Reactions

Chapter 27. Reactions

Harry descended the stairs and made his way into the common room.

One thing had drastically changed after yesterday; once everyone had read what happened in the emergency Wizengamot session; after his father had spouted his 'divine' revelation.

It resulted in this… annoying mess.

Awed gazes followed him as he crossed the expansive common room and moved towards the corridor that led outside. He could feel every single pair of eyes on him as the son of 'Arthur reborn' went out on his afternoon stroll.

It had taken only one newspaper article for these blood supremacists to change their tune. Instead of glaring or insulting him behind his back—like usual—they now offered him reverent looks. It was pathetic, honestly. And he couldn't even relish this superiority when it was based on a lie.

He at last understood how the entire wizarding Britain could declare his mum a demon summoner when she was not. It must have taken only a single article back then too, and these people must've believed it without any hint of scepticism. Then again, if his mum hadn't told him what an actual farce the entire meeting was, then he too might've been inclined to accept the spewed shit. The way it was written with an abundance of moving pictures made it difficult to cast doubt, displaying the journalist's impressive writing skills. The Daily Prophet's practical monopoly on news was quite terrifying. And for this instance, the international press would sing a similar song, all because of his mum.

Thankfully, her debt was paid, and she wouldn't have to help his father with this propaganda anymore.

Ignoring the whispers, he walked faster, away from his wonderstruck housemates. Soon, the gigantic common room was left behind, and he was swallowed by the corridor. The hallway went straight for some hundred paces before ending at a dead end.

"Avalon," he whispered the password, cringing to himself. Even Professor Black had not been spared by the propaganda.

The wall slid into the stony floor, revealing the passage outside. Stepping through, he navigated towards the antechamber, which housed the Grand Staircase.

Many people were milling around, and a buzz of noise echoed against the vast walls. Some were in groups, chittering and drifting off aimlessly, while others were alone and moved with clear purpose. Before their attention could fall on him, he continued on his way.

He ascended to the third floor and went deeper in the left wing, away from the crowd and into desolate corridors. His path was winding, moving away from empty armour and alive paintings. When he was sure there was no one around, he pulled out the Marauder's Map from his pocket and unfolded it.

There Susan was. In an empty classroom that he just passed by.

Shoving the map back in his pocket, he pushed past the door and was greeted by darkness. He waved his wand, and the windows swung open, allowing the red afternoon light to spill through and project long shadows.

With another flick, the room was pristinely clean.

He scanned around, and his brows furrowed when he couldn't find her. "Are we playing hide and seek?"

The air shimmered near the window, and Susan slipped out of the Invisibility Cloak, standing there with a crooked smile. "I don't think you can win if I use my cloak."

She was half-correct. For some reason, her Invisibility Cloak was powerful enough to hide from the magic of the map. But he had other methods to discover her. He could close his eyes and use Magiscape to see the souls around him. And no matter how powerful the cloak, no soul could hide from him in the golden sea.

"You are underestimating me," he said with a chuckle, walking over to her.

Unlike him, she hadn't changed. She was still wearing the school uniform: white shirt and black skirt. Though the tie and the robes were gone. Even the first couple of buttons on her shirt were undone, displaying a hint of pale cleavage. And her hair was down too, cascading past her shoulders. "I have many different ways to make the cloak ineffective."

"Right," she muttered, turning away from him and leaning over the window.

A gust of cool wind brushed against her face, making her bangs flutter over her forehead. Under the light of the setting sun, her ginger curls seemed darker than they actually were. Almost red instead of orange.

Detecting the change in her mood, he joined her and looked out.

The Gryffindor quidditch team was training on the grounds, laughing and yelling at one another. He snorted when he heard a pretty nasty cuss. He hadn't known there was such a descriptive way to say motherfucker. But Susan's blue eyes weren't on their shenanigans. No, they were lost in the cloudless sky.

He bumped against her side. "What's with that look?"

"I'm just surprised by everyone's reaction," she replied, a sad frown forming on her face.

"It's about dad being King Arthur reborn?"

"Yes."

"Don't tell me you believe it." He cracked an amused smile, which quickly disappeared as her frown deepened.

"I don't care if it's real or not." She bent down, laying her chin over her folded arms, over the window sill. "It's the reaction of people around me that is interesting."

"I understand. The worshipful looks must annoy you. It irritates me too." He placed his hand on top of her head, combing her flowing locks as the air blew through them.

