Chapter 47

Oh, Merlin." Narcissa breathed as she stepped into the Leaky Cauldron room. The smell swept through her senses, the heady heady and intensely carnal scent of Harry's cum, mixed with soaking pussy and sweat.

Tracey was stunned and unconscious on the floor, but on the bed…

Narcissa swallowed. Daphne lay, passed out. She had one stiletto heel on and ripped laddered stockings, and that was all. Her face was nestled into a pair of cum-pooled green panties, like Harry had tried to wipe her face clean and then given up.

No wonder — Daphne was a mess, her face, hair and body covered in strings and pools of thick, wet cum. Her hair matted to her face, her face stuck to a stained pillow, her makeup smeared.

She looked like a used whore, her puffy red nipples peeking above the cum-ribbons, like mountain peaks through the cloud.

And between her spread thighs, Harry's creamy cum oozed from her swollen pussy, dripping into a big pool on the sheets.

Harry, Narcissa mused, was not going to get his deposit back on this room.

No wonder he'd called for her. The long wait he'd done for Daphne had made him unleash some pent-up frustrations — it looked like he'd filled her cunt, came on her face and perhaps again on her tits and stomach.

It was difficult to tell with Harry — this could all be the result of one load.

Narcissa took a deep breath in, drinking in the taste in the air itself. She stripped to her underwear, since there was no way of climbing on the dirtied sheets without staining her dress.

Slowly, she crawled toward the crime scene. Daphne's red lips were puffy, lipstick smeared — Harry had not been gentle. And her hair was clumped together, the girl's beautiful hair now matted and frizzled, knotted with cum. He'd probably wiped his cock with her.

Narcissa bit her lip. She could imagine it all, seeing the evidence.

He hadn't been gone long — her face was still covered in glistening wet jizz, from cheek to chin.

"At least he left satisfied." She muttered, seeing the state of the girl. Daphne was sleeping or passed out, she wasn't sure which, but it would make this easier all the same.

Narcissa wasn't proud of her hunger for Harry's cum, but she couldn't deny it, either. And without the prim girl to judge her, she could get started.

She parted the girl's legs even further and dipped between them. Narcissa breathed her in, pressing her face against Daphne's pounded pussy, rubbing her face against the obscene mess. The spatters of cum on her thigh, the almost-reflections of Greengrass' own juices, but all of that was nothing compared to the river of dense milky cum dribbling from her swollen cunt.

She pressed her lips against it, shuddering with pleasure as she licked and slurped. But when she sucked some of the cum up, she realized that this river had two sources.

"What the fuck?" She muttered. She parted the thick globules of seed with her hand…and realized that Daphne's asshole was oozing cum too, a ring stretched and used. Her plump asscheeks were red with fingerprints.

"No…" Narcissa mumbled, feeling light-headed. Her chest ached. Harry had never…he'd taken every which way, but never like that.

But why?

Did he not like her ass? Did he not love her? Had she not shown him that she'd love him in every way possible, fulfill his every fantasy?

The more she thought about it, the more she looked at Daphne's used bottom, the more it upset her. Daphne had something of Harry's that she didn't.

Her, Harry's first, his most. She blinked and realized she was crying. She swallowed and realized she had a lump in her throat.

Slowly, she gathered herself.

You have to be strong.

She couldn't lose her place in Harry's heart to this new girl, this beautiful girl who'd be his wife, who'd somehow already claimed a unique role as Harry's 'ass-girl'.

Daphne would have to be taught a lesson. First, she needed the girl off-kilter.

She renewed her efforts, pressing her face back into the filthy mess.

"Mmm," Daphne purred sleepily as she woke. "Harry, don't make Tracey do that—"

"Not Tracey, not Harry." Narcissa said firmly, spreading the girl's thighs wider.

She enjoyed Daphne's shriek, her look of alarm and shock as she sat up straight. Daphne tried to her snap her legs shut, to wriggle away, but Narcissa's grip was firm. She had plenty of practice holding Helena in place.

"Oh, fuck!" Daphne squeaked. "W-what are you doing?!"

Narcissa sniffed primly, as best she could when her face was coated in cum and when she was looking up at the younger girl from the junction of her dripping pussy. "Harry ordered me here to clean you up. And you are his now, aren't you?"

Daphne gaped, trying to pull herself up the bed. "Yes, but I don't want—stop that!" She gasped as Narcissa slurped noisily.

"I'm doing what our Harry wants." She glared. "Harry likes his girls to obey."

Daphne's blue eyes broiled with feeling, but whatever she said got cut off by a sudden 'oh' when Narcissa slithered her tongue firmly into the girl's cunt.

The young Greengrass beauty shrieked and whimpered out a chorus of warnings and threats, but her resistance was undermined by the cute biting of her puffy lips, by the rolling of her hips, and finally her head fell back onto the pillow, her fight gone. Narcissa smiled in triumph, suckling a particularly big globule from her thigh.

"He really used you." She commented after smacking her lips. "Like a Knockturn Alley whore."

Daphne's hands scrunched up the sheets. "Maybe he enjoyed having someone younger." She said icily.

Narcissa snorted, accidentally taking some jizz up her nostrils. "When you're older, you can learn to be more than just a set of holes for him to empty himself at. You can, believe it or not, try and pleasure him at the same time."

Daphne scowled down at her, but her toes curled as Narcissa licked over her clit. "H-he seemed pretty happy for our first time. And as his wife, I'm sure I'll get plenty of practice."

Narcissa glared. "As his Mistress, I already have. But if you don't want advice on pleasing him, then by all means…" She trailed off and then, with a deep breath for courage, she attached herself to the girl's seeping asshole, lips stretched around her rosebud and tongue delving in. A creamy flow of viscous creampie streamed into her mouth, like the foam from the top of a Butterbeer.

"Oh, Merlin fucking fuck—" Daphne screeched, her hips arching from the bed, fingers clawing the sheets. "Do we—I mean," She breathed heavily. "Did he really ask for this?"

Harry hadn't, but Daphne didn't need to know that. "It won't be - mmmph — the first time." Narcissa said, her voice muffled.

Daphne wrinkled her nose. "H-how can you just—"

"Experience." Narcissa peeked up, well aware her face was covered. "I can tell you how to do everything Harry wants but…" She trailed off teasingly.

Daphne was silent for a moment. "What do you want?"

Got you. She wiped her lips. "I want the memory of you and him for my Pensieve." She paused. "And I want you to put an image in his head of you and I together."

Daphne goggled at her, speechless. "Y-you want that?"

Narcissa gave her a flat look. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't want him to forget his Mistress for his new wife. And like it or not, given our roles, we need to work together."

Daphne blinked rapidly, her head falling back to the pillow as Cissy continued her diligent clean-up work, making the Slytherin beauty shudder. "I can't believe y-you're like this, now. It's unbelievable. I used to admire you, at the parties. You looked so composed, so in control—"

Narcissa trailed her finger up the girl's creamy cunt, her eyebrow raised. "You can't feel him? You can't imagine why I've changed?"

Daphne fell silent. "You're right. I'll…I'll give you the memory."

Cissy gave her a firm pat on the pussy, to make her tremble, to get her attention. "This is the basics on Harry."

Despite her compromising situation, Daphne listened eagerly.

"He expects food on the table, whatever the time. Five-thirty, hot dinner. Midnight, hot dinner." She rolled her eyes fondly. "House elves help, but at the end of the day, he wants dinner served by his wife, cooked with love, and to eat with you."

Daphne nodded, wincing as Narcissa began to scoop up the splatters of cum. "Do you have to do that right now—never mind. Mother used to give Father a back rub while he ate."

Cissy smirked. "Harry prefers a blow job, but a massage works too." She snapped her fingers. "Blowjobs! Lots of noise, lots of saliva, let him know you're enjoying it. It gets messy," She wrinkled her nose in amusement. "But you know that already."

"Hah-bloody-hah." Daphne grumped.

"Remember, Harry hates thinking that he's the only one getting any pleasure out of it."

Daphne frowned. "Isn't he?"

Cissy looked at her, unimpressed. "You've tasted him, haven't you?"

Daphne blushed. "Good point." Her tongue darted to the side of her lips subconsciously, to the cum that glazed her face.

