First Task Aftermath

The Triwizard Tournament was discontinued for a reason, Heiress Potter…

Treowe Morton's words echoed in her mind as she pushed her Firebolt to its limits, trying desperately to escape the Hungarian Horntail snapping at her heels. Because of course she would end up facing the most dangerous dragon of the lot, and of course the chain that was supposed to limit its range of movement had broken.

Not a single dragon handler had made a move to come out and subdue the loose dragon, and after her dive towards the judge's stands with the dragon right behind her, Headmaster Dumbledore had done nothing to help her, instead reinforcing the magical shielding she should have KNOWN was in place all along to keep him and the other judges safe.

Just needed Lee Jordan's voice to start announcing how close the dragon was coming to killing her and it would be just like most of her Quidditch games at Hogwarts. Something going stupendously wrong, and no one doing a damn thing to help her. Fuck, there was a flying fire-breathing dragon on the loose, and no one was even trying to do anything about it! She wasn't sure if they were rooting for her or for the dragon at this point. No… scratch that, she knew who the Slytherins were all rooting for.

Spinning around in a rather crazy midair stunt, Hella rolls and then dives straight down. She curves up right before the ground, and as she climbs back up again, she hears the dragon slamming into the earth behind her, just as she hears its roar as it pushes off that same earth and goes after her again. She was going through every maneuver in the Quidditch handbook that had been invented, and probably inventing a few more besides over the course of her chase.

It'd been a stupid idea from the beginning, Hella could recognize that now. Challenging a dragon to a chase through the air, like it was her element alone. Dodging bludgers was NOTHING compared to this. Damn it, damn it, damn it! She should have stayed on the ground, she should have used the spells that Treowe had spent the last few weeks teaching her.

Play to your strengths.

Hah, maybe once she was dead, Moody could join the club comprised of DADA Professors that had tried to kill or maim her in some way over the last few years. It would only be fitting. Feeling heat, Hella reacts instinctively, letting out a yelp as she rolls her broom out of the way at the last second, both a gout of flame and the dragon shooting past her. The great big wings billow out, like the sails on the Durmstrang Ship, as it began to come about for another pass… and suddenly, it came to her how she could possibly defeat this monster.

No longer running, Hella spins her Firebolt around, facing the approaching beast head on. She flies towards the dragon instead of away from it, and as she sees fire building in its open maw, she dodges out of the way once again, just barely. Her wand lashes out as she goes over its back, the scream of 'Diffindo' barely even audible in the whirlwind of air she's currently caught in. But the spell goes off all the same, and Hella watches as a huge gash tears open down the length of the Hungarian Horntail's wing membrane.

A slight smile begins to spread across her face, and she begins to feel just the beginnings of hope welling in her breast. She could do this. She coul- Hella's eyes go wide and her jaw opens as the Horntail's spiked, lashing tail pierces right through her chest in the same moment that the dragon cries out, losing control of its flight and sending them both falling down as the ground rises up to meet them, getting closer and closer and…

-x-X-x-

With a scream, Hella Potter shoots up in bed, clutching at her chest through her nightgown, as if she could still feel the bone spike puncturing her body, the phantom memory of it impaling her lasting for just a few seconds before she shakes her head clear of the nightmare she'd been having, accepting that it was just a dream.

What made it worse was, most of that HAD happened. Right up until the tail punching through her sternum, it was exactly how things had gone. Her nigh-suicidal stunt during the First Task had ultimately been successful in real life, and the disabled dragon had gone crashing down into the grounds of Hogwarts. By the time it'd managed to claw its way back over to where everyone else was, breaking down a wall in the process, Hella had landed and grabbed the golden egg.

That didn't stop her from having nightmare after nightmare of all the possible ways she could have died to that damn dragon. The Hungarian Horntail and her experience with it would undoubtedly haunt her sleep for months to come, if not years. Some of her dreams had been particularly bad in fact, such as the ones where she didn't even make it as far as getting into the air on her broom. The worst were the ones where the dragon ate her alive and she was trapped in some sort of gullet, struggling until she woke up only to find she'd accidentally tied herself up in her sheets while she slept.

Letting out a sigh, Hella looks to the curtains drawn around her bed. She'd placed Silencing Charms on them, along with security charms to keep anyone from getting to her… but it was probably best to check just in case. Sticking her head out really quick, Hella glances around to make sure she hasn't woken up any of the other Gryffindor Girls in her year.

