A/N:
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Chap. 69: Decisions, both Simple and Hard
Two minutes later, once again, Pansy came into the compartment standing stiff and tall, every bit the pure-blood princess she portrayed herself as.
It lasted six seconds after the door was shut and locked, but Harry didn't mind. Then a trio of quick Switching spells had her robes, knickers, and bra drifting down onto the bench next to Harry. A few seconds later, his cock was free of his trousers again, and Pansy was rapidly stroking him with both hands, her mouth and tongue wrestling with his, as she coaxed him to full hardness. She didn't even ask for permission before she threw her knees onto the bench on either side of him, and guided his cock into her smooth, burning-hot depths. "F-f-fuuuuuuck," Pansy moaned, "I needed this cock so bad, Potter. Never make me wait so long again!"
He smirked against her lips as she started writhing and grinding her body against him in wide circles, while thrusting her hips back and forth to drag her clit over his pubic hair, fully holding him, but only barely. "I missed you too, Pansy. You're a horny girl, aren't you?"
"For you? Yes," she half-moaned, "I've tried and tried, but I can't... it's just not enough without this cock of yours, Potter. So fuck me, fuck me really good!"
This wasn't like Pansy Parkinson, not that Harry had ever seen her anyway, but he wasn't about to complain. He didn't obey, though. Instead, he rested his weight against the back of the bench and shifted his hips forward a bit more, dragging her back so that she fell forward against him. His hands weren't idle, sliding up and down the girl's smooth sides and back, or kneading one breast and then the next, but he held still aside from that, letting her dictate the pace and do the work. Her desperate, molten core was definitely going to be enough to get Harry off, but an idea occurred to him that would make it more fun for both, he thought, in the long run. So he held off, remained mostly motionless, while his hands continued to tease her, bringing Pansy's arousal higher and higher as she started rising and falling on his dick with abandon.
The dark, thick hair hung in the air long enough as she down-stroked that it barely had time to fall before the up-stroke yanked it skyward again, and already Pansy's pussy was fluttering and clutching at him. Little mewling noises slipped out every few panting breaths, but they fell still as Harry cupped her left tit in both hands, giving it a squeeze, and then pulling the nipple into his mouth. He held it there with pressure alone as his tongue slithered around it in rough shapes, and his hands went back to massaging her other one, or cupping her firm, bubbly arse. He used that one, too, to clutch Pansy against him as her movements shifted quickly from rapid and fast, rhythmic, to erratic and wild. Then his mouth switched sides, and he gave the one he'd just suckled for two minutes a hard pinch, and bucked his hips up into her at the same time as she came down.
The impact set her off like a gun. Without further warning, Pansy's whines of pleasure and out-of-breath, needy pants shifted into a groan loud enough that he thought the next car might've heard it as her hips bucked against him. Fluid gushed from her, the first time he'd seen Pansy squirt outside of being tied up, before she collapsed against him, gasping for breath.
He let her lay there, her body shaking and quivering as it slowly came down from her orgasm with him still buried to the hilt in her.
"You're fucking amazing, Harry," she finally whispered into his neck, then nibbled that spot a bit with her lips, "I can't believe you can cum and still stay hard."
He snorted, and moved both hands down to her rump, giving both cheeks a squeeze. "What makes you think I came?"
She looked up at him, frowning, "You... you didn't?"
"Nope. Not yet. I was getting pretty close."
The frown deepened. "That's... that's not fair. Hold on, I can go again, I'll just-"
"You'll what?" he asked quietly, moving one hand up her spine, making Pansy shiver, to stroke down her raven-colored hair. "Ride me again? Use my cock for your pleasure?"
"N- No," she gasped, pushing upright on his lap again, "I- you know that's not what I was doing! I just wanted to be with you, not use you!"
Harry tried to raise one eyebrow. He didn't know if he'd pulled it off, but either way, Pansy wilted, "I'm sorry, Harry," she murmured, sounding genuinely upset by the idea, "I just... I didn't want to waste time, and you'd said you... you were always ready, and..."
"And I was," he told her, taking some pity, "but you didn't ask, dearest... which means you owe me one fucking amazing orgasm. Because that was, wasn't it? Look at my legs, they're drenched with you."
She glanced down between them, face darkening with an almost purple-blush thanks to her olive complexion. "I... I did? Shit, I'm sorry, Harry, I-"
"That makes you naughty," he told her quietly, "and you know what happens to naughty young witches."
"Wh- what?"
His smirk returned full-force, as his arms went beneath her bum again, his magically-enhanced strength more than enough to lift her up with his cock and hands alone. Then he lifted her off of him, set her down, and spun the girl before pushing her down so that her face was up against the seat where he'd just been sitting. He held her there, one hand on the back of Pansy's neck, and then used his other hand to guide his rod into her core with a sigh. "Bad, naughty, slutty girls who like to use their master's cock get punished," he finally answered, giving her a very powerful slap with his free hand.
As she cried out in surprise and pain, he gave a single hard stroke outward and back in, slamming Pansy's tits against the bench and her face into the cushions. His hands fell on her hips, and he started humping. Hard, fast, relentless, Harry soon had her round arse shaking and bouncing in waves as the tables turned. Then he grabbed her arms, twisting them back behind her just like he had months ago atop the astronomy tower, when they'd first shagged.
The thought, once one of pain and anguish for him, now made Harry grin in remembrance. He'd felt amazing, so powerful, so in control, back then. Now, he knew that Pansy was not hurt by it (though she'd been humiliated and terrified at the time), but had come to relish the sensation. She loved being used as an object to satisfy his lust. And that had been further reinforced by the things they had done when she'd gotten her first Succubi Runes.
Now, especially with the ready-made excuse that she'd just used him (for all Harry had enjoyed it immensely), he could fuck her with reckless abandon, returning the callous favor, and feel no shame in it. In fact, it made him feel even stronger and in control than it had on the Astronomy Tower, for he knew that Pansy was absolutely willing to submit to him, and that she relished giving up her own control.
In fact, she was already climaxing again. Harry didn't stop, did not even slow down. If anything, he started thrusting forward harder, driving her thighs into the wood below the upholstered seat now, and reached back a hand to haul her upper torso away by the hair. Now free, her swinging breasts fell victim to his rough handling again. Not even a minute after the second, Pansy climaxed again, this time squirting all over the bench and floor. Harry let himself orgasm with her, filling her pussy with the cum it was so hungry for. But he didn't stop thrusting. Before long, she'd climaxed again, as he stirred up a frothy lather of their fluids between them and inside her. After that one, Harry pulled out and spun her around again, standing over her on her knees, and shoved his cock into her throat.
She slurped at it eagerly this time, caught up in the moment, in pleasing him, and in her own pleasure. There was no look of horror at knowing who'd just fucked her silly, and was now making her swallow what felt like a full pint of his seed. No, this time there was happiness, satisfaction, ecstasy. Between his ankles, Harry was sure that even without his dick inside her, without even touching her, the feel of their mixed fluids on and inside her, and servicing his needs, was enough to make her climax a fifth time, for Pansy's hips jerked and spun in the air spasmodically while she tried to suction his entire head off of the shaft while he gave her another climax, just twenty seconds after the first.
