Harry kept smirking at Fleur at her failed attempt but he could see she was truly mad. Deciding that offering the beautiful veela an olive branch would be of no loss to him while also curious about how different his probe was from hers, he decided to have a candid talk with the girl. She said that he had felt her up, but that was not his intention, and he believed he should make things clear. Alas, before he could say anything, another irritant popped up.
Both Fleur and Harry turned around as Rita Skeeter arrived, grinning widely. Her eyes shifted from one to the other and a sadistic gleam entered her eyes – one that Harry easily realized meant nothing good.
"Well then, how about a nice little interview now? For the Prophet?" Skeeter grinned, her eyes glinting as she gazed at them. She turned to the side and spotted Diggory and Krum, both of whom looked as if they'd rather be elsewhere. "Come on, sooner we're done with it, sooner you can get back to your practice or whatever."
Harry saw Fleur bristle at Skeeter's dismissive tone and he silently prayed for her to incinerate the hideous woman. To his disappointment, nothing happened as Skeeter stepped away and took her seat on a stool. Her photographer arranged seats for all four champions and smirking, the woman pulled out a pad and a quill that quickly levitated and began hovering in front of her.
"I vill not talk if you use that quill," Krum said with finality as he cast a disdainful glance at the pad and quill, earning a look of surprise from Skeeter.
Harry cast a curious gaze at the quill, finding its poisonous green color as hideous as its owner, and as if noticing his confusion, Krum said, "It is a Burz Tsitat. You people call it a Quick-Quotes Quill."
"I've heard about those from my father. Nasty business, Miss Skeeter," Diggory said firmly. "I will also not speak with you if you use that."
Both Fleur and Harry joined in, nodding. They didn't truly know what a quick-quotes quill was or what it did, but if these two felt so strongly about it, then it was fair to say something was fishy. There was also the fact that Skeeter came off as a shady character herself and anything ambiguous with her was most likely to turn out negative, and it was logical to avoid giving her more room than they were comfortable with. They did not need to accommodate her in the slightest.
"You know what that quill does?" Harry asked Fleur in a whisper, smirking when he felt her shiver once again. He was having a lot of fun making her squirm and shiver like that today, and he knew it was both because of their proximity and how his magic had been influencing her. He had discovered her reaching out with her veela magic to gain a feel of him, and he had reciprocated her action in kind, although she seemed to have taken offense to that. He had no idea why. Fleur Delacour did not seem like a hypocrite to him, at least based on what he knew about her so far, and it made him wonder if he had done more than what she had done with him.
All Fleur did was shake her head without sparing him even a glance, and Harry turned back to Skeeter who eyed all four champions with an unpleasant stare.
"Fine," she ground out, visibly irritated as she switched the green quill with a normal dicta-quill. In no time, she had her pleasant façade back as the champions took their seats, and to no one's surprise, Harry was the one she started with.
"Well then Harry, what"
"It's Mr. Potter, Miss Skeeter," Harry interrupted. "It wouldn't be right to give off the feeling to the public that we are more familiar than we truly are, right?"
Skeeter blinked before she gave him a tight smile. "As you say," she replied. "What made you decide to enter your name in the Goblet of Fire, Mr. Potter?"
"Nothing," Harry replied, and remained silent. Silently, he cast another itching hex, with Skeeter being the victim this time. He felt Fleur glance at him out of the corners of her eyes, since in addition to being more sensitive to magic, she was sitting closest to him and as such, she must have felt the flow of magic. He reaffirmed to himself that behind all the posturing and haughtiness, she was indeed a very capable witch.
He ignored her curious glance and kept his eyes trained on Skeeter who looked confused at his response.
"Could you elaborate for our readers, please?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't," Harry continued, and he could see the woman was starting to get irritated with his answers already. The itching hex was also starting to work, and everyone saw how the woman was squirming in place.
"All right. What would your parents think of you entering? Would they be proud?"
"I believe that question is for them, right?" Harry asked rhetorically. "You may try and ask it of them if you wish. I wouldn't mind."
