Love Vow

by TheFirstSolution

Harry is offered the power of the Geass from a girl in the middle of the street one day. Now with the ability to make every woman fall in love with him just by being in his presence, his life in thrown into a spiral of romance, drama and broken expectations. Every female in Hogwarts seems to want a piece of him, whilst dark plots brew under the shadow of the Triwizard Tournament.

5. Chapter 5

Harry read the letter again. Read it twice, three times.

"What does it say?" Rony asked urgently.

Even then he had trouble forming the words.

"Sirius, he's… coming back," he said weakly.

"What? Why?" said Rony. Harry heard her footsteps approaching, and she yanked away the letter from his fingers. He looked up at the girl, whose eyes grew progressively larger as she read the letter.

Her face was white when she raised her gaze to him at last.

"A breakout..." she murmured in a disbelieving tone. "The Death Eaters… those are you-know-who's supporters."

Harry collapsed on one of the couches. Hedwig fluttered onto his shoulder, hooting softly and pecking his ear.

"I know…"

Rony read the letter one more time.

"Swapped..." she read, "...who could do this? You-know-who?"

"I'm not sure," Harry confessed. Indeed, they hadn't encountered any signs of Lord Voldemort since their first year, when the dark wizard had fled the castle, reduced to little more than a malevolent spirit, abandoning the dying Quirrell. The memory of the Riddle in the diary was just that—a distant recollection, a ploy by Lucius Malfoy rather than the true wizard himself.

Rony sat down next to him, and Hedwig, tired of being ignored by Harry, glided to her lap. The girl ruffled the feathers at her neck, and the owl hooted affectionately.

"Do you think… they might come after you?" Rony said, voice uncertain and dripping with worry.

"Here in Hogwarts?"

"That's what Sirius did… but I suppose he wasn't really a Death Eater."

With a start, Harry launched himself out of the couch, grabbed the ink and quill Rony had left on the table, and began scribbling hurriedly on the back of Sirius's letter.

"What are you doing?" said Rony.

"I'm gonna tell him to stay away," Harry said, turning and making to seize Hedwig. She hooted in surprise and flew away to the top of a nearby cupboard. He tried to chase after her, but Rony grabbed him by the wrist.

"Wait, Harry, we need to think about this," she pleaded.

"Think what? If he comes back here, he'll be in danger."

"What if he's coming because he thinks you are in danger?"

Harry paused, staring at her fearful eyes. "I'm fine, I'm at Hogwarts. He'll be out there in the open. Alone."

Rony still didn't ease her grip.

"I know, but…" She stole a glance at Hedwig, who was glowering down at Harry with round amber eyes. "At least let Hedwig rest tonight."

Harry regarded the owl with a mixture of frustration and understanding. As much as he yearned to contact Sirius as swiftly as possible, the bird didn't appear receptive to any more deliveries that night. Reluctantly, he shifted his attention away from the owl. She emitted a final indignant hoot in his direction before soaring through the open window and into the enveloping darkness, presumably on her way to seek rest and sustenance in the Hogwarts owlery.

Harry sat down again, and Rony let go of his arm.

"We need to find out more," she said, "We need details, at least."

"How? You read it, Sirius said the bloody Ministry is keeping it a secret!"

"Dad. Dad must know something, he knows a bunch of higher-ups there," Rony said in a hopeful voice. "I'll write to him tomorrow."

"What if he asks where you learned about that?"

Rony seemed to think.

"I'll say we heard from another student," she said. "Lots of people here have parents in the Ministry. Hell, I bet some already know about the breakout."

"...you're probably right," Harry conceded. "Yeah, Mr Weasley must have heard something."

Rony rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's stop and think for a bit, okay?" She said, offering him a small smile. "We'll talk to Hermione tomorrow too."

Harry nodded reluctantly.

But she was right; acting impulsively wasn't the way to go. The news from Sirius was of such magnitude that it couldn't be disregarded. What were the chances that all the events of that year were unrelated? Inconceivably slim. Harry strongly suspected that those responsible for the disturbance at the World Cup Final were linked to the Azkaban breakout. Moreover, he had concrete evidence of their ties to the Geass. Now, with the looming Tournament, and Voldemort's followers at large, it felt as though he was burdened by a power he almost wished he had never obtained.

The next morning, Hermione was just as appalled as they were. Harry and Rony pulled her into a corner of the castle as soon as they found her on their way to breakfast, and told her the news, shoving Sirius's letter into her hands.

"Goodness… how reliable do you think this information is?" Hermione said.

"Sirius wouldn't have written if he wasn't absolutely sure, right?" said Rony, glancing over at Harry.

"And he said he's coming back too. It must be true," Harry said. "I'm going to write back and tell him to stay away."

"Wait, Harry. Maybe Sirius will be able to find out more if…" Hermione lowered her voice as a group of fifth-years passed by near them, "...he's in the country. He'll be closer to his contacts."

"Right? Maybe it's not bad he's coming back," Rony hurried to say.

"You two don't care if he gets caught?" Harry said angrily, looking at each of them in turn.

"Of course we do, Harry, but, if you think about it, the Ministry will have their hands full with all these other escapees, plus the Triwizard Tournament they're helping organize here," Hermione said, trying to placate him. "And Professor Dumbledore must be helping him, it won't be like he's all alone."

In the end, Harry didn't send a message back. While he still thought it would be best if Sirius remained in hiding, far away from the clutches of the Ministry Dementors, a small part of him was actually glad he was returning. If all these bad signs meant the worst, and he was really about to face a great danger, it wouldn't hurt to have his godfather close. Sirius could also be the person he would finally confide the secret of the Geass in—hopefully without judgment.

For that week, the main subject inside the castle managed to change from Divination to the arriving delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang and the Triwizard Tournament, but Harry found little distraction from his worries. He kept thinking of Sirius, wishing him to stay out of harm's way; the terrible attack at the World Cup; the masked wizards there who no doubt were Voldemort's followers just like the ones who escaped from Azkaban. But mostly, he recalled the tattooed woman and her warning: the game is just beginning. He found comfort to ease his mind in Ginny and Hermione's arms, but couldn't help but be reminded of the Geass every time he was with one of them.

Mr Weasley turned out to be a somewhat unreliable source of information. Although he was surprised the rumors had reached them in Hogwarts, he confirmed the truth, only to ask them in the same line to not spread what they knew. He couldn't tell them anything else for the sake of the Ministry and their own safety.

Harry didn't encounter Diana Malfoy for their paired assignment, and she was conspicuously absent from all their shared classes. Fortunately, Divination was canceled that week, a welcome reprieve for Harry. Along with it, Defense Against the Dark Arts was also canceled. Professor Moody, who had always seemed a formidable presence when spotted in the castle's corridors, suddenly vanished. One day he was there, and the next, he was gone without a trace.

"They're taking him out of retirement for good," Rony said over dinner one night. "He's a legendary Auror, it makes sense they'd bring him back now that they're at large. I reckon he put half of them there in the first place."

"That defeats the whole point of retirement, Rony," Hermione replied. "But it's too bad, Professor Dumbledore will need to find a new professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts now."

Good news, at least for Harry, if the Ministry would be putting an effort into catching the Death Eaters again quickly. He had liked Moody somewhat though, despite his unconventional methods; he had been like Lupin but willing to teach them about the real dangerous magic.

The news of the Azkaban breakout, delivered by The Daily Prophet, sent shockwaves through the student body, instilling a sense of dread and unease. Amidst all this, and the growing castle-wide excitement over the tournament, the week passed in a flash, and, before he noticed, the evening marked for the arrival of the other schools' delegations was upon them.

00000000

"Harry, Harry, Harry…" Rony called over and over as she pulled on his sleeve. "T-t-t-that's him, Viktor Krum… It's Viktor Krum! Harry!"

"I can see that," Harry said as they followed behind the line of Durmstrang students going up the steps leading back to Hogwarts from the Black Lake.

"For heavens' sake, Rony, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

"Only a Quidditch player?!" Rony repeated in disbelief.

"Up close, he's really not that handsome, is he?" said Ginny, who had grouped with them to watch the arrival of the schools.

Rony's head snapped into her direction. "Who cares? He's the best seeker in the world, and he's here at Hogwarts!"

"Why is he here anyway?" Harry said.

"Viktor Krum is finishing his final year of studies at Durmstrang," Hermione said as if reading from a newspaper. "They explained this during the World Cup match, remember?"

"Err - no."

They were crossing the entrance for the Great Hall, and people were stretching their necks trying to get a good look at Krum. His retinue (for that was what it looked like to Harry) loitered near the entrance of the hall, seeming to think where they'd sit, and the whole group following slowed down as they circumvented them.

"Harry, we need to get his autograph," Rony said excitedly, rummaging through her pockets. "Come on, any of you got a quill? Hermione?"

"None here," she said uncaringly, not bothering to stop.

Rony looked at Harry with pleading eyes. Harry shook his head apologetically and continued on his way also.

