The Hogwarts Express rattled as it switched tracks, the carriages jostling slightly. The upper years swayed with a practiced ease. A First Year dived to catch his falling owl cage. Harry sighed, practicing his deep breathing, letting his magic cycle through his core. In through his breath, out through his fingertips. Magic mindfulness, that's what he'd learned in Nepal, at the Namche Bazaar, the small town that acted as a gateway to the Himalayas proper. The sherpas there held a magic known only to themselves.
A magic understanding, Harry corrected himself. Magic was universal, but the way it was developed, understood, applied -- every country had different approaches. Some sects or towns had different approaches in the same country. But the sherpas of Namche Bazaar, theirs was a magic built solely to climb the hazardous mountains, to thrive in the high altitudes. They breathed in the magic and used it to restore their inner self. Everyone else brought it in only to immediately focus it in their wand. It was in Nepal that Tom learned about magic of the soul.
Harry was still filtering through Tom's memories, but even as he scratched the surface, he knew his soul was under threat. He no longer held that line of separation. He reached the peak of the Himalayas. He killed the sherpa for refusing to give up his secrets. And he learned it from his brethren, he razed the town to ashes, and watched it scatter away, until the white snow replaced the black and red.
Worse, he'd stopped caring. What did it matter if he was Tom or Harry if he was still so fucking weak? Power, he'd felt it. Enough to topple kings, to move mountains, to drain rivers and to fill them with the blood of his enemies. There'd been a supposed Dark Lord in Indonesia, a savage who ruled with sheer power, who scared all into submission with his reputation alone. He'd walked up to him and slayed him within eight spells, and then his lackeys, just for fun. He'd changed the course of that entire country, just on a whim. And now, he was so weak. He had but a sliver of power, like his magic dripped from a faucet when it used to rush from the seas.
Harry pressed himself to the side of the train as two boys rushed past, one holding a camera. Creevey, no doubt searching for him, unaware he was under his Invisibility Cloak. He had to wear it, to stop from sneering at the students of the most prestigious school of magic. After seven years of education, they were still nothing but puppies. What did they know of magic? He shook his head. He should have spent longer with Narcissa, and apparated to Hogsmeade instead.
He stopped the soft smile that threatened to spread on his lips. Narcissa was never far away from his thoughts, and it was that truth that had made him leave her early. He was getting too attached. The bond of love he'd engraved on her skin, her soul, had unintended side effects. As her emotions grew, his own heart stirred, no matter what he tried.
He'd taken her constantly over the few weeks they'd had together, hard. In the kitchen, he'd bent her over the table and fucked her until her legs gave out, then came all over her half-catatonic body. In the bathroom, he'd made her eat Gillyweed and blow him while he took an hours long bath, just because he could. She rode his cock while he lay in Draco's bed, and then he'd taken her once more when she bent over to try and change the subsequently soiled sheets. He'd tried hard, to stop himself from feeling so sentimental.
And when that had failed, he'd made her try. Gave her roles to play. The Astronomy teacher who gave him extra lessons past midnight. The nurse who'd grew bones with more than just Skelegrow. But when he'd had his fun, finished in her, watched her stomach balloon with his seed, she'd sink to her knees, clean his cock lovingly, finishing with a gentle kiss on his head. She'd lead him to a warm bed, pull herself against him tightly, so his hand rested on her curved belly, nestle back into his neck, wiggle her delicious bottom against his crotch and sigh happily. Then she'd say, "Thank you, Harry." and fall asleep. She defaulted to the loving, submissive, Pureblood wife, the Lady of the House, and her smile had never been wider.
When he left for Hogwarts, she cried, begging him to come back often, promising to make it worth his while. Harry shifted, readjusting his stiffening cock. Fuck. He needed to clear his head. He needed to remember why he'd come back to Hogwarts in the first place. Girls. He needed to add to his harem, to gain more power.
He took a deep breath, pulled off his cloak, and opened the door to the compartment he'd been hiding.
"Harry!" Hermione and Ron said simultaneously.
