Chapter 45: Too Many Slytherins

The atmosphere in the castle was tense over the next week. The Prophet reported rumors of escaped Death Eater sightings, stoking both the paper's circulation and the fears of the populace. Harry paid close attention to anything that resembled an attack, but Dumbledore assured him that the stories were a result of panicked imaginations. Snape reported that the escapees were in terrible physical condition, and would be for some time. He was forced to leave the castle every night to attend to them.

Harry did his best to relax and focus on things he could control. Angelina worked him hard in practice, as the match against Ravenclaw was rapidly approaching. Hermione worked him hard in the library preparing for OWLs, which was an oddly welcome distraction. Tonks worked him hard in their Sunday training, focusing on casting spells while disillusioned.

Susan hadn't yet decided when to visit the Pride, but he could tell she would do so soon. She was shooting looks at everyone she now knew to be a member. It was only a matter of time before curiosity got the better of her. Harry wanted to let her grow comfortable with the idea in her own time.

Ginny thanked him for telling her about his encounter with Luna Lovegood. Apparently, Luna was unhappy in Ravenclaw. She wasn't physically bullied, but she had no friends there, and was often deliberately isolated. Ginny asked Cho to look into the matter, and Cho discovered that her roommates regularly hid her things, including clothes and homework. She took a boatload of points from her tormentors and threatened them with much worse.

Harry got the impression that Ginny would be spending more time with Luna in the future.

The highlight in the Pride was Valentine's Day. Within the school, the holiday was a frilly pink annoyance. Decorations of cupids and hearts filled the corridors, and there was lots of giggling and exchanging of notes, especially among the younger students.

Within their sanctuary, the day was much less sentimental. The regulars in the Pride were technically single, even though many were close to a particular person or two. The celebration wasn't focused on romantic gestures. The room was left devoid of decorations, and members chose for themselves how to celebrate it.

By unspoken agreement, Harry and Hermione retreated to their alcove. At least for the first hour. There were no terms of endearment, and there didn't need to be any. He fucked her gently at first, until she was moaning and begging for his cum. Things became rougher after that. Harry was increasingly aware of how much she enjoyed being under his thumb when they were alone. Her growing cheekiness, especially in front of Tonks, was actually an odd form of submission. She was playing the wayward student who needed to be put in her place, and she wanted him to do it. Though she role-played with others, her eyes made clear that it was only him to whom she truly submitted herself. He left her sweaty and happy, especially when he took actual house points for failing to promptly obey a prefect.

Afterwards, they descended the stairs and indulged themselves with others. Pippa decided that she wanted to be tied down and gangbanged for Valentine's Day. Lavender wanted to suck every cock in the room. Jo Hampson elected to cover her body in melted chocolate. Everyone gleefully licked her clean, but she later discovered that it had been a mistake to mix chocolate and sex. It was fun when people licked it off her clit and nipples. It was less fun when a hard cock shoved it deep into her pussy. She was too embarrassed to go to Madam Pomfrey, so her night ended with a few very careful scourgifys from Alicia.

Harry was just happy to have the day behind him. He'd received more than three dozen Valentines from secret admirers. Thankfully, his closeness to Hermione prevented anyone from making a move on him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione sat in History of Magic, unable to concentrate on the droning voice of Binns. She had already read the entire textbook, so there was little point in paying attention. Instead, she daydreamed. Anthony Goldstein sat two desks ahead of her. She watched the back of his head and imagined it buried between her legs.

The first night they were together, they had fucked for the full two hours of their shift. He had been embarrassed to realize that she not only had more experience, but wasn't at all shy about voicing her desires. She was patient, though, and coaxed and instructed and talked dirty to him until he would have walked on broken glass for her. The look of awe on his face when they parted made her wet just thinking about it.

He would likely be discreet, but if he weren't—well, there were worse things that could happen. She had a reputation as a bossy swot. If rumors circulated that she was a vixen, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing anymore.

She had met him again yesterday afternoon while Harry was at quidditch practice. Anthony had reserved the prefects' bath, and she'd slipped in under a disillusionment charm to join him. They had indulged themselves with foam and scented oils for an hour before going to the library. He wasn't nearly as skilled as Harry or some of the others in the Pride—he was more hesitant and formal than she was used to—but the thrill of the experience made up for it.

Hermione crossed her legs, squeezing her lips together and wishing she could get away with teasing her clit in class. Merlin, the Pride had made her shameless.

Her thoughts drifted to Draco Malfoy, and another pang of desire shot through her. Not because she wanted to sleep with him, but because she knew what Draco was doing with her image, possibly at this very moment. Dobby had spied on his former master and reported the news to her. The bigoted boy was enthralled by the drawing of her touching herself. He had jerked off to it the very day he had received it, and was now using it regularly.

One day, perhaps after a secrecy oath or two, she might tell him the truth, just to see his face.