When he pulled out, Pansy inhaled a ragged, choppy breath through her semen-clogged mouth, swallowed a few times, and then laughed weakly, looking up at him with adoration as Harry flicked a few dollops of his cum onto her big tits. She immediately leaned up and cleaned him with her mouth like the obedient slave she was, and used her hands meanwhile to smear his seed into her breasts, then reach down with both of them between her legs and rub that much larger amount into her cunt, thighs, and belly too. Once he was clean, Harry stepped away to watch Pansy finish playing with his rapidly-disappearing seed, then sat down and reached to pull her into his lap. She sat sideways, and they kissed for several more minutes in each other's arms, before the girl pulled away, sounding quite tired suddenly.
"I should get back," she murmured, "Thank you... Master."
She'd never called him that as far as he could recall, not even on the night they'd all used her body for their own pleasure when Lilith had given the girl her Runes. He found himself enjoying the mental imagery of her in a collar once more, a Pet much like Ginny was, though more... He grinned again, as he realized what Pansy's place should be in their growing family. A Pet, yes, but the family pet. Ginny was his Pet, Pansy would be the family's to use as they wished. She did so enjoy it, after all. But he could tell her that later. Now, he'd break it to her gently, "You're welcome, Pet," he said back solemnly. She shivered at the name, but smiled as she dressed quickly in a more mundane fashion, then leaned down to kiss him again. "Do... are we still able to stay in your rooms?"
He nodded, pulling her down for another long, lingering kiss with one hand on her jawline, "Of course, Pet. Unless Dumbledore himself tells me no. If that's happens, then I'm leaving the school if he fights me on it. I was serious when I said I'd protect you all with everything I've got. I'm not above emotional blackmail if it comes down to it."
That made Pansy smile as she stood up, pulling out of his hands, and step toward the door, her robes still half-untied. "How very Slytherin of you, Harry."
"Learned from the best," he chuckled.
She finished tying her robe, fluffed her hair a little in a useless attempt to hide just how furiously they'd shagged, and stepped out into the corridor.
Harry only realized as the knock preceded Daphne and Tracey's entry that Pansy had forgotten her knickers, which still showed a stain as they were crumpled on the opposite bench.
He paled as the blonde stopped in mid-sit. Tracey stepped past her lover and sat next to the knickers without question, while Daphne's face turned very slowly in his direction. She didn't say anything.
Harry didn't dare to. Obviously, she knew that he and Pansy were intimate, but he didn't think she had ever been confronted with such... direct evidence.
What would that do for her mood? Would it change how she saw him? He hoped not. He rather liked Daphne, for all they were relative strangers who just so happened to have a sort of half-marriage arrangement, and who liked having sex with each other.
... Odd, for a lesbian, he thought, but who was he to judge?
"Sorry," he murmured, sitting half up and reaching around her to grab the silk and fold them hastily, before shoving the underwear into his robe pocket, "Pansy must've... forgotten them."
"I have an alternate theory," Daphne said. Her eyes had followed his every movement, he had felt it, and she'd most certainly been looking at where the underthings had gone. "I believe Pansy left them there for us to see. Marking her territory, as it were."
Harry frowned. "You... you know that's not her place, right? I won't... won't let anyone do that."
Daphne only shrugged, sitting down next to Tracey, but leaving a little space where the knickers had been, and sitting primly, as usual, with her hands clasped in her lap. "I honestly don't care, Potter. She can stake all the claim she wants, as long as you understand and abide by our agreement."
"Never thought about changing or not following it," he replied.
"Good. See that it stays that way. I have entrusted you with a great deal, personally. You would not like to see what happens if that trust is betrayed."
Harry watched the girl silently for a few seconds, then replied quietly, "Noted. One day, though, you're going to learn that I don't do that. I never have. I never will. It's not the kind of person I am. Besides, what would be the point? Holding you over your family's head somehow? Please. I'm not that low, and if I was, what would I possibly gain from it? What would my motive be?"
Daphne blinked a few times, then scowled, "I have to admit that I don't know. But I'm still wary. "
"Fair enough," he said, crossing his legs at an angle and leaning back again, though this time only one hand went to the back of the bench, the other rested across his legs. "Let me throw out a few ideas. You might be worried that I could blackmail you, your family. Maybe withhold treatment for Astoria. Try to get some money from your parents, or something like that. Any of those thoughts that've gone through your head in the last few weeks?"
Despite herself, Daphne blushed, though her artfully-applied makeup lessened the effect. But she didn't say anything, only kept watching him with a cold eyes that grew even colder as he spoke.
"Look," he reminded them after a moment, making sure to keep his posture relaxed, "I'm not going to do any of that. You have my word. I care what happens to Astoria, too. No doubt, that's why your parents sent her to me in the first place: so she could charm me into helping. Well, it worked. She's my friend, and I don't want her to die. I'm not saying I want it as badly as you, of course not. You're her sister. But we both want the same things, here. Your parent's money? One day soon I'll show you my current wealth. I don't need more. Leverage over them? Well... we can discuss that today, I suppose. But I can promise you, there is literally nothing I could gain that I don't already have."
"Me," she reminded him, "I could back out."
"True. In which case, I would lose a beautiful lover. And what else? Nothing, really. I enjoy being with you, Daphne, but I won't be heartbroken if you change your mind. You love Tracey, I don't expect you to love me. I like you, I really do, but I'm not in love with you. So what would I lose? Not much. I have other lovers, after all, and as good looking as you are, if I wanted your body alone I could have that. Succubus, remember?
"But you stand to lose a fair bit. I'm not threatening you, so please don't take it that way. I'm only saying out loud what you are acting like you're worried about. Stop me if I'm wrong, of course. So, you would lose first, a father to your children. Of course you can get another, and I'm not so arrogant as to say or even think that no one else would be as good for that. You could move across the world and find a million blokes that are reasonably intelligent, decent-looking, and have a fair bit of wealth to let you live comfortably. Maybe not that are also wizards, but there are plenty of them still. You would lose my wealth, maybe, but that's again not that important. I know your own family are fairly well-off. I do my homework, too. So I'm replaceable, but I would like to think there's more to it. You know the rumors. The prophecy and all. I can tell you now, it's at least partially true, and it does in fact refer to me. He dies, or I die. That's the simple version. No one else can kill either one of us, not really. At least, that's how I read it. Maybe I can die, I don't know, but I've been awfully lucky over the years. Not really the point, though. My point is, I am going to fight him, and I have a lot of resources and power at my disposal. You've seen the D.A. You know about my friends, how strong they are. You know how I... apparently have this way with people these days. Look at Pansy, if you need an example. That's the sort of protection you'd lose."
Tracey sent Daphne a concerned look, but she still stared at him impassively, without a word.
Taking that as letting him say his piece, Harry continued, "Again, not threatening, just saying what I feel like you're worrying about. Protection, and a decent guy to be the father of your children, to help you carry on your line. But you also worry about Astoria, and with good reason. But now you know where to go for help. You could find a way. The treatment is working, too, isn't it?"
