The girls knew the time of Fleur's downfall had come. Marie had told him that she was ready to give in completely. Harry found himself unexpectedly nervous, like a groom on his wedding night.
Each of his beloved's offered their own advice.
"She's such a brat." Marie rolled her eyes, wiping some of her lipstick away from his balls. "But she has suffered. Make her beg a little, then give it to her good." She shivered. The dusty Beauxbatons classroom was cold. "I remember my first time, with her sitting on my face." The girl sighed. "She always wants what's mine."
Apolline had patted his face gently as she poured him a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice. With Jean at work and her daughters at school, they'd found time to inaugurate the kitchen island. "You don't need to think about her at all, mon cheri. Use her. Show her what a real man is like. How to behave in front of her new Master."
In the shower, Narcissa had tutted as she washed him clean of his French adventures, tugging his cock gently as she sponged him down. "The silly French whore made you wait, made you suffer." She sniffed. "Arrogant little girl. I can't believe she ruined your orgasm. The gall!" She cut off her oncoming rant. "Make her beg for every drop of your seed, wipe yourself on her hair and then come back to me, my love." She kissed his throat. "I'll show you how a woman loves her man."
Hannah's advice was difficult to hear, delivered between licks of his cockhead as he fucked her tits, the slick slaps of his balls on her oiled up breasts emanating through the broom cupboard. "Frenchie's chest isn't — oh, yeah, mmm — big enough for a titfuck — do you want to cover my face again, Harry?" She fluttered her eyelashes, holding her mammoth tits together.
That wasn't true — Fleur had an admirable bosom, but Harry wasn't going to argue. His beautiful busty Hufflepuff was his least troublesome girl — she never complained that their encounters were more broom cupboards than beds, or that Harry frequently pushed her to her knees, fucked her pillowy and soft tits, came on her face, then vanished with just a pat on her head.
None of his English girls seemed that enthused about Fleur's induction, but the Veela hadn't made a good impression in the last year.
Even Hermione, who was almost always good-natured, wasn't pleased. Her lips thinned when Harry mentioned her as he kissed the sweat off her just-fucked body, lying in their bed. "I do wish you'd choose kind partners, Harry. She's so…snotty. She kept going on about how plain British girls were last year and I swear she was looking right at me."
Harry plucked one of her hairs from between his teeth — one of the untold disadvantages of having a harem. He'd not known many things about the fairer sex as a boy, but certainly not the universal truth — women shed their hair like dogs.
Even Tom's repertoire of magic hadn't been enough to unclog the knotted balls of hair from Cissy's shower drain.
"She does have good parts." He offered lamely.
"All external, I'm sure." She jabbed, before sighing. "Perhaps she just needs some love." She stroked the nape of his neck. "Some discipline, like Daphne."
Harry stayed still, guiltily — he did so like disciplining Daphne. He'd taken to using the Marauder's Map to ambush her, push her into a classroom and spank her ass red, leaving her dribbling Daphne-dew into the panties around her thighs. The last time, she hadn't even done anything, but Harry imagined she deserved it.
Hermione slapped his shoulder, reading his mind as ever. "Not all problems can be solved with your penis, Harry." She said primly.
Daphne, for her part, had wrapped her lithe legs around him to stop him pulling out. "Other girls aren't worthy of you." She'd said softly. "And the Veela? Primitive creatures that aren't worth your time." Harry sighed. If the girl wasn't Princess-level beautiful, she'd be able to make a decent living as an Umbridge impersonator.
Helena was less easy to visit, isolated as she was in Durmstrang, but she'd penned him a letter coated in a bergamot perfume. Her advice was simple.
My first time with you was unforgettable. The purest joy, primal and heartfelt. I think of it daily. How you plundered my heart and soul, and then gave it right back, along with a mother lost to me.
My advice? Be yourself — you need be nothing more and I love you for being nothing less.
Harry found himself impatient — he didn't know when she'd come, or how. But his mind was in overdrive, along with his libido. Once he was finished with his international sexcapades with all the girls, he distracted himself by taking care of Susan.
Madam Pomfrey had fixed up her face, but Susie's balance was off, dizzy after a few steps. He carried her books and bags, walked her to class and to the Great Hall for every meal.
When the gossip press began to print rumors at the sight of them together, he took her to the kitchens instead.
"You don't need to hover." She complained as he lowered her gently into a chair by the table the House Elves had set up. "You're treating me like Professor McGonagall or something."
Harry smirked. Despite what she'd said, her hand tightened around his elbow. He bumped her hip. "That's not true — I'm much more flirty with ol' Minnie."
"Harry!" She giggled. "She'd probably do more than flirt with you — she's been floating on cloud nine since you won the match."
He flexed his bicep. "Every girl loves a Quidditch player."
"Oh, stop." Susie grimaced. "I'm already sick of being glared at by every girl who sees you carrying my books. I'm like public enemy number one — I heard Romilda Vane telling everyone I was faking my injuries, you believe that?"
"Uh oh." Harry smirked. "Fangirls are dangerous. You think it was her?"
Susan looked around the enormous kitchen carefully, her voice dropping. "I think maybe Daphne did it?"
His heart skipped a beat. "Oh?" He said, his voice unnaturally high.
"She's been glaring at me for days." She confided. "And there was a Trip Jinx rune in my shower stall the other day."
Harry hummed. Daphne was a snake, possessive of him and capable of anything. But she'd sworn to him that it wasn't her and he'd used a new lie detector test — cock buried in her cunt, a thumb into her asshole, to see if she puckered.
The blonde Slytherin was a minx, but she did love him.
"It doesn't sound like her style." He said casually.
Susan looked at him skeptically. "How would you know?"
"I mean, I don't know her like that." He said quickly. "But, like, from what I've heard, I mean. She's more whispers in the ear, venom from the mouth, that sorta thing."
"Hmm." She licked her fingers clean of powdered sugar — Dobby had insisted on making them French toast. "I guess."
"Ready to go? First class is soon." Harry said. The large amounts of gleaming pots and pans that hung from every wall showed their blurry reflections — and his guilty face.
"Sure."
When they exited out of the painting of the bowl of fruit, they almost walked straight into Hannah.
The girl squeaked. "Harry! Susan! I w-was looking for you, uh, Harry." She shifted from foot to foot, holding a copy of the Prophet.
"What is it, Han?"
She darted a nervous look at Susan. "I, have you seen the paper? I mean, of course you haven't. It's nothing, really."
Harry frowned. "What is it, another raid? Come on, give it here."
"It's nothing." Hannah said loudly. "I wouldn't even—"
He took it from her and unfolded the paper.