"He wants a clean house." Narcissa continued. "I'm not talking carpets and counters. I mean not bothering him with the small stuff. He doesn't care about the gazebo breaking in the storm, or the landscaping team coming next week, or the charms on the fridge faltering. We manage the house and he doesn't need to know about it."

Daphne nodded. "Okay. Do I still tell him about my day? And can I put on some clothes now?"

"Harry told me to clean you up." The Malfoy mother said firmly. "And you're still leaking."

Daphne blushed. "I think that'll be the case for the next week."

Narcissa ignored her. "You tell him that you missed him. You tell him you thought about him all day. And then you tell him that Lady Selwyn threw a garden party, and Lady Blishwick said her sex life is nonexistent."

"Why would Harry care?"

Narcissa jutted her thumb firmly into Daphne's lower lips, causing the girl to squeak. "Because if Lord Blishwick isn't fucking his wife, then he's at the brothel with the whores, which means there's blackmail leverage. Harry needs to know that."

Daphne's mouth formed an 'O'. "But what about Lady Blishwick?"

Narcissa did a double take. "Who cares? You're in his family now, that takes precedence over all friends. A good wife puts her family first." She swept her platinum blonde hair behind her. "Your mother is planning your wedding, it'll be at the Greengrass home. She wants to fly the Greengrass flag a little higher than the Potter flag."

Daphne shrugged. "Okay? Harry's not going to care."

"No, not okay." Narcissa scowled. "Your family is still your family, but you need to care more about Harry now, about House Black and House Potter."

"But Harry won't care—"

"But people will notice, and they'll wonder who wears the trousers in your relationship." Narcissa chided. "Let me tell you a story about your mother."

"My mother?"

"She had friends who Peter didn't like, so she got rid of them. There's a curse breaker who travels the world, pretty lady, she gets rare potions ingredients for your House. Your father took a liking to her—"

"He did?" Daphne said slowly.

"So your mother used her personal allowance to purchase this curse breaker's flat from her landlord. She ups the rent and guess what?" Narcissa said, clamping her hands down on the girl's thighs. "Now, when she comes to town to sell her rare ingredients, she also gives your dad a few hours in freebies."

"What? My parents did that?" Daphne said with amazement, looking a little sick.

"And that woman was Cynthia's friend." Narcissa emphasized. "You understand?"

"It's a mean world, huh?" Daphne said slowly.

"It doesn't have to be. Lean on me." She told her. "I've got plenty of experience running a big House."

Daphne looked at her with more than a little irritation. "It's not like I'm a Muggle. I was brought up to marry well. I know these things."

"Do you?" She asked softly. "How are you going to react if someone comes and asks you for a loan?"

"I wouldn't bother Harry with it." Daphne said confidently.

"Wrong. Purebloods are the biggest lender of loans after Gringotts. The goblins need to run like a responsible bank, with Ministry regulation and oversight. But we can loan out with more aggressive interest rates and less paperwork." Narcissa smiled coldly. "And more punishing methods for non-payment. If someone wants money, Harry needs to know."

Daphne was struck silent. "What would you do, then?"

"Personally?" Narcissa paused. "If I got a shopkeeper telling me they needed a loan, I'd tell Lucius. Lucius would send some thugs to break their shop up and burn their merchandise. Suddenly, that same shopkeeper doesn't just need a loan, he's offering equity for investment and protection."

Daphne's eyes widened. "I have a lot to learn, it seems." She said quietly.

"But remember, that's the Malfoy playbook. Marrying Harry Potter is a different story — your actions don't just reflect on him, they are him. People will presume that everything you do, he ordered. You speak with his voice. If you pull the same trick Lucius did and those thugs get caught and start squealing, it's a massive black mark on Harry's name."

"I understand." Daphne nodded. "Give me another test case."

Narcissa thought about it. She was glad the younger girl was looking to her for advice, at least. "Let's say you want to get Harry a gift for Christmas, and you want to get him some Mudblood — Muggleborn girls, I mean. Girls he can be rough with and not worry about bruising."

Daphne took a shaky breath. "Is that expected of me? Harry seems to get enough sex as it is." She scowled. "I mean, can't he just use…me? Or you, I mean."

Narcissa scoffed. "Harry's still a man, honey. Trust me, you're going to need help in the bedroom. Or are you telling me you'll be up for a repeat right now? Because believe me, Harry is."

Daphne winced, trying to shift her aching body. "I get your point."

"Don't forget," Her fingernails dug into the girl's thigh. "Harry needs girls to grow stronger. His safety depends on it."

"Okay, okay!" Daphne hesitated. "I umm…blackmail or pay some girls for a night."

"Wrong." Cissy said solemnly. "Muggleborn girls have no sense of pureblood politics or noble propriety, of keeping things out of the public eye. They'll go mouthing off about Harry, good or bad, and the story gets around. Maybe Rita writes an article about Potter paying for sex."

"But…" Daphne trailed off, hanging her head.

Narcissa snapped her fingers. "You offer them a temporary job in the House. Consulting, babysitting, housesitting, magic research, anything. Then you get them to sign an Unbreakable Vow not to say anything." She pursed her lips. "To be honest, if you want girls for Harry, just come to me. You can lean on me for a lot of things."

"I know how to do some of the expected things." Daphne argued. "I can operate in high society, I've been taught."

"Have you?" Narcissa said doubtfully. "It's different being a wife than a daughter. You have to make friends with all of the wives, you have to charm every husband." She sat up on her knees. "Let's say a conservative pureblood Lord comes to you at a party. He says Harry is Dumbledore's pet, that he isn't protecting pureblood interests. What do you say?"

Daphne gnawed on her lip. "He's doing what's right for Britain."

"No." She shook her head. "He doesn't want political platitudes. This isn't a common voter, this is the Lord of a powerful conservative family."

Daphne tried again. "Harry values traditions more than anything — that's why he married me, because he wanted his wife, the mother of his children, to value those same traditions. Believe me, he wants to protect our institutions and our traditions, more than you know, even if he has to tiptoe in public, in papers." She looked unsurely at Narcissa.

"Perfect." Cissy clapped her hands. "It's always a good idea to make it seem like Harry's putting on a front for the mainstream — people love to think they're in on the secret, that they're getting the joke."

Daphne nibbled on her lip. "There's a lot to think about."

"You're not going to get much sympathy — there's few witches with as much power as Lady Black."

"Nor as much responsibility."

Cissy smacked her wet lips. "I think you can see the privileges." She said dryly.

Daphne rubbed at her brow. "I feel like I've got a snake baring its fangs right over my clit — forgive me if I don't feel grateful yet."

"Wait til Harry brings out the parseltongue — I almost went to St Mungos."

"I was speaking metaphorically." Daphne muttered.

"Speaking in tongues, you could say." Narcissa wiggled her tongue mischievously, showcasing the messy cocktail in her mouth.

Daphne didn't look amused.

Cissy laughed. "Relax — remember, the weight of the House is on Harry's shoulders, not yours. Your job is to support him. And, as much as I hate to admit it, my job is to support you. When in doubt, you talk to me, you talk to Harry."

"Really?"

"I'm sure I don't have to explain to a Greengrass that a noble House is a network. Even though your father runs your estate, he still employs accountants, lawyers — Merlin, everyone from gardeners to tutors. Right?"

Daphne winced as another flow of cum began trickling out of her. "Harry's House will be run a little differently, I'm guessing."

"Wives, Mistresses, concubines, researchers." Narcissa confirmed. "But it's a support network all the same."

"A network I can trust?" Daphne said doubtfully.

"Not al—mmm, he tastes so good—not always." Narcissa said truthfully, eyes closed in bliss. "Want to know the good news?"

"I can get dressed and we can pretend this never happened?" Daphne grimaced, trembling under Cissy's talented tongue.

"No. You're the wife. You get the most access to him, the most influence. If one of his girls fucks you over, you talk to Harry, she loses her cushy position, her money, her standing. You can trust that the other girls don't want that, if nothing else. You have the power."

Daphne winced as Narcissa hooked her finger inside, like she was cleaning a water flask. "First order then — how long does recovery take? I feel like I've been hit with the Hogwarts Express…and then it reversed."