Binns' droning finally ended. Hermione gathered her things and noticed a scrap of parchment slide across her desk. She looked up to see Pansy Parkinson's retreating back. She cautiously opened the note. It read: 'Bathroom. Now.'

She frowned. Parkinson didn't scare her. She had mostly been defanged this year, and wouldn't dare attack her in the middle of the day. Even so, she pulled Harry aside and whispered in his ear. He was confused, but agreed to stand guard outside the door while the two girls met.

Hermione made her way to the nearest girls' bathroom, her curiosity piqued. She drew her wand and pushed open the door. It locked behind her as soon as she entered, and she discovered Pansy standing next to a stall and smirking. The Slytherin girl didn't make any aggressive moves, but Hermione kept her wand at the ready.

"Hi, mudblood."

"Can I help you, Parkinson?"

"You definitely can. There's no need for wands. I just want to talk."

Hermione warily sheathed her wand. "Do you need tutoring so you don't fail your classes? I'm not interested in helping."

Pansy sniffed. "You should be nicer to me. I'm still deciding whether or not to destroy your reputation."

"What are you talking about?"

Pansy moved to one of the sinks, then leaned back against it, an evil grin on her face. "You know, Granger, you can't just assume that any room you enter is unoccupied. Even after curfew. And especially not the prefects' bath."

"I don't follow."

"I think you do. I had a little late-night soak the other night, since I still know the password. Imagine my surprise when Hermione Granger and Anthony Goldstein show up and immediately rip each other's clothes off."

Hermione examined her face. She didn't seem to be bluffing. They hadn't seen anyone else in the room, but Pansy could have hidden herself in one of the bathroom stalls. Or been disillusioned. But even if she had seen everything, there wasn't necessarily reason to panic. She decided to tease out more information.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Parkinson."

Pansy laughed. "You filthy mudblood slut! Merlin, I've never heard such depraved language. I heard every word. You fucked his bloody brains out for two hours. I wonder what Potter would think."

"What do you want from me?"

"Oh, I don't know," she drawled. "What can you offer me in exchange for not telling the whole school what a whore you are? I could ruin you, Granger. Potter would kick you to the curb for cheating on him, wouldn't he?"

Hermione smiled. A year ago, she would have been mortified, maybe even terrified, to be in this situation. But things had changed. She had changed. Pansy didn't know that, and it would be to her detriment.

"Harry would never 'kick me to the curb,' you pathetic little girl. Besides, I'll just deny whatever you say. Slytherins spread ridiculous rumors about Gryffindors all the time."

"Except I have proof. I cast a recording charm. I captured every little moan. Every thrust. Every filthy word that came out of your whore mouth. Maybe I'll play it in the Great Hall."

"Blackmail, then? You know, Parkinson, I'm surprised at your boldness, given the smackdown Harry gave you. I thought you had finally learned some sense."

"I'm not afraid of Potter, not when I own you."

"And I know a lie when I hear it. Out of curiosity, what are you trying to get from me? Money?"

"I don't need your money. But I do want some information. If I get it, maybe I'll settle for humiliating you instead of ruining you."

"What information?"

"Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott, for a start. What happened to them?"

"Why would I know that?"

"Because you're Potter's lapdog, and he's always in the thick of things. Something big is happening, and I want to know what it is."

She considered her response. Apparently the Slytherins weren't aware that Voldemort had returned, or Parkinson would've known by now. That was a relief. Still, the girl's plan was confusing. Hermione didn't believe for a second that she wasn't afraid of Harry. Or that she expected to learn something useful from her. Something else was happening. Regardless, it was time to put an end to this charade. Parkinson was vastly overplaying her hand, and she had homework to do.

Hermione drew closer to her, stopping only a foot away. Pansy tensed but didn't reach for her wand.

"So you lost all your power in Slytherin, and you think can regain some by lording it over this poor little mudblood? Is that it?"

She pretended to brush some lint off Pansy's shoulder.

"Don't touch me, Granger."

"Pansy, dear, it's not me who should be more careful. It's you."

"Why is that?"

"Because I know some things you don't. For instance, I know you like to sneak off to the bathroom in the dead of night with Millicent Bulstrode. I know what you do with Jaina Cork too. That's not very acceptable in the circles you run in, is it? If I told everyone, you might not fetch top-dollar on the marriage market."

Pansy's face paled ever so slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? I could easily get proof too. I've got lots of friends."

"You're lying."

"You're so bad at this game, it's disappointing. Do you know how Polyjuice works?"

"What?"

"It doesn't just change your appearance. It changes your voice too. I'll just claim you used Polyjuice for your recording charm. Those filthy words actually came from you. Of course, that's not the most appealing option I have."

Pansy glared at her but didn't respond.