Hermione's book-surrounded bed remains undisturbed, and Lavender, Parvati, Eloise, and Fay all remain asleep as well. Letting out a sigh of relief that she hadn't accidentally disturbed anyone's sleep, Hella pulls the curtains apart even further and slips out of her bed, heading towards the bathroom. She really hadn't wanted to deal with any of their complaints if she'd woken them up AGAIN with her nightmares. But then, that was the point of the silencing charms, at the end of the day.

Stepping inside the bathroom, Hella isn't surprised to find it's all spotless yet again, even the goblet that she tended to use as a water cup. Now that she knew Dobby was working at Hogwarts and having seen Treowe make frequent use of House Elves, she could honestly see their efforts everywhere. They truly seemed to enjoy working for wizards and witches, though of course, if you abused that enjoyment, they could very easily grow cold and distant. But if you just treated them with compassion and friendliness and let them do their jobs… they were some of the most reliable creatures around.

She needed only compare how they'd acted when she was around them with Treowe in the Hogwarts Kitchen or the Room of Requirement, to how they acted when she was around them with Hermione. Hermione, who perhaps didn't act nearly as abusive as some of the Purebloods did, and who didn't intend to come across as she did at all… but there was no doubt that the House Elves considered the brunette muggleborn to BE abusive, with her constant attempts to tear them from their work and 'free' them from the service they needed to sustain them.

Pushing past such errant thoughts, Hella Potter grabs up her goblet and fills it with water, quickly draining it before eagerly repeating the action. There was nothing quite like a cup of cold water after a nightmare, like every time she died in her dreams, she awoken with this ravenous thirst that only water could satiate. Some of the cool liquid ends up spilling from her lips and slipping past her nightgown, trailing in between her breasts as she drinks.

It was possible they'd gotten even LARGER since she'd started seeing Treowe. They'd always been her… biggest features, but while it wasn't like she had easy access to a tape measure or a scale here at Hogwarts, Hella wasn't blind to her own body beginning to change on her. Her breasts had packed on a bit more weight, but it was the rest of her frame that had grown in leaps and bounds. She was no longer so top-heavy while being bottom-thin. Her proportions were beginning to become a bit more realistic, and just the other day Treowe had commented on her hourglass figure as he kneaded her growing behind.

Blushing a little, Hella bites her lower lip, arching her back as if she could feel his hands right then and there. For a moment, its almost as if she can see him standing behind her in the mirror, but of course, he's not there. Still, the potions he'd provided with, the freedom to eat as much as she wanted around him… they shouldn't have been such game changers, but they were.

For the longest time, Hella had gone without. And then, once she'd gotten to Hogwarts, she'd forcefully limited herself. At first because she tried to eat too much and got sick, and then after she got friends, after she got to know Hermione and Ron better, it was to keep from being lectured by the brunette bookworm, to keep from being compared to Ron. It was one thing for a 'growing boy' to eat like a pig, but for a 'young lady' to do it? Hella had been very aware of the eyes on her and hadn't wanted to… rock any boats.

But neither Ron nor Hermione had ever experienced starvation, or the desperation that caused one to truly gorge on the food before them while it was available, not knowing when the next meal would come. Stashing some for later had become ingrained in her, but now… now she was able to just focus on her own health, focus on herself and not worry about such things. Now that she was spending so much time alone with Treowe, she didn't have to worry about what everyone else thought of her…

Smiling at the thought of him, Hella's mind strays down another path. The bras and panties that his sisters had provided had quite a bit of spell work on them. They were so comfortable that she sometimes forgot she was even wearing them, right up until Treowe was peeling them off of her. The undergarments seemed spelled to adjust themselves to her body, so they were never tight or loose, but always just the right fit.

She never would have shopped for such high-quality clothing of her own accord, but then, to be fair she wouldn't even have known where to look in the first place. Despite three years of rooming with five other girls, she'd barely learned anything about how to properly take care of herself. No one had ever taught her, she'd had to try and suss out these things on her own… but not anymore.

Biting her lower lip, Hella pulls her nightgown over her head and sets it down on the counter, before stepping up into the shower, turning the water on and beginning to clean up her sweat-soaked body. As she does so, her mind continues to wander onto the subject of her dormmates, of the Gryffindor Girls of her year.

Lavender, Parvati, and Eloise were all undeniably girly-girls. They were obsessed with looks and gossip. Their bread and butter was the latest Witch Weekly, and they acted in such a way that Hella couldn't help but view them as a slightly nicer, slightly friendlier version of Aunt Petunia's Bridge Club. The little club she'd created and run with all the other wives of Privet Drive, trying desperately to maintain some sort of power or influence over her surroundings.

