Chapter 16

"You okay there, Ron?" Harry asked, pretending to care about his well-being. Harry continued to tug his trunk in a way that threw off what little balance he had.

"Yeah," he grunted as his shoulder banged hard into a door frame as they made their way toward the back of the train.

"You seem to be limping," Harry said, sliding open the door of an empty compartment and leading Ron in. Once in, Harry lifted his trunk like it was nothing and stuffed it in the overhead bin.

"Oh … I hurt my leg a while back," Ron told him truthfully. The next part was less so. "You see, I was out exploring one night and a whole group of Dementors came after me. I jumped on my broom and flew as fast as possible. I dodged between the trees and whipped between houses. Just as they were about to grab me, I shot high up in the air. Of course, they followed after me. I flew so high that I even passed through the clouds!" Ron bragged, very excited to be talking to Harry Potter about his "adventures".

'Soon the papers are going to read RON WEASLEY AND HARRY POTTER SAVES HOGWARTS FROM FIRE BREATHING DRAGONS!' Ron happily thought to himself. 'Then I'll have all of the fame and gold that I deserve!'

"Really?" Harry asked as he sat down. He didn't know what Ron was going to do about his own trunk, and he really didn't care.

"Yeah! I was brilliant. As they swooped in on me, I dove into a perfect Wronski Feint. All of the Dementors flew after me, and I expertly dodged their hands. Then … At the last second … I pulled up! They all slammed into the ground. I saved the day!" he declared. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Then how did you hurt your leg?" he asked. Ron was brought out of his daydream. He seemed to forget that he was supposed to be explaining his injury before going off on a fantasy-filled tangent.

"Oh … Well … As I pulled up, my leg clipped a rock …" Ron thought quickly before his face lit up. " … and I flew off my broom and hit the ground. Then as I lay there, injured and bleeding, the whole group of Dementors surrounded me!"

"Then what happened?" Harry asked him.

"I pulled out my wand and swung it around like Merlin! Golden dragon fire shot out of my wand and burned all of them to a crisp!" he proudly stated as he puffed his chest out. "They're even talking about giving me an Order of Merlin!"

Harry whistled appreciatively. "That's brilliant!"

"It is … isn't it?" Ron smiled smarmily.

"You must be a true hero," Harry said with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. Ron didn't seem to notice. He was too wrapped up in his moment of glory.

"Well, I don't like to brag but …" he began before getting cut off by the compartment door sliding open. In came the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They were carrying Ron's beat-up, old trunk between them.

"Here you go, Ronnikins!" Fred said, stuffing the trunk next to Harry's.

"You almost forgot this," George joined in, messing up Ron's hair.

"GEROFFME!" Ron cried out as the twins rubbed his head until his carrot-orange hair was sticking up in every direction.

"Fred and George Weasley, at your service," the twins said simultaneously and bowed to Harry.

"Harry Potter … Pleasure to meet you both," Harry returned the greeting. The Weasley twins would be useful to have on his side … until he finally decided to punish them for their betrayal. It wouldn't be smart to play his hand too early though. It wasn't long before they left the compartment, leaving Ron to continue regaling Harry with tales of his heroics. Only a few minutes later, the train lurched and began moving. They were off to Hogwarts.

Seconds after leaving the platform, Harry began seeing faces through the window of his compartment door. Most of them happened to be girls sporting pink cheeks and worshipful gazes. 'The Hogwarts experience is going to be so much better this time around,' Harry thought as he waved to a group of third-year girls. They burst into giggles and ran away, allowing another group to take their place. Ron was getting annoyed at the amount of fans that he had. He would send the girls hateful glares, but the girls never noticed. They were too busy staring at Harry.

" … and then I said, 'Look here, fella! I don't care how many wands you have pointed at me! I'm not handing over my sack of gold!' … and then I started punching all of them …"

Harry was starting to get a headache from all of Ron's bullshit. The boy wasn't this bad the first time around. "I'm going to the loo," Harry suddenly said, cutting Ron off mid-fantasy. He got up and slipped out of the compartment. Thankfully, there was a lack of girls hanging around his door. He did, however, see Cho Chang's head sticking out of an opened door down at the end of the train car. She looked his way and blushed fiercely. Harry tossed her a handsome smile. He heard her squeak in embarrassment and quickly retreat back into her compartment. The door slammed shut. Harry softly chuckled as he moved down the train, checking out who was sitting in the furthest cars. He saw the Weasley twins with Lee Jordan, and the three female Gryffindor Chasers were in a compartment not far away from them. Harry took a quick peek. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Angelina. She was wearing a skirt that was bunched up and long, black socks that ended right before they reached her knees. Her light brown skin and budding body had his cock instantly hard. She was chatting away with Alicia while Katie flipped through a copy of Witch Weekly, which just happened to have his face on the cover. As Harry looked in, Magazine Harry looked up at him before glancing at Angelina's exposed thighs. Magazine Harry then looked back at him and winked with a salacious grin. Harry answered back with a wicked smile of his own. It seemed that Harry and the magazine were on the same page. He slipped away before being spotted.

In the next car, there were even fewer students than before. As he made his way down to the far end, Neville Longbottom moved past him, calling out for his lost toad. Harry shook his head and moved on. In the last compartment of that car, Harry smiled as he saw the familiar bushy, brown hair of his former best friend. Hermione Granger was sitting in the compartment alone, reading through a large tome that Harry knew to be Hogwarts: A History.

Harry had gone over his plan for her a hundred times. Practically every time he did, his plan changed. There were times when he wanted to kill her with his bare hands. Fortunately for Hermione, she was quite gifted and would prove to be useful to him. However, he couldn't just let her act on her own and trust that she wouldn't betray him. From studying her over the last couple of years, he knew that she was a complete psycho. From her diary, Harry learned that she had been studying serial killers to determine how they had been caught. Apparently, most of them had become too brazen and self-assured. Hermione decided to come up with the perfect cover. She was to be the innocent bookworm who would never hurt a fly. Of course, that was only for show. The real Hermione Granger would cut your nuts off and have the House Elves serve them up for dinner.

Her attitude intrigued him. She could be very useful to him and his plans for the future. After all, Voldemort had Bellatrix. It was only fair that he had his own psychotic pet. The only problem was her loyalty. Harry had thought it over many times before deciding to go the Voldemort route. He was the only one able to give Bellatrix an outlet for her psychosis, and she loved him for it. Harry would attempt the same thing. He would obviously keep a close eye on her and track her every movement. If he had to, he could change his plans for her and secure her loyalty through less than legal means. That would be risky, but he would go that route if need be. Harry reached out and slid the door open before entering. As he did, Hermione looked up from her book. Her eyes immediately widened.

"You're Harry Potter!" she chirped. "I've read all about you!" she said. Harry smiled and closed the door. He flicked his wand behind his back, casting a Compulsion Charm on the door to keep others away from the compartment.

"Good things I hope," Harry replied.

"Oh, yes! You're quite the hero," she smiled. Harry could hear the disdain in her voice. She wasn't a good enough liar just yet to hide her true feelings. In Hermione's eyes, do-gooders were less than human and should be severely punished.

"I do get around," Harry said, sitting beside her. He couldn't rush this. Upon seeing that Hermione was his "friend", Dumbledore would coerce her into spying for him. How long that would take, Harry didn't know. He knew that it wouldn't take long, however. Despite what the uninformed believed, Dumbledore couldn't just look Hermione in the eyes and see all of her thoughts and memories. Passive Legilimency didn't work like that. Although, he could see flashes of her memories if he used the proper spell. Harry wouldn't put it past the old man to hit her with the spell and Obliviate the memory of it from her mind. Dumbledore would likely do something like this to make sure that she wasn't some bumbling idiot like Ron. Harry guessed that that was the reason why she was chosen over the redhead. Ron was too much of an idiot and would likely spill the beans the first time he became angry at Harry. Because of this, Harry couldn't do his own proper coercing until after Dumbledore got to her. To make the old man move first, Harry needed to show that Hermione was his friend, which wouldn't be hard.

Even though Hermione was sick in the head, she was still human and craved friendship. She just couldn't help but betray them. That was her nature, like the scorpion and the frog. She had an uncontrollable urge to hurt people and do bad things. Unbeknownst to her, that was a major reason why her life was being spared.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, doing her best to act normal. Her act was pretty good, Harry thought. She already had years of practice acting like a good, little girl. "It's nice to meet you," she added with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you as well," Harry smiled back as he studied her face. From her diary, he found out that her prominent front teeth were actually a sore point for her. She had been made fun of since they had first grown in. The students in her school were actually quite ruthless with the insults. One little boy was particularly bad. Somehow, he ended up falling face-first onto the concrete floor. His jaw had been shattered and was wired shut until it finally healed. "You have a cute smile," Harry told her.

The smile instantly left her face, and she suddenly looked defensive. "You don't need to lie, you know," she told him, slightly glaring.

"I'm not lying. You're quite pretty. You have a great smile and big, pretty eyes." Hermione rarely ever received compliments for anything other than schoolwork. Her cheeks instantly turned pink, and she turned away. She sighed.

"My teeth are way too large. Everyone always says that I look like a beaver," she told him honestly.

"Look this way," Harry said. Hermione's head turned, and she looked at him. He whipped out his holly wand and silently pointed it at her. Hermione squealed as she felt something strange happening in her mouth. Her hand instantly went up and covered her mouth. Before she could get angry and yell, Harry conjured a hand mirror and held it up for her. Hermione gasped as she looked at herself.

"They're perfect!" she said, amazed at what magic could accomplish. She kept her teeth together and spread her lips as though she were about to brush her front teeth. Slightly turning her head from side to side, she examined her newly shrunken teeth. "Is it permanent … or will they go back to normal?" she asked him, looking away from the mirror.

"Permanent," Harry answered. Hermione examined herself again. This time she smiled into the mirror, staring at her reflection.

"Thank you, Harry. That was very kind," she told him. To Harry, it almost sounded genuine, but with Hermione, one could never truly tell. Still, Harry played the part.

"You're welcome."

"How can you do magic so well?" she suddenly asked. "I tried some simple stuff at home before reading about the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery," she admitted, confused over the situation. "I stopped practicing after that."

"Underage magic isn't tracked prior to going to Hogwarts. The Ministry tracks underage magic by placing a Trace on you. If magic is being used around someone with the Trace, the Ministry will assume that it is the child doing the magic. Obviously, kids with magical parents can get away with it since they live in magical homes, and their parents are constantly doing magic. You, as a Muggleborn, won't have that excuse," Harry told her. Hermione's face became twisted with indignation.