"Sorry, sis," said Ginny, following suit.

To Rony's visible dismay, Krum and his entourage ended up sitting at the Slytherin table, well away from Gryffindor. Diana Malfoy was back and sitting only a few chairs away from Krum himself, but, strangely, she did not try to engage the Durmstrang students in any way. Her eyes were fixed on the High Table, where her mother (also back in the castle) sat, surveying the Hall with eyes obscured by her large witch hat. Close by, Filch was busy adding five more chairs to the table.

The Beauxbatons' delegation entered right behind the Hogwarts students, and Harry caught the glimpse of a shining head of silver, but before he could stick out his neck to get a better view, Hermione spoke out:

"Why are they adding five chairs? Who are the other three?"

"And who's the other two?" said Rony absently.

"The headmasters from the other schools obviously," Hermione said, annoyed. "And it's impolite to stare, Rony."

"I'm not staring," said Rony, staring at the Slytherin table.

"He's staying for the tournament, right? You have the whole year to look at him, sis," said Ginny. "Look, Dumbledore is about to speak."

Dumbledore was standing behind the table, while the two other headmasters, Madame Maxime and Karkaroff, had sat down, each to his sides. Silence befell the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and—most particularly—guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh. It was the head of silver Harry saw earlier.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her.

"It is tradition in the Triwizard Tournament that the competition starts as soon as possible after the delegations arrive at the host school, however, this time, due to special circumstances, we will sadly need to delay the opening for a week," said Dumbledore, and there was painful whine from the mass of students below. He patiently waited until it died down before speaking again. "These circumstances shall be explained very soon, but for now let us all eat, drink, and make ourselves at home!"

Then everybody went to their plates, which then filled magically with the most varied types foods they had ever seen.

"What's this?" Harry asked, mixing a bowl of a yellowish soup.

"Looks like clam," said Rony.

"It's Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"What?" said Rony.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday last summer. It's very nice."

"French, huh? I'll pass," said Rony, wrinkling her nose.

"At least Luna is getting well with the frenchies," Ginny said, looking over at the Ravenclaw table. Over there, the small blonde with the strange Dirigible Plums earrings was talking animatedly with the Beauxbatons' students, among them the girl with the silver hair Harry could only see the back of.

"She didn't seem the social type," Hermione said, digging into her own Bouillabaisse. "...sorry, I don't mean to talk badly about your friend, Ginny."

"She's usually not."

"Foreign students must be interesting enough to get her attention," Harry said.

"Do you think they're interesting too?" asked Ginny, turning to face him, a dangerous tone in her voice.

"Ahh—Well, Viktor Krum is here, isn't he?" Harry said nervously.

"Exactly," said Rony as if she'd been part of the conversation from the start.

At that moment, a voice said: "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

Harry gazed up at what he could only describe as the most exquisitely beautiful woman he had ever beheld. Her cascading silver hair flowed down to her waist like a silken waterfall, framing a pair of deep, expansive eyes that mirrored the clarity of the sky, complemented by long, alluring eyelashes. High cheekbones and full, luscious lips adorned a visage that could have effortlessly graced the pages of a high-fashion magazine. Her pristine teeth, the whitest and most perfectly aligned he had ever seen, lent an additional allure to her already captivating appearance.

Clad in a baby blue uniform, her generous bosom stretched the fabric taut, sculpting a figure that hugged her waist and accentuated her voluptuous hips. Her overall appearance possessed an otherworldly perfection, almost akin to a meticulously crafted work of art.

Harry jumped on his seat, feeling a sudden pain on his leg, and turned to see Ginny had pinched him under the table. She was watching him with narrowed eyes.

"No," he said to the French girl. "Take it."

With delicate grace, she lifted the dish and carried it back to the Ravenclaw table. From behind, her dress hugged the contours of her buttocks flawlessly, captivating the attention of every male from every corner of the room as she strolled by. Envious and resentful glances shot her way from the girls, their eyes brimming with jealousy and disapproval.

"How scandalous," hissed Katie from a few seats away from him. "It's true the French have no shame."

"I wish Hogwarts would let us wear uniforms like that," said Angelina, sitting next to her, gulping down a blueberry tart. "You'd look good on those, Katie."

"As if I'd ever!"

"I think our uniforms are perfectly fine as they are," said Hermione sourly.

"Exactly," said Katie.

"The Durmstrang uniforms are good too," said Ronie, still stealing glances at the Slytherin table. From their position, it was somewhat challenging to discern, but the handful of female Durmstrang students in attendance appeared to be attired in an outfit resembling that of their male counterparts: a red jacket, matching pants, and sturdy boots.

"Which one do you prefer, Harry?" Ginny asked still in that voice. All the girls close by turned to face him.

"I think… ours is… very fair."

Angelina scoffed, but the other girls nodded with expressions of satisfaction. Crisis averted. Harry, making a concerted effort to avoid glancing toward the Ravenclaw table once more, shifted his focus to the High Table. Just in time, he witnessed the arrival of the three newcomers. Ludo Bagman, the warlock from the Department of Magical Games and Sports they had encountered during the World Cup, took a seat beside Iggor Karkaroff. Mr. Crouch, Percy's superior, occupied a chair next to Madame Maxime. Harry's breath caught in his throat when he spotted the last individual, Lucius Malfoy, who pulled a chair to sit beside Mr. Bagman.

"Malfoy!" He exclaimed hoarsely.

"What's he doing here?" Rony hissed.

No one was able to respond, and so the second course of the feast started, and when they were all done Dumbledore rose to address the Hall again. He proceeded with the introductions of newly arrived guests:

"...and Mr Lucius Malfoy, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Dumbledore. "Who has graciously agreed, in light of recent events, to help secure the castle and its surrounding regions against any present dangers."

Lucius nodded to the students as he was introduced, and received a good amount of applause from the Slytherins, no doubt from the sons and daughters of his friends.

Leaving Harry, Rony, and Hermione baffled down below, Dumbledore went on with his speech about the Triwizard Tournament, in which he introduced the judge that would choose the school champions, the Goblet of Fire, and explained a little about the challenges said champions would face. At the end, and thankfully without any more surprises, he dismissed them all back to their dormitories for a good night of sleep.

As they returned to Gryffindor Tower, the trio continued their discussion about Malfoy. Along the way, Ginny had branched off to reunite with her second-year friends.

"I had no idea Malfoy's father worked at the Ministry," Hermione remarked as they settled into a quiet corner of the common room. The rest of their house was abuzz with excitement over the visiting students and the upcoming tournament, their voices blending into an indistinct hum that drowned out all other sounds.

"He doesn't," said Rony pensively. "Or at least he didn't. Daddy says he hangs around the Minister and other department bosses, but never said anything about him working there."

"That's changed then," said Harry. "He's one of the chiefs now. Do you think he replaced the old one?"

"Sirius did say people might be fired over what happened in Azkaban," said Hermione.

"They didn't have to hire Malfoy though," said Harry irritably. "And now he'll be here at Hogwarts with his wife too."

"I don't think he'll stay here all the time," Hermione said. "Not like the other headmasters."

"He must be planning something," said Harry as if he didn't hear her. "Do you two remember what he did to Ginny in the second year?"

"I do," said Rony seriously. "We can't let him do it again, Harry!"

"We won't."

"Alright, we'll definitely keep an eye on him," Hermione conceded. "But I believe it will be much more challenging for him to do anything this time, not only due to the Tournament but also because Professor Dumbledore is well aware of what he's capable of. I'm heading to bed, and you two should as well, especially you, Harry," she advised.

"But why? Tomorrow is Saturday," Rony whined.

"Yeah," Harry concurred. He noticed Neville, Dean, Seamus, and the Weasley Twins commencing a game of Exploding Snaps in the center of the room, and he felt the urge to join in the fun.

"Suit yourselves, but it's getting late. Goodnight," Hermione said, and before leaving she sent Harry a pointed look that told him she expected him to do as she had said.

"C'mom, Harry, let's grab a seat on the couch," Rony said, walking in the direction of the boys.

"Actually, I am pretty tired," Harry said, trying to sound sleepy. "I'll catch up with you in the morning."

"Oh come on, mate!"

"Sorry, Rony," he said, making his way to the staircase leading up to the dormitory.

Once inside, Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, removed his robe, and waited. Around five minutes later, the door opened again, and Hermione walked in. A smile adorned to her face when she saw him.

"Good to see you didn't stay down there," she said, coming closer to the bed.

"I got the hint," Harry said. "Did you want to tell me something?"

He thought perhaps Hermione had noticed something he hadn't and didn't want to say it in front of Rony, afraid of making her worry. Hermione, however, sat down on his lap and, holding the sides of his face, pulled him in for a kiss. Harry widened his eyes in surprise, but relaxed as her tongue pushed inside his mouth and, grabbing her waist, returned the act.

"What was that for?" He asked after they separated.

"Does it have to be for anything?" She asked. "I want to spend time alone with you."

Harry glanced at the door. "Somebody can come in anytime," he said.

