Harry gasped for breath. Thirty seconds in and he was struggling. The racks of bodies slid out of their cabinets, pale corpses spilling out limply. Bellatrix used one sagging grandmother as her body-shield, maneuvering her around with her hair, each of Harry's curses chunking the corpse into a skeleton.
Hannah was somehow untouched between them, though she was covered in a dusting of roof-rock and plaster.
Meanwhile, Harry had created a dodgy shield for himself using bookcases, the doorframe and even upturned brick from the alley itself. Bellatrix hadn't a touch on her, while her spells slammed through shields.
She had pure power — and beyond that, decades of fighting experience. An electric shock spell that ran through the floorboards like a rat and bit at his foot. An animated light fixture that wrapped around his neck. A stapler that fired gunshot-fast staples at his eyes.
She'd even launched a man's body at him, a chubby naked man who Harry vaguely recognized as Ernie Macmillan's father. His sad eyes stared back at Harry even now.
He couldn't keep up. Even with a host of Tom's tricks in his head, he got out one spell barrage in the time it took her to hit him with a barrage, charm him from below and destroy him from above.
"Stop hurting women, Harry." Bellatrix jerked her elderly lady-shield around, eyes peering through a newly created hole in her chest. "It's very last century."
"Brackium Emendo." He muttered - Ernie's dad's leg bones patched together in a quiet crack, the first step in a stupid plan that might just work.
Harry willed his heart to calm, searching for a plan. He had to do better than this. Even if he hadn't searched through them, organized them, Tom's memories were still in his head. How had he dominated the mad woman?
Dueling advice from a hundred different tutors, most of which he'd since killed.
When the environment is unfavorable, change the environment.
He could do that. "Deprimo." He muttered, the black-shaded spell splashing into the ground. Harmless, for a second. Then the floorboards exploded in a thunderous crash, planks pulping as they were ground inward by an invisible force. A construction digger made into a spell, and soon the undertaker's shop had a healthy hole in it.
A black void below of piping and soil, rebar mixing with wood, water hissing down.
"Looking for an escape, Potter?" Bellatrix laughed.
But Harry was more interested in what came up than going down.
"I'm sorry about this." He said to Ernie's dead dad, holding him up by his clammy cold neck. "Really sorry."
Harry raised the body over his shield and shouted. "Expulso!"
Ernie's dad shot forward towards Bellatrix, clipping his head on the hanging lamp-shade and dropped like a stone into Harry's newly created hole.
Bellatrix roared with laughter. But Harry just grinned — that worked perfectly.
Now to buy time.
He stood over his shield and instantly caught a hardcover book to the face. He reeled back and to his alarm, the book kept coming up, its covers nashing like a crocodile. He dispelled it and the papers split into daggers, slicing up his arms, projectile papercuts.
A shadow of movement above him. Harry stepped aside just as the ceiling came down above him, a full steel folder-cabinet smashing down from the floor above.
He twisted his wand and shot birds up over his cover. Birds, then bubbles, flowers — then a whipped Engorgio to splash against them all, creating huge chaos in the tiny room. Birdsong, pops, laughter.
"You're so fun!" Bellatrix complimented him, popping a huge bubble happily.
Harry's reply of a Reducto-Diffindo pairing was less appreciated, he imagined. He wiped the blood from his face, spilling from one of many cuts, and peered through a hole in his shielded doorframe.
Ernie's dad pulled himself through the hole in the shop, head hanging loosely on his neck, Harry's animation spell working wonders.
Hannah, it would be great if you woke up anytime now. Harry thought through his bond. No response.
Time to up the ante.
Harry poked his head up, ducked a nasty curse, dispelled a tornado of limbs that Bellatrix had been working on for minutes, and then bit out an Avada Kedavra. The green glow lit the shop up, every paper rustling as something supernatural rushed through the air.
"Harry Potter!" Bellatrix said, shocked. "An Unforgivable? The Unforgivable? I'm so proud of you."
"Fuck off, Bella."
"That had real hatred behind it. It really would have killed me." She said happily. "You're really more than you look, you know. I see why Master likes you."
"Fuck off, Bella." He repeated, more than happy to keep her talking. He needed time.
"Don't be boring, now." She chided. "I didn't know we were allowing Unforgivables, I was keeping this fun and light! But, if you insist…"
Harry went prone on the floor as the Killing Curse shot over him, the blinding green light that he saw in his nightmares. He slithered his hand up to answer and a single finger was caught by the Cruciatus.
