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Emma Frost & Jean Grey Pt. 3

A/N: Just a reminder, new chapter here officially means new chapter over on the P atreon now, where my patrons are currently voting on the future direction of this story!

-x-X-x-

Sitting there, Harry feels… not quite at ease, but comfortable enough to relax again, at least a little bit. After everything that's happened so far, he doesn't feel bad about his initial reaction per say, but he does feel as if he can let his guard down somewhat. More than anything… the situation isn't as bad as he initially thought it was. And Emma is right. An environment with, heh, natural consequences, was exactly what Ms. Grey needed.

Nodding his head and waving his hand magnanimously, Harry gestures to the unconscious red head.

"Go ahead. I leave her training in your capable hands, Emma."

Smiling an icy smile that nevertheless holds a hint of gratitude to it, the blonde Astronomy Professor takes up her wand and points it at Jean, speaking clearly and concisely.

"Rennervate."

The counter to the Stunning Spell works perfectly of course, washing over Jean and making her come back alive with a gasp of inhaled air. Before she can so much as react, Emma is reaching over and grabbing the younger witch by her chin, forcing her to look her in her eyes.

"Eyes on me, Jean. Nowhere else. Focus on me. Get yourself under control. You were Stunned for daring to peer into Lord Potter-Black's thoughts without permission. He caught you and acted accordingly. Now you will control yourself, and refrain from abusing your gift any further this evening."

Emma pauses, as Jean's breathing quickens before leveling out.

"Am I understood?"

Jean shakily nods, biting back a whimper.

"Y-Yes, Mistress Frost."

Here, Emma scowls for half a beat, letting go of Jean's chin and sitting back in her chair in a way that makes her breasts, once more contained in her clothing, jiggle enticingly.

"What have I told you, Jean?"

Startling, Jean blushes and ducks her head.

"S-Sorry. Professor Frost…"

"Good girl."

With that, a quiet falls over the table for a moment. Jean's eyes flicker over to his for a brief moment, but Harry is looking for it, ready for it. He doesn't feel her strange form of natural Legilimency bypassing his defenses and ransacking his mind. She really is reining it in and controlling herself, which is… good.

Of course, from the red-hot blush across her face, damn near the color of her own hair, it's obvious she caught some of Emma's thoughts before she managed to slam down on her own Legilimency. Some recent… memories, perhaps? Of titfucking his cock, and wearing his hot, sticky seed all over her face and chest?

Harry can't help but be a little amused, as Jean averts her eyes hastily, looking down at the table and nowhere else. In the end, Emma lets out a low sigh.

"We really must work on your social skills, Jean. You shouldn't require the use of your gift to communicate with other people without completely losing your confidence. Unfortunately, I recognize that Sebastian encouraged the abuse of your gift all your life and left you as you are today. But as we well know, his… advice is tainted. As a matter of fact, Sebastian is what Lord Potter-Black and I spoke of, while you were out."

Jean's head leaps up at that, her eyes focusing on Emma.

"M-Master Shaw?"

There's a very real fear to the red-head's tone then. The natural Legilimens is scared of Sebastian Shaw. VERY scared of him. But then, to be fair, from what Emma had told him, this man was apparently another Dark Lord, just like Voldemort. And given how much fear Lord Voldemort had struck into the hearts of the Wizarding World, even long after his supposed first death… yeah, it made sense.

"He does not deserve a title of respect from you, Jean. He is not your Master anymore. You are no longer his servant. But… yes. I was explaining to Harry why exactly we fled from America and came here, to Hogwarts, in the first place. The better for him to potentially help us, you see."

Jean once again sneaks a glance over at him, a tentative, hesitant smile on her lips. She's a nervous young thing, especially when she's not able to read his mind, it would seem. Harry decides on an encouraging smile back, giving her a nod. But even that much acknowledgment is too much for the young Legilimens.

"Jean… if you will, please tell Harry about your experiences with Shaw. I think hearing what happened from your perspective will help him come to a decision much easier."