The older woman laughed. "He'll probably be more gentle in the future, unless he thinks you really like it rougher."

"Fuck." Daphne muttered. "Can't exactly lie, since you're going to see it in the Pensieve. He had me screaming like Warbeck's backup banshees."

Narcissa smiled proudly. "Harry is a man in every sense."

"And the sex is going to be the easiest part, from the sound of it." Daphne groaned. She let her head flop back onto the pillow, her hips circling slowly as Cissy lapped at her asshole. She smiled up at the ceiling. "I'm excited, though. This is what it's all about. Supporting a good man." Daphne arched her hips up to meet Narcissa's tongue, her hands leaving the sheets to slide through the older woman's hair. "The best man." Daphne added softly.

Narcissa pushed her back. "I see that you're getting used to your position quickly. Don't let it go to your head." Her lips pressed together thinly.

Daphne's eyes snapped open. The younger girl clutched onto Narcissa's hair tightly. "Why do you want the Pensieve memory?"

Cissy glared. "I just like seeing him in action. Wouldn't you want to see him in all his glory?"

"But he has your daughter, doesn't he? He told me." Daphne said slowly. "You can indulge your…little fetish anytime."

Cissy was silent too long, because Daphne's smile grew. The younger girl reached under her pillow and withdrew a gleaming emerald buttplug. "He hasn't taken you like this, has he? That's why. Because I already have something you don't."

Daphne just laughed at Narcissa's withering glare. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Narcissa snapped. "I've had him in more ways than you can possibly imagine. We've made love, we've traveled, we've—"

"But never back there." Daphne realized. She held the plug close to the older woman's face. "He's had me using this for weeks."

"It's hardly something to be proud—"

Daphne shrugged. "Isn't it? A permanent reminder of him, a token of his lust—"

Narcissa grabbed her necklace and held it up. "I have a token of his love."

Daphne smirked. "That's cute. I'll have his ring, soon." She examined her fingers mockingly.

"You're awfully arrogant, for the new girl."

Daphne sneered down. "You're quite stuck up, for the Mistress that just sucked his seed from my behind. Tell me, is that high society etiquette too?" Daphne smiled in satisfaction. "I bet Harry just wanted to give you a lesson in rank, didn't he?"

Narcissa smiled sweetly back. "Who said he ordered me to?"

Daphne's face went blank. "But—"

"He told me to clean up, he didn't say how. We'll always obey him, but we can decide what that looks like." Narcissa withdrew and muttered an incantation — the soiled sheets twisted around Daphne's hands and ankles, tying her to the bed.

She grabbed the cum-pooled panties and stuffed them into Daphne's mouth before she could shout. Narcissa let the cum she'd gathered on her own tongue dribble out over the girl's face. " Get it? Wife or no wife, be very fucking careful, because Harry can't protect you." She said coldly.

Narcissa sighed with contentment as she finger-painted Harry's seed over Daphne's face. "See, when you complain to Harry about this? I'll tell him the truth. I was helping you — his cum makes us stronger, more connected to him. The more sex we have with him, the power he can pull from our bonds, the more memories we take from him, he takes from us."

She leaned in close, her tongue extending to lick from her skin, like glaze from a doughnut. "My final lesson? Why I was so happy to clean you up, my way? Because his cum is gold. It's our currency to buy time with Harry, to push our name onto a rota Harry doesn't even know about." She licked Daphne's nose. "We barter, fight, trade and blackmail for it, for time with him. Apolline gets fucked the most, because she trades her sex tips."

Narcissa clicked her fingers. "Granger just got bath-time with him because she gives out tips on making him laugh, stories about his younger years."

She shifted herself above the wide-eyed girl, hoisting up her skirt as she sat herself down firmly over the girl's face. She cradled the girl's head roughly. "We're obsessed with making him happy, and the more of his seed we take, the safer he is, the happier he is. Understand?"

She rocked back and forth, grinding her wet cunt against Daphne's face. "All the girls will hate you, slut, because you'll get the one thing we all secretly want. The vow of marriage, that bond of forever love."

Narcissa sighed as her pussy drowned out Daphne's gurgles. "But when he comes home, it's to my house. He comes to my bedroom, and I decide who he finds in it. I decide who's there when he eats, to rub his back, to feed him, to blow him. I decide who wakes him up with their lips around his dick, and I decide who fucks him to sleep."

Narcissa slapped the girl's face, the loud crack resonating in the room. "So if you fuck with me, something goes wrong. The Floo stops working, the wards accidentally block you, the owl doesn't reach you in time. You turn up in a dress when he's ordered everyone to wear a school uniform. You wear blue when he's asked for pink. You wear cheekies when he's asked for thongs."

Daphne was choking, her face red, but Narcissa paid no mind as she rocked herself towards nirvana, one hand on the bed-frame to steady herself as she fucked Daphne's face, the wood creaking in the rhythm of her satisfied moans.

"Yes!" She cried finally as she flooded Daphne's face with a glistening spray, reaching her well-deserved climax. Daphne was a mess — hair matted with cum, face glistening with Cissy's squirt, skin red, eyes bulging.

Even still, she was beautiful, Narcissa thought with irritation.

She squeezed the girl's cheeks to make her eyes bulge all the more.

"Learn the lesson." Narcissa said harshly. "Stay in line, know your place. Don't rock the broomstick. I'm still Narcissa Malfoy." She plucked the panties from the girl's mouth and as Daphne gasped and spluttered, heaving for breath, she leaned in to the girl's ear. "And if you think my sister is the fanatic, evil, bitch of the family, it's only because you haven't met me yet. This? This is me playing nice."

###

When she returned to Hogwarts, Daphne placed her wand on her pillow, so it wouldn't spark. Then, she sat on her bed, placed her hands on her knees and seethed.

Her fists clenched, but she wouldn't scream.

She wouldn't lose control.

She was Daphne Greengrass. And while she may be a very changed Daphne Greengrass since twenty four hours ago, or even six months ago, she was still an educated, sophisticated, lady.

She may have learned some things about herself — she was head over heels, brain-fuzzy, ten love potions deep, would die for him and be grateful for the opportunity, obsessed with Harry Potter.

She loved getting…boarded in the rear carriage, she couldn't deny. And she was, ready or not, a wife to be. A fiancee, basically, even if all Harry had given her was the emerald plug in her behind, not a ring.

But even with all these things, even though Harry made her beg to be taken in the bottom, had wiped his cock with her hair, it didn't mean that she found it acceptable to be second place in anything, to anybody.

Especially second place in being Harry's.

It simply wouldn't do.

And while queen bitch Malfoy seemed to enjoy being captain of the Harry's Head Harpies, it didn't mean Daphne had to accept being the new girl in last place.

It was time to rise up the ranks.

First step — she had to ensure her competition stayed in their place. Hannah was a gormless fat-titted breeding cow, and Daphne would be happy for Harry's harem to be filled with girls like her, but she was always an easy route to Susan Bones.

That simply wouldn't do.

Susan Bones wouldn't be good for Harry. Her dead Aunt made her less politically useful, and the girl would handcuff Harry with her blind morality, her loyalty to losers.

Anything that put Harry in danger was unacceptable, and darling Harry wouldn't see Bones for the poisoned chalice she was, blinded by the girl's admittedly full figure and ample chest. He'd be less powerful and less safe with Susan's goody two-shoes nonsense, which meant Daphne would have to nip it in the bud.

Daphne snatched up her book-bag and took the steps up from the Slytherin dungeon two at a time. Susan would be leaving the Great Hall by now, and she had to catch her before the redhead went back to blubbering into her pillow.

While she walked, she planned her approach. Susan was a lot of things, but she was desperately, proudly, independent — the sort of girl who'd write with her fingernail rather than ask for a quill.

Just as planned, she saw a glimpse of the girl's red locks turning the corner close to the Hufflepuff common room, under the Great Hall and near the kitchens. Interestingly, she was coming from the hidden kitchens and not the Hall — ol' Susie was stress eating and didn't want to be seen, Daphne figured.

"Susan!"

The girl turned and frowned when she saw her, face wary. Daphne regretted her reputation — but soon she'd be Harry's wife. Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

"Daphne." Susan said evenly.

