had killed his parents, to being raised by the Dursleys and how terrible they were, how little he had.

Pansy had been strangely sympathetic, snarling at one particular mention of abuse at Vernon's hand, and muttering, "That explains the rags you used to wear, at least. I'm glad to see even muggles can look fashionable. At least you do, now."

Their adventures in the first year, the suspicion of Snape at first, and who the true thief of the Philospher's Stone had been. Second year, and the giant spiders, the Horcrux. He didn't use the word, and only vaguely mentioned the diary's powers. Only that it had possessed a student and made her open the Chamber, releasing Slytherin's Monster into the school, and what it was. How he and Ron had saved her and destroyed the book, slaying the beast in the process at the near cost of his own life.

There, she had taken up his arm and examined the scar, still visible, from the Basilisk's fang with amazement, but said not a word.

Third year, how they'd been so sure that Sirius was trying to kill him, up until the fateful encounter in the Shrieking Shack. She took particular delight in hearing how Harry had bullied (though he said he felt no shame for this particular act) Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle with the invisibility cloak when Ron and Hermione had visited the same shack earlier in the year.

Fourth year, she knew more about, but Harry told her a lot of what wasn't public knowledge. Details about their preparations for the dragons, how Harry had been among the first to find out what they were. What actually happened beneath the lake, and in the Maze. Then, with a serious look, he told her about Voldemort's return to power, and how Cedric Diggory had been brought back, dead. How he'd seen the shades of his parents, brought out of Voldemort's wand by his will and glowing beads of light.

Pansy had no idea what it meant, and Harry didn't bother explaining, but was amazed all the same.

Fifth year, she knew full well almost everything. Even most Slytherins, especially those on the Inquisitorial Squad, aside from perhaps Draco, hated her. But she was useful to them, so they went along with it. Even Harry couldn't blame the House of the Ambitious for that. He skipped over a lot of the details leading up to Lilith, but described the acts she performed both before and after, and, when she gave him a questioning look, exactly who and how he'd lost his virginity to.

"Daphne," Pansy snickered, "I should've known."

It was then Harry's turn to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"That bint," she teased in reply, shaking her head, "I love her, but she's so... blind, sometimes. We all knew she preferred Tracey, of course, after our second year. Milly and I saw them kissing once. We didn't care. Why would we? Plenty of witches through the years have gone to each other for company when their husbands were... lacking, or cruel. It's not a stretch to imagine them enjoying it even more than their spouse. But they tried to hide it for so long. Then she goes and shags you in a public place, late at night or not, when you're both out-of-bounds, and still tries to hide it? Ridiculous."

"I guess," Harry shrugged, "but back then, I was too... not embarrassed. If anything, I was proud I'd shagged someone so beautiful. But it was still so new, and... I didn't know how to take it. So I just left her alone."

"Probably good that you did," Pansy acknowledged, giving him a pointed look, "If you'd openly pursued her out of some misguided sense of loyalty or obligation, you would have brought her and Tracey both a great deal of trouble, not least of which from me. She might actually have been in real danger."

Harry nodded. He hadn't considered that, but Pansy was probably right. She would know Slytherin's reactions to that news better than he would, for sure.

The tale continued, moving a bit faster now, as he glossed over adding first Ron, then Hermione, and slowly picking up Neville and then Hannah, adding them to the little group, along with other trysts unnamed and only distantly mentioned, until he explained his motivations at the time for going up to the tower. He pointedly did not apologize, but Harry still felt it might help her to know that he had gone up there to learn something, not to take advantage of or hurt anyone.

Pansy took it in stride, let him explain, then waved her hand, "Keep going," without acknowledging it too much.

The last bit he covered was the gap between that time, a brief overview of his summer, including how his life at the Dursleys' had changed even more drastically than at school.

"And I suppose muggle pussy feels just as good for you? Men, not just you in particular."

Harry could only shrug and nod.

Pansy didn't say anything else about it. He hadn't even mentioned the inhabitants of Little Whinging he'd shagged, she had just assumed, and rightly.

"Then, well, you were upset, that day, and Daphne came to me for help. Then, your shower, your bed... you know that part."

Pansy grinned, "I remember, yes."

"Not too much else since, but there have been a few things. L- Wait, you know about Lavender. She was there when we did your Runes."

"Sexy w- er... yes. Her. The slag."

Harry grinned, "You think Lavender is sexy, hmm?"

"Well, she is," Pansy tried to defend, pinking once more and looking firmly down at the fire, "It'd be useless to deny it."

"But you like what she did to you."

"Of course I did," Pansy hissed furiously, "I was- was mad with lust, that day."

"Alright, I'll stop teasing... but I'm not forgetting that. It's fine, of course, you can have at her all you want. Obviously, I don't care. That's about caught up, though."