"But that's not fair!" she declared.

"It sure isn't," Harry chuckled. "Anyway, most people don't know it, but here in his country, the Trace is placed upon first-year students when they first enter the Hogwarts Express."

"That means …"

"That as of right now, we both have the Trace on us," Harry finished her thought. "To answer your earlier question, I've been doing magic for years now, and I've gotten very good at it," he bragged. Harry held out his empty palm before a ball of light appeared. Hermione was enraptured by the sight of the ball of light changing shape. It morphed into a small dragon before taking flight. Its small, glowing wings flapped while it circled overhead. After a few moments of this, it dive-bombed Hermione and blew fire made of light at her face. She squealed and tried to block her face, but both the dragon and the fire disappeared before it even reached her. Hermione looked at him with wide eyes. Harry saw pure greed in her pretty, brown eyes. She wanted his powers for her very own.

"I'm not going to stop practicing magic over the summer either. I don't plan on waiting to turn seventeen for the Tracing Charm to naturally break," Harry told her.

"But won't you get into trouble?" she asked.

"Yes … unless someone already knew how to break the Trace early," Harry smirked. Now he had her full attention.

"You know how to break the Trace?" she asked, desperate for the knowledge.

"I never said that," Harry smirked. "Such a thing would be illegal."

"C'mon, Harry! Please tell me," she begged in a cute voice. When Harry looked at her, her eyes were big and shiny. It was the cute look that he had seen her use on adult men to get whatever she wanted. She scooted closer to him and placed her hand on his forearm. "You can trust me."

Harry refrained from snorting out loud and smiled at her. "Even if I could do something like that, it would be saved for only my closest friends and allies … But who knows, maybe you'll end up being one of them …" Harry told her, leaving that carrot hanging. The greed in her eyes was as clear as day. Hermione wanted power, and she was desperate for it. Being able to use magic outside of school seven years early was huge in her eyes. She wanted it. She wanted it badly, and Harry knew that she would do anything for it. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be glued to his side for the time being. Before either of them could continue, the door slid open.

"There you are!" Ron's annoying voice echoed through the small compartment. He walked in uninvited. "I've been looking everywhere for you," he said, sounding annoyed. Hermione looked at him with a sour expression. It was obvious that she didn't like what she saw.

"And you are …?" she asked, looking as though she didn't really care who he was, which was likely the truth.

"I'm Harry's best mate!" he said proudly, puffing up his chest.

"Is he really?" Hermione turned to Harry and asked.

"He likes to think so," Harry smiled.

"Let's go back to our compartment, Harry," Ron said, looking at Hermione. It was clear by the way he said "Harry" that Hermione wasn't invited. "We can talk more about my adventures!" Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione.

"Why don't you come and sit with us, Hermione?" Harry made sure that she knew that she was invited. Ron's face became surly-looking. Hermione, on the other hand, smirked at Ron and smiled at him in a sickly-sweet fashion.

"I would be delighted, Harry."

She hopped to her feet and stood on her tip-toes to try and get her trunk down. Harry, however, towered over her and easily managed to get it down all by himself. She looked impressed.

"You sure are strong," she truthfully said. "My trunk is full of books. It's so heavy that two Prefects had to help me put it up there."

"I'm strong too!" Ron joined in, glaring at Hermione. "Watch! Harry, let me show you …"

Ron yanked the trunk from Harry's grip. Immediately, it was obvious that it was too heavy for him. The handle slipped from his grip and the corner of the heavy trunk came down directly on his big toe.

"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!" he cried out in tremendous pain. He hopped around on one leg, holding his damaged foot. Unfortunately, because of his previous injuries, his hopping ended prematurely. His leg buckled, and he fell over, banging his head on the bench seat.

"UGGH! Wha … happen …?" Ron asked, dazed.

"Just great!" Hermione huffed, looking down at the crumpled mess that was Ronald Weasley. "He drooled on my shoe. Gross!" Hermione wiped her shoe off on Ron's pant leg. "Anyway … lead the way, Harry."

Harry chuckled and led Hermione to his compartment. After getting her settled, Harry called for a Prefect and told them where Ron could be found. 'This first year is already shaping up to be more amusing than the last one,' Harry thought as Hermione sat down so close to him that their legs were touching.

Chapter 17

'Well, well, Harry Potter … It seems we meet again,' the Sorting Hat said in his head. 'It appears that the first go-round didn't end up going too well for you,' he stated.

'You can say that again,' Harry internally snorted.

'I knew that the Headmaster could be deceiving, but I had no idea that he was willing to go that far,' the Hat said, obviously disgusted.

'He is a tricky, little beaver,' Harry told him. 'Hopefully, this time, he'll get his just desserts.'

'I very much hope so,' the Hat replied. 'I can see that you have a plan to deal with the others that betrayed you as well … I can't believe McGonagall agreed to go along with his plan. She was such a nice girl when I first sorted her.'

'Dumbledore is a master manipulator. Still, it doesn't excuse her behavior,' Harry said as he sat on the uncomfortable stool in front of everyone. Students all around him watched on with bated breath, hoping that the Boy Who Lived would end up in their house. Dumbledore was at the edge of his seat, carefully examining the boy that had caused him so many headaches in recent years.

'It certainly doesn't,' the Hat said, indignant. 'Give her a kick in the ass for me.'

'I will,' Harry smiled.

'Good … Then it better be' … "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat verbally shouted.

Harry smiled and removed the hat from his head. He placed it back on the stool and walked confidently over to the Gryffindor table. All the Gryffindors that were already seated were cheering and giving each other high-fives. The other houses groaned. Only Slytherin didn't react. Harry plopped down next to Hermione who had shoved a second-year out of the seat next to her so that she could be by his side. Harry glanced at the staff table.

Dumbledore was watching him and Hermione carefully. Harry was absolutely sure that the Headmaster already knew that they were friendly. Harry looked at Hagrid who waved his massive arm. Harry smiled and waved back. His eyes then turned to Snape. He hadn't noticed when he first came in, but Snape didn't look the same. His expression was much more spacey and loopy. At one point, he began looking all around him as though something invisible was buzzing around his head. Then he began swatting away invisible bugs or something, only it wasn't with his hand. In fact, he didn't have a right hand at all. Instead, he had a curved hook like the Captain in Peter Pan. Harry wondered what had happened to him, though he quickly put it from his mind as the sorting continued.

As far as he remembered, everyone was sorted just as they had been the first time. There was only one exception. Ron Weasley strutted up to the stool with a superior look on his face and plopped down. The hat was placed on his head, and his face screwed up in concentration. What should have been a private conversation was made public by Ron's big mouth.

"I don't want to go to Slytherin! They're evil!" he shouted. "Not Ravenclaw either! That house is dreadfully boring!"

Ron didn't notice half of the school glaring at him. Fred and George were snickering at him from the Gryffindor table. Harry and Hermione just sat there, amusedly watching it all unfold.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted. The Hufflepuff table groaned in disappointment as Ron shouted again. "NO! That's the house of duffers!"

"Ronald Weasley!" McGonagall chastised him as she walked up to him with a glare on her wrinkled face. She snatched the hat from his head. "Go to your new table without another word or you'll be spending your first week in detention," she threatened.

Ron glared at her and threw the Gryffindor table a look of longing. He gritted his teeth when he saw Hermione smirking at him before sticking her tongue out. She then scooted closer to Harry and rested her head on his shoulder. His plan had suddenly gone awry. He was supposed to be Harry's best friend! His plan was working perfectly before the stupid hat sent him to the house of losers. How was he supposed to be Harry's best mate if they weren't even in the same house?!

Harry found the whole thing amusing. He wondered why only Ron got the shitty end of the stick by the Sorting Hat. Then he remembered that others like Hermione and Malfoy had gotten sorted before him. The hat hadn't been properly informed about the events of Harry's past. Maybe it was just because Ron could be annoying. Harry didn't know, nor did he care. Either way, he found it funny. Besides, Hufflepuff wasn't a bad house. At least it wasn't worse than any other house. Harry watched Ron sit down at the end of the table with his arms crossed over his chest. He would be having a bad time if he didn't change his attitude fast, Harry thought.

The rest of the Sorting ended with Zabini going back into Slytherin. Once the Sorting was done, the feast began. As he bit down on a piece of roasted chicken, Harry quietly moaned in happiness. He had forgotten how good the Hogwarts meals were. He loaded up his plate with plenty of mashed potatoes, buttered corn, peas and carrots, and steaming hot dinner rolls. Harry was a growing boy after all.

Unknown Prophecy

It was late at night, and everyone was asleep … everyone except Harry that is. He was in the Common Room at the entrance to the girls' dorms. If he tried to get up there, the stairs would turn into a slide while setting off an alarm. Obviously, he didn't want that. His Mage Sight was on full blast as he examined the entrance. The protections were simple, yet difficult to unravel. The stairs were enchanted to Transfigure themselves whenever the alarm was activated. The alarm activated whenever an unauthorized individual passed a certain checkpoint. The checkpoint was located on the third step from the bottom. In this case, anyone who was male and wasn't keyed into the school's wards would trigger the alarm. Harry could theoretically key himself into the school's wards, but that was extremely unlikely. The wardstone was most definitely hidden and protected, and Harry doubted that he could convince Dumbledore to key him in.

Thankfully, he didn't need to be keyed in. He could clearly see a mistake in the scheme. There was nothing preventing him from adding to the scheme. Harry pulled out his Veela Hair wand and began adding his own checkpoint to the second step. He then pointed the wand at the inside of his wrist. A tattoo of a black lightning bolt flared on his skin before disappearing from view. Harry pressed his fingers against the spot and pushed his magic into it. The tattoo reappeared on his skin. Harry smiled wickedly. Now he had his own Dark Mark. He then connected his checkpoint with the already existing one on the third step. Now, when he crossed the second step, his Dark Mark would cause his checkpoint to override the other.

The brilliance of it all was that his checkpoint wouldn't trigger the alarm no matter who crossed it. A member of staff could walk right past it and not set it off. It was designed to only satisfy the requirements of the third step if someone with his mark crossed his checkpoint. Now, anyone with his mark could go up the stairs while the entrance acted completely normal to everyone else. The teachers had no reason to examine it. Satisfied, Harry put away his wand and tested his work. He climbed up the stairs, stopping at the third step just in case he did something wrong. He was prepared to run and hide if the alarm went off, but it never did. He took a few more steps … Nothing. Smiling, Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map and followed it until he came upon the door to Hermione's dorm room. Making himself invisible, Harry quietly entered the room.