"I just wanted to say I'm so sorry to hear about your aunt." She said sympathetically. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thank you." The redhead said plainly.

"I am glad." Daphne shrugged. "Although, I suppose every cloud has a silver lining."

Susan's eyebrows drew in. "My aunt dying…" She said slowly, her face turning red. "Has a silver lining?"

"Oh, no, that was clumsy of me, wasn't it?" Daphne said sweetly. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, well, you know, Harry, his hero complex, he's so attracted to helpless little orphan girls. He might marry you out of pity, even with the political benefits having…jumped away."

Susan growled, her face set into a sneer. "Slither back into the fields, Greengrass. Or better yet, fall asleep in a bath. I don't want to hear anything from your forked tongue." She clenched her fists. "And I wouldn't want Harry's pity, either."

Daphne gave a mock gasp. "I didn't mean to offend. I'm just saying, I wouldn't blame you, that's all. Now you're all alone, I mean. I just figured, now he doesn't have the ability to talk business with your Auntie over family dinners—"

"Shut up!"

Daphne continued. "You'd realize that the opportunity is closing, right? I thought you'd be throwing yourself at him like a dirty slut, like your friend Hannah. I really admire your morals."

Susan vibrated in place — Daphne could practically see the steam pouring out of her ears. "I don't need Harry, or your Slytherin little power games, whatever this is. My family has a name and a voting bloc strong enough not to need him or you."

Daphne nodded thoughtfully. "The voting bloc that your aunt grew, right? The one that only trusts her, that signs twelve month deals to assign their votes to your control. What happens when those deals over?" She put a finger to her mouth innocently.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Susan snarled.

"Don't I?" Daphne shrugged. "Maybe not. But tick-tock goes the clock…I just hope Harry will still be interested in a few months, for your sake. Especially with your new…diet." She turned on her heel. "Don't worry. Maybe you've got a pet owl you can kill to keep Harry feeling sorry for you."

Daphne smirked as she walked away, hearing the shriek of rage from behind her. A Hufflepuff wouldn't curse her from behind, she knew, but Susan would stew about this encounter for the rest of the night.

And nothing would be a bigger turn off to Susan than the thought Harry would marry her out of charity.

"One down." She murmured.

###

Daphne viewed her new prey.

Cho Chang was in the library, as she often was. The front two tables of the library often had to displays — the first was a stack of common books the first years needed, because Pince was tired of babysitting the giggling kids while they searched every aisle.

The second was a spread of Daily Prophet papers from the last month, as well as some Quibbler tabloids. The Muggle Studies teacher Charity Burbage had started the practice unintentionally — she'd laid out an array of Muggle newspapers in an attempt to educate the purebloods, but Draco Malfoy and his goons had taken offense to that, and now the Slytherin students overlaid the Prophet every morning, just to hide the Muggle nonsense.

Which was why Cho Chang was in the library, ostensibly studying from thick textbooks, but also ensuring that the papers positioned most prominently just happened to be headlines about Cedric's affair with a gay rentboy.

Daphne would have given her some credit for the sordid and morally bankrupt lies that they undoubtedly were, but since she'd seen Harry and Cho falling out of a broom cupboard, she imagined it was Harry's idea.

It was his sort of deviousness — that was why she loved him.

And why she had to protect him — Cho Chang was beautiful, but she was a foreigner, new money tied to China. It would have been fine if she was to be one of Harry's whores. Daphne would have encouraged it, even — better his bedwarmers be exotic, rather than blonde and blue-eyed like her.

But this crude newspaper play, her pureblood status, her families' long and desperate attempt to fit in with the British noble society? No, Cho Chang was angling for a ring.

Harry's status in the political game would be shot — because whether it was right or not, whether it was because of the dreaded racism word, none of the old British families trusted the Chinese. What did they want? What gave the Chang family the power to throw money around as they had for decades now?

Harry could grant the name of Lady Potter to anyone, but she couldn't bear to see him crushed under the foot of the shadowy powers in China, all because he fell for Cho's pouty dick-sucking lips, the snap-shut trap of her desperate Chinese-clunge, like an Oriental Venomous Tentacula, except instead of injecting venom, it just sucked away his life, his House, his future.

Daphne wasn't racist.

She was a realist.

She perched herself on the table beside to Cho — the Ravenclaw had positioned herself right next to the paper table. Even though Chang had smartly rid herself of the DA traitor Edgecombe, she still had herself an entourage.

She was that sort of girl — the popular girl, the pretty girl, the one that had to make sure everyone knew it, all while acting demure and kind. She must have been livid when she was forced to act like a mourning wife, Daphne thought with amusement.

Fumbling the bag with Potter for a date with walking dead Diggory? That was an all-time fuck up, akin to Susan not jumping on the same dick that had her best friend walking like she'd been gang-banged by the whole Bulgarian Quidditch team.

Daphne winced as she perched on the table — after having Harry herself, she could sympathize with Hannah. Sitting down was going to be a no-no for a week.

Cho looked up from her book with a raised eyebrow.

"Chang." Daphne greeted, idly flipping through the old papers. CEDRIC'S GAY LOVER SPEAKS: LAST ROMP NIGHT BEFORE THIRD TASK LASTED LONGER THAN MY NEWTS.

Her lips twitched. Rita Skeeter had skills, it couldn't be denied.

The next paper shouted. RENTBOY'S TRAGIC TEARS: 'I WISH HE'D ENTERED ME, NOT THAT MAZE'.

That one was a little on the nose.

"Greengrass. What do you want?" Cho said, all her minions frowning in unison with her.

Daphne sighed theatrically, holding up the newspaper. "It's just so terrible, what they're saying about Cedric, isn't it?" She made sure her voice was loud, thankful the library was crowded. Everyone was stocking up on books they needed for their homework, before the Christmas break. "I mean, they're staining the name of your true love, the man that held your heart!"

Cho's smile was very tight and very thin. "It is terrible. I only knew him briefly, tragically—"

"Why," Daphne held a hand to her forehead, throwing her head back in dismay. "If I lost my first love, I would never marry again. I couldn't bear it!" She looked round at the watching students. "Morgana was made for Merlin, after all, wasn't she?"

Cho gritted her teeth, her smile fixed. "I'm grateful to have the strength to move on, and while I'll always miss him—"

"Oh, the tragedy of it!" Daphne cried. She waved her wand and conjured a black rose that she placed between the pages of Daphne's book. "Everyone!" She said loudly. "Christmas is coming, and a a moment of silence lets the Dark Lord win, so instead, let's give her a round of applause for the courage of this widow who will celebrate alone. The most romantic story of all, the woman watching the fireplace by the Christmas tree for the man that will never come!"

She held a hand to her chest.

"I'm not a fucking widow—" Cho muttered, but her words were drowned out by the clapping of the crowd. Daphne noticed her little sis Astoria was leading the applause, always in on the mischief. In fact, it was mostly the younger years that cheered. The older students kept out of it, smart enough to know that anything involving Daphne was dangerous.

"Merry Christmas, Cho." Daphne said sweetly. Her smile disappeared as she caught sight of an angry Madam Pince pushing through the students. "Time to go." She ducked, scampering away.

Mission accomplished.

###

The next girl, Daphne approached warily. Hermione Granger was in the owlery again, collecting her special order — another huge stack of hardcover books.

Daphne waited by the door as the Gryffindor girl excitedly unwrapped them.

"My first, first edition." Hermione giggled to herself.

Daphne rolled her eyes — this had all begun when the girl had been obviously claimed by Harry, wearing expensive robes and necklaces and Potter red ties, chokers, earrings or even socks. She'd started spending Harry's money — not on clothes or jewelry or putting one's enemy in the gutter, like any normal girl would, but on books.

Every night, Hermione would be seen trotting from the owlery, carrying a wobbly tower of big tomes. It was a big invitation to fuck with her — a Trip Jinx at the least, Daphne thought — but nobody wanted to fuck with Harry's girl, even if she was a Mudblood.

Daphne had no such compunctions — Hermione was dangerously smart, but that didn't mean she couldn't be fucked with. Daphne didn't mind competing for Harry's heart and time with another wife, but not his Mudblood best friend.

