Genie For Hire

Chapter 3. Genie For Hire

I scowl as Rose winks at me and sashays out of the classroom, my gaze inadvertently falling on her denim-clad butt.

Sometimes, I get this violent urge to strangle her in her sleep. Right now, after she made a fool of me twice, this urge is on the verge of turning into a murderous obsession.

I take a deep breath and exhale my anger.

Rose is irritating to deal with, but she is my sister, unfortunately. And even I can't bring myself to plan a sororicide. It would break mum's psyche. Even Iris would become morose from the lack of their constant bickering. And I, too, may miss her annoying presence. So no choking her in her sleep… for now.

At least this infuriating interaction raised her seduction percentage, not to mention I got to see her voluptuous boobs in their full glory. And while I'd have really liked to grab and squeeze them, it's fine; I'll get to do that soon enough.

Rose Evans

Level: 22

Beauty Tier: A

Seduction: 45%

Points Available: 5

Before boarding the Hogwarts Express, I managed to raise her seduction from 0% to 10%. After giving her Firebolt this morning, that number soared to 40%. And now gifting her another present in the form of [Bra of Comfort] has caused that number to jump again.

Not going to lie, I'm surprised at how quickly I went from 0% to 45% in mere days.

Is my sister this easy? Does all one needs to do to get her attention is buy her an extravagant broom? Then it's good that no one did until now. Maybe that's the reason why she doesn't have a boyfriend, in spite of her popularity. She was waiting for a rich bloke to spoil her all along.

If my progress remains consistent, Rose will be spreading her legs and moaning my name before this week ends. However, I highly doubt that will happen. The chances of receiving another boost similar to the one I got when I gave her that expensive broom are pretty low. I wonder how I should continue further. I don't see many options.

Oh well, I'll think about it some other time. Presently, I need to take care of my arousal, and I was planning to visit Hermione for some bonding time anyway. She wouldn't mind a few rounds of sex to put little me back to sleep. She has to pay up for that deluxe edition of Hogwarts: A History somehow.

Unfortunately, I don't get the opportunity.

It's when I'm walking back towards the common room that Iris waylays me.

"Harry." She nods with an uncharacteristic bright smile, stepping out from the entrance, the painting of the Fat Lady closing behind her.

"Iris." I nod back, moving past her, already imagining Hermione's naked body rubbing against mine.

But she grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. "You remember how you promised to tutor me?"

I stifle a groan. Not right now. "It's the first day. Relax a little, will you?"

"I'm free and have nothing better to do." She tugs at my hand, pouting and trying to act all cute and harmless. Though her smile seems true enough. Must be because of the gift I gave her this morning.

"I'm not. I have some things to take care of."

"Like what?" Here it comes: the heat in her voice, as if nothing can be more important than me tutoring her, as if my entire world should revolve around her.

I frown at her petulant tone and wrench my arm free. "Personal things."

Hurt and anger flash across her face.

"Fine!" she hisses and flounces away. "Moron."

I should leave the grouchy princess to her own devices and grab Hermione for a quick shag. That's what I want to do. But I know what I must do. Sometimes, being the only responsible sibling is maddening.

I sigh and follow after her, reluctantly suppressing the craving to go see Hermione. This request for tutoring is more because of Iris' desire to spend time with me than an actual need for it. She already ranks first in her year by a big margin, doing nothing but studying all the time. So she doesn't really need any aid. It's the lack of social exchange that bothers her. After all, how long can you remain alone without feeling lonely? And since she doesn't have any friends, she always winds up before me.

My little sister is not unlike a moody cat who minds her own business most of the time while occasionally prowling towards her owner for a bit of affection.

"The library is not that way, you know." I jog up and walk beside her.

"Don't you have personal things to do?" She refuses to look at me, climbing up the spiralling stairs that lead to the roof of the Gryffindor Tower.

"I had a change of heart. Now, are you going to drop that gloomy look or not?"

"What look?" She grumbles, pushing on an old wooden door.