He screamed, his bones on fire, knives inside his body, piercing his heart, his liver, his veins, his head bursting with pained madness. He fell behind his cover and the Curse was dropped, leaving him sweating, gasping, finished.
"Ooh, that one hurt." Bellatrix teased. "Whoopsie-daisy. It seems like Azkaban has left with me some anger issues."
Harry just moaned, wondering where Ernie's dad had got to. From where he lay on the ground, he could see through a hole in his increasingly porous cover. And the dead body was crawling slowly over the mass of bodies on the floor.
It was his Plan A, B and C. It could not fail.
He had to stand up in time. But his body didn't respond to his orders.
Stand up. His head raised weakly.
Stand up! His chest rose and then crashed back to the floor.
Get the fuck up! And he rose to his knees, crawling forward.
"This has been fun, Hawwy, but it's time to go. Daddy will be wondering where I've got to. Ooh, your girl has such good skin, what's her secret? I must ask! Don't worry, we'll mail you parts of your busty blonde, I'm guessing you want her tits first—gah!"
Ernie's dad grabbed her ankle, holding her still. Harry leaned over his cover just in time to shoot a Killing Curse toward her. Bellatrix's eyes went wide. And then she popped away, hurriedly Disapparating. The green curse splashed against the back wall, making the shop walls vibrate. Plaster spilled from the ceiling.
Someone in the next building over banged on the wall angrily.
But the shop was silent. The battle not won but a victory none the less. Water hissed onto the ground.
Harry blinked through the building dust, through the wetness in his eyes from the Cruciatus.
Not water, he realized. Blood. Hannah's shoulder — a bloody pouring stump, her arm gone, splinched by Bellatrix's sudden apparition. Ernie's dad's arm was gone too.
That was the only reason Bellatrix hadn't returned — she was satisfied with her trophy.
"Fuck." Harry scrambled forward, tripping over bodies and debris. "Hannah!"
She groaned senselessly. He scooped her up in his arms, looking over his poor girl, his throat thick with guilt and rage. He swallowed the lump and began casting every spell he knew.
A stunning spell to put her out. Cauterizing the wound, stopping the blood, healing it as best he could.
But her arm was gone. Bellatrix was gone. There was no getting it back.
He took her in his arms and Disapparated.
Malfoy Manor.
"Harry!" Narcissa in her night robe, panic in her eyes.
"I'm okay." He said simply, without emotion. But her hands held him, searched him, rubbing against cuts and wounds he'd forgotten about. "I'm okay." He repeated, with more force. "Help me."
Finally, her eyes found Hannah. "Of-of course."
They took her to the living room, to the chaise-lounge that he'd taken Narcissa on many a time. Now, they spilled red onto the cream cushions.
Hannah kept waking, pain and panic. Again, her blue eyes found his, relief in her gaze.
"You're okay." She murmured drowsily.
"My Hannah." Harry cried out, pressing her face to his, pressing kisses against her, his heart beating furiously. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Her hand stroked his hair. "Sorry for what? You saved me."
"Not…not all of you." He withdrew and for the first time, she noticed her shoulder, the arm that was lost.
Harry watched the emotions play across her face. Her shock into grief, grief into blankness. Her blank face turned into darting eyes, taking in the situation. Darting across his cuts, dismissing Narcissa beind him, Hannah's hand patting him for serious injuries, then staring into his gaze. Her remaining hand found his cheek.
"I love you. And as long as you're safe, that's all matters." Hannah told him. "I'm sorry — she caught me by surprise. I was weak, stupid."
He ran his thumb over her lip. "Don't, don't say that. You — Bellatrix, she, she's too powerful, even for me."
Narcissa took a heavy gasp, behind him. Her own sister. But Harry had eyes only for his Hannah, his brave girl.
"I'll be stronger." Hannah's promise spilled out, her eyes glistening with tears. "I'll study more, practice fighting."
"You don't need to—"
"I do!" She insisted, eyes burning. "And-and you can still fuck me. I'll still be good in bed, I promise, even with one hand."
"Han—"
"And my tits are just as good, and I'm still tight and wet for you, and I've been practicing to suck you—"
"Hannah." He wrapped his hand through her hair, forcing her blue eyes to meet his hard emerald stare. "You're mine and you always will be."