She threw up a Silencing Charm — this time, she didn't want to be overheard.

"Granger."

Hermione jumped a foot in the air.

"Daphne!" She squeaked, hiding her books behind her.

"Relax," Daphne rolled her eyes. "They're books, not drugs. And you need all the books you can get. Everyone's seen that your grades have dropped."

That was true, ever since Harry had claimed her. Daphne imagined it was difficult to study with your feet pointing at the ceiling until the early hours — she was looking forward to finding out.

Hermione blushed, but her jaw set firmly. "Glad to see you standing up — how many healing potions did you have to take after Harry ruined you?"

Daphne almost smiled — that was the one thing she liked about the otherwise annoying Muggleborn. She had fight.

"I'm sure I'll get used to it, once we're wed." Daphne said casually, watching the bushy-haired girl's eyes narrow.

"What do you want, Greengrass?"

"It's not what I want, actually." Daphne examined her fingernails. "Harry wants me to do his Potions homework." She lied.

"What?" Hermione's mouth went slack. "No way — I do all his homework. That's—that's my thing."

"Aww, don't worry." She mocked. "You'll still be his good little researcher. I'm just better at Potions, don't take it personally. Some things are…in the blood, right?"

Hermione harrumphed. "I'm very well capable of writing twenty inches on the uses of powdered asphodel root, thank you very much. I'll do it, and I-I'll do an extra credit ten inches on what happens when you mix it with wormwood!"

Daphne shrugged. "Suit yourself — it'll probably be the only ten inches you get this month, since Harry's busy with me."

"Oh, hardly, Harry always has—"

"By the way," Daphne interrupted loudly. "If you're doing his Potions work, can you brew up a birth control potion?"

That stopped Hermione short. "But Harry uses a charm on himself to stop unwanted pregnancies."

Daphne grinned. "Oh, my mistake. Not for stopping birth, for inducing fertility." She sighed happily, playing with her long hair. "He wants me pregnant as soon as possible — he needs his heir, after all."

Hermione gaped, running her hands through her hair, her books forgotten. "Are you kidding me? No! I-I don't take orders from you!"

Daphne took a step forward threateningly. "You're a researcher for our family, now. His House, my House. You do whatever projects we ask for. I ask you for something, you'd best ask how soon do I want it."

Hermione fell silent, but she glared back after a moment. "I'm going to Harry!"

"Sure," Daphne shrugged. "If you want him to see you as the little girl who comes crying for sugar-Daddy every time she gets her feelings hurt."

"Y-you're such a bitch, Daphne." Hermione said quietly.

"I'm just stating facts, Granger." Daphne said softly, crossing her arms. "Enjoy your books, but don't order anymore." She swept her blonde hair over one ear. "After all, his money is my money now."

###

"Cissy?" Harry said worriedly as he Flooed in. Usually, Cissy greeted him with a passionate kiss, dressed to the nines. Today, she was wrapped in a fluffy towel and crying on the sofa.

"H-Harry!" She coughed. "It's nothing."

Harry pushed her gently back down as she tried to rise. "It's not nothing. What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing!" She tried to unzip his trousers. "I'll make you some tea. Have you eaten? Do you want to go to bed?"

"Cissy." He said firmly, holding her. "What's wrong, my love?"

"I told you—"

"Cissy, don't make me spank you." Harry told her sternly. "You know I want to."

She vibrated and then stood up. She looked at him and then with a deep breath, she stomped her foot. "I'm your Mistress!"

"You are." He agreed.

"I was your first! I love you and you know I'd do anything for you."

"I know that, baby."

"A-and I've always said I'll fulfill every fantasy. I dressed up like a nurse and your teacher and I even did that thing with the milk and the cow pattern dress—"

"I remember." Harry said quickly.

She put her hands on her hips — her towel slipped down her body, revealing her large bare breasts. "Then why, if you wanted to have sex back there, wouldn't you take me?!" She glared.

"Oh, sweetheart." Harry laughed. "Is that what this is about?"

"This is not a laughing matter." She turned, her towel falling to the floor, and peered over her shoulder at her ass. "You love my ass, don't you? I don't understand."

Harry looked at the ass in question — thick and peachy, shaped like a heart, flaring from her breeding hips. Narcissa placed her fingers underneath her plump cheeks and bounced them as he stared, making them jiggle enticingly.

"I do, baby." He snapped his hand out to spank her, making her cheeks ripple and return back to perfect tautness. "It's not because I don't want you, love." He pulled her back so she was sitting naked in his lap. "I always want to be sweet with you, beautiful, because I love you so much. Even when I'm playing rough, I want my princess to feel loved. I want to kiss away all your bruises and make love to you, just like our first time."

"I do love it when you hold me and take me slowly." Cissy admitted, trembling as he attacked her neck with kisses.

"And taking it back there?" Harry said. "That's for very naughty bad girls. Dirty girls."

Narcissa whined. "I can be your dirty girl!"

"You're my angel princess, Cissy. I put you on this pedestal and I only occasionally like to take you off it to debase you." Harry teased.

Narcissa tugged at her lip as she thought. "You…you could be sweet, back there, you know."

Harry's cock throbbed underneath her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Narcissa crooned, shaking with excitement. "Next time you come. I want you to put it in my bottom and Helena's too."

"Is that right?" Harry laughed. His life — where he had gorgeous women begging him to assfuck them.

"I-I'm putting my foot down." Cissy said authoritatively, stomping down — which had less of an effect, muffled by the plush carpet, and given she was naked on his lap.

"Consider me put in my place." Harry said, groping her ass like a teenager.

Narcissa moaned as she rocked in his lap. "It's tight and thick. It's a…it's a big booty, isn't it?"

Harry burst out laughing at hearing the strange phrase come from the prim woman. "What was that?"

Cissy blushed. "Did I say it wrong?"

"Where did you pick that up from?"

"I'm not saying!"

"Cissy."

She moaned and hid her face in his chest. "I gave Helena a Quick-Quotes Quill and I told her to leave it in the Durmstrang locker room."

Harry scoffed. "Why on earth?"

Her voice was muffled. "I wanted to know what guys want, since my love won't tell me his fantasies." She pulled back to look in his eyes, her own glistening with tears. "Are you sure you're happy with me?"

"Don't be silly, love." Harry chided. "I'm more happy than any man has ever been, and twice as lucky."

She nuzzled his neck. "Always tell me if there's something, anything. I'll do it all."

"Okay, beautiful." Harry reassured her. He spotted some parchment on the coffee table. "Is this the Durmstrang transcription?" He picked it up and read. "I swear, winning a match makes me so fucking horny. I wish I had a big booty witch with a thick ass that can make it clap." He read dryly.

Cissy looked over her shoulder seductively as she rose from his lap. "I can make it clap." She shook her thick ass without using her hands, her cheeks bouncing together, wobbling like jelly. And sure enough, her generous bubble asscheeks clapped together, a glorious chorus, like an orchestra to announce her upcoming sodomy. "Do you like that? Is this what those boys meant?" She looked through her hair strands.

Harry watched, mesmerized. His girls never failed to surprise him. "You are something special, sweetie." He shook himself out of his stupor as Cissy climbed back into his lap.

"It'll be so good, I swear." She promised. "Way better than Greengrass. She's got a nice bottom, I suppose, for such a slim girl. But I'm thicker, aren't I?" She said proudly, sliding her hands down her figure. "A woman's curves. An ass like two Bludgers."

"Like two Bludgers?" Harry scanned down the parchment still in his hand and found the offending phrase. "Cissy, you've got to stop reading this stuff. Trust me, you make all my dreams come true already, things these Durmstrang boys can't even fantasize about."

"Okay, darling." She said obediently. She sighed happily. "Did you enjoy Daphne? It looks like you did."

"I…uh, yeah." He said sheepishly.

"She is trouble, my love." She tugged on his earlobe. "But I'm glad you took her. She'll help no end in getting support from the conservatives."

"I'm sensing a but coming, and not the Bludger kind." Harry quipped.

"But she'll need a lot of direction from me, at first."

"Is this another girl's squabble kind of thing?"

"What squabble?"

"I look the other way, but I'm not completely oblivious, honey." Harry said wryly.