She let out a laugh. It was sharp and hollow. "That's it. Nothing changed for me. People are staring at you and Julian as if you're demigods. But no one stares at me. Because I'm not James Potter's real daughter. I'm not a Potter. I don't have his blood running through my veins."

Harry froze at the sudden heat in her voice. "You want to be stared at? You're welcome to change places with me."

"You know what I'm saying." She sighed, pushing off the window sill and standing upright.

His hand dropped from her head. "Haven't we already gone through this? Does it really matter?"

"No, you're right. It doesn't matter if I belong with my family anymore. It's just that this lack of attention solidified my previous opinion into a fact," she grumbled, leaning on her side against the window. "No matter what I do, I'll never be a Potter. I'll always be Bones."

He stepped closer and placed his arm around her back. "Believe me, there's no fun in being Potter. I'm fine with just being Evans."

She nodded and flushed against him, her arms encircling his waist and her face burrowing in his chest. He perched his chin atop her head, smiling at the whiff of a familiar fragrance emanating from her hair. Something sweet and fruity. It reminded him of the first time they had humoured the idea of a physical relationship. He couldn't believe it had already been more than a year since that moment.

"Will I always belong with you?" She asked, pulling away and fixing him with a soft, vulnerable look.

"Always," he replied without any doubt.

"Always? Even when we are older and have our lives to focus on?"

"Always." He reiterated with a small peck on her lips.

That gesture squeezed a smile out of her, and she embraced him again. Harry patted her butt, signalling for her to wrap herself around him. She did so as he swept her up and coiled her legs around his waist.

He carried her to the teacher's desk and plopped down over it with her still in his lap. Though he adjusted the position, she was sitting sideways, leaving her legs hanging. She moved her head back and offered him a small smile, knowing where his thoughts were heading. Not wasting a second, she grabbed him by his collars and pressed her mouth over his.

Harry kissed her back, savouring the smooth texture of her lips.

His one hand curved around her and grasped her hip, keeping her steady in his lap, and the other lay on her knee, slowly snaking up her meaty thigh. Her skin was soft and warm underneath the skirt. And his loins stirred at the pleasant sensation. She pried his mouth open and teased him with her wet tongue, while his fingers danced on her skin, gliding steadily towards her crotch.

She gasped as soon as he reached the thin layer of her underwear. And he took the opportunity to fight back. He wrestled down her aggressive tongue and snogged her senseless. Her eyes snapped open as his thumb slid under her knickers and rubbed against her nub.

"Mmm…" She made a throaty sound, her eyelids fluttering as his finger slipped between her moist inner walls.

Harry pulled his mouth away from hers, and smirked at her scrunched face. He pumped his finger in and out while stimulating her through her engorged clit.

"Mmmmm… ah… ahmmm…" Incoherent noises left her, and she clung to him as if her body were crumbling apart.

Not halting his movements, he lowered his face and kissed the side of her neck. She groaned as he clamped his lips on her skin. He dragged his mouth down the curve of her neck and spent a minute leaving his mark, leaving a love bite on her collarbone.

She stiffened as his teeth lightly sank into her alluring flesh. "Ahh!" She gave out a sudden moan and held onto him, her thighs locking his hand between her legs. Squirming in his lap, she arched her back and rode the pleasure wave, twisting her body to keep seeking it. But sooner than she wished, the pleasure ebbed away, leaving her wanting for more.

Harry chortled as she loosened her tight grip on him and lay boneless. Her eyes were wide open and her legs hung limp; her breaths were coming out in short puffs. He took his hand back and gave his glistening fingers an amused look. Under her dazed gaze, he sucked it clean.

She blushed, still not having gotten used to watching him do that.

"You know, you look so funny when you're coming. Your cute nose is all scrunched up, your mouth is all twisted, and even your eyebrows keep trembling." He cracked up, making her groan in embarrassment. "But I'm sure I look worse when it's my turn."

"You do. You look like an ugly chimpanzee!" She fired back, sliding off his lap and standing in front of him with crossed arms.

He just chuckled some more, and her burning cheeks were a clear indication of her mortification. "Such hurtful words. I never said you look ugly; just funny."

She harrumphed but didn't protest when he got up and pulled her into his arms. And she only rolled her eyes when he snuck his hands under her skirt and fondled her bubbly arse. "Was that comment bad enough to leave me with blue balls?"

"I'll ignore that comment." She strode past him.