There, staring back at him, was Daphne. In her blush-pink backless dress at the Chang party. She blushed, looked down demurely, swept her hair behind her ear.
The headline read 'SKEETER SCOOP: POTTER'S PUREBLOOD PROPOSAL! HARRY PLUCKS THIS ENGLISH ROSE FROM THE GREENGRASS!'
His heart sank. The news had leaked, but how? Her parents had been sworn to silence. Astoria had been giving a firm talking to after Daphne had learned about how she'd incited Tracey. And Tracey was still locked away somewhere in the Greengrass's re-education centre.
Which left only…Daphne.
Hermione's voice echoed in his mind. Not all problems can be solved with your penis, Harry.
He'd thought his blonde snake under control, anally pounded into obedience.
Tom's tongue hissed in amusement. "Your bond doesn't grant loyalty, boy. What use is love? Only fear can give you power."
Harry clenched his fist as the stunned silence of the moment grew longer.
She 's been glaring at me for days.
Other girls aren 't worthy of you.
He saw Daphne's journey in his mind, imagined her turmoil.
Her love twisted to jealousy as she watched him take care of Susan. He used his new betrothed roughly in stolen moments, reddening her ass, disciplining her. And when she saw him give Susan the kindness that he denied her…
She pens a letter to Rita Skeeter, setting in motion a train that cannot be stopped.
"Is it true?" Susan said quietly, her voice monotone.
Harry hesitated. Could he lie when Daphne's finger would soon be weighed down with a heavy ring? When Hannah squirmed uncomfortably before them?
"I see." She said.
"Susie—"
"You don't know her like that, huh." She spat his words back at him.
"It's not like that, let me explain—"
Her eyes narrowed in fury. "No need. You two are perfect for each other." She laughed harshly. "You both love playing games. What was the plan—"
"There was no plan—"
"She cripples me and you cosy up to me in the Hospital Wing, is that it?"
Harry choked, sweat forming on his brow. This was all going wrong. Susan was his must-have, the light-sided treasure that would balance out the suspicions that would come his way after wedding Daphne.
Tom chortled gleefully. "How can you command an army when you can't manage a handful of whores?"
Mei smirked. "Fetch me the world's smallest violin — the fox's disguise hasn't worked."
Susan scoffed as he choked on his words. "What was the play? You wanted to see if you could fuck the grieving girl without marrying me?" She snarled. "What, did you promise Daphne you'd ruin me as her wedding gift?"
"You're getting this all wrong, I swear." Harry pleaded, his hands pressed together. "Just listen to me, please, Susie—"
"Don't call me that." The girl snapped. She drew her wand as he advanced. "Leave me the fuck alone, both of you. I can't trust either of you — I thought you were my fucking friends."
"We are—" Hannah tried.
"Susan—"
"Fuck you both." She slashed her wand down, a wordless blue curse cutting towards him.
And dissipating into a shield that Hannah cast with unexpected speed.
Susan laughed, but the laugh caught in her throat, tears trailing down her cheeks. "I see where your loyalties lie." She said to Hannah, whose mouth flapped wordlessly.
Susan cast a spell of blinding light — when Harry blinked it away, she was gone. They could hear her crying as she ran down the corridor, but it was no use.
"We can go after her." Hannah clawed at his arm.
"It's no use." He shook his head. "She won't listen, not now."
"Not ever." Tom murmured — it felt like Riddle was really there, his tongue slithering in his ear.
Harry thudded his head against the wall and slowly slid to the floor.
His anger made his fingers flex, his magic yearning to release his rage. Daphne had fucked him royally. She was a problem he didn't know how to solve.
But it was the guilt that weighed down his heart, sending it to the pit of his stomach.
Susan was kind and gentle, a girl with a pure heart. All he did was hurt her, in his desperation to make her love him.
He closed his eyes and saw her tearful face. It felt more than ever like Tom and Mei were right about him.
The predator with a guilty conscience. He wanted to be more.
He wanted Susan to balance him, to make him kinder, to make him do good. But if he couldn't convince her that he was even capable of good, then he didn't deserve her.
Harry smiled bitterly. Maybe that was the solution — to bond only those with darker hearts so he didn't feel like he was tainting them.
The Daphne's.
The Tracey's.
Fleur.
###
Fleur stared at the newspaper without comprehending.
Again.
Again Harry had chosen another, over her.
He'd taken Marie over her. He'd announced the Malfoy mother as his Mistress just after fingering Fleur for the whole opera, after letting her blow him in the fucking toilets.
And now this? After ignoring her letters, ghosting her, pretending she didn't exist?
He'd chosen another girl. Another blonde — a beautiful girl with golden hair. Not as a hole, not as a Mistress, but as a wife!
"Agh!" Fleur ground her teeth. Blood spilled over her hands, her manicured nails digging into her skin. The nerve of him.
She clenched her fists tighter, digging her nails deeper. The sight of the blood felt right. She needed more of it to spill, because it was boiling in her veins. If she didn't let it out, she'd explode.
It should have been her. She was Fleur Delacour. The beauty of beauties. The princess without a need for royal blood, or even a kingdom. The girl who asked, and was given, because she deserved it.
It wouldn't do.
"No more." She murmured. "C'est fini."
She looked up at Marie, who was fidgeting nervously. "Tell me how to get to 'Arry."
"I don't know, he comes as he likes, you know that—"
"Non!" Fleur growled. "No more games. I know you have a way to get to him." Her wand snapped into her hand and glowed red. "Tell me!"
Marie held her hands up. "D'accord, d'accord. If you Floo to Malfoy Manor, then…there is a way. A Floo to the Chamber of Secrets. But Fleur, this is a mistake, you don't know where he is or who—"
"Je m'en fous!" She snapped. "I will see him today, or not at all."
"But, but, what are you going to do?" Her friend fretted.
"I shall kill him." She announced, stripping herself naked. "And zen I will fuck him."
"I don't—"
"Shut up, Marie!" She growled.
Marie hovered anxiously. "S-should I pick some underwear out? Lingerie?"
Fleur's lip curled. "I won't need it, non?" She caught sight of something white sticking out of her laundry bag. Her full length bodysuit — it showed no skin but her sleeves, but it clung like a second skin. She used it as athletic shapewear, jogging around the school grounds for all the boys to see.
It was very slightly sheer, enough to suggest but not enough to show. That it showed no skin was enough for the teachers to allow it, and if she wanted it to be more sheer, she 'accidentally' jogged under the spray of the fountains.
"Parfaite." She murmured. Marie had to help her slip into the sleeve — it was too small, clinging to her every curve, outlining every millimeter of her labia, but that was okay.