Narcissa kissed him chastely. "We don't worry about it because it's girls stuff that's not important. I'm managing it all — I just want you to give me a…" She rocked forward on the hard cock bulging through his trousers. "Longer leash in breaking her in."

Harry held her hips as she ground on him. "Why? She loves me the same as you all do. I thought you all would find some common ground in that." He sighed. "I need her to be a good wife — she's got a big role to play."

"And she will be." She promised. "But trust me," She said, with a twinkle in her eye. "As one arrogant pureblood bitch who needed breaking in, she needs time. And she'll need the stick more than the carrot."

"Okay, sweetheart." He patted her ass. "I trust you." He paused for a moment. "Are you saying you're fully broken in then?"

Cissy pressed her bare tits against him, bouncing in his lap. "Fully tamed, sir."

Harry grinned as he pinched her cheeks. She was still a little shaky, needing some love and reassurance. And, even though his balls were empty and aching from how much he'd unloaded in and on Daphne, he wanted to comfort her.

Luckily, he knew just what she liked.

"Why don't you get me a butterbeer and give me a nice slow blowjob, huh?"

Narcissa stared into his eyes. "How long?" She demanded.

"Thirty minutes?"

She crossed her arms, scowling. "An hour!" She argued.

"Okay, sweetie."

"Promise?" She bounced in his lap excitedly.

"One whole hour. And go put on that Quidditch referee uniform."

She squealed in excitement. "Will you cum all over my face and breasts?"

"If you're a good girl." He said genially.

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" She showered him in kisses and then scampered from his lap gleefully. He watched her go fondly and as soon as she was out of sight, he held his aching balls, willing them to work once more.

"I bet Voldie doesn't have to deal with this shit." Harry grinned to himself.

###

An hour and a half later, Harry extricated himself from Narcissa's clutches. His beer was long since empty, and Cissy had long since finished cleaning his cock and balls, and had settled into a submissive trance of nuzzling and kissing his groin while he stroked her hair tiredly.

His balls hurt — it wasn't easy being king.

"Wha?" She moaned blearily as she had her favorite treat taken away.

"I'm going to bed, baby. In Hogwarts, though, I've got people to see."

"Sleep with me." She complained. "I'm very cuddly."

"That you are." Harry laughed, pulling her limp form to her feet even as she groaned. "But I also have errands in the morning, and you tend to make me very late."

"I'll be a good girl." She said hopefully, hands behind her back.

"That's the problem. Goodnight, love. Thank you for this evening. You're a dream come true, every dream."

Her eyes glistened with tears as she kissed him into the fireplace, an odd two-step marching kiss, their goodbye routine.

"Goodnight, my Lord."

In a flash of green, he was back in Hogwarts, in the Chamber of Secrets. A few minutes later, and he was back in his nightly bed — Hermione's bed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in his own bed.

Hermione scooted her behind back at him as he slipped under the covers. Her perky bottom was clad in white panties patterned with little yellow lightning bolts.

"Cute." He swatted her ass.

"Stole them from Ginny." She sighed as he held her, snuggling tightly for warmth.

"Won't she be mad?"

"She's not really talking to me anyway." She said. "Apparently, she doesn't like me getting 'broomsticked' by her all-time crush. Although she tried to pretend it was just because I didn't tell her immediately."

"Broomsticked?" Harry said, bewildered. Where did his girls keep getting these phrases?

"Ginny's words, not mine." Hermione giggled. "So…Daphne, huh?"

Harry fell silent. Hermione, more than any of his girls, didn't like talking about his other conquests. "For the power she'll grant me." He explained.

"She's very beautiful."

"Uh, yes. I suppose."

"I got an emergency owl from Narcissa. All of us did. About your new…proclivities."

"Uh-oh."

"Really, Harry? That's what you like?"

Harry blushed. "I…well, you see, it was a dark room and I wasn't really looking…"

Hermione sighed. "You're lucky I read French philosophy."

"You've lost me."

"Marquis de Sade, one of the most depraved men to ever exist, always enjoyed…that sort of thing."

"I wouldn't ask it of you."

"I should think not." Hermione harrumphed. Her fingers toyed with his. "Daphne will be the lady of the family, I suppose, if you can call her a lady. One of two."

Her voice was soft, absent of any emotion, neutered and logical. It was when she spoke in that tone, Harry knew, was her at her most vulnerable.

"But never to replace what you are in my heart." Harry promised, kissing her neck.

"She's very clever, of course." Hermione continued, as if she was narrating a documentary. "But she relies on textbooks and her family's potion training." She stilled. "And she has to learn that she'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

"Did she say something, Mione?" Harry said, frowning.

Hermione seemed to ignore his question. "She blackmails and steals people's notes to get ahead in class. But I just trade my notes, and I achieve same results, you know?"

He couldn't see her face, and when she shook her head slowly, he got a mouthful of bushy hair.

"Be careful, Harry." She clutched his hand around her waist. "She's trouble."

"So I keep hearing." Harry murmured. "Don't worry, I'll give her a firm hand."

"A firm hand, huh?" She said coyly, pushing her ass back at him. She moved his hand to her breast as she slowly, almost imperceptibly, arched her bottom up and down.

Harry winced — his balls hurt. Cissy had basically needed an hour to coax a load out of him, after the obscene cum-bath he'd given Daphne, using all three of her holes.

"You know," Hermione said calmly. "Lavender told me that boys getting blue balls is almost as painful as getting pregnant."

Lavender hasn't got enough brain cells to make a Quidditch team, Harry thought.

"I doubt that." He said out loud. He didn't have blue balls, he had empty balls, he wanted to say. But Hermione wouldn't want to hear that he'd given every drop of seed to other girls.

"It made me feel so guilty about the other day." She said, sliding her cheeks up and down his shaft, her warm well-cushioned buttocks enveloping his dick, which was hardening despite his best will.

"I really wouldn't worry—"

"It made me feel like the time I took your Firebolt away from you. I thought you'd never talk to me again, back then, like you'd just throw me away." Hermione said mournfully. "You and Ron both. Ron was so angry, but you weren't happy either. He told me that you and he were never going to talk to me ever again."

"Ron and his big mouth." Harry frowned. "I never said that."

She turned in his embrace, biting her lip. "Why did you make me such a horny little cow?"

"I-what?" He said, caught off guard by the sudden change of subject.

She slapped his arm. "I'm guilty because I didn't get you off one little time! And all while you do your stupid Hogwarts Express thing on all these b-bitches!"

"Hermione!"

"I can say bitches if I want." She said threateningly.

"Okay, alright!"

She deflated. "And I've felt horny and guilty this whole night. I don't even want to keep doing that Animagus research with you, because I'm just going to turn into an actual horny little cow."

Harry sniggered.

"It's not funny!"

"It's not." He agreed quickly.

She slapped his arm again.

"Ow!"

"Did you know my Ancient Runes homework only got an O?"

Harry eyed her warily. "Isn't that the best grade?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I always get an O star, for extra credit."

"I'm sorry?" He said certainly.

She sighed. "Never mind. I'm just saying, my grades are dropping."

"I really think you'll be fine." Harry kissed her.

"You're messing with my head." She complained, even as she tried to rub her nose against his. "I love you too much. I feel cold when you're not around. I drew a love heart all over a book I borrowed from Madam Pince, you know? I wasn't even thinking."

"She's going to kill you."

"I know." She giggled. "And I don't even care, that's how bad it is."

"That is bad. I'm not a doctor but you sound lovesick." Harry smirked, rubbing her naked back.

"I even wrote a poem yesterday." She groaned.

"Can I hear it?"

"No chance. It was as bad as Ginny's fresh pickled toad."

"You know the twins wrote that, right?"

Hermione grinned. "I saw her old notebook before she threw it away, I'm not so sure." Her smile faded and she clung to him desperately. "Tell me you love me?"

Harry's heart ached. "Sweetheart, there is no place in this world, no timeline, even, where you wouldn't be at my side every minute of the day, if I could make it so."

"That's nice." Hermione admitted, rubbing her wet cheeks on his stubble jaw. "I'm not sure I'll ever stop being scared of…being thrown away."

"Then I'll never stop reassuring you that I won't." Harry promised. "But…I can't do that with just sex, can I?"