"A-Alright. Um… Mas-er, Sebastian… he took an interest in me very early on. I thought he l-loved me, as a f-father, though in hindsight, the fact that he always stayed out of my range growing up makes it obvious how w-wary he was of me…"

Jean pauses for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as she collects her thoughts. Then…

"Eventually, I was supposed to have my gift under control. And so, he started spending more time with me, started coming closer to me. And I… I ate it all up. But then he started talking about my future, about our future. He started talking about what sort of… of c-children, I would have…"

As Jean speaks, still staring at the table, Harry glances over to see Emma's reaction. The icy blonde's eyes are flinty, and her lips pursed into a thin line. When he makes eye contact with her, she sharply nods, as if to confirm what Jean is saying.

"He couched it in such pretty terms, but… I didn't want to live in a cage all my life. I saw enough of the outside world to be curious. And when I brought it up, he d-didn't like it. That's when I… that's when I hatched my plan."

Harry cocked his head to the side, somewhat able to see where this was going. But if HE, with his Occlumency shields, could detect Jean's natural Legilimency, then how…

"I snuck into Sebastian's room while he was sleeping and used my gift on him. I saw everything, including his decision to have my parents, my real parents, killed. And I saw… I saw his plans for me."

Here, Jean begins to shake, hugging herself and shivering. Harry half-expects Emma to move over and hug the girl, but… well, the blonde is clearly not altogether the touchy feely type. She does reach over and place a hand on Jean's shoulder however, and that seems to do the trick, comforting the red head enough that the tension and shaking actually begins to relax. Jean shoots Emma a grateful smile before finally looking at Harry with some small measure of confidence.

He's beginning to suspect that Emma didn't just touch Jean, but also spoke to her mentally, bolstering the younger witch's mind with whatever words of wisdom she had for her.

"But, even as horrified as I was… I did notice that P-Professor Frost wasn't in any of his memories. She wasn't involved in his… plans. I realized… he planned to get rid of her, specifically so she couldn't stop him from doing whatever he wanted with me."

Glancing to Emma with an adoring smile that makes the frigid woman squirm in discomfort, Jean sighs.

"So I went to her for help. And together, we escaped from Sebastian and the Hellfire Club and came here, to Hogwarts. B-But… I know what I saw in his mind. I know the Black King will never let me go. I cannot truly live, while he still hounds me."

Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.

It's not precisely the language of the prophecy Harry had found himself saddled with, but it's close enough to very nearly make him flinch. Her words, combined with her heartfelt tone… Harry lets out a sigh, and slowly nods.

"What would you have me do?"

Both Jean and Emma seem somewhat surprised by his sudden acquiescence. They clearly didn't know him very well, beyond his track record against Dark Lords. Because… really, was there ever any question he was going to help them out? Sure, he had his own problems, but from the sound of things, said problems might not be entirely unconnected. Was it possible that Zatanna and Raven were chased out of America by this Sebastian Shaw's stooges, perhaps?

Regardless, Harry looks between Jean and Emma, only for Emma to clear her throat and speak up.

"It's not as if we expect you to go to America and take the fight to Shaw, or anything like that. That would be ridiculous. But… we did come to Hogwarts out of the belief that we would potentially be safe here, under the aegis of protection provided by your presence. If that is not the case, if you will not defend the inhabitants of this school, namely us, from any that might come seeking us… then say so now, so I might begin making plans for our departure."

Emma sits straight-backed and altogether poised by the time she's done speaking, and somewhat amusingly, Jean is subconsciously doing the same. Both of them are watching him carefully, and once again Harry has to check to make sure Jean hasn't slipped up and started reading his mind again, given how intensely she's staring at him. But no, he senses nothing of her presence.

"… I will do everything in my power to protect the people of Hogwarts, for as long as I walk these halls. That, you can count on. You have my word."

Both witches slump in relief, their shoulders falling. Jean even lets out a happy little sigh, before looking a little worried and speaking up all of the sudden.

"A-And what do you require of us in return for your protection, my Lord?"

Emma's gives the younger witch a sharp glance at that, but before she can rebuke Jean for her question, Harry just smiles and shakes his head, now confident that the red haired natural Legilimens had seen something of what Emma and he did together while she was unconscious from her mentor's mind.

