They carefully descended down the steep spiral staircase of the Astronomy Tower, unsure what they'd find.
The castle shook with each roar of the dragon, glass panes rattling in their frames. But down the stairs and through the corridors, they heard no voices.
No faces, but for those of the paintings. But where there should have been portraits of Damara Dodderidge and Godric Gryffindor, it was Lady Chang who looked out at them.
"He must really love his wife." Hermione said. "If she's affecting the mindscape this much."
Harry hummed. Lady Chang did nothing, said nothing, but she stared at them unsettlingly.
Closer to the Great Hall, they finally heard voices. A banner hung limply from the top of the hall doors. HOGWARTS WELCOMES THE PARENTS OF ITS BEST AND BRIGHTEST.
Hermione had imagined a parent-teacher conference to help Lord Chang understand his own presence at Hogwarts.
"Is that the best you could do?" Daphne said, unimpressed. "A banner?"
"We had a similar banner at the Yule Ball." Hermione snapped her fingers. "Oh, yes, didn't Nott take you to the ball?"
"So what?" Daphne glared.
"How did he get you to accept? I've heard about your…predilections. Did he promise to finger your behind? Can you even make a sentence when you haven't got a puppeteer in your bottom?" The Gryffindor smirked.
The beautiful blonde sniffed. "The ball you took that Hungarian oaf to, you mean?"
"He's Bulgarian—"
"Same third-world cesspit—"
"Bulgaria is a beautiful country—"
"Oh, so you want to marry Krum, do you?"
"I'm just saying, an international Quidditch star is hardly comparable to a dark fencesitter like Nott—"
Daphne's cheeks pinked with triumph. "So you'd rather have Krum than Harry, is that it?"
Hermione laughed. "Please, you really think you can put a wedge between me and Harry?" Her hand reached for his. "Harry had my heart before he ever had my womanhood."
"Maybe you shouldn't be cavorting with his competitor, then—"
"Ladies." Harry said sharply. "Not the time." He pinched both their bottoms. "I made Helena and Hermione into friends by having them swap my cum while they kissed. Is that what you want me to do to you?"
"I wouldn't go near her snake lips—" Hermione hissed.
"I wouldn't want your Bulgarian diseases, bitch—"
"Then stop giving me a headache. We're on a mission." He ordered, scowling.
"Sorry, Harry." Hermione said, cheeks burning.
"Sorry, hubby." Daphne said demurely.
He gave a short stinging swat to Daphne's behind. "Don't think I don't see you winding her up. Don't make me take away your…gift."
He stalked off before she could answer, knowing they'd follow after their glaring match. Inside the Hall, it was no more peaceful — the loud clamor of panic and fear was headache-inducing.
"How did it get through the wards?" One mother shouted, holding her daughter behind her.
"Where is Dumbledore in all this?" Lord Goyle demanded.
The Headmaster wasn't there, but there were plenty of figures who shouldn't be. Aurors lined the wall, except none that Harry recognised — all of them looked Chinese. Chang's subconscious security force.
Harry's eyes found Lord Chang immediately. He looked perturbed, his wand drawn, but he wasn't yelling.
Their group received some odd looks, but nothing lingered.
"Are they—" Daphne began.
"Act normal and they won't know we don't belong." He murmured.
"What's normal when there's a dragon outside?" Hermione jabbed.
"Do not panic, ladies, gentlemen." Professor McGonagall had her wand to her throat to amplify herself. "You are not in any danger. Please head towards the dungeons, while we deal with this…oddity."
"It's not an oddity, it's a bloomin' dragon!" Arthur Weasley exclaimed, his hands in his hair.
The parents grumbled and complained, but they slowly trailed out of the Hall, along with their kids.
"This is our chance." Harry told the others. "We grab him and take him somewhere quiet. Mione?"
"Umm…the Chamber?" She suggested, nibbling anxiously on her lower lip.
"Apolline?" Harry asked. "Can you work your magic with a dead basilisk next to you?"
She sniffed, twirling her hair around her finger. "Ze basilisk itself will rise from ze dead."
"Her fake French accent gets stronger everyday." Daphne muttered to Hermione.
"'Ow is it fake, you silly leetle—"
"Enough, ladies." Harry rolled his eyes. "Let's move."
Out of the hall, they moved in a tight grip, barging through the crowd.
"Once we do this, we're on a timer." Harry told them.
They nodded.
Nothing for it.
He sidled through a gap between Neville and a Ravenclaw and accidentally stumbled into the back of Lord Chang.
"Stupefy." Harry murmured under his breath. The red light glowed across the man's spine, his body sagging. With Apolline, he hoisted under his shoulders.
"I think he's fainted." Hermione told the crowd as they marched forward.
But the illusory figures in the crowd had stopped short. Their faces turned hard, their eyes narrowing. One by one, they fell silent.
"They sense something foreign." Hermione murmured.
"And it's not Chang." Daphne jibed.
"Which way?" Harry said urgently. The crowd pushed forward, jostling him.
"Up the stairs!" She cried.
Up the Grand Staircase. As their feet touched onto the very first step, there were already hands on their shoulders, pulling them back into the baying crowd.
"Get off!" Harry growled, whipping his wand round — and from it coiled a whip of crackling green lightning, like his scar had come to life and pulsated out of his wand's tip.