"Hey." Harry said simply, scanning his friends. Ron had shot up in height, but didn't look quite comfortable in his own skin, gangly, with awkwardly limbs not matching his wide grin. Harry felt an unexpected shot of affection. Ron had his faults, jealousy and pettiness, but he'd stuck up for Harry many times, against Draco every year and against the entire school's scorn after the Chamber of Secrets. Now, Harry reflected, he no longer needed his protection or his help. Did that mean he no longer needed his friendship? That would be too callous. But Ron would have to accept a dramatically different Harry this year.
"Where have you been, Harry? I've been so worried." Hermione swatted his shoulder and then hugged him tightly. "You could have at least written back."
"Sorry, guys. I've been going through some life changes." Harry said, somewhat understating it.
Ron snorted. "You look like your magical maturity was designed by Witch Weekly, mate."
Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew looked different, more of Tom infiltrating him, but he didn't realise it was that strong.
Hermione flushed. "Don't worry, Harry. Ron's just teasing. But you do look, very, umm...different. Very aristocratic, I think my Mum would say."
Harry surveyed his loyal friend. He wasn't the only one to grow up - she'd developed nicely, growing some real curves. Her plaid red and black skirt was just above the knees now, displaying some of her lovely legs, though it still had some way to go to match the rest of the Hogwart's girls, who'd made it considerably shorter.
"You two are looking well too. I'm glad to see you." Harry chose his words carefully.
Hermione blinked. Ron laughed.
"You alright, mate? You sound like you're reading from one of Hermione's essay's?"
Harry's smile froze on his face. Had he forgotten so much of himself? He shook his head
"Sorry. Not a lot of human contact over the summer." Not a lot of talking, that much was true. Narcissa usually had her mouth full.
"Where did you go?" Hermione said curiously. "Dumbledore said you'd left the Dursleys, he seemed quite upset."
Dumbledore, Harry considered. So consumed with his new ritual and Voldemort's memories, he hadn't paid much attention to the man. He might be a problem, if he rightly guessed that Tom had more of an influence that just a painful scar now and again.
"I found a safe place. The Dursleys, well…" Harry looked down, fidgeted with his hands. "It's easy for Dumbledore to say I'm safe there." He swallowed, hard. "It's, it's not so easy to live there and feel safe."
"Oh, Harry." Hermione gasped, hugging him tightly. He enjoyed the swell of her curves, let himself hug her fully before she pulled back.
"It's fine, guys. I'll talk to Dumbledore when I get to Hogwarts."
She bit her lip. "You should. Snuffles is back in England and we were staying with him in his house in London. Dumbledore was going to bring you there, after a few weeks at the Dursley's."
Sirius. His godfather. Was he going to forget all the people he cared about? He couldn't let himself be consumed by his split self.
"I will." Harry promised.
"Sooo," Ron began, and Harry knew what was coming before it did. "Gobstones?"
Harry looked out the window, at the sprawling green fields, the British countryside farms split by overgrown bushes, round hay bales and rounder cows. But he didn't see the vista but the future, and he knew that this compartment, Ron's offer of gobstones, a life of leisure and lack of responsibility, it couldn't be his. Not when he'd seen what life could offer. Power and promise, women of wiles, love and lust, sex and sensuality.
But for a few minutes, until he excused himself to find the more promising passengers on the train, he could pretend.
"Sure. Just one game." Harry smiled.
***
After a game of Gobstones, he excused himself, telling his friends he was going to find the bathroom and say hello to his Gryffindor teammates. They looked surprised but let him go. He threw his cloak on just as Ginny came out of her own compartment. He dismissed her - he needed witches of magic power or of wealth. Or better yet, both. Ginny was neither.
No, he already had his target for the day. It was time for Daphne Greengass to show her appreciation for saving her family. It took him little time to find her, hiding beyond a decently applied Notice-Me-Not charm on the door. He dismissed it with a wave of his wand and then entered.
Daphne sat up, startled.
"Potter! How did you get in here?"
"I saw the door and walked in?" He said, faking confusion.
"No - I mean, never mind. What do you want?" She said, flustered. He took a moment to examine her. Fuck, she was beautiful. That black and green Slytherin skirt, teasingly high on her thighs, dishevelled and rolled up as she sat. Black stockings on her long creamy legs, a little green ribbon at their tops. It was a shame her white blouse was buttoned to her neck. She had a hairbrush in her hand, her long dark hair over her chest where she'd been brushing it.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yes, thank you Potter."