Coming to a stop before the desk, she undid the zip and allowed her skirt to pool around her ankles. Then she peeled off her knickers and stepped out of them. Shooting him a coy look, she propped herself down on her elbows and bent over the desk. She pushed back her magnificent arse, her plump cheeks spreading below the hem of her white shirt to allow him a glimpse at her wet core.

"So kind and merciful." He grinned, feeling himself stiffen achingly. He fumbled with his jeans and took them off. Then there went his briefs. Just like her, he was bare from the waist down. Lining up behind her, he grabbed her firm, round cheeks and slowly eased in.

Like always, she was hot and tight. He hissed along with her as his length eventually vanished into her cunt. For a moment, he just stayed that way, revelling in her heat and letting his throbbing cock bathe in her silky sauna.

And then he was moving.

He grabbed her waist with one hand, and the other wound around her side to rest on her belly.

She was quiet for the first few minutes, only her hitching breath revealing her pleasure. He almost worried that his earlier comment had shamed her into being self-conscious around him. Thankfully, she began moaning as he slammed down on her arse.

He fucked her with quick thrusts, pounding into her roughly. His cock easily slipped in and out of her. Her entire body shook from the force, and the desk itself creaked with their in-sync motion.

"Mmmmm… ahmm.. AH! … there… slow down—a little."

And so he did. He slowed the pace and shifted to long and languid thrusts instead, taking the opportunity to drench every inch of his cock in her juices. The hand on her belly didn't stay idle, going through her buttons excitedly. Her bra was pulled down next, and her massive breasts bounced back and forth with his every thrust.

He leant forward, pressing his face into her shirt—on her shoulder blades, and grabbed her tits from behind. He squeezed them and loved the sound she made. It was something between a pleasured moan and an affronted squeak.

Minutes passed by, and all Harry was aware of was her perfectly soft round tits in his grasp and her tight cunt clenching around his cock. His eyes were closed, her white shirt tickled his cheek, and her moans were music to his ears. His own contribution to this surrounding noise was laboured pants and occasional grunts.

There was a pattern to this delightful noise.

The insistent smack of his hips against her arse, followed by his soft grunt, then came her throaty moan, and last was the creaking of the desk.

Slap… grunt… moan… creak

Slap… grunt… moan… creak

Slap… grunt… moan… creak

Slap… grunt… moan… creak

Slap… grunt… moan… creak

But Harry could only thrust so many times before losing.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her breasts, and this rhythm reached its crescendo. With a loud, feral grunt, he plunged his cock as deep as he could, and burst into a spray of white. It was followed by a couple of more sluggish thrusts to squeeze out every last drop, and once he was sure he had emptied his balls inside her, he stumbled back.

He wiped his forehead as Susan straightened up and spun around to face him. Her knees were shaking. Her bright ginger hair was a mess, and there was a thin sheen of sweat on her face. On her collarbone was a red hickey, and her shirt was parted open with her blue bra pulled down, revealing her mesmerising contours. His fingerprints were visible on her bountiful breasts. And below her shirt, a sparse growth of pubic hair crowned her core, and dripping from that core was his semen, trickling down along her inner thigh.

She looked enthralling. Mouth-watering. Like some love goddess prepared to destroy his life for a brief dalliance. He would be sporting a raging boner if he hadn't just spent himself.

"Stop looking at me like that." She blushed, cleaning herself up with a wave of her wand. "I need a break before you jump at me again."

He smiled and put on his pants and jeans, shooting her an appreciative glance when her knickers rolled up her shapely thighs. She didn't say anything as he sat down on the desk and looked on as if she were putting on a show.

She wasn't.

After she wore her skirt, her bra was pulled up without any fanfare, concealing her voluptuous breasts. Then her shirt was buttoned. He hid his disappointment, but when she slumped down beside him and leant on his side, his smile widened, and he threw his arm over her shoulders.

They enjoyed each other's presence, sharing a moment of quiet intimacy, which was broken by her. "This is the OWL year."

"Yep," he replied idly, staring at the shadows that were cast across the room, over the benches, and on the wall. The shapes were indistinguishable, like a formless cloud.

It was getting dark outside; the sun had set.

"What is your plan for the future? We need to start thinking about it now. You are fifteen, and I'll be sixteen in a couple of months."

"Oh? Where did this come from?" He drew her closer, looking down at her mild frown.

She twirled her finger in her stray ginger lock. "Hannah was talking about opening a clothing shop in Diagon Alley when she graduated. And I wondered what I'd do and what you'd do."