This time, Daphne did answer in the form of a single, curt nod.
"Well, since it's working, you could use your family's own money to fund her treatment. I know the gold to muggle currency rate would leave you even wealthier in the muggle world. It might be distasteful for you, but I know full well you'd do it for your sister without hesitation. So that isn't something I could possibly hold over your head, either. You'd figure it out too fast if I tried. Which leaves us just one thing for you to really lose, aside from the protection."
"What's that?" Tracey asked quietly, watching him just as raptly but without the same neutral expression. In fact, for all her normal taciturn nature, the tiny girl seemed almost excited by his near-monologue.
Harry looked at them both for a moment, then said simply, "You'd lose out on good sex with a guy you know can please you. Well... and any future fun if you decide to take on those Runes we talked about earlier."
Daphne didn't react even still, except the faintest of narrowing around her eyes.
Harry shrugged then, putting his other arm up on the back of the bench too, now that he was sure he wasn't about to be attacked, and spoke more easily for the same reason, "Neither of us have much to gain by hurting the other, but we both have things that we don't want to lose. It wouldn't be worth it."
The girls shared a look, one that he could tell spoke volumes between each other. It made sense of course, they had been friends for their entire lives, and at least for a year, lovers. It was likely they each knew the other better than themselves. It was a bit disconcerting though, when he remembered that both were highly intelligent and cunning. There were also two of them, and just one of him. Not that he feared an attack, but that he might be manipulated into giving something up without intending to, something that would give either or both of them leverage over him. That, he knew, was a distinct possibility, despite both having expressed interest in their current relationships continuing indefinitely.
Finally, the blonde sighed, then looked back toward him. Her voice was quiet, level, measured, but Harry still thought he detected the faintest hint of regret when she spoke. "I will... try to refrain from warning you about it without reason in the future."
Harry decided that was likely the best he was ever going to get, and nodded, "Alright, thank you. So what can I do for you two ladies?"
This time, Daphne answered quickly, as if she'd been waiting for the previous subject to pass before getting to what she actually wanted to discuss, her voice much more animated if still a bit guarded, "Astoria wishes to join in your... revelries. Do not let her."
Harry almost snorted in sheer surprise, "Wh- what? Why? She's just a kid."
"She believes, wrongly, that she is mature enough to make that decision for herself. According to her, she is just as mature as I am, and that if I am able to enter into a Concubine Contract, and am already... active, sexually, then she should be, as well."
Harry frowned, "That... seems a little misguided. Okay. I mean, I can't control her, but-"
"You misunderstand," Daphne interrupted, "I know that if she is determined to be... deflowered, I cannot stop her. She has her own friends and there are others she could go to if that were the case. She does not only want that. She wants you to... be the one. As you were for me. Decline."
"O- Oh," Harry murmured. That was a bit more of a shock, though now that she mentioned it, Daphne's sister had been rather... flirty, to him in particular, ever since she'd seen him shirtless at Sirius' early last summer, and possibly spied on he and Lilith being intimate.
The blonde witch explained, "She has it in her head that you are 'the best lover ever', and that you always make your partner very satisfied."
"Well, I try," Harry said with an unexpectedly bashful tone.
"You generally succeed," Daphne admitted, "but that is beside the point. Regardless of what Astoria wishes, I do not wish to... share the future father of my children with my own sister. She is infatuated, nothing more."
While a part of Harry agreed that she was likely right, something about that statement rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe Daphne wasn't telling him everything, or maybe she was outright lying about her rationale (which, he had to admit, was reasonable, all encouragement of the Weasleys and him enjoying Lilith masquerading as his mother aside). It could've been the infatuation, too. A lot of adults he knew would have said he was only 'infatuated' with all the girls he slept with. He had to admit they might be right, too, given the statistical likelihood of muggles actually knowing anything about real love at his age.
Then again, a great many witches and wizards did seem to find their 'true-love' partners in or just after Hogwarts years. Maybe it was different, for magicals?
Hermione might now. Harry did not.
What he did know was how some of them made him feel, and it wasn't just the feeling of home when he slid inside them, either.
Without knowing precisely why, Harry found himself grinning as he looked at the two girls across the compartment. Then it hit him, as if the train itself had smashed into him at full speed.
The verbal sparring and games, the intellectual one-upmanship, the need to prove that one side's argument was better... all parts of a much larger, more complex whole. What had made him smile, Harry now knew, was that he enjoyed it. Because it was a contest he felt oddly skilled at, considering how naturally introverted he was, and because he liked talking to Daphne and, to a lesser extent, Pansy for just that reason. He also enjoyed hearing their voices, when they weren't belittling his friends.
Even Tracey. He just liked hearing her talk. As little as she said, it was a tiny treat every time she did. Fuck. I'm smitten with both of them, too. I mean, I suppose it's not bad, but... they are kind of... not straight. Hell.
"What are you smiling at?" Tracey asked suddenly.
Harry almost jumped, and felt his face suddenly burning. "Er, N- nothing, nothing, sorry. Just got a bit lost in thought."
"You were dreaming about shagging my sister," Daphne accused.
Again, a reasonable assumption, but Harry could at least say, "Honestly, I wasn't. I promise. Something else pleasant, though. Sorry, I did get kind of lost in thought. I just realized something, and had to figure out what it meant. My apologies if I've ignored either of you."
Daphne huffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest, catching Harry's eye again as it did wonderful things for the cleavage he could see through her robes, "It's nothing. Just... deny Astoria when she comes to you. Please. Do not let her get Runes, either. I don't care if she sleeps with the Succubus, I suppose."
A flash of seeing the end of a chess game months ago made Harry ask another question, "What about Ron? Or Neville, for that matter? I'd worry more about Ron, though. They were... a bit flirty, a few months back, the first time you brought her to the quarters."
Daphne frowned, "They were?"
Apparently new information to her, then. He nodded, not seeing a reason to hide it, "I don't know if it was anything serious, but after I wore you two out, I came out to use the loo there so I didn't wake you. They were playing chess, harmless, I know. But they were also stealing glances at each other, and kind of... well, talking like they were just flirting a bit more openly a moment before. I just got the impression they were both trying to hide something from me, or maybe you if you'd come out first."
"I... see. I suppose there are worse... it could have been his older brothers."
"What, Fred and George?"
She nodded, frowning still.
"Well, I don't think you have to worry about that," Harry told her, "as they aren't even in school anymore. They'd have graduated by now anyway. I don't really think there's anything serious between her and Ron anyway, just thought it was interesting at the time. How would you feel about it if they did, though?"
"Again, there are worse," Daphne said, "but... my feelings on the matter are... complicated."
"I've got time," Harry told her gently, "but if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. It's not my business."
"No, it isn't," she agreed, "but... perhaps your perspective will help. If you are sure...?"
"Sure, go ahead."