It wouldn't stay on for long.
High heels finished the look — with any luck, they'd soon be pointing at the ceiling.
Cowed, Marie helped her sneak to the Floo point in the school. A cough of the foul powder and she was in a luxurious living room.
Narcissa Malfoy simply raised an eyebrow at her, lounging in a loose robe, one leg over another. She was an intimidating beauty.
So am I, Fleur thought.
The older woman said nothing at all as Fleur called out her destination.
The Chamber of Secrets was cold and lonely. By the time the Veela girl had figured out how to exit, her nipples were as hard as diamonds, poking through her bodysuit.
"Stupid cold castle." She said irritatedly. Harry would pay for every bit of trouble she had.
Her heels clipped loudly on the stone as she stalked through the castle.
"Where is he?" She groused, turning corner after corner. All Hogwarts corridors looked the same.
At the next corner, she walked into a familiar set of faces.
"Fleur!" One of them exclaimed. Shay-moose, or something. Along with his friends, the drooling ginger boy Wheezy, the one with the bouncy afro and the gormless pudgy one, Neville.
As always, she waited impatiently while the boys picked their jaws up.
Boys were so predictable. Their eyes drinking in her curves, the straightening of their backs, the shift to turn their profiles to their side to hide their growing little cocks. Red faces, clearing throats.
Pathetic.
Harry was the only man in this castle.
"Where is 'Arry?" She crossed her arms. The pudgy one whimpered.
"I think I - I think I saw him heading to the seventh floor." The ginger boy said, unable to look up from her breasts.
"P-probably the Requirement Room. I mean the Room of Requirement." Shaymoose added.
Fleur scowled. "What is zat?"
Neville made a strange inhaling sound. "Opposite the tapestry of Barny the Bulging." He wheezed.
"Barnabus the Barmy." Shaymoose corrected.
"Y-yes, that's what I said." Neville's face went red.
The Wheezy boy licked his lips, staring at her groin. "Just walk past the wall three times and think about what you want. It's hard." His eyes went wide. "I mean, it's not hard."
"The room is magic." Neville said, speaking so quickly his words blended together.
"Merci." Fleur rolled her eyes as she pushed past them. She'd have to make sure Harry got better friends.
Thankfully, she made it to the seventh floor without any more meetings.
"Zis is foolish." She murmured, walking back and forth at the blank wall. But Beauxbatons had its secret rooms, so why wouldn't Hogwarts have them too?
That fool Roger had kept trying to tell her about a secret bathroom, at the Yule Ball.
I want Harry. She thought, in her mind. Just when she was about to give up, the blank wall retreated and the door appeared.
The cold brass doorknob made her hesitate. Was she doing the right thing? Was she making a fool of herself?
"Non." She murmured. No more sleepless nights. This ended right now.
As she slowly pushed the door open, she heard voices and, to her horror, the rhythmic sound of clapping flesh.
Her insides chilled. Moans, cooing Someone's asscheeks were clapping together loudly.
A four poster bed had its curtains drawn, but there was a shadowy silhouette lit by the lamp inside. A woman on all fours getting drilled, arched form trembling with every thrust.
Harry's voice. "You're just a dirty little French whore, aren't you?" He sneered.
"Oui, Master!"
"You're so fucking tight."
"Oui, Master, eet is my first time! I cannot take your big cock. I don't know why I called you a leetle boy!"
Fleur's eyes widened. This pornographic dialogue was ridiculous…and Harry was fucking a facsimile of her! How dare he?
Was this the power of the Room of Requirement?
Harry had ignored her for a…talking magic sexdoll?
"I'm going to cum!"
"Fill me up, 'Arry!"
Her nostrils flared in anger. She marched over to the curtains and yanked them open.
Two heads turned to face her.
Harry's face, mid-orgasm, eyes half-closed, mouth open. And…her naked mother, saliva dribbling from swollen red lips, eyes bulging in surprise. Mama came with a cry as she was seeded, her hand between her legs to work her clit as she squirmed and collapsed into the sheets.
Harry fell with her, filling her still, hands palming her thick ass.
"Mama!" She cried.
Her mother looked at her with blank eyes as she quivered senselessly, her toes curled.
"Fuck," Harry groaned as he finished, breathless. He gave Fleur a tired smile. "You're here, finally."
Fleur had eyes only for her mother. The edges of her vision had blurred. She felt dizzy. "Mama, h-how could…Papa?" She blurted.
Harry winced as he slowly pulled out of her mother's cunt, which made an obscene gurgling noise, thick rivulets of cum draining out as he unplugged himself. "She might need a minute." He smirked, smacking Mama's ass affectionately.
The spanking sound resonated in the room. Fleur stared at the handprint, stunned.
She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them.
The scene hadn't changed.
"Oh, mon dieu." Mama muttered, wincing as she squeezed her legs together, gently caressing her abused, distended cunt.
"Mama!" Fleur cried.
"Do not cause a scene, ma bichette." Mama chastised. "You could not see what a man 'Arry was, but I could."
"B-but—"
Her mother moaned sensuously as she turned onto her back, cradling her pussy, the thick white cream seeping through her fingers. Her long hair fell back onto the pillow, flawless skin gleaming with sweat, her full breasts heaving. Fleur had forgotten her mother was still a woman in every sense.
"A woman doesn't stop being a woman when she becomes a mother, ma bichette." Apolline said gently. "And I could not resist Harry. He is, as you know, a man in every way."
Fleur wiped wet eyes. She felt everything and understood nothing. Harry just kept smirking, infuriatingly smug.
Why was she here? Everything she thought she'd achieved was dashed.
Harry. Mama.
It was impossible. But it was here.
"Zis is you." Fleur accused him. "Y-you want to torment me, is zat why?"
"A little." He admitted carelessly. He pumped his cock with one hand, a cock shining in his cum. Harry raised a brow. "Your mother and your best friend, your dreams and your days."
Fleur gaped at him, her mind whirling. He was just…admitting everything. Without shame or pretense. "But…why?!"
"A leetle revenge, maybe." Harry joked. "A pricked male ego is a dangerous thing." He flicked his gaze down to his monstrous dick. "And mine is bigger than most."
Fleur took some deep shaky breaths, folding her arms to protect herself from…something. She was in bizarro-land but she couldn't wake up. Harry pumped his filthy cock casually. Mama soothed her swollen pussy, cradling a belly inflated with cum.
She exhaled slowly. "You theenk I want you, after zis? Zis game of minds? Fucking my Mama?" She said in disbelief.
Harry jerked himself — the slick wet sound of his stroking filled the room. "I do." He gestured with his head. "The door's over there, you can leave if you want to. Apolline." He said tersely.