Skeeter winced as the itching intensified, crawling up her arms and legs to under her knees and armpits now. She had to resist the urge to reach and scratch herself, and it was getting hard to remain focused on this interview. She could feel it expanding all over her skin, and she absently scratched her neck. Her eyes widened slightly when the itching intensified right where she had scratched herself and quickly traveled further ahead to her front, covering her chest and belly in no time.
"Are you all right, Miss Skeeter?" Diggory asked curiously as he leaned forward.
"Fine!" Skeeter snapped in a higher tone than normal, taking everyone by surprise.
"That's not the tone to speak to the champions with, Miss Skeeter," Harry said curtly, staring the woman down. "I believe you should apologize to Mr. Diggory for snapping at him like that."
Skeeter's eyes widened for a moment as Diggory stared at her with an unimpressed look on his face.
"You have my apologies, Mr. Diggory," she said with a wince – something she would've never done if she'd not been in the company of several people.
"I don't think I'll be giving you an interview after that, Ms. Skeeter," Diggory said curtly and stood up.
"And I believe you've already taken too much of our time already," Harry continued, nodding.
Skeeter's eyes widened slightly and she seemed to be grasping at straws now. Her itching had worsened considerably in such a short span, and she could feel it inching toward her privates. As such, she asked something she wouldn't have dared to do under normal circumstances.
"Ms. Delacour, how likely is it that you, as the only female competitor and a veela, will use your veela powers to influence your fellow champions outside the tasks to gain an advantage?"
Everyone's eyes widened at the abhorrent question as they stared at Skeeter in shock. Fleur did not remain idle for long and shot to her feet, her eyes wide in rage.
Meanwhile, Harry took a step back, a disbelieving smile threatening to burst forth as he tried to control himself, and he felt both Krum and Diggory join him.
Fleur felt more enraged than she'd ever felt before. Her veela self was threatening to burst forth, slighted by the insult that had been leveled at her. She had not liked Skeeter since she had first seen her, and her behavior had only amplified her dislike for the woman. For her to now turn to her and insinuate that she was a loose girl just because she had a different heritage was both racist and sexist of the woman, and Fleur was forced to work at calming herself using her Occlumency lest she incinerate the woman where she stood.
"I believe zat is enough," the booming voice of Madame Maxime cut in as she approached, her face livid. She glanced at her student and wrapped an arm around her, slowly leading her toward the exit. Her eyes fell on Dumbledore and she said with as much courtesy as she could muster, "Dumblydorr, eet ees my request as a guest of your school zat zis woman not be allowed on ze grounds for as long as we are 'ere."
Dumbledore bowed respectfully, his disapproving stare burying a shocked Rita Skeeter deeper into her seat. The woman kept squirming, her eyes wide as if she couldn't believe what she'd just asked, and that too in front of so many people.
Only Ollivander had left, and while Fleur and Madame Maxime were livid, everyone else from the other three champions to Dumbledore, Crouch, and Ludo Bagman gazed at Skeeter disapprovingly. Only her photographer and Karkaroff looked entirely uncaring, although expecting much of either was hopeless. Harry had discovered as much so far.
"Miss Skeeter, I believe a talk is essential right now. You all should get back to your practices. The task is less than two weeks away," the headmaster instructed, and they did not need to be told twice.
Harry followed alongside Diggory as Karkaroff and Madame Maxime led Krum and Fleur out respectively. Before leaving though, he made sure to cast an intensifying hex on Skeeter to worsen her itching. He had gone for two hours initially, but perhaps she needed a longer dose. Five hours should do the trick, and if not, then he would be happy to treat her to an even bigger meal. It was as easy as a flick of his wrist, after all.
Dumbledore glanced at Harry as he walked out, having noticed what he had done to Skeeter both times and although it amused him, he needed to be firm with the woman right now whose conduct had been inexcusable.
