Sorcery and Seduction
"Now, class" Umbridge begin, her voice dripping with false sincerity that made his head hurt. "We must remember that we are here to learn, not to play silly games or indulge in foolish fantasies about dangers that do not exist. The Ministry has seen to it that we are perfectly safe. There is nothing to fear, as long as we follow the rules."
She pauses, her eyes lingering on him. "Mr. Potter, is there anything you want to share with the class? Something to do with a certain article that came out this morning?"
She was referring to a nasty Daily Prophet article featured on the front page of the paper that morning, one putting him in the crosshairs. It was nothing new, but even he could admit the paper had taken a new approach to trying to defame him.
It was a classic bait she wanted him to take, one he had fallen for too many times already. She wanted him to respond with some sort of defiant remark, one she could get him in trouble over. But he was done playing her game.
For a moment his eyes glanced across the room, and he briefly lock gazes with Pansy Parkinson. She looked at him worriedly, biting her lip as she waited for his response. Clearly she was worried he would get himself in trouble.
Harry looked up, meeting Umbridge's gaze with a questioning look. He knows what she's trying to do, and he's determined not to give her the satisfaction. "I'm sorry, Professor, I don't regularly read the Quibbler, if that's what you're referring to?"
Snorts of laughter erupted from around the class, as the Gryffindors, and even some Slytherins, try and suppress their snickers. Umbridge went red, and he could swear he saw steam erupt from her ears. "I don't read that rag!"
"Oh, um… sorry, Professor." Harry profusely apologized. "You just seemed like the type that would."
Ron was cradling his head in his hands as he desperately tried to contain his laughter, all the while Hermoine looked like she was either going to chastise him or join in the laughter herself. Umbridge only seemed to get more angry at his response, glaring at him in hatred, before that ridiculous sweet smile appeared on her face.
"Oh, Mr. Potter," Umbridge finally said, her voice laced with mockery. "You do have such an overactive imagination. But let's not spread falsehoods in this classroom, shall we? After all, spreading lies is a very serious offense. Don't you agree?"
Lies. The back of his bandaged hand still hurt, and he could feel it pulse with pain at her reference.
"Of course, Professor." Harry replied easily.
The class went on from there, as they all read the ridiculous Slinkhard book that Umbridge forced them to buy. It was a waste of paper in his mind, a book full of useless words that did nothing but give him a headache every time he tried to read it.
When class ended he stormed out like he always did, grateful that another day passed by without him falling into one of her traps and landing himself in a detention. He didn't wait for Ron or Hermoine, instead walking down random corridors as he vented frustration.
He turned a corner and came upon a familiar face, a girl he had been meaning to talk to since the start of the year. She was looking down sullenly. "Cho?"
Cho's eyes widened as she looked up at him, clearly surprised by his presence. "H-Harry?"
He smiled hesitantly, already feeling awkward. "How have you been?"
"I-I've been alright." Cho answered, pushing a strand of black hair behind her hair.
"I've been meaning to talk to you," Harry swallowed his hesitance. "about Cedric."
"Oh." Cho stood straighter, suddenly seeming off.
"I didn't know Cedric well, but I knew he was a good person." Harry said. "He didn't deserve what happened to him. It… It should have been me."
"No!" Cho replied. "Don't say such things, it's not your fault."
"Thanks, but I feel like it is." Harry sighed, looking at the girl in front of him. "You must be a mess."
"It's been hard." Cho sniffed.
Harry couldn't help it, he reached out and hugged her. Cho stiffened, before seemingly collapsing into his embrace. She cried silently, and he held her as tears ran down her face.
"It's okay." Harry comforted. "Don't let anyone tell you to move on, or to forget about him. These things take time, and I'll be there every step of the way if you need me."
Finally they both pulled away, Cho wiping away the tear tracks on her face.
"Thanks, Harry." Cho smiled. "I needed that."
"Anytime."
Cho turned and left, heading down the hallway and away from him. Harry watched her leave, only for another voice to get his attention. "Comforting Cedric's widow, Potter?"
He turned, finding a unimpressed looking Pansy Parkinson staring at him. "Parkinson."
"You know, for how you treated me the other day, I'd almost guess you were a different person." Pansy remarked, scrutinizing him up and down.
It was clear what she was referring to, in how he treated Cho versus her the other day. Harry couldn't help but agree with her, not entirely knowing why his personality seemed so different recently. It was like he had this sudden lust for power, to dominate and destroy anything or anyone in his way.
"Is that how you want me to treat you? Like a fragile girl that will cry on my shoulder?" Harry asked, walking up to Pansy and groping her big bum under her skirt. "No. I think you want me to treat you like the whore you are."
"F-Fuck." Pansy quivered in his grasp. "You really know what to say to a girl."