Mama snapped to attention — face down, ass up, under Harry's cock. Fleur watched with amazement as her mother's tongue lapped at the cum-covered bed sheets, her tongue flicking like a snake's, slurping up the trails of cum.
How was this her Mama?
Her eyes closed in pure bliss, a noisy kitten drinking up her milk.
It was disgusting. But it was getting to her — the familiar scent of Harry's seed, how she knew it would taste — so rich, so sinful, the pure heat of it.
"Or you can stay and help." Harry finished, pointing to the pools in the sheets, the seed dripping from Mama's pussy.
Her brain was throbbing, rattling left to right in her skull.
Not now. Not now.
Her sight clouded. Everything became blurry, except for Harry's infuriating smirk. Throat dry, skin tingling.
Her skin stretched, cheeks sharpening. Shoulders burning. Blood pumped to her fingers, fingers became talons.
Rage.
Fleur opened her beak and screamed.
###
Harry was uncomfortably attracted to bird-Fleur, he thought. Even with the elongated face, the sharp break and the freaky scaly wings, Fleur did still have a body to die for, her every curve outlined in her ridiculous white getup.
I still would, after a few Butterbeers.
"Men." Mei Chang scoffed.
Fleur's feral scream made his ears bleed.
Maybe with another Firewhiskey or five.
"Uh-oh," Harry yelped as the Veela charged him. He grabbed Apolline's silvery mane and tugged her out of the way of a ball of fire — the silly woman was still trying to lick his cum up.
The sheer heat dried his skin. Transformed Veelas were dangerous…but not as deadly as a wand.
Or so he thought.
His Stunning Spell did nothing. A Banisher got blocked by her wings wrapping around herself and her bone-talons knocked away his Dangling Jinx.
She was upon him, her breath so hot that it felt she was breathing fireballs. Talons across his cheek, slicing down red.
"Incarcerous!" He tried, struggling to think of spells that weren't lethal. The ropes held for a second until they were sliced through.
"Graww!" Fleur let out an inhuman roar — Harry was beginning to rethink how sexy she was.
"Are you really going to lose to an overgrown bird?" Tom said, bored.
Harry growled. He fell back onto the sheets to stop her talons clawing his stomach open.
Time to get serious. He didn't need his wand. This was the Room of Requirement — he owned this space.
He needed no incantation, just a thought. A blink and the room became an ocean, a sea of endless blue. All three of them were bobbing in the freezing waters.
Blink.
They were back in the bedroom, soaked to the bone. Only now Harry was behind his Veela attacker, arm around her neck to suffocate her rage, and the other groping her breast roughly.
Apolline had been clear — make her angry, then make her hot.
He was feeling pretty hot himself — his hard cock pressed into her taut teenage cheeks, impossibly perky, built like they were resting on an invisible shelf.
"Rarrgh!" She shrieked.
"Oof—" Her elbow smacked his stomach, and he grabbed her wrist to stop her from gouging his eyes out — only her talons instead sliced into herself — down her bodysuit. Her creamy tits spilled out.
"I, uh, didn't mean that!"
Fleur bent at the waist, his cock hotdogging her warm thick buttocks. For a moment, he thought her subdued, defeated, until she threw her head back hard.
He heard his nose break before he felt it, a snap that became a pour of claret red.
"Fuck!"
"Get her, Master!" Apolline clapped from the side, reclining as she caressed her cum-bulging belly.
Harry held his broken nose — Fleur had escaped her hold. The dowsing in cold waters had snapped her from her rage, from her bird from — she was back to her beautiful self, though she looked no less angry.
The problem with beautiful women, he thought, was that they looked even sexier when they were angry.
Ample tits heaving with her heavy breaths. Pink nipples hard. Her soaking wet bodysuit still sticking to her lower waist.
Keep her angry.
"Hey," He said conversationally. "Your birdbeak's gone, but you've still got a thick cameltoe."
She snarled, whipping her wet hair back. "You really theenk you are Merlin's gift to women! You are nuzzing but a beast!"
"Your mother certainly seems to think so."
Fleur growled and launched toward him.
Harry just blinked. The bedroom changed to a cell in Azkaban. Acrid rain-water and rotting flesh. Something dripped onto the floor. Someone was crying in the distance.
Apolline squeaked, her luxurious four-poster bed replaced by a hard prison mattress.
Harry stepped under Fleur's jab and heaved, throwing her over his shoulder.
"You want to fight like a Muggle now?" Tom sneered.
Harry smiled at Fleur as her eyes glared murderous anger.
"'Ow did a beast like you get Mama?!"
He shrugged. "I think she just loves a good fucking. Like mother, like daughter, I bet."
"You'll never find…" She trailed off as she looked around the tiny Azkaban cell warily, sensing something wrong. "Why 'ave you brought us here? Zis is the prison you seek to put me in?"
Harry wiped his bloody nose. "When I was a little boy, my family took me to the zoo." He grinned. "I learned I could talk to snakes."
"You are a snake." She snapped.
"They keep the snakes behind glass windows, you know. The monkeys, the scorpions, the penguins. Glass, glass, glass. But I saw them bringing a lion in from aboard, something they'd caught."
"Shut ze fuck up." Fleur spat. "I will kill you!"
He ignored her. "And guess what? No glass. They had him in a cage of bars. Electrified bars."
Her eyes widened in realization, but it was too late. He tackled her into the cell bars. The sizzle was loud enough to hear, her hair burning to a crisp, strands dropping to the grand.
Fleur's eyes whitened and rolled back, her arms extended uselessly.
"Dishonourable trick." Mei grumbled.
Apolline cheered as Harry locked Fleur's arms tightly behind her. He couldn't help himself — he thrust his cock between her thighs, sliding against super thin material separating his shaft from her pussy lips.
Even like this, she felt incredible. Harry gave her tits a guilty squeeze before pushing her down to her knees.
"Guh," She dribbled from pouty pink lips.
"You're so beautiful, you don't even need makeup." He admired. "Still, maybe some shine?" He teased, running his cock over her face. He gripped his thick base and slapped the full length of his meat onto her gorgeous, ethereal features.
Her ice-blue eyes were blurry and unfocused as he bounced his cock onto her lips, her nose, her forehead, smearing her in the jizz he'd unloaded into her mother, Apolline's own spray of juices, and his building lances of precum.
"I'm going to keep you chained to my bed, honey." Harry taunted. "Your ass, your tits, your cunt, just three holes to drain me morning, noon and night."
Something approaching clarity returned to her angry blue eyes. Her glossy pink lips opened to protest, but Harry wasn't interested.
