Lord of Bones

June 1997

Harry sighed wistfully as he walked along the corridors of his family’s ancestral home. When he’d assumed the mantle of Lord Potter shortly after his sixteenth birthday, he’d been informed of the location of his ancestral estate — and it was a godsend. The books and artifacts in the estate’s library, while not as varied as Slytherin’s collection, were still beyond what most private collections had to offer.

Contrary to what some may have thought, he hadn’t spent all his nights in the Chamber. Some days had him alternate between Godric’s Hallow, Grimmauld Place and the estate, rescuing his parents’ belongings (still under protective magic) and the Black heirlooms, preserving them in his Manor’s walls. He had placed his parents’ personal notes on spellcasting in the library, where they belonged, while the house-imps arranged the Black relics.

Despite this, the Manor was quiet. The solitude was welcoming.

But it wouldn’t be for long. Dumbledore had requested that he allow his Manor to be used as a safehouse; where the Weasleys and the Grangers could retreat to. The desperation in the old mage’s voice was so surprising that he had relented.

This would put him in close contact with the Weasleys for the next two months, starting in about two hours from now.

Bugger.

There was also the issue of the Grangers to consider. While the senior Grangers’ reaction to him and his home was something to consider, there was also the issue of Hermione.

After he had learned to ignore the way her absence affected him last year quite well, her sudden reappearance in his life had been met with feelings of betrayal, hurt and anger, especially after she had intruded on his privacy and witnessed his transformation into the dragon.

And then…

She’d bound herself to him as penance (that was the only thing he could call it), sworn to help him and never betray him or his secrets. Much to his surprise, Hermione had remained loyal to her oath; never questioning him and always ensuring that she was there for him. It had taken a lot of time and patience, but he eventually got used to the idea of having a partner.

He had his doubts, of course, but she had remained faithful to him, despite the exams and coursework. This loyalty to him had been cemented when she stayed and helped him with the more esoteric magic, comforting him when the nightmares raged in his mind, nursing him back to health when a spell or ritual backfired; all without complaint. He had (with some worry) noticed that her grades had not improved, but he had yet to confront her about that.

There were times when, while looking at Hermione helping him, he wanted to forgive her and confess how much he cared for her. There were times when he wanted her to leave, because the wounds were still fresh.

There were times when the dragon raged through him, demanding that she submit, taunting him to take her, to claim her…

But he stayed firm.

Shaking out of the memories, Harry continued on his walk. He had an army of unwanted guests to prepare for.

Hermione’s eyes widened as she took in the opulence of Potter Manor, from the well-kept gardens to the elegant and ancient building itself. When she, her parents and the Weasleys were sent to the man hall of the keep via portkey, the simple elegance of the decor took her breath away. A flame burning in the hearth, comfortable seats, a book-rack and the large window made it look like the perfect retreat, as opposed to being the ancestral estate of nobility.

Harry had been there, calmly greeting them, informing them where they were going to sleep and more-or-less introducing them to the facilities there before warning them not to enter one of the chambers. She had noticed the twins smile mischievously at that and fervently hoped that they listened to him.

She had to admit, Mrs. Weasley being quelled with a glance before she started to rant was rather funny. Ron’s glances at her had her uncomfortable, while Ginny’s hungry glances at the manor and (her! Her mind screamed at her, despite her best efforts) Harry.

After setting down her bags, she noticed her friend (former, she thought sadly) leave the house and followed him. Hermione still cringed at the way she treated Harry for nine months, and the trials it took to convince him that she still cared and trusted him. She would not fail him again.

Never again.

But for now, she’d have to find Harry.

Brushing past a few branches and trimmed hedges, she finally found him sitting by a lake, his eyes closed in relaxation. For an instant, she was struck by how carefree he looked, as though the weight of the world was not on his shoulders.

Hi Harry, she whispered softly.

Hello Hermione, he replied in his usual tone, albeit with a hint of warmth. Hermione smiled hesitantly. May I?

Go ahead, he said, his eyes still closed. Quietly, she sank to her knees, leaning next to the tree Harry was under.

For moments, there was silence.

And then a scream. Hermione stood up, startled.

Harry swore, leapt up and dashed back to the Manor, Hermione hot on his heels.

Lord of Bones

This is not affiliated with the H/Hr/Daphne threesome fic I posted earlier.

The thick flannel nightgown made no noise against the floor as its owner discreetly entered the room, taking great pains to muffle her footsteps. Ginny Weasley hid in the shadows of the room, already planning her next move while reminiscing about the circumstances that brought her here.