The crowd — students, teachers, parents, a body of blank-faced features — reared back, allowing them up to stumble up the steps.
And when they turned to follow, Hermione muttered a charm and the stairs below them turned into a slide, sending their chasers slipping back.
"Wha?" Daphne said in amazement.
Hermione flashed her a proud smile. "I designed this place, remember? Runes and tricks."
"And shortcuts?" Harry reminded.
"There's a cupboard in Umbridge's office that'll lead to the Chamber." She said.
On the second floor, they darted for the office of the DADA teacher's office. The room was just like real life — some of the pink wallpaper was peeling from the walls. Some mischievous boys had scribbled DING DONG THE BITCH IS GONE on the wallpaper, in a green paint that Filch had tried three times to remove.
But when Hermione yanked open the supply cupboard in the corner, the stairs down to the Chamber of Secrets awaited.
Harry cast a Cushioning Charm on the stone steps and roughly shoved Lord Chang down it.
"Go do your thing, Frenchie." Daphne pointed down the staircase.
"I am not a whore." Apolline scowled.
"Shouldn't that be 'ore? Or did your accent slip again?" Daphne smirked.
"Girls," He warned. "Not the time. Apolline, nothing crazy — we just need him horny enough that his second layer of Occlumency walls are weak."
"A job for a woman, not a girl." The Veela agreed, unbuttoning her blouse. "What about you?"
Harry stilled, listening to the shouts and footfall outside the room. "We'll keep them off your back. Let me know when he's ready."
She frowned. "How will I do zat?"
He pointed to his temple. "We're in a shared Legilimency attack — our minds are connected."
"Non, I do not understand."
He closed his eyes and concentrated. *Push your thought to me.*
"Merde." Apolline hugged herself.
Hermione shivered.
Daphne flinched, her fingers snapping to the hem of her schoolgirl skirt.
"What?" Harry asked, confused.
"Be careful with zat." Apolline shuddered. "Hearing your voice inside us, it's like—"
"It's like a love letter inscribed on my brain." Hermione said dazedly.
"It's more like your lips are speaking directly against my…yeah." Daphne glowed.
Harry shook his head. His girls were oversexed — it was probably his fault. "Go!"
"Good luck!" She wished them, before she disappeared down the stairs.
They poked their head out of the office — the coast was clear. The sunlight streamed through the stained glass at the end of the corridor, casting the suit of armor in golden orange.
"Stay away from the windows," Harry warned. "We'll work our way up the castle, keep our attackers below us and hope the dragon stays outside. Remember, we just need to buy time."
The girls nodded obediently as they strode down the corridor. Behind them, Daphne used Freezing Charms to ice the floor.
"I have shortcuts and traps built in." Hermione added.
"Good, we'll need—" He stopped short at the suit of armor. The visor was up, revealing a bronze statue inside. A statue of Harry, his jaw sharp, his cheekbones high. And below, sticking out below the chest plate, was a bronze cock, huge and veiny. It was…his cock.
Daphne snickered as he looked back at Hermione, who was blushing wildly.
"T-the creator's mind always seeps into the mindscape in unexpected ways…" She explained lamely.
"Is that really how you—" Harry cut off as a shadow grew over the statue, over the corridor.
SMASH!
The Horntail's head crashed through the window, and they were suddenly faced with it, inches from it. Evil, yellow eyes above snorting nostrils, billowing a sulfuric stench. It opened its mouth, revealing sharp fangs lining a mouth of blackened red flesh, like burned skin, and a ball of flame at its back.
The dragon screeched, the sound piercing their ears. It tried to get into the window, black leathery wings beating at the castle, tail smacking against the stone.
Harry's wand came up, but as his magic grew, so did the dragon's flame. The heat seared his skin. "Ah!" He cried, dropping his wand.
He dove and grabbed his wand with his other hand, thinking of a thousand spells. The ball of flame shot from the dragon's throat.
No more time to think — he forewent incantations completely, and with a burst of magic, wrenched the statue in front of them, Transfiguring it larger.
The jet of flame torched the Harry-statue, the corridor enveloped in red. The three crouched in a line behind their statue shield, deafened by the roar. Their brows singed, their skin dry, the flames split to either side of their shield, the heat growing and growing…
Harry reinforced the statue with every shield he knew, sweat dripping from his forehead — it was like staring at the sun.
Until finally, the gout ended. The dragon's roar stopped. In front, bronze Harry melted, its head rolling off and splashing, half-liquid, onto the floor, like a blacksmith's project toppled over.
"Fuck me." He muttered. Now he'd time to gather his wits, he could fight back.
The Killing Curse wouldn't work on something this big, but that didn't mean he couldn't make it retreat.
A Conjunctivitis curse on its beady yellow eyes to irritate them, making them swell almost shut. An Engorgio on its own fangs, so it stabbed itself when it clamped its mouth shut. And finally, Harry used a cleaning spell that Molly Weasley favoured — she used it to pick up spilled milk from the floor, the liquid levitating into the sink.
Only Harry didn't use it for milk, but for the molten bronze lava on the floor, the golden molten metal wrapping around the dragon's snout, soldering onto its scales.
The dragon screeched and snapped its head against the castle stones, tiles collapsing around it, half-blinded and fully enraged.