The girls' room wasn't any different than his own, except it smelled of perfume. Moving past one bed, he looked in and found Lavender Brown fast asleep. The next four-poster housed Parvati who was softly snoring. The only other occupied bed had to be Hermione's. Harry quietly pulled back the curtain and found his soon-to-be psychotic underling sleeping deeply without a care in the world. Harry waved his wand and made sure that she wouldn't wake up. Harry took her hand in his and slipped off the little, gold ring that was resting on her third finger. Hermione had taken it from a girl that had bad-mouthed her. Somehow the girl ended up unconscious in the park with a large gash on the top of her head. Hermione adored the trophy that she had taken from the unconscious girl's finger. She told her parents that she had found it on the side of the road. They had no reason not to believe her, and so she was allowed to keep it. Harry worked his magic and placed it back on her finger. Making sure it worked, Harry moved as far away from her bed as possible before pressing his thumb to his mark and concentrating. He instantly heard the sounds of Hermione's soft breaths in his ear. Nodding in satisfaction, Harry pressed his mark again and deactivated the spying charms that had been placed upon the ring. With that done, he left the room and went back to bed.

Unknown Prophecy

"Now tell us what happened in Venezuela," Alicia eagerly demanded. The three Gryffindor Chasers surrounded Harry as he leaned against the corridor wall, waiting for class to begin. Hermione was off to the side looking on with a sour expression. It was clear that she wasn't happy with the girls. She had a goal, and these whores were taking precious time away from her accomplishing it. It was very important that Harry teach her how to break the Trace. She wanted it gone before the beginning of summer, but if everything worked according to plan, she would hopefully have it gone by Christmas break. At least she would if whores like Angelina Johnson would stay away from Harry instead of not-so-subtly brushing her breasts against his arm as she leaned into him. Harry, on the other hand, appeared to love the attention. Hermione held back a snort. Of course, he enjoyed it. What boy wouldn't? Angelina was a pretty girl with a budding body. That pissed Hermione right off.

Angelina had an advantage that she didn't have. Sure, Harry said that she was pretty and cute, but that didn't mean that Harry thought that she was sexy. Hermione freely admitted that Angelina was sexy. Hermione had already started puberty, being almost a year older than every other first-year. Her hips were widening, and her breasts were developing. She hadn't measured them, but if she had to guess, she would say that she was already rocking A-Cups. Hair had begun growing between her legs and under her arms, both of which she removed using a hair-removal cream that she found in Diagon Alley. Her mother tried the cream as well and absolutely raved about it. It left Hermoine's body feeling incredibly soft and smooth.

While it was true that she was turning into a woman, it was also true that other girls were further along than she was. Harry didn't hide the fact that he enjoyed having sexy, young women fawning all over him. The previous night, practically every girl in Gryffindor circled him in the Common Room, asking him questions and attempting to get to know him. Harry didn't shy away from the attention. Hermione looked down at her small breasts and glared. She needed to step up her game if she wanted to keep his attention on her. Once she finally got what she wanted out of him, she would decide how to proceed. Until then, she needed to play his game. After another minute or so, the whores scampered off to their own classrooms further down the long corridor. The door to their classroom flew open, and the greasy Professor Snape stuck his head out.

"Inside!" he growled.

Harry and Hermione sat on the Gryffindor side of the class toward the back of the potions lab. The other side of the lab was filled with Slytherin first-years, including the blonde ponce himself. He saw Malfoy periodically peeking over his shoulder to look at him. The look on his face was one usually saved for someone who had just smelled something foul.

From closer inspection, Snape did indeed appear to have some type of brain damage. One eye was looking to the side while the other beady eye looked slightly downward toward the ground. "This is potions class! None of you dunderheads will ever amount to anything … Especially you!" he snarled, looking directly at Malfoy.

"Harry Potter … I should have known it was you," Snape jeered at Malfoy.

"I'm not Potter!" Malfoy declared, pulling an ugly face.

"Silence! Five points from Slytherin!" he said loudly. "Just like your father," Snape sneered at the blonde boy. "He was a dunderhead just like you."

"Now wait a minute!" Malfoy cried out, getting angry.

"What is the result of mixing flaxseed oil with a dash of peppermint and ground-up pixie wings?" he asked Malfoy. "WELL?!"

"How should I know?" Malfoy glared.

"Just as I suspected … A complete idiot. Another five points from Slytherin!"

Snape turned away and told them to open their books. Harry was very confused. 'First of all, Snape's head injury must have been very severe if he no longer recognized me,' Harry thought. It was then that he remembered the trap that he had set. Not only that, but they weren't in Snape's normal classroom. Harry held back a snicker. 'It must have been one hell of an explosion,' Harry thought. He never expected the greasy git to sustain such permanent injuries, but he wasn't going to shed any tears over it either. Just the opposite, in fact. Harry found it very amusing. The other thing that confused Harry was that flaxseed oil, peppermint, and pixie wings created a numbing lubricant that gay wizards often used in anal sex. Why was Snape asking Malfoy about that? Harry only knew about it from researching different lubes and their recipes. Apolline wouldn't let him anywhere near her ass without proper lubrication.

The rest of the class began making an easy potion for beginners while Snape glared daggers at Malfoy. Malfoy, of course, was glaring right back. "TIME!" Snape bellowed, banging his hook against the top of his desk. "Bottle your attempts and bring them up to me," he ordered. Harry and Hermione walked up and gave him their corked bottles. Snape didn't even send Harry a hateful look. When Malfoy walked up, Snape "accidentally" dropped the bottle with a smirk.

"Whoops," he said in a sickly sweet voice as the bottle broke and covered the stone floor in potion. "Looks like you'll be getting a zero for the day."

Harry and Hermione left as Malfoy was cursing at the smirking wizard. "What was all that about?" Hermione asked Harry as they entered the corridor. Harry snorted.

"Who knows?" Harry shrugged. "I don't think Snape is playing with a full deck." Hermione nodded in agreement.

Unknown Prophecy

Once Neville, Dean, and Seamus were in their beds snoring, Harry slipped out of his and climbed down into his trunk, pulling the top closed as he did. His Vanishing Cabinets were lined up, side by side. The ones in use were clearly labeled. Harry walked to the one labeled "Fleur" and walked in. Harry closed the door and was instantly blanketed by darkness. After a second of waiting, he pushed the door open and walked into a well-lit room that smelled of perfume. Fleur was laying on her bed and quickly sat up as he walked in. Just as he had ordered, she set up the cabinet in her private room. Harry didn't know if it was a good idea to keep the cabinet out in the open. He was thinking about buying Fleur a three-compartment trunk to store it in. They were pricey, but nowhere near the cost of his seven-compartment trunk. As he stepped up to the bed, Fleur's soft hands were already caressing his bare chest. Just as he had hoped, Fleur was becoming addicted to sexual pleasure, and only he was able to provide it for her.

Her hand dipped into his boxers, which were the only article of clothing that he was wearing. Her soft hand wrapped around him, and she began jerking his cock before pulling his boxers down. Harry found it amusing.

"Slow down, Fleur," he teased her. "There's no need to rush," Harry reminded her. Fleur didn't care one bit. Wearing a short, thin, pink nightie, she slid off of the bed and dropped to her knees at his feet. She tugged his boxers down and began kissing his rapidly inflating cock. Harry stepped out of his boxers as she began sucking on his sack. He ran his fingers through her long, silvery-blonde hair. He loved the feeling of her and her mother's hair brushing against his naked body. It was thick, luscious, and smelled incredible. As he looked down at her, the thin strap of her nightie slipped off of her shoulder. The top of her nightie pulled away from her breast, exposing it to his view. Harry sat on the bed, and Fleur scrambled to position herself between his parted legs. When her lips were once again wrapped around him, he reached down the front of her top and began fondling her soft breast.

Fleur shuddered as his fingers brushed against her rock-hard nipples. When he pinched and pulled it, Fleur nearly came on the spot. She wasn't wearing panties, so all of her arousal was dripping down her thighs and soaking the floor. Her head began bobbing even faster as she took him all the way down her throat.

Harry heard her start to gag as she fucked his cock with her mouth. He was quite impressed with her budding abilities. She had only been giving oral for a short time and she was already close to being on par with her mother. Fleur then took him all the way down her throat until her face was touching his belly. She shook her head from side to side before pulling off of him. She loudly gasped for air, and a string of saliva connected her lips and the tip of his cock. Wanting to reward her for her efforts, Harry pulled her to her feet and grabbed the hem of her nightie. As he lifted it up her body, Fleur raised her arms dutifully and proudly displayed her gorgeous form as he tossed the thin, silk material to the side. Harry placed his hand in the middle of her chest and softly pushed her onto the bed. Fleur was breathing heavily as Harry towered over her. She was squirming and wiggling around sexily and rubbing her wet thighs together. Harry pried her legs open, and he focused on her little, pink slit. He had never seen a pussy that was so incredibly soaked before. Fleur had only gone without his pleasure for a handful of days and she was already close to bursting. Harry slid his hands down the inside of her thighs as she trembled violently. Harry placed his fingertip at the bottom of her tight slit and dragged it all the way up until his finger bumped her clit. Fleur cried out and arched her back, thrusting her small breasts into the air. When he brought his finger up to eye level, he saw that it was coated in her wetness. Fleur watched him, her breasts rising and falling from her heavy breathing. She blushed slightly when he licked her arousal from his finger. The sight made her pussy throb with wanton need. "I need more than one little taste," she heard him say.

Without needing any further encouragement, Fleur spread her legs as wide as they could go. Her taut pussy lips spread open slightly, exposing the damp, light-pink flesh hiding within. Her clit was swollen and ready to be sucked. When Harry dove in facefirst, Fleur squealed in triumph. Her smooth, perfect legs wrapped around the back of his neck. She didn't plan on letting him go until his mouth was filled with her girl-cum.

Unknown Prophecy

Hermione snuck out of her dorm and made her way down the stairs and into the Common Room. She pulled her thick housecoat even tighter and cinched the belt. A cold front had pushed down from the Arctic earlier that night, which made the castle a bit chilly. The fire in the Common Room was still burning, though the flames were beginning to dim.

She had received a secret missive from the Headmaster. It was in an envelope that was lying on her pillow, which she discovered when she was about to retire for the night. All it said was for her to meet him outside of Gryffindor Tower at midnight. With her wand in hand, just in case, she slipped out of the portrait hole and immediately saw the tall, bearded Headmaster waiting for her.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. I'm glad to see that you received my message," the Headmaster smiled warmly at her. Hermione wanted to sneer but refrained from doing so. It wouldn't be smart to antagonize the Headmaster while she still had seven years of school left.