With that, she burst into tears, shock turning to wails. Her body wracked with sobs as he held her. Harry held her tight, swearing to himself that he would have his revenge. Revenge upon Voldemort's whore, on all of them, the whole Inner Circle. The Lestranges, his snake, even pathetic little Peter.
Peter. Harry blinked. Peter with the silver hand. The hand that Tom had given him, the magic so recent in his mind, his memories, the vision of seeing it from both pairs of eyes.
He knew this magic.
Harry stumbled back, staring at Hannah's stump.
"Harry?" Hannah said, hurt, her one hand reaching out to him. He ignored her, whirling his wand through the air, his mind awash with the spell and the intent needed. This was difficult magic.
Molten silver sizzled in the air, hanging in the air, gleaming in the living room's candlelight. A straight line of silver turned into an amorphous squirming blob that, with a swish of his wand, writhed into being. Fingers became a hand, a hand became an arm, gleaming bright, which hovered down and fixed to Hannah's stump.
Hannah looked at him, agape, and then to her new arm. She poked it hesitantly. And then her arm twitched and she brought it up, held it out. Her hand turned to a fist, flexed open and then closed.
She looked up at him, her lip shuddering. She was a mess, bloody, bruised, dirty, her blouse ripped open, bra askew, a run in her stockings, eyes puffy. His beautiful mess, her smile true and glowing.
"Thank you." She said meaningfully. "I..thank you, thank you, thank you." Hannah chanted, climbing forward to jump him.
He hugged her, held her so tight she squeaked. He'd almost lost her, he thought, shuddering at the mere notion. As his girls became his, so too did he become theirs — that was what Voldemort didn't understand.
Their bond, their love. It was true. And even if it was true what Voldemort said, how their deaths would weaken him as much as their love empowered him, that didn't make them liabilities. It just meant that he had all the more reason to keep them safe, though he didn't need to.
His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest as he stroked Hannah's messy hair, falling out of her usual braid, the girl so content she was purring.
Her hands pulled away his clothing, Narcissa behind him to help. But when Hannah's silver hand came to sit against his naked chest, he couldn't help but flinch.
It was cold. And worse, when he saw it, he could think only of the traitor Pettigrew. Of the ritual, of Voldemort's renewal, the gruesome birth.
Unknowingly, he let Hannah go, stepped back, eyes wide as he stared at her limb.
"Harry…" Hannah's chin trembled.
"I…I'm not in the mood, Han." He bit out, his eyes locked on her silver arm.
"Oh, okay." The color drained from her face and she forced a smile, turning her body to hide her arm.
Narcissa disappeared from behind Harry, leaving them alone in the big room. The Hufflepuff girl took big hitching breaths, trying to keep her grief from reaching up to her throat, to her eyes.
Her big blue eyes watered all the same, her mind awash with her new realities, all the thoughts she tried to deny but couldn't. Harry didn't want her anymore — she was damaged. Ruined.
A space between them. Harry was there but not there, locked in his own mind.
"Maybe this will help." Narcissa murmured gently, appearing once more. This time, she held a long satin glove in a gentle, neutral yellow. An opera glove, Hannah realized.
She let the beautiful older woman bring her silver arm up, let her slide the glove over her fingers and up her arm, covering the silver completely. Hannah just stared at Harry, wishing his gaze would love her again.
And when Narcissa was finished, when the Malfoy mother took her arm and brought it once more to Harry's chest, he did not flinch. Not as her fingers ran up her chest, not as they caressed his chin, his cheek. Not as she kissed him and brought him back from his mind to reality.
"I'm sorry." Harry muttered shamefully, capturing her satin-gloved arm and feeling it. It was warm, he realized, in reality, the silver not silver but something like it, thrumming with warm magic. Hannah's loving magic.
"I'm grateful." Hannah countered. "My master fought for me, risked his life, healed me, made me this new arm."
"I…what I've done to you both." He gasped for breath, feeling suffocated. "Tom, Voldemort-I mean, that witch, they're right. I've trapped you—"
"They're wrong." She said firmly. "You've trapped me in happiness no girl has ever known."
"And I." Narcissa added softly from behind him, her breath tickling his ear as she wrapped her arms around him. Together they hugged him, held him as he shook. Hannah's eyes met Narcissa's, conveying a silent thank you.
Narcissa jerked her chin. "My love, you're hurt and bleeding. We need to wash you."
Harry was overwhelmed, tired, his throat so tight it was painful, every breath painful. He let himself be led to a bath that was already filling, because his Cissy always knew what he needed.