It creaks open.

We step out onto a strip of terrace that encircles the conical apex of the tower. The flat surface is barely five feet wide from the entrance to the parapet.

I blink when Iris pulls out a blanket from her bag and spreads it down on the floor. Then she promptly sits down cross-legged with her back propped against the wall.

"Don't just stand there; sit down now that you're here."

I sink down beside her, looking around at her secret spot. It's honestly a nice enough place, if a bit cramped. Since the tower is among the tallest, the view is effortlessly aesthetic and serene—certainly now as the sun lowers towards the horizon in front of us, washing everything in warm, red light. "This is where you come when you're not with me?"

She nods and rests her head on my chest, the lemony scent of her red hair filling my nostrils. "It's quiet, and rarely anyone comes up here. And even if they do, I force them away. But you can use this place if you want."

"Thank you." I drape my left arm around her shoulders, dragging her closer, realising this was the reason why she demanded my company. She wanted to reward me for bestowing her with a box full of books.

She hums and says nothing, opting to snuggle deeper and stare at the sky.

I think we'll only have some thirty minutes before the sunlight totally vanishes, leaving us in the dark. But before that can happen, Iris decides she has had her fill of cuddling. Her affectionate side doesn't last long, and she wiggles free from my grasp and takes out her books.

Opening one in her lap, she begins reading.

I'm grateful that she tosses a book at me. The Silmarillion.

"You can read it while I study. I'll ask for your help if I come across something that I don't understand," she says, aware that she can't expect me to be on standby the entire time.

I readily agree, opening the book and roving my eyes over the text.

I can't say I'm a very big fan of Tolkien's works. I have read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings at the nagging of Iris and didn't understand what the craze was about. They are great books, of course, but not something I'll consider the best with their anticlimactic, lukewarm endings. Maybe that's my modern perception. Perhaps I'd have a different opinion if I were born a couple of decades ago.

Reining in my wandering mind, I focus on the book.

It takes a couple of pages, but soon I'm engrossed in the fictional mythology of Eä.

After a while, the darkening sky reminds me that this isn't the perfect place or time for leisure reading. I assumed we would go back in a few minutes. That's why I'm surprised when Iris just creates a floating ball of light and continues her diligent study.

But my reading mood is gone, and boredom makes me feel restless, each passing second dragging to infinity. And the greying sky isn't really inspiring, nor is the gentle wind that turned chilly without the sun.

Iris too seems a bit uncomfortable, stretching her back to chase away the stiffness, the hard surface of the wall not exactly doing her spine any good.

"Should we go back?" I ask, hoping for a yes.

She shakes her head, a wayward red curl flapping on her forehead with the breeze. "I need to read two more chapters about this rune. So fifteen more minutes."

I frown, preparing to leave her here, but an enticing idea makes its way to my mind. "Here, use my chest as a backrest. It's better than the wall." I spread my legs towards the parapet and pat the space between my thighs.

She arches her eyebrows, but then shrugs and sits on the blanket with her back pressed against my front. I perch my chin on top of her head and hug her from behind, my entwined fingers resting on her belly.

"You won't be able to read in this position," she comments, relaxing and resting her weight on me.

I give her a squeeze. "It's fine. I'm not in the mood. And this way, I won't get cold."

"Smart."

"Was that sarcasm?" I pinch her stomach.

She squawks and elbows me. "Stop that! Don't disturb me unless you want to stay here longer than necessary."

I catch her hiding a smile and just hold her while she reads her book.

This is actually nice—the sensation of her warm body flushed against mine. It is exceptionally cosy and pleasant. And her hair smells good, too.

I kiss her hair, and she mumbles 'moron' with fondness, not taking her eyes off her book.

I close my eyelids, and the cold is not so bothersome anymore now that her body heat is seeping into me. I idly rub my thumbs in circles on her belly, the fabric of her blouse not too thick to insulate her skin entirely. And I sense the way she stiffens, but when I continue doing it, the tension bleeds from her, and she doesn't complain.