The power felt good. Even Tom was silent, feeling the sheer thrill of dominance. Fleur Delacour, on her knees, her face covered in slimy jizz.
His to take.
"I won't submit, never, comprendre—"
He shoved his dick in her mouth, gathering fistfuls of her long satin silver-blonde hair. He wasn't gentle. He thrust his cock all the way down her tight throat.
"Gurrrk!" She choked, but he kept pushing. She had a model's pout, a pout that grew as he pumped his cock between her distended lips. Her warm wet mouth felt like a heaven long denied.
And despite her protests, he could see the arousal in her eyes, the cum-craving she had.
It had been a long time training her.
Pavlov's Dog.
Harry's Veela.
She panted, turquoise eyes staring up at him, glistening with tears. And finally, she gave in.
Tongue underneath his cock, lapping at his veins. Choking throat milking him as he fed his cock in all the way. Apolline was behind her suddenly, holding her head back at the right angle for him to descend deeper, to stretch her throat.
"Fuck!" Harry saw his own bulge in her throat. He reached rock bottom. Her nose pressed up against his groin, inhaling the very glob of cum her mother had milked from him.
"Use her, Master." Apolline encouraged. "Let her milk you. Show her what the rest of her life will be like."
Fleur gagged as he began fucking her throat, rolling his hips gently. Harry didn't even want to blink, because he'd waited so long for this.
Her downfall.
The proud girl, broken.
Choking on his monstrous cock, tears down her cheeks, spit streaming down his shaft. Her mouth stretched wide, her throat massaging his throbbing veins.
His teenage fantasies come to life — the fantasies of every Hogwarts boy.
"Do it for them." He muttered to himself. He picked up the pace, shoving his cock down her wet gullet, his balls slapping against her chin loudly.
"Do it for them." He repeated, plunging as deep as he could before grinding his hips, using his cock like a stirring spoon in the spluttering saliva of her throat.
For Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean. For all the cocks she'd teased, the red faces, dismissive comments, all the aching balls she'd caused, all the late night stroke sessions.
He pressed his cock against her face and rolled his hips.
His dick was the conductor's baton and with it, he could produce every noise.
"Grrrk!" "Mmmff!" "Hurgh!" Every sound of her gagging, choking, gurgling, every desperate attempt to breath.
As his arousal grew, his magic responded. Thick and heavy, boiling the very atmosphere. Apolline moaned, fingers dropping to her own pussy. Fleur's eyes grew sultry, lidded. Her nipples grew harder.
And the Room of Requirement responded to his every whim, the castle supercharged by his powerful aura.
He blinked. The Tournament's Second Task. He stood on the wooden pier of the Hogwarts lake, face-fucking Fleur in her ripped whitish-blue swimsuit. The crowd roared with approval.
Fleur's eyes went wide at her new surroundings, but it only served to make her hotter.
She drove her head forward, arched her ass out, the thin one-piece being eaten by her thick cheeks.
Ludo Bagman's voice sounded over the crowd. "Well, apologies, ladies and gentlemen. We had hoped to award points but you know what Veela are like!"
The crowd laughed. Fleur moaned.
"Everyone knows." Harry told her. "Just breeders for superior wizards, aren't you?"
The Room changed. Fleur was metres away from the TriWizard Cup, from victory, but she was getting her throat stuffed by Harry's meaty cock.
"Oh, what a shame." Bagman sighed. "The Beauxbatons champion was about to win the Cup but Harry Potter simply dropped his robes! The Veela just couldn't resist a big cock! It's been her fatal flaw this whole Tournament."
Fleur gurgled, her hands on his thighs, suckling eagerly. She pushed his legs back and took a sharp breath of air as her mouth was finally freed.
"Wait, she might be changing her mind! She's resisting!" Bagman said excitedly.
Fleur fluttered her eyelashes, licked her lips of precum and then kissed up Harry's shaft. Lipstick kisses over his vein, over his head, over his slit.
"Nevermind," Bagman sighed. "She just can't help herself."
Harry stroked her hair. "She just wants to worship my cock. That's worth a Cup, isn't it, Fleur?"
The girl mewled in agreement as she slurped on his mushroom head.
"Pathetic whore." Mei murmured.
Apolline was crying with pride though. She'd sank to her knees beside her daughter. "He's the male Veela, ma bichette. We have to submit. We have to obey. We have to love." She chanted, glowing.
Fleur looked at her mother out of the corner of her eye as her mouth was stuffed again. Was her mother brain fucked?
The Room changed again. Fleur knelt on a marble kitchen tile, dressed in a skimpy French maid outfit, just like her mother.
"We have to cook and clean for him." Her mother smiled happily. "He does so love us in these silly outfits." She said affectionately, adjusting Fleur's ruffled white headband as Harry knocked it askew with his firm pounding.
The Room changed again. Fleur was in a gauzy harem's slave outfit, just sheer fabrics of pink around her waist, a golden bra on top.
Apolline nuzzled at her cheek. "I'm so glad I could be here to see you become a woman. There's so much joy in serving."
Fleur's eyes widened, panic in her eyes. Her mother had gone insane!
The older woman nibbled on her earlobe. Then her voice was urgent in her ear, whispering. "We can escape if we distract him. Pretend to obey and when he's cumming, we'll run."
Fleur blinked, her body sagging with relief, even as she spluttered around Harry's unrelenting pounding. Her mother was okay — she knew that Mama wouldn't submit to a man like this.
With Mama's help, they pushed Harry back enough for them to double-team him.
They gave him a show with sultry eyes, embracing each other, pressing their naked breasts together. Apolline's huge milky tits bulging as Fleur pressed her own perky chest against her, rubbing their nipples together and giggling.
Slowly, they kissed, performing for him — spit, tongues, saliva, loud moans. Apolline undressed her daughter, fingers trailing down Fleur's toned abdomen to work her wet pussy.
Finally, they teamed up on his ready-to-blow cock, kisses on either side of his shaft. Her mother dribbled saliva down while Fleur blew him.
And as Fleur deep-throated him, bobbing her head back and forth, tongue twisting, throat swallowing, using every trick she knew, Apolline lapped at his base.
Mama winked at her as Harry groaned.
Fleur knew what that meant — now was their chance. If she didn't escape now, she wouldn't be able to resist his mind-blowing cum, the liquid honey that drove her mad.
"I'm gonna cum!" Harry announced. At the first spurt, Fleur tried to retreat before he could snatch her hair up.
Only she couldn't — because Mama had a firm grip on her hair. Holding her still. Pushing her forward.