Harry hummed thoughtfully. He had actually thought about the future. It would be weird if he hadn't. This was their OWL year. In the next three years, they would graduate and become adults. They would find jobs and get busy with life. If Harry hadn't sworn off marriage, he would say he'd marry some co-worker or childhood friend once he had a stable job.

"I'm thinking about becoming an auror," he revealed slowly.

She blinked in disbelief. "Really? You want to protect everyone?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, I want a well-paying job that won't be boring. And I like fighting and using combat magic."

It wasn't only that, of course. He felt restrained and suffocated here. He had this immense power of Magiscape, and yet he couldn't use it at Hogwarts. But if he became an auror, he could finally use it on criminals without feeling like some evil dark lord. He could catch outlaws easily. He could do something with it.

It was not that he wanted to practise this soul magic on everyone and feel superior. No, he just wanted to use it and not feel like he was restrained by invisible shackles. After all, what was the meaning of learning Magiscape if he barely ever used it?

"You can become a duellist, you know. That will be far safer," she muttered with a scowl, apparently not liking his career choice.

"Being a duellist is not stable. My income would depend on how many tournaments I participated in. And I don't have the freedom to fool around," he declined, tapping his left foot on the floor. "Mum has been working since I was little. First at a bookstore to make ends meet, and now in the castle to look after me. I want her to sit back and relax once I graduate. I want her to experience a lavish life. I want her to enjoy herself instead of worrying."

She smiled at this and kissed him on the cheek. "You're kind."

"Don't insult me." He gave her an affectionate squeeze.

Susan chuckled and burrowed into his embrace. "I don't know what to do. I don't have any specific interests. Nor do I have any particular talent."

"You'll have time to decide. And you must have something you like to do." He patted her back.

She shook her head. "I don't. Wait… I used to draw before Hogwarts."

Her face glowed as she proceeded to tell him about her hobby. She swung her feet back and forth from the desk, smiling nostalgically and talking about her foolish childhood dreams.

Harry listened aptly, remaining silent for the most part and only asking questions here and there. When she finished, her lips drooped, and her enthusiasm fizzled out.

It seemed she was in a morose mood throughout the day.

He slid off the desk and stood up. "Alright. You want to be a painter. Let's do this. I'll be an auror, and you'll be an artist. It's decided."

"Right." There was not a hint of conviction in her voice.

She blinked when he cupped her face and pulled on her cheeks. "Don't be so glum. We still have three years. You can relearn and advance your skills. It's not too late."

"What if it's a waste of time?"

"Doing something you like is never a waste of time." He stretched her cheeks—her mouth, creating a funny smile.

She slapped his hands away and rubbed her aching face. "Fine. I'll live in your house and spend your money if I fail my exams and don't get a job."

"Gladly." He patted her head and went in for a kiss.

She shoved him off, but there was a brimming smile on her face. "You're thinking dirty, aren't you? You're just thinking about how easy it will be to sleep with me if we stay in the same house."

"Exactly. Am I ever not thinking dirty?" He questioned sarcastically.

This time she didn't protest when his lips mashed against hers.

~xXxXx~

The first few weeks after James Potter's public declaration to withdraw from the council were chaotic. The ICW met many times to ponder their future course, and the wizarding Britain was excluded from every single meeting. But no matter how much they condemned this world-shattering decision, James Potter refused to bow down.

These meetings suddenly stopped happening, and every member nation wondered what was the cause of it.

What they didn't know was that MACUSA, the most powerful member of ICW, had thrown the dice and was waiting for the positive results.

On October 20, five superwizards were dispatched for a mission. The mission involved kidnapping the closest family members of James Potter and informing him of their impending doom if he remained steadfast on this destructive path.

These superwizards were a hardy bunch: trained assassins, conditioned from their childhood in all forms of combat, whether it be physical, magical, or mental. Their efficiency was unquestionable, and they had never failed in serving the American government.

This time, it should be no different.

One of them was sent to Potter Manor to abduct Lena Potter and was further instructed to leave a threatening letter behind.

The rest four were on their way to Hogwarts to capture Julian Potter, Susan Bones, Harry Evans, and Lily Evans.

~xXxXx~

The tall figure, cloaked in black, loomed outside the manor. He was barely visible in the darkness of the night. His blue eyes gleamed as he inspected his objective.

Taking out his wand, he gently touched the ward, and a transparent dome of blue protective magic flared to life around the house, warning him to stay away, daring him to cross the boundary.

