Champions

Chapter 16. Champions

The Great Hall is noisier than usual, and understandably so. Because of the deception by the French, it was just announced that the Triwizard Championship has turned into a team competition. This means there's still a spot for one more champion from both Hogwarts and Durmstrang. The seventh-years, who were disappointed last night, are now overflowing with enthusiasm and hope, crowding before the goblet of fire to re-enter their names.

Katie and Leanne are also there, standing in line, aiming to be selected as Rose's partner and becoming the second Hogwarts champion.

I stare at the goblet from my seat at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the general chatter, my chin propped on my steepled fingers.

I wonder if I should submit my name.

I'm instantly met with a resounding no. First, I'm not seventeen yet, so I would need to trick my way into the tournament, which would invite wrath from both the students and the professors—not to mention penalties and punishment. Secondly, it would stain my clean reputation. I've been an ideal student since the moment I stepped into the castle: the perfect rule-abiding student, never suffering a single detention. I'm unsure if sacrificing this to earn temporary glory and fame is a good deal.

But I'm not planning to return for my seventh year, am I? So does my spotless reputation really matter at this point? I don't want to be a head boy anymore, nor do I want a good job in the Ministry. And I can survive a few detentions.

"How long are you planning to stay here?" Hermione nudges my side, interrupting my train of thought. "Let's go."

"Just a little longer."

Even though breakfast is over, everyone is still in the Great Hall, observing the exuberant seventh-years, watching the goblet's blue flames. The professors have yet to leave either.

I notice something interesting; only Hogwarts students are surrounding the goblet. There isn't a single Durmstrang student rushing to participate. This must be due to Kiril Marinov's influence. If I'm correct, then his partner's spot is already decided. He will be the one getting most benefits from this new arrangement, not Beauxbatons.

My eyes seek her: Thyra Helvig, the swordswoman, the fifth strongest member of The Starweaver Order. Yes, that's her guild's name. I looked it up last night after my confrontation with her. Hers is apparently quite important and has significant influence over the governments in a few European countries. Officially, they provide extra firepower to auror forces and take contracts for any legal tasks. Unofficially… who knows. I wouldn't be surprised if they also do assassinations and whatnot. After all, for mercenaries, money often matters more than legality or morality.

She is in a deep conversation with Kiril, and judging by her mildly annoyed expression, it's clear she's about to do something she doesn't want to. Sure enough, she rises to her feet and strolls toward the goblet, stifling a yawn, her long ponytail swishing with every step.

I grimace, having expected that. There goes my sister's meagre chance of winning. If Teresa Clare wasn't enough, now she has to compete with Thyra too.

The Great Hall quietens as she reaches the goblet, one hand on the pommel of her sword, her gait confident as usual.

The seventh-years part like sea before her, breaking the queue and allowing her to forge ahead.

Without any fanfare, she drops her name into the goblet and turns around, walking away. Kiril joins her as she leaves the Great Hall.

The tense silence breaks, and the noise returns, louder than before. It's not only me who knows she is a powerhouse—a lion among sheep. Well, 'knows' might be the wrong word, but everyone can feel her intense, unmatched presence. Even though Thyra is a seventeen-year-old Durmstrang student, matching her against Rose and the others isn't fair.

I guess I have to level the playing field. Time for hesitation and contemplation is gone.

"Harry?" Hermione calls me, but I'm already walking towards the goblet. Why have I been pretending to be ordinary? Why have I been trying to blend in and become just another face in the crowd when that's the polar opposite of what I want? Why am I hiding? Is it because of my previous experience with the [God of Small Things] perk? Is it fear and apprehension?

Maybe my mum's warning about the risks to her and my sisters has really put a damper on my ambitions. Her concerns about their safety have made me second-guess everything. Plus, my habit of being secretive might be turning into a bit of a problem.

But this time will be different. People won't know me for having the ability to grant wishes. While it will indeed shine a spotlight on me, it won't bring danger to my family—well, not as much as last time. And even if it does, I'm strong enough to protect them. They will not be harmed. I shouldn't let what-ifs stop me from attaining my goals. I already have power and wealth. Now all I need is fame and recognition. Then I'll become a renowned figure whose name is brought up in every conversation. I'll require a formidable reputation for that. And it's not like I would need to bare my secrets either. I won't have to use my gamer system to compete in the tournament. Not at all. Magic will be more than enough.

