I have a p a treon up if anyone wants to support me! Early access to all of my chapters for all of my stories, there are different levels available, each one gets you a different amount of weeks early access, before everything is posted publicly. The only exception is items that are specifically listed as only, which right now is a Christmas Special for Stimulation theory!
w w w . Pa treon . c o m / Cal_The_Wandcrafter
Just delete the spaces! Thank you so much!
"Hogwarts is looking particularly real today," Harry mused, as he strolled through the deserted corridors. His hand trailed along the cold, stone walls, the familiar feel of the ancient school grounding him amidst the chaos of his quest. Not a real quest, like the ones he used to frequently take to level up his friendships, or progress through the school year, but a quest of his own making.
It started off simple enough, one day he was having a nice quiet relaxing day in the library, picking through Luna's brain about how the simulation worked, when he had asked her a simple question that took him down this path.
--
"So why exactly is everything broken right now?" He had asked, hoping she had the answers he was looking for.
But the blonde girl simply shrugged. "Maybe the developers tried to update it and something went wrong?" She suggested, her voice as light as her feathery touch.
"How exactly do the updates work? Do they ever do anything big?" Harry pressed on, his curiosity piqued.
Luna tilted her head to the side, her eyes squinting slightly as she pondered his question. "Well, typically they happen late at night, when everyone's asleep," she explained. "They're usually small things, you know, like fixing a glitch here or there, tweaking the AI to be more responsive. Last year, for instance, they made the lighting a bit better down in the dungeons. Not enough that you'd really notice, but it helped with not tripping over the cobblestone."
"How do you know that's what they fixed?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowing. "I mean, I get that you are a program, but how is it that you know that exactly? Is there some sort of log of everything that they change? Or do you just make educated guesses?"
Luna shrugged, her silky hair brushing against the delicate fabric of her shirt. "It's mainly just noticing stuff, Harry," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "We all form hypotheses, based on the patterns we observe. It's like when you know someone's been in the kitchen because the smell of baking cookies lingers in the air. Or when you see the grass is wet in the morning and deduce that it rained. It's not always a perfect science, but it's surprising how often we're right."
"But if there's water on the grass in the morning, couldn't it just be dew? Or a sprinkler watering the yard?" Harry countered, his mind racing with the implications of her words.
"Now you're properly thinking. Opening up your mind to different interpretations of the same event. You would make a decent Ravenclaw, Harry." Luna said with a smirk.
"Thanks, Luna. I try my best... but I'm still not learning ancient runes," Harry said with a laugh, pushing the hair out of his eyes.
Luna's smirk grew. "You might want to," she said, her tone playful yet pointed. "It's a fascinating skill, being able to reprogram reality."
Harry stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Wait, reprogram reality? I thought it was just for like building spells and enchanting things!" His voice echoed through the empty hallway, the words bouncing off the walls and leaving a trail of bewilderment in their wake.
With a gentle laugh, Luna leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What do you think building spells is, Harry?" she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. "It's the art of combining arithmancy with ancient runes to test magical reactions. The runes are the alphabet, arithmancy is the rules of grammar, and magic itself is the parchment you write on." Her warm, soft lips brushed against his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. "I thought Hermione Granger would have told you this by now. I'll have to make sure she gets a spanking for not telling you."
Harry felt his face flush, trying to keep his thoughts focused on the matter at hand. "So, you're saying that if I knew the right runes and the right way to combine them, I could... alter the simulation?" His voice was thick with excitement.
Luna nodded, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "In theory, yes. But it's incredibly complex, Harry. The system is designed to resist such changes unless you have administrative access, which we obviously don't."
"But, have you ever tried?" Harry persisted, his mind racing with possibilities.
"Oh, I've dabbled," Luna admitted, her cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink. "One time, I was feeling a bit insecure about my appearance, you know, like everyone does, so I tried to use runes to give myself a little... enhancement." She gestured delicately to her chest, her eyes darting away shyly. "I thought if I could make a sort of menu, with sliders and such, I could adjust things like size and shape. But it turns out that manipulating one's own body isn't as straightforward as you'd think. All I managed to do was turn my hair to a different shade of blonde. Not quite the transformation I was aiming for." Her words trailed off as she reached a hand under her shirt, her delicate fingers cupping the soft mounds of her breasts. "Still," she murmured, giving them a gentle squeeze, "I've come to appreciate what I have. They're sensitive, and fit nicely in your hands as they are right now."
Shaking the thought of playing with Luna's breasts out of his head, Harry leaned in, his voice earnest. "Could you teach me?" He asked, his eyes searching hers for any trace of hesitation. "If I could alter things about the simulation, do you have any idea how incredible that would be!?"
Luna's smile grew as she reached for the hem of her shirt, her nimble fingers deftly unbuttoning each button. "Well, I suppose I could give you a few pointers, Harry," she said, her voice a soft purr that seemed to resonate through his very core. "But remember, it's incredibly complex. You need to understand the underlying structure of the simulation, and be very precise with your intent."
With a dramatic flourish, she pulled her shirt open, revealing her bare chest to Harry's eager gaze. Her breasts were perfect, a soft handful each, with pink nipples that tightened into little buds as the cool air of the library caressed them. She didn't bother with a bra today, it seemed, leaving him with the delightful surprise of seeing her in all her glory. Luna's eyes never left his, watching him with a curious mix of amusement and anticipation.
"But I'm not the best at teaching, Harry," she admitted, her voice a sultry whisper. "If you really want to master this... art," she paused, her fingertips tracing lazy circles around her areola, her eyes glazed with pleasure, "you should talk to Fleur Delacour. She's a pro at ancient runes. Once you get some tutoring from her under your belt, I'll give you all my notes I had on the topic… for a price."
He had a feeling he already knew what the price was going to be, and based on the way she was squeezing and pulling at her perky nipples, he was more than looking forward to paying it.
--
Which led to the present, Harry purposefully striding through the halls following Fleurs name on the Marauders map, which had started to glow faintly the moment she had appeared in the simulation. He hadn't seen her in years, not since she had popped up randomly one evening, looking as stunning as ever, and he had talked to her, starting some quest that he couldn't remember the details of, but was certain he never finished it.
When he finally found her, she was standing in front of a classroom door, her hand hovering over the knob, as if she was deciding whether to go in or not. She was dressed in her usual elegant attire, a light blue blouse tucked into a high waist dark blue skirt that brushed right past her knees, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail that bounced gently as she turned to face him. "Well, if it isn't Harry Potter," she said, her French accent as smooth as melted butter. "
"Fleur," Harry greeted her with a grin, his eyes lingering on her chest before snapping back up to her face. "What brings you to Hogwarts?" He hoped his tone sounded casual, but his mind was racing with the potential of possibly learning some ancient runes... Or figuring out what the quest for her was. He briefly remembered being assigned one, but for the life of him he could not remember what the details were.
Her eyes searched his for a moment before she spoke, "Just passing through," she said with a coy smile, her voice lilting in a way that suggested she had more to say but wasn't quite ready to share it yet. "But I can always spare some time for you, Harry."
Without missing a beat, Harry took a step closer to her, his heart racing. "Fleur, I've heard that you're quite the expert in ancient runes," he began, trying to keep his voice steady. "Would you mind giving me a crash course? I've got this... project I'm working on, and I could really use your help." He watched her closely, noticing the way her eyes lit up at the mention of her expertise.
Fleur's smile grew, her teeth gleaming in the dim light of the hallway. "But of course, Harry," she said, her voice dripping with a seductive sweetness. "I would be delighted to assist you with your project." She took a step closer to him, her hand brushing against his arm in a gesture that was both casual and intimate. Harry felt a spark of excitement shoot through him, his eyes lingering on her full lips.
"I know of a place where we won't be disturbed. There's this room up on the 7th floor, it becomes whatever you need it to be, I used to do some defense against the dark arts teaching there," Harry said, his voice low and filled with anticipation. "So I know a little bit of the basics. One of my friends, Luna, has taught me some, but she claims you are the best when it comes to tutoring." He watched as a playful glint danced in her eyes, her hand slipping into his, pulling him gently down the hallway.
"Oui, I used to run a side business back in school, selling tutoring on the subject. It is what I focused my masters on, after all. Madame Beauchêne wants me to take over the position of Professor of Ancient Runes, but I think it would be much more interesting to go into curse-breaking, don't you think?" she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as he led her to the Room of Requirement.
"Curse-breaking does sound intriguing," Harry agreed, his heart racing as he felt the familiar pull of her Veela magic on the edge of his brain. They reached the grand staircase, its wide steps sweeping majestically before them, lined with gleaming statues that looked eerily alive in the flickering torchlight shifting in and out of focus as the steps moved around seemingly at random. "But I think I'd be more suited to teaching," he said with a grin. "I've got a knack for getting people to do things they might not normally consider."
Fleur's laugh was like a silver bell, echoing through the cavernous space. "I'm sure you do, Harry," she said, her eyes twinkling. "I believe we are similar that way. My allure has it's advantages, and..." she paused, turning to look at him and squinting her eyes slightly, "I suspect you have a bit of charm of your own."
Her hand tightened on his, and Harry felt a warm rush of energy pulse through him, the air around them thickening with something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Your magic feels... different," she murmured, her voice a soft caress against his mind. "Not like the usual Hogwarts student. It's... seductive, but not in the same way a Veela's is. More... calculated. Non, I cannot describe it very well."
This took him by surprise, and for a moment, Harry couldn't help but wonder if her observation was a product of the simulation's newfound glitches or if there was something more to it. "Do you remember if it was like this back during the Tournament? Or maybe it's just been a long time," he said with a shrug, trying to play it off as nonchalant as possible.
Fleur tilted her head to the side, her gaze lingering on him as if she was trying to solve a puzzle. "Non, Harry, it was not like this. You were charming, of course, but it was not... this." She didn't explain further, which only added to the mystery.
They continued their ascent up the staircase, the warmth of her hand in his sending delicious shivers down his spine. Harry's eyes couldn't help but rove over her body, taking in the curve of her hips and the way her skirt swayed with every step she took. He noticed the subtle allure she exuded, the way her movements were just a little too graceful, a little too mesmerizing to be entirely natural. It was as if the very fabric of reality bent around her, urging him closer. He had never really experienced it to this level before, even back during the Triwizard tournament, and it unnerved him a little bit to think about the effects of the magic.
As they climbed higher, the gentle sway of her hips grew more pronounced, as if her body was speaking a language of seduction that he was eager to respond to. He felt his breath hitch as her scent reached him, a faint bouquet of lavender and vanilla that seemed to intoxicate him further. The tension in the air grew palpable, a silent dance of attraction playing out between them. Harry's mind raced with thoughts of the power she could potentially hold over him if she knew of his situation, but he pushed the fear aside, focusing on the prize at hand. He realized it was extremely unnerving to be on the other end of holding power over someone. Sure he had realized it before in his fights with Voldemort, being completely outclassed, but in this way it terrified him more than any battle he had been in.
Fleur's allure grew stronger with every step they took, the very fabric of the simulation seeming to pulse with it. Harry's eyes kept flicking down to her chest, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. The way the torchlight painted shadows across her skin, hinting at the curves beneath her blouse, was almost too much for him to handle. The urge to reach out and touch her grew stronger with each beat of his heart. He knew he had to be careful; if he let his desire consume him, he could easily become lost in the fantasy she wove without even realizing it. Was this how his classmates felt? Daphne, Pansy, Hermione, Susan, Hannah, and everyone else when he leveraged the bug in the code to get everything he wanted from them? God, he hoped so, because the feeling was nearly addicting with how pleasurable it was.
Finally, they arrived at the seventh floor, and Harry felt the tension in his body ease a little. He knew the Room of Requirement was just around the corner, waiting for him to think the words that would reveal it. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "Follow me," he murmured, guiding her down the dimly lit corridor. His eyes searched the wall for the tell-tale sign of the room's hidden entrance, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. Would he be able to resist her, or would he succumb to the siren's call of her Veela magic? He had to admit, he was intrigued by the challenge she presented. One thing is for sure, it was either going to be a very long, or very short tutoring session.
--
45 minutes was all it took for Harry's resolve to wear as thin as a parchment page. Fleur's allure was relentless, and as they sat side by side in the Room of Requirement, which had transformed into a cozy, dimly lit study, her scent of lavender and vanilla surrounded him like an invisible embrace. He could feel his thoughts slipping from the ancient runes etched before him to the softness of her skin, the taste of her lips, and the promise of the passionate encounter that lay just out of reach.
15 minutes ago he had realized she was doing it on purpose, there was no other explanation for the gradual increase in strength of her charm over him, and her flirtatious behavior, a brush of the hair here, leaning over and pressing her ample breast into his shoulder there, the almost predatory look in her eye when she would catch him lingering his gaze on her for more than a few seconds. It was as if she knew his darkest secrets, knew he could not refuse. And she was enjoying it, the thrill of the hunt, the thrill of the power she had over him.
"Alright, Professeure Delacour," Harry said, his voice thick with desire. "I'll admit it, you've got me. I've never felt your allure this strongly before. What's your secret?"
Fleur's smile grew, and she stood up from beside him, her movements as graceful as a gazelle. "Ah, Harry," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "Part of it was simple curiosity. I knew you felt a resistance to my magic, And it was fascinating to see how far you could take it. There are fully grown sorcerers that cannot resist as strong as you have." She paused, unbuttoning the top two buttons of her blouse. "And part of it was attraction, of course. You are quite the charming young man," she added, her eyes glinting with amusement.
He watched as she took slow steps to the other side of the table, leaning forward against it to meet his gaze - the fabric of her shirt parting slightly to reveal the upper swell of her breasts, and Harry felt his resolve waver. "Your scent," she murmured, leaning in closer, her nose flaring as she took in a deep breath. "Vous avez l'impression d'avoir satisfait beaucoup de femmes." Her hand reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek before tracing a path down to his chest. "I felt it coming off you the second you walked up to me."
"What does that mean?" Harry managed to ask, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Ta bitte c'est alléchante. It means, Harry, that I want your cock, and I want it now. I can feel the power of your sexual experiences, the essence of the pleasure you've given to others, and it calls to me like a siren's song," Fleur said, her voice low and seductive. She pulled up a chair to the other side of the desk, and Harry could feel as the stockings on her foot made contact with the fabric over his crotch.
With a knowing smile, she began to slowly unbutton the rest of her shirt, each button revealing more and more of her flawless skin. Harry's eyes were glued to her, his mouth dry as the desert. She was like a Venus de Milo coming to life, a creature of pure beauty and temptation, and he was about to be her next victim. When her shirt slipped off her shoulders and fell to the floor, Harry's eyes were immediately drawn to the lacy white bra that was left behind. It was simple, yet elegant, the material as fine as the silk of a spider's web, and it cupped her breasts perfectly, pushing them together in a way that made his mouth water. Her skin was pale and smooth, her collarbones standing out like works of art against the soft glow of the room.
Fleur noticed his gaze and reached back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away from her body like a leaf from a tree. Her breasts bounced gently as they were freed from their constraints, the sight making Harry's cock throb painfully in his pants, his girth now bulging against the ball of her foot.
"I usually do the seducing," Harry said, his voice strained with arousal.
Fleur chuckled softly, a sound that sent a delicious shiver down Harry's spine. "Ah, but it is nice to be the one not in charge sometimes, non?" She stepped out of her chair, her foot still rubbing against his erection. "Let me show you how it feels to be the one who is desired, Harry. To be the one who is pursued."
Her foot slid up his thigh, and she leaned in closer, honey brown eyes locked onto his face. "Take off your pants," she whispered, her voice a silken command that Harry found impossible to resist. He swallowed hard, his hands shaking slightly as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, pushing them down to his knees. His cock sprang free, the tip brushing against the fabric of the chair as he sat back down, his heart hammering in his chest.
Fleur's eyes never left his face as she began to stroke him with her foot, her toes teasing his sensitive flesh through the thin material of his boxers. Harry could feel the heat of her, the pressure of her foot against his hardness, and it was all he could do not to moan out loud. His eyes fluttered shut as she applied more pressure, her movements slow and deliberate.
"Magnifique," she murmured, her voice a sweet symphony of lust. "You truly are a well-endowed young man, Harry." Her foot slid up and down his length, her toes caressing his shaft with a gentle squeeze that had him gritting his teeth to hold back a groan. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched his reactions, his body's betrayal to the power she held over him.
With a flick of her ankle, she hooked her foot around the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down, her movements precise and controlled. Harry could feel the fabric tightening around his balls before it gave way, his cock springing free. He watched in fascination as her toes played along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, the feeling sending shockwaves of pleasure through him.
Feur leaned in closer, her eyes never leaving his as she brought her foot up to his cock, her toes curling around the base of his shaft. Harry bit his lip, trying not to moan as she began to stroke him, her foot moving in slow, deliberate motions. He didn't have a foot fetish, not really, but with Fleur, it was as if every sensation was amplified tenfold. The way she was looking at him, her eyes dark with desire, made him feel like he could come just from the sheer power of her gaze.
Her other foot joined in, both of them working in tandem to tease and torment him, her toes tracing patterns on his balls that had him squirming in his seat. Harry's eyes were glued to her face, watching the way her full lips parted slightly as she concentrated on her task, her pupils dilating with each stroke she administered. He could feel the heat building within him, his balls tightening with the promise of release.
"Could you... could you ask the room to give us a bed?" Fleur's voice was a breathless whisper, her cheeks flushed with arousal. Harry nodded, his own voice thick with desire as he focused his thoughts on the one piece of furniture that could serve as their playground.
And just like that, the Room of Requirement responded to his silent command, the floor rumbling slightly as a large, four-poster bed with silk sheets and plush pillows materialized before them. It was positioned in the center of the room, the dark wood contrasting with the soft light that filled the space. Fleur's eyes widened, her foot sliding from Harry's cock as she stared at the sudden appearance of the bed.
Her smile grew, a hint of surprise playing on her lips. "Merci beaucoup," she smiled as Harry could feel the allure pulsing off of her, but it was different now. It was as if the power dynamics had shifted, and she was giving him permission to take the lead. He stood up, his legs feeling a bit wobbly from the intense pleasure of her foot play, and walked around the table to stand before her. He offered his hand, and she took it with a grace that made his heart race even faster.
He leaned down and kissed the back of her hand, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary, savoring the softness of her skin. She giggled, a sound that was as delightful as the chiming of bells in the distance, and he felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the room's enchantments. She stood, her large D cup breasts perfectly perky as they swayed with her movement, and allowed him to rest his arm around her waist as he led her towards the bed.
As they reached the side of the bed, Fleur gracefully bent down, placing her hands on the mattress to steady herself, giving Harry an upskirt view of her matching white lace panties that framed her heart-shaped ass like a precious jewel. He couldn't help but stare, his eyes feasting on the sight. She looked back at him, her expression a mix of innocence and sultry temptation, and he knew that she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside, revealing the defined muscles of his chest and stomach.
Feur crawled forward on her hands and knees, her hips swaying back and forth in a hypnotic motion. Harry followed her, his eyes never leaving the alluring curve of her backside. The moment was charged with an electrifying tension that seemed to crackle in the air around them. When he was close enough, he leaned in, his breath hot against The curve of her lower back, making her shiver. He placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of her skirt and panties. With a firm but gentle tug, he pulled them both down, exposing her smooth, bare skin to the coolness of the room.
Her pussy was a vision of perfection, neatly trimmed silver blonde hair, with a hint of moisture glistening in the candlelight. Harry felt his mouth water at the sight, his cock twitching with anticipation. He knelt behind her, his hands sliding down her thighs as he positioned himself between her legs. He could feel her heart racing, her breathing shallow and quick, and he knew she was just as eager as he was. He leaned in, his nose brushing against her skin as he took in her scent, a heady mix of arousal and the faint hint of her perfume.
Her breath hitched as his tongue flicked out, tracing the delicate line of her slit from top to bottom. Fleur's hands gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white with the effort of not pushing him away. Harry chuckled against her, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine as he took his time exploring her folds. He knew he was in no hurry, that this was all about savoring the moment, about teasing and pleasing her until she begged for more.
His tongue dipped into her wetness, the taste of her making his cock throb with need. She was sweet, definitely better tasting than most of the girls at Hogwarts. He had always heard people describe the flavor of cunt as being a sweet nectar of some sort, when in most of his experience it had been more like a mixture of a bland sweat, slightly metallic and salty with not a whole lot much going on, but Fleur Delacour was completely different. It was as if everything about her was purpose built to be as addicting as possible. She was sweet, almost like honey, and each kiss he placed on her lower lips sent waves of warmth through his body, like a shot of fire whiskey on a cold day.
Her moans grew louder, her hips moving in rhythm with his tongue, and Harry felt his own arousal spike. It was as if he could feel the very essence of her pleasure, like an intoxicating potion that clouded his senses and made him want more. He slipped two fingers into her tight, wet heat, pumping them in and out as he continued to lick and suck at her clit. She was so wet, so responsive, and it was all Harry could do not to lose control and fuck her right there on the spot. But he knew that would be too easy, and where was the fun in that? No, he was going to make her come first, make her beg for it. She thought she could be in control of him? Absolutely not. He would take control of their lovemaking, and absolutely drive her crazy with non-stop pleasure for hours on end. He would make it his only goal in life to drive her into orgasm after orgasm, worshiping her as the temple of sex that her body was.
His tongue swirled around her clit, the muscles in his neck straining with the effort as he tried to find just the right spot to make her fall apart. And when he did, oh when he did, it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Her legs began to quiver, her body tightening around his fingers as she moaned his name. Harry's brain grew fuzzy, all his thoughts consumed by the exquisite taste of her arousal, the way her cunt clenched around his digits like a vice, the sweet symphony of her gasps and whimpers. It was as if he had been cast under a love potion, his entire being focused on her pleasure.
"Oh, Harry," she panted, her voice thick with passion. "Mon dieu, c'est incroyable." She pushed back against him, her hips moving in time with his tongue, her pussy grinding against his face as she sought more of his touch. He could feel her getting closer, her muscles tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "Oui," she whispered. "Oui, va plus vite, Harry!" Her words were a plea, a command, and Harry responded eagerly, increasing the pace of his tongue against her clit, feeling her walls tighten around his fingers.
The room grew hazy around him, the candlelight flickering like stars in a night sky. He was lost in a sea of sensation, the taste of her, the feel of her, the sound of her pleasure. It was like he was drowning in a warm, velvety ocean, each wave crashing over him bringing a new, more intense sensation. The scent of lavender and vanilla grew stronger, wrapping around him like a warm blanket, and he realized that it was coming from her, that it was part of her allure. It was like a potion he had never tasted before, one that went straight to his head and made his cock throb with need.
But Harry was still in control, he told himself. He was the one who had brought her here, he was the one who had made her want this. He was the one who had the power, not her. Yet, as he felt her getting closer to the edge, the pressure in her pussy building, he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement that was almost terrifying. It was as if he was standing at the precipice of something huge, something that would change him forever. He didn't know what it was, but he knew he wanted it. He wanted to make her come so badly that it was all he could think about.
Fleur's moans grew louder, her hips bucking back against his face, and he knew he had her. He sucked her clit into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as his fingers curled inside her, hitting that magical spot that made her scream. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, her body shaking with the force of it. Harry held on tight, not letting up for a second, drinking in her sweetness as she came, feeling the power of her climax surge through him.
Her fluids spurted out, soaking his face, the taste of her potent and addictive on his tongue. She was a fountain of pleasure, and Harry lapped it up greedily, savoring every drop. Her cries of ecstasy filled the room, echoing off the walls like a siren's song that only he could hear. He didn't stop, didn't dare to stop, not until she was fully satisfied, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
"Ah, Harry," she gasped, her accent thick with passion. "You are so...so good at this." Her hips twitched against his face, her legs quivering as the aftershocks of her climax rippled through her body. Harry pulled back, his cheeks glistening with her juices, and grinned up at her. He stood, his cock still hard and demanding attention. Fleur took the initiative, turning to face him, and pushing him down onto the soft mattress. "Now, let's see how good you are at receiving, mon cher." She straddled him, her legs on either side of his chest, and took his cock in her hand. The grip was firm, yet gentle, a promise of things to come.
Her eyes never left his as she lowered her mouth to the tip of his cock. Harry could feel her warm breath against his skin, and it was all he could do to keep from bucking his hips up into her mouth. She took her time, her tongue flicking out to taste him, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through his body. He gripped the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white as she took him inch by inch into the warmth of her mouth.
It was as if time had stopped, the world outside of their little bubble of passion ceased to exist. Not metaphorically, not in some sort of philosophical sense, it physically felt to him as if time itself had bent to their desires, as Harry felt himself grow even harder as she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, all tongue, all cheek, all lips, no teeth. It was masterful how well she pleasured him, as if it was the one thing in life she was born to do above all else. He could feel the power in her gaze, the way she was watching him, studying his reactions, learning what he liked. And he knew that she was going to use that knowledge against him, to drive him wild.
A strange sensation washed over him, a mix of euphoria and confusion. Was he the one in control here? Or was she? It was as if he was caught in a tug of war with his own desires, his mind and body torn between the thrill of dominance and the sweet surrender of submission. He had brought her here, he had initiated this, but somehow she had managed to turn the tables on him... Right? She had become the one in charge, the one dictating the pace and the intensity of their encounter. Because... He had let her... Hadn't he?
But as she took more of him into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with each bob of her head, Harry couldn't think. He couldn't speak. He could only feel. The warmth, the wetness, the suction... It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. And then she stopped, looking up at him with those dark, hungry eyes, and he realized that she had indeed been in charge all along. She had been toying with him, playing him like a fiddle, and he had been her devoted instrument.
He tried to move, to push her down further, to take control, but his body wouldn't respond. It was as if every nerve ending in his body was firing at once, a symphony of pleasure that had him paralyzed. He was a statue, a living, breathing work of art, and Fleur was the sculptor who had brought him to life with her mouth. He could feel the beginnings of his own orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with each passing second. But she pulled back, leaving him gasping for more.
And then she lowered her head back down, taking in his tip once more, but this time she didn't stop. She engulfed him, her mouth a wet, hot cavern that seemed to never end. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, his hips bucking involuntarily as she took him deep into her throat. Her hand pumped in time with her mouth, the sloppy sounds of her saliva smacking against his shaft filling the room. Her other hand played with his balls, her long fingers rolling them gently in their sack. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent scream as she brought him to the brink and held him there, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
He could feel his climax building, the pressure in his balls growing, his cock swelling in her mouth. And then she stopped again, pulling away with a pop that echoed through the room. Harry's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing. He stared up at her, his pupils blown wide with lust, and she smirked down at him, her lips shiny with his precum.
With a growl of frustration, Harry managed to channel all of his willpower and lift his arm, his hand shaking with the effort. He placed it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her silky hair. He pushed down, guiding her back onto his cock, and she gasped around his girth as she took him in once more. This time she didn't fight it, she didn't tease, she simply obeyed his silent command, her face glazed over with passion.
Fleur took him deeper, her throat stretching around him, and Harry felt a primal satisfaction surge through him. Her cheeks hollowed out even further as she took him all the way in, her nose pressing against his pelvis. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, his hips rising to meet her, his breath coming in ragged pants as she began to bob up and down again, her mouth a warm, wet sheath around him.
The tension grew unbearable, his orgasm coiling in his gut like a spring about to snap. He could feel it, the warmth spreading through his balls, up his shaft, and he knew it was coming. "Fuck," he grunted, his voice a guttural sound that seemed to echo in the quiet room. "Swallow it, Fleur, I'm going to cum."
And then his cock pulsed, spurting his seed into her mouth, and she took it all, her throat working as she swallowed every drop without a single sound of protest or gag. Her eyes never left his, her gaze one of pure, unbridled lust as she took his cum like a good little slut. Harry felt his entire body spasm with the force of his orgasm, his hips bucking up into her mouth, his legs trembling with the effort of holding on. He had never come so hard in his life, the sensation was like a meteor shower, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to go on forever.
But eventually, he caught his breath and managed to work through the cramp in his abdomen, as she released his length with a wet pop and a smile. She wiped a bit of cum from the corner of her mouth and licked it away with a flick of her tongue, a gesture that was both obscene and oddly mesmerizing. "You did well, Harry," she murmured, her voice a sultry purr that seemed to resonate in his very soul. "Truly, I was pushing my allure to its limits, and yet you remained... mostly in control. The fact you were able to move at all is no small feat, mon amour."
The fog in Harry's brain began to dissipate, and he chuckled, his cock still pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. "You're one crazy witch," he said, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and affection. "But I liked it." He couldn't help but feel a bit smug at the thought that he had managed to resist her siren's call, at least a little.
Fleur's smile grew even more playful as she crawled up his body, her breasts bouncing enticingly with each movement. She straddled his waist, her wet pussy hovering just above his still-hard cock. "And I liked it too," she purred, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But now, it's your turn to serve me again, Harry Potter."
Her words were a challenge, one that Harry couldn't resist. "No allure this time," he murmured, his voice a bit hoarse from his earlier moans. "Just you and me, no tricks."
Fleur's smile grew even more mischievous. "Very well, Harry," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We shall see if you can handle me. I have very high expectations from you, a man who can resist a Veela's charm." She leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. "Do you think you have what it takes, Harry?"
Without a word, Harry leaned in and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Her soft lips melted against his, and he could feel the heat from her body radiating into him. He knew she was testing him, pushing him to see how much he truly wanted her, and he was more than willing to rise to the challenge.
As their kiss deepened, Harry felt the tip of his cock brush against her wetness, sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. He leaned his hips in, pressing himself against her, and felt her pussy yield to the pressure, allowing him to enter her inch by delicious inch. Her walls clamped down around him, tight and warm, and he groaned into her mouth, his arms tightening around her as he tried to keep from plunging in too quickly.
Her gasp was music to his ears, a sweet sound of pleasure that spurred him on. He pushed deeper, feeling her stretch around him, her body accommodating his size with ecstasy. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head as he filled her completely, his cock buried to the hilt in her welcoming heat. The feeling was indescribable, a sensation that went beyond physical pleasure, it was a connection that seemed to resonate through their very souls. If he didn't know any better he would have accused her of using her allure right then, but Fleur Delacour was literally just that perfect, that everything about her was next level of arousal, from her perfectly curled eyelashes all the way down to the choice of knee high socks that framed her long slender legs. She was a goddess in every aspect, and the feeling of her hot, wet flesh around his cock was every single bit as divine as he had imagined it would be in all of his deepest fantasies.
They moved together, their hips rocking in a rhythm as old as time itself, a dance that was both fierce and gentle, passionate and tender. Harry could feel every inch of her, every ripple of muscle, every quiver of pleasure that passed through her body. Her pussy was like a vice, squeezing him tightly, holding him deep within her as if she never wanted to let go. And he didn't want to either. He didn't want to ever leave this place, didn't want to ever pull out of her and return to a world where he wasn't buried deep inside the woman he had been lusting after for so long. Everything about her, from the blush on her perfect cheekbones, to the small perky dark pink nipples on her round breasts, the perfectly trimmed silver stubble below her slender waist, it was all ultimate perfection, and he knew nothing would ever compare again to the beauty of the woman he was making love to.
As they moved in perfect sync, their bodies slick with sweat, Fleur shifted her weight, her legs straddling Harry's hips. She rocked back and forth, her hands on his chest, her eyes locked on his. The rhythm was intense, and they both felt the tension building.
Without breaking the pace, Fleur leaned forward, her hands sliding up to Harry's shoulders. She lifted one leg over his body, her foot touching the bed beside his hip. Harry's hands grasped her waist, guiding her as she swung her other leg over, her body now at a 90-degree angle to his.
Fleur's body stretched out, her legs extended to one side, as Harry's hands held her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he thrust upward. The new angle brought a fresh wave of sensations, and Fleur's eyes widened, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. The movement was fluid, their bodies adapting to the new position as they continued to drive toward a shared climax. Harry's eyes never left Fleur's face, his gaze burning with intensity as they moved together, their passion and desire for each other palpable in every moment.
Her moans grew louder, filling the room with a sweet and soft cries of pleasure that Harry delighted in, and took pride in the fact he was the cause of it. Each time he thrust into her, he felt his cock hit deep inside, her walls tightening around him as she got closer to the edge. The angle was exquisite, allowing him to reach depths and folds he did not know where possible, and he could see it in her eyes, the way they rolled back in her head, the way her mouth formed a perfect 'O' as she took him in. She was right about one thing, he still had much to learn. Whatever this position was, it was one he had not ever thought to attempt before, but it was definitely one he was going to be asking her about when they were through.
Fleur's breasts bounced with every thrust, and Harry couldn't help but take them in hand, feeling the soft weight of them, the hardness of her nipples pressing into his palms. He pinched and twisted them gently, feeling her back arch and her hips grind down onto him even harder. Her nails raked through his hair as she kissed him, her tongue dancing with his in a passionate tango that mirrored the rhythm of their hips. The sensation was intoxicating, and Harry knew he was lost in her, in this moment, in this world of pure, unbridled lust. Squeezing again, she threw her head back as a guttural moan escaped her lips, and he took the advantage to plant a series of long kisses across her slender throat, savoring the feeling of her gasping for air against his lips.
Their bodies moved faster now, the slap of their skin echoing through the room as their passion grew wilder. Harry's teeth grazed her neck, and she moaned his name, the sound sending a jolt of excitement through him. He sucked hard on the soft skin, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his mouth. He knew he was leaving his mark on her, a brand that would linger long after their encounter, and the thought filled him with a primal satisfaction. Her hand slid down to his ass, her nails digging into his flesh as she urged him on, her movements growing more desperate, more urgent.
"You like that, don't you?" Harry murmured against her neck, his voice a dark purr that seemed to resonate through her. "You like it when I mark you, don't you, Fleur?" He could feel her nod, her body trembling with the force of her desire. He kissed the spot where he had just sucked, the skin red and raised, and she gasped, her nails digging in even deeper. "Tell me you like it," he demanded, his hips slamming up into her.
"I do," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. "I love it, Harry, please, don't stop." The words were a plea, a whipped cream whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. He complied eagerly, his teeth grazing her neck again, leaving a trail of love bites that would surely be visible tomorrow. Her body arched into him, her breasts pressing into his chest as she sought more, always more. "Oh, Harry," she murmured, her French accent thick and heavy with passion. "You make me feel... Non, I cannot even think of the words, it is how good you make me feel!"
He grinned against her skin, his hips pumping faster, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing through the room. "You're so tight, Fleur," he groaned. "So fucking tight. How is it that you feel like you are perfectly made for my cock?"
Fleur's laugh was breathy, a sweet sound that filled his ears and made his heart race even faster. "Perhaps it is because you have a perfect penis, Harry," she said, her voice a seductive purr that had him groaning even more. She leaned back, giving him an unobstructed view of their joining, watching him move inside of her. "It fills me up just right, stretches me perfectly. It's like... it was made for me." Her words were like a spell, weaving a web of desire around them, the way she talked about his cock like it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. "Oh, Harry," she whispered again, her voice a sweet symphony of lust. "You make me feel so...so...full." The way she drew out the word 'full' had him groaning, his hips bucking up into her.
He couldn't help but agree, her pussy was heaven, a warm, wet heaven that was gripping him like a glove. "And you, Fleur," he murmured, his own voice thick with passion. "You're so wet, so tight, so fucking perfect." He watched as his cock slid in and out of her, her juices coating him, making him glide effortlessly. "It's like...like I've come home." And it was true, he felt like he had found his place, his perfect fit, in this woman's body.
Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink at his words, and she leaned in to kiss him, her hips never stopping their sensual dance. "Ah, Harry," she breathed against his lips. "Yes, we would make a good home together. Come with me back home to Paris, mon amour. I'll keep you happy, I promise. We can use each other's bodies everyday, every night, and I'll show you pleasures you never knew existed."
The thought was tempting, almost too tempting. Harry's mind swam with the images she painted, but he knew he couldn't leave this place, not when he had so much left to explore and fix. But the pleasure she offered was a serious temptation, and he was all too human to resist. Instead of speaking, he leaned down and took one of her perfect nipples into his mouth, suckling gently at first, then harder as he felt her moan vibrate against his tongue.
Her hands found his, guiding them down to her buttocks, and he took the hint, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he began to play. He squeezed and kneaded, feeling her muscles clench and release with each thrust, the cheeks of her ass a delicate canvas that begged for his touch. He spread her cheeks apart, exposing her tight little asshole, and she gasped into his mouth.
With a wicked smile, Harry pulled his hand back and delivered a firm spank to her right cheek, the sound echoing through the room. Fleur's eyes went wide with surprise and pleasure, and she let out a muffled cry against the top of his head. He felt her pussy tighten around him, and her hips bucked up to meet his. It was clear she liked it. He spanked her again, this time a bit harder, watching her face contort into an expression of pure ecstasy.
"Yes, mon cheri! Yes! Hit me again, Harry!" Fleur's voice was a crescendo of desire, her eyes alight with passionate fire. Harry's grin grew wolfish as he obeyed her plea, his hand connecting with her left cheek with a resounding smack. The sound of the impact filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet whispers of their earlier encounter.
Her skin was already flushed a beautiful shade of pink from his earlier attentions, and with each spank, it grew darker, a visual testament to their shared passion. His middle finger, still slick with her juices, trailed along the crack of her ass, teasing her dark pink rosebud, as he dug his fingertips into the soft round flesh, stretching her open slightly. It was a delicate dance of pleasure and pain, and Harry was the maestro, orchestrating every note of her desire.
"Oh, Harry," she moaned deeply as she controlled her breath just barely. "Your cock is so big, so thick, it feels like it's going to split me in two." Her words were like a drug, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. "And when you're rough with me," she continued, her breath quickly dissolving into shallow pants, "it's like nothing else matters. It's just you and me, and the way your body takes over mine."
Her words were like a catalyst, and Harry felt his orgasm begin to coil in his balls, tightening and growing with each passing moment. He could see the same in her, the way her legs trembled as she rode him, her toes curling with each thrust. Her walls were tightening around him, milking him, urging him closer to his release. He knew she was close too, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her eyes fluttering as if she was fighting to keep them open.
With a growl, Harry reached down and grabbed her hips, pulling her down onto him as he pushed up into her. The change in angle made her scream, her nails digging into his shoulders as she threw her head back. "Yes, Harry," she begged, her voice a ragged whisper. "Take me, claim me, make me yours."
Her words sent him over the edge. With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Harry came inside her, his cum filling her up in hot, thick spurts. She threw her head back and screamed his name, her own orgasm crashing over her in waves as she felt him pulse within her. Her pussy clamped down on him, her body trembling with the force of her climax.
For a moment, they just stayed there, joined together in the throes of passion, their hearts pounding in time with the heavy beat of their breathing. And then, with a gentle sigh, Fleur collapsed onto Harry's chest, her body a limp ragdoll of satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as the aftershocks of their shared ecstasy rippled through them.
Her breath was warm against his neck, and Harry felt his heart swell with a feeling of accomplishment and belonging. As they lay tangled together, their sweat-slicked bodies sticking to the silk sheets, he watched her eyelids flutter closed, a content smile playing upon her lips. The room was silent except for their mingled breaths and the distant sound of the Hogwarts clock chiming the late hour.
The candles had burned down to pools of wax, casting a soft glow across the Room of Requirement that seemed to bathe them in a warm, intimate light. The scent of their lovemaking filled the air, a heady mix of sweat and arousal that was intoxicating in its own right. Harry felt his eyelids grow heavy, and soon he was drifting off to sleep, the gentle rise and fall of Fleur's chest against his was a soothing lullaby.
In the quiet, he could feel her heartbeat, a steady drumming that matched his own, their bodies in perfect sync. As the last of the candles flickered out, the room was plunged into darkness, but it didn't matter. They were wrapped in each other's embrace, their connection unbroken by the absence of light.
--
The next morning, he woke to a familiar feeling, her warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock, gently sucking him back to life. Harry groaned, his eyes fluttering open to find Fleur hovering above him, her cheeky smile beaming in the soft early light.
"Bonjour, my love. I thought that would do something nice to wake you up, considering how amazing you were last night, Harry. Are you ready for another round of... 'tutoring'?" Fleur said, her voice thick with sleep, but her eyes dancing with mischief. Harry's eyes shot open, a jolt of pleasure coursing through him as he felt her soft, warm mouth working him back to full arousal.
"Mm, always ready for you, Fleur," Harry groaned, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep but his smile growing as he felt the blood rushing back to his cock. "But, first, would you mind...?" He trailed off, his voice a low rumble of need as he reached down to gently cup her chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. "Something I really like is having my balls sucked. Would you be a dear and give them some attention?"
Fleur's eyes lit up with excitement at his request, and she nodded eagerly before leaning back down to kiss the base of his shaft, her lips moving upwards in a slow, loving trail of kisses until she reached his heavy sack. "Ah, but of course," she spoke with desire. "I would be more than happy to, Harry." Her soft, velvety tongue began to lick and kiss his balls, her gentle suction causing Harry's body to spasm with pleasure. He felt his cock twitch in her mouth, eager for more as she took one of his testicles into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it with the finesse of a master chef savoring a fine wine. Her other hand played with his shaft, her fingers teasing the sensitive skin as she worked his balls in perfect harmony. "
"Mmhmm," she hummed against his skin, sending vibrations through his body that had him arching off the bed. "You taste delicious, Harry. So salty and sweet. Such a large and tasty cock, and two big and tasty balls."
--
It would not be for another week before Harry finally got enough actual ancient runes tutoring in to gain an understanding on how to string them together into a basic spell. At the pace he was going, maybe he would be able to put together a display of some sort in the next few years... After all, he was a man who had his priorities in line, and what could be more important than shagging the brains out of a beautiful French girl?
I don't really do shoutouts, but I'm gonna throw one here! If you like this story, go check out Hogwarts Handbook by Nyfrostium! Harry finds a reality altering book and uses it for all sorts of debauchry!