Hermione, of course, had little to do with them, while Hella found herself regularly drawn in to their conversations solely because she was such a good listener. Of course, it was rather easy to do that when you had nothing to say and no real opinion on the subject at hand. Fay, meanwhile, was Hella's sole form of salvation in the girl's dorm, mainly because of their shared interest with Quidditch, making rooming with the others just barely tolerable.

Hella sighs as she lets the water wash over her, hands moving along her frame to make sure she gets the sweat out of all the hard to reach areas. The only real help that her Aunt Petunia had ever been on the path to womanhood was buying her all those horrible, bargain bin bras, just so the breasts she was developing wouldn't bounce around like a whore's. Petunia's words, not hers. Years of being lied to about her mother had certainly done her psyche no good. Heh, her aunt would probably crow in victory that Hella was turning out to be just like those lies, but Hella herself didn't fucking care anymore…

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley had done a lot by comparison, teaching her about magical house keeping and cooking. The bustling woman had seemed thrilled to help her, treating Hella like a sort of surrogate daughter, even confiding in her that her own daughter was too much of a tomboy for some things. Of course, of late, said lessons had taken on a darker tone in her memories, the more Treowe spoke of the Weasleys and Dumbledore and all of it.

His words… they just made so much sense. She'd loved spending time with the Weasleys, but that didn't change the fact that she found herself with similar duties there as she did with the Dursleys, just couched in better terms. They'd asked for her help, and she'd been too polite to refuse…

The more time Hella spent with Treowe, the more time she spent learning what she should have known all these years, the more she saw the path with the Weasley Family narrowing into a single, preplanned outcome. There was only one thing Molly Weasley wanted from her… but Hella's recent actions had undeniable obliterated the path to her marrying Ron, as his mother had clearly intended. Just the thought alone these days made her sick to her stomach. Especially since the only examples of families she'd ever been exposed to were the Dursleys and the Weasleys.

The combined future image of THAT was a nightmare all on its own. Compare it to her relationship with Treowe and… well, Hella couldn't say for sure what they were together. She didn't want to make any assumptions, even if she'd never felt closer to any other man besides him in her entire life. She knew why she'd moved so fast, but did he truly care for her like she cared for him?

Hella liked to think so. From believing her completely from the very first time they'd talked to calling her beautiful, giving her a choice, and showing her the greatest pleasure, she'd ever known… yeah, she liked to think he truly did care. Breath hitching, Hella's lips part slightly and her hands slide down the length of her watery form. One hand grabs at a tit while the other pushes in between her legs.

Slowly, the young woman begins to pleasure herself to the memory of that very first night. The details of the ritual are a bit foggy of course, but she still remembers how it felt for him to take her virginity, how she enjoyed every last bit of the choice she'd made to give herself to him. That night, they'd done some seriously powerful magic… and even now, she could feel its effects in every bit of her new life, every moment of the time she'd had since had been just so… blessed.

The hand NOT between Hella's legs snaps up to her mouth as she lets out a cry, reaching climax right there in the shower, her body trembling and shaking but managing to remain upright, even as her pussy juices gush past her fingers and across her hand. The water does a good enough job of washing that all away quickly enough though, and a few minutes later, Hella is out of the shower, back in her nightgown, and decidedly NOT ready to go back to bed.

Moving as quietly as she can, the young witch changes clothes without waking up any of her dormmates. Then, sneaking downstairs, she makes her way out of Gryffindor Tower altogether. She needs to see him, Treowe… and at this time of night, she has no doubt where he'll be.

-x-X-x-

If there was one thing that her years of experience wandering the castle in the dead of night had given her, it was the ability to pass relatively undetected through Hogwarts' halls. She easily manages to make it to the Room of Requirement despite the lack of light, slipping back and forth on the seventh floor until finally, the door to the room appears.

She'd truly come to enjoy the privacy that the Room of Requirement provided, and the sanctuary that it afforded from the rest of the school's inhabitants. Hella was well are that Treowe had spent much of his time in the room since the start of the tournament, especially since he'd apparently gotten away with using one of the by-laws of the tournament to drop out of all of his classes for the year. He'd had to take up self-study in preparation for the upcoming tasks of course, and part of the deal was that he was forced to give monthly reports to Snape on all he was working on, leaving his Head of House to sign off on his continued self-study, but then, the Potions Professor liked Treowe a lot better than he liked her…

She probably would have tried to join him if doing so wouldn't have incited a fury from Hermione. Not to mention that she didn't expect McGonagall to give her nearly the same amount of support in the endeavor as Snape was giving to Treowe. She'd long since learned not to trust her Head of House for that kind of thing.