"Oh they won't. The boys are all engrossed in their games, it will be a while before they come up."

Harry said nothing and leaned in to kiss her neck. She shuddered but otherwise had no reaction when he licked the skin beneath her jaw, something she usually loved. He slipped a hand under her skirt and reached for her crotch, but, strangely, she did not open her legs or make his access any easier.

At last, she decided to voice her thoughts.

"I saw the way you looked at those French girls," she said in a neutral tone.

Harry leaned back to look into her eyes. She peered at him evenly, herself trying to read his expression.

"Sorry, I couldn't stop myself," he said truthfully, and a playful smile opened on his face. "Are you jealous?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Am I not allowed to be?"

"Of course you are," he hurried to say.

"Hmn. Don't forget Ginny isn't the only girl you're seeing, Harry. And, remember, you already have me and her, before you think of chasing after French skirts."

"Only skirt I'm interested in right now is this one," Harry said.

He found the buttons holding said skirt and undid them. Hermione held on to his shoulders and lifted herself a little from his lap, allowing him to pull the piece of cloth down. He caressed her beautiful white legs, enjoying the soft skin, before returning to her pussy. He pulled her frilly underwear aside (she favored those) and inserted two fingers. Despite her attitude, she was soaking down there. She moaned as he started a come-hither movement inside her.

"You two are my girls, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he continued, whispering into her ear.

"...that's… ah… good to hear…"

He played with her a bit more, scratching her vaginal channel gently while planting kisses on her neck, before saying:

"Turn around," he said hoarsely.

"We have to be quick," she warned him, but her hands were already on his trousers, undoing the buckle to pull his cock out. Finally, she turned around and raised her hips, directing his penis to her entrances. "Where do you want it?"

"Back."

"Use the spell then," she told him, and Harry produced his wand from the pockets of his discarded robe. He cast the lubrication spell: a cold feeling crept up from the base of his cock to the tip, and clear gelatinous liquid covered it a second later. Hermione shuddered, feeling the same coldness spread inside her.

She guided his cock to the entrance of her anus so the tip was touching the wrinkled pink flesh. She lowered herself, and the ring parted to allow his rod inside; with the spell and the experience of their past encounters, he slipped inside easily, and was left to enjoy only the delicious pressure of her back side. His cock was fully sheathed in an instant, and Hermione held on to his knees for support. She started to bounce up and down; his penis disappeared inside her, and her anus stretched and retracted with the movements.

Groaning, he grabbed the bountiful flesh of her arse and squeezed, and Hermione squeezed her channel in response.

"I love… fucking your arse, Hermione…"

Hermione was breathing heavily already, and a drop of sweat ran down the side of her face.

"And I… love… hmm… feeling you there…" she said, with some difficulty. "But you… need to cum quickly…"

"I know… I'm close… go faster," he said, and Hermione picked up her pace. The sound of her ass and thighs slapping against his lap filled the bedroom. "Now! Hermione, I'm gonna…"

She pushed down one last time and squeezed her muscles just as the orgasm bleached Harry's mind. He sunk his finger into her flesh and basked in feeling as his seed filled her bowels. When it passed, he let her go and fell backwards onto the bed, body relaxing.

Harry felt her rising up, his cock slipping outside of her, and heard her steps around the room. He opened one eye to see Hermione opening the one of the dorm's set windows. She cast a spell and there was a gust of wind around the room, flowing outside, and clearing it of the smell of sex.

Hermione walked back to the bed and picked up her skirt, dressing herself; Harry sat up again.

"Thanks, Hermione, that was great," he said. He grabbed a sheet and cleaned up his soft cock before tuckign it away inside his pants.

She leaned down and kissed him on the lips again.

"I love you, Harry," she said, caressing his face

"I love you too," he replied. There was a sudden knock at the door. Harry and Hermione's necks snapped in its direction.

"Harry, are you awake? I'm coming in," came Ginny's voice from outside. Harry and Hermione's eyes widened, and they separated in a hurry. Hermione roamed her hands on her body, struggling to straighten her clothes.

The old wooden door cracked as it opened, and Ginny walked inside. She stopped on her feet when she saw Hermione in the room, standing near Neville's bed.

"Hermione?" She said nervously. Harry supposed finding Hermione (or Rony for that matter) in his dormitory wouldn't be an extraordinary event for anyone, and the girl was more concerned with what Hermione would think of her coming there herself.

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione said.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry said. "Something wrong?"

Ginny fidgeted. "I wanted to… talk to you… about..."

"Well, I should go to bed," Hermione said as Ginny trailed off. "Harry, remember to finish up on the Magical Creatures assignment. Hagrid wants us to know how to deal with the Blast-Ended Skrewts by the next lesson."

"Sure, Hermione. G' Night."

"Good night. Good night, Ginny," Hermione said as she passed by her on the way to the door.

"...good night, Hermione."

The door clicked shut behind her, and Ginny turned to Harry, offering him an apologetic smile.

"Guess she'll think we're together now. So much for secrets," Ginny said, shoulders falling.

Harry had never told the redhead Hermione had seen them in the act before, so naturally Ginny still thought no one knew about them.

"Maybe she'll think you just want to ask me something about Quidditch?" Harry offered.

"C'mon, Harry, what could I want to do here alone with you?" Ginny said, grinning, not realizing her own words could apply to Hermione as well. She walked up to his side and hugged him over the shoulder, pulling him into a kiss.

"I see your point," Harry said as they broke the kiss. "It's fine, right? I mean, it's Hermione."

"Yeah… it should be."

"So… anything special you wanted to say to me?"

Ginny bit her lower lip. "Sorry for the way I acted during the feast."

Harry furrowed his brow. "What way?"

"You know, jealous."

Harry laughed gently.

"It's alright, Ginny."

"I just didn't like when those french slags came over you, shoving their tits on your face."

"Was there more than one? And I don't think that's what happened…"

Ginny pouted. "Whatever. I don't want any floozies near my boyfriend. This," she said, grabbing his groin over the fabric of the trousers, "is mine."

"Haha, alright..."

Ginny smiled and pecked his lips. "But let me make it up to you." She dropped to her knees. Harry's trousers got undone by someone else for the second time in thirty minutes.

Harry panicked when he realized what she wanted to do. He hadn't cleaned his penis with magic yet.

"Wait, Ginny, someone might come."

"I'll finish you in no time."

She pulled his soft cock out.

Harry could only hope the taste wasn't too strange, but the knowledge of where he had been before excited him, and he was hard again in moments. Ginny didn't complain, she sucked and licked all over his cock like a popsicle, running the tip of her tongue from base to head then back down again. She took him inside her mouth, swallowing his mast, making gagging sounds before pulling her head and doing it again.

Harry closed his eyes and imagined a scene with himself, Hermione, and Ginny naked in the same bed. In the fantasy, he was shoving his cock in Hermione's arsehole, who had her butt up in the air. Ginny was kneeling on the bed with mouth hanging open, waiting, and Harry pulled out from Hermione's hole and thrusted into Ginny's. He came with a grunt.

When he came to, he saw himself holding Ginny's and pushing her down forcefully against his groin; he had spent himself deep in her throat. He let her go, and the girl jerked back, coughing.

"Sorry, Ginny, are you alright?"

She coughed a bit more and rubbed her throat. "I'm… argh… fine."

Harry waited for the girl to recompose. There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him, but she was smiling.

"How was it?" She asked lovingly.

"Great," he said, and she beamed. "And my cock?"

"Delicious."

0000000

There was a lot of movement within and outside of Hogwarts in the next couple of days. The foreign students wandered the halls and corridors of the castle, analyzing every portrait and tapestry with scrutiny. The Durmstrang students looked impressed, while the Beauxbatons students didn't seem to quite like the aesthetics and wrinkled their noses at all the square edges and metal armors.

On the grounds, people ventured to the edge of the Black Lake or around Hagrid's cabin to gaze at the enormous ship of the Durmstrag delegation or to see the pegasuses and the Beauxbatons carriage. Even Harry, Hermione, and Rony couldn't claim to be above their curiosity and spent an afternoon with Hagrid checking them out.

"How do you think they're taking their classes?" Harry said to Hermione one afternoon as they walked together, S.P.E.W. boxes in their arms, searching for a good place to advertise her group.

"They must have teachers with them," Hermione reasoned.

They stopped in one of the corridors on the first floor leading up to the Grand Hall; it was crowded with students coming from their morning classes and from out of the castle with their friends.

"And they stay a whole year away just for, what, a couple dozen students?"

"Of course not, Harry. They can use international portkeys to return home. Those have to be sanctioned by the Ministry, but the Ministry is the one organizing the Tournament in the first place."

"I didn't even know those existed," Harry said. Granted, he didn't know Portkeys existed at all until this summer.

"That's how most of the foreigners in the World Cup got there. Some must have taken a train, but those are much slower."

Harry wanted to ask about international magic trains, but at the moment a couple of Hufflepuffs walked up to them.