"Headmaster," she nodded in greeting. "I don't understand what all this is about. Have I done something wrong?" she asked, pretending to be a frightened little first-year.

"Of course not, my dear. Nothing at all," he said kindly. "I wanted to talk to you about your new friend, Harry Potter."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Harry?" she asked, confused. "What about him?"

"Harry is a very special boy. Unfortunately, there are many people out there that wish ill upon him. I hope to keep him safe and happy while he resides at Hogwarts," he said.

"That's nice, but what does it have to do with me?" Hermione asked. "I can't keep him safe … I barely know any magic."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled wildly. She had just given him the perfect idea.

"But you can, my dear," he corrected her. "I want you to inform me about what Harry does and who he talks to. Anything that you think is important," he added. Before she could open her mouth, he continued.

"It's very important to keep him safe. As much as it pains me to say this, we can't trust anyone in this castle beyond the few that I have personally vetted. Informing me about Harry's activities will go a long way to keeping him safe. And in return …" he added. "... I'll lend you books from my personal collection. Books that contain spells of great power."

Hermione's eyes nearly bugged out, and she began to lick her lips greedily. Just the thought of such powerful spells made her hands shake. If she could get those books along with Harry breaking her Trace, she would be unstoppable, Hermione thought to herself.

"With such powerful spells, you will be more than capable of protecting your friend. I, of course, will be watching out for his best interests as well."

Hermione nodded quickly. "Yes, Professor. I'll do it …" she said quickly before adding "... for Harry's well-being, of course."

"Splendid!" Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Remember, this must stay between us. It is important that Harry never finds out. It will ruin our cover. We must stay in the shadows until the time comes that we are needed."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Good," Dumbledore nodded as well. "The first book will be on your pillow tomorrow evening just as my letter had been."

"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione kept from squealing in excitement.

"No … Thank you, my dear," Dumbledore responded with a wicked tone that Hermione didn't notice.

Unknown Prophecy

Fleur's squeals of pleasure filled the room along with the clapping of skin as her cheeks rippled from the contact of Harry's pelvis. Below him, Fleur was biting her pillow while her hands clawed at her blanket. Suddenly, Harry received a mental ping. Hermione had just verbally said his name.

As he continued to fuck Fleur into the bed, Harry listened carefully to Hermione and Dumbledore's conversation. Harry gave his own wicked smile. Now his plan could continue.

Chapter 18

Harry smirked as he looked across the Common Room and saw Hermione sitting there reading the new book that she had "borrowed from the library". She was completely engrossed in it and was tuning out everyone and everything going on around her. Harry had to give it up to Dumbledore. He didn't beat around the bush. The man acted quickly, and using Hermione's love for knowledge and her desire for power was a stroke of genius.

Just like before, Hermione was being completely ignored by the rest of the Gryffindors. However, her isolation wasn't nearly as bad as the last time. Just being in his orbit made her somewhat well-known in school. Unfortunately for her, the rule "out of sight, out of mind" applied to her, and now that she wasn't near him, no one cared one lick about her. At the moment, it didn't appear that she cared in the least. Her eyes were quickly darting from left to right as she absorbed the knowledge written on the pages.

"You've really done stuff with girls?" Angelina quietly asked as she sat next to him. She was so close that the side of her thigh was touching his. Harry didn't mind though. She sounded somewhat shocked by that fact. Harry leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Lots of stuff," he teased her. Angelina's brown eyes were wide with surprise.

"Really?" she asked again, unconvinced. "I'm almost three years older than you, and I've barely done anything," she truthfully told him.

The light in the Common Room was low. The sun had already set, and several of the lanterns had already been extinguished. The majority of the light was coming from the large fireplace that was crackling merrily, sending light and heat into the room. Hermione had staked out a nice spot in a comfy chair close to the fire to provide herself with plenty of light for reading. Harry, on the other hand, was sitting on a couch toward the back of the room where the shadows were thick and where wandering hands could go unnoticed. This was where couples usually sat.

"You know, Angie … We can change that," he teased again, letting his fingertips softly graze the skin of her knee. Angelina let out a shuddered breath as his fingers climbed slightly higher. The smooth skin of her thigh was very soft, and Harry could feel the erection springing up in his trousers. He moved his hand around to the back of her knee and tickled her skin. Angelina squirmed from his touch.

"Harry …" she said in a low, breathy tone. "Someone will see," she told him in a slight panic. She was looking around, making sure that their activities weren't being spied upon. She didn't notice her friends Alicia and Katie throwing her annoyed looks from afar.

"You're right," Harry said, giving her thigh one last squeeze. "We'll wait until we can be alone."

Angelina's dusky skin couldn't hide the blush that formed on her cheeks. She opened her mouth but quickly closed it. There was nothing that she could say. She couldn't believe that Harry Potter was so confident when it came to women. She had read all about his tales and had even listened to all the juicy gossip about him supposedly traveling the world with beautiful girls. Most of his heroics could be corroborated. However, she did have her doubts about him and the girls. Now she wasn't so sure. Angelina squeezed her thighs and rubbed them together. 'Harry Potter wants to take me to bed!' Angelina thought frantically. Of course, she was going to let him. She would be ridiculed by every girl in the world if she didn't take this golden opportunity. She would let him make the first move since she didn't have much experience with this kind of thing. All she did was blush and nod like an idiot while Harry stared her in the eyes.

Unknown Prophecy

"Alright class, open your books to page twenty-four," McGonagall called out. This was his second Transfiguration class of the school year, and Harry had already established himself as the star pupil. Hermione, of course, wasn't pleased, but she tried her best to hide her rage. Harry was hiding his own rage. He wanted nothing better than to toss a cutter right at the old bat's neck. Thankfully, Harry was much better at hiding his emotions than Hermione was. Harry smiled and yes, ma'amed and no, ma'amed the old broad.

"Last lesson you attempted to Transfigure a matchstick into a needle," she said, pacing back and forth across the front of the class. "Only Mr. Potter was able to accomplish this," she said, hiding her Gryffindor pride. The truth was that Harry had done much more than accomplish that menial task. He put on a display that had the entire school talking. Harry was here to prove that he was to be taken seriously. He wasn't going to be pushed around and told what to do. Beside him, Hermione gritted her teeth at the reminder.

'For now,' she thought savagely. 'Soon, I'll be even more powerful than Harry will ever be,' she promised herself. The fact that she was receiving books from Dumbledore was going straight to her head.

"This lesson is to be a continuation. I very much hope that the rest of you will accomplish the task by the end of the period. Read the book if you need a reminder. Raise your hand if you need help. Begin!" she called out. The room was immediately filled with wand-waving and terribly pronounced incantations. McGonagall walked up to Harry and placed a bar of iron on the desk in front of him.

"Transfiguring iron into wood is even more difficult than wood into iron," she explained. "Let's see what you got," she challenged him. Harry whipped out his wand and gave it a flick.

The block of iron first changed into wood before completely reforming into a beautifully crafted, antique carousel, or rather a merry-go-round as they call it in the States. It was incredibly detailed and contained several dozen uniquely-styled horses. It was even colored, which made McGonagall gasp. Before she could praise him, the carousel began rotating, the horses moving up and down as they circled. It even played a merry tune. Everyone in the class was now looking at him. Harry flicked his wand again, and the horses broke free of the carousel. They lined up, and soon after, a chariot race was happening along the edge of his desk. The little wooden man even grabbed Hermione's matchstick as it passed. Her matchstick turned into a whip, which he used to snap at the horses to make them go faster. Hermione turned and glared at him. Harry turned and smirked at her.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter! Simply brilliant! Twenty points to Gryffindor," she said. "Continue practicing while I help the rest of the class," she said, walking off. "Oh … and please give Ms. Granger back her matchstick."

As the chariot passed by Hermione, the little wooden chariot driver threw the whip at her. It changed back into a matchstick and hit her in the forehead. She yelped and flinched. Harry snorted in amusement.

"Harry …" she said threateningly.

"Relax, Hermione. I'm just having a bit of fun with you," he confessed. "I was thinking … Maybe you'd like some private study lessons with me. There are quite a few things that I could teach you about Transfiguration."

Hermione froze. This was what she had been waiting for. This was the perfect opportunity to start working her magic to get him to teach her how to remove the Trace before summer break. Hermione put a cute, little smile on her face. "I'd love to, Harry," she told him kindly.

Unknown Prophecy

Harry sat down during lunch. His stomach was growling, and he was very hungry. All of the rituals and modifications to his body really burned up the calories. As such, he needed to eat plenty at every meal. As soon as he sat down, Hermione filled the spot on his right. No sooner than she did, Harry heard something on his left.

"Out of the way! Move it!" he heard Ron's familiar voice. He looked to the side just as the young redhead plonked down on the seat next to him. "How's it going, mate?" Ron asked delightedly.

For the last couple of days, he had taken to eating his meals with Harry instead of with his fellow Hufflepuffs. Harry took a wild guess that the other Hufflepuffs didn't mind in the least. Harry didn't really mind either. He wanted to keep his enemies close, and the Weasley family was definitely his enemy. Having Ron as his semi-friend would keep the invitations to the Burrow coming. Harry didn't plan on spending a lot of time at the old house, but having access to it could come in handy down the road. There was also the fact that Harry didn't want to rock the boat too much, or Dumbledore might get suspicious of his behavior. As much as Harry didn't want to admit it, Dumbledore was a fearsome foe. His best chance to end the old man was to strike fast, hard, and in complete surprise … just as they had done to him. Just thinking about it made Harry's blood boil, and he fought the urge to stab Ron's hand which was reaching for a chicken leg with his fork. Harry let go of his fork which clattered to the table. He took a deep breath to calm himself. Ignoring the disgusting display of Ron chowing down on his chicken, Harry turned to the Staff Table.

Snape was sitting there eating his corn on the cob vertically instead of horizontally. Harry shook his head. He might have felt bad if it had happened to anyone other than Snape. Harry actually felt quite lucky that the greasy bastard was seemingly off of his back this time around. For some strange reason, Snape actually thought that the blonde ferret was Harry Potter. He found the whole ordeal very funny. Malfoy had been complaining to anyone that would listen about the unfairness of it all. Harry hadn't thought about it very much, but now that he had, he realized that the Slytherins were much more subdued than they were the first time. It wasn't shocking since they no longer had Snape to constantly cover up their deplorable behavior. Unfortunately for them, Snape was in his own world. Harry shook his head again when he saw the hook-nosed bastard pouring brown gravy over his treacle tart. 'He should be horsewhipped for that alone,' Harry thought as he piled his plate with loads of delicious food.