Potter Manor had become the Order’s bastion against Lord Voldemort’s darkness, following the sacking of Grimmauld Place. Harry had only reluctantly allowed Dumbledore to use his ancestral home, finally allowing the families of the Order’s members to gain sanctuary behind its vast walls. The Weasleys, the Tonks and the Greengrasses had immediately moved in, despite Ron’s protests about charity. Hermione had also brought her family in, protecting them from Voldemort’s terrifying wrath.

The vast complex was a welcome break from the war, and a place where Ginny had decided would be perfect to convince Harry that she was the only one for him. Now was the perfect chance to do — in Harry’s own room with her most revealing nightclothes on, no less. She grinned at the thought.

The door opened. Hermione and Harry walked in, the former in a night-robe and the latter in a dark muscle-shirt and faded jeans. Ginny wouldn’t have had a problem with that, except for the fact that Harry was kissing Hermione savagely, his hand tangled in brown tresses while the other hand squeezed and groped her arse. Finally, Harry broke the kiss, burning green eyes on the flushed witch in front of him.

Ginny thought it was impossible, that Harry would be snogging Hermione ‘bookworm’ Granger.

Tease! he growled, startling Ginny. Hermione smiled innocently. What do you mean, Harry? she asked sweetly. Harry bared his teeth in a primal snarl. You know damn well what I mean! First you in that damn T-shirt-shorts combination and then Daphne in that fucking bikini! Do you know how fucking hard it was not to tear off your clothes and fuck you senseless?! hehissed. 

Ginny thought back to the day’s earlier events. The swimming pool (built by James Potter for Lily) had been where she intended to flaunt herself to Harry to get him interested, with the aid of a Muggle swimsuit she’d obtained from her mother. While Harry had not paid much attention to her, that all changed when Daphne Greengrass sauntered in dressed in a scandalous black swimsuit, revealing a shocking amount of creamy curves (Ginny would later learn that the two-piece was called a bikini and was the latest Muggle swimming costume). Harry’s gaze had followed the dark-haired Slytherin’s movements intensely, and for a moment, Ginny could have sworn his eyes were glowing and that his hands were crushing edge of the pool when Greengrass stretched before diving into the pool. He’d excused himself after that, but Ginny noticed the Slytherin’s pleased look.

Ginny was jolted back to the present when a startled ‘eep!’ sounded in the room. Harry had pulled away Hermione’s modest nightrobe forcefully, revealing an extremely immodest mid-thigh length white nightgown that clung to Hermione’s lush yet toned body like a second skin. Hermione smiled seductively. Like it? she purred. It’ll look better on the floor! hissed Harry in reply, yanking her back for another bruising kiss.

Starting without me? purred another feminine voice. Daphne Greengrass swept in, dressed in a black version of Hermione’s attire, closing the door behind her.  Hey, stud, she whispered into Harry’s ear, pressing her lush curves into his back. Harry broke the kiss with Hermione, turning back to nip at the Slytherin beauty’s lips before kissing her as Hermione trailed gentle kisses along her lover’s jawline, making her way down his body. Daphne joined her, forcing Harry to sit down on the edge of the large bed. He tugged off his shirt, revealing a corded, leanly muscled frame.

Ginny watched in disbelief, her mouth watering at the sight.

Two pairs of insistent hands tugged Harry’s jeans and boxers down. Three pairs of eyes widened at the massive erection they were presented with. That’s a serious case of blue balls, noted Daphne guiltily, her eyes fixed onthe almost-angrily throbbing shaft and the purple cockhead. Sorry Harry, whispered Hermione, pressing a kiss to Harry’s palm.

Ginny licked her lips and watched wide-eyed. There was no way that was going to fit in her! She also didn’t understand why they were kneeling; wasn’t sex supposed to occur with the joining of a penis and a vagina?

Daphne placed a kiss on the tip of Harry’s cock, before taking it in her mouth. Ginny watched wide-eyed — no-one said anything about that! It looked icky, but Harry and Daphne seemed to be enjoying it… 

Hermione laved the exposed length of Harry’s cock with her tongue, stimulating the parts which Daphne was unable to take in. The Slytherin sex-goddess bobbed her head along her lover’s length, aided by her Gryffindor counterpart’s licking. Share! demanded Hermione, pulling away. Reluctantly, Daphne released her lover’s manhood, allowing Hermione to take over. The Gryffindor vixen sucked gently on the tip, lapping up Harry’s precum. Harry stroked his lovers’ heads, watching them through half-lidded eyes.