Exchanging a glance with Barty Crouch Senior, he turned to Skeeter. Banning her from the grounds was indeed the fair punishment for her abhorrent question.
-Break-
Sunlight streamed through the windows of the room, casting a warm glow over the pair of desks and a row of books that lined the shelves on the walls.
Daphne Greengrass sat at one of the desks, all thoughts forgotten as she pored over a thick tome from the Restricted Section of Hogwarts, her brows furrowed as she chewed on the end of the quill she was holding.
Their classes had ended early, and she had wasted no time in making her way over to continue her research. No other thought invaded her mind as she was completely absorbed her what she was doing.
The soft creak of the door barely registered in her mind, and it was not until the familiar voice broke the silence that she took her eyes off the tome and glanced up.
"Merlin's beard, Greengrass," Regina remarked as she sauntered in, her voice laced with amusement. "Don't tell me you came here right after the classes ended. Do something nice for a change. You look like you need it."
Daphne gazed at the older girl with an unimpressed look on her face. "What I do with my time is none of your business, Parkinson," she said coolly. "What are you doing here, anyway? Harry's not here."
Regina chuckled, moving closer and taking a seat on the desk as she shoved a book to the side. Daphne glanced over with pursed lips.
"I could ask you the same, darling. What are you doing here without Harry present? It's a beautiful day outside. You should be out there, enjoying it. Not stuck here with these dusty, old books."
"Some of us do take our responsibilities seriously, Parkinson," Daphne responded, returning her gaze to the tome she had been reading.
Regina ignored the tone as she gazed at the tomes scattered over the table. "My, my, these don't look like books you find every day. Restricted Section? But how did you get permission to access it, I wonder?"
"That's none of your concern," Daphne replied curtly, earning a chuckle from Regina."
"Fine, don't tell me. I can guess myself. Hmm… Let me think… is this the favor you asked Harry for in exchange of your help? Aha! Hit the nail right on the head on my first guess," Regina crowed, grinning.
Daphne's lips were set in a thin line as she gazed at a smirking Regina.
"Oh, come on, don't be like that," she said, leaning forward on the desk as she rested her elbow on top of a stack of books. "We're all friends here, right? Or… maybe more than just friends?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Daphne's eyes narrowed slightly as the quill snapped in her grip. Regina glanced at it with mirth shining in her eyes.
"What exactly are you implying?"
Regina's eyes sparkled with mischief as she gazed at the blonde. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm implying. It's no secret, at least to me, why you're really here. Same reason you always seem to find your way to this room when a certain someone might be around."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Daphne said, her voice tight as she reached for another quill, pointedly avoiding the older girl's gaze.
"Sure you don't," Regina drawled. She leaned closer, almost invading Daphne's personal space, and the blonde leaned back, a warning look on her face. "And I'm sure it's only business that you've gone out of your way so much to ensure Harry's as prepared for this tournament as possible, hmm? Spying for him, fighting for him with the Frenchie, and trying to be in this room as much as you can?"
Daphne's jaw clenched as she glared at Regina. "My reasons are none of your business, Parkinson."
"Touchy, touchy," Regina teased. "You know, for someone who acts all confident and haughty all the time, you're awfully defensive about this. And don't get me started on how different your tone is when you talk to Harry. Hmm… something's fishy…"
"I have nothing to be defensive about," Daphne replied in as calm a voice as she could muster.
"No?" Regina asked as she leaned even closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Then you don't feel jealous at all when you see me with Harry?"
Daphne's eyes widened slightly, and so did Regina's smirk.
"When he used my mouth like I'm his property, and when I suck him off as if my life depends on it?" Regina continued in a whisper. "Or when he fucks me and uses me as he wants? When he claims me, just as only he can? You don't feel jealous? Even a teensy bit? Hmm, Greengrass?"
Daphne did not reply, instead staring at Regina's smirking face and her eyes that gleamed with vindication.