And in moments, he was soothed, the hot water washing away his aches. The bathroom scented with nectarines, Narcissa's scent of choice, in her perfume, in her bath oils.
"Close your eyes, my love. Relax. We have you." Narcissa whispered. And so he did, retreating to the comfort of the black. The water rocked as they joined him, hands caressing his cuts, healing them up, kneading away knots of muscles, massaging aches he didn't know he had.
The bond told them how he hurt, and his girls healed him.
Their soft legs slid against his, their buxom chests rubbing against him from both sides. They whispered sweet nothings as they washed him. His neck, his shoulders, his chest.
One of them rubbed his feet while the other kneaded a tightness in his side.
And then, their soft caresses found his hard shaft, his eyes opened. He let himself drink in their naked flesh, his enormously busty girls deliberately trailing their pink nipples across his skin, the soapy bubbles coating their bodies, making them slick and fulfilling a fantasy he hadn't known he'd had.
His mind went back to the bath he'd taken with Hannah and Susan, the double handjob they'd given him, his cock twitching at the memory.
Like then, Hannah and Cissy jerked his cock in unison. Three tight bare hands and one wet satin glove, the only thing Hannah wore, gently tugging his huge cock.
"I love you so much." Hannah moaned into his neck, like she was the one being pleasured, grinding and sliding back and forth on his thigh. "My master is oooh—so good, so fucking good, I mean, so good to me."
Narcissa kneaded his balls gently, pressing kisses to his cheek. "Master protects us so we have to be good naughty girls for him, always." She teased.
"Good and naughty?" Harry said, his voice raspy.
"Good and obedient. Submissive." Hannah added.
"Naughty in that we always push it one step further." Narcissa explained, rolling his heavy balls in her hand. And, like they'd planned it, Hannah slid down his body and wrapped his cock between her huge soapy tits, looking up at him through wide innocent eyes as she began to work her tits up and down his cock.
"Does that feel good, Master?" Hannah said with mock-innocence.
Harry just groaned at the sensations, his cock sliding through the tight wet tunnel that Hannah pressed together for him. The heat mixed with the soft wetness of her tits felt incredible, the sight of his Hufflepuff slut squirming up and down for him, while Cissy played with his cum-filled balls.
"Doesn't she have the biggest breasts you've ever seen, Harry?" Narcissa teased. "Why, I thought I was your submissive busty slut." She rose up, arching her chest out, water dripping off her own magnificent bosom. And then she dipped her nipples into his eager mouth, squealing at his suckling and biting.
His hips came up to thrust through Hannah's tit-tunnel, the shlick-schlapp rhythm picking up, soapy skin smacking together.
His feet quivered at the sensations, his cock greased up and ensonsced in Hannah's perfect tits, worked up and down eagerly. He couldn't help but hump up as Narcissa worked his balls, fucking his cock through Hannah's squeezed flesh, her soapy tits spilling out of her hands, too mammoth to contain.
His shaft popped out of her tits, just barely, so large were her breasts.
"Aren't her breasts just perfect?" Narcissa said, tone sultry. "Don't they feel so good around your cock?"
"Fuck, yes." Harry groaned.
"Don't you want to cover her breasts in cum? And her face? Hasn't she been a good girl for you?" She continued.
"Yes, yes, yes." Harry chanted.
"Harry's magic has made our breasts bigger, hasn't it, Hannah? Master wants us to have big fuckable breasts, so big that we just look like silly sluts, silly breeding sluts for Master to cum all—"
"Fuck!" Harry growled, arching up one final time, his balls tight in Narcissa's soft grip, his cock-skin sliding up and down in Hannah's stroking tits, Cissy's words getting to him, Hannah's eager faux-innocent teenage schoolgirl face ready to be covered. He came, hot spurts of jizz shooting up. For a glorious long moment, he was buried in Hannah's warm craned mouth, unloading onto her lapping tongue, and then he was free, being jerked by her creamy wet tits onto her face.
"That's it, Master. Cover her face, cover her breasts, paint her white." Narcissa said softly.
"Cum, cum, cum." Hannah cried, mindless with lust, trembling as she came from just the pleasure loop from the bond, from her wet kitty grinding against his thigh, from the heat of his cock and the scent of it.
He spurted all over her face as she leaned over his cock, and then more still over her thick tits, covering them in his cream, the soft flesh spilling from her hands, her mountains covered in white ropes, ropes trailing down her neck.