She nodded, glanced at Tracey, then relaxed her own posture a little, back to the hands-in-lap she normally used in company, and straightened up a little from the defensive posture she'd had before. "I obviously do not want my sister jumping into... stupid decisions, and make choices that could ruin her life. You are not a fool, so think about all the connotations I could mean by that. I mean them all. On the other side, I love my sister, and want her to experience whatever joy she can in this life before she passes. Because of the Blood Malediction, that has always been something I feared would happen sooner, rather than later.
"Yet, if the treatment works as you and those muggle Healers think it should, she may end up living a full lifetime. Were she going to die in four to eight years, I would encourage her to live life to the fullest, as I have for most of her life. But now? I find myself wanting her to take her time, to experience depth in life, rather than a shallower, broader, perhaps more... hedonistic lifestyle."
That didn't seem all that complicated to Harry once she'd explained it, but there was little doubt in his mind she had simplified it a great deal for his benefit. He had no siblings to compare it to, but by trying to imagine what he would feel like if he knew Hermione or Ron were going to die in a few years, he thought he had an inkling, at least. "I see. Well, unfortunately, I don't know what to tell you about it. I'd be torn too, I think. What about you, Tracey?"
The petite girl blinked in surprise at being called on, then looked at Daphne, "I... I do not know if I trust that the muggle doctors will be able to help. I have done some research. The treatment is not always successful."
"That's true," Harry agreed.
"Because of that, I would still encourage experiencing all that life has to offer, before it is too late."
The statement made Tracey's girlfriend scowl, but she didn't say anything to refute it. Clearly, they'd talked about it before.
"Hm. Alright, I can see your point there, for sure. The problem is, both arguments are valid, but it's hard to choose one because we don't know what the results of the treatment will be. And Divination is shite."
Daphne snorted in a most unladylike fashion, and he caught the edges of her mouth twitch upward for a moment before she schooled her expression, and faked a cough to mask the earlier faux pas.
Watching her blush afterward made Harry's day, not that it'd been bad so far. "Without more information, I'll go with what you asked, Daphne. On one condition."
"What's that," she asked, voice hard but expression still at least a little relaxed, even while still blushing.
"I won't 'initiate' Astoria, as you asked, without your permission. Or," he held up a hand when she started to thank him and, no doubt, to tell him that would never come, "She proves that she is mature enough to decide for herself."
"Who would judge that?" Daphne asked after several minutes of quiet thought.
"Tracey?"
The mousey girl immediately shook her head, "I am too close. You are both potentially biased. It will need to be another."
"If you weren't so... sex-crazed, I would almost trust your opinion on the matter," Daphne told him, "At least, if it wasn't my little sister."
"I'm not sex-crazed," Harry protested, "I get plenty enough to keep that from happening. And it's not all I do, remember? Hermione might work, she's got good judgment, and I can't convince her to do anything she doesn't want to, even if I wanted to in this case."
"I feel though Pansy would be a better choice," Daphne retorted, "She knows Astoria better."
Harry's head cocked to the side, "That's fair. I agree, then. We shouldn't tell Pansy that's what she's doing, though. Once it gets to a point where either or both of us are starting to wonder, then we can ask Pansy what she thinks. So it won't bias her own opinion."
"That will work."
"Alright, then."
Bargain struck, though Harry had to wonder why it'd been necessary in the first place (for as randy as he was, he was not desperate enough to shag the fourteen-year-old without at least discussing it with her sister first), he looked between the girls again, "Anything else? I've still got that thing I mentioned as 'further proof', but we can do that last. I don't want it coloring anything you want to talk about."
"Is it that large a concern?"
He nodded at Daphne, but his answer was a bit less sure, "Possibly. Probably, even. I don't know, you might already know about it. Thinking about it now, it would have influenced the topic we just finished. On my end, and I'm sure on yours as well."
"I... see. You met with Susan Bones earlier. What did you discuss?"
"Not your business."
He had expected Daphne to frown, scowl, or at least narrow her eyes at his too-fast, curt reply. Instead, she relaxed just a sliver more, and her mouth quirked upward again ever so slightly, "Good. You are correct. But I'm going to state what I think the case is. You can confirm, deny, or say nothing.
"She wanted to tell you that she wants to enter a Concubine Contract with you, and soon."
Harry tried hard not to react, but it was obvious there was something in his face or body language that gave it away, for Daphne grinned as if she'd scored a point in their subtle game. Again, she schooled her expression quickly, but she spoke again before he could, "You don't need to confirm or deny it now, Potter, your eyes told me everything. You said yes, I suppose."
"You're- you're half right," he told her instead, "We actually discussed a contract last year. But like you, she didn't want to enter one too early. She mentioned this term perhaps. Now... she wants to move up the timetable."
"I thought she would," Daphne murmured, looking oddly morose about it, "Do not think I would stop you. The Greengrasses and Bones family have been enemies of a sort since the Wizengamot's founding, but I personally have no issue with Susan Bones, and had no issue with her Aunt. In fact, I respected her aunt a great deal. Madame Bones was a personal hero to a great many witches of our ages."
"Ah. I didn't know that, either thing, really. I guess I should've thought about how it might impact you if I did enter one with her. I'm sorry, it didn't actually cross my mind."
Daphne surprised him again with a shrug, "There is no law that sates you can only have one Contract of that nature. It is a bit unusual that we are entering into them for our family lines, usually it is the other way around, but the law does not differentiate. Each Contract is distinct. You can enter as many as you wish, as I could, or she, and so on. It just isn't as effective for witches, given gestation periods."
Harry nodded, "Still, I can see why it might bother you. Competition, if nothing else."
Daphne's gorgeous face twisted into an amused smile, lopsided smile as one of her eyebrows rose very high, "You have enough stamina to spare, from what I have seen. I don't see a need for competition. You are not my primary lover, after all. You and Tracey fulfill entirely different needs for me, even if intimacy is... pleasurable with you both."
"Good point," Harry said, grinning at Tracey for a moment, "I enjoy being with both of you a great deal myself. But what about you, Tracey? I don't mean if you enjoy being with me, I know you do, it's more-"
"I am bisexual."
He shut up.
Daphne gaped.
Tracey looked at her lover, then Harry, and back at her girlfriend, whose hand she sought out with both of her smaller ones, "I did not know before, Daphne," she said quietly, "I had only been with you. I enjoy being with Harry... as much. I love you. I like him. But you both make me... feel very good, and I enjoy making you both feel good. My other male partners, have not been as pleasant. They lacked Harry's skill or care. But I cannot... imagine, any longer, one who cared for my pleasure not being able to please me. I have... dreams, now, too. Of men. And other women. But you are the one that I love."
Daphne swallowed, and Harry knew she could not have hidden the tears that welled in her eyes, never quite falling. "I... I see."
"Hey," he said quietly, when it was clear that was all the blonde was going to say, "Hear everything she's saying. She loves you. Sex and love are not the same. You already know that. You are the one she's devoted to."
"I know," Daphne murmured, glancing at him with a sad, yet happy too, expression. "I know what she said, Potter. I... I suppose it's been my own fault for assuming, but... I have to admit, if I'd known... that you would enjoy it, enjoy him, that much I might not have encouraged..."