It wriggled back down the corridor and back out the window, huffing and puffing, swollen eyes promising bloody revenge. But their problems weren't over, because the illusory occupants of Chang's mind had found them.
Down the Grand Staircase, dark faces were lit by glowing wands — from Professor Sprout to Seamus, from Pince to Pomfrey. They shot spells up at them as the staircase swiveled into place.
"Time to go!" Harry declared.
"To the library," ordered Hermione, leading the way down the corridor to the staircase that led down to the first floor.
"Now's really not the time, bookworm." Daphne spat, barreling down the stairwell after them.
Hermione didn't reply, bouncing from wall to wall, heels clipping the floor. The library was empty, with only one entrance.
And one exit.
"Uh, Mione?" Harry frowned.
"Ssh," She murmured, her fingers trailing along the rows of books. "Here." She pulled out a copy of Hogwarts: A History, and the bookcase creaked back to reveal a corridor.
A dingy, musty corridor. The dungeons below, where Snape brew his potions.
"I told you," Hermione said with exasperation. "I redesigned the castle."
Daphne said nothing as they stepped into the dungeons. Even she was impressed, Harry thought.
"Did you design a dragon killing trap, by any chance?" He asked.
Hermione looked at him flatly. "You said you'd deal with the Horntail. My job was Hogwarts."
"Do I have a job with the letter H? Looking hot as fuck?" Daphne crossed her arms, looking around at the imitation of Snape's dungeon. Shelves lined the wall, glass jars filled with slimy shapes floating in colorful potions.
"Hateful snide comments, from experience." Hermione muttered.
Harry waved his wand, sending the stools and tables against the door, a makeshift barricade. "It won't take them long to find us. We'll hold here."
"There's an escape in Snape's office — through his cauldron. But it takes us…outside, to the greenhouse." The bushy-haired girl winced.
"Where the dragon is." Daphne added. "Great escape."
"See, again with the snideness—"
"It's fine." He interrupted. "We'll only use it when we have to. Hopefully, Apolline is almost done with her job."
"The handjob?" Daphne sniggered.
Harry scowled at her. Apolline wouldn't go that far. "The horny."
###
Apolline stared at her prey and took a heavy breath. Men weren't difficult to arouse — even the best of them would follow their dick. Their dicks acted like a lighthouse for the few brain cells they had, boats coming to crash across the rocks she created around the lighthouse.
But a dick only acted as a large enough beacon when it was hard. And even with her best efforts, it would be difficult to arouse Lord Chang in this place.
The Chamber of Secrets was a dusty black void, because Hermione hadn't been here. The girl could replicate the castle she loved so much, but she clearly didn't have that much imagination.
Lord Chang sat, stunned, his hands rope-tied around a single rock pillar. Behind him, the enormous dead basilisk rotted away, sharp ribcage poking through papery snake-skin that was molting onto the ground. The stench was foul.
Still, she could do this.
She was Apolline Delacour. And her Harry was counting on her.
At least she'd come prepared. Outfits and outfits, as many as she could imagine, because even though this was Hermione's architecture, each of their minds brought something along.
She'd chosen a French maid outfit, even if it was gauche and demeaning. Men liked the classics.
A little white apron and black lace. She tugged up her white knee-high stockings, swirling her feather duster. She coiled her silvery-blonde hair around one shoulder, leaving the other bare. Black stiletto heels to emphasise her long legs, but his eyes probably wouldn't leave the tits that tried to break through the crisscrossed lace ties. A little frilly white maid's cap fixed in her hair.
Harry should have taken her in this, she thought, frowning. He would. Cissy owed her some favors — she'd make sure Harry came home to her on her hands and knees, cleaning the carpet, wiggling her bottom that the costume didn't cover, the frilly white vintage underwear that couldn't cover her full-figured derriere.
She shook away the thought, biting her lip. This wasn't the time.
"Rennervate."
Lord Chang woke dazedly, blinking rapidly. He said nothing, taking her in, taking in her surroundings.
"Who are you?" He said, his voice hoarse. "Do you know who I am?"
Apolline cocked one leg, smiling coquettishly. "Of course I do, monsieur. I was hired for you, non?" She made sure her accent was thick — Daphne's accusations weren't entirely untrue.
A woman had to differentiate herself, after all.
Lord Chang gaped at her as she tossed her hair. "Y-you're a—what is this? Are you a kidnapper?" He sneered. "I can give you money, but I can't promise you'll keep it."
The castle shook suddenly. A dragon's screeching roar.
Her smile flickered as the man looked around, scowling. She crouched beside him, her long manicured fingertips directed his gaze back at her. "What do you think, 'andsome? For ze Chinese Lunar New Year, your charmante wife got you a gift." Her thumb rubbed over his lips. "Moi."
Lord Chang blinked rapidly, his expression slack. "Wha-what? B-but, I don't…where am I?"
She slapped his face lightly. "Don't you recognize me?" She stood, running her hands over her figure, over the swells of her breasts and the width of her hips. "I am Apolline Delacour, wife of Jean Delacour. You 'ave met him, non?"