"You know what I see from where I'm sitting, Greengrass?" Regina asked softly, in a whisper. "I see a girl who is beyond jealous of me, just like those bints I see around the castle. But it's different. Those bints don't know Harry, oh no. You on the other hand… you are nothing like them. You wanna know more? You look terrified. Afraid he might reject you, maybe? Or that it might shatter this silly Ice Queen image you've worked so hard to maintain for years?"
"You don't know anything about me!" Daphne hissed with a fierce glare, her composure finally cracking.
Instead of caving in, Regina's eyes gleamed and her smirk turned feral. "Oh, I think I know more than enough. I've seen how you look at him when you think no one's watching. I can see how much you desire him when you see him fucking me. The longing in your eyes… not just for his magnificent cock, but for him as a whole… as a man… your man… the one you want to worship and pledge yourself to… it's honestly rather painful to see."
Daphne suddenly stood up, the chair she had been sitting on scraping against the hard floor as it toppled over. "I think you should leave."
"Hit a nerve, did I?" Regina asked with a wicked grin as she straightened on the desk so that she was sitting upright. "You've not denied my words even once, Greengrass, and even if you did, I wouldn't have believed it. You know what I see in front of me? What I think when I look at you? You are nothing but an insecure little girl playing at being a woman, too scared to go after the man she really wants."
"Get out!" Daphne snarled, her hand inching toward her wand resting innocuously on the desk.
Regina held up her hands in mock surrender as she slid off the desk, an unapologetic grin plastered on her face. "All right, all right. No need to throw a tantrum like a silly little girl. I'm going… but Greengrass, think about what I said, yeah? Life's too short for regrets… especially when the prize if so… tempting. You might not get to enjoy it all by yourself, but getting a taste is still better than nothing, right?"
Daphne watched, glaring heatedly, as Regina sauntered over to the door, where she paused at the threshold and glanced back at her over her shoulder with the same infuriating smirk that she was getting tempted to wipe off her stupid face.
"Oh, and Greengrass? You might wanna make a move soon if you really want him. You never know when he gets tired of waiting, that is assuming he is, and decides to look for greener pastures. He's not gonna find it challenging at all, that much I can guarantee you."
With a parting wink, Regina slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving a seething Daphne alone with nothing but her tumultuous thoughts and Regina's words that echoed in her mind.
The blonde stood there for a long moment; her hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides. Finally, she sank back into her chair, her carefully constructed mask of indifference crumbling as she buried her head in her hands, her fingertips pressing into her scalp, massaging firmly. All she could hear was the ringing in her ears that kept growing louder, sounding awfully like Regina's mocking voice that kept repeating the same words as if on a loop.
-Break-
The Slytherin Common Room was a hive of hushed activity as Daphne Greengrass walked in after an exhausting afternoon. Her emotions had been in overdrive since that encounter with Parkinson and her mood was not helped in the slightest when she spotted a certain group that emerged from the alcove that led to their dormitories.
Malfoy was flanked, as usual, by his sycophants, and joining them were a few older years including the troll, Marcus Flint. She waited for more to emerge from the alcove, frowning when she saw no sign of her informant.
The group slowly made its way over to the fireplace as she reached the alcove, and her hand casually wrapped around her wand. As she passed them, she whispered an inaudible incantation, her wand moving in a subtle flick. A faint shimmer passed over Crabbe's ear, not that anyone noticed anything.
Keeping an air of casual indifference about herself, Daphne walked over and settled into a high-backed armchair near the staircase. She pulled out a copy of "Advanced Runic Translation," opening it to a random page to feign studying. In reality, her entire attention was focused on the conversation she could now hear owing to the listening charm she had cast on Troll #1.
"… and that's not even the best part," she heard Malfoy say, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Father says the Ministry fools think they're being so clever, so secretive about it all."
Marcus Flint leaned in, his voice gruff with interest. "Go on then, Malfoy. What's this big secret you've been bragging all day about?"
Malfoy's grin widened, the lad clearly enjoying being the center of attention. "Well, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," he shot a glare at Goyle who stared back at him dumbly. "Father pulled some strings with the Minister to make sure the First Task will be something… special."