Ginny saw him tense. Fuck! he hissed. Coming!

His hips thrust twice into Hermione’s eager mouth, releasing two powerful bursts of cum. Daphne pulled her away, drawing Harry’s dick back into her mouth. Hermione swallowed her treat contentedly, watching her counterpart eagerly swallow Harry’s release before pulling away from his still erectmanhood. You taste good, stud, Daphne murmured.

Ginny stood still in the darkness, trying to assimilate what she had just seen. Daphne and Hermione just licked and sucked Harry’s penis until he orgasmed and then swallowed the stuff. Wasn’t that dirty? Harry and the… harlots seemed to be enjoying it though… 

Harry seated his lovers on each of his legs, trading kisses and gentle bites with them. He tugged down their nightgowns, baring their full, firm breasts to his gaze. He suckled Daphne’s breast, laving the hard pink nipple with his tongue while kneading Hermione’s gently. He alternated between the girls, encouraged by their moans and whimpers. Finally, Hermione tugged her lover’s head from her chest (drawing a groan of protest from Harry) and pushed him onto the bed. Harry lay down on the bed, content to let his lovers lead.

Daphne straddled his face, exposing her dripping nether lips to his hungry gaze. Behind her, Hermione straddled him, sinking inch by inch onto his cock. Harry nuzzled Daphne’s trimmed curls, drinking in his Slytherin partner’s scent before giving the full length of her pussy a long, languid lick. Daphne mewled, feeling her lover grip her arse and push her against his face. Hermione began to grind against Harry, raising herself up and then plunging down again, aided by Harry’s own thrusts. So big! she whimpered. So good!

Ginny felt both rage and arousal. It should be her there, not those scarlet women, she thought bitterly. She didn’t know girls could do that to guys, either! A keening wail from Daphne and a shriek from Hermione told her they had just orgasmed.

Harry steeled himself against the sensation of Hermione’s near-virginally tight pussy around his erection, concentrating on Daphne’s pleasure. She had already come once when he nipped at her clit, but the added sensation of his fingers inside her tight channel was already taking its toll. He looked up, and caught sight of one of his favorite treats.

Daphne and Hermione were kissing wantonly, their breasts pressing against each other’s. Tongues clashed in their mouths, while hands were buried in wavy black tresses and brown curls.

Ginny watched with astonishment — she would never let another girl kiss her like that! But then, why was she drooling?

Daphne broke the kiss with a harsh cry. Harry! she wailed, the sensationof his tongue and lips sucking and prodding at her too much to bear. He hungrily drank Daphne’s release, riding out her orgasm with her. Daphne finally slumped off, sliding to his right. The exhausted and satisfied beauty kissed her lover tenderly, tasting herself on him. She snuggled against him, using his shoulder as a pillow.

Hermione’s shrill shriek heralded her orgasm, and this time Harry didn’t try to fight it. Every thrust sent a potent burst of white-hot seed into Hermione’s eager body, her cries of Oh, Harry! echoing in the room. Finally, Hermione slipped off her lover, drawing the blanket over them. She cuddled up to Harry’s left, nipping his shoulder and neck gently. Harry nuzzled Hermione’s curls while stroking Daphne’s side.

Ginny had enough. She’d have to find a way to prove that she was better than these tarts to Harry, but for now, she’d return to her room and use the wand-vibration charm. She quickly slipped out of the room.

Stud? murmured Daphne sleepily.

Hmn?

You knew the Weaselette was here. she said, looking inquiringly into her lover’s green eyes. Yeah. he replied.

Any reason why you didn’t throw her out? asked Hermione, tracing patterns on Harry’s hard chest.

He shrugged slightly. She needed to realize that I’m already in love; that you are mine and I’m yours.

Daphne smiled gently, kissing Harry’s cheek. G’night love, she murmured, eyelids falling over ice-blue orbs. Across Harry’s frame, Hermione nuzzled into Harry’s neck. Love you, baby. she mewled before slipping into slumber.

Harry stroked their hair lovingly, gently pulling them closer to him before finally slipping off into slumber himself.

Lord of Bones

Hermione squeaked with shock when a pair of arms looped around her waist and pulled her back against a hard chest. You smell good, murmured the young man, his face buried in her curly brown hair. Harry! she chided gently.

Harry pulled back from her, making his way down to Hermione’s graceful neck. He nuzzled her cheek, before pressing kisses along her neck, alternating with soft nips. Harry tugged aside her school jumper, gently biting down on the junction of her neck and shoulder. Hermione mewled. Oh Harry, we-we can’t do this he-heeereeee! she squeaked, feeling her paramour’s insistent hands wander upwards.