But my eyes snap open when my body reacts to our cuddling.

Iris tenses up again as she feels my growing hardon on her lower back. But once again, she remains silent and doesn't complain, content with ignoring it.

Usually, I'm able to control my erections, but the sight of Rose's large, supple tits has left a lasting impact. And before I could've used Hermione to satisfy myself, Iris had successfully ambushed me and convinced me to accompany her.

Still, since Iris is doing her best to ignore it, I can follow her example too.

The question is, should I? I won't get many chances like this. I must use it to raise her seduction.

I toggle on my [See] skill.

Iris Evans

Level: 17

Beauty Tier: A

Seduction: 70%

Points Available: 5

This certainly shows that I'm nearly there. But if I turn on my [Touch] skill now, there's a high chance that she will react like Hermione did in the train. Leaping away as if burnt. And I'm unsure if I'll be able to recreate the Hermione scenario. Iris won't be that easy. I won't be able to talk her out of her clothes with logic and flattery.

I turn on my [Touch] skill anyway.

And she doesn't jump in surprise, but she does freeze into a statue. I untangle my fingers and slide my palms up her stomach while holding my breath, my boner throbbing in want, her purple blouse feeling negligible under my touch. I am touching her bare skin—smooth and warm, or so it feels. My palms bump against her underboobs.

She gasps and squirms against me, rubbing her back on my chest, her Runes book toppling from her lap, lying forgotten in the heat of the moment.

I bite back a moan as her movements stimulate my erection, as her spine grinds against my crotch.

I can feel the band of her bra under my fingers, and I boldly move up, my breath still stuck in my throat.

I cup her tits over her clothes.

They are smaller, perkier, and slightly conical rather than perfect round bags of fat. Their size is barely a-cup, just large enough to be enveloped under my palms, just big enough for them to be grabbed and squeezed.

"Harry!" she moans, throwing her head back, almost hitting my chin.

I chuckle at the cute noise she makes and pull back my legs, sweeping her up, forcing her to lay in my lap.

She twists and wriggles on my crotch, and I unclasp my arms, freeing her from my constricting grip.

She turns around and straddles me, her hands gripping my shoulders, her face as red as her hair.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is tiny, quivering, and unsure.

I cup her face and plant a small peck on her lips.

When I pull back, she is gaping at me, her lips parted open and her emerald eyes as wide as saucers. I lean forward again and lock lips with her. I kiss harder this time, mashing my mouth over hers. Her mind soon catches up with what's happening. At first, she tries to push me off with a hiss, but then she does a one-eighty and kisses me back.

Her arms encircle my neck, and she presses further into me. I slip my hands under her purple blouse and trace her back, unable to ignore the temptation to touch her bare skin. It is hot and silky, and my erection pulses at the sensation.

The lack of air makes us pull away, and I smile at her wet, pink mouth.

"What are we doing?" She pants, hitting me lightly on the chest. "You're my brother."

I shrug nonchalantly, my hands still under her blouse, caressing her. "I don't care. Do you?"

She hesitates before shaking her head. "Can I get one more kiss?"

I oblige and snog her again. Though she slaps my hands away when I try to grope her breasts. She does it again when I try to fondle her pert rear.

Glowering at me, she pokes my cheek. "Only kissing, moron."

"Sure, princess." I smile as she attacks my lips with fervour.

We snog a lot after that, and though I'm a bit disappointed by my inability to pet her assets, I try to remain content with just caressing her bare back. Although the weight of her arse over my crotch certainly tests my restraint.

"Enough." She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and climbs off my lap. "It's getting late."

"True." I stand up and lean against the wall, watching her roll the blanket and pack her bag.

She gets up and dusts her skirt.

I'm pleasantly surprised when she rises on her toes and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. "The last kiss of today."

"Someone certainly likes kissing." I offer my arm. She happily grabs onto me and intertwines our fingers.