"I am glad you did," Tracey told her, "because now I can feel more pleasure, and more happiness. It is pleasure and happiness we can share. It is not only for me."
Eventually Daphne nodded.
Encouraged, Tracey sent Harry a mischievous glance that wouldn't have been amiss on Lilith or Ginny, and reminded her, "Besides, you have not been complaining about that muggle strap-on dildo I got you for Yule."
This time, Daphne actually reached over and slapped Tracey's arm as her face turned bright red, a moment before she buried her face in her hands and groaned.
"Tracey One, Daphne Zero," Harry chuckled, "You should bring that next time we have fun. I've got a trick I'd like to show you, if you do. And hey, no shame, remember? It's not like I have room to judge, Daphne. If you enjoy it, go for it."
"She bought it for me to wear," Daphne groaned.
"But you still enjoy it when I do," Tracey continued teasing.
"Shut up... just shut up..."
Harry grinned widely, leaning back again. "So now that that's settled, let's get to my big one. Unless you have something else?"
Both girls shook their heads, and Daphne uncovered her face just enough to wave him on with a hand before hiding it again.
"Your dad sent me a letter that just got to me late last night, Daphne. I think you should know what it says."
He reached into his robe pocket, where he'd kept the letters sans the bank statements, and leafed through them until he found the parchments written by the girl's father, then handed them to her.
She read reluctantly, but as she did, the embarrassment she must have been feeling faded away into a shock at least as strong as the one Harry had been feeling just this morning when he'd read it for the first time.
Had it really only been... what, seven hours ago?
"A- Adopt... Astoria? But... but why?"
Harry only had one answer, but it was one he did not want to speak aloud. Were the circumstances slightly different, Harry would absolutely have refused to do so. But he knew his enemy, knew Voldemort well. That knowledge had only grown with the memories Dumbledore had shared early the previous term. What Cyrus Greengrass feared was not only possible, it seemed highly likely. Not only that Draco had entered his service fully, or that he wanted Astoria for himself, but that Voldemort would ensure in some way (likely to control Draco) that the young girl would be relegated to the status of a plaything for the amusement of his Death Eaters and himself.
Too, he would definitely seek to have Carinna and Cyrus killed if they stood in his way. That included hiding away their children. The likelihood that either he or Daphne would need to become Astoria's guardian was far higher than he wanted to think about, and it would become a certainty if they didn't do something about it now.
"I've written a letter," he replied, brushing aside her question for the moment, and gesturing at the one at the bottom of the sheaf. He'd spent an hour working on it before they left Sirius' place. He only hoped it was enough. "I haven't sent it yet, just in case it was intercepted. I told him I would if it came down to it, and that I would hide them too, if I was given the opportunity. But I also suggested that they lock up your home in some way, and flee the country. I don't want them caught up in this, and I don't want them attacked."
"But... but why," Daphne whispered again, her voice little more than a whisper, "Why would they have to... to flee?"
"Because Voldemort is sex-crazed," Harry said seriously, and tapped his scar, "Something about me Contracting with Lilith made her abilities to influence people seep through my scar and into him. I know how to handle it. I've got plenty of relief. My guess is that he's getting relief, which is what your dad doesn't want Astoria to be used for, but that he can't handle it anyway."
Tracey, who hadn't yet read the letter, stared at Harry as if he'd grown a second or possibly third head. Daphne let out a quiet, soft little whine as the parchment fell from what had to be numb, shaking fingers onto her lap, and began curling itself back up into the roll it had been in when Harry first opened it that morning.
"Voldemort wants her, and probably you, for his own fun, and to reward and control Malfoy. When he finds out you're out of reach, he'll come for your parents instead. Either to get revenge on you for defying him, or to try and lure you out of hiding. Probably both. It's the way he thinks."
"Damn," Daphne whimpered, more tears streaking down her lovely cheeks, pattering on her skirt and the parchment both. "Damn, damn, damn it... what am I going to do?"
"Nothing for now," Harry told her quietly, but firmly. "At most, encourage your parents to get as far out of his reach as they can for the time being. While Astoria is with the rest of us, she's relatively safe. As safe as we can make her. Now that Malfoy and Nott aren't in the castle, the kidnappings should stop. Voldemort doesn't dare attack the castle directly, not while Dumbledore is there. The weakest link in the chain right now is your parents, home alone, undefended. That has to change. Either they need to leave, or they need to get as much protection as they possibly can."
"Milly?"
He shook his head, "No, I don't think that'll work. I trust Millicent, that's not the problem. But anything about home protections she knows, her family mastered years ago. They have to know ways through that sort of thing. If the rest of her family is firmly in Voldemort's pocket... they need to leave. I don't know where."
"Alright," Daphne nodded, seeming to take his advice and comments with more trust and seriousness than he would have expected.
Maybe she's just looking for any direction to go in, but I have to think I'm right. At least about Voldemort. Maybe fleeing isn't the best option, but I don't know what else to do. Daphne and Astoria will be safer if they leave, because it'll be harder to coax them into doing something stupid, at least.
"I'll... I'll send them a letter this evening," Daphne continued, picking up her father's and handing it back to Harry, who put it away while the blonde continued to collect her thoughts. Over a minute or so, he saw her posture shift from terror to forced calm, and then hard resolve. "If he wants to take me or my sister as a... a p- pleasure slave, V-Voldemort's got another thing coming."
Harry could not believe she'd actually said his name. Tracey couldn't either, judging by her gasp of surprise at hearing it. But it made him smile. "Good. We're behind you. Remember, it's not just you or even you and Tracey. Pansy, Milly, Cassius, me, and all of my friends, we'll stand with you. You aren't alone in this."
"Thank you," Daphne said quietly, sincerely, "I believe we should get going, however. We've already taken enough of your time. Thank you, Pot- Harry."
He stood as she did, offering her a hand to shake, which Daphne did firmly, rather than the dainty way she had done the one time they'd shaken hands previously. "Alright. Remember to go to the quarters immediately after the Feast. Don't even try the Slytherin Common Room this term, not until we know it's safe. That won't be until after Voldemort's in the ground, probably. Maybe not even then."
"I am aware, thank you," Daphne replied, her cool, aloof persona falling over her like a well-fitted robe. "Until we meet again, P- Harry."
"Hopefully soon. Be well, Daphne, Tracey."
"Thank you," Tracey replied, gracing him with a faint smile, before following her lover out into the train corridor again.
Harry gave them a few moments to disappear, then poked his head out and asked Warrington, "That was everyone, right?"
"I reckon so," the bulky older man said with a nod, "You heading back to your friends?"
Harry considered it, then nodded, "Yeah, but I don't know if I'm just staying there. The compartment will probably be crowded. Listen, Cassius. Thanks for keeping an eye out. You didn't have to."
"No," the older wizard chuckled, "but it was the decent thing. There've been a few folk wanting to bother you, but I scared 'em off. Well, scared two. Two others I just said would have to wait, that you were busy at the moment. One Gryff, one 'Claw I think. That loony one."