Harry massaged her breasts through her clothes, feeling her nipples harden through the layers of cloth. He smirked against her neck, feeling Hermione thrust her chest against his hands. You like that, don’t you love? he muttered against her neck. A moan was his answer.

Harry dismissed her jumper with a burst of magic. Harry… 

You weren’t complaining when I did that to your knickers last night, he murmured, his thumbs massaging her nipples. Harry smiled. No bra?

Hermione’s heated blush, one that he could feel, was his answer. He spun her around, frantically unbuttoning her blouse while crushing her mouth to his. Their lips hungrily tried to devour the other, while Hermione ground her hips against Harry’s. He broke the kiss, proudly noticing the glazed look in her eyes.

He bent his frame slightly, lightly blowing on an exposed pink nipple. She whimpered. Harry kissed her nipple before taking it into his mouth, his other hand occupying itself by playing with her neglected left breast. He was enjoying the taste and texture of her full breasts, tugging on her nipples with teeth and fingers. Hermione cradled his head to her chest, stroking his hair lovingly while panting softly.

Eventually, Harry pulled away, pausing only to kiss her nipples and her neck before nuzzling her neck. His fingers rubbed the front portion of her skirt, drawing a breathless cry. Sexy little minx! he hissed into her ear. Hermione smiled. Room of Requirement. Now, Harry.

Lead the way, minx.

And so she did. Hermione was surprised that she could even walk there, given that Harry had his fingers work their magic under her knickers. She opened the door and staggered in, Harry directly behind her.

A moan interrupted their antics. They looked up… and nearly fainted from shock.

Is that us? whispered Hermione, watching the two gyrating bodies wide-eyed. Harry shook himself out of his shocked stupor. That’s not you, love. It looks a lot like you, though.

Wha—

Harry cupped her breasts. You’ve got a larger and fuller chest. His thumbs stroked her nipples. You’ve got deliciously pink nipples. Hers are dark. Harry looked up, noticing her face. Plus you scream like a banshee when we’re in bed. She’s a moaner.

Harry James Potter! I do not scream! she hissed indignantly. A chuckle was her answer.

Love, you nearly deafen me when you come. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. She blushed. Besides, he continued on, that bloke looks a lot like me.

No, she said after a few minutes of watching. You tend to vocalize a lot when we make love. He’s just remaining silent. Her hand cupped the bulge in his jeans, drawing a hissing growl. See? And besides, you’ve got a much bigger cock. She looked at him lavisciously, her hand gently stroking him.

A cry came from the entwined couple. Harry! Hermione!

And more stamina, too. muttered Hermione.

Then, the post-rut couple began to morph. Black and brown turned red, freckles appeared on once blemishless skin. The watchers’ eyes bulged open in shock.

RON?! GINNY?!

AN: It was slightly botched polyjuice, which accounts for the differences noted.

Seel’vor

Harry came out of the bathroom, clad in a terry bathrobe, brushing his teeth. He looked over, noting the naked Hermione still sat on his bed.

Why are you still here? He mumbled around his toothbrush.

She looked up at him sadly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. You’re right, Harry. I need to talk. I need to explain… and I would like it if you could listen.

Well, that’s a better start, at least. Not demanding that I listen, but requesting it. Still, not gonna make much bloody difference. Talk. Fast.

Thank you. She replied gratefully, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.

I said ‘fast’, Hermione.

Right, right. Er… well, I want to talk about what happened last year.

You found out that Ron had a penis. Harry added smoothly. You discovered that you like having said penis in your mouth. Ron discovered that he liked having said penis in your mouth. You both decided that it wasn’t any of my damned business, and started to ignore me. Nine months later, you find Ron fucking Lavender, and come running to me. He pulled out his toothbrush. That about sum it up?

Hermione slumped slightly. I-I suppose… from a certain point of view.

Shaking his head sadly. True of false, Hermione. True or false.

She glanced up at him sharply. You’ve been studying Necromancy. That makes you dark and evil.

He conceded her point. From a certain point of view. He nodded slightly. Although she wasn’t in his ‘trusted best friend’ capacity, she was still bloody sharp, even though her grades were slipping. So, go on, then; regale me with the riveting tale of how you like playing ‘hide the wiener’ with Ron’s cocktail sausage, and how I shouldn’t be told of the change in dynamics of the ‘Golden Trio’. Tell me why I got happily side-lined from the Quidditch team because Ronnie wanted to shine for you. Tell me why my best friend decided sucking dick was preferable to talking. Tell me why I should trust you, since it’s plain you don’t trust me, and haven’t trusted me for months.