She swings our joined hands as we head back through the old wooden door, not bothering to hide her broad smile. "Yep. We will be doing this a lot from now on."

"I assume I don't have a choice."

"As if you'll say no, pervert." She harrumphs, raising my arm and twirling whimsically as if we were dancing.

"You're a pervert too, you know." I laugh, pinning her against the wall and stealing a kiss, unable to stop myself with the way she is behaving. It's not everyday that I see her adorable side, after all.

She blushes and pokes my cheek. "It's your fault."

"Of course it is." Giving her one more kiss, I step back and climb down the spiralling stairs.

When we enter the common room, she separates from me and finds herself a solitary corner to study in. And for once, I decide not to disturb her peace, particularly because I have something very interesting to check on.

Iris Evans

Level: 17

Beauty Tier: A

Seduction: 80%

Points Available: 4

Yes, the points have decreased from five to four. That means I must have gotten it. I'm assuming I don't get the points all at once after sex. It is offered to me for reaching milestones in a relationship. And getting to first base with my sister certainly counts.

'Profile'

Harry Evans

Level: 19

Points: 1

Perks: 6

[Vault]

— Anything you get from the Gacha Wheel can be safely stored by the system.

[Shield]

— Your mind and soul are protected; they are immune to foreign influence.

[Binder]

— The deals you make will always come to fruition. The other party cannot back out once they agree.

[Charmer]

— You are exceptionally affable and a popular subject for crushes.

[Anomaly]

— Women are fine with sharing you, allowing you to continue your conquest without facing the dreaded drama.

[God of Small Things]

— A perk that allows the user to practically become a genie. With this, the user can grant wishes. Only small things, of course—no immortality or world dominance, or anything like that. You become a god of small things, not big things. Maybe try turning water into wine, chump. Note: The user can only grant 5 wishes per day, and they cannot fulfil their own wish. Also, one person can only get one wish in a day. No retries.

My assumption is correct; I did get one point. And now it's time for the lottery. Let's hope I finally get an offensive skill that I've been craving from the beginning. Increased magical power or some sort of enhancement don't sound too bad.

'Menu.'

[Profile]

[Skills]

[Gacha Wheel]

[Help]

'Gacha Wheel.'

The white circle forms in the centre of my vision, and I press on the [Roll] button below it.

Skill Obtained: [Heal] (Rarity: Rare)

— Allows the user to heal any wounds or sickness. Of course, you can't heal the dead into living. That's necromancy, chump.

Hmm, while I don't like that I missed the chance to get an offensive skill again, this supporting ability is too good to remain annoyed. I can exploit it so easily. It has made me a cure-all healer. I already have an idea of who I can exploit using it.

"What are you grinning about?" Hermione asks, snapping her fingers before my face.

I blink and force my smile to shrink. "Nothing, just remembered an old joke. Come on, follow me, I'll tell you in private."

"And you can't do that here?" She scoffs, letting me drag her out of the common room.

"I'm not into exhibitionism," I say dryly, hinting at what is actually going to happen.

Her cheeks darken, and she hastens.

~xXxXx~

The next morning, there's a commotion in the Gryffindor common room. Boys and girls gather around the bulletin board to stare at an intriguing piece of announcement.

Genie For Hire

Attention, attention, all you dreamers and seekers

Do you want to make your life more exciting and easier?

Do you have a wish that you want to come true?

Then come and meet the genie who can do it for you

Note: The fee is 10 galleons. And I will only fulfil three people's wishes per day. So hurry, lest you miss your chance.

— Harry Evans

"What's Harry doing? Is this a prank or something?" Seamus mutters, eyeing the flyer with scepticism.

Dean frowns, scratching his chin. "It must be. You can't expect me to believe it's true."

Ron shakes his head, unable to talk about his own experience. "It's Harry we are talking about. Has he ever pranked anyone?"

The same sentiments are shared among everyone else.

Is this a joke? But Harry Evans is a responsible lad, a Prefect even, and he isn't the sort to enact such childish pranks. But he can't really make people's wishes come true, can he?