Though whether or not Treowe would stay on good terms with Professor Snape after the events of the First Task was still technically up in the air. While Slytherin still had his back, there were rumblings about him receiving the lowest score for refraining from doing anything flashy and just handling his dragon in the quickest, most efficient way possible.

In comparison, Hella's own fame had risen in response to the way in which she'd defeated and crippled the Hungarian Horntail. It'd certainly been worth it when she'd seen the look on the face of that stuck-up French witch from Beauxbatons… served her right for calling her a 'leetle girl'. She got more than enough of that sort of casual disrespect from the adults around her, she wasn't going to take it from some veela bitch too.

Of course, a downside to her success in the First Task was that everyone and their mother seemed to want her autograph now. If she saw one more copy of one of those fictional Hella Potter books again, she might just scream. Bad enough that they'd made entire book series about her 'adventures' while in reality, she grew up in a cupboard under the stairs, but to have to sign the damn things for her 'loyal fans' kind of made Hella feel sick to her stomach.

The sight that greets her as she steps into the Room of Requirement wipes away such thoughts though, and Hella pauses, a wide smile spreading across her face as a really old record player spins a record in the center of the room, playing a by-now familiar song. Treowe called it "Somewhere Beyond the Sea", by a muggle man named Frank Sinatra.

The song was beautiful, and the record player itself was a genius idea. Modern electronics didn't work one lick at Hogwarts, but Treowe had found a way around that, going a little further back in time, taking a purely mechanical device, and then enchanting it to run on his own magic. Hella really hadn't realized how much of the modern, muggle world she'd missed until she saw him doing things like that. To see a part of it here at Hogwarts detached from any connections to the Dursleys and her horrible home life was… it was breath-taking, in a way.

Beyond the record player is a small dining table that he'd likely eaten at for dinner, alone of course. Not that there were any leftovers or dishes left, the House Elves being as efficient in cleaning up as ever. The only clue that Treowe had been there at all was the dragonhide coat that was a key part of the armor his family had sent him for the First Task.

Dark green that turned black in dim lighting, with the Slytherin Crest prominently displayed on the upper back of it, an animated silver serpent that at the moment was curled up on itself, asleep. Of course, it was all to engender sympathy and loyalty, Hella knew that by now. The Mortons could have cared less about the Slytherin House and petty school-age politics, but they cared about their son and heir, so Treowe got exactly what he needed to survive. Hella envied him for that, but also knew that she shared in that now, thanks to their relationship.

Stepping further into the Room of Requirement, the young witch quickly finds Treowe in one of the two high back chairs, currently facing a large roaring fireplace with a goblet in hand and a pitcher of milk on the side table beside him. It brings a small smile to her lips when she sees it, remembering the moment he'd denounced Pumpkin Juice and Butterbeer both, and then explained why to her. He considered the two concoctions the reason that wizards and witches should never be allowed to attempt cooking with only magic to rely on.

According to Treowe, pumpkin belonged in pumpkin pie and that alone, while butterbeer tasted like cream soda with a cup of sugar dumped in it. Hella wasn't sure she could agree on the latter, but then she'd always had a rather large sweet tooth. Getting closer, the young woman can see that Treowe is currently reading through private correspondence from his family, and she makes sure that she doesn't see anything she's not supposed to as she sits in the other chair, alerting him to her presence.

"Hella."

He greets her as soon as he sees her, his deep voice with that reverberating tone that sends shivers up her spine. It's a tone he reserves only for her, as far as she knows, and she licks her lips a little as her slit grows wet just sitting there beside him. Treowe, meanwhile, puts the letter back away into a chest, shutting it to magically lock it and seal the contents up until he has need of them again. Then, he focuses every bit of his attention onto her, an intensity that has Hella's lips parting slightly as she bobs her head once.

"Treowe…"

Her heart's all aflutter as she stares at him, the thinness of his pajama shirt showing off the muscular chest that lay beneath. Fred and George had been the most physically developed males she'd ever seen before Treowe, and honestly, they paled in comparison. Especially in the face of the bulge between his legs, which she could already tell was beginning to grow at the mere sight of her.

Another shudder runs up her spine as she grows wetter still betwixt her thighs, a thrill at the knowledge that he reacted just from her mere presence turning her on even more. Her Gryffindor nature gets the better of her, and without even really thinking about it, Hella finds herself leaving her own chair as quickly as she took to it, climbing into Treowe's lap instead, beginning to kiss him as her hands, which start on his cheeks, eagerly begin to roam across his barely-clothed form.