"Harry!" Astoria glomped onto him, burying into his midsection. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Astoria -- that's Lord Pot-" Daphne cut off as she realised Astoria was shaking, sobbing.
"Hey, hey," Harry knelt, rubbing her back softly. "It's okay. You're safe."
Astoria wiped her wet cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid. I should be like you and not get scared."
"You're not being stupid. I get scared all the time. Death Eaters are no joke."
She gave him a dubious look. "It's true." He insisted.
"But you defeated all those Death Eaters."
Harry shrugged. "It wasn't the first time I've gone up against them. You'll be better prepared next time."
"Will I?" She gasped. "Will you teach me a spell? Daphne says you reversed gravity."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Runes are a little more tricky, but that's not a difficult one. Keep studying Ancient Runes and you'll understand the basics of what I did soon. Spells," He stroked his chin, catching Daphne's pleading eyes above Astoria's excited ones.
"How about you learn how to do and how to stop what they did to you? Take your wand out, point it at me."
"Are you sure?" She asked, biting her lip. Letting someone else point a wand at you was not usually done in the Wizarding World.
He gave her an encouraging smile. "I trust you, c'mon. Now, you want me in the air, floating upside down. The incantation is Levicorpus, but this isn't your usual 'visualisation is everything' type of spell that McGonagall always preaches. Instead of imagining the person going up into the air, you need to pretend that the ground is on the air, try and trick your magic that you're the one that's wrong. Then channel that magic into your hand and don't let it reach your wand yet."
"Got it?"
"I think so." Astoria said through gritted teeth, her hand coloring blue.
"Hold it there, and now jump."
"What?"
"Jump." Harry said, smirking. "Jumping helps you get the spell right, the first time. Remember, Levicorpus."
Astoria echoed him and then Harry laughed as he was whipped into the air, hanging by his ankle.
"Great job!"
"I did it!" Astoria clapped her hands in glee, turning to her sister. Daphne gave her a strained smile.
"Now," Harry instructed. "Liberacorpus is the incantation to get back on the ground, if it's done to you ever again. Nothing fancy, just picture yourself on the ground." He reversed it, and as soon as he landed, Astoria hugged him tightly.
"Thank you, Harry."
"No worries." He ruffled her hair. "Now I don't want to hear you getting detention because you're casting it on everyone, understand?"
She nodded rapidly. "Can I use it on my friends now? I just want to show them I can do it!" At his nod, she hugged him again and then sprinted out of the compartment, jumping up to tap the top of the door frame as she left.
Harry was left, with an amused but slightly uncomfortable Daphne. "Cute kid." He commented as he sat comfortably on the bench opposite her.
"She is. Thanks for teaching her that, and nothing darker. We try to keep her sheltered, a little."
"Her innocence might not last much longer." He warned. "Voldemort's not going to leave you alone just because he failed once."
She dipped her head. "Father's putting plans in place."
"For going abroad?"
"Perhaps."
"It won't help you." Harry said truthfully. "Voldemort's reach is greater than most realize."
"How would you know?" She sneered.
"I've been fighting him since I was a first year, since he possessed Quirrell. I killed Quirrrel and then the next year I killed a fragment of his soul and the basilisk too. I've fought him twice more since then - and I know how he thinks." He frowned at her. "Believe me, I know more about Voldemort than even Dumbledore."
Daphne's thin eyebrows twisted together. Every part of her was groomed, plucked, picture perfect, every inch the Pureblood princess. "But he's only just returned to life, hasn't he?"
"He's just returned to a physical body," Harry corrected. "But he's been back a lot longer than that. I stopped him from total domination all those years ago, and several more times since then."
Daphne bit her lip. Cute, he thought. "We suspected, but we didn't know the real story. They never tell us anything. We only knew things had happened, and you were involved. But how did you-?"
"How do I keep beating him?" Harry stretched, resting his head in his hands, faking complete nonchalance. "I've been training for this since I could walk. Dumbledore, tutors from all around the world, Unspeakables. I've had to hide it for a long time, but now the gloves are coming off."
Her lips were parted, and she quickly shut her mouth, running a strand of her hair over her ear to pause for time.