~xXxXx~

The room I have chosen for this new endeavour is at the bottom of the Gryffindor Tower, in the corridor that connects us to the rest of the castle.

It's a precaution to keep the location of House Gryffindor hidden. I may expand this 'Genie for Hire' thing in other houses too. So if I choose a room near the painting of the Fat Lady, some clever folks may join the dots and discover the secret entrance. Though I'm ninety-nine percent sure that older students from other houses are already in the know. Whatever, I did my duty, and that should be enough.

I also chose this room for its lack of furniture. There were no desks or benches clogging the floor. It was entirely empty, leaving the vast chamber bare and spacious. And one wall was lined with large windows, offering excellent ventilation. It's as perfect as I can get. And I just had to grab a single desk and a pair of chairs from nearby classrooms to make it functional, which was easily done.

Thus is the creation of the 'Genie For Hire' office.

Right now, it's afternoon, following the conclusion of the classes. And I'm sitting in my spartan chair with my elbows tucked on the armrests, waiting for the first person to scurry in for a magical wish. There have been queries throughout the day from my housemates, but I kept mum and refused to answer. They will have to come here to know more.

Why am I doing this? Why am I advertising my ability?

Simple, fame. Fame should allow me to increase the pool of people I normally interact with. And I need to expand my social circle if I really want to exploit my powers. Sex is a currency for all practicality. And my entire system is fueled by it. I need this scheme to attract people to me, to know me.

Obviously, I'm aware that it may get shut down by the professors if it gets too chaotic. But I'm prepared for it too. The demand for a service that gets banned skyrockets like nothing else. And if that happens, desperate people with real desires will be willing to pay anything.

There's a knock on the door.

"Come in." I sit straight and stare as the first sceptic makes its way to the desk.

She is slim with medium-length ginger hair, which is tied in a single braid over her shoulder. Her dark brown eyes are brimming with confidence as she regards me with curiosity, doubt, and a hint of hope.

She is dressed in a blue, full-sleeve top and skinny jeans. And her gait is self-assured and elegant. I can see why she is so popular among the boys, even though she is not the best-looking.

Ginny Weasley

Level: 16

Beauty Tier: B

Seduction: 5%

Points Available: 3

"Harry." She plops down in the chair in front of the desk and leans forward. "I heard you've become a genie."

"Something like that," I say wryly. "Do you have the fees?"

She wrinkles her nose and fishes out ten galleons from her pocket. "Just so you know, I'll curse you if you're trying to scam me."

I chuckle.

"I'm surprised you are able to afford my services; no offence." I sweep the coins and drop them in the drawer.

"Ron. He gave it to me." She shrugs, lounging in the chair. "I would be guarding this money with my life if he hadn't convinced me to trust you. I wonder if you're the reason he suddenly became rich."

"Who knows." I offer her a secretive smile. "At least he is a good brother to share his treat."

"You mean obnoxious and overprotective."

I push a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill across the desk. "Most brothers are. Anyways, sign it so we can proceed further."

She narrows her eyes, sitting up alert, and reads it aloud. "I agree not to share the details of the event that takes place in this room."

"Sounds reasonable, I hope. You can talk with others and tell them if you got your wish or not. But you cannot tell them how I did it. That must remain a secret." I expand upon it. Honestly, it's not even necessary. It's not like she herself will know how I did it. But a certain air of mystery is always nice to have. And I am curious how tall the lies and the legends will be when there won't be truth in supply.

Will I be the devil or the son of God?

Ginny waves her wand over the parchment, using a spell to identify if I'm hiding any demands under invisibility.

Smart girl.

Once she is sure it's safe to sign, she picks up the quill and scrawls at the bottom of the parchment. "Done."

"Good." I get up and walk around the desk. "Stand up and come before me."

She does so, confused, but smacks my hands away when I try to touch her face. "What are you doing?"