Fleur gurgled, trying in vain to rise, to rear back. But Mama stood on the back of her calves, holding a fistful of her hair.
She cried, finally understanding.
Betrayal.
Harry unloaded, glorious hot cum deep in her stomach. It was full of magic, thick, dense, creamy. It was everything she'd dreamed of.
But never like this.
"Silly girl." Mama said fondly, patting her bulging cheeks as Harry groaned his long release, deep down her throat.
Fleur wanted to say 'how could you?'. She wanted to cry. But lips stretched around the thickest cover, she could only say. "Gurrk!"
Mama knelt beside her and cradled her daughter's growing stomach. Every tear she cried was kissed away, like she was a child again.
"You'll be happier than you ever thought possible." Mama promised. "It is true love."
Harry blew out a long breath as he finished, pulling out of her mouth. He wiped his dick on her hair as she spluttered for air.
"Look at me." Mama urged.
Fleur wiped her eyes and did. She saw her in the way that she'd seen her for months now, the truth she'd not realized. Mama was glowing. Happy in a way she'd never seen, not ever.
A vivacious beauty, glorious and proud, full of love.
Fleur sniffled. Mama was always right…was she right about Harry?
"Trust me?" Her mother asked.
Fleur nodded a little. Mama tugged her onto her back. On her back, she realized she was in two laps, cradled by two people.
"You didn't think I wouldn't be here for you, did you?" Marie teased, clad in only her school stockings.
Fleur took a long, shuddering breath. This was what she'd wanted, after all, wasn't it?
What she'd come here for.
Cradled by her mother and her best friend, Fleur looked up at the beast.
When had Harry grown so tall? His giant cock was red with anger, white with French surrender, swaying above her.
The Room changed her outfit. A silver collar around her neck, the chain in his hand.
"Gold is more expensive." She half-sobbed, half-giggled.
Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Never change." The Room changed it to gold.
Marie hooked one hand under her thigh, Mama the other. Fleur was left open, a petal waiting to be plucked.
She bit her lip, looking down at herself. Her pussy had never been so — so wet, so red, so desperate, so glistening. She could practically see her lips quivering.
Harry knelt down, stroking his cock, as if it could be any harder.
"I want to hear it."
Fleur knew what he demanded. "Please fuck me." She begged.
"Please what?"
"Please…" Her mind went blank, panic setting in.
"Master." Mama supplied into her ear.
"Master. Please fuck me, Master." Fleur begged, panting. "I-I don't want to be left behind. I shall do eet all. Everyzing." Tears spilled down her face. "I'm a whore. A toy. Chain me, use me, love me, don't leave me, 'Arry." She chanted.
Harry knee-crawled between her thighs. A thumb up her drenched pussy, as if he couldn't believe how wet she was, and then he slowly pushed his cockhead in.
Fleur screamed. Harry was big in her throat, but inhuman inside of her. She squirmed, but Mama and Marie held her firmly. She could only buck up from the ground, arching, which only sent him deeper faster.
And as she was filled, she became owned. It was like she was an ocean turning from blue to Potter red. She was filled so fully she imagined her blue eyes turning Harry's green.
Fleur gasped — she wanted to beat the ground, to claw the sheets, but her arms were held away. She glanced down at her thighs and trembled at the sight of her abdomen bulging with his invading cock.
This wasn't being fucked — it was being possessed.
Mama caressed her cheek. "You're doing so well, ma bichette. You're so good and wet for him, oui?"
"Mama!" She cried, her pussy quivering as she spurted her juices. A filthy spray of humiliating girl-cum, all over Harry's stomach.
"Zat happens." Mama giggled. "It's okay. You need to be wet, he's so big."
Marie sighed happily into her ear. "You'll feel him thumping against your heart. Like he's saying I love you, deep inside."
Fleur didn't think Harry was reaching her heart — it felt more like his cock was going to go straight through her and out of her throat. Overwhelmed, overstimulated, she wanted to stare at the blank ceiling — only Harry's chain forced her neck up, forced her to look as his cock filled her completely.
Forced her to look as he retreated, showing his ridged cock glistening with all of her juices. Forced her to look at her traitorous tight pussylips clinging to his veins desperately as he pulled out, at the little splatter of her juices.
And then he entered again, and it was like she'd ascended to heaven once more. The mind-blowing heat of him, the feeling of him scraping against her walls, her nerves.
Fleur heard a wail and realized it was her. She needed more.
There it was again though, that infuriating smug smirk. Harry filled her, pulled out, and splayed his hands on either side of her messy cunt.
"You only get fucked if you admit what a teasing whore you are." He spanked her pussy hard, making her shriek and spray, evidence to his words.
She gasped out, struggling to even breathe as Marie and Mama's hands coursed over her breasts.
"I'm a slut!" She begged. Harry didn't move.
A sob caught in her throat. "I love teasing men, I love it!"
He thrust once, hard, almost painfully.
Fleur whimpered, her bottom lip trembling. "I love making men 'ard! Oooh!" She cried as he thrust again. "I love teasing pathétique leetle boys, making zem dribble in their pantalons!"
Harry fucked her hard, his balls slapping on her ass. Just the sound made her cream — the knowledge that she was on her back in the same place her mother had been fucked.
"Cocktease." Harry breathed roughly, using her golden chain as leverage to pound her hard.
"I love to make girls full of envie." Fleur admitted, squealing as Mama pinched her nipple.
"My spoiled girl." Mama smirked.
Harry thumbed her clit as he crouched over her, pumping her so hard that her body moved back, even with the other two holding her down.
"My teasing French whore." He said affectionately.
"Please, Master!" Fleur sobbed, not even knowing what she was begging for.
As they fucked, she admitted her secrets in exchange for his dick. Every thrust was bargained for.
"I'm a slut!"
Thrust.
"I can't fall asleep wizzout your cock!"
Harry rolled his hips deep inside her.
"Ze smell, ze taste!"
Clap-clap-clap as he drilled.
"I finger myzelf five times a day theenking about you!"
Her toes curled as she came again. Marie swept the sweaty hair from her forehead. Mama kissed away the saliva from her chin.
"I save your cum on my tongue for as long as I can!"
Harry grabbed her asscheeks and lifted her up to fuck her deeper, squeezing them hard.
"I rub your seed into my cheeks and nose so I can keep it!"
Harry bit his lip and groaned.
The whore was coming out. The veil revealed.
"I beg Marie to drink your seed from her pussy!"
"Oh, fuck." Harry grimaced, trying to keep himself from blowing.
Fleur was going mad, her pussy ravaged, unable to move, unable to escape. It was all too overwhelming, the hands kneading her tits, the cock that impaled her, the orgasms that undid her from toe to top. Her limbs were limp, but she was held up for him, a wet hole to enjoy, a sign of her future.