Too much information, overloading her. Harry wondered briefly if he'd overdone it.
"So there really was a basilisk?" She grasped, off-kilter.
"In the Chamber of Secrets, beneath the school." Harry admitted.
"Wow," She sat back. "What other secrets did it have?"
He smirked at her. "You know, I was too busy to explore it. Maybe we could find out sometime."
She sniffed, turning up her nose. "Just because you saved my family doesn't mean I'm going to take my panties off for you, Potter."
"And lovely panties they are too, I'm sure." Harry smirked. "Are they Slytherin green to match your skirt? Or is that too cliche?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure the Gryffindor sluts let you get anywhere with your cheap lines, Potter, but I'm a Greengrass, not one of your fangirls."
He spread his legs, forcing a little magic to his cock to harden it, letting it bulge through the expensive silk robes Narcissa had bought for him, the material supremely thin but warming nonetheless.
"A shame. I could do with a hand." His lips twitched at her poorly hidden shock. Clearly she didn't expect him to be so coarse, or so bold.
"Find Abbott. I heard she's running around the train, looking for you."
"Thank Merlin for Hufflepuffs."
"Get out, Potter." She fingered her wand.
He shook his head. "Shame. But, I'm not finished. I came here to deliver a message. I'm done playing the Golden Boy. I'm going for the kill. I'm not Dumbledore's lapdog, and I'm going to put Voldemort's head on a pike in Diagon Alley. I'm giving the Dark and the neutrals a third option - one that respects the ways of the Purebloods, of Mother Magic, or Merlin and Morgana. I don't want Muggleborns to hold the positions of power in our society - because I'm going to hold them all. I've started playing, and I'm playing for keeps."
Daphne shrunk back as he leaned forward into her space. "Keep your delusions of grandeur to your bedtime fantasies, Potter."
Harry smirked. He'd enjoy taking her, when she was ready. "Just remember, if you want to join my side, if you want protection, if you don't want to be bled dry of your prestige and respect by Dumbledore's demands, and you don't want to be murdered by Voldemort, there is a third option." He leaned closer, until his breath was hot on her ear. "This is my price. Your virginity."
Daphne stood suddenly, wand in her hand, furious, magic unleashed. "You dare?!"
Harry smiled at her sudden gumption, unbothered. "I dare."
She spat at him. "You risk angering the great House of Greengrass. Morgana's maidenhood is powerful magic."
He waved his hand dismissively. "And is sidestepped completely by a witch giving her virtue willingly. This is my price. I want you. Protect your sister, your parents, the great big mansion, all those riches. You want to stay the pureblood princess, let me fuck you."
She stared at him, unblinkingly, heaving with pure emotion. He'd stunned her into silence. She'd never expected this from Gryffindor's Golden Boy. He had to do something to shake her up.
He pulled his cock from his robes, letting it flop out in its entirety, flaccid for now. Her eyes widened as she took it in, her mouth agape. He looked obscene, standing there, fully clothed in his robes but for his huge shaft.
"Look at it." Harry taunted. "It's fucking massive, and it's not even hard. Imagine how powerful that must make me. That power could be protecting you—"
"Potter!" She screeched, snapping her wand up and flinging a nasty purple curse at him.
He laughed, muttering a shield that made it fizzle out lamely. Tom could have done that wordlessly, but she didn't need to know that. With his other hand, he stroked his cock, not stopping even to shield himself. "Come on, Princess. I'll make it good for you, make you beg for more."
"Potter—" She took a deep, long breath. "Harry. We can come to an agreement without this crassness. I can't...I can't give up my virginity. Do you understand? It would ruin not just me, but my family too. I have to give it away to my future husband, for a political marriage with someone old and rich. But, I understand a wizard as powerful as you...well, what will happen to your magic if you don't relieve yourself…" She trailed off, eyebrow arching.
Harry had a flash of insight, and thought it was perhaps thanks to his latent legilimency. She thought she could trick him, thought him a dumb innocent boy who she could make go away with just a handjob. He resisted the urge to laugh. A month ago, she'd have been right. "I understand completely."
"You do?" Daphne said cautiously.