Especially when my balls are empty, he thought to himself.

"Sex doesn't hurt." She said cheekily.

Harry begged to differ — his balls felt like they'd been beaten by Fred and George's best struck Bludgers.

She began inching down her white panties, until they were around her thigh, and she'd bravely brought his fingers up to slide through her wet petals. "I know I sniff and tut and, well, disapprove, but I'll never — yes, just like that — I'll never stop loving you." She whimpered as his fingers slid into her, holding his arm with both hands as she rode his fingers. "Whatever girl you're with minutes before you come here, leaving her perfume on you. However…Cormac McLaggen'd you get."

"You can't verb Cormac, Hermione." Harry tutted, bending his fingers inside her.

She moaned. "It's hot that you know what a verb is."

He snorted, kissing her neck as she practically straddled him from the side. "Does this mean I can run the Hogwarts Express on you?"

"What's that again?" She spat out the strand of hair in her mouth, a twinkle in her eyes. "Several hours with a break in the middle for sugar and for me to get in my school uniform?"

"Your parents are dentists, there's no chance we have sugar here."

"Unless…" Hermione swept her hand under the pillow and pulled out a Deluxe Sugar Quill. "Ah hah!"

"What have you done with Hermione Granger?"

She giggled as she wriggled on top of him, taking grasp of his hard cock. "I needed the Deluxe version that lasts for hours, in order to practice for my big, hard, boyfriend." She dove down and lathered his cock with her wet mouth, her large brown eyes staring up at him adoringly. She pulled off with a pop and licked his shaft from base to top.

"Mmm, Mum and Dad would diagnose me with an oral fixation." She giggled around his cockhead, twisting her palm under the ridge of his cock like he'd taught her.

Despite his aching balls, Harry groaned with pleasure. Hermione was getting very talented.

"Glad you've got the sugar, Mione, but it might be a while before I give you any cream." He threaded his hands through her hair. "Its, uh, been a long day."

"That's okay." Hermione's eyes sparkled. "Maybe I should get changed for Hogwarts early — I always do, after all. Close your eyes."

Harry did. He heard a rustling.

"Switching Charms are such a pain." She grumbled. "Okay, open up."

He did and saw Hermione in her Hogwarts uniform, except it wasn't recent.

"My first year uniform." Hermione rubbed her thumb over her lip as she swayed from side to side. "Do you think it still fits?"

It didn't, not even a little — her gray pleated skirt barely stretched to her upper thigh, her thighs pouring from ripping, stretching stockings. Her blouse didn't come down to her belly button and the gap between each straining blouse button was large enough to see plenty of her tits from every angle.

The top four buttons weren't even done up, since there was chance of getting them close.

"The tie still fits." Harry said, his throat dry as he devoured her with his eyes.

She giggled and turned slowly — from the back, it was even more slutty, her supple milky-skinned asscheeks clearly visible under a skirt that gave up as it reached midway over her shapely ass.

"This train might go to Hogwarts and back." Harry said slowly as she backed up slowly, into touching range.

"I'll need feeding then." She murmured smokily, as he took her cheeks in hand, squeezing them reverently.

"Time to board." He lifted her above his lap, her panties long gone.

She giggled. "You're so silly." But she descended all the same, biting her lip and whimpering as she sat slowly onto his lap, his cock reaching into her wet depths.

Harry didn't move, letting his brainy beauty settle down gently until her soft cushioned ass was sitting on him, skin to skin.

She worked her hips slowly, the moment intimate as she lay back against his chest, her eyes closed as she rotated her hips. "Feels so good." She smiled blissfully.

"Me too, sweetheart."

After while, she was ready to work her hips up and down, one hand on his arm to support herself, her feet planted either side of his legs.

Harry sat back against the pillows and enjoyed the show, and then the sounds as she began slapping down on him, her wet warm cunt squelching as she rode him, his balls clapping against her cheeks.

Hermione arched her neck back to kiss him feverishly. "Tell me something smart." She begged.

"Is that what gets you going?"

"Please! Something about the Animagus—oh, fuck me, so big—"

"In North America, the Animagi are called skin walkers, because of old Native American tales about them."

"Yes!" She shrieked, vibrating on his cock, her head arched back so far he could see the whites of her eyes, her face red. Harry pinched her nipples under the blouse — there was plenty of room to thread his hand under it, gapped from her skin from tits that this first year blouse hadn't been built for.

"More, more." She begged, gushing around his cock as she humped him. "I love it when you're smart."

"Um," Harry was having difficulty concentrating. "You know you have to keep a mandrake leaf in your mouth for a month to become an Animagus, even when eating or sleeping. But there's an interesting theory that if you have sex with the leaf in your mouth, your Animagus might pick up traits from your partner—"

"Fuck, oh, oh!" Hermione came on him as he reached round to finger her clit, spraying her sheets with an impressive waterfall. Her scream almost deafened him.

"Oh with an asterisk for extra credit?" Harry joked.

"So smart, so smart." She chanted as she came down from her high, half-turning for a fevered kiss. "Imagine how smart our children will be."

"You like questions and answers while having sex, huh?" Harry chuckled.

"Is it obvious?" She sighed happily as he wrapped his arm around her lower waist, his palm against her mound so he could push against the cock that bulged through her.

"Want to hear the final riddle from my mysterious blackmailer?" Harry teased.

"Don't tease me right now." Hermione begged. "Do you really have it?"

"I do."

"I'm going to get it, this time. No hints." She begged.

"Are you sure you can concentrate?" He smirked, feeling her soaking and stretched pussy lips as he leaned her back so she was lying against his stomach, his knees up so he could drive into her.

"Tell me!" She gasped as he bottomed out in her, her hand over her stomach where she could feel him.

He summoned the note from his jeans and read it.

"This is the last riddle. You have everything you need to figure it out. I don't want your money. I want your attention. You've looked into my eyes, but you never really see me. If you can't figure it out, then you're not the man I thought you were."

"Ugh." Hermione grouched. "I knew it would be a woman."

"What word of only three syllables contains twenty six letters?" Harry finished.

Hermione howled as he wrapped his arms under his tits and began pounding her from below. He pistoned into her furiously, trying to fuck his cock as hard and as deep as he could — her pussy was always vice-tight, like it was challenging him to reshape it.

"Ow-ow-ow-yes! Ow-lphabet!" She wailed, her hands snaked behind her and around his skull as he used her.

"Huh?"

"Alphabet! I got it right, I got it right." She cried happily, her whole body quivering in a full-body orgasm.

"My smart girl." Harry kissed her neck, though she was lost in her own twitching, spasming, paradise.

When she was recovered, she was practically limp. "You didn't come yet?" She moued in disappointment.

"Sorry, baby. Like I said, long day."

She whimpered as she slowly slid his cock out of her, her pussy creaming rivulets of white goo down his veiny shaft. Then she rolled over and built herself a stack of pillows.

"What are you doing?" Harry raised a brow.

"You didn't marry Daphne yet." She said incomprehensibly.

"Huh?"

"A pureblood noble that's pregnant in school would look weird." She announced as she lay back on her pillow-stack and spread her thighs, blushing and unable to meet his eyes. "But a Muggleborn researcher?" She nibbled on her lip demurely. "Would that get you off, Harry? To breed me? Right now?"

"Fuck, Mione." Harry groaned as he took in the sight of her. In her ridiculous first year outfit, tits, thighs and ass all bursting out, it was never more clear that she was a woman now. A woman with a wet creamy pussy, legs spread and asking to be bred.

Hermione snapped her blouse in two, the buttons pinging everywhere, but she pulled it aside and began palming her breasts. "Won't it be so humiliating?" She said softly. "If I have to waddle, barefoot and pregnant, into Professor McGonagall's class?"

"Hermione." He breathed out, kneeling between her legs, his cock aching to spear into her.

She looked up at him and bit her lip sexily. "Will Mrs Weasley send a Howler? Will Ron even be able to look at me?"

He ran his cock through her gooey pussy lips, coating himself in her free flowing dew.

She wasn't done. "I'll have to tell my parents that their daughter is a teenage mother." Hermione gnawed on her lip. "I don't want them to hate you, so I'll tell them that I begged you to breed me."