"J-Jean, yes, of course. B-but—"
She ran her tongue over her red lips. "I am a wife of a prominent politician, Lord Chang." She pouted. "You cannot 'ave me in real life, désolée, not for any fortune." She knelt on the ground and crawled toward him slowly, her breasts shaking in her top. She tapped his temple. "But in ze mind, we can do anyzing."
The man's mouth opened and closed. "I-I'm in my head. This is Legilimency?"
"Think." She urged. "How did you get here?"
"I-I…I don't remember."
"I do." She smiled comfortingly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It felt revolting, to touch a man other than her Harry. Other men were so weak, so inconsequential, compared to her love. "You're in ze cigar lounge of your home. Your wife slipped me in to blow your mind, a gift for you."
The castle shook again. Rockdust fell from above, splattering them in choking dust. Apolline spluttered and swore. What was going on up there?
"W-what's—"
"Your mind is trying to defend you." She said dismissively. "Worry not, monsieur." Her hand slid up his leg. "While ze castle shakes, you can make me shake."
Lord Chang took her in slowly, every inch of her. "I-I've never had a Veela." He said slowly.
Apolline smiled at him patronizingly. He never would. Only a man like Harry deserved the privilege of having her, because only he could bring her to untold heights of paradise, her voice hoarse with screams, her body tingling, her toes curling. Just the thought of him made her shiver.
"Let me show you what I can do." She promised.
His lighthouse began to grow with just a hand on his thigh.
It was time to dash him against the unforgiving rocks.
###
"Expelliarmus!" Hermione cried. The scarlet light dashed against the crowd of bodies that swarmed against the Potions dungeon doors, their hands slipping through the doors to try and pull themselves in.
"Really, Granger?" Daphne spat. Her own curse split the hands from the arms.
Harry grimaced. It was like there was an army of Inferi outside the door, only these people weren't mindless. They shouted threats, they co-ordinated with each other, they launched spells.
His shield-runes on the door failed, and soon the door melted into corrosive acid. The green smoke wisped away to reveal Professor Snape. The greasy wizard sneered, but his wand arm got knocked by a charging Ron Weasley — the helpless Potions Master was downed by Harry's explosive Bombarda.
The narrow corridor was their saving grace — the army couldn't approach easily. Harry and the two girls shot spells mercilessly into the mix, without needing to care about collateral damage.
Hermione sprayed them in water and Daphne fried them like fish. It was a madness to the senses — burnt flesh and fresh water, heady fires and tongue-tingling acid in the air.
But in this barrel, there weren't only fish. The foxes were smarter, layering shields on top of each other. And stepping over the pile of fallen bodies, the shimmering shields approached, a phalanx of Protego's.
"Daphne." Harry said simply.
"On it." The blonde Slytherin began hurling potions from Snape's storeroom. The colorful vials split against the shields, shards of a rainbow chandelier, pouring down chaos.
Snape's experiments weren't meant to be used, and definitely not mixed.
The bodies on the floor swelled into purple flesh-bags, bright yellow daisies pushing through their pores. Black bats spilled from their open mouths. The stone walls of the corridor began sprouting black hair, and soon their attackers were surrounded by furry walls, clipped by black bats, their feet sinking into body-soil that gripped their legs and didn't let go.
Harry lit them up in fire, glad that the heavy smoke covered up the disturbing results. Daphne threw vial after vial into the mix, but when she'd run out of potions, Hogwarts hadn't run out of dreamlike attackers.
The bodies were burnt to ash. The bats were killed. Finally, the smoke was whisked away.
And still they came. It was the faces of their friends and teachers, but Harry flinched when he heard the sound of laughter. Tom's unmistakable laugh, rich and proud.
The door-frame itself was widened, and their attackers spilled into the dungeon.
"Stupefy! Confringo!" Hermione said anxiously.
"Granger, this isn't second year." Daphne muttered, inscribing a Severing Charm rune onto the thick ropes from her Incarcerous Spell. The ropes got banished at the line of attackers — it was like a meat factory. Heads rolled.
Harry thought quickly. They needed more firepower.
Much more.
Hermione had the same thought. "There's too many of them." She cried.
"Mione, you made a replica of Hogwarts in our minds. Isn't that amazing? You can do anything." He instructed.
"So? I don't understand." She said, her eyes wide.
He gave her an encouraging smile. "So don't be afraid to…indulge your imagination."
With that, he began summoning wands. All of the wands. Every fallen wand from the corridor zoomed towards him and levitated in the air, shades of beech, ebony and maple.
He murmured intent. The wands spun themselves in the air.
He murmured purpose. A hundred floating wands lit up in red glows.
He murmured a curse.
As the enemies of the mind poured in, the wands rained down death.
The wands recoiled as they pumped Exploding Charms down at the faucet of foes. The fizzling boom of the wands pierced the air, but it couldn't overshadow the screams.
Hermione recoiled, too, as the limbs bounced and flopped. Harry directed his cloud of wands to make a river of blood. By the time there was a gap, a silence, the smoke rising up from the massacre, they faced a jigsaw puzzle of dismemberment.
No man could make the limbs connect.
"Oh, God!" Hermione threw up.
Daphne looked at him with awe and terror.
The wands clattered to the floor. There were still enemies down the corridor but they wouldn't approach eagerly.