I feel the stares of my fellow students and the professors. Mum frowns, gripping the edge of the table, her green eyes flashing with a knowing look. And Dumbledore's gaze is curious as he watches me from above.

Just like they did for Thyra, the seventh-years move away to make way for me.

I ignore Katie and Leanne's bewildered expressions and draw my wand. I twirl it, and a rune circle appears on the floor—encircling the pedestal that holds the goblet, outside the headmaster's age line.

My heart pounds so loudly that I can barely hear anything over the white noise.

Am I really doing this? Am I really destroying my clean record? Am I truly breaking a rule so brazenly?

…Yes.

The age line vanishes, and I step forward, tossing a piece of parchment into the flame.

And then chaos erupts. Professors rush down from the head table, and underage students sprint towards me to seize this rare chance and submit their own names.

I simply step aside and let them do it. Not that it will make a difference. No one here is more worthy than me.

I will be chosen as the second Hogwarts champion tonight.

~xXxXx~

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offers, leaning back in his throne-like chair, appearing completely at ease. The other professors—including mum—are seated around the claw-footed desk, tense as drawn bowstrings, while I stand before them like a convict before a jury.

I'm in the headmaster's office, my head bowed.

"No, thanks."

Following the chaos I caused, Dumbledore used his magic to push the students away from the goblet and drew a new age line. But by then, the damage was done. A couple of underage students had already entered their names.

Prefects were ordered to lead their houses back to the common rooms, and I was brought here to be questioned and punished.

"We can't let this go, Headmaster. Mr. Evans disrespected you and the school in front of everyone. We were made to look like fools before the foreign delegates. I don't even know how he managed it, but he must be punished severely, or we'll set a bad precedent." Professor Brown alternates between giving Dumbledore imploring looks and glaring at me.

Professor McGonagall sighs and peers at me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Mr. Evans, I must ask—why did you do this? You are not known for causing trouble, and I am certain there must be a reason behind your actions. Explain yourself."

Mum remains silent, but I can feel her unconditional support.

Aside from Professor Brown, everyone else here seems sympathetic, waiting for an explanation.

I think truth will be more effective than any well-crafted lie. I need to make them understand my perspective.

"I wasn't planning on entering my name. In fact, I hadn't even considered it until today. But when I saw Thyra Helvig doing it, I realised I couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer," I say, keeping my tone soft and apologetic. "Thyra is a certified guild member, one of the strongest witches in that guild, if the rumours are true. And no offence to my sister's abilities, but she can't compete with someone like that. If I hadn't stepped in, Rose and Hogwarts would've lost any chance at winning. I can make a difference where others cannot. By partnering with my sister, I will prevent the school from losing."

…

…

"Such arrogance," Professor Brown groans, facepalming. "Are you really so deluded to think you're better than everyone else? Do you honestly believe you'll be selected tonight? I'm beginning to doubt my judgement in considering you a smart student, because all I see before me now is a foolish, arrogant child with delusions of grandeur."

I keep my head bowed, hiding my anger.

"Enough, Archie," Mum snaps in my defence. "While he is certainly in the wrong, don't forget that he managed to bypass Headmaster's age line. Can you think of any other student capable of that?"

"Bah! Finding a spell to neutralise the age line is hardly impressive. I'm sure there are dozens of books in the library containing similar spells, for anyone obsessed enough to look."

Before the argument can continue, Dumbledore raises his hand, and the two professors fall silent. "Ah, but Archie, this was no ordinary magic. It was Liebe's Circle, the anti-magic spell. It is said to nullify any ward, but only if one possesses a considerable reservoir of magical power. There's a reason it's not more commonly employed—it demands such a vast amount of energy that it often becomes impractical. Yet, young Harry managed it with remarkable ease. I would say he is nearly as strong as you, if not more so when it comes to raw power. I am confident he will indeed be selected as the second champion."

"Impossible!"

"Mr. Evans has consistently ranked among the top students. It is no surprise that he is exceptional," Professor McGonagall says proudly.

Dumbledore chuckles. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I feel quite relieved. With Harry entering the tournament, I dare say Hogwarts stands a much better chance now."

"While I too am pleased, we cannot allow him to escape without some form of punishment," Professor McGonagall interjects, her eyes glinting. "Perhaps a year's worth of detentions with Lily would serve as a fitting consequence. That should teach him a lesson."