"Mark her as your loving cumslut." Cissy kept talking dirty, hands working to rid him of all of his seed. "She loves you so much, just like I do. Cover her in cum so everyone knows you own her."
Finally, Harry gasped out his last drops of cum, collapsing back into the bath and breathing heavily.
"You've made her so pretty, Master." Narcissa said provocatively and Harry drank the sight in. His Hannah, covered in a thick glaze of cum from her face to her waist, eyes closed in sensuous delight, her hands rubbing her tits gently, fingers catching his cum and rubbing into her skin.
Her eyes fluttered open, ardent adoration in them. How could this much love be wrong, he told himself.
"Thank you, my Harry." Hannah crooned.
"Thank you, my love." Narcissa added, nipping at his ear. "For letting us take care of you. It means a lot, more than you know."
"I…thank you, both of you." They sidled to each side, letting him squeeze them both, giggling as he caught his breath. "I'll — I'll never let him hurt you. Let anyone hurt you." His jaw set. "You're mine."
"Yours." They chorused.
###
When Harry awoke from his nap, it was still the early hours of the morning, the sun yet to rise. His bed was cold and empty, making him frown. He'd gone to bed in the warm embrace of both Hannah and Narcissa.
His feet burrowed into Malfoy Manor's plush carpets as he searched for his lovers, following the voices.
"—I'm saying is that we need to add more girls, as fast as possible. If the Dark Lord knows, Harry is in so much danger." Cissy's voice.
"Ze right girls!" Apolline had Floo'd over in the night, it seemed. "Not these dumb, worthless girls. We need strong wands, witches of real magic. He says he hasn't even bonded us fully, yet, so how much worth is a simple schoolgirl? They will only cause a burden on his mind."
"That—"
"That is my concern, not yours." Harry said simply, stepping into the kitchen. His three blondes were nestling cups of tea as they leaned across the kitchen island, the marble counter like a warzone.
"'Arry!" Apolline hugged him, her nipples pointing through a thin champagne camisole that extended down to her thighs. "I'm sorry, I felt you were hurt through the bond but I couldn't get away until the night, so I came over, I know it's not my place, but I'm so—"
"It's okay, it's okay." He stroked her hair softly, holding her tight. "I know you mean well." He led her back to the kitchen island and sipped from her tea.
"I know you all mean well." He added, seeing Narcissa about to speak. "But I also don't want to wake up alone again in this house, do you understand?"
Cissy flushed pink. "Sorry, Master."
"It was my fault." Hannah bit her lip. "I heard the Floo and then she came through and she wouldn't understand."
"I was just trying to understand how you got hurt." Apolline argued.
"It will not be the last time, girls. There's no sense in blaming. This is a war, even if not everyone has woken up to that fact."
"We…we just want you to be safe. You should have asked me to watch your back yesterday." Narcissa said, her hair falling over her face as she looked down at her tea, her white negligee's strap falling off her shoulder and threatening to expose the cleavage that already burst from the sides.
"And if you were seen in Knockturn Alley without your husband?" Harry pursed his lips. "Apolline was busy in France — she's still the lady of her house. Hannah was my only choice."
"I…we just worry."
"And I love you for it." He pulled her into his side, kissed her forehead. "And none of you are wrong. If Voldemort knows how the bond works, how I'm going to grow my power, I need more girls, fast."
"I wish we were enough." Hannah muttered bitterly.
"And I would be content with you three forever, but it can't be like that." Harry said gently.
"We have to encourage him." Apolline stepped on Hannah's foot.
"I know that, you French—"
"And we need to work together, not argue." Narcissa's voice was sharp, a reminder that she was the cold Malfoy matriarch at one point, not just Harry's lusty mistress.
Hannah's face went red, ashamed. She'd stolen one of Cissy's white bras, which was doing a poor job of keeping her pendulous tits in. A matching pair of panties covered up her pussy, though it did nothing to cover up her pillowy ass-cheeks.
"You're right." She said softly. "I'll do better to work on Susan." She declared.
"You must." Narcissa urged. "She's too important to let get away. Her political power and connections could protect Harry so much more than pure wand power."
"My daughter is going out clubbing this Saturday, remember, Harry?" Apolline interjected, her eyes wide and imploring. "She'd be a good witch for you, ma chérie, I'd make sure of it."