Hermione wiped her mouth. "B-but that shouldn't work, it goes against magical theory—"
"This isn't real, Granger." Daphne said quietly, but she was trembling. "You're such a stick in the mud."
Harry reached under her skirt and pinched her bottom. "Better than a stick in the ass, eh?" He smirked. "Come along, girls."
*Apolline?* He said in his mind. *Is he horny enough to descend to the second level yet?*
He got a sense of her scowling. *It'd help if rockdust wasn't crumbling down on my head.*
*Hurry.* Harry urged. *We're running out of time.*
The dungeon had to be abandoned. His storm of Exploding Charms had done the job, but it had also blown the doorframe and corridor wide open. It was a position too big to hold.
Snape's office held the cauldron Hermione had prepared. They simply stuck their head into the wide basin and were enveloped, head over feet.
When they blinked, they were bathed in the sun. The humid greenhouse amplified the heat, but they were already sweating. For a moment, they could pretend that it was another beautiful summer day in Hogwarts.
Until the shadow of the dragon above washed over them. The flap of its mighty wings was loud enough to hear all around.
"Accio Firebolt!" Harry held his wand out. It made him think of the First Task, the TriWizard Tournament. Once, he'd outflown this fucking dragon.
Who's to say he couldn't do it again?
"Harry," Hermione bit her lip. "You know I don't do brooms."
"I'll keep you safe." He said simply.
She glowed. "Okay."
He perched her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Daphne held onto his waist from behind — she seemed a little nervous too.
The security of Chang's mind ran out onto the grass as they kicked off from the ground. The Chinese 'Aurors', mixed with the student body.
"Come back here!" One of the men ordered as they flew above them.
"You don't belong." Lisa Turpin spat.
"Look!" Dean Thomas sneered. "The blonde whore has an emerald plug in her ass."
"Oh, kill me now." Daphne muttered, burying her face into Harry's back. Both Hermione and Daphne's skirts were struggling in the wind created by the dragon's beating wings, flapping up around their waist, their asses on show.
Harry was struggling too — with his broom. The Firebolt wasn't meant for three. It wasn't as fast as he was used to, nor as maneouvrable.
They were free from the army below, but the dragon above had spotted them. It let out an enraged bellow and took chase as Harry navigated them between Hogwart's towering spires.
He heard the heavy intake of breath, the sudden vacuum of air, and without thinking, rolled the broom into a barrel roll.
"Aaah!" Hermione screeched as they were upside down, their worlds lit orange suddenly, as a torrent of flame torched roof-slates, sending the tiles crashing down onto the Quad below.
"Fuck!" Harry growled, feeling his robes burn hot. Daphne patted the flames on his arm out, but the dragon was still close behind.
He smashed through Ravenclaw Tower, using his wand to explode the glass. And for a second they were in a room of blue and bronze, until they were outside again, on the other side of the tower. The dragon screeched, confused by the loss of his prey.
Harry was having other trouble. Hermione was pressed against him completely, strands of her hair flying into his mouth. And she kept squirming against him, perched between his thighs, her delectable bottom rubbing against his crotch.
"Mione, what are you doing?!" He growled.
"I'm sorry!" She wailed. "Every time I shift up, I just—ooh!" Harry tilted the broom up to glide over the sharp needle spire of the North Tower, and Hermione fell back down against him, her ass wriggling against his cock.
"Why aren't you wearing any panties?" He snapped.
"You said you like me accessible!" She said defensively.
"Not now!"
"You're the one that keeps flipping my skirt up and just p-pounding me like an ape! Even in the library!" Hermione cried.
"You're wet!" He accused.
Daphne snickered loudly behind him.
"For fuck's sake." He groaned as he swayed them around the Headmaster's three-turret tower. With every sharp turn, Hermione rocked back against him, sliding her wet cunt over his bulging robes, her thighs squirming. "I can't fly like this! Stop wriggling!" He complained.
The dragon was getting closer and he was running out of towers to navigate around. He could feel the heat of its breath.
"I know how to make her stop." Daphne smirked into his ear. Her hands freed his cock from his robes.
"The fuck are you—" Harry cut himself off as he saw the reflection of the dragon in the gleam of the glass dial of the clocktower. Those fearsome yellow eyes, spiked tail thrashing behind it, fangs bared and colored into a brightening red…
He pulled them into a sharp climb just as a hissing flame-breath scorched underneath them.
"Oh, fuck! It got a bit of my hair!" Daphne complained.
"Oooh, fuuuuck—" Hermione moaned as she was suddenly impaled on his hard dick, her attempts at shifting away made impossible by the steep climb. Her back fell against him and he was abruptly ensconced inside her wet warmth, bottomed out in her vice-tight pussy.
"What the…" Harry blinked, his groin pressed against her naked asscheeks. The wind whipped at his face, his eyes drying. Below, the dragon was chasing them into the clouds, but he was distracted.
Hermione had given into madness, and he could only hold tightly onto her slim waist with one hand and his broom with the other, as she wriggled and bucked in his lap. Her bushy hair flying behind her was blinding him, along with the sun.
Gravity itself fucked her into him, the dragon's rage intermittently interrupted by Mione's cute little squeaks and whimpers.
"This is fucking ridiculous." Harry yelled.
"Y-yes, yes, yes," Hermione rolled her hips like a pro, pulling herself up the broom by both hands, like she was trying to rope-climb herself into an orgasm.