Realising the strength of the potent magic, the assassin decided to resort to his trump card. He pulled out a curved silver dagger. Its hilt was a hollow cylinder made of red glass, and something flickered inside it. There were runes carved on the blade, but what was most bizarre were the wires and the magnet hidden in the red hilt.

The assassin gripped the blade and cut a window in the blue dome.

A section of the ward flopped open, and he dove in.

From there, his task was easy. His feet didn't make any sound when he ran through the house, as if he were gliding over the floor. He unlocked all the doors in his path with a simple twist of his wrist. And the lauded wards of Potter Manor could do nothing unless he did something to wake it.

The assassin didn't show his surprise when he found Lena Potter alone in the bed, dressed in a flowy white nightdress.

It was around two at night, so he had expected the Minister to be here too. Whatever, the man's absence was a boon to him.

He tapped his wand on Lena Potter's head and hauled her up over his shoulder. Retracing his steps, he reached the living room and dropped the envelope on the table. And then he was on his way. Once outside, he moved through the window he had created earlier.

The ward started working again once he struck it with the hilt of the knife. No one would know how this kidnapping was pulled off since the ward was intact. This should increase the terror of the Minister and make him pliable the next time they talk.

It wasn't only magical Britain that had progressed after mixing magic and technology. No, it was America that was leading the race for evolution.

The assassin activated his portkey and appeared in a wooden cabin reserved for the prisoners. Now all he had to do was wait until his team returned with the others.

~xXxXx~

The assassin found the young boy sleeping in the Gryffindor dormitory. He grabbed him and made his way out of the common room. The portrait of the Fat Lady snapped close behind him.

Once he left the reach of the wards, he'd be able to use the portkey.

All he understood was that the knife somehow made a hole and put the wards to sleep. That was why he couldn't directly portkey from the castle. That would 'wake' the wards and doom the mission. And the wards of Hogwarts were legendary, even across the pond.

It was when he reached the ground floor that the smooth-sailing plan experienced its first bump.

"Where are you going with my student?" Across from him stood an old wizard with a long white beard. The blue floral night robe would've been hilarious if not for his stricken expression.

He didn't have to ask who this was. This was the very man who had ended Grindelwald's terror and etched his name in history. There would be hardly any wizard or witch who didn't know the name Dumbledore.

He dumped the boy and sprang away with his wand in his grasp.

"Fall. Sleep." That was the headmaster's cold command, and the world came crashing down on the assassin's shoulders.

The true might of the castle's wards was known to no one. Within its purview, the headmaster was a god, and everyone else was a peasant. The stored ambient magic gathered through the millenia was the rushing river to the headmaster's dam, eagerly waiting to be used. While the gargantuan reserve of magic did not grant omniscience, it did grant nearly enough power to make him omnipotent.

The assassin collapsed and lost his consciousness. The last thing he saw was his other team member coming down with the girl.

'Run!' He wanted to yell, but the dark waves plunged him too deep before he could form the word on his tongue.

~xXxXx~

The assassin bypassed the secret wall and entered the corridor leading to the common room. This trick to safeguard this location was elementary. It was made to keep the children of other houses from sneaking in rather than to stand against true threat.

The team had studied the castle as much as they could before this attack. And they were well-prepared to see this through. That was why he knew which stairs led to the boys' rooms.

From there, finding the plaque containing the name Harry Evans was easy. And bypassing the password was again just as simple as breaking through the main entrance.

But after he entered, he was met with an empty bed.

Where was Harry Evans?

~xXxXx~

Lily was sleeping blissfully with her naked form cuddled against her son. Her well-rounded rear was pressed against his bare crotch, and her waist was locked within his possessive arms. Like every night, Harry had stayed and made love to her, keeping to his promise.

And this was the scene that greeted the assassin once he passed through the door.

If it were anyone else, they would've been shocked to see such an unholy sight. A bed in which lay a parent and a child, entangled in a way that hinted at what they were doing before.

Some might've even stopped to admire the exceptional figure of a naked Lily Evans. But this man was on a mission. And the only thing he thought was that he now had to carry two people.

As he leaned over and prepared to touch his wand on the boy's head, something strange happened.

He suddenly wished to die.

Working as an assassin was too annoying. Too cumbersome.

He better just shove his wand through his eye and kill himself.

It would be fun, too. He hadn't done that ever.

So he turned the wand towards himself and shoved it in his eye, pushing it in until it even pierced his brain. And he remained silent throughout it.

Then he crumpled on the floor and died in seconds.

Lily was sitting on the bed, her emerald eyes glowing murderously, taunting him to even think about touching her son.