Pansy let herself lean against him, warmed by his presence and the fire, despite it still being rather chilly in the dark cave. Eventually she sighed, "I suppose I haven't much else to tell. We haven't got new information, we're basically cut off. Milly is hoping to learn a little during the break, but since we can't trust the portraits at her house, we're going to have to remove them, or Stun them if not. The whole time we're there."

"That's unfortunate," Harry told her, pulling the young woman a bit closer as she shivered. "We can go, if you want. Three Broomsticks for a late lunch, then back to the Castle?"

"So- sounds good," Pansy said with a yawn, "I'd like a shag today at some point, but the castle is probably safer."

"What, not right here, in a dingy cave, lit by a romantic fire?"

"No," Pansy snorted, "Maybe next time, when it's warmer. I don't fancy my nips falling off in the cold, thanks."

"Ah... good point. I imagine I might be less impressive myself."

"Full of yourself? Not that you don't have reason."

Harry grinned as he pushed up and offered her a pair of hands to rise as well. "As the lady says. I shrunk my broom, if you'd prefer to get back faster. Might be cold."

"No," she shuddered, "I'll walk, thank you. The streets won't be as crowded, and I don't want to seem uncouth riding side-saddle with a man. Or a whore, wearing pants and straddling it with one."

Harry blinked. "Is... is that a thing? What about Quidditch?"

Pansy chuckled as she held out a hand for him to take, silently asking him to help steady her as she crossed the same rocky patch she'd slipped on before. "In my experience, most female Quidditch players may as well be whores, even if they're skilled. I've heard from more than a few sources the Harpies lay with each other after every practice, and bring in more if they win a game. But that's neither here nor there. It's riding with a man that's the issue, Harry. You get the imagery, I'm sure. A long piece of wood between our legs, a man behind us?"

"Well, yes," he agreed, "but surely not everyone assumes...?"

"It's not assumed," she emphasized, then lifted her hands in a very muggle gesture of air-quotes, "It's 'known' that unmarried women who ride brooms with unmarried men are spreading their legs for him. And me, a pure-blood daughter, disowned or not, wearing pants doing so? I'd be seen as a harlot for certain."

"Well," Harry said reasonably as they reached more level ground, still mostly hidden by trees, and pulled her against him to press her against his front, "You're my little harlot, for what it's worth."

This time, the Slytherin's former 'princess' actually snorted, and grinned up and back at Harry while she ground her rear in a circle against him, "There's a definition of our relationship, then. Friends, with benefits yes, and I'm your personal whore. That works... for now. And only in private, obviously."

"For a given definition of privacy, yes," he agreed at once, laughing as her private little smile changed to a most affronted scowl. "Come on, we should get a move on. I'm starting to get hungry."

The Three Broomsticks was surprisingly quiet at this time of afternoon, but Harry was pleased to see Ron and Hermione sitting with a few members of the D.A. at a full table, leaving him and Pansy free to sit in one of the smaller, four-seat booths. She chose to sit across from him, but rested her feet on his lap after slipping out of her tall boots and setting them beneath the table. "Ouch," she hissed, wiggling her toes.

Harry grinned, "Begging for a foot-rub? I'll oblige, but you could just ask."

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Fair point. Like the socks, by the way."

Pansy quirked her head for a moment, then shrugged. "No idea what the symbol means, I just like the colors."

Harry leaned in over her feet while wrapping his hands around one, "Comfortable?"

"Very, actually. It's why I wore them. And warm."

"They're muggle, you know. Newcastle United is a football club."

Pansy blinked, looking at her feet through the table as her toes wiggled again, "I didn't know. They're selkies though. Aren't they?"

"Or Hippocampi, maybe," Harry shrugged, "Hagrid would know better than me. Or sea-horses. Nonmagical creature. I'm not a big footie fan, but I can ask if you care."

"Who would know such an obscure thing?" Pansy asked, seeming genuinely curious.

Harry didn't have to go far. "Well, Dean Thomas is a Westham fan, but he seems to follow the sport pretty closely, he'd probably know. Or I can ask some folks during the break. You aren't ticklish. Darn."

Pansy snorted, rolling her pretty eyes, "No, I'm not. You'd already have found the spot if I was, sorry. That feels pretty nice, by the way. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said with an easy mile as Madame Rosmerta walked up.

"What can I get you dears?"

"The lunch special if you've any left," Harry said when Pansy gestured to him expectantly, her eyes glinting mischievously, "for myself... and for the lady, let's do scallops and salmon, a salad on the side. I'll just drink butterbeer. For her... a sparkling wine, white."

"Right on it, dears. Shouldn't be more than I'd say... ten minutes. I'll bring the drinks out sooner."

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