"Hermione, you need to control yourself!" He ordered.
But it was no use — she was pawing at her own breasts, her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Fly me to the moon." She giggled absurdly.
Despite himself, he couldn't control himself either. Hermione was squeezing his cock so tight, her creamy pussy rolling up and down him, her cunt so wet he could hear its squish.
And with every roll and turn of the broom, she rose and fell. Her pillowy asscheeks were thumping against him, her hips circling.
They were so high, the oxygen was getting thin, but his balls felt so tight, swelling to a release.
They vanished into a cloud just as the dragon looked to release another gout of fire, and Hermione whimpered.
Daphne's soft hands slipped to his balls, her creamy legs on either side of his. "Fill her." She teased.
Hermione must have heard her, because she looked back through pleading eyes. Her voice was unnaturally low, seductive. "Please, love."
Harry snapped the broom into an almost flip, leaving Hermione weightless, jolting her back into oblivion, her hands off the broom, held purely back her back against his chest, and the anchor of his enormous cock deep in her.
She rocked against him as he came with a groan, burying his head in her hair, squeezing her waist tight. He shuddered and spilled into her trembling figure, her pussy quivering as they came together.
The cloud kept them safe as they found a long release, Daphne's gentle fingers kneading his load into Hermione.
Finally, he exhaled pure relief.
"Harry…" Hermione sighed, her breathing quick.
"My naughty girl." He said fondly.
"I'm sorry." She said, but she didn't sound sorry, wriggling her ass and melting back into his chest.
"You need a good spanking."
Her bottomless brown eyes looked back at him lovingly. "Promise?"
Daphne snorted. "Such a slut."
"Don't think I've forgotten about you, either." Harry said firmly.
She fell silent.
He took a long breath. He could hear the dragon shrieking with rage as it tried to find them, the wispy white clouds shifting as the Horntail burst through them.
"Let's finish this." He murmured.
Hermione held onto his thighs and tried to ease herself off his cock.
"Don't bother." He tightened his arm around her waist. "Or next time, it could be your ass."
She squeaked.
He felt light-headed, the air was so thin here. There was still the sound of someone laughing. Tom was here, watching, waiting for his chance.
One of the clouds wisped into a different shape. It looked a lot like Lily.
Harry closed his eyes. He wasn't going to wait for his demons to return.
He thought about Dudley, suddenly, about his PlayStation. Dudley would let him watch, sometimes, taunting him with how he'd never play.
Now, in this strange mindscape, Harry was playing his own game.
He'd fucked the girl. Now he had to slay the dragon and get to the next level.
"Harry?" Hermione murmured uncertainly.
Harry didn't respond. He tilted the broom down into a sharp dive.
Out of the clouds. Below, Hogwarts sat in miniature form, a castle among the lakes and hills of Scotland, the stone centerpiece. The water reflected the clouds above and the dragon that roamed them.
Harry kept his eyes on the water. The lake would be his mirror salvation.
Hermione screamed for mercy as they dove down, and he didn't need the lake to show him the dragon that followed. The Horntail's snorts propelled flaming sparks, breathing fetid heat on their backs, only cooled by the brittle whistling wind through their ears, rattling their cheeks.
Hogwarts grew closer. So did the dragon, its snout nudging at the bristle-end of a broom that wouldn't — couldn't — go any faster. Harry pulled every trick he knew.
"Avis!" He shot bird flocks down, tracking each bird to see where the fastest air current was. Then, he dove in spirals, trying to stay unpredictable.
His hands were sweaty, the heat of the scalding fire blasts unbearable, but he couldn't let go of his broom to wipe them. Spirals into rolls into dives into zig-zags, but still the mirror lake showed the unrelenting dragon, its fiery maw almost ready to clamp down around them.
Daphne was throwing curses behind her, but the dragon was nimble, head swaying like a snake before its charmer, avoiding all attempts to hit its eyes.
"Fucking—" Daphne growled, stabbing out her leg. Her stiletto heel clipped the Horntail's yellow eye, making it screech. "Faster!" She urged.
"Trying." He grimaced, pushing Hermione down to try and flatten their profile.
"Guh—" Hermione said senselessly — he'd forgotten he was still inside her.
Hogwarts rushed closer, and a plan formed. They were going so fast that a single blink brought the castle much closer.
"Shift left when I say." Harry ordered.
But the blue skies were disappearing on either side, the dragon's mouth enveloping them, a black void almost ready to clamp down. To his right, a fang, and below, a slithering tongue.
There.
The Astronomy Tower. Where they'd began their mission, Hogwart's tallest tower, the thinnest turret.
They were almost there, so close he could make out the blue tiles. The open arches with the telescopes within. The Horntail sensed victory, sensed every drop of his sweat, his fear. Its mouth opened high as he slowed…
"Now!"
They jerked left hard, their feet skidding across the tiles. The dragon's mouth snapped shut — but not in time. It smashed into the Astronomy Tower, the sharp spire piercing its open mouth.
It was flying so fast it couldn't stop — it got a a throat full of Hogwarts and couldn't stop there. His heart pounding, Harry looked back to see the spire piercing through the dragon's full fifty foot form.