As he did, he glanced at the Slytherin table. Flynt was sitting there looking like a troll. Malfoy was puffing his chest up while talking to Pansy Parkinson. Harry didn't know it, but he was telling the girl tales of his own adventures before coming to school. Parkinson was dumb enough to believe him. Daphne, on the other hand, wasn't so stupid.

Harry spotted the beautiful, dark-haired girl. He saw Daphne look at him and then blush deeply before looking away. He made a mental note of that. He wouldn't begrudge himself another faithful follower if he could somehow manage it. He turned back to his plate and began eating.

Unknown Prophecy

Hermione was actually excited when Harry led her to a mostly-empty classroom. There was a teacher's desk at the front and a few scattered chairs that were covered in dust. As Hermione entered, she wrinkled her nose cutely and fought off a sneeze. The entire classroom was dusty and smelled quite stale if she was being honest. Harry walked in and waved his wand. Every fleck of dust suddenly vanished. He waved his wand again, and the room suddenly lightly smelled of lavender. Hermione turned to him.

"How did you do that?" she asked, desperately wanting to know.

"The same way I do most of my magic. I clearly picture what I want in my mind, then use my willpower to make it happen," he told her. "It sounds easier than it actually is, but that's the jist of it."

Hermione frowned. "That's lame," she said. "There has to be more to it than that."

Harry shrugged. "That's how it is once you have enough experience. Normal first-years have no hope of doing it like that. You'll have to use incantations first, then learn how to cast silently. Once you have that down, then you can try the way I do it."

"How did you learn how to do it like that?" she asked him as her eyes narrowed. "You're a first-year after all." Hermione saw him smile cheekily at her.

"I knew you'd ask that," he said. "Unfortunately, I can't tell you unless you sign a magical contract that states that you won't tell anyone else."

Hermione flinched. Did he somehow already know that she was in cahoots with Dumbledore?

"It's not that I don't trust you," she heard him say which calmed her down. "But the information is just that important to keep safe."

Hermione didn't give two shits about Dumbledore. She would happily keep the information from the old bastard if it meant that she gained power. "What kind of contract?" Hermione asked him, having never heard of a magical contract before.

"I brought one just in case," Harry said, pulling one out of his bag. He set it on the desk. Hermione read it over, and suddenly her eyes widened. Her head jerked his way.

"Indentured servitude for life!" she cried out in shock. Harry nodded.

"Magical contracts can often be severe. If you break a magically binding contract, your magic will act against you and force you to comply with the letter of the contract."

"... but for life …" she said, still clearly in shock. Harry nodded.

"You can't tell anyone about the contract either. I also wouldn't recommend trying to give someone hints so that they can figure it out on their own. That will also break the contract. You must be sure before you sign," Harry told her seriously.

Hermione thought about it for a moment. The contract was severe, to say the least. That being said, she could keep a secret. She had many terrible secrets about herself that would ruin her life if they ever came to light.

"Is the secret that you're keeping something that can be replicated?" she asked him. Harry smiled knowingly and nodded. "And you will help me accomplish it myself?" she asked again. Again, Harry nodded.

"We might have to wait until Christmas break though," he warned. "It's not something that can be done overnight."

Hermione walked over to a chair and sat down. She thought about it for a minute or so. Tapping her chin while thinking, she stood up and came to a decision. "I'll sign."

She saw Harry pull out a red quill as she walked up. "This is a Blood Quill. Whatever you write will be carved into the back of your hand, and your blood will be used as ink. The wound will heal itself almost instantly. It's disturbing but necessary," he assured her.

Harry thought that she might raise a fuss about the quill. Of course, he forgot that his precious, little Hermione Granger was a budding serial killer. The look on her face was one of intrigue. She took the quill from him and rolled it between her fingers. She brushed the feathery part across her palm, savoring the tickling sensation. Hermione didn't want to say anything about her curiosity concerning the quill, but she made a mental note to buy one if possible. She was already imagining the fun that she could have with that evil, little device. "I understand," she said, pretending to be meek and nervous. In truth, she was curious to try it on herself.

Harry took the quill back and scribbled his own name on the contract. Hermione watched in fascination as his name was written in blood and carved into the back of his hand. Just as he said, the wound disappeared right before her eyes. Hermione quivered in excitement as she was handed the quill. Placing the tip on the parchment, she wrote out her name, Hermione Jean Granger, and winced as it was sliced into the back of her hand. Almost instantly, the name disappeared leaving a stretch of pink, blotchy skin. She rubbed the back of her hand, trying to ease the stinging sensation that was still present. "That's fascinating," she said with wide eyes, staring down at her name.

"Indeed it is," Harry teased, ticking her neck with the feather. Hermione gasped and shuddered slightly.

"Okay, I signed. Now, spill," she ordered.

"While I know a lot of spells and such, I'm able to use those spells so well because I widened my magical pathways through a ritual that I perfected," he confessed. Hermione looked confused.

"Magical pathways?" she asked. "I've never heard of that."

"Our magic travels through our bodies like water through a country. Right now, your pathways are like small creeks and streams. Widening them will be like turning them into raging rivers, allowing more magic to move throughout your body. All of the most powerful magic users have always had the largest pathways. Since I widened mine while I'm young, my growth potential is off the charts."

Harry immediately saw the look of pure greed spread across Hermione's face. It was obvious that she wanted to perform this ritual as well.

"The benefits go beyond just your magic potential. I'll be taller, stronger, smarter, and better looking than my peers," Harry explained. "Can't you already tell?" he asked her. Hermione's face began to heat up, and she nodded.

"It would be the same for you," he told her.

Hermione's heart was hammering in her chest as Harry walked behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He leaned in and spoke softly. His warm breath tickled her inner ear. "Just imagine yourself in a few years … Slim waist and wide hips," he said, his hands moving down her sides until he was gripping her waist. "Big, perky breasts," he continued. "You could be the hottest girl in school."

She wanted that. She wanted it badly. For years she had been made fun of because of her bushy hair and buck teeth. It was time for that to end.

"And with power to boot, you could be unstoppable," he whispered into her ear. Hermione couldn't help herself. She squeaked softly and closed her legs as she came. Her body squirmed as Harry whispered such seductive things in her ear. She could feel the crotch of her panties sticking to her damp skin. Hermione had to sit down. Her legs were like jelly. Her chest was rising and falling as she sucked in deep breaths of air. As she breathed in, she could smell her own arousal which was thick in the air. The entire room was likely filled with the scent. She knew that Harry could smell it as well, and from the fact that she knew that he had experience with girls, she also suspected that he knew what it was that he was smelling. Hermione found that she didn't mind. She had used her cuteness to get her way with adults many times. She wasn't above using her sexuality now to get Harry to do what she wanted.

"But like I said, that's for another time," Harry told her. "Right now I'll teach you a few useful spells."

Hermione sat there listening to him while her nether region felt inflamed. She didn't know what was going on with her. Her body had never reacted that way. She decided that she would look into it later. At the moment, Harry was teaching her a few useful tricks that she could use during Transfiguration class.

Chapter 19

Harry watched the owls flutter into the Great Hall one early Saturday morning. Sadly, Hedwig wasn't with them. He had decided early on to not buy the beautiful snowy owl. She was very recognizable and would likely end up a target by Dumbledore, the Ministry, the Death Eaters, or any number of people hoping to find out where he was staying. Wherever she was, he hoped that she was happy and healthy. That morning, about a dozen owls flew in and lined up around him. All of them hooted and held their legs out. Harry began removing the letters attached and asked Hermione to help him to make things go faster. Once done, he offered them each a slice of hot, crispy bacon, which all of them were eager to accept. Harry flipped through the stack of letters and smiled. It was more fan mail.

Recently, he had removed the restrictions against him receiving mail. He would turn it on and off whenever it was needed. Beside him, Hermione sniffed. "Perfume," she noted. "I really hope that another harlot hasn't sent you her knickers."

"That last pair could've been used for a parachute," Harry shook his head. The woman who had sent them was a bit hefty, to say the least. She was also fifty-nine years old … and married … with grandchildren that were attending Durmstrang.

"You think some girls will send any more sexy photos?" Ron asked eagerly from his other side. Harry shrugged. He knew that Ron was incredibly jealous of the constant flow of fan mail. Harry was surprised that he had been able to keep his mouth shut about it. He had made the mistake of opening a few letters in front of Ron. When the young, horny redhead saw the moving picture of one of Zacharias Smith's nineteen-year-old cousins, his eyes nearly bugged out. Harry had to admit, the busty blonde was quite sexy. She was wearing a very, very short dress with a plunging neckline. She sensually danced around and wiggled her body. With every movement, her body was threatening to burst out of her tight dress. He already had that picture framed and placed on his bedside table. That wasn't the only picture that he had received. He had received some that were far more scandalous, though he kept those in a private picture album secured away in his magical trunk. He even received one dick pic. Harry chuckled and sent it to Malfoy anonymously.

Harry didn't like the way Dumbledore eyed him whenever he received a pile of mail. There was no doubt in his mind that he would receive a visit from the old man sooner rather than later. He'd just have to wait.

Unknown Prophecy

"Dobby?" Harry called out. Only a second later, a pop echoed throughout the empty corridor. Dobby's eyes were wide and filled with wonder.

"The great Harry Potter knows Dobby?" the little elf asked in excitement.

"Of course, I do," Harry smiled. "Are you working here at Hogwarts?"

Dobby nodded his head so fast that his long ears flopped around. "Yes, Mister Harry Potter sir! Though Dobby is still a free elf! Dobby is getting paid for his work here," he said proudly.

"That's wonderful, Dobby," Harry said. "I was hoping that you could do me a favor."

"Anything for the great and powerful Harry Potter!" Dobby squeaked in excitement. Dobby had heard all about the stories of Harry's greatness.

"This room right here," Harry said, pointing to the door. "I was hoping that you could clean it out and turn it into a proper bedroom for me."

Harry chose this room specifically. It was far enough away from the parts of the castle that were regularly used that there was very little chance of him being discovered. He already planned on adding more than a few privacy features to make sure he wasn't disturbed. The real reason why he chose this room was because it actually used to be a living quarters before being converted into a classroom. It was against the outer wall so it had a large window overlooking the lake, and it had a large fireplace that didn't look as if it had been used in decades. The room was everything that he could want in a private getaway.

"Harry Potter doesn't yet have a bedroom?" Dobby asked in confusion.

"I do, but I have to share it with other boys. I need a second bedroom for the times that I want privacy," Harry told him truthfully. Dobby nodded his head in understanding. The little elf stood up straight.