He chuckles at her impetuousness but kisses her back all the same. That doesn't stop him from teasing her between kisses though, his eyes glittering as his hands come up under her skirt to squeeze at her bum.

"Gryffindor…"

His fingers dig into her buttocks and pull her crotch forward further onto his bulge. In response, Hella moans and gyrates her hips across his covered prick, rubbing it into her heated core. Only the thin fabric of his pants and the even thinner fabric of her panties lies as a barrier between them, while there's nothing to stop his tongue from invading her open mouth.

Treowe is as merciless and aggressive as ever in his attack on her senses. She loves that about him though, if she's being honest. The way he can just flip things on her so easily, the fact that even if she starts things, she can be assured that he'll finish them. His tongue wrestles her into submission, his broad chest stimulates her nipples as she rubs against it, his fingers squeeze and play with her growing derriere.

And last but not least, his thick erection rubs against her panty-clad cunt, right up until Hella's body shudders in release and she soaks through both her panties and his pants by sheer proximity, covering both of their crotches with a nice, oozing amount of pussy juices. Gasping for breath as Treowe releases his hold on her mouth and brings his lips to her neck instead, Hella moans, even as his fingers begin to dig at her panties. Its obvious that he would happily let her ride his cock right here in this very chair… but Hella has other plans.

"W-Wait…"

She manages to gasp that one word out, and unlike the lies that Aunt Petunia had told, unlike the countless times she'd been… u-used, Treowe actually listens to her, actually stops and just holds onto her sides for a moment as he gives her his attention. Biting her lower lip and wiggling atop him, Hella glances over at the large four-poster bed along one side of the transformed room.

"T-The bed… there's, um, something I want to… t-try out."

Despite the desperate ache between her legs, despite her desire to have him inside of her RIGHT THAT INSTANT, Hella manages to get out her intentions. Treowe smiles and nods, holding her tightly and carrying her to the bed as Hella wraps her limbs around him. The moment he lays her down though, she's quick as a flash to strip out of her clothes, tossing the offending garments away from her as Treowe does the same.

Then, once they were both naked, it was Hella who had Treowe lay back on the bed, all the way at the top of it. Only then did she put her plan into action, slowly crawling backwards down the length of his body, swaying her hips and bum as she does so. She can feel the way his dick traces its way up her slit, stomach, and across her breasts before finally she's in a position where she can take his cock into her mouth.

She eagerly does so, but unfortunately Hella did NOT take into consideration the difference in height between them. While she immediately began to wrap her mouth around his member, Treowe could only grope her ass and squeeze and knead her butt cheeks in response. As she slurps at his cock and takes him into her mouth and throat, Hella whines in disappointment around the thick length, irritated that she couldn't make the position work… or she did, right up until her legs were lifted up and she found herself falling down the length of his shaft, which was in turn forced further down her throat.

It almost instinctively shifted to better handle the intrusion, and as their positions changed a little, she felt his head delve between her thighs and his tongue beginning to plunder her slick wet cunt as her nose was forced into his balls. The musk that was now filling her lungs made her light-headed, even as she did her best to swirl her tongue along his cock, slurping and moaning around the member that's now buried in her mouth. Or more accurately, it's her throat that's impaled on his cock, upside down as she is now.

But Hella doesn't mind. In fact, she praises Treowe's ingenuity inwardly, while outwardly she grabs and massages his large ball sack, even as her cheeks begin to chipmunk outwards from the amount of precum beginning to fill them. This continues for what feels like an eternity, but can only be a handful of minutes, before Hella's eyes abruptly go crossed and she climaxes from Treowe's skilled tonguing.

This in turn sets off a chain reaction of sorts, as Treowe begins to cum a moment later. Hella ends up flopping off of him and getting most of his seed on her face and breasts rather than down her throat… but she doesn't have any time to correct the mistake before the well-hung Slytherin is atop her, his cock finding its way into her cunt in short order and thrusting away.

Hella can't quite bring herself to mind this either though. Its exactly what she wanted when she snuck out of her dorm that night, and as Treowe fucks her harder and harder, as he takes her on the bed in position after position, the two of them going at it until exhaustion takes them both and they can finally fall asleep in each other's arms, a nice, tired, dreamless slumber… Hella has just one coherent thought before being completely lost to the pleasure of being fucked by the man she loves.

She really would have to do something nice for Parvati after the Indian witch was kind enough to lend her that book on sexual positions a week back. Treowe and her had had such fun trying all of them out since they'd gained access to it…

-x-X-x-

If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out Hentai-Foundry.com and QuestionableQuesting.com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.

If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon.com/Cambrian

Thanks for reading!