"Special how?" One of the older boys with them asked, his eyes narrowing.
Malfoy paused for dramatic effect, his eyes shifting around the circle to make sure he had everyone's undivided attention. "Dragons," he finally said, grinning. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Proper, fully-grown, fire-breathing monsters. All ready for our entertainment."
There was a collective intake of breath from the group as Daphne's eyes widened, although she kept her face carefully hidden behind the book.
"Blimey!" Higgs muttered, his beady eyes wide in a mixture of disbelief and fear. "Dragons? You're having us on, right?"
Malfoy scoffed, leaning back to rest his hands on the couch and smirking when Pansy leaned up comfortably against him. "Of course I'm not 'having you on,' you knobhead. When have I ever lied about information from my father?"
"But… but how? I mean, dragons are bloody dangerous, even for the tournament!"
"That's the point, isn't it?" Malfoy sneered. "Father has connections in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He made sure they'd choose the most vicious breeds for the task. Hungarian Horntails, Ukrainian Ironbellys - the kinds that eat people like you for breakfast, Crabbe."
The group chuckled darkly, although Flint looked skeptical. "You sure we need to rough Potter up if he's gonna face a beast like that?"
"That's the fun, innit?" Malfoy's voice lowered, and Daphne had to strain to hear through the charm. "Rough him up enough that he pisses himself at the mere sight of the dragon. Imagine the sight – the great Harry Potter, the Cunt Who Lived, reduced to a fucking crying mess, pissing himself in front of the whole world. I have half a mind to somehow let him know about it before the task itself, just to see how terrified he would look at the thought of facing a dragon. I doubt he'd even be able to sleep."
"Now that's a fuckin' idea," Flint replied, smirking. "With Potter terrified, the badges would be a right kick in the nuts."
"Ah yes, the badges," Malfoy sneered. "Get ready to hand those out tomorrow morning. I've got the master and I'll keep changing the insults, make sure Potter feels it right in the heart, you know? How'd you think he'll like the one about his mudblood Mum?"
The group broke into cruel laughter at that, already imagining Harry's humiliation, and Daphne glared at the pages with gritted teeth, her knuckles white from how hard she was gripping the book.
Her mind was racing. The First Task involved dragons, and if Malfoy was to be believed, those would be of the most vicious breeds. Additionally, they still intended to go ahead with both their vile plans – one of which she knew she could act on, the beginnings of a plan already forming in her mind.
She stood smoothly, canceling the listening charm with a discreet flick of her wand when the group's conversation dissolved into discussions about betting pools and how they could take advantage of their knowledge to make some quick gold. As she climbed the stairs to her dormitory, her mind was hard at work as she developed the plan she had come up with. Less than two weeks remained until the First Task, and they had a lot to do to prepare against dragons.
-Break-
"Ah yeah… fuck me… oh fuck me!"
Harry tightened his grasp on Regina's supple rear, his fingers sinking into her soft flesh as he bounced her on his lap. The brunette had her arms wrapped around his neck, pushing her large, round tits into his firm chest as she rocked on top of him. She hugged herself tightly to him, keeping her eyes to the side where Harry saw Daphne staring heatedly at her.
There had been an air of tension between the two girls when they had arrived in the room. He had no idea what had brought it about but he had not missed the smirks Regina had been giving the other girl who, although did not react overtly, still exhibited certain traits that he had come to recognize by now.
Daphne was pissed at the older girl for some reason, and if he was being honest with himself, he did not want to put himself in the middle of what looked like a catfight.
Instead, he devoted himself to enjoying the feeling of the supple arse cheeks beneath his palms as he squeezed and fondled them to his heart's content, loving how that perfect pussy hugged his length. He drilled into her powerfully, the desk under them rocking even after he had cast a charm to keep it sturdy. Regina was bouncing her ass forcefully, plunging her gushing quim deeper onto his prick as she kissed him heatedly before she slowly pulled back.