"Dobby will get to work right away!" he exclaimed. "Dobby will tell Harry Potter when he's finished." With that, Dobby popped away.

Harry was glad that Dobby was doing okay. He was sure that his friendship with Dobby would continue to pay dividends in the future.

Unknown Prophecy

Angelina gasped as Harry quickly tugged on her arm and pulled her into an empty classroom. Her heart was beating fast, and her breath was quickening. While there were still a few hours until curfew, the corridors were already dark and foreboding-looking. "Harry … Why did you …?" she began to ask, but Harry shushed her. A couple of seconds later, she heard Peeves singing a song while floating down the corridor that they had just been in. Not long after, the annoying poltergeist's voice trailed off into the distance. Harry opened the door and grabbed her hand.

"It's better if Peeves doesn't know where we're going," Harry smiled at her. Angelina giggled in a slightly frantic tone. Just being with Harry already seemed like some type of small adventure. It was amazing that practically his entire short life had been like this, only much more grandiose. As for what he said, Angelina couldn't agree more. Last year, Peeves dropped a giant glob of peanut butter in her hair and happily wailed for Filch when she was spotted out after curfew one night. She had received detention for the entire weekend. She promised that she would get even with that bastard someday if it was the last thing she would do. In the meantime, she agreed with Harry. It was smarter if they avoided him for now.

Angelina felt her cheeks heat up as Harry didn't release her hand. In fact, he tightened his grip in a way that she found possessive … as though, for tonight, she belonged to him. Angelina didn't mind at all. In fact, she couldn't wait to brag to her friends about it. Down the dark and chilly corridor, she was led. She had a general idea of where they were in the castle, but she had never been so far off the beaten path. Harry then tugged on her arm and directed her left down another corridor. At the end of this corridor was a dead end with a door on the right. Harry had held Angelina's hand so that her brain wouldn't suddenly become fuzzy due to the Aversion Wards. He planned on changing the wards to be more subtle, but this was the best he could do in such a short amount of time. They would work well for tonight though. He opened the door and pulled her in.

Her eyes went wide when she was pulled into the warm room. The room was dark with only the large, crackling fire producing any light. Still, the fire was large and produced enough light that Angelina could see everything that the room had to offer. There was a desk off to the side that appeared to be unused. There was a loveseat situated close to the fire that Angelina would love to sit in and relax on those cold winter nights at Hogwarts. In the far corner, there was a large, comfortable-looking bed. As soon as she entered the room, she found a door to the right. "What's in here?" she asked him.

"A private bathroom and shower," he told her. Dobby had found that the bathroom had been hidden with magic.

"This room is brilliant, Harry!" Angelina said joyously. She walked over to the bed and jumped onto it. She rested on her knees and bounced a few times, testing the comfort level. "How did you find it?" she wondered. She knew that the castle hid many secrets. The Weasley twins had found some strange shortcuts after all.

"I had a friend help me," Harry smirked to himself as he walked over to a cabinet and opened it up. Harry pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey and carried it over to the bed. "Anyway … The room's mine now. Consider it my own personal clubhouse," he told her. Angelina eyed the bottle in his hand. She gasped and took it from him, reading the label closer.

"How did you get this?!" she asked, looking up at him. Again, Harry smirked.

"There are very few things that I can't get my hands on," he said, taking the bottle and pulling the cork. Harry tilted the bottle back and drank from it deeply. He smacked his lips as he held the bottle out for her. "Smooth," he hissed out a puff of smoke. Angelina copied him by drinking deeply from it. However, she couldn't hold back the cough, and a brilliant burst of fire erupted from her mouth. She shook her head and yelped.

"That's way stronger than the stuff the other kids sneak into the school," she admitted, handing him the bottle back. Harry drank from it and handed it back.

"They usually water it down so that it'll last longer," Harry explained. "Besides, it doesn't take much to get a student drunk." As if proving his point, Angelina already seemed buzzed after taking a few drinks from it. Harry chuckled and put the cork back in. He didn't want her drunk after all. He only wanted her to have a good time tonight. As he set the bottle on the side table, he heard her giggle.

"You said you can get your hands on anything right? Well, you haven't gotten your hands on me," she teased. Harry turned and looked at her. She was lying on the bed with her dark hair fanned out. Harry's eyes traveled over her lovely form. Her knees were up, and her heels were touching the backs of her thighs. Her plaid skirt was bunched up, showing him the majority of her smooth thighs. Covering her calves were black knee-socks, and on her feet were the typical Mary Janes that the female population wore. Her chest was covered by a white blouse that wasn't buttoned up all of the way. Harry kicked off his shoes and joined her.

"Is that right?" he asked, smiling at her. His green eyes were sparkling with the dull light of the fire. "That seems to be a mistake on my part," he told her, grabbing her ankle and pulling her shoe off. He tossed it away. "A mistake I intend to immediately correct," he added as he tossed her other shoe away.

Angelina's head was swimming. After a few drinks of whiskey, she found herself feeling very relaxed and confident. Normally, she would be a nervous wreck if a boy was fiddling with the lower half of her body. At the moment, however, she was quite eager for things to progress. She couldn't stop herself from squirming as Harry lifted her leg and slowly removed her knee-sock. Once he pulled it from her bare foot, he let his fingers glide up and down her leg. His hands caressed her calf before moving down and tickling her ankle. Angelina bit her lower lip and shuddered. Her arousal mixed with the effects of the strong alcohol had her feeling incredible. When his fingers began gently playing with the skin on the back of her knee, Angelina had her first mini orgasm of the night. Crying out softly, she accidentally pulled her foot from his grasp. Her hips bucked slightly as she felt the crotch of her panties dampen. By then, Harry was peeling off her other sock. This time he let his lips do the exploring. "Please … Harry …" she choked out a desperate whisper as he peppered her inner thigh with kisses. She knew that he could smell her wet pussy, but she didn't care. She was deep in her own sexual daze.

She let out a loud moan when his tongue tickled the skin just below the leg hole of her panties. Her fingers threaded through his messy black hair as his lips found her panty-covered clit. Feeling the front of her panties being pulled down slightly, she looked down and saw him examining her bald mound. He looked up at her and smiled. "No hair?" he teased. Angelina blushed and shook her head. She normally didn't go through the trouble, but since Harry began showing an interest in her, she made sure to keep her body fresh and smooth at all times. He softly kissed her mound which made Angelina's eyes flutter. His lips then began traveling up her lower belly until his tongue dipped into her belly button. The sensation was wonderful, she thought as his hands joined in and gently caressed her sides. Sadly, he removed his lips not long after and sat up, still positioned between her parted legs.

Angelina was laying there breathing heavily. Her eyes were wide as she waited for the next part of his exploration. She saw him focus for a second, and suddenly, her blouse ripped right open. Buttons flew off in every direction as her bra and bare belly were suddenly exposed. Angelina squeaked as she was startled by the action. "H-Harry? How did you …?"

Her words were cut off by her bra ripping between the two cups. The cups snapped open, flying in opposite directions, and her beautiful breasts spilled out. Harry's eyes were on them before they stopped jiggling around. They were a little more than a handful and were quite perky. They were the same light brown color as the rest of her lovely skin. Her nipples were about the size of a silver Sickle, and they were capped by hard, crinkled tips that Harry couldn't wait to suck on. Angelina was still in shock even as Harry's hands began groping and fondling her bare tits.

"How did you do that?" she shuttered and trembled as he rolled her hard nipples between his fingers. Her back was already arching in pleasure, and Harry noticed that her womanly scent was getting stronger. The smell of her wet pussy had his cock straining in his trousers.

"I've been practicing my magic," Harry smiled as he gave her hard nipples a tug. "How well do you think I'm doing?" Harry teased her. Angelina was about to answer when she felt something wiggling around in her panties, though Harry's hands were still playing with her tits. She was momentarily startled before feeling as though his pure magic was gently stroking her wet slit. Her legs suddenly opened wide without any input from her hazy brain. She felt his magic spread until her puckered hole was being massaged. "I can't …" she cried out when suddenly, she felt her clit vibrating. Angelina let out a high-pitched squeal as she violently came. The crotch of her panties became soaked in her juices. While she bucked and thrashed around, she didn't notice that Harry was removing his clothes. It wasn't until he stood up wearing only his boxers that Angelina noticed him. She watched attentively as he pulled them down. His long, perfect cock sprang up, hard and ready for fun. Without any hesitation, Angelina rolled over until she was on her hands and knees. She crawled over to him and took his cock into her mouth.

Harry immediately felt her moaning around his cock as his magic continued to simultaneously play with her clit, slit, and asshole. The longer he went, the better he was becoming with his wandless magic. By that point, it seemed more like telekinesis than actual magic. Sometimes all he had to do was think about doing something and his magic just made it happen. It was incredible, Harry thought, and he couldn't wait to get even stronger. In the meantime, he would practice at every opportunity that he got. Angelina sure seemed to enjoy his practice session. She tried her best to suck him off, but her skill level and experience didn't match up with her desires. 'Still … Getting a bad blowjob is better than not getting one at all,' Harry thought as her head only slightly bobbed. She was only taking him a couple of inches into her mouth. Harry reached down and lightly tickled her scalp with his fingernails, making the girl shudder. Her knees were wide apart, and her little, pink panties were bunched up and riding into her butt crack. He could see the shape of her plump pussy lips as her drenched panties clung to her form. Her ass was shaking back and forth, and her hands clawed at the bedsheets as she tried to fight off another rapidly approaching orgasm. "Press your tongue against the bottom of my cock, and when only the head is in, wiggle your tongue against the tip," Harry told her. Angelina immediately added his suggestions into her cocksucking repertoire. Harry moaned as she started getting better.

"When taking me back in, hold the flat of your tongue against the bottom. Always using your tongue makes it so much better," Harry explained. Slowly, Harry started moving his hips. He kept his thrusts shallow since the girl was still a rookie. As nice as it was to be her sexual guinea pig, Harry was eager for more. When he pulled his cock from her lips, Angie groaned and latched onto his dangling sack. Harry stroked his cock while looking down at her. The girl was licking and slurping on his balls while her ass was beginning to twerk.

"You feeling good, Angie?" Harry bantered while she took his directions to heart. He felt her warm, wet tongue lapping at his cum-filled sack.

"It f-feels too good, Harry!" Angelina cried out as she let go of his balls. Her ass was trembling so much that Harry could see the meaty flesh of her wide hips jiggling.