"I need to touch your face while I ask for your wish. It helps me confirm what you think you want." I utter the lie without a lick of shame, raising my hands towards her head again, my [Touch] skill on. I'm definitely using this opportunity to raise her seduction level, however slight the growth may be.

She huffs but lets me cup her face, her cheeks reddening as soon as my fingers press on her skin.

I want to draw her closer and brush my body against her feminine one, but I remain 'professional'. "What do you desire?"

She gulps and stares up at me resolutely. "I want the Firebolt."

Ah, of course. Quidditch girls and their obsession with brooms.

I feel my [God of Small Things] perk activating, and her wish is granted.

I step back as the broom materialises right in front of her.

Catching it with a gaping mouth and quivering hands, she gawks at it for half a minute before releasing a girly squeal.

I wince at the loud noise, but do embrace her back when she throws her arms around me.

With the way things are going, I may need to get used to getting hugged. Not that I mind, of course. Who would say no to a pretty girl clinging to him?

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She goes on, squeezing me, pressing her contours against me.

I think her breasts are larger than Hermione's—just slightly. Obviously, I can't say that with full confidence unless she takes off her top. And I don't think she is that grateful yet.

When she pulls back, she is grinning. "Bloody hell, you are a real genie. I can't believe it."

I merely smile and return to my seat. "No, I am Harry. You are Ginny."

She groans and slumps in her chair with the broom. "I'll ignore the bad joke. That's the least I can do after this lovely present."

If Ron had been able to tell her what he had wished for, she might have asked for 1000 galleons instead. With that, she could have bought the broom and still have 400 galleons left in her possession.

Since it didn't happen, I can confirm that my [Binder] perk is working properly and forcing Ron and others to keep quiet about that meeting, not that I had any doubt about its power in the first place. I have come to trust my system. And I know it will do whatever it says.

Ginny gives one more grateful look before skipping out of the room.

Ginny Weasley

Level: 16

Beauty Tier: B

Seduction: 35%

Points Available: 3

Hmm, 30% increase. Not bad—not bad at all.

~xXxXx~

My next client comes fifteen minutes later.

Dean Thomas

Level: 18

Beauty Tier: B

Seduction: 0%

Points Available: 3

Dean sits down before me with an eager grin. "I must warn you that there's a long queue waiting outside. Ginny's new broom is good enough proof of your credibility."

I shrug. "Only three people will get lucky today. After you, there'll be only one."

Actually, I can fulfil five people's wishes in a day, but two wishes are already reserved for my sisters, who are instructed to ask for 1000 galleons each. It's my simple plan to accumulate economy-destroying wealth.

This price of 10 galleons per wish, on the other hand, is just a psychological move to make me seem more reliable and proficient. After all, giving free wishes is strange and suspicious, but making a business out of it is not. Welcome to capitalism.

I offer him the parchment, and he signs it without any hesitation, giving me ten galleons.

"So, Dean, what do you desire?" I ask, leaning forward on my elbows.

"Promise me not to laugh," he mumbles, averting his gaze.

I rein in my annoyance. "Just tell me."

He tells me.

I blink at his incoherent whisper. "Come again?"

He sighs and says with an emotionless face, "Make my penis slightly smaller than its actual size. It's too big."

…

…

My lips twitch, and I barely bite back my incredulous laughter. That's some issue. Isn't the problem usually the other way around? I know my fellow roommates thoroughly. I know some of them are juvenile enough to increase their penis size. But asking me to shrink it? Now, that is beyond unexpected.

Still, my perk thrums in acknowledgement, and I nod stiffly. "It is done."

"Really?" He jumps from his seat.

"Yes. I am sure."

He lets out a shy, relieved smile and scampers away.

A strange encounter—very strange encounter. But a valuable one.

Now I know I can't only grant physical things but also change others' body types too. I wonder if I can make someone more beautiful and promote them to an upper tier. Something I will only try if someone directly asks for it. I won't be changing my sisters' forms. Forcing them to make this wish will shatter their confidence and make them self-conscious. And I am not that cruel. Some things are just not worth it, like destroying my sisters' souls for experiments.