"Fuck, Hermione." He said softly. "What's gotten into you?"

She spread herself for him, parting her petals. "You, apparently."

He slid inside her, looking into her eyes as he filled her completely.

"It's okay, Harry." She caressed his cheek. "Use me. Breed me. It's what I want."

He growled and began fucking her hard and rough, grabbing her lush asscheeks in order to spread her even wider. She was so tight and slim and small, it made him dream of making her belly bulge with his child. Her cunt was milking him, hot and clasping onto his cock, so tight that it felt her hand was jerking him.

Hermione was in his head as well as under him, kneading her tits, eyes wide as she begged for his load. "Please, Harry, breed me. Put me in my place. Let everyone know that you've fucked my ambitions out of me. Yes, just like that, so rough!"

Harry felt like an animal, rutting into her, the room filled with the smell of her pussy and their sex.

She smirked at him as she saw he was getting close. "Oh, Harry, your dick is too big." She caressed the bulging skin in her pelvis as it moved back and forth. "When I'm pregnant, you can't hurt the baby." She fluttered her eyelashes. "You're so smart, my love, can you think of any other way we can have sex while I'm pregnant?" She teased coquettishly.

That thought sent him over the edge, spilling his seed with a roar, his balls unloading all they had. He collapsed onto her, her hands stroking through his hair, legs wrapped around him as she soothed and nurtured him as he spurted his last.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." She sang into his ear. "Give me every drop."

"Fuck me, Hermione." He sighed when he was done, limp and finished.

She giggled. "Knew that would get you off."

"Minx. You know I'm under a charm, right?" He said blearily.

"Only takes a second to take it off." Hermione said quietly. "One day."

"One day." He agreed.

She kissed his forehead lovingly. "Padma, by the way."

"Huh?"

"Padma. The answers to all the riddles. Popcorn. Age. Dictionary. Mushroom. Alphabet. Padma." She rolled her eyes. "She's not as clever as me, but she does try. I should have known it was her, she always gives confusing answers — that's why the Professors don't give her extra credit."

Harry gasped out a laugh, drained and tired. Padma — the girl he'd screwed over at the Yule Ball, too busy mooning over Cho.

This was a surprise…but she was a beauty, with a brain to match. And, he thought guiltily, a twin.

"My Mione, wielding the sharpest wit and the keys to my heart." He held her tightly, still inside her. "If I have a throne and an army of lovers, I'll still choose you to be at my side."

She kissed him, sighing contentedly. "I would follow you to hell, as much as I wish to stop you from descending." She gazed into his soul. "I could disapprove of your actions, be disgusted by your misogyny, despise your ideals, and still never imagine a world in which I don't love you."

Harry could say nothing to that, so he simply kissed her. They rested for a long while.

"Speaking of fiery depths, how's it going with Susan?" He said finally. "What did you tell me last time, about her?"

Hermione huffed. "I said she was going to need the carrot more than the stick."

He snorted. "Cissy just told me the same thing about Daphne."

"Daphne needs a whip and a gag, more like." She said darkly. "I'll give you an update on Susan soon, promise. I have a…campaign in motion."

"A campaign, huh?" He extracted herself from her with a groan. "You know you don't have to get me Susan, right? You don't need to prove anything to me."

Hermione snuggled closer. "I want to. She's got a good heart — she might able to stop you from the wrong path. Dark Lord Potter is not that great a name, you know."

"You mean she's nice so she won't mind me spending half my time with you?" He said knowingly.

She blushed. "That, too." As he opened his mouth, she held up her hand. "I know, I know, I don't need to worry. Honestly, it's not Daphne or Narcissa that worry me." She held his arm tightly. "It's Ron."

"Ron?"

Her smile was bittersweet. "The friend that couldn't keep up with you."

"We're still friends."

"Not like before."

Harry couldn't deny that — he lived a very different life. He was a different person.

"I'll carry you, if I have to." He promised. "Where I go, you go."

Hermione yawned sleepily. "Thankfully, I can do things Ron can't." She smiled cutely, her eyes closed, her fingers brushing over his cock.

He waited until she was almost asleep. "I don't know about that — Ron's got a big mouth too."

"Harry!"

He burst into laughter at her affronted look.

###

In the morning, Harry made his way to the Room of Requirement, rather than the Great Hall. Like he'd requested, Daphne was there.

She was dressed the part of a noble wife, in a wine red vintage dress, a medieval beauty transported to modern day, a gown with long lace sleeving, a décolleté to show her fair pale skin and the curve of her chest. Cleaned up as she was, he could almost forget the state he'd left her in.

She bowed her head as he entered, pouring him tea from the pot.

"Good morning, Harry." She said shyly.

Harry wasn't fooled — Daphne was a snake beyond compare.

Still, he let her seat him in the loveseat. He let his silence frustrate her while he sipped on his tea. Her hands worked on the knots in his shoulders, but she said nothing, because he gave her nothing to work with.

But when he heard her take an intake of breath, to wiggle her forked tongue, he snapped into movement. He grabbed her wrist and jerked her forward roughly, so she fell over his lap.

Harry ignored her squeal as he tore her dress from her lower half, until he was finally greeted with her ass, clad in sheer red panties.

He yanked her panties down to her thighs and smacked her hard, a loud crack made that her shriek. Her face reddened along with her ass as he spanked her, again and again.

She writhed and cried, but she didn't wriggle free or complain, not even when her beautiful pale skin was marked with a burning red handprint.

Her cries turned to whimpers when she began to drip into her lowered panties, her thighs squirming, her ass arching up for him.

"I figured you out long ago, didn't I, Daphne?" Harry said lowly.

But she hid her face as he caressed her burning skin, flinches turning to fidgets as his touch turned from pleasure to pain.

"Tell me why I did that." He ordered.

"I don't know." She said sullenly, but she gasped as he took a rough hold of her plump asscheek.

"Don't you?" Harry asked. "All my girls are complaining about you, and you don't know why?"

She looked back at him through her golden blonde tresses, indignant even with her streaking tears. "I was just reminding them of their place."

"Yeah?" He took hold of her emerald plug and tugged it back and forth. "Maybe you need reminding of your place, slut."

"I don't. I'm yours." Daphne promised eagerly, her ass lifted for him. "But I have to make waves with your chosen, my Lord, or I won't be able to act as the wife you deserve."

Harry snorted. "I need your support, Daphne, not your petty games or your Slytherin bullshit. If I get more stories from Narcissa or Hermione, I'm going to plug your mouth, not your ass, you understand?"

She glared at him, but that glare quickly faded to a glum look.

"I said, do you understand?"

"Yes, My Lord." She said obediently. She swayed her bum from side to side, and he was almost hypnotized by the rhythm of her quivering pussy as it glistened in the light, the gleaming of her plug in her ass.

"I want you to be a good girl, Daphne. I know that's hard for you."

She placed her hands behind her back, crisscrossed teasingly. "I want to be your good girl, my Lord."

Daphne had never found a game she didn't want to play.

"I want all your energy directed at getting me girls, making me happy, making me powerful. Not giving me headaches."

She was silent for a long moment. "I understand. I need…"

"Discipline?"

"Direction." Daphne finished, squirming as he played with her plug. "Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you." She promised.

He saw her cunt trickle. "You like that idea, huh?" It didn't matter if she did — there was no chance he was fucking her. His poor balls needed a break.

"I…I like the idea of dominating others for you." She admitted. "So I can see you work. So you don't do that stuff on me." She said hurriedly, but she was fooling no one.

"Uh-huh." Harry thought for a long moment. Maybe she wasn't so different from Hermione after all — Hermione wanted to get him Susan, to steady her standing in the group, to make his heart kinder.

Maybe Daphne was the devilish version of his best friend, the one that would entice down to sin and sodomy.

It was a thrilling thought.

"I have blondes and brunettes." He said slowly. "Susan won't bend for me, not yet. Cho won't let me fuck her until marriage."

Daphne said nothing, completely still.

"So…" Harry caressed her cheeks, watching her flesh goose up at his touch. Two beautiful cheeks. Beautiful things came in twos. "I want you to get me something new."

"Something new?"

Harry smiled. "Twins. I want twins."