When put like that, Hermione nearly collapsed. I… I don’t know, Harry.

Sooner of later… the day comes when you can’t hide from the things you’ve done. And sometimes, neglect and indifference can do more damage than outright dislike. Both maxims that apply very well to our situation.

I… I know, Harry, believe me, I know. I feel terrible about this. I want to make it up to you.

I don’t know if it can be made up. Harry replied, his emotions tightly reined in. At the moment, I don’t trust you. You didn’t trust me. And then, to compound that, you followed me to my place of solitude, of privacy, and interfered in something that had nothing to do with you.

I’m… I’m sorry, Harry. Hermione sobbed.

And you don’t want to make it up to me ‘cause I feel bad. You want to make it up with me so you feel better. You want to absolve yourself of the guilt that you feel by throwing me a bone of interest here and there, nosing about my private affairs.

No, not like that. She sniffed. I do feel bloody dreadful, true, but that’s not why I’m doing this. I know that I’ve been losing your friendship, and that it’s entirely my own fault.

Yes. Harry replied mercilessly. Yes, it is.

I owe you, Harry, more than I can say. Because of you, I’m still alive.

He pondered for a moment. Yeah, that’s true.

I offer myself to you, as a vassal to her lord. I offer my wand, my service, and if need be, my life.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as he felt his wounds prickle. What she was offering was a heavy gift. He would be her liege-lord, effectively her master. Okay… pros and cons… Pro, she’s sharp as a tack. Having that fine mind on my side would be beneficial. Con, I’d have to tell her what I’ve been doing, and that requires trust that simply isn’t there. Pro, it would annoy Ron. Con… there’s no con in annoying Ron.

Hermione, I’ll tell you what I’m prepared to do…

spd3432us

Harry, I’m not certain you’re ready to hear everything but I’ll explain as much as I can. I’ve held off since you asked me at the end of your first year so you’d have a chance to continue your childhood until you were no longer able to do so. This is also the cause of most of the arguments that took place this past summer between Molly and Sirius.

Headmaster, did you not hear my daughter? The unfortunate circumstances under which that moronic headmaster forced me to be raised… Any guesses as to who was the moronic headmaster that both my wife, err Hermione, and my daughter were referring to? Dobby!

Master Harry Potter sir calls for his Dobby. Dobby is so pleased to be ables to help Master Harry Potter sir.

Dobby, in my trunk are two copies of my Hogwarts letter. Please get them for me.

Dobby will get them. pop … pop Here are yours letters.

Thank you Dobby. That will be all. No wait. Go check the guest quarters and see that my children have everything they need to get settled in for the night.

How many childrens does Master Harry Potter sir have?

Five children Dobby. Two boys and three girls.

Master Harry Potter must be even more great and powerful than Dobby believed if he has five childrens and not even being 16 yet. How many witches does Master Harry Potter sir have as wives?

Ummm… it appears to be four Dobby.

That is a good number but where wills you be staying? Yous can’t take the childrens to nasty Dursleys house. It’s not big enough and they be like old master. Oh Dobby must punish himself for talking about old master.

Dobby — no punishing yourself. Go see to the children and make sure the witches have anything they need to be comfortable. Oh, and tell them no fighting.

Yes Master Harry Potter sir. pop

 

Headmaster. This letter is the one that Hagrid hand delivered to me. You can see it’s addressed to Harry Potter, hut on the rock. Uncle Vernon took us out in a storm to some coastal island trying to hide from the mail owls. This is one of the original letters. I found it when I got back to Privet Drive after Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley. It’s addressed to Harry Potter, the cupboard under the stairs. That damn cupboard, meant for cleaning supplies, was my bedroom for 10 years. I got to move to Dudley’s toyroom just before my first year. The Weasley boys had to pull bars off the window in order to break me out to take me to the Burrow. I was locked into my room, fed through a cat flap, with my trunk, books, wand, and supplies locked up downstairs.

I never had a childhood. Those people you sent me to saw to that. For as long as I can remember my life consisted of chores and punishments — beatings and being locked in my cupboard for days on end with no food or water.

I’m not going back there and I’m certainly not subjecting my children to that type of life. So tell me what you know that you’re trying to keep from me so we can plan around it then find a place for my children and I.