"You need to keep your virginity. Its just I really need to get off," He stuttered. "My magic is overwhelming sometimes. If you help me, I'll make sure your family is fully protected."
He stepped forward until he was in front of her face as she sat primly, his cock hardening as he gestured to it.
"What, now?!" Daphne reeled back. He knew she thought she could buy some time to escape her predicament.
"Uh, yeah." Harry gave her an odd look. "I need to get off and you're right there, so come on then, princess."
Her face snarled, lips twisted. "Just make sure you hold up your end of the deal."
"Yeah, yeah." He grinned. "I've already saved them once, so really, you owe me."
She began, a tentative cold hand grabbing onto his cock, lightly, feeling the ridges, shifting the skin. Harry could tell within seconds that she'd never touched or even seen a cock before, her hands nervous, slow.
"Both hands might do you better." He nudged.
She glared up at him. "Shut up, Potter. It's bad enough that I have to do this, I don't want your commentary."
He shrugged. "Just trying to help."
Still, she brought up both hands to jerk him, but at first her slow, sensitive touches made him rock hard, so hard she had to sit back a little to avoid his cock touching her face. Up and down, from base to head, but she didn't know what she was doing, and as the minutes passed, Harry grew frustrated. She didn't twist her hands, didn't caress the head, didn't change the pace, didn't touch his balls. It was listless. It was unenthusiastic.
"Come on!" Harry growled. "The train won't arrive for hours yet, are you doing this on purpose because you want it to last as long as possible?"
Daphne pushed him back, eyes blazing. "Fuck you, Potter. It's not my fault your monstrosity of a cock has no nerve endings."
"Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I cum a lot in the right hands. Don't worry, I'll train you up nice and good for your future husband."
She spat at him. "Fuck off, Potter."
"Look," He held his hands up beseechingly. "I don't want this any more than you do, but this is a fair trade. Why not spit on it, you need some lube."
She shot an angry look but reluctantly spat on his cock, a nice strand of her saliva connecting to his cock before she swiped it away. Then, she began working it.
"There's a good girl." He murmured, enjoying her fury. "Now, make sure you mix it up a little. Twist your hands a little. Go tighter, go on, don't be scared, you won't hurt it. Not that death grip, sugartits."
"Do you mind?" She growled, face flushed.
"Not at all, honey. Now, base to head is a good action, but remember, you have both hands, at the head is the most sensitive part. You want to really get your hands underneath the mushroom head and really work it, you know?"
On and on she went, but still, she was too slow. It was nothing compared to Susan and Hannah's dual extravaganza.
"We're getting nowhere, here." He complained. "Are you even a witch? What sort of a witch can't get off her wizard?"
"You're not my wizard, Potter." She snapped, but he could tell her pride was hurt. "I can get you off, it's just your freak-dick is too fucking big to get my hands around."
"Look, I need to cum, Daphne. Can't you use your mouth?"
"I'm not fucking sucking it." She said defiantly, magic aura releasing. He brought his up in response, enveloping hers so entirely she swallowed and backed down. "Harry." She added, belatedly trying to be nice about it.
He ran a hand through his hair. He should have gone and found Hannah. "Ok, this time I'll get myself off, since you're so useless at it, but in return, I want to see you get yourself off. Now."
"I'm not your fucking toy, Potter."
He sneered. "No, but you're too fucking incompetent to give me a handjob, so maybe you'll be better twiddling your clit, huh? Come on, it can't be the first time you've done it. Bet you've even thought of me as you did it, right?"
"In your dreams, Potter." She snapped, although her blush made him suspect he'd hit the spot.
He shrugged. "It's either this or I shove my cock down your throat and fuck it until you choke on my load. Either that, or next time the Death Eaters show up, you can see how good the Aurors are at protecting your family."
Her eyes glared up at him, judging his sincerity. One second stretched into five before finally she spoke. "Fine, let's get this over with." She settled back on the back seat of the train carriage and pulled her legs up, hiking her skirt up around her waist, revealing her sweet creamy thighs, running up to a Slytherin green thong, satin, lacy and cut high on her hips. The thong had a telling wet spot.
"You're wet." He laughed with glee. The Slytherin Princess was getting wet for him.