Hermione held up the black hair she had removed from her shoulder. "I happen to have access to Polyjuice. Just imagine what would happen if I made a memory of you being used by a dozen Gryffindor boys. I could send a copy to your parents. Or the Daily Prophet. I'd definitely find a way for everyone in Hogwarts to see it. The entire school would know how much you like to get gangbanged by Gryffindors."

"You wouldn't dare," she hissed, and made a grab for the hair. Hermione pulled it back and her wand was instantly pressed under Pansy's chin. Her eyes went wide.

"I dare quite a bit," Hermione said lowly. "You're in way over your head, garter snake. You're just too stupid to realize it. I am far more ruthless than you when someone threatens me or my friends. Far cleverer too."

Pansy breathed heavily and stared into her eyes, in shock at how quickly the tables had been turned on her. Hermione watched her until she was certain the girl was properly afraid, then withdrew her wand.

"But there's no reason for us to go to war, is there? Slytherins are fond of deals. So let's make one."

"What kind of deal?" she asked shakily.

"Instead of blackmail, why not a simple exchange of favors? I want information too."

"About what?"

"About what's happening in Slytherin. I want to understand it from your point of view. Who's in charge without Malfoy and Nott there? What rumors are you hearing? Is there anyone who wants to attack me or Harry? I'd also like to know why you hate me so much. Is it just bigotry or something more?"

"Why do you want to know all that?"

Because I want to know if Voldemort gets a foothold in Hogwarts again, you silly bint, Hermione thought, but didn't say aloud.

"I'm a curious person. I want to understand why you're the way you are, and why your house pretends it's still 1692. It's ludicrous. Now—what is it you really want from me?"

Pansy calmed somewhat at Hermione's casual demeanor. "Er, information about Draco and Theo and Potter, I guess. The rest I don't know yet. It depends on what you have to say."

Hermione sniffed. Surely Parkinson already knew she'd never sell out Harry, no matter the cost. Why would she think they'd know anything about Draco anyway? The girl had gone to a lot of trouble over this, and she didn't seem that foolish. Maybe her motives were more personal.

"Not much of a plan then, was it?" she mused. "You've got no reason to believe I know anything about your former housemates. What was this? A way for you to get some leverage in your house again? Or did you just want to enjoy humiliating me?"

Pansy didn't answer, but there was a spark of anger in her eyes.

Hermione stepped a little closer to her. She had a suspicion of Pansy's real motives, and wanted to test her hypothesis.

"You're a lesbian, aren't you, Pansy? You wanted to blackmail me for sex. Your own personal mudblood to torture."

"What?! You're insane, Granger."

"Are you blackmailing Bulstrode and Cork too, or are they your lovers?"

Pansy was breathing faster now, unnerved at Hermione's closeness and total lack of fear. She stepped even closer, backing her into the sink. Pansy was a small girl, perhaps 5'1 and not even 100 pounds. Hermione wasn't tall, but still she towered over her.

"Tell me something," she whispered. "Did you like watching me with Anthony? Did you wish you could take his place? You were rubbing yourself raw listening to us, weren't you?"

Pansy swallowed thickly. "You're mad. I would never touch you."

Hermione studied her expression. Her eyes were panicked, but not out of fear. She resisted the urge to smile. If Pansy was willing to risk Harry's wrath to get his best friend under her thumb, her judgment must have been affected by something irrational. Like attraction. Part of her was thrilled with this situation. To have been watched by an enemy who secretly desired her, and who was now powerless.

She gently brushed the bangs away from her forehead. Pansy flinched. Hermione's eyes went from her eyes to her nose to her mouth. She was attractive enough when she wasn't sneering. She might be truly pretty one day, if she grew into her upturned nose.

"I think you would touch me, Pansy," Hermione whispered. "I think I turn you on so much you can't stand it, and you're ashamed of it. That's what this is really about, isn't it? You could pretend to humiliate a mudblood while indulging your most shameful desires. You were willing to take quite a risk too. You must really want me."

She drew close enough to kiss her, but didn't. Pansy's chest was heaving, and she couldn't stop blinking.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said desperately.

"Liar. I bet you're so wet right now it's dripping down your leg. Are you ashamed of wanting a mudblood? Especially when that mudblood would dominate you, because she's better in every way?"

Pansy could barely speak, but Hermione saw the truth of the words register in her eyes.

"There's no need to be scared, little Pansy," she said softly, and ran a finger down her cheek, producing a shiver.

She leaned forward to whisper in her ear, making certain that their cheeks brushed against each other.

"Take a couple days and think it over. Be my eyes and ears in Slytherin—answer any question I ask, about anything whatsoever—and you might just get what you want. But remember what will happen if you try to hurt me or Harry. I'm a kind person, but if you hurt my friends, I'll be the most vindictive bitch you'll ever meet. I'll destroy you so thoroughly you'll have to leave Hogwarts."

She pulled back and smiled, enjoying the look of shock on Parkinson's face. Then she turned and walked out of the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry was less confident in Hermione's judgment of the situation. He paced around the alcove above the Pride while she sat on the bed.