"Hi, Harry, Hermione, what d'you two got there?" asked Susan Bones, a somewhat plump redhead in their same year. She was accompanied by her friend, Hanna Abott, a shy, blonde and bony girl.

"Hi, Susan," said Hermione, already getting into her advertising voice. "We're distributing S.P.E.W. stickers for people who want to show support to the cause."

"S.P.E.W.?" Hannah said, looking confused.

Hermione smiled, knowing one of them would ask. She went on explaining what it meant and what they wanted to achieve.

"...and we're holding a meeting this Tuesday to talk about our plans. You two should come, we will have snacks and drinks," Harry finished, just as he had practiced.

Susan and Hanna shared a look and held a silent conversation between them. Hermione waited with bated breath for their reply.

"...sounds interesting, Hermione," Susan said finally, "I mean, I never thought much about the house-elves—we only have an old one back in autie's home—but I think you're right. We'll definitely come to the meeting."

Hermione smiled widely.

"Perfect. Here, take the stickers," she said, reaching into the boxes and retrieving a pair of stickers, pins, and a flier with the classroom number and time for their meeting. Susan and Hanna strapped the pins to their uniforms.

"Thanks. We'll see you two there then," Hanna said, looking at Harry.

"Bye, Hermione. Bye, Harry," said Susan.

Harry watched them go, chatting in hushed whispers between themselves. Harry knew why they accepted and felt a bit guilty about it, but when he saw the happy look on Hermione's face he pushed the feeling aside.

"See, I told you we'd find people eventually."

"I wasn't really worried. I knew some people would see reason, even if some won't," Hermione said, most likely referring to Fred and George and their other friends who had refused to join S.P.E.W.

The meeting was a good idea it seemed, and they got more people to agree on coming through the next couple hours they stood there. Parvati and her sister, Padma, also Lavender, a couple more girls from Hufflepuff, and even Ceddi Diggory, the beautiful Hufflepuff Seeker, agreed to come. No boys though. Those didn't seem as interested as the girls.

"I think we got a good number to start," Hermione said when they were just about done. "We should be able to get more people after the first meeting, if everything goes well."

"No reason it shouldn't," Harry said.

"Exactly," Hermione said, bending to pick up her box.

"Hello, Harry, Hermione," said a voice from his side, and the two turned to see another pair of students had walked up to them.

It was Luna who had spoken, Ginny's friend from the World Cup, now in her Ravenclaw blue and bronze robes, and thankfully without the green bottle-bottom glasses; she was much prettier without them. What surprised Harry though was her company, because next to her stood the Beauxbatons girl from the feast, the one who had asked for the dish, and Harry was staggered once more; she was overwhelmingly, almost dismayingly beautiful. He wanted to avert his eyes as if, inexplicably, he might offend her with his mere gaze, but at the same time he wanted to look at nothing else ever again.

"Hi, err… Luna, right?" said Hermione.

"Yes," said Luna.

"Hi, Luna," said Harry.

"May I ask what's in those boxes?"

Hermione explained S.P.E.W. one more time, and what they were trying to accomplish by handing out all those stickers and buttons. Luna nodded along with her explanation as if it was the most interesting thing she had heard all day.

"...and I think the elves need our help to break free from the metaphorical chains we've built for them," Hermione finished.

"I see. That makes a lot of sense," Luna said, then she turned to the older girl next to her. "What do you think?"

"Certainly interezting," she replied. She had a heavy French accent.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce you. Harry, Hermione, this is Fleur, from Beuxbatons," Luna said. "Fleur, these are Ginny's friends, Harry and Hermione."

"Fleur Delacour, nice to meet you," Fleur said, extending a hand. Harry took it, noticing how impossibly delicate it was.

"Harry Potter, nice to meet you."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione greeted back, although not nearly as enthusiastically as she usually did.

"Excuze me, are you the 'Arry Potter?" Fleur asked.

Mostly everybody else would annoy Harry for ever asking, but for such a beautiful girl, Harry could only laugh pleasantly.

"The same," he said with a smile. Hermione watched him from the corner of her eyes.

"Harry is the most famous wizard in the school," Luna said proudly.

"In ze world, no?" Fleur said. "The only person to ever zurvive the killing curse."

"I don't remember any of it," Harry said, still with the pleasant tone.

"He was just a baby. So do you agree elves should have rights, Fleur?" Hermione said.

Fleur frowned at the sudden change of subject.

"I 'ave never zought about it. We 'ave elves in our 'ouse back in Franze, and zey've only been 'appy as far as I could zee. But if you are zey are being miztreated here in Britain, zen we should give zem the chance to be free."

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Not only here," she said seriously. "There are bad wizard families everywhere, and it's not only about mistreatment; everybody deserves to be compensated for their work."

"I agree," said Luna.

"Thank you," Hermione said but her eyes remained on Fleur, almost challenging her to disagree.

"Can you give me one of the bottons?" Luna asked.

"Of course," Harry said, handing one to the girl, hoping to disperse the tense aura building up. "Will you come to the meeting, Luna?"

"Yes."

"I would like one too," Fleur said, and Harry gave her one as well. "I will be zere with Luna."

"Awesome," Harry said.

"Thank you, Harry, Hermione," Luna said. "By the way, is this the first time we meet?"

Harry and Hermione frowned.

"No, we met in the World Cup," Hermione said. "Don't you remember?"

"Oh, right, I remember now. Okay, I will see you two around," Luna said with a smile, and walked away. Fleur followed her after nodding a goodbye to the pair.

00000000

Tuesday afternoon rolled in, and Harry, Hermione, Rony, and Ginny were in one of the unused classrooms on the third floor, preparing everything for the meeting. Hermione had finally convinced Rony to join S.P.E.W. and help them around. A few hours of her time every week or so was a fair price to pay for Hermione to stop her nagging, Rony had told him. Since her sister and Harry (her boyfriend) had joined, Ginny did as well.

"Where would Harry Potter Sir likes these?" asked Dobby, holding a silver tray full of elf-shaped biscuits.

"Over there, Dobby, next to the pumpkin juice," Harry said.

"Thank you for agreeing to help us, Dobby," Hermione said from her position standing atop a stoll, sticking a large poster on the black board. The title read "THE AVERAGE HOUSE ELF WORKS TEN TIMES THE AMOUNT OF AN EMPLOYED WIZARD OR WITCH" and below the poster was filled with various statistics and pie charts. "We will make sure to pay you a fair wage for this."

"No, no, the Great Miss Hermione Granger doesn't need to be paying Dobby anything," Dobby said hurriedly. "Dobby is happy to help her and Harry Potter in their noble task."

Rony laughed loudly. She and Ginny were arranging the chairs in a circle around the room to give a better perspective for the guests.

"Would be rich if we didn't pay a house elf for helping in a meeting about paying house elves," Rony said.

"We will pay, Dobby," Hermione said.

Dobby started to cry, the tray trembling along with his whole body.

"Harry Potter and his friends are so nice to Dobby, Dobby can never repay all the kindness they show Dobby."

"It's fine, Dobby—here give me this," Harry said, taking the tray from the small elf's hands. "You don't have to repay anything, alright?"

"I think we're all good, Hermione," said Ginny, falling down on one of the chairs and letting out a tired sight.

Hermione stepped back from the black-board and spun on her heels, examining the room. She counted the number of chairs and the food trays, of glass cups and hung posters.

"Yes, this will do for a first meeting," she said, nodding. "If we notice we're running out of snacks, we better leave everything for the guests."

"There's enough snacks and juice here for our whole common room, Hermione," said Rony, rolling her eyes.

"We don't want to give a bad first impression, so we mustn't run out."

"Now you're speaking like mom…"

At that moment, there were loud knocks on the door.

"Must be time already," Harry said. "Dobby, stay here by the table."

"Dobby will stay."

"No!" Hermione shouted. "That will look like we're trying to display him. Dobby, sit on one of the chairs."

"Dobby will sit."

Hermioned groaned. "I mean, please sit on one of the chairs, Dobby."

Rony laughed and even Ginny giggled a little. Shaking his head and smiling to himself, Harry moved to open the door.

Beyond, the first to arrive was Ciddi Diggory, tall and shapely even under the Hogwarts robes. She had come with a surprise: Cho Chang accompanied her. Harry and Hermione hadn't been able to speak to the Ravenclaw, so Ciddi herself must have invited her. It must be true the two girls were friends.

"Hello, Harry," Ciddi said, hands in her pockets and a charming smile on her lips.

"Hi, Harry," said Cho.

"Hi… err… come in," he said, stepping out of the way for them.

"Hope it's okay I brought Cho, she was really interested in your meeting when I told her," Ciddi said, walking into the room with the shorter girl.

"No, it's alright. Right, Hermione?"

"Of course," Hermione said, coming up to meet the new arrivals. "Hi, Ciddi, Cho, thanks for coming."

"It's our pleasure, Hermione," Cho said. Both girls waved Rony and Ginny, who were sitting at the far end of the room.