"I'm not!" She snapped her head down to see, and swore under her breath when she saw it was true. She blinked away tears, unable to raise her head as she pulled the thong off quickly. She tried to hide her humiliation, but it was only emphasised by a thin line of grool that stretched from her sweet lips to her thong as she pulled it down, slipping it off her ankles and tossing it to her side.
Daphne revealed her glistening, pink pussy lips, spelled to be completely smooth and bare. Her innie lips were fat, her mound prominent.
"Look at that beatiful pussy." He breathed.
"Shut up, Potter." She snapped. "It's hard enough doing this without your caveman comments."
At his silence, she closed her eyes, slowly teasing her lips with her finger. She rubbed her clit gently. Harry grabbed her discarded wet thong and wrapped it around his cock, beginning to pump as he stood over her, his personal slut show.
"Ooh," She murmured, her eyes shut, scrunched up. She wanted to pretend he wasn't there - Harry couldn't allow that.
"Yeah, finger your pretty cunt, slut." He grinned as he stroked himself with her thong.
Her eyes jerked open, hot with anger. "Do you mind?!"
"Yeah, I do." Harry laughed. "You're so hot when you're angry. Tease that clit, my sexy Slytherin slut." He pumped harder, stepping in closer, between her open legs. Pre-cum splattered onto her thigh, and she flinched like it burned her. Still, she kept teasing herself.
"Yeah," He moaned. "You love being told what to do."
"Fuck." She slotted a finger inside and worked herself, her other hand playing with her breasts roughly, over her blouse. Harry made a mental note -- she clearly liked it rough. This time, she kept her eyes open, eyes glued to his cock as he wanked over her.
"Another finger." He ordered.
She did so without complaint, her hips beginning to rise along with her pace as she fingered herself hard. Beads of sweat ran from her hair, down her elegant long neck and under her blouse. Harry took a moment to admire her body, toned and fit, slender but with sensuous curves, her pale skin giving her an untouched, untainted innocence that he ached to despoil. Her sweaty locks plastered to her neck, her mouth open in a unspoken cry, her blouse broken open by her yearning hands, revealing reddened mauled breasts, the shlicking sound of her femininity as she fucked herself, and best of all, those pure sea blue eyes locked onto his cock as he stood over her, so close his seed splattered over her pussy lips and her questing fingers.
"Oh, oh, oh," She sang in a rising cry as she came, and he came with her, aiming at her pussy, his seed spurting onto her as she rubbed away, so her fingers were coated in his essence. Again and again he came, onto her thighs, onto her skirt, rubbing on her legs, until her entire crotch was painted white and she sat in a pool of his and her cum.
Her jaw was agape. "What the fuck?" She could only sat, empty, drained, her hands full of his seed, her skirt stained and flooded with his white ropes.
Harry could only laugh, breathing heavily, as he wiped up the seat underneath her bountiful bottom with her skimpy thong, like trying to dry the ocean with a paper towel. Then, he tossed it onto her chest.
"Best clean up and get dressed before we get to Hogwarts, slut. Don't want the others knowing you're no better than a Knockturn Alley whore, do you?"
That comment enraged her once more, and she kicked him back. "Fuck off, Potter!"
"Good work, sweetheart. That's earned you a week of protection for Astoria and your parents. Bonus too, next time you flick your bean, you can imagine all those litres of cum coating your face."
"Get out," Daphne snarled, grabbing her wand. She wasn't threatening, not with her lower half coated in his cum, her legs trembling, her blouse parted to show her reddened tips, her ruined thong sitting on her navel, her hair stuck to her face. But she was enticing, and he would have her. When she was ready.
"Fine, I'm gone." Harry stood by the doorway. "Just remember, next time Voldemort knocks, you need to make sure I come around. You need to be better at handling my cock - maybe practice on a cucumber or something. You don't want me to be too busy fucking Abbott's big knockers, do you?" And with that, he was gone, barely dodging a flurry of spells launched at the door.
Harry couldn't help but grin as he left the carriage, adjusting his robes. It was going to be a great year. These witches were careful, and progress was slow in actually adding to his harem, but he knew he'd found some leverage he could use to part their thighs. With Hannah, it was her hero worship. With Susan, it was the power. With Daphne, it was her family. With all of them, it would take time. But he'd have them.