The Astronomy Tower punched through the Horntail's body and out of its ass. The dragon screeched, wings beating against the tower, spiked tail whipping wildly.
The dragon let out an infernal roar, eyes bloodshot, but despite all its strength, it was stuck, skewered. The tower had pierced its internal organs. It wasn't a pleasant death.
"Merlin's magic staff, did you see that?" Daphne swore. "It got spit-roasted by the big spire!"
Hermione moaned as she pushed herself off Harry's cock, now he'd leveled the broom. "One sympathises." She muttered.
Harry gasped out a laugh, wiping his brow. That had been too close.
Daphne pressed her cheek against his. "Harry, did you just pull off a Wronski Feint on a fucking dragon?"
He could only exhale, holding his hand to his heart. It felt like it was going to explode.
He patted Hermione's bottom. "Let me see that prick Krum do that." He said with satisfaction, watching Hermione's creamy cunt trickle out his thick jizz.
His brainy girl shook her head as she settled back against him, her hand over his around her waist. "You're such a caveman, Harry." But her voice was full of fondness.
"I filled your cave, something, something." He said tiredly. "There's a good line somewhere. Cormac would have one."
"McLaggen couldn't find his brain with an Accio." Hermione laid her head back on his collarbone. "Tell me Apolline is done? I need to get off this broom."
Harry had quite forgotten about the Veela woman. "Let's go find out."
He flew them slowly into the second-floor window, his feet trailing over the Hogwarts stone. In Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, they climbed off the broom.
"I feel like the dragon." Hermione said, wincing as she held her groin.
Harry tried not to smirk proudly as he opened the tunnel down into the Chamber of Secrets. At the bottom, Apolline tapped her foot impatiently, gorgeous as a French maid.
His appreciation of his Veela turned to dismay at the sight of Lord Chang. The man was passed out, naked and drooling.
"What happened?" He exclaimed. "We need him horny to get into the ego layer."
Apolline crossed her arms. "Oh, he is." She pointed at the man's erect cock. At the base, a black ring was wrapped around his average cock, glowing blue.
Harry stared. "Is that a—"
"A chastity ring, with Shock Spell runes. It electrocuted him unconscious once he got close," Apolline wrinkled her nose.
Bludgers bounced around his head. "But…but he wasn't wearing a cockring. Or at least, I never saw it."
Daphne hummed thoughtfully. "Did you actually see his penis?"
"Yeah," Harry hesitated. "Actually, no — he was either being covered by his girl's cheongsam thingy or inside her."
The blonde girl grimaced. "What sort of wizard lets his witch control him?" She looked almost nauseous.
"It's an unusual fetish for a wizard, but not sans précédent." Apolline said. Her gaze found Hermione's thighs. "You found time for a break, I see."
"Don't ask." Hermione said, red-faced.
"Granger finally got the courage to get on Harry's broomstick." Daphne sniggered.
Hermione tried to change the subject. "Could the ring be a Legilimency defence mechanism?"
From the tunnel above, they could hear voices. Moaning Myrtle had seen them descend, Harry imagined.
"We don't have time to waste." He said. "Wands up."
As one, they pointed their wands at Lord Chang. "Legilimens!"
Hogwarts sank down into miniature, like they were flying above it again. Harry felt a pull at his navel and another in his stomach. The colors swam and dissipated, like shampoo into a drain, but when they emerged, they were no longer in the castle.
Instead, it was Gringotts. They blinked and they were in a private office. A private office on the highest floor of the white marble bank. The floor reserved for Purebloods and nobles.
While the riffraff used the long marble counters below, stretching along the giant hall and staffed by a hundred bored goblins, the nobles met with their allocated account managers in the segmented offices above.
Even with the offices and their tinted glass separators, it was still a hall of marble, burnished by gold goblin gargoyle-like statues on the walls, and like below, it was cast in a warm glow by a candle-lit chandelier larger than some Hogwarts' classrooms.
Long rectangular windows ran from the floor to the high ceiling, but it was night outside.
Harry peered closer through the dark windows, through the steadily falling snow.
"Lights." He murmured. The window glowed with neon lights, a rising and falling skyline of pinks and blues, a nightlife that didn't exist in Diagon Alley.
Harry knew this skyline. Or rather, Tom did.
"Hermione," He hissed. "Merlin's beard, why is Hong Kong outside Gringotts?"
Her shoulders fell. "I-I don't understand. I made the design perfectly, I'm sure of it!"
He grimaced, staring out at the city beyond. "Then his Occlumency is even better than we thought. Even though we've gone deeper, his training is holding up."
"So we're going to get attacked again?" Daphne guessed. "Great job, Granger."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as the girls began arguing again. The only way is through. "We'll make it work." He interrupted. "We have to get down below to the vaults."
"We 'ave to rob Gringotts?" Apolline said.
"The ego is the only part of the conscious personality." Harry explained. "It's what Chang's aware of when he thinks about himself, what he projects outward."
"So in his deepest, darkest vault…" Daphne began.
"We'll find what he wants to hide the most." Harry finished. "His secrets — why he really wants to stop his sex-trade work with the Patels."
Daphne fingered her wand. "I guess we're going underground." She paused. "Why the fuck is it snowing?"
Hermione let out a squeak and dropped her wand. It clattered loudly onto the marble floors.