"She might be more dangerous than you think. She was willing to attack me last fall."

"I'm almost certain I read her correctly. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Almost doesn't count right now. Not with Voldemort out there. I'm going to write Narcissa about her. She probably knows what kinds of connections Pansy has."

"Narcissa as in Lady Malfoy? Why would she answer any of your questions?"

He stopped walking and frowned at her inquisitive expression. Damn. It wouldn't take much for her to put two and two together, and it was important that he keep his promise to Narcissa. Being on her bad side was likely very dangerous, unbreakable vow or no. He silently willed the gears in Hermione's head to stop turning for once.

"She's still frosty, but we, er, came to an understanding over break. When we destroyed the horcruxes. You know about the vow she made."

"I suppose."

"I'll send her a note with Dobby. You're probably right, but I want to be sure. Bulstrode said she wasn't a Death Eater, but I don't want to risk you over something silly."

Hermione leaned back on her hands. "I love it when you get protective."

"And I love it when you get ruthless. You really want to sleep with Pansy Parkinson?"

"I wouldn't say I want to, but it was fun to watch her squirm. If I'm right, she could be our own little Snape. She might be more connected to the dark students than Davis and Greengrass."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Greengrass?"

She smirked. "I asked Dobby where you were one night, and he said you were with your 'Slytherinses.' I had already guessed anyway."

"You're too clever for your own good. Nobody else can know though. I promised Daphne."

"I won't breathe a word. When is Susan going to visit the Pride?"

"Dunno. I think she's still getting comfortable with the idea. Are you going to bring it up with Goldstein?"

"Doubtful. He's alright, but too formal for my tastes. I think the Pride would give him a heart attack. I'm certain I almost gave him one."

He snorted. "Since you already know about Daphne, I have a favor to ask."

"What?"

"Do you think I could borrow one of your hairs?"

"Why?"

"It's a special occasion—the Polyjuice kind—and they'd probably prefer not to shag themselves."

"Harry Potter. Look at you. Needing my body so he can get shagged by two Slytherin girls with cocks."

He shrugged. "I'm comfortable with your body, and it's Daphne's birthday gift. Believe me, she'll be repaid in kind."

Hermione plucked several hairs and handed them over with a smile. "Give them both my best. Tell them I hope they enjoy my body, and I'd love to hear from them directly how often they're able to make you moan like the whore you are."

"Says the girl who plans to shag Pansy Parkinson."

"She's not repulsive, and I bet I could own her completely within a month."

"I'm so glad you're on my side, Hermione."

She stood and patted his cheek. "You better be. Now help me out of these clothes. Getting the best of Slytherins gets me all hot and bothered."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry laughed into the mirror. "You sound like a child right now."

"You don't know what it's like!" Sirius whined. "It's a bunch of inbred, pretentious arseholes who don't do anything but talk."

"No wonder your family was a part of it."

"Laugh it up, Harry. These twats are the reason Britain is in such bad shape. I'm going to drag you to a committee meeting and you'll want to off yourself right there at the table."

"Committee for what?"

"The preservation of wizarding dances!" he said indignantly. "That was my first assignment. And I'm on another one that is 'exploring' the possibility of legalizing Indian laurel wood for wands. They've been debating it for five fucking years!"

Harry burst out laughing. "Better you than me, Padfoot."

"Bloody useless imbeciles, the lot of them. The only law they've passed in the last three months was to reward themselves with a raise—which they took from Bagman's department to scapegoat him over The Tri-Wizard tournament."

"I won't complain if you burn it all down."

"I just might. Dumbledore told me about your plan with the conjured snakes. Do you think it'll work?"

"No idea, but we sent them everywhere, including Ireland and the Isle of Wight."

"I don't think Ireland has any snakes."

"They do now."

Sirius laughed. "Well, I'll let you get to sleep. I have an appointment to keep later."

"With Cosette or Madame Clarissa?"

"You know me too well, but Cosette is back in Switzerland. Madame Clarissa's is about the only thing I have in common with the Wizengamot members."

Harry shuddered. "I don't even want to imagine a bunch of old men—wait, that reminds me. I meant to ask some of our alumni about this, but do former club members still get together after Hogwarts? Like casually, or in clubs for adults?"

"Not that I know of."

"Would you even know though? There was a war on, and then you were in Azkaban for 12 years. You missed your 20s."

"That's a damn good point."

"You might want to track down some of your old housemates and make inquiries. I'm curious. And maybe then you could stop paying for sex."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry waited patiently under his cloak. Moaning Myrtle was absent, thankfully, but it reminded him that he needed to visit her again. She had been quite helpful last year. He had thought long and hard about whether to reveal this place to his Slytherins. He trusted them now, and believed they would keep his secrets. Even if they didn't, there was little damage they could do. No one could enter the Chamber without him, and few would even believe that its entrance was located here.