"An excellent suggestion. You will serve detentions with Professor Evans for the year. I'll leave the specifics—what, when, and where—up to her. Now, Lily, please escort him out. I'll need to have a word with Madame Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff."

I cannot hide my shock as I trail behind my mum. That went better than I had expected. I guess even they want us to win, which is understandable. But I did not expect them to be so… open about it.

"My room. Now."

Looks like mum is pissed.

She remains silent throughout the way, giving me one-word answers whenever I try to start a conversation. Getting the hint, I give up and walk quietly, hoping she won't give me too big of a lecture when we reach there.

Passing through her empty classroom, we enter her private quarters through the door in the corner.

There, we are met with a surprise.

Iris and Rose are already seated on one of the sofas in the lounge, waiting for us.

I guess they realised mum was going to drag me to her room after that foolhardy stunt.

"You're dumb." The grouchy one deadpans, her crimson hair down this morning, which makes her look slightly older and even more attractive. "You could have waited until everyone was gone before entering your name. Then you could have acted clueless and blamed Beauxbatons for tampering with the goblet. But no, you had to cheat in front of everyone. Very smart."

Rose snorts, giving me a look I can't quite read. "Why'd you do it, Harry? I thought you promised to help me win the tournament. But here you are, entering yourself."

Sighing, I plop down on the sofa opposite them, mum taking the seat beside me. "It was for you."

She blinks before her lips curve into a humourless smile. "No need to lie, little brother. It's just us. You can tell the truth."

I let it go since she has a reason to be annoyed.

"I'm not lying. Thyra is monstrously strong, and you know that. You wouldn't have won, no matter what. Since you've staked your future on this tournament and it could boost your chances of becoming a professional Quidditch player, I decided to become your partner to support you better. I promised you that you'd win. I'm just keeping my word."

She stares at me, and her face softens. "Really?"

"Well, I also wanted to become a champion. Now that there can be two champions, I figured, why not?"

She rolls her eyes, finally relaxing, the back of her head sinking into the cushioned headrest. "Now that I can believe. You're not doing this just for me but for your own advantage, too."

"I wouldn't have risked my reputation if I hadn't promised to make you win. So, actually, no, I am doing this for you. Me being a champion is an added bonus."

"Thanks, I guess." She smiles, her eyes brimming with fondness and a hint of playfulness. "Who knew you had a heart, my sweet little brother?"

I shoot a stinging hex at her, not letting it go this time.

She yelps and jumps off the sofa, landing awkwardly on her arse. "Can you not be violent for one second? Don't ruin the moment, nerd!"

"I dare you to repeat that. You'd better appreciate my sacrifice and quit with the 'little brother' nonsense."

She growls, unsheathing her wand and rising to her feet. "Oh, I'll appreciate it thoroughly. Come here."

"Enough," Mum says firmly, breaking up our impending quarrel. Since she's still wearing her magical glasses, which give her an intimidating aura, Rose flinches and is properly cowed.

Iris shivers and makes a face. "Please take off those glasses."

"Right. Sorry, love." She removes them and places them on the table between the two sofas, then looks at Rose with raised eyebrows, who mutters and retakes her seat.

Once we're all settled, mum turns to face me with a small glare. "Now, Harry, do you have anything to say to me?"

Her long crimson hair is scraped into a tight bun, her pink lips pressed into a thin line, and her eyes reflect concern rather than anger. Her slender neck flows gracefully into her buxom, hourglass figure. Though her robe is loose and flowy to avoid sexualisation, I've seen her curves enough times to imagine them beneath the fabric.

She's insanely hot, I realise for the millionth time. A true S-tier beauty.

"Did I tell you how gorgeous you look today? Because, wow."

She seems taken aback by the sudden compliment, her eyes widening slightly as her mouth twitches at the corners. Her shoulders drop, and she lets out a sigh. At once, even the remnants of her anger melts away, replaced by an affectionate smile. Her gaze, which was once stern, is now warm with a hint of amusement.

"He always does that!" Rose butts in, throwing up her hands in frustration. "You can't keep falling for this trick. Yell at him. Scream his head off."

"For once, I agree with the dumb cow," Iris mutters, looking thoroughly exasperated.