She couldn't take it.
"Mama!" She cried. "He's in my stomach!" She wept.
"Ssh," Mama held her thigh up, expert fingers working her daughter's clit. "Veela fit our men."
Fleur threw her head back wildly, tossing like a wounded gazelle, searching for her mother's comfort. "B-but 'Arry will tear me in two!"
Mama smirked. "As long as it's good for him."
She gaped, but her traitorous mother didn't bend. Instead, the woman nodded at Marie and slowly, they folded her legs completely back, so her feet sandwiched her head.
"Mama!" Fleur shook — in this position, it felt like Harry was even deeper. "Aieee!" She screamed and shook, her eyes rolling back as she squirted. It was a waterfall spray, bigger than any Harry had ever seen, splashing onto his face.
"She's a good girl for you, Master." Apolline said to him lovingly.
Marie blew him a kiss. "You've wanted this for so long, love." She blinked back tears. "I'm so happy for you both."
Harry looked at his two girls, his loves. "Thank you, both of you." He said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "You've done so well. You're my two good girls."
Apolline and Marie both shuddered a little at his words. Inspired, eager to show their love, they went above and beyond.
With one hand holding Fleur's limp feet next to her hair, they explored with their other. Apolline worked Fleur's clit while Marie slipped a finger into Fleur's tight asshole, just like they'd practiced.
Fleur made a strange panting noise, but she wasn't capable of thought, let alone words.
Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations, the victory.
His Veela. In and out into the girl's sodden cunt — even barely conscious, she was still milking him.
On his next thrust, his cock met Marie's finger as she probed Fleur's tight anal ring — and slid straight into her tight asshole.
Fleur's scream was louder than her bird-form. Harry's eyes flicked open to find himself balls-deep in her ass, accidentally. He pulled out and Marie re-arranged him back into her pussy — they exchanged a guilty glance as Fleur panted.
"Whoops." He murmured.
Apolline just giggled. "She is trying to beat ze line, non?"
"My bad." He said.
"Focus, 'Arry." She chastised. "Maybe a change in position?"
Harry stroked himself as the two girls rolled the floppy Veela onto her front. Apolline spanked her daughter hard and said something rapid in French — whatever it was, Fleur arched her bottom up obediently.
Harry forewent the chain and instead used Fleur's glossy long hair as his grip in one hand, and a meaty handful of her asscheek in the other. Her back was arched unnaturally, her raised ass quickly propped up with a pillow, all so he could pump her hard and fast.
"It's good to be king, non?" Marie giggled as she fed him into her friend's messy cunt.
Harry was too lust-filled to reply, gazing down at Fleur's unbelievably tight asscheeks as he pounded against them. The jiggles, the tautness, the ripples, the winking of her asshole as her mother fingered it, as she came again and again, the obscene froth of her used cunt.
The uh-uh-uh moans that synchronised with each of his ass-clapping thrusts.
The Room changed the scene. She was on her bed, getting railed while Mama fingered her ass.
The Room changed again. She was on her mother's bed, dirtying the sheets with her filthy pussy.
Fleur clawed at the sheets, desperate to reclaim some sanity, some dignity. "I'm Fleur Delacour," She mumbled.
"I know." Harry chuckled.
It was no use. But she had to keep trying. She tried to wriggle away, rock forth, to squirm. She tried to clap her own asscheeks together, if only to have any power of the situation. But everything she did just made her cum, a never-ending quiver of her nerves.
She could only use her words, so she looked over her shoulder as he fucked her into the mattress.
Her mouth formed a sneer. "Leetle — oh, fuuuck — l-leetle boy couldn't take me, so he 'ad to take my Mama and my best friend!"
Harry snarled. This bitch! She'd never stop trying to control men, even while she was squirting around his enormous cock, while her own mother fingered her ass.
He fucked her harder, spanking her cheeks so hard it left handprints. He tugged her hair back so firmly that her body was almost in a horseshoe shape.
Fleur laughed madly. "'Arry Potter needs help to fuck a woman properl—" She wailed as he jack-hammered her cunt, her eyes losing focus, face in her sheets.
"Stubborn slut!" He growled.
The teenage Veela spat her hair out of her lips. "You 'ad to make Mama dress up as me because you could not get ze real thing!"
Harry pushed Apolline's fingers out of Fleur's rosebud and replaced it with his own, less gentle, thumb.
"Shut the slut up!" He ordered, letting go of her hair.
Fleur's tight spine was given relief, but when she tried to speak again, she found her face smooshed into her mother's juicy cunt, oozing Harry's cum.
"Guh—" She had to open her mouth just to breathe — Mama wrapped her thick thighs around her head, squeezing her into her box.
Apolline used her hair to tug her further in, just for good measure, and stared back at Harry.
"Cum, 'Arry!" She begged. "Make us a family. Finish her."
Marie nodded eagerly. "We'll be so grateful."
It was Fleur that did him in — the eternal minx did the only thing she could, in her compromised position. She pushed her ass further up, higher, and wrapped her ankles around the back of his thighs.
It was her surrender. But it was a way of fighting back, too — telling him that she'd be what he wanted. The teasing, playful, semi-dominant, pinup fantasy, the teenage tease who he'd have to work to plunder.
A sex toy, but only if he used her right.
A trophy wife, only if he kept her shiny..
A doll, only if he bought her the clothes and the dollhouse.
Harry growled the bonding spell as he came. He buried himself deep into her quivering cunt, his own body trembling.
"Fuck, yes!" A tidal wave released from his aching heavy balls, his cock grew bigger and he gasped relief as he spurted hot ropes of cum.
"Gah, take it!" He bucked into her as he filled her, glorying in the full-body orgasm that she was having underneath him, writhing and mewling into her mother's pussy. He filled her to the brim, emptying his balls into her virgin pussy, until his seed dribbled from the sides of his cock.
He gasped out a laugh as he finished. But underneath him, it was Fleur who felt like she'd unburdened herself.
Her fears, her insecurities, her anger — it was replaced by his love. When her mother let her go, she looked back through her hair and saw a man she now knew she loved.
It was no longer a craving of his cum. It was no longer an obsession with his fame, his looks.
Her pink lips formed an O, in shock. Her heavy stomach fluttered. Her heart beat a thousand times, like a Snitch's wings. Her pulse faced, her cheeks reddened.
She was in love.
Harry smiled at her, and it felt as good as the sex.
She stared at him in wonder. He was so handsome, a statue carved.