"Luna? Luna Lovegood?"
"Er... yeah, I think so."
"Okay. Well, don't call her loony, please. She's not. Just a bit... odd."
"If you say so, Potter," Cassius said with a chuckle, then gave him an offhand wave as he started walking, turning to fit past Harry in the corridor as he moved toward the compartments where most of the Slytherins he was friendly with had gathered, "See you 'round. Thanks again for letting the girls crash in your rooms."
"It's nothing," Harry told him, "remember you and Milly are welcome too, if it comes to it."
"Nah. Most of Slytherin's too cowardly to go against us," the boy retorted with a wink, flexing his right arm as he slid the nearer door open, and disappeared behind it.
"Right," Harry murmured, shaking his head with a grin as he turned toward the back of the train and started walking.
When Harry found his friends fifteen minutes later, he had already passed two dozen compartments filled with students who had wasted no time in 'catching up' with those they hadn't been shagging in almost a month. Even without being inside Lilith's territory since they were moving across most of the country from south to north, it seemed her influence lingered. Then again, perhaps they were just horny teenagers who had gotten used to feeling each other up or outright shagging, and did not want to wait until they had returned to the castle.
It was no surprise of course that when he reached the compartment he was looking for, half of its current occupants were at least half naked, the rest more-so if not completely. Ginny was leaned against the back the seat to his right, her arsehole gaping wide with Neville panting across from her. Hermione was next to the girl, on her back, cum running down her chest and from her pussy both, no doubt from Ron, who was next to Neville. Hannah was not present, but Lyra stood, just as nude as the rest, leaning against the window. One hand was raised into the air facing Harry, her fingers slowly waving through the air as the fluids left by the four other occupants rose into the air and gathered before her into a slowly-spinning sphere that hovered in the air. Despite their collective Runes, the four humans looked utterly spent, while Lyra, her own orifices adding to the mix in corkscrewing streamers as well, looked like she was just getting warmed up. "Nice to know you guys are getting plenty of action, at least. I've just been chatting for the last couple hours."
"Don't lie, Master," Lyra chided, glancing down along with him to see the bleary, half-aware looks his friends were giving him as his clothing began to come off, too. "I know you had a couple of orgasms. I still cum when you do."
"Well, yes, two," he acknowledged, his hungry eyes roaming over the three beautiful girls in the room. No matter how often he saw them, it was never enough. Harry doubted he could ever get bored with these three, no matter how many other girls he was shagging. "And they were great, too, but Hannah and Pansy were the only ones. I want more."
"Let them rest," Lyra giggled as his hand fell on Ginny's pale, lightly-freckled arse, one finger sliding toward her still-open and twitching bum-hole, "The boys were very randy."
"Looks like the girls were, too."
"Indeed," Lyra grinned, then raised her other hand, and pulled them apart in the air. The foot-wide sphere of semen and squirt, thoroughly mixed together, split in two. One she left hovering, the other she split again in the same fashion, sending the half back into the other sphere, so that roughly a quarter of it was floating besides a much larger ball. "For you, Master," she gestured toward the smaller one, "a bit of a treat."
He grimaced briefly. As a bloke, the thought of consuming any amount of a guy's leavings was still a bit disgusting, but he was hungry... and there was girl in there, too.
Lyra's eyes watched him calmly, though they twinkled with amusement, as one hand dropped and the other turned to beckon the larger sphere toward her mouth. Once there, she leaned forward and took a bite out of it, almost like it was a pearly, semi-translucent melon. In fact, as it continued to rotate, he could see the smooth lines of her teeth, two of them elongated, had left marks. She chewed it slowly, her dark eyes never leaving his, then swallowed. "Refreshing, and so tasty."
Harry's cock had already risen to full before he'd undressed, but it twitched again at the way she'd said such simple words. Still... he wasn't going to just give in. Over the next few seconds, he shrank and his body changed once more into a feminine form, though it kept his penis exactly as it was. Iris had no compunction whatsoever about eating her present, and with a hand outstretched, reached out with her magic, too.
Like it did with the Succubus, the smaller sphere obeyed her will, floating forward. To her, it was about the size of an apple, and so much more convenient to take a bite of. It was still warm, salty, a bit bitter, but also sweet, tasting of honey, bubblegum, and cinnamon in counterpoint to the boy's more masculine flavors. "Shit," she whispered, suddenly feeling ravenous as the sustenance provided by her friends hit her system before it had even gotten down her pipe. Iris bit again, and again, chewing rapidly like Lyra now was. The Succubus eventually just morphed the shape of her own mass, letting it slide down her throat in a continuous stream so that she was finished at almost the exact moment Iris swallowed the last bite of her own, feeling not only physically full but magically charged...
And more aroused than she had been in weeks.
"Leftover emotions," Lyra explained as the once-man rested a hand over her lower abdomen, which was on fire with lust. "It fades... but if you hold onto it through the feast, I'm sure you'll be rewarded later. Or we can just shag now."
"It's funny," Iris said softly, her voice shaking just a little, higher than Harry's but just as certain of what she said as he would've been, "how I know I can shag all I want right now and still be just as randy later."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Definitely," the smaller girl said, "On your knees, slave. Worship my girl-dick."
"Ooh... I like where this is going," Lyra chuckled, licking her lips as she obeyed. "I'm liking this a lot."
"Not as much as I'm going to."
"Mm... maybe as much."
Iris sighed in pleasure as the alien creature Harry so much enjoyed took the place of Lyra's mouth and worked its tentacle-fingered magic on her length, going deeper into the Succubus' throat, tighter and tighter, until her entire foot-long cock was buried at around the level of a normal human's heart. "Oh, goddess, yes," she whispered, still standing between her friends and their shagged-out bodies, the Succubus on her knees eager for more, just as she was. "Don't stop, you cock-hungry little cunt... take all of it!"
Lyra happily obliged, but went a step beyond too, changing her left hand into a reasonable facsimile of Dean's massive penis. It was smaller than Harry's now, but still about the largest in the school without magic, as the Succubus knew full well. That went up beneath her chin, and she ran the tip of it along Iris' small, petite folds, before turning and twisting until they opened their petals, dripping wet, and allowed her to push her hand-cock inside.
Iris moaned, already climaxing as the huge, dark-skinned erection split her open, while her penis was being massaged and coated with pleasure-enhancing lubricant from every side. Both sets of her genitals came at the same time, coating Lyra's hand and her stomach with fluid, which was quickly absorbed by her body.
The Succubus started moving her arm up and down, grinding first slowly in and out of Iris' cum-slicked pussy, gradually increasing speed and force as her throat continued its work, quickly building up another climax in the shapeshifting witch. Before long, her strength was bouncing her Master up onto her toes, and then completely into the air as she hammered up and in, lifting the girl's whole body with the thrusts of her transposed and borrowed dick, even as the ripples in her throat tightened and sped up too.