"And who's the little guy?" Ciddi asked, facing Dobby on his chair.

"Dobby is our friend, he is a free house-elf," Hermione said proudly. "And he prefers that way. I asked him to come so everybody can see not all elves want to be slaves. It's all a matter of habit, and if they knew freedom they would come to love it as well."

"How did you meet him?" Ciddi asked.

Dobby jumped to his feet then.

"Dobby was freed from his family of wizards with the help of the Great Harry Potter," Dobby announced. "Dobby's family was b-b-bad, and Dobby wanted to be a free elf."

Ciddi whistled and turned to Harry. "He frees house-elves from evil wizards too? He's a whole package hero, isn't he?"

"Even more impressive than the stories say," Cho said.

"What stories?" Harry said, laughing, enjoying the compliments way too much.

"Harry just did what he thought was right," Hermione said, but her voice was dripping with pride and she watched him with loving eyes. "Alright, we'll begin after the others arrive, please make yourselves comfortable. There is pumpkin juice and snacks by the tables, you can take as many as you want."

"Cheers," said Ciddi.

Susan, Hannah, and the other Huflepuffs arrived soon after. Then Neville (the only boy they had managed to convince) arrived together with Parvati, Padma, and Lavender. The last ones to step into the room were Luna and the French student, Fleur.

All the heads present turned as the French girl entered, the conversations halted, and there was a clear shift in the atmosphere for the colder. Next to him, Harry heard Ginny whisper to her sister: "What is she doing here?"

"Hello, Luna!" Cho greeted her fellow Ravenclaw, breaking the icy silence.

"Hi, Cho!" Luna said. "Are you interested in freeing all the house-elves too?"

"I guess I am now," Cho said, laughing prettily.

"That's good, we should be nice to house-elves, they hold all the dark secrets of the creation of magical society after all."

Everybody stared at the girl in confusion for a moment, and Harry wondered what the hell she was talking about, until Ciddi spoke up:

"Who's your friend, Luna?"

"Fleur Delacour," Fleur said hauntingly, as if her name itself was proof of her superiority. She faced the room, "Nice to meet you."

"Welcome, Luna, and… Fleur," Hermione said. "Please, take some refreshments. Now that everyone is here we will begin soon."

Harry hang back with Rony and Ginny, while the rest took up on Hermione's offer. They all walked up to Dobby to exchange words with him, and the girls fawned over him, saying how cute his ears were. For some of them, he was the very first house elf they saw.

Hermione started her presentation (lecture? Preaching?) right after. Harry did his best to seem interested while she went on about the universal right to… have rights, and the poor conditions house-elves were forced to endure during their servitude; how wizarding families treated elves as inferior beings, and many times forced elf families apart by selling elves or freeing them as a form of punishment. She spoke for a good part of an hour, and when she was done a few of the girls stared misty-eyed between her and Dobby.

"I had no idea…" Hanna was saying as they got up from their chairs again.

"Poor guys," said Susan.

"We need to help them," said their Hufflepuff friend.

There was a general sense of agreement with those statements, and Harry caught Hermione wearing a relieved and pleased smile. A victory, small as it was; a first step in her plan for justice.

He walked up to her as the people present separated in small groups to chat among themselves.

"You look sexy as a teacher," he whispered in her ear.

Hermioned elbowed him.

"Shut up," she hissed, but a smile played on her lips. "Go talk to the others, you're half the reason they're here."

"That's not true," Harry said, but Hermione was already turning away to join a conversation with the Hufflepuffs and Neville.

Harry picked up a bowl with some biscuits and a glass of pumpkin juice and wandered off in the classroom. He walked up to Ciddi, Cho, and Luna, and the girls turned their heads to him as he came closer.

"Hi," he said, feeling awkward under their stares.

"Hey, Harry," Ciddi said. Her eyes wandered along his body, and she seemed to size him up. "I've been meaning to ask, did you go through a growth spurt lately?"

"He does seem taller, doesn't he?" Cho said.

"What?" It was Harry's turn to check himself up. He didn't feel any different. Had he really grown up so much during summer?

"His shoulders are wider too," Luna said.

Were they really? "C'mon, guys," he said.

Ciddi laughed. "He's blushing!"

Cho offered him a small smile. "Sorry, Harry, we're not trying to embarrass you."

"Alright… anyway, what did you guys think?" Harry said.

"She's really serious about it," Ciddi said, stealing a look at Hermione's back. "That's good, she's genuine. Makes me want to help too."

"Yes, she is," Harry said. "Thanks for coming, by the way."

"It's no problem, Harry," said Cho.

"Yeah, think nothing of it," said Ciddi.

Harry nodded. There was a moment of silence among them all, and because Harry didn't want to stop talking to Cho just yet, he tried to think quickly of another topic.

"So, Ciddi, are you putting your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"She's not," Cho said at once, in a tone of finality.

"Wow, slow down," Ciddi said, laughing nervously. "I haven't decided yet."

"It's way too dangerous," Cho said. "It was banned before because students died there, Ciddi. I don't want anything like that happening to my… best friend."

"It will be fine. Dumbledore is overseeing it now, he's the greatest wizard in the world," Ciddi said carelessly. "I doubt he'd let anything happen in the Tournament."

"I'm not letting you take that chance."

"Oh well, we'll see. What about you Harry? Are you entering?"

"I can't, remember? There's the age line."

"There must be a way around it," Ciddi said.

"Didn't you just say Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the world?" Cho said, raising a delicate eyebrow. "He put it in place."

"And I'm only a fourth-year, I don't think I'd have a chance against the other champions," Harry said.

"I think you have a good chance," Luna said. Not having spoken in a while, Harry almost forgot she was there. "You'd be the only one with real experience. You killed a Basilisk."

"That's only a rumor, no?" Cha asked, turning her head at him.

"Err… more or less…" Harry said. Did Luna actually believe in what happened in second year? So few people did.

"Did you actually fight a Basilisk, Harry?" Ciddi said. "You have to tell us all about that!"

"Sure, but maybe another time," he said, urging to get out of the subject. The whole Riddle situation was a topic he liked to avoid. "Where's your friend, Luna?"

"Fleur's over there," Luna said, nodding to the back of the room. The french was standing near the snacks table by herself and looked to be analyzing the contents displayed with a slight sneer. "Oh, I remembered, you should talk to her, Harry, she was dying to speak to you."

Harry, Ciddi and Cho's eyes all went wide.

"Oh my," Cho said.

"Looks like you got a fan from overseas, Harry," Ciddi teased. "Sometimes it pays to be famous. Go on, she's all alone."

"You sure?"

"She's not gonna wait forever," Ciddi said.

"It's okay, Harry, we're about to go back to our common room anyway," said Cho in an understanding tone.

"I suppose I should see what she wants," Harry said, and he left the trio to walk in the direction of the French girl.

Fleur did not immediately notice him approaching. She was still absorbed into judging the food, and Harry used the moment to run his eyes from the tip of her heel to the strands of her hair, so neatly arranged in an effortlessly elegant ponytail.

"You should try the puding," he said, announcing his presence. "Dobby made it himself for today, it's very good."

"I do not enjoy your Englishman food," Fleur said, still eyeing the snacks as if they had personally offended her. "It iz 'eavy and hoarse; it'z full of fat. I'm surprised your women don' roll down your confuzing stairs."

Harry stopped.

"Ahh… I'm sorry we couldn't bring any French food," he said apologetically. "Maybe at the next meeting we can try to find some."

Fleur turned to him, and even that simple movement looked gracious on her. Harry was grateful for his Geass again; would a girl like her even look in his direction without it?

"Don't bother," she said. "Except myself, I doubt anyone 'ere would appreciate it."

"I don't know, my friend Hermione has been to France a few times already," he said. "She ate some of the French dishes we had at the welcoming party."

Fleur seemed to recognize the name as her eyes moved past him to glance briefly beyond, likely at the girl herself.

"And you? Did you have any?" She asked.

"...no. I didn't think I'd like it."

The right edge of her lips curled upward. "Not very adventurouz of the boy-who-lived."

"I prefer other kinds of adventures."

"Is that zo? What other kinds?"

"The ones that happen inside a bedroom," Harry said and immediately flushed red, eyes going wide. Why had he said that? Her overall haughtiness must have been irking him.

Fleur laughed—an angelic sound.

"How forward!"

"Well, you asked…"

"I wasn't expecting zuch answer," she said with an air of approval.

"And what were you expecting?"

"There are… a few tales about 'Arry Potter's adventures around. Luna knows quite a lot of them."

Harry held back a groan. He should have figured. By what he remembered from the World Cup, Ginny's friend seemed to have a few wild ideas about his life; stories, likely from her childhood, that the girl hadn't quite outgrown yet.

"Look, most of those stories aren't true," he said in a mixture of apologetic and annoyed.

"...most? Zo zome of them are true?"

Having just avoided the subject with Ciddi and Cho, Harry was loath to see himself get dragged into it. Luckily for him, Ginny chose that moment to butt into their conversation.