At the appointed time, they opened the door and looked around in confusion. He whipped off his cloak. Daphne flinched and glared at him. Tracey didn't seem very enthused either.

"Seriously, Potter?" Daphne said. "Why are we meeting in this disgusting bathroom? Because if you think I'm going to spread my legs for you on this wet floor…"

"And a good evening to you too! I brought you here for a little surprise. I thought you deserved something special for your 17th."

"It better not involve toilet seats," Tracey grumbled. "We were expecting another kind of gift."

"I have your Polyjuice right here. Don't worry."

"Then why are we here?"

"Don't you want to be the only two Slytherins to visit the Chamber of Secrets?"

"What?" they echoed dubiously.

"It's real. It used to be the home of a basilisk. I've had Dobby cleaning it up a little in his spare time."

He smiled at the looks on their faces and pulled two brooms from beneath his cloak. "You're going to need to ride a broom together. Light a wand and follow me. It's a bit of a hike."

They looked at each other and Tracey hesitantly reached for the offered broom. Both jumped as Harry hissed at a sink.

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing beneath a giant statue of Salazar Slytherin. Daphne and Tracey gaped at it. They had been unsettled with their travel to the chamber, thinking it was Harry's idea of a prank. But the empty grandeur of the place, and his repeated use of parseltongue, convinced them that it was real.

"That's really Salazar Slytherin?" Tracey asked, sounding both awed and disappointed.

"Yep. Looks a bit like a constipated monkey, doesn't he? He was a hairy bugger."

Daphne huffed and glared at him.

"What? The man commissioned it himself. Surely it's accurate."

He looked around the cavernous room. Dobby had cleaned it thoroughly. The huge marble pillars shined in the torch light, and even the stone walls seemed to sparkle. There was nothing to be done about the cold, ominous atmosphere.

"Not much to see here, I know," he said. "But it's still an interesting place. Over there is where the basilisk died. I think Dumbledore got rid of the corpse."

"You seriously killed a giant basilisk with a sword?" Tracey asked.

"I did. Had some help from a phoenix though. Fawkes saved my life twice over."

Harry had chosen to tell them the truth about his adventure in second year, omitting the bit about the horcrux. It had been great fun to tell Narcissa the story. The basilisk rumor was already out there in the school, though no one believed it. He wasn't entirely certain that Tracey and Daphne believed him, given the doubtful looks they were shooting him.

"We can go back upstairs if you want," he said. "But who else can say they celebrated their 17th birthday in the mythical Chambers of Secrets, while shagging The-Boy-Who-Lived in a kinky Polyjuice genderswap?"

Tracey grinned. "That's a pretty strong argument."

"I suppose," Daphne agreed, eyeing the hard stone floors. "Please tell me we can get a bed down here."

"Of course. Dobby!"

A moment later their usual bed appeared just beneath the statue of Slytherin. It looked quite out of place in the surroundings.

He smiled. "I think old Salazar would quite enjoy watching a Gryffindor shag a pair of his Slytherins in his secret chamber, don't you?"

Daphne returned his smile, but hers was wicked. "You're the one getting shagged tonight, Potter. Thoroughly. Until you beg for mercy."

"Keep in mind that whatever you do, I'll mete out twice as much punishment to you later, birthday girl. I have another gift for you, if you want it."

"What's that?"

He pulled a long hair from within his robes. "I know you experimented on each other, but I thought you might prefer something new tonight. This was freely donated by Hermione for the occasion."

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "Does she know what it's for?"

"She does. She knows about both you and Tracey now. I didn't tell her, I promise. She's just clever."

"Hmmph. As long as she doesn't tell anyone. If—"

"She won't. And she thoroughly approves of you enjoying her body, by the way. She wants to hear the story from your lips, if you're willing."

Tracey smirked. "She's got a lot of experience bending you over and filling you with your own cock, doesn't she?"

"She's my best friend and she's half-mad sometimes, but I'm willing to indulge her every once in a while. Just like I'm about to indulge you."

"Damn right. Let's get this party started. You've been teasing us for two months now."

"Yes, he has," Daphne agreed. "Just so you know, Potter, you're going to get destroyed tonight, no matter whose body you're in."

"You'd think I wronged you both somehow."

"Nope," Tracey said with a huge smile. "We just want to see the big, bad, basilisk-slaying Gryffindor moan as he gets his pussy filled."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry gasped as Daphne thrust into him with enough force to shake the bed. His hands gripped the sheets hard as she picked up her pace. He was panting and sweating as the girls made use of every second of their hour in his body. Thank Merlin Hermione had such stamina.

Both had preferred him to take her form, so that they wouldn't have to shag one of their own bodies. He was starting to regret making the offer. It freed them to use him outrageously. Hermione's ass cheeks were smarting. Bright red handprints decorated both of them like tattoos. Daphne was particularly vicious in her smacks.