Iris came again, and again, and a fourth time, each of them, like the first, from both cunt and cock at the same time, until even Lyra was sated, and she slowly withdrew her hand, now its own shape and size, from Iris' body, and then slurped with her own mouth, cleaning up the back-washed semen as she gingerly scooted back until Iris' member was only in her mouth with the tip. That last bit she laved a few more times, then sucked out the rest from her pipes, before separating with a soft pop. "How was that, Master? Did your slave meet your requirements?"
Iris could only giggle almost hysterically, "Slave- Slave met Master's requirements well. Shite that was amazing."
"Slave aims to please, Mistress," Lyra cooed, then stood up and pressed her lips to the shorter girl's, before stepping back and assuming her more clothed form. "We're almost to the castle, Mistress. You should probably let Harry come back and get dressed again."
"Pity," she murmured back, but did change form once more.
During the feast to welcome back the students for the second term that night, Lyra was the only 'student' not in attendance, but the tables still seemed bare thanks to the huge number of students who had either been killed at King's Cross, or withdrawn from the school. Many, Harry knew, had fled the country in the last three weeks. Of those that remained, nearly a third were Slytherins, a much higher ratio than the quarter or so that normally made up the House of Serpents. Only a few of those, Nott most prominent among them, were not present.
Daphne, Tracey, Pansy, Millicent, Cassius, and now the Carrow twins sat in a tight knot, nearly shoulder to shoulder, on the end of the table closest to the staff table, with several feet of distance on both sides between them and any other Slytherin.
The sight of it made Harry's skin crawl. Not because he knew that a great many of the snakes would side against him. He couldn't blame most of them, it was how they were raised. Not to mention that if they did openly side with him against Voldemort, as that small cluster had done, it would alienate them from their families, friends, everything they knew. No, as much as he wanted to, Harry couldn't blame them at all. It was the reasonable thing to do, even if it was still insane by his standards for anyone to support Voldemort, or his stated mission.
The Succubus was not actually absent, of course. She was merely invisible to anyone but himself and, apparently, Hermione, as she worked her way up one side of the Gryffindor table and down the other. Several students had jumped, not a few looking downward suspiciously as her hands moved into robes and trousers, but by the time the feast was finished, every Gryffindor who'd had the slightest bit of sexual experience before then had received either fellatio or cunnilingus. Some of them, he was amused to note, while having their current girl- or boy-friend right next to them. No one had reason to complain, however, since in each of those cases, the other partner got the same treatment.
Then he saw Hannah jump from the table next to theirs. She twisted in her seat, finding him and his friends quickly. Then she scanned the crowd even as her legs opened invitingly, then moved back to Harry before she sent him a wink. Harry snorted, leaned over to Neville, who sat on his right, and whispered, "Looks like Hannah's got Lyra between her legs."
Far from the deep blush he might've issued a few months before, Neville instead looked over at his girlfriend quickly, a lecherous, though mostly controlled, grin breaking out on his no longer round face. "Hot."
"Yep."
Watching the Succubus was distracting him from the conversation, so Harry resolved to only pay it enough attention to note that she'd skipped Susan in her treatment, but quickly moved on to other Hufflepuffs he'd have never considered. She was hardly as active, but a great many of them, after the initial startlement, shifted to allow her access anyway. It seemed that, by this point, most of the student body was perfectly willing to get oral pleasure from an invisible stranger, regardless of the person's gender.
Harry grinned. No doubt, this was exactly as Lilith had intended before she'd even been Summoned. He wasn't complaining, though, for it suited his own needs well. The more people in the castle down for casual sex, the happier his dick would be. A cough got his attention, and Harry turned to find the stern face of Professor McGonagall looking down at him. "Potter. The Headmaster would like a word with you and your... companion, before you retire for the evening. He has asked me to assure you that he will be up quite late, but does wish to sleep before one in the morning. The password is... his favorite sweet. I'm told you know it."
Harry grinned, "Sure do. Thanks, Professor. Er... could I get a word with you, in the next few days?"
McGonagall, who had already turned away, looked back, her expression as haughty and cold as he'd ever seen it. "Concerning?"
"Something personal. I... well, if you'd prefer, I can come alone. Office hours would be fine."
"That will be acceptable. As you are aware, I am in my office immediately following classes for two hours."
"Thanks, Professor. I'll try and do it tomorrow, but if not the next day."
"Very well. Good evening, Potter."
As she strode away, Harry looked up to Dumbledore, who, far from his normally jovial demeanor, was conversing in hushed tones with both Flitwick and Hagrid, looking grave. The brilliant blue eyes met his after a moment, and he sent a quick smile in response to Harry's nod, then turned his attention back to the other teachers.
Harry presumed it would be enough of a notice. If not, maybe he would surprise the old wizard by showing up. ...Something had to surprise him, right?
He knocked on the door an hour and a half later, after settling the Slytherins into the suite he'd been assigned to hide his Succubus-related activities, using the same arrangement as they'd taken up the previous year, then left with Lyra following him invisibly.
"Enter," Dumbledore's voice rang out clearly. Once Harry and Lyra had done so, the old wizard cast his eyes about, then reached up and adjusted his glasses on his long nose, and did so again. "Miss Sendai is not attending?"
"No, she's here," Harry said with a faint grin, gesturing at the empty space next to him. Lyra shimmered into view with a pleased grin.
"Good to know even your magic specs can't see me when I'm fully invisible," she chirped, then hopped down into one of the two soft chairs that normally filled that half of the large office. "What's up?"
Dumbledore waited until Harry sat as well, his fingers steepled, and even looking amused for a moment. That slight happiness was gone the moment he began speaking. "I am afraid I have bad news. Mr. Nott has not been found. In fact, things are, if anything, worse. No other students have gone missing, but there have been three murders in Hogsmeade Village over the last three weeks. The first was the night of Yule."
Harry groaned, "On Christmas? What the hell? Who would do that?"
"Voldemort would," Dumbledore said simply, "though I suspect this was not him personally. It is... not his style. The first murder was actually two, a young couple out for an evening stroll. The witness who found them claimed that they had been visiting a family member of the young woman, and were on their way to the young man's family home. Both were rather brutally ripped apart by something with a great deal of strength. Contusions littered their bodies, and the lethal injuries were... likely from being torn asunder. They bled out. I would have suspected Inferi, given the brutality of the attack, but there were no human tracks, no smeared blood, no body parts."
"Fuck," Harry muttered, his previous joy fading as quickly as Dumbledore's had. "That's... who? Do we know anything?"
"Unfortunately, no," Dumbledore sighed, "There were precious few tracks. What was there seemed unusual, clearly not human. Almost reptilian. Too small to be an adult dragon, and there was no accessory metatarsus."
"The back claw," he clarified in response to Harry's confused look. "Like chickens, most draconids have three to four 'toes' which extend to the front, as in many reptilian or saurian creatures. Dragons also have a rear-facing claw, which most reptiles do not. That is, in fact, a distinguishing characteristic of dragons as opposed to other large, magical lizards."
"Okay," Harry said with a frown, "But if it was like a dragon but not a dragon, what was it?"