"But-but, Harry," Narcissa whined. "Helena is this weekend and you promised—"
"I did, and I will." Harry pinched her ass under her negligee. "Settle down. I'll take her on Sunday." He leaned over to kiss his pureblood mistress, his first, his heart. "Don't worry, Cissy. I'm going to have you slurping my seed from her pussy as soon as I've taken her cherry, would you like that?"
She flushed red, burrowing her face into his neck, hitting his chest when he laughed. "Harry!" She fretted. "You're so bad."
"One happy family." He teased. "I'll get her to lick your lips clean of my cum once you've made her cum with your tongue."
"Stop!" She complained, shivering under his roaming hands.
"But Helena is not going to be an issue." Harry said confidently. "Fleur, however, will be. She's not going to give up her virginity, not if a Veela's virginity is as important as you say it is, Apolline."
Apolline nodded, biting her lip, her thighs squirming together, Harry's words having made her imagine similar situations with her own daughter. "I have a plan, 'Arry."
"Oh?"
"I think…if you target her friend. Marie."
"Marie." Harry said thoughtfully, thinking back to the sexy brunette at the soiree in Delacour estate, with some of the longest legs he'd ever seen.
"Not an unattractive proposition, non? Fleur is the jealous kind. Very jealous. She ripped apart Gabrielle's teddy bear as a child when she was sick and we were, ah, how do you say? Doting? Doting on her."
"She was a child, though?" Harry frowned.
"Old enough to know better. And she hasn't changed, believe me, I am 'er mother." Apolline waved an elegant hand. "Take her friend, her closest friend. Do it in front of her. Marie will be easy, she is no pureblood, no saint. And after, tell Fleur that it is love, true love."
"Love?"
"Oui. When Fleur can no longer reach her best friend for coffee or lunch, she'll be enraged, full of ze envy. And then you must take Marie out, cover her in gifts and jewelery." Apolline giggled suddenly. "As you fuck our poor little flowers, you must fuck my daughter's mind."
Harry hummed, thinking of Fleur and Marie, a smile spreading across his face. "Well, if you insist…"
"I do." Apolline said proudly. "I am not ashamed of what you will have me do with my daughter, 'Arry. We will share your seed with great pride."
He swallowed away the visions in his imagination and was left with a hungry, sultry Veela mother in reality, biting her lip, eyes full of promise.
"Thank you, Apolline. I'll be at the club this Saturday, we'll see how things go."
"It is Halloween, my love. She will be dressed most…scandalously, if recent years are anything to go by."
"Good to know. I'll put on my teddy bear costume." Harry teased.
"More like a horse, I think." Hannah giggled.
Narcissa snorted and despite herself, Apolline smiled too.
"Okay, who else?" Harry asked. "I'm looking for advice here, ladies."
"In other words, Harry wants to know where to put his cock." Narcissa said dryly.
"I have a few ideas." Apolline pushed her chest forward.
"You're too late." Hannah grinned triumphantly. "We drained him."
"A man like 'Arry is never satiated." The dangerous French veela sidled around, her hand dropping to his cock. "I knew it!"
"Okay, work time now, play time later." Harry swatted her ass, enjoying the loud clap of her well-cushioned rear.
"As you wish, Master." She said, but she still arched her back so his cock was ensconced between her soft cheeks.
"Susan is the highest priority. She's too powerful to keep in the game. It's fine if you're enjoying the hunt, but—"
"I'm not even leading the hunt." Harry admitted. "I showed her too much of my manipulative side and now she's running scared."
"I'll work on her." Hannah promised. "You just need to show her how much good she can do, if she married you."
"Marriage is the problem." Harry grumbled. "Whoever I chose, I lose."
"Numbers are the game, Master, not marriages. And I know you like that pretty Chinese girl—"
"Cho?" Hannah wrinkled her nose.
"—but China isn't even in the game, at the moment. Voldemort has nothing there."
"Which means China could hide my greatest edge." Harry countered.
"This war will be played out in Britain." She told him. "So Bones and Greengrass are the best pairing."
"It won't look good if I marry one witch from each side, I'll come off as playing the fence and they'll lose favor from their bloc."
"Or you'll come off as the centralist, that third option between Dumbledore and the radical conservatives, who is willing to listen to everyone."
Harry sighed. "You're probably right."
"But by all means, take Chang as a mistress or a whore." Cissy kissed his cheek, gently pushing on his backside so his cock rubbed further against Apolline. She let out a long sensuous moan. "I want it all for you, my beloved."
"My love." He kissed her ardently, pouring all his love into his kiss.