And what about the witches?

What about them? If they want to move into wherever we decide and their parents have no objection, I’m okay with it, but I will not abandon my children!

Minerva, do you want to stay for this?

Yes, Albus. Fifteen years ago I told you they were the worst sort of muggles and not to leave Harry there. It sounds like I was right so I want, no NEED to know what you’ve been hiding all this time that required him to be there.

Sighing, Dumbledore pulled his pensieve out of the cabinet and showed them the prophecy.

Harry spoke up afterwards And a copy of this prophecy is kept in the ministry down some corridor? This is the dream I’ve been seeing all year?

Yes. I believe that’s Voldemort trying to implant a vision so you’ll get curious and investigate since you and he are the only ones that can remove the prophecy sphere from the shelf.

So we need to either remove that sphere or ward it so the entire Ministry goes into outbound lockdown with all aurors being alerted to come in for battle if it’s moved. And you need to get the Order off guard duty for it. They aren’t safe if He shows up.

I’ll put some wards on it Friday when I have to go in for a meeting with the Minister.

Closer to hand, we need to get rid of Umbridge. I don’t want her around my children and I’m not going to do anymore detentions with her. Writing I Will Not Tell Lies with a blood quill is getting rather boring.

McGonagall grabbed his hand Just you?

No. I know Lee Jordan and Mandy Brocklehurst have both had to use that quill. I would guess its everyone who’s had detention with her.

All right Harry. I’ll take care of Madam Umbridge in the morning. Meantime, I think you need to see to your children and their mothers. Tippy!

Yes Headmaster?

Please escort Mister Potter to the guest wing where you took his children earlier.

Please to come with Tippy Master Harry Potter sir. Dobby be saying youse is a great and powerful wizard to have five childrens already…

As Harry followed the house elf out of the office, Dumbledore seemed to age 20 years in front of McGonagall’s eyes. I did what I thought was best for him, Minerva. I just don’t understand how his aunt could have treated him that way.

Lily always said that Petunia was jealous of her and blamed her for their parents deaths. Jealousy and rage will most certainly pass from one generation to the next. Just look at the way Severus treats any student not in Slytherin and particularly Harry. He does not seem to be able to understand that not only is Harry not James but that he never really got a chance to know James either. I think that after you deal with Delores you better deal with Severus. I’ll not have him pushing his hatred onto a third generation of Potters either. And if you don’t think Harry will take action if he raises his hand, wand, or voice at those children you’ve got another think coming.

But, do you have any ideas where they will be able to live? It’s only a few weeks until Christmas holidays. Grimmauld is not a good place for children and if we don’t find a way to return those children back to their own time and place then Harry and those witches will need to provide a happy Christmas for them.

I’ll get in contact with the goblins and see if there are any Potter properties that can be warded and opened. I’ll also check with Sirius and see if the Black’s have anything. But that may require him to turn himself in for the trial he never received.

Amelia may have some ideas on how to do that. And she’ll certainly be involved since Susan is one of the mothers.

Yes, you’re right. It’s getting late and there’s a lot to do tomorrow. Good night Minerva.

Good night Albus.

Lord of Bones

Harry stretched and yawned sleepily, burying himself back into the warmth of his bed and bedmate even as the sleep left his eyes. He nuzzled his stirring wife’s neck lovingly, trailing soft kisses from the nape of her neck to the curve of her shoulder, pulling aside her brown curls. His hand skimmed across her sleek flanks, tracing the curve of her hip and the curve of her sides through the white cloth of her nightgown.

A warm, calloused hand cupped a firm breast, massaging the pink peak of the ample orb with the pad of its thumb. His wife mewled, thrusting her chest into his hand as the sensations jolted her awake. Harry grinned into her shoulder, pressing a biting kiss on the junction of her neck and shoulder. Lazily, he began to thrust his tented boxers against her clothed arse.

Good morning, Hermione. There’s no need to leave so early. We’ve got a night’s worth of lovemaking to catch up on, he whispered into the shell of her ear.

We can’t, love, murmured Hermione sleepily, her eyes still closed while reluctantly pulling away (but not before giving her husband’s clothed erection a teasing squeeze). The children are here.

No, they aren’t.

Hermione’s eyes opened, surprise shining through. She remembered their twins crawling into bed last night, spooked by the raging storm. She hid a smile, remembering a sleeping Harry unconsciously pulling Catherine and Adrian to him, sheltering them with his arm. She had dozed off to the sight of the three most important people in her life contentedly sleeping beside her.