Ignoring their complaints, mum scoots closer, so our thighs press together. She places her palms on my shoulders, trying to look strict but failing miserably. "Entering your name in the goblet was foolish. Be glad the professors weren't angrier. You could have faced severe consequences. This is so out of character for you. I never expected you to jump into trouble. But now that I know your reasons, I can't say I don't understand."

"I'm sorry. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, or else I would have discussed it with you."

"It's alright, love." She pulls me into her arms, and I bury my face in her neck, savouring her scent and warmth. Her voluptuous rack squishes lightly against me, and it takes considerable effort not to tighten my hold around her back and tug her even closer. "Just try not to break any more rules so recklessly."

I chuckle and pull away, glancing at Rose. "Actually, I think I handled it the right way. What's the general reaction in the Gryffindor common room?"

Rose twirls her braid, her gaze thoughtful. "There are definitely people who are angry and bitter now, realising you're going to be the new champion—especially after you broke Dumbledore's age line. But the majority are impressed by your bold move. It was very Gryffindor-like, after all. You'll have the full support of the house. Though I doubt the other three houses will feel the same way."

The other three houses will come around when they see my performance.

"That's what I was going for. Instead of sneaking in quietly, which would've turned everyone against me, I chose to confront the age line head-on, brashly rather than slyly. And it makes all the difference. I wasn't being dumb, Iris." I face my other sister. "You'll see soon enough that there won't be many who'll be against me."

Iris looks sceptical but remains silent.

"Now, about your detentions, I won't make you scrub cauldrons. We will do something productive instead," Mum begins, drawing my attention. "You'll meet me every Tuesday night at ten. Just because you're participating in the tournament doesn't mean you're allowed to slack off on your studies. I'll be testing you during these sessions, so make sure to keep up with your classes. And don't skip all of them just because you can. Be responsible."

Right. The champions will technically be allowed to skip classes when they need time for the tournament. However, we still have to take the year-end exams. I don't see why any of the champions would skip classes entirely.

"Of course, who do you think I am? Rose?" I quip, getting a stinky-eye from the brat and a snicker from Iris.

"Actually, Rose, you will join Harry too in these sessions. It's your NEWTs year. You need it more than him."

"What? No! What am I getting detention for?"

Mum's voice gains a sharp edge. "It's for your benefit."

…

"Fine."

~xXxXx~

This feels like déjà vu. Just like yesterday, Dumbledore has dimmed the lighting, so the Great Hall is bathed in a strange blend of light and shadows. The flickering torches cast long, eerie shadows across the stone walls, and the enchanted ceiling above mirrors a twilight sky, adding to the ethereal atmosphere.

He looms before the goblet, its blue flames illuminating his wrinkled face.

Unlike last night, people aren't on the edge of their seats, nor are they holding their breath. While they are curious, they aren't filled with the same anxious anticipation. They already know who is going to be selected.

"The champion for Durmstrang is..." The blue flames turn red, and the goblet spits out a parchment, which Dumbledore catches deftly. "Thyra Helvig."

The hall fills with polite applause.

"Durmstrang champions, please make your way to the antechamber."

Thyra and Kiril stand and proceed, both dressed immaculately. Kiril is clad in three layers of fine, expensive fabric. And Thyra wears a full-sleeved white shirt beneath a gleaming chestplate and backplate, complemented by dark-brown leather trousers and sturdy, polished boots.

Once they are gone, Dumbledore looks towards the Ravenclaw table. "Beauxbatons champions, please follow them."

Teresa Clare and Gabrielle Delacour leave their seats, walking towards the previously mentioned chamber.

Only the Beauxbatons students clap this time; everyone else simply glares at them. Teresa appears unfazed, sporting the same outfit as yesterday: a white bodysuit that clings to her slender frame like a second skin, covering everything while accentuating her curves in a way that leaves little to the imagination.

Gabrielle, on the other hand, looks slightly intimidated by the negative reception, though she keeps her chin up and doesn't falter.

I'm not the only one discreetly ogling her perfect, swaying behind as she walks away, her electric blue dress tailored to pop off her magnificent derrière.

"Now, the moment we've all been waiting for is here." Dumbledore raises his voice, trying to meet everyone's expectant gazes.

The fire in the goblet turns red once again, and a name is flung out.

Dumbledore snatches it from the air and looks at it through his half-moon glasses. Everyone has gone silent, knowing it's me who's going to be selected, yet unable to resist getting caught in the suspense.