"Hi, I'm Ginny," she said, planting herself on his side, shoulders almost touching his own.

"...'Ello," said Fleur. Neither girl extended hands for a handshake.

"It's really exciting to finally talk to someone from the other schools," Ginny said in a sickly sweet voice. "I mean, you're all hard to approach, so… reserved!"

"Rather than reserved, I'd zay we are zelective to whom we speak to," Fleur retorted.

Ginny's smile fell a millimeter.

"Ah… and I assume Harry fits the bill?"

"Ginny-" Harry began, noticing the hostile direction that conversation was going.

"He does," Fleur said, rising to the challenge. "I wasn't really inzerested in ze boy-who-lived, but I confess, I didn't think he was zo handsome."

Harry and Ginny went red, each for very different reasons.

"As a matter of fact," Fleur went on. "I would love if 'Arry could zhow me around the castle. I was just telling him how confuzing your architecture iz."

"He cannot," Ginny said sternly, dropping any pretense of amity.

Harry feared the girls would start a fight and looked around for someone who could come to aid, but, surprisingly, everybody was engaged in their own conversations. Everybody except Rony, who was watching the three of them intensively, with an unreadable expression on her face. She ignored him as he made eyes at her, asking for help.

"Iz tha zo? Does this leetle girl speak for you, 'Arry? Iz she your girlfriend?"

"And what if she is?" Ginny interjected, taking a step forward.

Fleur smiled almost sinisterly, and Harry was sure she would say something next that would make Ginny explode.

"Then I… apologize," the French said. "This was a very inteeresting presentation, but I must return to the carriage now. Do let me know when you're holding another."

And with that she turned on her heels and walked off in Luna's direction. Harry and Ginny watched her exchange a few words with the Ravenclaw, then make her way to the exit.

When she was gone, Ginny rounded on him.

"Next time, offer to show her around your bedchamber, why don't you?" She said unreasonably, then marched off to her sister with heavy steps.

000000000

"Merlin, you're terrible at this, Potter."

Harry grunted, holding his head as he sat up on the couch he had been laying on during his dreaming session. It always ended like that, no matter how many times he went under the influence of Professor Malfoy's mix of magical herbs. They were supposed to give him prophetic dreams or something similar, but, mostly, it seemed all he got were nonsensical images and a headache after a few times of use. Together with Diana Malfoy, sitting in an abandoned dungeon repurposed into a study near the Slytherin common room, it was already the third time he tried for one of these dreams that afternoon.

"It's not my fault, alright," he said, rubbing a spot on his head.

"As far as I know, you're the only one in class having problems with it," Malfoy said uncaringly, legs crossed and attention focused on cleaning inexistent dirt on her nails. "You're dragging me down, Potter."

Harry didn't care about Malfoy's scores, but genuinely failing a class wasn't something he had ever experienced. Doing it right in front of Malfoy, of all people, was nothing short of humiliating. His own essay, containing the contents of three of Malfoy's prophetic dreams, lay on the short, center table in front of him as if in mocking. Malfoy's own parchment was blank—she had refused to write anything until he could give her honest accounts.

"I can't remember anything; it's all weird dream stuff. Can we just put something there and be done with it?" He tried to reason with her.

"Do you really want that 0 that much? Because mother will give it to you if you make something up again, like in the first class," Malfoy said.

Harry shook his head. Rony has been getting straight 100's. What was the problem with him?

"Isn't there something like a trick? Something I'm doing wrong? Do I have to relax my mind or… I don't know, stop thinking?"

"No. Should be enough to go with it."

"Then why?!"

"I don't know. Maybe you're just inept magically. I always suspected you're almost a Squib, Potter, I'm not really surprised," Malfoy said. She smirked at him while Harry glared back. "...well, maybe there's something I can do to help you. But you'll owe me."

"What is it?"

"Works best if I don't tell you. Come here."

Harry was reluctant to trust Malfoy, but only for a moment. She had been studying this divination with her mother since she was a kid; she must know what she was doing. Picking up the herb-flask, Harry rose and made his way to Malfoy's couch, where he sat down next to her. Malfoy scooted over to the other said, and said:

"Lay down, set your head here—" she patted her lap "—and quick, Potter, I don't have all day."

Feeling unsure, but knowing better than to continue complaining, Harry did so, resting the back of his head on her skirt-covered thighs. They made for poor pillows; too little meat there, he reckoned.

Malfoy took the flask from his hands.

"One more time, Potter. Let's see what's wrong with you," she said, bringing the glass closer to his nose. He took a whiff, closed his eyes, and waited for the magic to work. The last thing he felt before falling asleep were fingers weaving into his hairs, caressing his scalp.

Harry was back in the Great Hall during the sorting ceremony. The Sorting Hat had just yelled 'SLYTHERIN' and McGonagall removed it from his head. He walked down the hall in the direction of the Slytherins under the thunderous applause of his new house.

He sat down next to Diana and the two seemingly mute boys she called Crabb and Goyle.

"Congratulations, Harry!" She beamed at him. She was radiant this time around—had been since he joined her at her cabin in the Hogwarts train. A stark contrast from when he told her off back in first year. Observing her eleven-year old body, it was almost funny how the girl had barely grown at all from that time.

Next, they were in the Slytherin common room. They were having a party to celebrate winning the House Cup for the seventh year in a row; the dark corners of the room had been decorated with silver lights, and animated serpents roamed among the students, carrying trays with drinks on their heads; the glass with the view of the underside of the Black Lake had been enchanted to shine green; music was coming from a wireless somewhere.

Harry had an arm around the waist of beautiful redhead Slytherin (Daphne or something she was called, he couldn't recall), while he recounted his exploits in the Third Floor, where he had defeated Quirrell and Voldemort, to a group of students from all years. An older student had pushed a cup of Butterbeer in his hand.

"...and then there was this huuuge chess board with giant pieces," he was saying. "I had to beat the game to proceed."

The students cheered, and Daphne touched his chest. "Wow, Harry, you're so smart."

Harry shrugged and offered them an easy, smug smile.

"I told you Slytherin was the best house, Harry," Diana said. She was standing in front of him and smiling as well. "You wouldn't want to be with the Gryffindor losers right now. Dead last!"

Harry extended a hand to her, and she took it; he pulled and hugged her by the waist too. Now he had two witches hanging off his arms.

"Gryffindor isn't so bad, you know," he said, remembering his time in the house. "People are fun there."

Diana opened her mouth to reply, but then her body lurched ever so slightly as if she had swallowed a burp. The next instant, she was taller, and her hair was longer. Her eyes focused again, and the girl looked around as if trying to get her bearings.

"So you dream of joining Slytherin, Potter," Diana said. Harry frowned. Hadn't he always been a Slytherin? "Sad to say, you lost your chance already."

Diana glanced down at the arm around her waist, then at Harry himself, then at Daphne on his other arm. She wrinkled her nose.

"Greengrass? You're spoiling a nice dream with this slag?"

"Only slag here is you, Malfoy," Daphne said, pressing herself close to Harry. "I'm Harry's girlfriend, you're the one throwing herself at him."

"There's no need to fight," Harry said, laughing. "There's Harry enough for everybody."

"Potter, get a grip on yourself, you're dreaming," Diana said.

Harry squeezed her waist. "No dreams as good as this."

"That must be your problem: you're too attached to the dreams and don't let the magic seep through. You don't even know you're dreaming," she said, crossing her arms.

"What are you talking about?"

"This," Diana said, gesturing to Daphne. "I bet all you have are these perverted dreams every time."

"Come on, Malfoy, don't tell me you don't think of us going at it," Harry said and he lowered his hand to grab her butt. Even under the Hogwarts robes and skirt, it felt small in his grasp.

"I'm not surprised you dream of laying your filthy hands on my body," Malfoy said with apparent disgust, though she did nothing to remove his hand. "You had to be a pervert to hang around that cow Weasley all this time."

"Don't call Rony that. And I don't believe you, I think deep down you want nothing more than to be my little pureblood bitch," Harry said, and his voice was deeper now, and he was suddenly looking down at Malfoy.

Malfoy flushed scarlet.

"Bitch is your mudblood whore of a mothhduunngg-" she began but Harry cut her off by pressing his lips against hers.

He encased her in his arms, pulling her into his bigger frame. She fought, pushing against his chest, punching and ranging. Harry held her firmly, and thought he was rewarded for his effort when she opened her mouth; he was about to thrust his tongue inside when her teeth closed forcefully on his lip.

"Ouch!" He wailed, pulling back. Malfoy managed to free one of her arms, drew it back far back, and slapped him hard across the face.

"How dare you!"

And she drew up to swing again, but Harry was faster this time. He caught it, and, with the sting in his cheek flaring his temper, he pushed her against a wall, trapping her between the gray cobblestone of the castle and his own larger body. The common room was empty now, and the music from the wireless was the only sight left of the party.