"Welcome." Mama said softly, stroking her hair. "Do not worry, ma bichette. You will find a place with him. He has a heart so large." She whispered.
Fleur took it in. Mama was always right, after all. She had to love him. She had to please him.
It felt like there was nothing more important.
What did he want? He wanted Fleur Delacour, of course.
Who wouldn't?
He wanted Fleur as she was — a teasing little sexpot.
Fleur hummed as she watched Marie clean his cock, bobbing her head.
Harry wanted the ideal of her. The unattainable fantasy, except he'd attained it.
She could do that.
She met his eyes, tossed her hair back, and sniffed. "You 'ave a lot of energy, but so does a mindless Abraxan."
Harry was stunned into silence, and for a terrible second, Fleur thought she'd misjudged.
And then he laughed.
It was the most beautiful sound in the world.
He grinned. "You have a nice wet hole, but so does a sink drain."
Fleur felt so light, she thought she could fly. She rolled onto her back, enjoying her mother stroking her hair.
She snapped her fingers lazily. "Marie can clean me after too, oui? Zat is all she is good for."
From Harry's cock, Marie giggled.
Harry leaned over her and kissed her forehead lovingly.
Fleur resisted the urge to squeal like a schoolgirl.
"Rest. When you wake up," He murmured. "You can put that mouth to good use."
She scowled. "I shall do no such thing."
Harry smirked. She'd used to think his smugness was infuriating — now, his cockiness was adorable. "We'll see." His fingers were between her thighs, and then between her lips, feeding her a thick string of cum.
She sucked his fingers — she was going to be his cockteasing mean girl, but there was no sense wasting good cum.
She yawned, closing her eyes, exhaustion settling over.
A sudden thought occurred to her. "Did you make my pillow smell like cum all zis time?"
Above, Harry and Apolline were kissing. Mama was crying, pouring herself into the kiss. "Merci, merci, Master." She cried.
Fleur smiled.
It was weird. But it felt right.
And that was love, wasn't it?
###
Draco crept through the cold halls slowly. He wasn't used to the heavy furs of Durmstrang's robes and he couldn't afford to be seen.
Durmstrang was an unforgiving place, especially for the new kid out of nowhere, the one with no recognizable name.
He swept his hair back as it fell in front of his eyes. He missed his expensive oils and his slicked back hair. He missed his platinum blond hair.
It was just one of many sacrifices he'd make.
Black hair was what the Dark Lord's underlings had given him. Every time he saw his reflection in a window, he was reminded of Potter.
What Potter had taken from him. What Potter was doing right now to his mother.
He shook himself. Focus.
The Dark Lord had given him a job.
The job was in the wooden cabin on the icy tundra. The popular girls loved to skate on the frozen lake and then gossip over hot chocolate in the cabin after dark.
From what he'd picked up from eavesdropping and the half-friends he'd made, Helena had never been a popular girl.
Until she appeared on the front page as a rich Malfoy. British nobility, hiding in their school.
He crept closer to the wooden cabin, pressing his face against the foggy window to peer in.
"Are you serious?" A girl asked. "Look at those things, they're heavier than my wand. Wait, are those Voltolini earrings?"
"Maybe." Helena responded. Draco could see her blush.
"Those are more expensive than, like, a Firebolt, you know?"
"Really?" Helena sounded genuinely surprised. A girl at her feet was painting her toenails. "My boyfriend got them for me." She hugged herself. "They glow white when he's thinking of me."
Draco watched on solemnly, his blood cold.
Helena had a rich boyfriend.
He'd always known it was possible. Merlin, the Dark Lord had sent him here just because he thought there was a connection.
But the thought that Potter wasn't just…taking his mother, but his sister too.
He clenched his fist, shaking in rage.
"Is it love, then?" One of the girls asked.
Helena looked down demurely. "It is."
A brunette girl leaned over eagerly. "Have you like…gone all the way?"
"Katarina, stop embarrassing her." A rich voice said. Radmila Petrovic, Draco thought — the school's popular girl. "She's just a blushing virgin, you know."
Helena bit her lip. "I mean…we aren't married, you know. I know what this school is like about marriage."
Katarina snorted. "Please. I know for a fact that Bilyana and Georgi were doing it for a year before they even got engaged. I saw them!"
"Still…"
Katarina waved her away. "If you know he's the one, what's the problem?"
Radmila nodded. "At least it stops them using…try-out girls."
Helena stroked her long platinum-blonde hair nervously, clearly unused to the company of the other girls. "What are they?"
"You don't know?!" The girl who was painting her fingernails exclaimed. "Like, girls that don't want their first time to be with their virgin wife." She rolled her eyes. "You know how their egos are — they want to be experienced lovers." She held her fingers up with air quotes.
Katarina nodded excitedly. "So they use girls that aren't, like, worried about marriage. Not like us, of course. I mean, like, Muggleborns, half-bloods."
"Oh," Helena giggled, her face red. "He doesn't need a practice girl."
"So you've done it." Radmila said loftily.
Draco felt sick to his stomach as his sister fidgeted, fingers in her lap. "Maybe."
"Girl, whaaaat!" Katarina scooted up beside her. "Tell me everything."
Draco's mouth was dry, his insides turning. He didn't want to be here for this.
Helena held her chest. "It was…" She licked her lips. "Life-changing."
"Shuuuut up," Radmila scowled. "You're lying. Everyone knows the first time is meant to hurt."
"I'm not!" Helena said defensively, frowning. "It was a little, at first, because he's so…big." The girls tittered. "But he was gentle and I was so," she flushed, "ready."
Katarina sniggered. "You mean wet."
"Don't say it like that!"
"You slut!"
Helena covered her face with both hands as she giggled. "With him, it's…"
"You are actually, like, swooning." Katarina said, awed.
Helena shivered. "It was the best day of my life. I couldn't get enough. I still can't."
Draco slid away from the window. His skin felt like it was crawling, his chest physically hurting. Job or no job, he couldn't listen to any more of this.
He trudged the long walk back to the castle, feet kicking up clouds of snow.
The Dark Lord's instructions — and threats — sat heavily in his head, like a curdled potion.
This was his last chance. His only chance.
Mother had forsaken him. Potter would kill him on sight. The only path left lay with the Dark Lord.
And taking away Potter's treasures.
"You can do this." Draco muttered to himself. Maybe, one day, his long-lost sister would even thank him for it. "Whatever it takes."
He walked his Father's path in service of the Dark Lord. Father would have approved, he was sure. He'd say his constant catchphrase — a Malfoy does what he can for power.
There'd be a little pride. He'd cuff him around the head, tell him he was buying him a new broom, call him the little dragon.
And that was love, wasn't it?