The Potter matriarch felt her husband’s hands rove over her lush body again, as she stretched her mind over the Manor’s wards to check up on her children.

She froze suddenly, realizing she couldn’t sense her children.

Oh, God…  she whispered, terror in her voice. Harry stopped his ministrations, watching his wife with concern. Love?

Where are they, Harry?! she asked hysterically. Where are my babies?!

Harry’s eyes widened. The patriarch leapt out of his bed, frantically running out the door and screaming out his children’s names. Adrian! Catherine! he screamed, tearing open the rooms of the mansion like a man possessed.

Hermione felt a part of herself wither as her husband’s yells tapered off and he returned to their bedroom, fear on his face.

They’re gone…  he whispered brokenly, tears running down his face even as Hermione broke down.

Kinsfire

Continuation, Kinsfire style
Hmm, the thought that comes to mind is continuing this with the next day…
(Note that I’m writing this idea on the fly, so there’s no telling if it works well with the rest of it)

Harry awoke to find himself warm, which was a bit unusual. He realized that he was being held so he turned to see who had found him out.

Hermione.

He didn’t know how to react. Part of him was angry that she’d followed him, part was horrified that she’d found his secret, and part was glad to see that she still had some sort of feelings for him, if she was willing to hold him.

His musings were broken as she started to wake up. He did nothing while she put soul back into body. He knew the moment that it was complete, because she stiffened and sat up suddenly. She opened her mouth to speak, and then stopped.

No, she said.

Excuse me?

I’m sorry, I was answering myself. I was going to go into this long speech about what happened and how I needed to talk to you and all the rest of that crap. The truth is that you don’t trust me, and you’re right not to. I abandoned you. I’m pleased that you were successful last night, and you’ll need to fix those wounds, but I’m not going to try to force you to forgive me. As if that sort of thing CAN be forced.

She shook her head, and Harry saw tears flying. I made my bed, and now I’ll lay in it. I screwed up and lost my best friend.

He took a long moment to look at her, making her uncomfortable. The old friendship was based on neediness. We’re all past that now, I think. That friendship can never be again.

He held out a hand. Hi, I’m Harry Potter. Perhaps we can get to know each other?

She looked astonished. You’re forgiving me?

No.

I don’t understand, she said with a look of extreme confusion on her face.

The Hermione that abandoned me nine months ago would have demanded a chance to apologise and been offended when I said no. I won’t be friends with that Hermione. I’ll be getting to know the Hermione that thought about the ramifications of her actions. I don’t know that Hermione, but I think I’d like to know her.

She smiled a little weakly and held out her hand, taking his still extended hand. Hermione Granger. I look forward to meeting the new Harry Potter. New to me, at least.

As I say, that was off the top of my head and needs to be expanded a lot, but might work as a way to get the two of them together. (Same can be used for the White Knight story too, if you think about it.)

Lord of Bones

With thanks to jemknight2003.

It was not yet dawn.

The dark-haired beauty slipped out quietly from under her husband’s arm, momentarily bemoaning the loss of her heat source. He stirred slightly, prompting her to kiss him chastely before turning to the other woman in the bed that was nestled against her husband. As much as she’d like to sleep in, something needed to be taken care of first.

Her lips curved upwards into a smirk before she left to take her shower. Soon after, clad in an expensive blouse, skirt and robe, she disapparated; the wards bending to their Mistress’s will.

An hour passed.

Then it was daybreak.

The ancestral home of the Potters seemed to glow as the light of the sun struck it, illuminating the great mansion with brilliance. For an instant, the mansion seemed almost divine. The sunlight reached even the master bedroom, demesne of the Lord and Lady of the Manor.

Hermione Granger stirred sleepily against her lover’s hard, nude body, relishing in the warmth that he provided. A large, warm hand stroked the brown curls that fell on her cheek. Hermione tilted her head slightly to brush her lips against his palm, pressing a kiss against it. The hand roamed over her neck and side, finally cupping the curve of her firm arse. The other hand descended to palm her right breast, alternating with gentle squeezes on her nipple.

Hermione mewled, throwing her head back and letting her own hand wander down his chest and hips, gently gripping her lover’s hard, proud cock and stroking it softly. Her reward was a deep, rumbling purr. She smiled triumphantly, feeling the pleasurable soreness between her legs return.

Hermione pressed a kiss on her lover’s chest, nipping at the skin enough to cause a slight mark. His reply was a pleasured hiss. She kissed her way up his chest, nibbling on his neck softly while continuing her teasing of his erection. He began to thrust himself into her hand in response, growling in return.