"I dare! I do!" He shouted, face inches apart from her flushed one. "Because I'm tired of your bitchness and your arrogance! I'm sick of you going after me and insulting me and my friends and my parents! I'm bloody full of your resentment because I didn't go with you in that blasted train! Do you want to know why I didn't follow you? Because you're a cunt, Malfoy! Rony might be poor but she's kind and loyal and sweet. And she's beautiful too, I'm not blind. What of you? What's the use of all your pureblood grace and whatnot? You've been nothing but a pain in my sides. So I'm gonna change my approach with you: I'm gonna give you what you bloody want all this time."

And with that he kissed her again, harsher this time. She didn't trash around in his hold, didn't struggle against the kiss, and when Harry licked her lips, asking for entrance, she reluctantly parted them, welcoming him inside. He explored her mouth, licking at her tongue, and it was only a moment before she reciprocated; quickly she was kissing him back just as fiercely and hungrily.

They separated, and for a few seconds they stared into each other's eyes as they breathed heavily.

"Isn't this better than fighting all the time?" Harry said. "There's a lot more we can do together."

But even in that state, he wasn't about to force her. He loosed his grip on her wrists and braced himself for her escape—surely she would shove him back as soon as she was able to. That was not what happened though, and Malfoy remained motionless in his hands as she looked away, face and lips red.

"Do whatever you want. This is just a stupid dream anyway, you won't even remember it when you wake up."

Harry advanced toward her neck—so small, so fragile—he bestowed a series of kisses upon the taut muscles, tracing a fervent journey upwards to the soft underside of her jaw. He released her wrists and held her by her slender waist; she maintained her arms aloft, as though oblivious to his relinquishment of her wrists, but with a gradual descent, they came to rest gently upon his broad shoulders.

He went in for another kiss on her mouth, and this time she pushed her tongue inside as soon as their lips met. Harry recognized her desire, and he pushed himself harder against her, pressing his erection to the lower end of her abdomen, for she was that much shorter than him. Her breath quickened, but rather than retreat Harry was pleased to feel she was also doing the same to him, eager to feel him as well.

Harry brought down his hands from her waist and to her buttocks. He firmly seized each flank and effortlessly propelled her into the cradle of his arms, where she wound her legs around his torso. She possessed such an ethereal weightlessness that Harry found himself expending only minimal effort to keep her suspended in the air.

Sustaining their passionate kiss and cradling her in his arms, Harry guided them toward a nearby couch. As they reached it, he descended onto the supple leather, and finally succumbed to the urge for a breath. Their gaze locked in an intimate communion, chests rising and falling in unison, with Malfoy nestled upon his lap while Harry looked up at her with desire and longing. His hard cock was touching her crotch now from below the layers of clothing, but Harry didn't want to move on to the main course just yet. He wanted to savor this victory, the time when he was wiping off all the smug smiles and smirks from that aristocratic face, to be just a girl under his touch.

"Remove your robe," he commanded.

Malfoy, regaining some of her composure, allowed her countenance to once again exude a hint of its regular haughtiness. Yet, she did not dare to challenge him. Instead, her deft fingers sought out the knot that secured her robe, undoing it, and causing the garment to cascade onto the floor at their feet.

Harry reached for the hairband in her hand, deftly plucking it from her tresses and casually discarding it. Her hair tumbled gracefully to the front, cascading over her shoulders and delicately framing her visage. In this transformed state, she appeared distinct from the everyday persona he had known at Hogwarts, and left Harry uncertain whether it rendered her a more youthful or mature presence.

He grabbed the sides of where her white shirt met and without any warning pulled them apart with all his strength. The girl jerked atop him as the buttons flew around the room, hitting him in the face, landing everywhere around them. The shirt flung open, ruined, and revealed Malfoy's upper body to him.

She did not wear a bra, and the reason was apparent at once: she did not need it. Her breasts were so small as to be non-existent; there were just two small protuberances right at her nipples—mosquito-bites only a bit larger. Her body was small all around and thin: he could easily count the ribs on her ribcage. But all that did not make for an ugly sight, quite the opposite; being paler than even Ginny, Malfoy had a sort of delicate, almost ethereal beauty; her nipples were as pink as her lips, and just as inviting; her stomach, with its pinchable, tiny amount of baby fat, had a cute, shallow belly button. Harry laid his hands on her skin—impossibly smooth—and slid them up, feeling each bone along the way, right until they cupped her chest.

Malfoy, who had been busy removing the rest of the destroyed shirt, moaned when he touched her there. Harry captured the hard nipples between his fingers and attempted to massage them by rubbing the tips together. He did this only for a few seconds, for he couldn't resist long, and leaned forward to take whatever flesh she had on her left chest into his mouth.

Fingers found their way into his hair quickly, pushing his head forward, while their owner moaned prettily above. Harry played with the nipple, sucking and licking, while his other hand still massaged its twin. A surge came over him, a desire to cause hurt on the small girl; he succumbed to it and twisted his right hand with enough strength to make her cry out.

"AAAAAAAAANNNNNN," Malfoy half groaned half moaned loudly, her nails sinking into his scalp.

"I think she likes the pain, Harry," a new voice spoke from their side, and both Harry and Malfoy opened their eyes to see who was there.

Ron was seated at the opposite end of the couch, donned in a rather unusual ensemble of Slytherin robes. Her countenance rested upon the backrest of the couch as she observed them, appearing thoroughly amused by the spectacle they were providing, and she had a hand inside her skirt.

"What is she doing here, Potter?" Malfoy complained hoarsely.

Harry did not respond, still occupied by his work on her breasts. He supposed Rony had come to watch, but why? And when had she joined Slytherin?

"This is your stupid fantasy, Potter, send her away," Malfoy demanded. "Send your blood-traitor awaAAAAAAAAAA YOU BEAST!"

Harry bit hard on the flesh of her chest. Malfoy needed to learn she wasn't giving the others. He would not be sending his friend away. A moment later, he stopped and finally spit out the tit. The area was red and swollen, and the marks of his teeth were more than apparent.

"That's it! That's what she wants!" Rony said, laughing. "I bet she's gushing a waterfall down there. Give it to her, mate, it's time."

"What?" Malfoy managed to utter before Harry swiftly seized her legs and rose from the couch. With little regard, he unceremoniously tossed her back onto it.

Harry went on to dispose of his clothes as fast as he could. He threw the robes away, removed his shirt, and unbuckled his trousers. All of this under the widening eyes of Malfoy and the Rony's mischievous ones. Finally, he stood naked before them, cock hard, red and angry, with a clear liquid dripping from the tip. Malfoy could not look away.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Rony said as if she were an old acquaintance, though she had never seen it before.

Neither Malfoy nor Harry had a comment, but Harry was getting impatient by then. He seized her by the waist and pulled her to the edge of the couch, then gave her skirt the same treatment the shirt had received. Below, the girl wore a kind of black, transparent fabric that covered her body from the tip of her toes right up to her waist.

"No panties! Always told you she was slut, Harry," Rony said.

"Idiot, you don't wear knickers with stockings," Malfoy groaned, perhaps feeling the need to justify herself or a sense of obligation to female fashion.

"That's bullshit," Rony said.

Harry ended their bickering by reaching to her crotch and ripping the fabric apart, revealing the small slit between her legs, and he was assaulted by the smell of baby powder. Could be she applied it there? No matter. He took his fingers to it and pried it apart, revealing the salmon pink inside; Rony was right, she was absolutely soaked there, and his cock twitched seeing her juices dripping slowly out of it.

He grabbed each of her legs and pushed them apart as far as he could, spreading the girl wide. He bent forward slightly, aligning his cock with her pussy, and without so much a look at Malfoy he drove inside her.

She yelled, and her nails dung like claws in his chest. Harry didn't care, he was enjoying her pussy too much: she was without a doubt the tightest he had been in so far. Tight, and warm, and slick. Harry didn't wait long to start thrusting back and forth at his usual pace.

"That's it, Harry, look, she's loving it," Slytherin Rony said. Her hand was moving faster inside her skirt now.

Only then did Harry look down at Malfoy, to see the girl with closed eyes, biting her lower lip. Her boyish body shook with every movement of his, with every thrust of his hips.

"Slap her, Harry," Rony said. Harry looked at his redhead friend, and she nodded encouragingly. "Slap her cheek."

Harry returned to Malfoy, anticipating a protest from the girl for the treatment. However, she remained in her seemingly disoriented state. Then, without hesitation, Harry delivered a resounding slap to her face, the sound of the impact blending with the creaking of the couch beneath them. Malfoy slowly opened her eyes as her cheek began to redden, yet she maintained her silence, and her pussy only tightened around him.

"Do it again," Rony urged once more.

Harry continued his actions, delivering two more sharp slaps, one after the other, to the other side of her face. Each time, she responded by tightening even more. Malfoy, gazing back at him through half-closed, languid eyes, appeared to be reveling in a state of intense pleasure.

"Spit on her face," Rony said, an evil glint in her eyes.