"I do not know. It was large, heavy. The tracks in the snow, which was quite deep that evening, penetrated several inches into frozen ground. It walked on two feet. I would estimate the creature is perhaps fifteen feet at the shoulder, and probably weighs in excess of three hundred and fifty stone."
Harry whistled, impressed even as he was horrified.
Lyra, confused, asked aloud, "Stone? How much is that?"
Harry shook his head, surprised she hadn't just pulled the information from his head, then answered, "About five thousand pounds."
She suddenly looked impressed, too, "Wow. There's only... three land predators on my plane that come anywhere close to that, and no sea creature weighs even half that. Or its equivalent, anyway."
Dumbledore seemed intrigued by the statement, "Your sea creatures grow smaller than your land-based ones?"
She nodded, "Yes. I know it's different here, but remember that our plane is finite, and much smaller than your world. Our entire existence is smaller than the continent of Europe. Our seas are two, Engithratt, and Ivrennthrom, the larger of the two. Both are land-locked. The borders of our world are chaos. Mist. Nothing comes in, nothing goes out. Or at least, what goes in doesn't come back out."
"Fascinating," Dumbledore murmured.
Harry found himself agreeing, but quickly pulled the subject back to the more pressing matter. "Okay, so it's big, and has lizard-feet, and it's really strong. That doesn't narrow it down much."
"Ah, yes. It is also bipedal, and either used some method of transport to just appear on the streets of Hogsmeade without being seen or leaving tracks, or it can fly. Furthermore, the attack, while brutal, was rapid enough that neither victim had the chance to scream or call for help."
"Damn," Harry murmured, "This is just getting worse."
"Quite. Unfortunately, that is all we know at this point. Though the Magical Law Enforcement squad and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures are both investigating, at this point it seems unlikely they will turn up a culprit any time soon."
"Alright," Harry sighed, running a hand over his stubbly jaw. "What about the other two? You said there were three separate murders? Or is there just one more, and this one was two?"
"Three incidents, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "The second was... done by exsanguination."
"They bled out, too?"
"Not exactly. Exsanguination is the technical term, in this case, for what happens when a particular type of creature removes and then consumes the blood of its victim. I suspect it was a creature you met an example of just a few weeks before."
"A vampire," Harry whispered, "Sanguini?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "No, it was not Mr. Worple's unfortunate guest at Horace's party. It is well documented that he returned to his home in the Black Forest more than a week before this attack, which occurred on January third. The victim was Mr. Brenton Handish, the proprietor of Handy Helpers. You may be familiar."
Harry shook his head blankly.
"Ah. Well, I am not terribly surprised. Mr. Handish's shop was not exactly on the main thoroughfare of Hogsmeade, but rather set back among a residential neighborhood. He and his children, all of-age, ran a combination business. They did odd jobs for money, but also did a fair trade in enchanting household objects to work on their own, and such. I'm told they were actually fairly well-off financially, but I am afraid I remember little of any member of the family from their own Hogwarts days. Hufflepuffs, I believe, most of them. But as Vampires are a carefully regulated creature in our country, that investigation is being handled by Aurors, and thus I have little information."
"Not from Tonks, or Mad-Eye?"
"I am afraid not. It seems our new Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, has learned that they are both members of the Order of the Phoenix. He has made it clear that while he will not stop us from doing our work, he expects to do the job himself, using the Ministry alone. As such, I'm afraid our usual Auror contacts, aside from Kingsley Shacklebolt, are fairly mum at the moment. And Kinsgley is protecting the muggle Prime Minister these days."
Harry nodded, taking in the information but mostly setting it aside for the moment. He had quite enough to think about with the murders, and keeping the Slytherins safe, and... well, everything. "No other clues?"
"No. We are certain it was a vampire, but beyond that... nothing. None live in the area, at least not that are known. None would have motive that can be discerned. At least, beyond a desperate need to feed. Vampires generally do not kill their... meal, unless they are very hungry indeed. It is easier to milk a cow than to slaughter it, and gives one more food in the long run."
"So nothing. Except the name of the victim, and the probable species of the murderer."
"Precisely. The final... well, it is going to be hard to hear, Harry. I will not blame you if you wish to skip it."
"No," he growled, his face darkening with what Harry knew was a slowly-mounting rage. "Tell me, Sir. Please."
"We... had difficulty identifying the remains. They were... heavily mutilated, far more brutally than that poor young couple. However, certain spells revealed the victim to be Miss Victoria Frobisher. She was quite thoroughly dead."
Harry only realized he was growling, a low, deep rumble in his core, when Lyra's cool, calm hand fell on his arm. "Patience, Master. Focus. I know. We'll find him. But this anger is useless without direction. When we have one, we will unleash every bit of it."
Harry took a single long, slow breath, and much of the tension that had been raging through him vanished. Not as if it was muted, as Harry now knew she could do to him, but fought down harshly by his own will. When he looked up, Dumbledore was appraising him with something between pride and sorrow. "Where was she?"
The headmaster sighed once more, and removed his glasses to rub at his own tear-filled eyes. His voice cracked, "We found her smeared across the steps at the entrance to the school."
"A message? She was left as a message?"
"It would appear so."
"Nott."
Dumbledore nodded, placing the glasses back on his nose slowly, and Harry watched his own ancient hands twist and clench a few times, the only sign of his own anger. "It would seem so, yes. We have no proof, but that is the only reasonable assumption in this case. At the very least, he is likely to have known what happened to her. Like the first pair, her body was... broken. Thoroughly. I will spare you the details, only know that it was very difficult to identify her, and would have been impossible based on features."
"Bastard," Harry growled once more, but this time it was almost as a means of venting. The tight, roiling ball of utter fury in his chest was still there, glowing white-hot, but contained. "I take it you didn't find him."
"No, I am afraid not. However, speaking these things aloud to you, I believe that whatever killed Miss Frobisher may be the same creature that killed that poor couple in Hogsmeade. The same strength would have been useful, at the very least."
Harry nodded. "And no one saw or heard anything?"
"No, during either incident. Miss Frobisher had been long dead already, given the state of decay, when she was left. But the couple had only been missing for a couple of hours, and even in the snow were not yet frozen when they were found."
"Alright," Harry sighed, "Thank you for telling me, Sir. Is there anything else?"
"Not tonight. I have a lead on that other Horcrux, but I must confirm its location before we go after it. Perhaps next week."
"Let me know."
"I will, Harry. I have the feeling that I will need your help. You, and your companion here."
"Happy to," Lyra said solemnly, her former cheer gone as well. "This is madness."
"That it is. Take a dose of Dreamless Sleep potion if you need it, Harry," Dumbledore said, gesturing at a bottle that had been sitting, unnoticed, on his desk.
"I'm alright, Sir," Harry begged off, gesturing to Lyra as he stood, "Lately, nightmares haven't been a big bother."
"I see. Well, do try and have a good night. Please keep the details I have given you quiet, for the time being. Among close friends only."
"Understood. Good night, Sir."
"Again, good night, Harry, Miss Sendai."
He did not remember going to bed in the boy's dormitory.
He barely remembered the next two days.
Glossary: