CHAPTER 35: DIAMONDS AND DECEIT

Harry gave Narcissa a small smile as she emerged from the Goblin's office, the one who managed the Malfoy account. Her expression was one of quiet satisfaction, the sort she wore when she'd handled things exactly as she intended.

"All done?" he asked, his voice low but carrying an undercurrent of amusement.

"All done," she replied, the faintest hint of pride in her tone. She adjusted the delicate strap of her purse over her shoulder before adding, "All the Malfoy fortune is now in my hands. They were very sympathetic to Lucius' passing. In fact, they were almost too eager to help. They promised to keep the news quiet until we decide to go public, for a fee, of course."

"Good old goblins," Harry muttered with a grin, knowing full well the creatures were always eager to capitalize on any situation.

Narcissa's lips twitched in a smile, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I made a small fund for Draco. Nothing too obvious, just enough to keep him from realizing he can't access his usual funds. He won't notice, not yet. We can keep him in the dark until the time is right to announce..." Her voice trailed off slightly, the weight of what she was implying hanging in the air.

Harry's brow furrowed slightly. "Until the time is right for me to claim you publicly, as my mistress?"

She gave a light shrug, unfazed. "Exactly." There was a playful edge to her tone, but it was clear that this was no mere game for her. Narcissa had long since decided that things between them would go beyond secrecy.

Harry nodded, considering her words. He was already weighing the repercussions of their actions—both the immediate ones and those that would come in time. Narcissa had made it clear what would happen with Draco. He remembered the night they'd talked about it. Her words had been blunt, but they had been laced with an undercurrent of deep concern, not for her son's future, but for Harry's safety.

"I don't want you thinking I care about him beyond wanting him alive," Narcissa had warned him, as they lay together in the dim light of their bed, their legs tangled under the sheets. "Lucius twisted his mind. He stopped speaking to me years ago, and even if I did care about him, I'd rather see him dead than have him turn into a threat to you. If it comes to that, you have my blessing to end him."

Harry had hesitated at the thought, but it had been her last words that had shaken him more than anything: "I can't bear the thought of you being hurt because I asked you to spare him." Her lips had found his in that moment, but when she'd pulled back to look at him, there had been a sadness in her eyes. That sadness had faded only after she'd insisted on another distraction—one that left him helpless to protest. She had her ways of reassuring him, he supposed.

"Good idea," he said now, giving her a soft look, though the memory still lingered at the back of his mind. "Hoods up," he added as he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding his identity. Narcissa followed suit, the pale strands of her hair disappearing under the fabric.

Together, they moved swiftly through the maze of Gringotts, stepping out into the bustling chaos of Diagon Alley. Harry's hand found hers as they weaved through the crowd. There were plenty of tourists around—mostly Americans, judging by their accents—taking photos in front of shop windows or excitedly whispering about their latest discoveries in the wizarding world.

Narcissa's nose wrinkled slightly as they passed a group of particularly loud tourists. "Americans," she muttered under her breath, the distaste clear in her tone.

Harry could only smile, his fingers playfully pinching her bottom as they passed, causing her to let out a squeal of surprise. "Behave," she said, though her voice was light, amused by his antics.

He grinned, not in the least bit sorry. "You know you love it."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, but her lips curled into an affectionate smile. "Lead the way, then. Where are we going?"

He didn't answer immediately, just pulled her along down a narrow side street off Diagon Alley. They passed under an archway and into Carkitt Market, a hidden gem in the wizarding world. The market was a favorite for tourists, known for its extravagant Victorian architecture—the kind that made you feel as though you were stepping into a bygone era, even if the shops were all modern. The overhead ironwork twisted and curved like a spider's web, and golden lamps flickered along the sides of the stalls, casting a soft glow that made the entire area seem warm and inviting, like stepping into a cozy indoor space despite the open sky above.

Harry could hear the distant murmur of tourists and the occasional click of cameras as they passed by.

Narcissa glanced at one of the tourists who was trying to take a picture of her. She turned her face away with a huff, her elegant nose lifted in silent distaste. "Americans," she muttered once again, this time more audibly.

Before she could continue, Harry's fingers pinched her bottom again, this time with more purpose, and her gasp of surprise echoed down the street. She spun around, narrowing her eyes at him, but there was no malice in her expression. Instead, a playful glint sparked in her eyes.

"You're impossible," she said, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Without another word, Harry led her into Madam Mertens, a small but well-known jewelry shop. Harry had a particular fondness for this place. He'd been here before, in another life—another time—when Tom Riddle had come to purchase a pendant, a heart-shaped thing laced with dark magic. Riddle had cursed it, a cruel gift for a poor old woman, one he'd intended to kill with the charm's horrific magic. Harry had never forgotten the story, a chilling reminder of how the darker aspects of the wizarding world could warp the innocent. But now, standing in the same shop, Harry couldn't help but think that the only thing he felt was a wry amusement at how far things had come since then. The thought of Riddle's cruelty felt distant, almost irrelevant, compared to the strange sense of power that came with the alliances he was now forming.

He slid his hand down Narcissa's back, coming to rest on her full, rounded bottom. The action was casual, but the possessiveness of it sent a thrill through him. He could almost hear Riddle's voice echoing in his head, that twisted, megalomaniacal tone. But Harry had long stopped caring about such things. After all, having shared his mind with a psychopath for so long, he was in no position to judge how far others would go to protect their own.

"How much for this one?" Harry asked, his hand still on Narcissa's body as he half-turned to the shopkeeper.

The old witch behind the counter gave them a once-over, her beady eyes narrowing as she realized who they were. But she only nodded slightly, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Ah, nothing like a true connoisseur of fine jewelry," she said, a touch of humor in her voice.

As the shopkeeper moved to fetch an item for them, Harry's fingers lingered on Narcissa, his thoughts swirling. For all the darkness in their world, for all the treachery that surrounded them, there was a strange comfort in this—this twisted little world they'd carved out for themselves.

And yet, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that the game was only just beginning.

"Greetings, my lord, my lady," Madam Mertens said smoothly, showing no sign of discomfort at their hooded appearances. Her voice was warm and welcoming, clearly unbothered by the presence of such distinguished clients.

"Greetings, Madam." Harry nodded, his tone polite but edged with a touch of arrogance that was often characteristic of the Malfoy legacy. "Forgive the hoods; it is not meant as a slight against you. We trust you are, of course, most discrete."

The old witch smiled, her sharp eyes assessing them for a moment before she gave a subtle nod. "Then no forgiveness is needed," she replied, her voice light, as though the idea of discretion was second nature to her. "How may I help you this fine afternoon?"

"I will require a beautiful diamond pendant for this beautiful lady," Harry said, his voice smooth as he looked at Narcissa, his hand lightly resting on her lower back.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. "My love?" she asked, taken aback by the lavish suggestion. She hadn't expected this level of expenditure.

Harry's lips curled into a smirk. "It will need the full works. Protection against charms, curses, and the like. As powerful as you can make it," he added, his eyes never leaving her. Although Harry was no expert on enchanting—Tom Riddle had never cared much for such things—he knew enough to demand quality, especially when it came to matters of personal protection.

"Of course, my Lord," Madam Mertens said with a respectful bow, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "I have just the piece for you. It's quite special—allow me to fetch it." She turned with the grace of someone who had long since mastered the art of catering to powerful clients, disappearing into the backroom.

As soon as the door closed, Narcissa turned to him, unable to hide the delight in her expression. "My Lord," she began softly, her voice a little teasing, "you really don't need to spend so much on me. You already hold my heart—and my soul."

Harry's smile twitched, amused by the way she played the perfect Pureblood lady. It wasn't the first time he'd seen this side of her, but he found it irresistible, especially when they were alone. In bed, it allowed him to play the part of the blue-collar rogue, the half-blooded rebel with no skill at romance—except for the one thing she found hard to resist.

"I would like you to wear it," he said in a low voice, a touch crass, "naked in my bed, so I can watch my cum drip from it onto your tits."

Narcissa's face flushed crimson with humiliation, the heat of his words seeping into her skin, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she stood frozen, eyes wide in surprise, and then narrowed slightly in something approaching desire. She was always a contradiction, so poised and proud in public, but in private, she let him see the darker side of her—the side that responded to him like no other.

He squeezed her ass gently, pulling her closer, and lowered his voice, speaking into her ear, soft but possessive. "Actually, I want my love to know how much I adore her, so she can look at it every day and know I'm thinking of her, wherever I am."

Her eyes softened, her gaze fixing on him with unspoken affection. Her fingers brushed along his jaw, tender but trembling slightly, and for a brief moment, Harry saw a raw emotion—something close to gratitude, or perhaps longing—pass through her eyes.

"And I also don't want you to feel left out," Harry added, his voice growing more serious, the words slipping from him with a calm but undeniable truth. "When I buy more pretty things... for my other pets. I want you to know you're special, that you're the one who truly matters."

Narcissa melted into him, her face nuzzling his neck, her breath coming in soft, shuddering sighs. "Diamonds are the only way to a girl's maidenhood," she quipped with a teasing smile, her words almost drowned in the warmth of their embrace. "But, truly, I can't wait to get you home, my love. I feel the need to show you how much I treasure you... each and every second."

Harry pulled her closer, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "If you're a good girl," he murmured, leaning in close to her ear, "we'll stop by Lucy Lilac's Shop of Intimate Luscious Little Things. I'm sure you'd like to show me your treasure there... in the dressing room."

Her smile widened, an unmistakable gleam of mischief dancing in her eyes. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want to blow you so bad, Master." Her voice was low, soft, and almost too innocent, considering the way her fingers subtly moved over him through his robes. "Do you want me to beg?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could respond, the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching interrupted their exchange. He cleared his throat loudly, momentarily flustered by her boldness, and Narcissa immediately withdrew her hand, her expression shifting back to a more composed, dignified appearance.

Madam Mertens appeared from the back with a small, velvet-lined box in her hands. She was smiling, a knowing glint in her eyes as she stepped forward. "Here it is, my Lord," she said, her voice warm and welcoming. "As requested, the finest enchanted diamond pendant. Protection spells, dark charm resistance, and quite a bit of history woven into it."

Harry nodded appreciatively, but his mind was still elsewhere, caught in the heady mix of desires, power, and expectations that always followed Narcissa wherever she went. And yet, despite the sharp edge of control he wielded over their world, he couldn't shake the feeling that the game was only just beginning.

The future was uncertain, fraught with danger, but Harry was no longer the boy who had once feared the unknown. Now, he was the one pulling the strings, and soon enough, they would all see just how far he was willing to go.

Madam Mertens appeared from the back, holding a velvet box in her hands. With a flourish, she opened it to reveal the diamond pendant. The light caught the stones, sending sparks of brilliance into the air. Narcissa's breath caught in her throat as she stepped closer, her eyes widening in admiration.

"It's perfect," Harry said, his voice steady but with a touch of satisfaction, as if he had already claimed it as his own.

Narcissa let out a soft gasp, her eyes fixed on the pendant. "I must admit, you have good taste," she said, her voice a little warmer than usual, as she reached for the box. Harry, however, stopped her with a light touch on her wrist.

"Not yet, my love. I think I'll take it," he said, his gaze fixed on the glimmering gem, already imagining it hanging around her neck.

Before Madam Mertens could respond, Narcissa stepped forward, a playful gleam in her eye. "My Lord will also have ten other items of your choosing," she added, her tone low and deliberate. "Rings, necklaces, bracelets, pendants. Diamonds aren't necessary. Perhaps some rubies, sapphires—anything that looks good and doesn't cost too much."

Madam Mertens blinked, her surprise barely masked, but she was a professional through and through. "Of course, my Lady," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "I shall gather a selection for you."

As the shopkeeper bustled off to fetch the additional items, Harry couldn't help but laugh under his breath. Narcissa turned to him, feigning mock offense.

"What?" she said, her lips curling into a smile despite herself. "Hogwarts sluts don't need diamonds. They'll part their legs at even the hint of good taste. They're too young to know better."

Harry's laughter bubbled up, and his eyes twinkled with mischievous delight. "I'll take another of those diamond pendants, too, if you have one," he called out loudly.

Narcissa's eyebrow arched in challenge, and her lips curved into a mock scowl. "Really, Harry? More jewelry?"

"It's for Helena," Harry said nonchalantly, his grin wide as he leaned toward her. "I want you both to have matching pendants, so when I cover you both in my load, I won't be able to tell you apart."

Narcissa swatted at his arm, her mock displeasure evident. "You're so bad to me," she muttered, though she couldn't entirely hide her smile.

Harry's expression softened as he took her in, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor slipping away for just a moment. "But you love it," he whispered, his voice tender yet commanding.

Narcissa simply rolled her eyes, but her eyes sparkled with affection. "Have you made any progress?" she asked, her voice shifting to a more serious tone.

Harry's expression grew hard again as he nodded. "I have. Karkaroff has invited me to see Durmstrang after I mentioned possibly moving Draco there. I'll go next week and see if I can find her, talk to her."

He watched her carefully, ensuring his orders were clear. "Don't let me down," he commanded, his voice carrying that hint of authority that never failed to make Narcissa's back straighten and her posture stiffen. She nodded sharply, the familiar look of obedience crossing her features.

Harry couldn't help but wonder about the bond between them. It seemed, at least with Narcissa, to make her more receptive to taking orders. It wasn't just power—it was something else, something deeper. He could feel it in the way she responded to him, even when she was outwardly so strong and independent. But how deep did it go? He needed to experiment, to see how far he could push the limits of the bond, especially when he had more girls to work with.

As Madam Mertens returned, carrying the additional selection of trinkets, Harry's thoughts drifted back to his growing collection. He imagined each of them adorning the girls he would bring into his harem. Soon, he would have so many, and then, he could truly begin testing the depths of the bond he had started to form. He could already picture it: Helena, Narcissa, and the others, each one beautifully adorned and obedient to his will.

As Madam Mertens set the items before him, Harry reached for a ring, turning it over in his fingers. He studied it carefully before looking up at the older woman with a satisfied smile.

"Excellent," Harry said, his voice cool. "You've done well."

"Thank you, my Lord," Madam Mertens replied, bowing her head slightly, clearly pleased with her service.

As Harry turned to leave, hand in hand with Narcissa, the weight of the future settled on him once more. There were still so many moves to make, so many pieces to position. But one thing was certain: he was no longer waiting for the world to decide his fate. He was the one writing the rules now.

As they stepped out of the jewelry shop, the cool breeze of Diagon Alley brushed against them, and Harry couldn't help but feel the satisfaction of their little transaction. The power that flowed through him, the control he had over those around him, was intoxicating. Narcissa walked beside him, her eyes still fixed on the sparkling pendant, clearly pleased by his gift.

"You know, you didn't need to buy all that," she murmured, her voice soft but laced with something deeper—something that was more than just affection.

"I wanted to," Harry replied, his hand finding hers as they walked, fingers laced together. "Besides, it's more than just for you. It's a statement. A mark of what we are, what we've become."

Narcissa's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "A mark, you say? What kind of mark do you think it will leave?"

"The kind that people remember," Harry said, his eyes glinting with a dark gleam. "I'm not just some boy anymore. I'm the one who decides who stays, who goes. Who gets what. People will have to come to me if they want to play in this game. And I don't play nice."

Her smile widened, and she squeezed his hand in return, her fingers tightening around his. "And what if they refuse? What if they try to cross you?"

Harry's expression hardened. "Then they'll regret it. But not before they serve a purpose. Everyone serves a purpose, Narcissa. Even if it's just to be a lesson for others."

She nodded, her eyes glinting with approval. "You're becoming more like your father every day."

Harry's smile was a rare one, cold but with a flicker of something almost tender. "I suppose that's true. But unlike him, I won't make the same mistakes." He paused for a moment, his grip on her hand tightening as he leaned closer. "I won't be the one they see as weak. I'll make them fear me, respect me... and most importantly, I'll make them desire my approval. Even if they have to beg for it."

Narcissa's voice dropped to a whisper. "And what will you do with all this power, Harry?"

Harry's gaze turned distant, as though he was already imagining the future. "What I've always wanted: control. Over everything. Over them. Over you." His eyes met hers, and there was no mistaking the intensity behind his words. "I want it all."

Her breath caught in her throat, a flicker of something darker passing through her gaze. She stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him fully, her eyes searching his. "Do you really think you can have it all?"

Harry's smile deepened, and he leaned in, his voice a low, almost sensual growl. "I don't just think it, Narcissa. I know it."

She studied him for a long moment, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of his jaw. "You're dangerous, Harry. Not just to your enemies. But to anyone who gets too close to you."

"I know," he replied simply. "But that's the way it has to be. To get what I want, to build the empire I'll rule, I can't afford weakness. And neither can you."

Narcissa smiled again, her lips parting slightly as she reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Then I suppose I'll have to follow you. Into whatever comes next."

Harry's eyes darkened with a hint of something predatory. "You're not the only one who has to follow. Everyone will follow. Even the ones who think they can outsmart me."

The walk back to their destination was quiet after that, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air between them. Harry knew what he wanted, what he was prepared to do. And he wasn't going to let anything—anyone—stand in his way..

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