Harry gazed up at her to find her giving him a lecherous grin before she rose on his lap. Grabbing his arms, she pulled them off her arse and guided his palms to her tits. Harry was all too eager to latch on to those twin globes, squeezing them gently.
"Play with my tits, Harry," she whispered and began to bounce on top of him. "Oh fuck… oh this feels good…"
She began to pick up the speed, riding him exuberantly. She made sure he drilled furiously into her, her large, perky tits jiggling and bouncing in his grasp as she fucked herself on his cock.
"You like this sight, Greengrass?" She called out, moaning when he began to tease her hard nubs with his thumbs, brushing and flicking them eagerly. Harry shifted his gaze from her ecstatic face to Daphne who sat at her desk, her hands clenched firmly, a broken quill in her grasp, as she kept her eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of her, her expression stoic and giving nothing away.
Regina smirked as she gazed at the girl before she suddenly let out a high-pitched whine as she shook on top of Harry. Her fingernails dug into his skin as she let out a quivering moan, her hips bucking and shaking erratically. Harry grunted as he felt her inner walls tighten around his girth and with a loud gasp, she came on top of him.
A breathless laugh escaped the brunette as she collapsed on top of Harry who wrapped his arms tightly around her, planting his feet on the desk as he began to mercilessly thrust upward inside her, fucking her through her orgasm. Her face, set in a delirious grin, was turned toward Daphne as she kept grinning at the girl in sheer jubilation, moaning and laughing wickedly as he kept fucking her.
For her part, Daphne merely stared at the sight of Harry fucking Regina with a poker face, her expression giving no hint of her true thoughts. Although her body language was another matter. She was tense, unbelievably so, and the broken quill slowly remained clutched in her grasp as she stared ahead into the smug and teasing eyes of the brunette who she truly wanted to strangle right now.
As if intent on adding to her ire, Regina wrapped her arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him into a needy kiss, moaning lewdly into his mouth as her body rocked from his powerful thrusts. She could hear the wet sounds of his cock splashing through her release as he fucked her gushing pussy without any restraint. Her large tits were firmly pushed against his sweaty chest once again, her engorged nipples pressing against his skin, sending rivulets of pleasure straight into her core.
"In me, Harry," she whispered in his ear as she pulled her lips off his. "Give me all of it!"
Harry felt his orgasm approaching and began to plow into her with hard and fast thrusts, making Regina squeal and laugh deliriously as she was manhandled on top of him. Her body shook and quivered as he used her, his arms clutching her to himself as he hammered away with rapid slams, their wet skins slapping together. Regina kept gasping and moaning into his ear, laughing and squealing in tandem, and the sensation of her tight pussy squeezing his length made him tumble over the edge.
Daphne's breathing had been labored for a while now, and it grew even more erratic when she heard him groan out loud, knowing what it meant by now. Her eyes remained trained on his cock that slid in and out of Regina and she felt she could see how his balls swelled and his cock pulsed as he filled Regina's core with his hot, potent cum.
She was surprised, however, when Regina let out another loud wail and buried her face in the crook of Harry's neck as she started shivering once again, and her eyes widened when she realized that she just had another orgasm.
The brunette moaned and gasped, breathing erratically, as her body trembled in Harry's grasp.
Nothing but their heavy breathing was heard in the room for the following minutes as they came down from their orgasmic highs. Daphne remained quiet, her Occlumency working to keep her emotions in check as her breathing steadied. Her eyes, however, were fixated on the sight of the two lovers in front of her, naked and all sweaty, as they kissed each other. That sight made her eyes soften, and finally, she let the broken quill fall from her grasp, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip gently.
Regina's words from before echoed in her mind once again, and Daphne shut her eyes, breathing heavily.
Moments later, Regina slowly pulled away from the kiss and rested her head on Harry's chest, breathing in contentment, and a smirk lit up her face as she gazed at Daphne.
Soon. Very soon. She had no doubts about it.
TBC.
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