"The champion for Hogwarts is… Harry Evans!"

The Gryffindor table erupts in cheers that reverberate throughout the Great Hall, while the other three houses join in with polite, if somewhat lukewarm, applause.

I smile, letting my jubilant housemates pat my back and ruffle my hair.

"Hogwarts champions, please make your way to the antechamber."

Sliding off the bench, I extend my hand to Rose, who is dressed in her usual combination of a baggy t-shirt and denim jeans. She clasps it as we walk away, the clapping and cheering fading with each step. When we reach the antechamber, followed by the professors and ministry officials, the door closes behind us, cutting off the noise completely.

Rose and I move to stand with the other champions while the adults discuss something important amongst themselves.

I can't help but smirk when I notice Kiril's glare. I give him a mock bow, which only seems to enrage him further.

"Behave," Rose mutters from beside me.

Ignoring her, I glance at Thyra's stone-faced expression. She gives a stiff nod and looks away, staring at something outside the window.

She's terrified of me, isn't she? She can't even hold my gaze. That's quite flattering.

Turning to the final two champions, I lock eyes with a pair of nervous sapphire ones.

"'Ello, I am Gabrielle Delacour. Nice to meet you." The Veela smiles timidly, closing the small distance between us and offering her hand.

I take it in mine and brush my lips lightly against her knuckles. "Charmed. I'm Harry Evans, and this is my sister, Rose Evans."

"'Ello," Gabrielle says, a touch of pink colouring her cheeks as she retrieves her hand and shakes Rose's next. "I look forward to playing wiz you."

Rose smiles dryly. "I look forward to competing with you too."

Before we can talk more, Dumbledore clears his throat to get our attention. He then gives us an overview of the benefits and duties of being a champion.

I'm pleasantly surprised to learn that we have the option for separate personal quarters. This opens up so many new opportunities. I'd be a fool not to take advantage of it.

Of course, it's just an option, not a requirement. The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons champions decline, choosing to stay where they are.

We, on the other hand, gladly accept.

After that, the ministry official, Barty Crouch, tells us about the first task. He doesn't reveal much, only that it will take place on the 24th of November and that we won't be notified of what it will involve to test our courage. A surprise task—how thrilling.

Once everything is explained, Professor McGonagall leads us to our new quarters.

They are situated not far from the main chamber that houses the grand staircase.

~xXxXx~

"This is nice," Rose says as she flops down on the settee in the common area.

Our new quarters are quite cosy, with a small lounge and two bedrooms. While it can't be called luxurious, it does offer something we lacked in Gryffindor Tower: privacy.

I sit down beside her, tilting to the side and resting against the armrest. "Right? Now imagine if you had to share this with some boy."

"Ugh." She scrunches her nose, mirroring my position as she props herself up against the other armrest, so we're facing each other. She throws her legs over mine, stretching them out. "I'm starting to come around to the idea of you being my partner."

I rest my hands on her succulent thighs, giving them a suggestive squeeze, wishing she weren't wearing these thick denim jeans. "One can wonder what we could do with all this privacy."

"One should stop wondering that while groping my thighs." She rolls her eyes but doesn't move her legs from my lap.

"Are you still pretending we didn't make out that night? That you didn't go topless in front of me? That you didn't let me fondle your bare tits? That you didn't grind against me until we both came, panting and heaving?" With each question, I push my hands further up, sliding them over her thighs, inching closer to her core, until she slaps my hands away and pulls her legs from my lap. She sits up, her cheeks bright red with embarrassment.

"That was a one-time thing—a reward for you being so sweet and caring, for trying to protect me from the stalker. Don't keep bringing it up. I'm not sleeping with you. We're not doing anything sexual ever again," she says tersely, shooting me an annoyed look.

I hum noncommittally. "How about a kiss? Don't I deserve a little reward for jumping into this dangerous tournament for you? Just give me permission to snog you whenever I want. That's all I ask."

She opens her mouth, likely ready to say something sharp, but then closes it. Shaking her head, she groans before glowering at me, though her flushed cheeks and the softness in her eyes ruin her stern expression. "Fine. But you're not allowed to touch my chest or butt. The moment I feel you getting handsy, I'll revoke this privilege."

"Deal." I sit up straight, patting my lap.