"Turn around and let me see," Harry ordered. Angelina spun around and presented her panty-clad ass to him. The crotch of her panties was completely soaked. They were molded to the shape of her taut pussy. Harry could even see through the soaked material and gaze at her tight slit. Angelina squealed and arched her back, sticking her ass up in the air. A fat drop of arousal dripped down the inside of her thigh and rolled down until finally dripping onto the bed. Harry grabbed the waistband and slowly peeled them down her thighs. He was fascinated by the way the wet material practically stuck to the skin of her pussy. As he was lowering them, she was forced to roll over onto her side so that he could slip them off of her feet.

Angelina was practically out of her mind with pleasure. The vibrations against her swollen and throbbing clit felt better than any toy that she had ever used. As she lay on her side trembling, she heard Harry say, "You have such a sexy, little body."

She was very pleased that he liked the way she looked. She was about to roll over onto her back and spread her legs for him when she suddenly felt his long, fat cock slide between the arches of her small feet. Before she could comprehend the situation, she also felt his magic penetrate her asshole. Her eyes flew open and bugged out. "HARRY!" she squealed as sudden and intense pleasure washed over her body. Goosebumps erupted all over her soft and smooth skin. She choked out a moan as Harry fucked her feet with his cock and fucked her virgin ass with his magic. Angie wasn't going to lie, the magic in her ass felt fantastic. It felt as though she was being fucked without the pain of being stretched. Her back was arching fiercely, and her hands came up and slid over her perky tits. She was a bit embarrassed by the strange noises escaping her mouth as her body was treated as a plaything. Crying out as another big orgasm hit her, she started kneading her breasts and rubbing her aching nipples. Angelina loved it all. She loved being used by Harry as though she was his whore. She loved the way his magic felt against her clit and ass. She loved the sensation of his thick cock against the incredibly soft soles of her feet, and she especially loved when he rolled her onto her back and deeply penetrated her pussy.

The wet squelch of being penetrated for the first time by him was incredibly embarrassing for her. When he pulled back, she saw that his entire cock was dripping with her juices. Harry pressed the fat head against her engorged clit and wiggled his cock back and forth. The pleasure made her cry out as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. His cock slipped back between her wet folds, and she felt him stretching her insides the deeper he went. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she trembled and spasmed while being double penetrated by him. Suddenly, his lips touched hers, and Angie happily kissed him back. She was more than happy to let him explore her mouth with his tongue while one of his hands fondled her soft tit. His fingertips were softly playing with her nipple, sending spikes of pleasure straight into her pussy. His hips were practically a blur as he furiously fucked her. Her body was being slammed so hard that she was forced to unwrap her legs from his waist. Holding them wide open for him, she screamed and squealed as every pleasurable spot imaginable was repeatedly battered by the thick head of his perfect cock. The walls of her pussy were as tight as humanly possible as she clutched the shaft of his cock.

When his cock touched her G-spot, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Angelina broke the kiss and screamed so loud that it hurt Harry's ears. He was suddenly thankful that he placed a very strong silencing matrix across the doors and walls. Her bottom half was bucking wildly as if she were trying to toss him off. He lashed out with his magic and pinned her to the bed. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth hung open as Harry jackhammered into her squirting pussy. He suddenly felt his balls churn and released her from his magical grip. Rolling them over, she was now on top of him while Harry hugged her slim waist tightly. Angelina chittered and mewled sexily as Harry continued to thrust into her, pumping her full of his seed.

At some point, Angelina lost consciousness. The pleasure was simply overwhelming. She wasn't sure how long it had been, but at some point, she woke up with her body feeling very sensitive. Harry was behind her, spooning her young, soft body. Looking down, she saw his erection sticking out from between her closed thighs. Her little pussy lips were spread apart to make room for the thick beast that hung between Harry's legs. Finding it funny because it appeared that she had a thick cock of her own, she began to giggle uncontrollably. Unbeknownst to her, her magic was highly stimulated because of the great sex that had just occurred. She didn't care about the reasons though, she only cared that she felt incredible. However, she was very sleepy and worn out. Harry's hand was tickling her belly before sliding up and resting on her breast. Angie moaned and wiggled around to get more comfortable. Harry groaned and thrust his hips. Angelina felt his cock slide across the length of her sensitive slit before hitting her clit. She cried out and smacked his hip. "I'm too sensitive!" she gasped. Harry chuckled and pulled a blanket over them. Angelina closed her eyes and smiled as Harry continued to caress her lovely body while she drifted off to sleep.

Unknown Prophecy

Angelina woke up with a yawn. She suddenly felt a warm pair of lips kissing the side of her neck. She stretched and mewled cutely. As she arched her back, Harry slid his hand over her breasts, feeling her nipples grow hard. Angie moaned and rubbed her shapely bottom against the hard cock that was pressed against it.

She realized that she felt amazing. Her body was buzzing with energy, and she swore that she could feel a maelstrom of magic swirling inside of her, waiting to get out. She couldn't wait to start the day! But first …

"Harry?" she said cutely, looking over her shoulder while biting her lower lip. She was rubbing her ass against him even harder now. It was clear what she wanted. When his cock spread her lips apart and entered her, Angelina moaned while experiencing morning sex for the first time in her life.

Chapter 20

Hermione flicked her wand and watched as the matchstick jumped slightly but didn't change. Her eyes narrowed in anger. "I told you it wasn't easy," she heard Harry's voice call out from across the room. She turned her head and shot him an equally angry look. Harry was laying on his bed going through some more fan mail. He finished reading a letter before balling it up and tossing it in the waste bin.

"Don't give me that look," he warned, standing up and walking over to her. "I told you that silent casting was hard for a seventh year, but you just had to …"

"Alright! Enough about what I said … just help me!" she whined.

"Picturing the magic in your head is only a small part of silent casting," Harry told her. Hermione was sitting in the chair with Harry towering over her from behind. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Once you have enough experience casting magic with a wand, picturing it can usually be enough. However, it isn't enough for those with greater ambition," Harry told her.

This caught Hermione's attention instantly. Her ambition was sky high since scouring the library for books about history's greatest dark witches. There weren't many that could be called elite. Hermione was already dreaming about rising up the ranks of the Ministry using dubious means. Would it be possible for her to take over the country in such a way? She definitely wouldn't at her current skill level. She needed to be stronger … WAY stronger. Hermione looked around the room that Harry had somehow procured. It was big, comfortable, and had everything needed to keep him from having to live in those dorms with the incompetent children always making noise. Harry was crafty. He somehow was always able to get what he wanted, and Hermione desperately wanted to know how he was doing it.

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked as Harry began massaging her shoulders. A soft gasp left her pink lips as he kneaded her sore muscles. Lugging that heavy, book-laden bag around all day was torture for her shoulders and back. Hermione's lips quivered as his fingertips gently brushed against the bare skin unhidden by her open, white blouse. She had been making sure to keep the top four buttons of her shirt undone any time they were alone. Noticing the uptick in sluts that were trying to steal his attention, Hermione needed to keep him near. How else would she learn to do incredible feats of magic without having to spend decades practicing? Showing off a little skin was a good way to keep his eyes on her, she thought as she squirmed and hiked up her skirt a bit.

His fingers tickled the upper part of her chest, and her skin broke into goosebumps. Hermione shuddered slightly, actually enjoying his touch. His skin was warm, which felt good in his chilly room.

"Those of us who are skilled in sensing and feeling magic find it easy to cast without speaking. I can feel my magic flowing throughout my entire body, Hermione. Why should I find it difficult to perform such trivial feats?" he asked her.

"Remember that my pathways have been expanded significantly, and they'll only grow as I get older and more experienced," he told her. Hermione's eyes widened, and she licked her suddenly dry lips.

"You mean it will get easier once I go through the ritual?" she asked him. Harry nodded.

"Once you get yours expanded, silent casting will be child's play. With enough practice, you may even someday be as skilled as I am now," Harry needled her with a smirk. Harry immediately knew that he had pissed her off.

Hermione's hackles raised, and she puffed up with indignation. "What do you mean someday?" she hissed, her eyes glowing with rage. This was the first time Harry had seen the true Hermione come out since arriving at school.

Hermione's mind was running a thousand miles a minute. 'That little shit has the nerve to think that I won't be able to catch up with him?' she thought to herself, her hand itching to swing her wand and curse him. She had already learned a few good ones after all.

"I mean that by the time you graduate, maybe you'll be as skilled as I am now. Of course, by then I'll be on a level never before seen in …"

"Ocula Minuo!" Hermione shouted without thinking. The acid-green curse erupted from her vinewood wand and flew at him faster than a blink of an eye. Her moment of euphoria was short-lived, however. Instead of grabbing his bleeding eyes and falling to the ground while writhing in pain, a Gryffindor-colored, metal shield appeared on his arm and intercepted the speeding curse. The green curse slammed into the shield, creating a deep gong-like sound as the spell exploded into a burst of sparks. Before she could even think about the repercussions of her momentary insanity, an invisible force wrenched her from her seat. She floated in the air, hovering above Harry's eyeline. She opened her mouth to speak but was suddenly cut short. Something was cutting off her oxygen supply. She looked at him, and her eyes widened. She saw something within him … something frightening.

Instead of easing up, the pressure increased. Hermione tried to thrash around as her neck was being crushed, but his magic was too strong. It was so bad that she actually heard the bones in her neck pop as though she were visiting the chiropractor. At this point, she was beginning to panic. Her vision was getting cloudy, and her body reacted as though she were drowning.

"You see, Hermione … every day I practice, even while I sit there listening to our teachers blather about things that I already know. Unbeknownst to everyone else, I continuously mold my magic into something more … something powerful. Right now, my magic could easily take your life," he told her. Saliva dripped from her open mouth as she silently begged him to stop.

"But it could also bring you to new heights of pleasure that you've never before experienced," she heard him say.

Hermione was suddenly flung across the room where she landed hard on his bed. Her body bounced high into the air as she loudly sucked in a desperately needed breath of air. Out of nowhere, she felt as though a hand was shoved down the front of her panties. She tried to squeal in shock, but she was still panting from a lack of oxygen. Harry's magic began flicking her clit, making it harder than it had ever been before. Her back arched violently when it felt as though his magic was sucking on her clit. She could feel his magic everywhere. She could feel it gently caressing the length of her damp slit. She could feel it rimming her asshole while tweaking her nipples. It felt as though a hundred hands were touching every pleasurable spot that her body possessed. Then, suddenly, it stopped, and she was magically pulled from the bed. Hovering in front of him, Harry continued talking while Hermione breathed in and out wildly. Arousal was dripping down her legs, making his room smell of her pussy.