The girls had been taking turns on him. One would work him over while the other regrouped. They had both acquired more stamina after their first two turns. They bossed him around and used Hermione's body roughly, pinning his legs behind his ears or bending him over and forcing his head into the pillow. He obeyed their orders, and waited patiently for revenge. Tonight was about satisfying his friends.

Tracey put her face—his face—right next to him on the pillow and grinned. "I'm not hearing enough moaning, Granger."

"Oh, shut up. My voice is raw."

"He still doesn't know his place, Daph. I think you should be rougher."

Daphne slammed her hips into his ass and he whimpered and twisted the sheets in his hands.

"Easy! It's not supposed to be painful."

She slowed down and squeezed his ass cheeks tenderly. "Sorry. I just never imagined Granger making such noises."

"Who owns your pussy, right now, Harry?" Tracey asked gleefully.

His eyes were closed, but he rolled them anyway. The girls were a little too enthusiastic about dominating him, and were doing quite an amateurish job. Had that line sounded so silly when he'd said it to Narcissa? He reminded himself again that this was a gift to them.

"You do. Both of you," he said, trying to sound convincing.

"That's right. Your Slytherin overlords. Now rub yourself. You better cum again before Daphne finishes. And you better scream loud enough to make that statue smile."

Harry reached between his legs and teased Hermione's clit back and forth. He'd already had three orgasms tonight. He was comfortable in her body—well, as comfortable as he could be in a girl's body—and understood how her arousal worked.

Daphne slid into him languidly this time. He could tell she was getting close, and was trying to prolong the moment. Her slow thrusts admittedly felt good. His cock filled Hermione's depths perfectly, spreading her walls and stretching them just the right amount. Every time she pulled out, his pussy pulsed in protest and grew wetter. A familiar flush of heat spread throughout his body, and he rubbed his clit more firmly.

Tracey reached beneath him to cup his breasts and tease his nipples.

"Put your finger in his butt," she said with a giggle.

Daphne snorted, and a moment later her thumb slipped into his asshole. She was far bolder when she wasn't in her own body. Her inhibitions had disappeared as she sought revenge for all the times he had teased and dominated her in the past.

"Does that feel good, Potter?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yeah. Perfect," he said, even though it didn't do much for him.

She picked up her pace again. Her cock rubbed wonderfully against his g-spot, and he moaned. The tide in his belly was rising, and would soon wash over him again.

"Three more minutes, Daph. Make him scream."

Daphne sighed as she filled him yet again. "I can't hold out much longer. Please cum, Potter. One last time. Please, I want to feel it."

He squeezed his swollen clit upright and teased the underside of it, just as Hermione always liked. The wave of pleasure he sought rolled beneath him. He latched onto it. It swelled and he couldn't stop another moan from escaping.

"Almost there. Go faster," he said.

Daphne gave up control and pounded him. He whimpered as she smacked his ass as hard as she could.

"Give it to him, Daph!"

She gasped. Harry felt her flood him with her release. She bathed his walls in copious spurts of cum, and it was enough to undo him. He panted in ecstasy as his pussy spasmed around the big cock invading it. He didn't have to feign the noises he made. Something deep in Hermione's belly released, and he soaked Daphne's cock as she spurted inside him.

They both panted as they came down. When she finally stopped moving, he rolled onto his back. She immediately collapsed next to him. Tracey watched them both with a silly smile.

"So. Fucking. Hot!" she said, playing with his breasts and spreading the traces of cum she found there along his hard nipples.

"Merlin," he whispered in Hermione's voice, and stared at the underside of Slytherin's chin.

"That was the most intense hour of my life," Daphne said.

"I'm going to be sore tomorrow, even if I'm in my own body," he said. "I can tell."

Tracey laughed, and a moment later all three of them shuddered and reverted back to their normal bodies. Harry sighed in relief. He was indeed sore, even in places that didn't exist. His ass cheeks throbbed from their treatment tonight.

Both girls draped themselves over him and kissed the edges of his lips.

"You're amazing," Tracey whispered.

"Thank you, Potter," Daphne purred in the most seductive voice he'd ever heard from her.

"You're both welcome. Did it meet your expectations?"

"My most memorable birthday by far."

"I hope you're satisfied with your revenge."

"For now."

"Good, because as soon as I can move again, I'm going to make you wail like a banshee. Salazar will spin in his grave."

Daphne licked his cheek and bit his ear in a manner that was far more affectionate than usual. "I won't complain."

He smiled. Her mask wasn't gone yet, but every time they slept together, she became a little less formal. Deep down, she was a weird combination of tenderness, vanity, pride, and submissiveness. He intended to make her half a Gryffindor by the time they were finished. Tracey was nearly there already.

"Did you enjoy Hermione's body?" he asked.