"We need to talk about the Veela." Apolline said suddenly, eager for the return of his attention. "There's still the open invite to the Veela Court."
"I have no idea how to play that." He admitted.
"Slowly." She counseled, looking back at him even as she splayed herself on the counter, her silvery blonde hair falling onto the marble and framing her gorgeous face. "They are intrigued. I mean, the Princess herself is intrigued, but she's not going to fuck you just because you have that glorious cock."
"This glorious cock?" Harry teased, sliding it up and down her wet folds.
"You are so naughty, Master." She gasped, wriggling her bum as she tried to entice him into her.
"What can I do with her?"
"Bargain with her."
"Bargain. What can I offer the Veela?"
"Power is what they seek. Land, too. And one place, most desperately, in ze Riviera. The mermaids run wild there, and refuse to give it up, for centuries now. Kill the mermaid tribe, all of them." She said simply.
Harry blinked. "Kill them?"
She set her jaw firmly. "The whole tribe, Master. Mermaids have no la chatte, Master. They are useless to you. But the Veela can be the army you seek, a whole 'arem of sexy submissive girls desperate to please you. Wouldn't you like zat, Master?"
"I don't know if I want to massacre a whole—"
"She might be right, Master." Narcissa nibbled at his ear lobe. "This war is going to get nasty. And to fight the Dark Lord, we'll need to do things we don't like. The Veela would make you strong." Her cheek pressed against his as she blinked away tears. "Make you safe."
"It won't be easy." Apolline warned. "The mermaids are strong and have defended themselves from the Veela more than once. But do that and the Princess will let you take her, for a week or one night, I do not know."
"I only need once." Harry said quietly, his mind thrumming with thoughts of death. Could he really do such a thing?
Maybe.
He was part Tom, after all. And Tom would. Tom had.
"I've seen you with that new student, Harry." Hannah piped up.
"She's an Auror. Nymphadora Tonks." Harry said absent-mindedly. "Amelia stationed her at Hogwarts to keep me safe. Keep an eye on me, more like."
"My niece?" Narcissa said in surprise. "My, my, Master. You really do have a fetish."
"Honestly, I didn't think about that. Is she—"
"My sister Andromeda's daughter." Narcissa breathed into his ear and rained kisses down his neck. "Is that what you want, Harry? To have me lapping your seed from both my daughter and my niece. My master is so naughty."
Harry hardened even more as he slid his cock slowly back and forth, enveloped between Apolline's soft flesh, his cock being lubricated by her wet, dripping folds.
"Maybe I can get in her head, as a strictly neutral party, of course." Cissy moaned as his hand goosed her asscheeks.
Hannah, pouting from being left out from the run, came to his other side. Only instead of taking his side and lathering him in kisses and her bountiful breasts, like Cissy, she instead dropped to her knees and retrieved his cock from between Apolline's eager folds, sinking it into her throat.
Her soft gurgles and chokes filled the air and Harry breathed out a heavy sigh at her lapping tongue and warm wet mouth.
"I'm almost done with the ones I'm playing with." Harry bit out, wrapping his hand in Apolline's hair and pulling her head back as she swayed her ass enticingly. "Hermione. Daphne. Katie, maybe."
"You need adults. Real women." Apolline hissed. "Not these silly schoolgirls." She jabbed.
Hannah just gurgled noisily, deliberately, around his cock, holding his ass as he thrust into her throat.
"It's useless." Narcissa bemoaned. "Harry just takes what he gets. Our big, strong Master with his monstrous cock. He'll just take and take and fuck and fuck—"
Cissy was in one of her moods again, Harry figured. But as he slid out of Hannah's milking throat and ordered his Huffleslut to guide him into Apolline's weeping cunt, he thought that maybe that was what he'd have to do.
Veela, Mermaids, Pureblood mothers and daughters both — he'd just take everything in his path. Because if he didn't, then Voldemort wouldn't even need to sweep him aside. Bellatrix had outfought him easily, toying with him, laughing at him.
The thought enraged him, making him thrust more powerfully into his Veela's cunt, his groin slapping against her delectable ass, her wide eyes staring back at him as he forced her head back with his tight hair-grip. He slapped her ass, wishing for a moment that it was Bellatrix beneath him, humiliated, submissive, his.
The memories of Tom and her filled his mind, memories of her beautiful and eager, younger and desperate to please.
Narcissa bit his ear lobe. "Take her, take her, take her."
He would. He'd take them all.