"Do you know why that is, Pansy?" He asked quietly, pushing a finger deep into her panties and into her lips. She was drenched, soaked to the core because of his touch. "It's because you're my whore. Say it."
"I-I'm a whore." Pansy bit her lip, her back arching. "Your whore! Morgana!"
She came, and he could feel his finger inside her get soaked from her arousal. He ripped it out of her, causing Pansy to gasp, and shook the fluid off it. She was panting, desperately trying to get her lust under control as her body shook. He could take her in that moment if he wanted to, put her on her knees and watch as she sucked his cock.
"I'm going to visit the library this evening." Harry stated, uncaring for her current state. "I know you're a prefect, so I trust you can get me inside?"
"Yes, Master." Pansy replied, whispering the last word fervently.
-
It had been mere days since he had first taken her, but for her it had been an eternity. She had felt amazing after he had first claimed her, suddenly having more energy and magic than she knew what to do with. Her spells were suddenly stronger, her appearance more beautiful, and a unseen confidence seemed to fill her for the first time.
Then came the realization, the horror at the idea of never getting near his magic again. The mere thought of Harry drove her wild, and seeing him in class was nearly unbearable for her loins. She had masturbated for days at this point, doing so for hours on end to the thought of him.
He entered the room she requested to meet him in, closing the door behind him with a thud that made her heart jump. She wetted her lips in anticipation, the sound louder than she could have thought possible.
"Take off your clothes."
The command sent her scrambling, desperately unbuttoning her dress shirt and throwing away her tie and skirt unceremoniously. He stared at her, drinking in the sight of her body in a way that soaked her to the core.
"I'm going to be fucking you from now on." Potter stated, causing her to bite her lip in arousal. "Is that what you want?"
"Y-Yes!" Pansy gasped.
Her body was turned and pushed against the wall in an instant, as he held her in place. She could hear him unbuckling his trousers, and the weight of his massive cock against her skin. He was so huge, and he could care less for her own comfort as he shoved her panties down her thighs and lined his shaft up with her lips.
He grit his teeth as he sheathed himself fully into her, hearing Pansy cry out in pain and pleasure. This wasn't sex, it was an extermination.
He pushed her against the wall, holding her up by her fat arse so that her feet left the floor. She yelled and screamed obscenities, pounding the wall with her fists and he thrusted into her. He stared at her arse, watching it jiggle and bounce as he obliterated her insides. His hand reached out, grabbing Pansy's hair as he thrusted even harder into her.
"FUCK!" Pansy hollered at the top of her lungs, her mascara and makeup ruined by tears and sweat. "I-I can't stop cumming!"
She was right. His whore hadn't stopped cumming since he first entered her, and it helped lubricate her insides for his shaft.
He could feel his release coming, and sped up his thrusts. The noise of slapping of skin was so loud in the small room he thought his eardrums would burst, but he carried on. He beared down on her, doing his best to absolutely blow her back out as his release got closer and closer.
With a final full-body slam he sheathed himself fully inside Pansy Parkinson, roaring with power as his release filled her to the brim. She screamed and screamed, her body twitching uncontrollably beneath him as he came. His cum was powerful, filled with magic and energy, his load so massive that it bulged out her stomach and dripped from her obscenely tight snatch.
With a final movement he pushed her off his shaft unceremoniously, letting his whore fall several feet to the stone floor. She moaned on the ground, clutching her swollen stomach as cum poured like a river from her cunt.
He snorted at the pathetic sight, giving his unclean nasty shaft a jerk. "Suck my cock, bitch."
Pansy moaned, pushing herself slowly to her knees and wrapping both hands around the monstrous shaft. She was still a pureblood woman at the end of the day, and knew how to take care of her wizard as a result.
She cleaned his shaft, sucking on its head and licking the sides clean. Eventually she settled on jerking it with both her hands.
"You know, almost all the girls in Slytherin dream about you." Pansy whispered as she stroked his cock. "You could probably take any of them if you wanted to."
His cock pulsed, twitching violently in Pansy's grip as his arousal skyrocketed at her words. He didn't know if she was just trying to boost ego, and genuinely wanted to know if she was telling the truth. "Are you lying to me?"
Pansy flinched. "No!"
"Oh?" Harry's brow raised in doubt. "Tell me about them."
"About my roommates?" Pansy asked, looking off balance. "Well, Tracey Davis is rumored to have a shrine in her closet devoted to you. She's a half blood like you, so it would make some sense. It's hard to figure out what the Carrow twins think, but I'm pretty sure one of them stole your Quidditch jersey."
His cock was almost painfully hard at this point as Pansy stroked it, the veins bulging with blood and magic making a grotesque sight. The thought of so many girls, Slytherin girls, lusting after him did strange things to him.
"And who's the worst of the bunch?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
Pansy seemed to genuinely consider the question, biting her lip in thought before she finally opened her mouth. "Greengrass. Definitely Greengrass."