"Yes!" Tracey said. "She can take your whole cock easier than I can. Merlin, it's fun to be rough."

"Give her our compliments," Daphne said. "I'm not attracted to girls, but she has a nice body. I won't forget the favor."

"She'll enjoy hearing it from you more than from me. She said so."

Daphne squeezed his soft cock. "Perhaps we'll speak to her then. We could compare notes on arithmancy in the library—and she could give us tips on how to drive you wild when we do this again."

Harry laughed and turned to kiss her sweaty face. "Good luck with convincing me. Maybe I should keep the three of you apart. The combination might bring about the apocalypse."

"Too late. Now that she knows about me, I find myself more interested in her opinions."

He shivered, wondering what unholy beast he had just unleashed. His energy returning, he sat up and squeezed both of their thighs.

"Okay, it's time for your real present, Lady Greengrass. You're going to forget you're a Slytherin before the night ends."

Harry reached for his wand and petrified her before she could protest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tracey gasped as he teased the underside of her clit with his tongue. Her thighs quivered and she wrapped them around his head. Harry slid three fingers deep inside her, and she sighed with each contraction as yet another orgasm tore through her. He'd already ravished her with his cock until she whimpered. This time she preferred a gentler approach.

He kept up the pressure until her legs fell open and she covered her pussy with her hand. "Stop. I can't take anymore."

"What a shame. I guess I'll have to return my attention to Daphne."

Tracey's head was reclining on Daphne's side. Her friend hadn't said a word, because there was a gag in her mouth, and her hands and feet were bound to the four corners of the bed. Words were written on her belly. They read 'Gryffindor Cocks Only.' There was an arrow that extended all the way to her pussy, which dripped with his cum. Dobby had already taken a picture of her. Harry thought she deserved a memento of the evening. Whether she kept it or burned it was yet to be seen.

"Look at her eyes," he said with a smile. "Do you think she'll try to murder me if I set her free?"

Tracey giggled. "No, but she'll pretend she wants to."

"That's what I think too. We should do one more thing before we end her special evening."

"What?"

Harry got up and retrieved another vial of Polyjuice from his bag. "I still have one left. Just take two or three sips. It should last long enough."

"Who am I turning into?"

"Me."

She searched his eyes, and then laughed. "Oh, Merlin, this should be fun."

While Tracey downed the potion, Harry returned to the bed and caressed Daphne's entire body with his fingertips. She shivered, and her nipples grew hard. He sat down next to her and rested his palm on her belly. When she stared into his eyes, he lowered it to her mound and caressed the soft, blonde hair there. His hand drifted upward again and made little circles around a nipple until she began to squirm.

"You've been a good girl for the last hour, and good girls get nice presents."

Her eyes blazed with something fierce, but they also held a question.

Harry leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. "You need to be reminded of your place in the hierarchy, princess. So we're going to dominate your body with two Gryffindor cocks. I'll fill your pussy while Tracey fills your mouth. You'll love every second. Won't you?"

Something like a huff escaped her.

Harry trailed his hand along her body until it rested between her legs again. Her lips were slick and warm, and still sticky with his cum. "You're still wet. Don't pretend you wouldn't like it. I bet you've dreamt about it. Do you want to open your last gift, birthday girl?"

Daphne narrowed her eyes, but they were no longer burning. He wasn't at all certain what she was thinking, but his instincts told him that she would acquiesce, perhaps after a bit of faux protest. She had almost certainly expected something like this after what she'd done to him earlier.

Harry caressed her clit until she was subtly pushing it against his fingers. "Take off your mask for me," he whispered.

She looked into his eyes and released a deep sigh. Her gaze darted to Tracey, who now occupied his body. She stared at her uncertainly for a long moment, and finally gave him the smallest of nods.

Harry smiled. "Good girl."

He removed the gag—a Gryffindor tie—from her mouth. She didn't speak right away.

"Not going to threaten me with imminent death?"

"No. Let's unwrap my last present so I can go to fucking bed, Harry."

Both he and Tracey laughed. She hadn't called him 'Potter,' and she had cursed. Whether he had broken through a barrier or she was just tired, it was hard to say. But she was submitting herself to them without even pretending that she didn't like it, and that's what mattered.

Harry flicked his wand and the restraints binding her ankles and wrists released. She groaned and rubbed them. He hadn't been rough with her while she was restrained. He had teased her without mercy, going down on her and then fucking her so tenderly that she couldn't stand it. That was about to change.

"On your hands and knees, pureblood princess," he commanded.

Daphne obeyed, and a grinning Tracey situated herself in front of her. Her cock was already hard, and she rubbed it lovingly across Daphne's face despite the glare she received in return. Harry moved behind her and raised her hips.

He gently squeezed her ass. "Show us how much you love your friends, and we'll do the same."