"Mione?" Harry asked. But he knew the answer — it had snowed when he'd practiced mind-sharing with Hermione.
"It's snowing because of me, okay!" She said, staring at the floor. "I'm horny, alright? There, I said it!"
Apolline stared out the windows. "So the snow is…" She giggled. "Ta crème."
Daphne leered. "Little miss prim and proper loved getting raw-dogged on the broomstick in front of the whole of Hogwarts—"
"I did not!" Hermione cried. "It was a physiological response." Her cheeks were red with anger, her fists clenched.
Harry rubbed his forehead. "Enough, Daphne. We need to get deep underground and quietly this time. We have a clean slate now we're on the next layer — we can do this clean if he keeps believing this is the real Gringotts. I don't want to fight another dragon."
Apolline pursed her lips. "'Arry, mon chéri, he's going to know he's dreaming if he looks out the window and sees Hong Kong."
Harry paused. That was true. The bright lights of the city's nightlife shone through, even with the moderate snow.
If the snow was heavier, it would hide it…A blizzard.
"Maybe if Granger was less weak-minded—"
"Daphne, bend over." He ordered.
"What? It's true, isn't it—"
"Bend over!" He snapped, his magic pulsing.
Daphne flinched and bent over, her hands on the tinted glass. From outside, nobody could see through the charmed glass, but it didn't feel like that. It felt like the ugly wrinkled besuited goblin in the next office was staring right at her, as Harry pulled her short green-and-silver plaid skirt up over her ass.
Daphne shuddered, but said nothing as Harry pulled her black panties down. She closed her eyes as she heard the snickers of Apolline and Granger, Harry's theatrical pause at the sight of her own wet slick pussy.
Her traitorous cunt wettened more when Harry's large hands parted her meaty asscheeks roughly. Her plug, the gift she loved and hated equally, wobbled as her asshole distended.
"It is an impressive derriere for a slender girl." Apolline admitted.
Daphne squealed as Harry slid the plug out of her behind. It felt wrong, empty, to be without her permanent reminder that she was owned, taken.
"Hermione, bend over." Harry said. His tone brook no argument.
"B-but—" Daphne began, rage coiling in her core. She couldn't get the words out — she couldn't beg to have her ass plugged, not when the other girls laughed at her anal weakness, not even though her gift was going to be given to the mudblood.
Hermione trembled as she leaned over the mahogany desk and hoisted her skirt up hesitantly.
Harry's fingers swiped up through the girl's filthy pussy, through the mix of grool and his dense cum.
"Harry…" Hermione said nervously.
"Ssh, beautiful." He said gently. "It's a gift."
She looked back at him, her hair falling over her eyes. "All that I am is yours, and anything you give me, I'll take." She said softly.
Harry ran his lubricated fingers over her little puckered rosebud, teasing her tight star.
A single finger.
"Harryyy," She moaned, her voice low and sultry.
They didn't have time to waste, but he couldn't rush this. Not when she looked so sexy, flat against the desk, her tight perky bum raised up for him, looking back at him with pouty lips, through lidded eyes.
Not when she squirmed under his touch, her body like a live wire, so much that he had to push her firmly down on the desk with one hand, while he worked her vice-tight virgin asshole open with two fingers now.
As he fingered her, the snow fell more heavily, just as he'd planned. This was Chang's mind, but it was her architecture and the hotter she got, the more it was represented by the white creamy snow falling in blankets outside the window.
He just had to make sure she stayed hot. Daphne's silver butt plug was egg-shaped, and tipped with an emerald gem. Harry removed his fingers and replaced it with the tip of the plug.
"Ooh!" Hermione shivered at the feeling. "I thought it'd be cold."
"It would be, if it wasn't borrowed." He said amusedly, feeling Daphne seething as she watched.
Before her tunnel could pucker close, Harry slid the plug in, enjoying his Mione's whimpers. The sight of her whole glistening mound, wet and prominent, covered in grool and still seeping with his load.
He slowly twisted the plug in until there wasn't a single glimpse of the silver plug. All that was left was the emerald.
Hermione wriggled her bottom.
"How does it feel, love?"
"Different." She bit her lip. "Definitely different."
Harry gently caressed her pale bottom. "As long as we keep you horny, Chang won't be able to see anything odd about the city outside." He nodded to the window, which was covered in a thick white blizzard.
"This is bullshit." Daphne muttered, kicking the table leg.
"This is so wrong, Harry." Hermione gasped as he spanked her, watching her toned flesh jiggle and then return to perfect teenage tautness.
"Zis is so hot." Apolline commented. "If eet was my mind, it'd look like the Alps."
Harry took in the sight of his girls, the goblins outside and the whirling frigid blizzard beyond the walls. Below, Lord Chang and his vault of secrets — the answer to why he was giving up on his lucrative Patel side-hustle, and the access to the third and final layer of his mind.
More than that, his vault of secrets could give him insight into getting into China, into getting Cho without marrying her, to furthering his House at the expense of Chang's.
But right here, in this room, it was just a squirming plugged Hermione, a seething Daphne, and a voyeuristic Apolline.
Harry shook his head. "You were right all along, Daphne."
"About what?" She said sullenly, glaring at the carpet.
"This mission really is Hong Kong hijinks."