~xXxXx~

My last client is… Ron Weasley.

"No, Ron. Don't be too greedy. Let someone else in." I sigh and shoo him away.

He grins shamelessly and leaves. "I had to try it."

Of course, Ron. Of course.

The actual last client is Katie Bell.

Her light-brown hair is cut at shoulder length. Her hazel eyes gleam as she crosses the distance between the door and the desk. She is wearing a black crop top and denim shorts, baring her smooth limbs for my eyes.

"Hiya, Harry," she greets with her ever-present smile and takes the chair across from me.

She is one of the few people in my house who I actually like and respect. She has always been kind and playful throughout my stay here, mustering a bright smile every time our eyes met. It won't be a lie to say that I have a little bit of a crush on her. Of course, my admiration for her can be attributed to receiving a drop of attention from an older, pretty girl. I am self-aware.

Katie Bell

Level: 21

Beauty Tier: B

Seduction: 0%

Points Available: 3

"I hope my sister is not being too much of a headache." I slide the parchment towards her as she tosses me a small sack of coins.

She lets out a short, amused laugh while signing the parchment. "No more than usual."

"And I assume you want a Firebolt too." I rise to my feet and move around the desk.

"Now you're a mind reader too?" Her gaze follows me.

I stop behind her and gesture to her to get up. "No, you Quidditch fanatics are just too predictable."

"Ouch." She stands before me, one of the few girls who is tall enough to look me in the eye without craning her neck.

"I'll have to cup your face. A part of the process, I'm afraid."

"Alright." She smiles and steps closer, close enough for her round breasts to graze me. The first thing I notice is the enticing scent of wet earth—of petrichor. It makes me want to press my nose into her neck. To feel the heat and inhale her scent.

I cup her face, my [Touch] skill on.

The only reaction I get is the furrowing of her brows.

"What do you desire?"

Her smile turns into a mirthful grin. And I hope I wasn't too corny. What do you desire? Such a dorky thing to say. I'm never going to use it again.

"Firebolt."

She gasps when it actually materialises in her hands. "I don't know why I am surprised."

"Congratulations are in order, I suppose."

She leaves the broom in one hand and gives me a tight hug. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."

I take the opportunity to bury my face in her hot neck while embracing her back, starting to feel horny from this simple gesture, from this simple scent. Katie has that effect on me. Somehow, she radiates pure sex appeal, even with her tomboyish appearance.

She pulls back and pats my cheek. "If Quidditch wasn't cancelled this year, we would have won simply because we have three Firebolts in the team. My imaginary version is grateful to you for helping us win the imaginary Quidditch Cup."

"Sure, sure."

"Say, can I do anything to return the favour?" She shifts from one foot to another, looking uncomfortable. "Seems like cheating, getting such an expensive broom for ten galleons."

"Don't worry about it." I wave off her concern, sitting on the desk in front of her. "But if you feel too bad, then just agree to let me take you on a date. I think Hogsmeade Weekends will start in the first week of October. What say you?"

She opens her mouth and shuts it. "Me? Really? You should look for someone better. I know you're inexperienced in this department, but believe me, you'll be a hot commodity. Anyone will say yes."

I roll my eyes, not wanting to deal with her self-esteem issues. "Then you're saying yes; I take it. Because I asked you whether you want to or not rather than whether you think you're best for me or not."

She pulls on her short hair sheepishly. "Sure. I don't mind going on a date with you."

"Good. Keep your schedule clear on the first Hogsmeade weekend, I guess."

"Alrighty. I'll now go and drop this bomb on Rose. I can already imagine her face." She chuckles and walks away.

Katie Bell

Level: 21

Beauty Tier: B

Seduction: 40%

Points Available: 3

So easy.

Self-conscious girls are so easy to please.

"Shop's closed. Come back tomorrow," I say to loud groans of disappointment.

Dean was right.

There really is a queue outside the room.