Harry regarded Malfoy's red face and disheveled hair. She was already a mess; he reckoned she could only look hotter with a little spit there. He gathered the liquid in his mouth and let out at her. It landed near her mouth, and, in perhaps one of the hottest acts Harry had seen in his life, her little pink tongue came out to lick at it. It drove Harry to a quicker, more violent tempo in his fucking, and the girl started to tremble, convulsing below him as she came.

Harry stopped and waited for her orgasm to pass. He waited until her body relaxed and her breathing evened, before turning her on the couch so she was on her knees, arms holding on to the backrest for support. From that position, she didn't look so child-like, for he could appreciate her pert butt and pink arsehole. He grabbed her by the hip-bones and inserted his cock in her swollen pussy, beginning to fuck her again.

"Ah… AhAh..ah…" Malfoy moaned lowly, still weak for her climax.

Harry fucked her slowly this time, marveling at the way the muscles on her back moved every time their hips met. They were so small, and he could see the spine-bones there, which looked strangely sexy.

"You should try choking her," Rony spoke up again. She was licking the fingers that had been inside her clothes. They glistered with something other than saliva.

He once again obeyed Rony and reached forward to grab Malfoy by the neck. He pulled her up so her back touched his chest, and tightened the grip on her throat, and Rony started to giggle as Malfoy struggled to breathe. Harry continued to ram into her, pitilessly, for a good amount of time, but despite how stimulating it was to hear her little gasps for air, the position didn't allow him to fully sheathe himself inside her and didn't feel as good.

The leather couch they were on suddenly turned into a large, queen-sized bed of green and silver sheets. Harry slid out of Mafoy's pussy and hurled the girl down on the mattress. She bounced like a rag-doll and fell on her face, and there she remained motionless even as Harry climbed atop her, smothering her with his bigger frame. He grasped a handful of her jumbled silvery-golden locks and used the girl for support, setting his weight on her head. He parted her buttocks with the other hand and entered her vagina again.

"Oh, good one, Harry!"

He pounded away, increasingly more violent in his thrusts, eager to find his release. He was close now, he could feel it. Malfoy, with the side of her face pressed harshly against the sheets, had a countenance twisted by pleasure: her mouth hung open and eyes stared into nothing ahead. Harry relished the feeling of conquest over the girl. Never he imagined he'd have the heiress of the Malfoy House undone under him, writhing as his cock stretched her virginal, proud pussy. He felt the erupting pressure on his balls, and, with one final push, came deep inside her.

The girl came as well, a second time, shaking as Harry collapsed on top of her, face nuzzling on her thin neck. The high of the orgasm passed, and Harry rolled off her to rest on his back.

"You fucked her pretty good, Harry," he heard Rony say after a while. "Was it everything you hoped for, Malfoy?"

There was an angry grunt by his side.

"But I guess the opposite isn't true. Harry's still hard," said Rony. Harry peered down; his cock was shiny with Malfoy's juices, but still plenty erect, the veins popping along its length.

Malfoy rose to a sitting position—hair all tangled up, face red: a far cry from her usual prim appearance—and asserted the truth of Rony's statement.

"Shall I help you, Harry? Someone has to satisfy you," Rony said, leaning down on the bed, in the direction of his genitals. Malfoy glared at her and jumped forward, possessively putting herself between Rony and Harry. She hissed at the redhead.

Malfoy glanced at Harry and, without uttering a word, mounted the boy, throwing her stockings-covered legs to his sides. She grabbed his cock, guided it to her pussy's entrance, and sank down. She started to move immediately, swinging her hips back and forth, grazing their crotches together, and Harry clutched at her skinny thighs to help her along.

"You've been awfully quiet, Harry. Say, what do you think of her cunt?" Rony said. Hearing her speak that away was weirdly arousing to him.

"It's… the best…" Harry said. He meant it too; Malfoy had the best pussy he had fucked so far, so tight and moist she was. The blonde, hearing this, sent Rony's way a smug, superior smirk, and bounced all the faster on Harry's lap. His friend didn't reply, only watched Harry with queer expression that seemed to say: you haven't had mine yet.

Malfoy was bouncing wildly. She gathered her messy hair and tied it into a hasty ponytail, taking it out of the way and giving herself more freedom of movement. It made her look younger again, and the sight of her sweaty, hairless armpits made Harry's balls churn. She bent forward, seeking support on his chest.

"Still not cumming, Harry? I'll help you out," Rony said, and Harry looked to the side to see her grasping the bottom of her sweater. She pulled it up, revealing her belly and got to the edge of her chest before a pair of hands seized Harry's face and forced him to look away.

Malfoy's face hoovered inches above him, expression twisted into a scow. Look at me, she seemed to say. He only heard Rony boisterous laughter, for next Malfoy sunk down into his mouth, tongue invading quickly, searching for a fight with his own. Harry embraced her, pulling her body into his, letting the girl work her hips. Finally, he felt the need to cum return and let his semen out inside the girl once more.

They relaxed together this time, and the girl nuzzled on his neck, warm breath tickling his skin. There was a sound of a slap, and he saw Rony kneeling near their legs, having just hit Malfoy's butt.

"Now that was a proper shagging! You's cum's dripping out of her!" Rony said, eyes fixed on the spot where Harry knew his soft cock slipped out of the smaller girl. Malfoy glowered at Rony, but otherwise did nothing to remove herself from his arms.

Harry was exhausted now, and before he knew the scene had completely changed. He was no longer in the Slytherin common room with Malfoy and Rony. They were no longer with him either. Instead, he appeared to be in a sort of vivarium, with huge bird nests made of straws and tree twigs all around. Magnificent creatures resembling birds sat atop them, nursing their eggs. A specific one, bigger and more majestic than the others, studied him from behind sharp, intelligent eyes, and Harry stumbled forward with his little bird legs until he had climbed into her nest. She received him with welcoming wings, bringing him home at last.

He woke up with a start, jolting himself upright.

"It worked!" He shouted. "It worked! Malfoy, I think I just had a dr-" he began to say, but his jubilation quickly waned as he realized he was alone in the room. The dim light of dusk filtered through the window, revealing that the sun had nearly completed its descent. It dawned on him that he must have slept for hours, and to his chagrin, Malfoy hadn't bothered to rouse him before departing.

He felt moisture inside his pants and checked to find his underwear was drenched with semen. A wet dream, with Malfoy no less, and he had soiled himself with cum. He hoped she hadn't seen that before going away, otherwise he'd never hear the end of it in the corridors. But whatever she had done to help him, he believed it had worked, because he could remember vividly the details of the vivarium, even if the wet dream before was starting to vanish from memory.

As Harry reclined on the couch, allowing himself a moment to collect his thoughts, he suddenly felt a sharp sensation in his pocket, the distinct feeling of a folded piece of paper. Retrieving it, he realized it was a note, its content written in a remarkably neat and stylish handwriting. It became apparent that its owner had surreptitiously slipped it into his pocket earlier when he hadn't been paying attention.

There is something I must discuss with you. It is of ultimate importance. Come alone to the shores of your Black Lake, west of the Beauxbatons' carriage, after the castle's lights are out. Stay out of sight.

Fleur Delacour

00000000

Driven by curiosity, and if Harry were to be entirely honest, a desire to meet the requester, he felt compelled to comply with the note's instructions. He deliberately chose not to disclose this clandestine meeting to Hermione and Rony, fearing their reaction and potential jealousy that might lead to their forbidding it. Thus, under the cover of night, when the other students were fast asleep and only Filch and his feline companion roamed the deserted corridors, Harry embarked on his journey. He navigated through one of the secret passages he was privy to, making his way out of the castle in search of answers.

Emerging by the lake as he had intended, Harry conscientiously followed the instructions to locate their designated meeting place. Anticipating her presence due to the ambiguous directions, he wandered along the lake's edge, searching in vain for any sign of her. To the east, he spotted the carriage with its interior lights still illuminated, but there was no discernible silhouette to be seen, leaving him in puzzlement and uncertainty.

In an instant, a burst of crimson light struck Harry squarely in the back. His wand, which he had kept at the ready for precaution, was forcefully dislodged from his grip, and he pivoted just in time to witness Fleur Delacour snatching it deftly from the air. She materialized seemingly out of nowhere, advancing toward him with the poise and predatory grace of a bird of prey that had spotted its evening meal.

"Good evening, Mister 'Arry Potter," she said in a sweet voice that didn't match her dangerous eyes.

"Why did you take my wand? Give it back," Harry demanded.

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

Harry looked around. They were alone at least.

"What do you want with me?" He said stiffly. "I'm sorry if we offended you today."

"No, no, you didn't offeend me at all," Fleur said, his wand firmly in her grasp and her own trained at Harry.

"...so what's this?"

"I said we 'ave zomething important to talk about, you and me," Fleur said seriously. "But I 'ave to ask you something first."

"...what is it?"

"Tell me, 'Arry, what is your Geass?"

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Harder chapter than usual. If you got this far, please consider leaving a comment, it means the world to me.