Biting her lip, she stands up and promptly drops into my lap, straddling me.

I stifle a moan as her heavenly rear presses firmly against my crotch. Her breasts brush against my chest, and her crimson braid falls between us, the sweet scent of her shampoo teasing my nostrils. My body eagerly absorbs her warmth and softness. I breathe in her intoxicating scent, feeling a rush of pleasure in my groin. I tuck her braid behind her shoulder and cup her face. I know I've said it many times, but she is incredibly attractive, having inherited mum's superior genes.

"You're such a pervert," she says, noticing my erection beneath her.

I shudder as her hot breath washes over my lips. "It takes one to know one."

Then her mouth is mashing against mine, hungry and insistent. As promised, I don't grab at her curves and instead hold her face as our kiss deepens. Her velvety lips presses and slides over mine, drawing a moan out of me as she tugs on my messy hair.

I clasp her face and snog her as hard as I can. Soon, tongues and teeth clash, as we trade salivas, as we try to test the limits of our passion.

Our battle ends eventually, both losing yet winning, leaving us breathless and exhilarated.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she gulps in air. Her lips are wet and bruised, and her eyes gleam with desire. I'm almost sure we're about to take things further when a sharp wave of rationality cuts through her lust.

"You're going to be the death of me," she groans, slipping from my lap with clear reluctance. "If you've had your fill of kissing, let's head back to the common room. There's a party to attend, and we also need to inform our roommates about our new accommodations."

"Just to be clear, you've agreed to let me kiss you whenever I want, right?"

"Unless you try to snog me in front of others, yes." She plays with her braid, avoiding eye contact. "So, when we're alone, I suppose."

"I love you so much," I chuckle, standing up.

"I'd be offended if you didn't, especially after all this. Now, come on. I need to console Katie, and Leanne too, if she's managed to sneak into the common room already."

I wince at that. Right, I've stolen their chance to become champions. Not that it was guaranteed they'd have been chosen. Oh well, they'll manage.

~xXxXx~

The party is in full swing as we enter.

Loud rock music blares, firewhiskey and butterbeer flow like rivers, and inebriated couples make out as if there's no tomorrow.

We receive a hero's welcome—back pats, head pats, hugs, and all sorts of affectionate gestures. I do, however, give Gerald a sharp kick when he tries to take advantage of the excited crowd to cop a feel of Rose's bum. His innocent grin is met with my unamused expression, and he wisely retreats to his group of friends.

"What was that?" Rose asks as I shoo the crowd away and grab her elbow, guiding her towards Katie and Leanne.

"Nothing. Just some horny drunk teenagers."

Before she can inquire further, Katie and Leanne, already drunk, drag her away, giggling and sobbing about not being selected as her partner.

Feeling both merciful and sympathetic, I decide not to dock points from Leanne for breaking into our common room again. Plus, it would be massively hypocritical, considering what I did earlier that morning.

Assuming Iris has already retired to her dorm, I make my way over to Hermione, who has managed to find a corner to study even in this chaos. I'm not sure whether to be impressed or concerned.

Before I can reach her, two beautiful distractions step into my path.

Parvati and Lavender, both holding half-empty glasses of firewhiskey, snicker as they block my way.

"Hullo, champion." Lavender smirks, taking a large sip of her drink and wiping her pouty lips with the back of her hand. "How long are you going to make me wait? When will you take me?"

"Take you?" I reply, eyeing her body.

She is wearing a pink blouse with the first three buttons undone, exposing the upper swells of her gigantic breasts. And her cotton shorts make her look quite appealing right now. Not to mention the way her curly blonde hair falls like a curtain around her pretty face. Consider me already seduced. I can take you right now.

"Take your mind out of the gutter, Evans!" Parvati smacks my chest, giggling. "Lavender isn't that easy. Take her on a date first."

I don't complain as Parvati leaves her palm on my chest, slowly caressing me.

"Yes!" Lavender exclaims, grabbing my hand and pressing up against my side. "Take me on a date. Now!"

"I think that might be a bit tricky, Lav." Parvati snorts, wrapping herself around my other hand. "It's night and curfew is in an hour."

"Aw." The blonde rests her chin on my shoulder. "Fuck."

"Fuck indeed." Parvati giggles again as she mirrors Lavender's position, her breath warm against the side of my neck.