He had often listened to his dorm mates discuss different girls around the castle. They all seemed to have similar opinions, rating the bums of certain girls above others along with intense arguing of the bust size of one witch against another. Unanimously they all seemed to agree that Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott were the hottest girls in the school, and Harry was sure there was a betting pool over who could get with one of them first.
But there was one girl in their year that no one seemed to mention, the risk in doing so seemingly too high. Daphne Greengrass. She was a Slytherin, the meanest of the mean, rumored to be wealthier than Malfoy, and with a arsenal of dark spells no one wanted to see firsthand. He was sure his dorm mates didn't know what was really true when it came to her, but they all seemed to have the same consensus that she shouldn't be touched.
She was easily the most beautiful girl in the castle, something his roommates never argued over because there was no arguement to be made.
"Daphne Greengrass?" He asked incredulously. "Seriously?"
"Absolutely." Pansy nodded, dead serious. "It's hard to tell with her, but I've learned some of her quirks over the years. She stares at you all the time, to the point it's somewhat unsettling. Davis even makes jokes about it, and Greengrass always pays attention when your name comes up."
Harry felt strangely sick, a weird feeling of excitement mixing with horror within him. One one hand he wanted to believe what Pansy was telling him, that Daphne Greengrass genuinely liked him and that he could somehow get in a relationship with her. One the other, he wondered if this was some sort of insane joke, and that Greengrass really just hated his guts secretly.
"You're not starting a coven or something, are you?"
"A coven?"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Just look it up in the library, Potter."
SLAP
His cock slammed against the side of her face, sending her sprawling onto the floor. It seemed Pansy had forgotten her place.
"S-Sorry!" Pansy squeaked, rubbing her cheek where he had cock slapped her. "Powerful wizards used to have groups of women that followed them, typically called covens. They haven't been seen in a long time, but supposedly a wizard would usually gain power from his coven. The bigger the coven, the more powerful the wizard."
"And witches would just follow these wizards around?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"There's more to it than that. Rituals, politics, and courtships, all sorts of things the coven would deal with. If you think about it, one wizard having many witches bound to him would increase his political power immensely." Pansy's cheeks tinted red. "That's not mentioning that witches are typically drawn to powerful wizards. Kind of like me."
"Huh, I guess I'll look into it." Harry shrugged, putting his robes back on and heading to the library. "See you around, Parkinson."
"Of course, anytime, Harry."
-
The dim light of his wand illuminated the ancient, dusty pages of the book Harry had found deep within the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. It was past midnight at this point, and the castle was silent, save for the faint rustle of pages and the occasional creak of the library's ancient shelves.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he read, his eyes scanning the words that seemed to pulse with a dark, forbidden knowledge. The book was bound in leather that had long since faded to a dull, cracked brown, its title being The Arcane Art of Coven-Binding.
His curiosity had led him here, far beyond the boundaries of what was taught in classes, and what he was now uncovering sent a chill down his spine.
In the days of old, the most powerful wizards would gather to themselves a coven—a select group of witches sworn to their service. These witches, bound by magic and loyalty, would amplify the wizard's power, lending him their strength, and in return, they would gain protection, influence, and a share in the wizard's magical prowess.
Covens were not merely a display of political power, but a potent source of magical strength. The rituals binding the witches to the wizard were complex and dangerous, requiring not only consent but a deep, mutual trust. Once formed, a coven could rival the might of the most powerful magical artifacts, granting the wizard unparalleled influence over both the magical and mundane worlds.
Harry's mind raced. The idea of a coven—of wielding such power—was both thrilling and terrifying. He had never heard of this in any of his classes, nor had it been mentioned in any of the history books he had read. The thought of wizards commanding the loyalty and magic of others in such a way felt almost... wrong, yet undeniably alluring.
Many of these covens became legendary, their deeds etched into the very fabric of wizarding history, though much of their existence has been obscured or erased from common knowledge by the passage of time and the shifting tides of power. It is said that those who mastered the art of coven-binding could challenge even the most feared Dark Lords, their collective magic rendering them nearly invincible.
Harry swallowed hard, the flickering light from his wand casting eerie shadows across the pages. He couldn't help but think of Dumbledore, of Voldemort, and of all the powerful wizards who had shaped the world he now lived in. The temptation to delve deeper was overwhelming, but he knew he was treading dangerous ground. This knowledge, though fascinating, was likely forbidden for a reason. Yet the idea of it lingered in his mind—what could such power do in the hands of someone like him? Could it be used to defeat Voldemort?
That last thought burned in his mind, and he thought back to the graveyard from last year, of Umbridge and her meddling, and of Cho. Seeing Cedric's widow and what Voldemort did to people had changed him, made him ruthless.
He thought of how he treated Pansy earlier, used her for his own personal pleasure. He would do anything to defeat Voldemort.
A/N:
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