"Nothing. My protection comes with no strings attached. It is freely given. So long as you two do not betray my trust or seek to harm me or mine in anyway, we will have no problems."

He considers utilizing this information they've given him to pull them both into his own sordid schemes. That was the point of all this from his end, was it not? But unlike Zatanna and Raven, it doesn't feel like he's actually doing anything for Emma or Jean. Not yet, at least. He'll have to keep an eye on things, but whereas Zatanna and Raven needed his direct help, Emma and Jean are just using him as a sort of stopgap measure against those hunting for them.

And how long will that last, really? Sure, he dealt with Lord Voldemort… but all things considered, Harry has to wonder how much 'street cred' that really gives him in the greater world at large. In Britain's Wizarding World he might be the Man Who Won, but outside of the United Kingdom, who was to say he was anyone special?

Well, the Lodge of Sorceresses, apparently. And even Emma and Jean's choice to come here to Hogwarts said as much. Still, Harry didn't expect this 'Black King' to stay away forever, solely on the strength of his reputation. Eventually, Sebastian Shaw would strike, and Harry would have to be ready. To that end…

"There is one thing."

Both Emma and Jean tense up, but whatever they're expecting him to ask of him, it's not what he actually asks.

"I would appreciate it if you both kept your eyes and ears open for me. I am not asking you to go around reading minds, to be clear. There are plenty of individuals in this castle who are just as good if not better at Occlumency then I am, and you do not want to run afoul of them. At the same time, I know that not everyone in Hogwarts has my best interests at heart. If you can keep me appraised of anything you might hear or see that pertains to me, I would consider us more than even."

His explanation puts them both at ease once more. They seem surprised that he's asking for so little, but to Harry it only seems fair. After all, he's not out to bend them both over a barrel or anything like that. The start of this encounter might have gone poorly to say the least, and yes, he'd extracted some satisfaction from Professor Frost to assuage his wounded ego, but now… now it was all water under the bridge. And he wasn't the sort of man to abuse the power and influence he had over anyone, not if he could help it.

Receiving noises of agreement from both American witches, the rest of their meal goes pleasantly enough. In the end, Harry retires to his chambers for the night and gets a good night sleep. He might not have gained actual allies from the conversation with Emma and Jean, but it was better than nothing, he supposed.

-x-X-x-

Of course, the next night, before he can even begin deciding who exactly to approach next in what way, there's a knock on the door to his chambers, and when Harry opens it up, he finds Jean Grey standing on the other side. The red head has a look on her face that Harry is rapidly becoming familiar with, and after making sure she's not in his head, he wordlessly lets her in.

When she takes him by the hand and guides him over to the bed, he allows her to do so. When she sits him down and then gracefully descends to her knees between his legs, he still doesn't speak. He's not about to stop her, he finds. Not from making her own choices. Glancing between his face and his crotch, Jean blushes, bites her lower lip, and reaches out to fiddle with his pants, hesitantly getting them open and extracting his member from its confines.

She wraps both hands around his shaft, seeming unsurprised by the sight of it. But then, if she had in fact seen Emma's point of view of their… engagement with one another, she wouldn't be surprised, now, would she?

Licking her lips, Jean fidgets and squirms in the silence Harry is providing. Then, finally, she looks up at him.

"I-If it pleases you, my Lord… I would request permission to access only the surface level of your thoughts. If you allow me a light probe, I can make this experience MUCH more pleasurable for you, by feeding off of your enjoyment of what I'm doing. I'll… know exactly what you like and be able to make everything feel a lot better."

Hm, a compelling argument to be sure. Though it seemed she'd come to the conclusion that she didn't even need to ask if they were doing this first. But then, to be fair, he'd given her every indication that he wasn't going to send her away. And… he wasn't, if Harry was being honest with himself. Which just left him with the decision of whether to let Jean into his head to make the experience more pleasurable, or whether he would rebuke her, and force her to fumble around in the dark like every other woman who had come to him before her.

-x-X-x-

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