Not one to miss this free opportunity, I tug them closer, activating my [Touch] skill. "Luckily, the second Hogsmeade weekend is tomorrow. Don't worry, Lavender. Our date is upon us."

"Yes!" She drops my hand and throws her arms around my neck, hugging me, squashing her large round tits on my chest.

I fear for the mug in her hand. If it was full, half of it would be already on the floor.

I coil my now free hand around her waist. With a little hesitation, I slide it down and grab her plump cheeks. She moans on my neck and hugs me even tighter.

When I feel Parvati releasing my hand and hugging me from the side too, I cup her arse without hesitation.

She just chuckles on my neck, not seeming to mind.

I don't know how I ended up with two hot girls snuggling against me and letting me paw their butts, but I'm not complaining. As their two distinct fragrances mix and turn into something irresistible, I yank them close and revel in the warmth of their nubile bodies.

"Mmm." Lavender pulls back after a while, smooching me wetly on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

Parvati, too, steps back, but not without giving my crotch a squeeze, giggling. "Payback."

Well, I guess that's true.

"Right. See you tomorrow, Lavender." I look down at her cleavage, making her grin and push out her chest.

"What about me?" Parvati asks, giving me puppy eyes.

"The next Hogsmeade weekend." I lick my lips, imagining her exotic body writhing under me. "I don't think Lavender will like sharing her date tomorrow."

"Ew, no." Lavender makes a gagging noise.

"Okay," Parvati chirps, winking at me before dragging Lavender away.

Well, I have another date before my next one is even done. Fun.

Chuckling, I finally reach Hermione, who has closed her book and is watching the scene unfold.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I slump down beside her, wrapping my arms around her and resting my face against her collarbone. "Yep. But this is even better. It can be best if you came with me to an abandoned classroom."

"I was reading, you know," she huffs, caressing my hair absentmindedly while rolling her eyes at the antics of our drunken housemates. "You can't just whisk me away whenever you want sex."

"I didn't hear a 'no'."

"You're insufferable." She clicks her tongue but shoves her book into her bag and gets up, nudging me aside in the process. "What are we waiting for?"

"I love you so much." I smile, sidling up next to her.

"Gee, thanks. I'm sure you didn't say that to another girl today." She snarks, but her soft smile betrays her true feelings as she loops our elbows together and we walk towards the entrance.

Because the day is going so well, it figures that someone has to ruin it.

This is the second time I've been waylaid, and unfortunately, this time it's not by hot girls.

The three boys in front of us are clearly piss-drunk.

"Cheater. If not for you, I could've been chosen." Shawn, if I'm not mistaken, slurs, jabbing his wand in my direction, his friends doing the same.

Hermione unlinks our elbows and grabs her own wand, gearing up for a fight.

Instantly, the music stops. So does the drinking and kissing. And a charged silence envelops the room.

"Shawn, put that away and go to sleep." I say gently, raising my hands in a placating gesture.

"Don't! Don't condescend me! Why is no one beating this son of a bitch? He cheated right in front of us! Took our chance to shine. And then the absolute cunt didn't even get punished for it! This is so fucking unfair! What can he do that we cannot?"

While the words are his, many of the seventh-years seem to agree to the statement.

Knowing this is a good chance to make a statement, I turn around and look at the growing crowd around us. "You all should know I wouldn't do it just on a whim. Have I ever broken a rule before? Do I seem like some attention seeking brat to you? I did it for Hogwarts. None of the seventh years can match Thyra Helvig. I had to step up to save our school. Now, to answer Shawn's question of what I can do that you all cannot…" I pause, pushing my hands in my pockets, and the common room pauses with me.

No one makes a sound. All eyes are on me. Most are supportive, but few are bitter and angry.

Then, crackling lightning makes everyone scream and huddle down.

Crackle! Crackle! Crackle! Crackle! Crackle! Crackle! Crackle!

Arcs of lightning flashes out and strikes the walls, carefully avoiding my housemates.

When these bolts stop assaulting the common room walls, they leave behind charred spaces wherever they struck.

"You cannot win against Thyra. I can."

At my announcement, the late thunder arrives, making everyone flinch again.

"I'm doing this for Hogwarts. We have to stop worrying about personal glory and think about our beloved school. And if I have to break a rule to do that, I won't shy away."

I take Hermione's hand and leave behind a murmuring crowd.

Today was tiring. I need a good shag now.