"My magic reacts to my will. All it takes is a mere thought. Do you honestly think that you will ever be as powerful as I am?" he asked her. Hermione was trembling as she rapidly shook her head. Hermione cried out as the magic cut off, and she was dumped onto the floor at his feet.

"Then perhaps it's not the best idea to try and curse me," Harry said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. Hermione knew that she was nothing in his eyes. Not anything close to a threat. It was humiliating and humbling. But it was also something else. She pathetically crawled to him and looked up.

"P-Please … Forgive me," she begged, tilting her head down in a subservient position. Her body quivered with sexual energy. Hermione had never been so worked up. There had been many times when she tricked older men into doing things that she wanted. She would watch on with a cute smile on her pretty face as they danced and did her bidding like puppets on a string. This always made her tingle between the legs, but nothing had ever made her feel like this. Harry was powerful, and he was violent. She silently wondered why he tried to hide his violent, unrestrained passion. His reasons weren't important at the moment, however. She looked up and met his eyes. Her own were filled with obedience. Her shaky hands lifted, and she undid the buckle on his trousers. Strange thoughts filled her head as her fingers fumbled with the belt. All she could think about was the burning desire to be owned by him.

Harry watched as Hermione lowered his trousers. His soft cock flopped out, and he could feel her warm breath washing over him. While he enjoyed pushing her buttons, he didn't actually think that she would attack him. 'She must be more unhinged than I realized,' Harry thought. 'Her savage disposition must be buried just below the surface of her smooth, unmarked skin.'

When she attacked him, his own vicious personality burst free, and he showed her that he was not one to be fucked with. Had he not been so mature, he would have likely killed the girl and been done with it. While having her as his psychotic guard dog would be nice, she wasn't integral to his plans. Thankfully, his mind was much clearer than Hermione's, and he refrained from doing anything so drastic. Still, she would learn her place. As her shaky hand lifted his soft cock to her lips, Harry stood there, allowing her to apologize to him properly. Her little, pink tongue slipped past her lips and touched the head. She began swirling it around, and while it did feel good, he could tell that she had no experience with giving a blowjob.

Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest as she lavished his cock with attention. She couldn't really understand why she was reacting in such a way. Logically speaking, she knew that her personality was far from normal, and she knew that it may one day get her into serious trouble. That was why she adopted the shy, naive persona that the world saw, but deep down, she was still the vicious girl that kicked a young boy into a pond and happily watched him struggle to stay afloat before his panicked parents came to lend a hand. From her past experiences, someone saying such insulting things to her should have repulsed and infuriated her. Then she realized, it wasn't his words that were making her pussy wet. It was his actions … his power. The raw power displayed against her was incredible to witness. As she swirled her tongue all over his floppy cock, her neck and throat still ached from almost being crushed. Instead of being horrified and traumatized by his violence toward her, she was actually quivering with excitement and need. Images flashed through her mind of Harry pinning her down and choking her while he brutally pounded her … Hermione shook her head. This wasn't the time for fantasizing.

She thought back to the times when her parents would leave her alone in the house for a few hours, and she would sneak into her parents' room and watch her father's dirty movies. She remembered being transfixed by the sight of a naked woman bobbing her head on a hard penis. At the time, Hermione wondered why the woman would do that. She, of course, already knew about sex, but that act was beyond anything that she had learned about. She watched as the woman took him in her mouth and down her throat. She heard the man moan deeply as she pleased him. Now, Hermione understood why. She wanted to please Harry. She wanted to please him even more than that whore in the porno pleased her partner. Now all she had to do was think about what she had watched and copy that.

Placing her lips around the head, she slowly started bobbing back and forth. She couldn't keep her tongue out of the way, so she rested it against the bottom of his cock. Harry didn't seem to mind, she thought as his cock rapidly inflated in her mouth. Within seconds, he was rock hard, and Hermione was choking on it. Harry's hand found the back of her head, and Harry slowly began thrusting. Hermione squealed when the head of his cock went down her throat for the first time. She couldn't help but gag when he pulled back and thrust forward again, hitting the back of her throat. Hermione couldn't breathe, and her constant gagging was making her eyes water. When he suddenly pulled out, she gasped for air. Being so close to him, she could see his cock dripping with her saliva. His hand found her hair, and he bunched it up into a ponytail. His cock came forward again, and she dutifully opened her mouth, letting him back into her throat. Hermione wasn't sure how long he had been fucking her mouth, but at some point, she stopped gagging and found it much easier to take him deep down her throat. It was then that she actually started to enjoy the act of pleasing him with her mouth. Her head even started moving back and forth, timed perfectly with the thrusting of his hips.

Harry noticed that she was keeping her hands together behind her back in a clear and obvious subservient position. He also noticed the sudden change in her personality toward him. It had happened faster than flicking a light switch. Her eyes were tilted up as he thrust into her mouth, and she was looking at him with complete and utter devotion. He decided to test the waters even further. Pulling his cock from her mouth, he gently rubbed the tip against her soft lips.

"Are you going to be a good, little girl from now on?" he asked her in a domineering voice. As he did, he rubbed the head of his cock around her mouth and over her chin. Hermione's body was slightly trembling as she sat there on her knees like a sub about to get collared for the first time.

"I will … I promise!" she pleaded as she tried to get his cock back into her mouth without the use of her hands. Harry, meanwhile, began stroking his cock and let his sack dangle in front of her mouth. Hermione's lips immediately latched on, and she practically bathed his balls with her tongue. Her eyes were closed, and she was mewling and moaning while sucking on his sack. He could tell that she was truly enjoying herself. Hermione was actually pressing her face harder against his groin as she happily slurped on him. Harry's body shuddered, and he pulled back on her hair, causing her head to tilt back.

"Don't spit out a single drop," Harry warned and slipped the head past her lips. Harry groaned as he began to empty his balls into her mouth. He could hear her frantically swallowing after every spurt of cum. Once she had swallowed it all, she was looking up at him with adoration.

"Did I do good?" she asked, hoping to earn his praise.

"You did an excellent job," he told her. Hermione flushed red with pride and lovingly placed kisses all over his deflating cock. "Enough of that. Put my cock away and get back to work. I'm going to need you to be magically strong if you wish to remain at my side."

Hermione quickly fixed his trousers and went back to practicing magic. He noticed that she would randomly send looks of longing his way every so often, all of which he ignored.

Unknown Prophecy

"So, Ms. Granger … Do you have anything to report? Has Harry been acting strangely? Who has he been spending his time with?" Dumbledore asked as they met in the middle of the night. The corridor was empty, quiet, and some might say, spooky.

"Harry has been a model student. He rarely spends time with anyone other than me and Ron. I haven't seen him do anything strange," she told him. "Other than being good at magic, Harry seems completely normal," Hermione lied to him. Dumbledore nodded.

Meanwhile, Harry was listening with a satisfied smile on his face.

Unknown Prophecy

Just as he suspected, Harry had been called into the Headmaster's office to meet with the old man. He received the note just after Defense class where he had spent nearly the entire time shooting spitballs at the back of Quirrell's turban. Harry could have sworn that he heard angry grumblings from behind the turban. The thought of Voldemort's ugly face complaining underneath that garlic-infused rag made him smile.

"Acid Pops," Harry stated, and the gargoyle stepped aside. He rode the spiral staircase all the way up until he came to the familiar oak door. He didn't even bother knocking, knowing that Dumbledore already knew that he was there.

"Enter," he heard Dumbledore say from behind the door. The door swung open on its own, revealing the Headmaster's office. It was the same as he remembered. Harry walked in.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, indicating with his hand that he should sit down across from him. Harry sat down. "I've been meaning to invite you to my office so that we could meet. Unfortunately, the schedule of a Headmaster is often overburdened, especially at the beginning of a new year."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Professor. I've heard great things about you," Harry lied easily. He was taking a leaf out of Dumbledore's book. He would act like an ally until the old man least expected it.

"The pleasure's mine," he smiled. "I must admit, you caused a bit of a stir when you disappeared several years ago. If you don't mind me asking, what happened?" he asked as though he actually cared.

"Even as a very small child, I always knew that something was different," Harry said. "I could make strange things happen. As I practiced, I got better at doing it. I had no idea it was magic though. The Dursleys didn't like it, especially Uncle Vernon," Harry shook his head sadly.

"They would yell and threaten me a lot. Sometimes I couldn't control my magic, and I was afraid that Uncle Vernon would make good on his threats. One day, I overheard my Aunt and Uncle talking about my "magic" and how unnatural it was. I took this as a bad sign, so I decided to leave. I ended up in France," Harry lied through his teeth.

"After more practice, I began to get good at feeling the presence of magic. I noticed that some places held a lot of magic, while most didn't. After a few months of searching, I discovered Place Cachee in Paris. It was the greatest day of my life. I stayed in Paris after that, using my magic to sneak into empty homes and shops. I would live there for a short while before moving on to a new place."

"That's quite the harrowing tale, but I'm glad to hear that you came out safe and sound," he said, pretending as though he hadn't been scouring the country looking for him. "And what of Mrs. Delacour? How did you meet her?" he wondered.

Harry shrugged. "I came across her just after her husband had left. We spent a lot of time together. I really wanted to become a French citizen, so she agreed to help me out."

"Yes. I have heard of your citizenship," he said, trying not to sound sour. Harry knew for a fact that Dumbledore had already tried everything legally possible to get his French citizenship overturned. In doing so, he rightly pissed off the French magical government. It seemed that no one else was willing to stick their necks out there for him, so the old man backed down.

"Do you intend to go back during the summer?" Again, Harry shrugged.

"I can travel back and forth easily, so it doesn't really matter where I stay. I'll most likely spend most of my time there unless I have a reason not to," Harry told him. He raised a bushy, white eyebrow.

"A reason not to?" he asked.

"Yeah, you know … like if I were invited somewhere that I really wanted to go. I would still visit Apolline every few days or so, but I would remain here for the most part."

"Ahhh, I see," Dumbledore nodded, rubbing his bearded chin. "Well, Harry, I just wished to welcome you to school. Don't be afraid to call on me if you need anything."

Harry smiled. "I won't, Professor. Thanks for the warm welcome." Dumbledore smiled and nodded. With that, Harry left his office and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower to wait for dinner.

Harry was certain that he would be called upon again. Dumbledore was too nosey for his own good. Harry was also certain that an invitation to the Burrow would find its way to him before the school year ended. Possibly even for Christmas. As much as he detested the idea of spending time with the Weasleys, he had no choice. 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,' he thought to himself. Having access to the Burrow and keeping up appearances was important. He couldn't let anyone onto his plans until it was too late for them to do anything about it. For now, he'd play nice.