Harry rubbed the tip of his cock along her soft folds until she coated him with her arousal. Whatever she might claim about what was happening—being ravished by two Harry Potters—it clearly turned her on. He watched as Daphne gently took the head of Tracey's cock in her mouth, then slid himself home. Her grip was as warm and tight as ever, and he intended to make her pussy ache with need.

His hands kneaded her ass as he began thrusting in and out of her, watching the way he parted her pink lips. Tracey was already panting. She was licking her lips and staring down as Daphne suckled on the tip of her cock.

"That's it," he said encouragingly. "Worship your best friend's cock."

Tracey looked up and met Harry's eyes. Both smiled. He knew the girls would be talking about this moment tomorrow. They had become even closer since they started sharing him. Tracey closed her eyes and began subtly bucking her hips, sliding just a little more of Harry's cock into Daphne's mouth. He could hear her little slurps, and it made him ache with desire too.

For the next fifteen minutes, they made love to her pussy and mouth. Tracey was careful not to gag her, but still went to her haunches and gripped the back of Daphne's hair for more control. With Harry pushing into Daphne from behind, she only needed to stay still to slide across her friend's soft tongue and into her throat. She seemed enthralled by what was happening.

Harry was in no hurry to finish. He wanted Tracey to cum first, so he could be rough afterwards. He shifted his cock around inside Daphne, massaging her walls and teasing her g-spot as deftly as he could. The slick sound of her wetness made him want to pound her. Every few minutes, she stopped sucking Tracey and rested her head on her thigh to catch her breath, her eyes closed while she concentrated on the way Harry filled her. Her body trembled with each slow penetration, and he could tell by the little noises she made that she was lost in a state of bliss.

It was indeed Tracey who lost control first. The grip of the lips around her cock was just too much to bear. She went to her knees, her breath coming faster, and slid deeper into Daphne's mouth.

"Fuck, Daph," she panted. "Let me cum in your mouth. Please."

"No," Harry said firmly. "On her face. Coat it with Gryffindor cum. She's earned it."

Tracey blinked when Daphne didn't protest his words. Harry's heart soared at her silence. The birthday girl closed her eyes as Tracey pulled out and held her cock up to her nose. She stroked herself quickly, almost hyperventilating as her release overpowered her. She grunted as her cock unleashed load after load of thick cum on her friend's face. Long, glistening stripes oozed down her eyelashes and cheeks and nose, coming to rest on pouting lips. Tracey stared in disbelief as a pink tongue darted out to swipe some of it away.

Harry wanted to pound Daphne now, but couldn't resist a little more teasing. He slid his cock into her depths and wriggled his hips, then squeezed both of her ass cheeks roughly.

"Did you enjoy Tracey's cum in your face?" he asked.

When she didn't answer, he reached beneath her to gently tweak her clit. "Yes," she finally moaned out.

"I thought so. Does your pretty Slytherin pussy belong to me now?"

"Yes," came without hesitation.

He thrust into her harder and she gasped. "And are you in love with my Gryffindor cock?"

"Yes, Harry! Please stop teasing and fuck me with it!" she begged, her voice thick with Tracey's cum.

"Good girl."

Tracey shivered and reverted to her normal female form. Harry met her eyes and smiled. He smacked Daphne's ass roughly and picked up his pace within her. She was amazingly wet, and he slid into her depths easier than he ever had. Her soaked pussy quivered in a vain attempt to grip him. He squeezed her ass cheeks harder, and she whimpered as he plunged himself into her over and over again. Her body grew taut, and was soon shaking with the force of his entry. She moaned and gasped and cursed under her breath as Harry began pounding her without mercy. He smacked her ass once more, and the sound echoed loudly in the cavernous room. She hissed when he reached forward with a hand to pull back on her hair.

"Fuck!" she cried out, sounding utterly beside herself as her body shook.

Tracey went to her knees next to Harry and reached between Daphne's legs. Her fingers found her clit, and Daphne made no objection. She only made increasingly desperate noises as Harry pummeled her. Finally, she began throwing herself back against his cock. It took only a few more thrusts for her to cry out raggedly. Her pussy gushed and gripped him in fierce spasms. Tracey rubbed her through it, and the thought of the two girls pleasuring each other overwhelmed him.

Harry shoved himself into her harder and came deep inside her pussy, releasing long ropes of cum with each pulse. He gave Daphne's ass its last smack of the night as she writhed beneath him, overcome with sensation.

Everyone took deep breaths of satisfaction when they were finished. Daphne rolled over onto her back, and only now did he get a good look at her face. Tracey had made an absolute mess of her. She looked at him through hooded, cum-soaked eyelids, and licked away a thick glob that had rolled from her nostrils to her lips.

Her eyes said something he couldn't quite decipher, but he remembered seeing a similar expression on Narcissa's face after he took control of her. Whatever else that look meant, it definitely meant that her body was sated, and that it belonged to him.

He smiled. "Happy birthday, Daph."