Eyes still closed, she suckled at his jawline, chuckling at the stubble she found there. He let go of her arse to curl his hand in her hair, tugging her head back and eliciting a surprised yelp from her. He kissed her hungrily, plundering her mouth with his tongue while hers attempted to curl around his. He tugged at her plump lower lip, suckling it into his mouth.

Hermione moaned into his mouth.

He broke the kiss, watching her flushed face and swollen lips predatorily.

Good morning, he whispered.

Hermione opened her eyes, a dreamy look on her face. Good morning, she said in reply, meeting his emerald eyes.

She leaned in for another kiss.

Then reality caught up.

She scrambled away, the events of last night coming to the forefront of her mind.

She had slept with Harry in front of his wife. Dear God, she’d confessed her feelings to him!

While it was the best bout of lovemaking she had experienced, it didn’t change the fact that she had forced Harry — her best friend — into committing adultery with her. She flinched, feeling Harry’s hand on her shoulder.

Hermione? he asked, concern in his voice.

She smiled weakly at him. I’m sorry, Harry, she said in a small voice, trying to keep the tremor out and the tears at bay. I suppose I’ll leave now.

She turned away.

Then she was yanked back.

Ha-Harry? she squeaked, the length of her body crushed against his, feeling his insistent cock throb against her toned stomach. Involuntarily, she began to grind herself against him.

I think you’re trying to run away, Hermione, he hissed, tracing the sides of her body with his hand, finally latching on and squeezing her arse.

Hermione’s hips bucked involuntarily, prompting a whimper from her.

Harry—

What you don’t seem to understand Hermione, is that you gave yourself to me last night, he whispered, cupping her face. With his thick, messy blackhair and mesmerizing green eyes holding her own gaze, he looked less mortal and more… divine. She was transfixed.

And I always keep what’s mine.

The last phrase was a possessive whisper before Harry dropped his head to plunder her mouth again. Hermione broke the kiss regretfully.

What about Daphne?

I don’t recall Daphne complaining last night. In fact, I think she enjoyed it, smirked Harry.

Damn right, purred a sultry voice. Daphne Potter née Greengrass, Lady of the House of Potter and brunette bombshell, sauntered into her bedroom while tugging off her robe, followed by her skirt and blouse. By the time she had reached the side of the bed, she was fully nude. She slipped into the covers, snuggling into her husband’s side.

Still keeping an arm around Hermione, Harry turned to his wife. Hey, he murmured, nuzzling her. Hey yourself, stud, she whispered, slipping her arms around his waist.

Where were you? he asked.

She smiled. The Ministry. I had to get the contract filed.

What contract? Hermione asked; Harry looked as puzzled as she did.

Why, your contract as Harry’s official mistress, Daphne replied. You’ve moved in bag and baggage, with no other roof to call your own, and have had sexual relations with the Lord and the Lady. That constitutes tacit consent to the contract. I think you’ll find your career takes a very satisfactory turn in the near future, now that you have Potter sponsorship.

Sponsorship? Hermione asked faintly, ignoring the voice in her head that was telling her to shut up and shag Harry already.

Daphne looked surprised. Weasley never told you? Typical. A sponsorship is when a Muggle-born is granted ‘allowance’ to rise in the Ministry ranks, typically by a pureblood spouse, family, fiancé or a Lord of a Great House. As Harry’s official mistress, it effectively means you have the equivalent political power as I do, seeing as how I am the wife of a Lord. Your children will be treated as Potters and have equal rights as my own. Of course, given Harry’s status as a Lord of Two Great Houses (three if you count Slytherin), it means you outrank mostly every pureblood wife in Europe, she said, noticing Hermione’s dazed look. And while my title is Lady Potter, just as Harry’s Lord Potter, your title is Mistress Potter.

Harry remained silent.

Dear? Daphne asked worriedly. Don’t you have anything to say?

I’ve got the most beautiful women in Europe in my bed wearing nothing. Wouldn’t actions be more prudent?

Good point, purred Daphne, before pouncing. Hermione joined in.

Harry grinned as two pairs of lips began to suck and kiss.

Grifter74

A quick scene of a task Hermione performed for Harry.

Hermione pulled herself onto the ledge running the length of the sewer, and collapsed with a groan. How did I get myself into this mess? Hermione thought to herself. Oh yeah, I was a stupid, hormonal bint that blew off one friend, while blowing the other. At least, I’m learning some interesting magic running these jobs for Harry.

Hermione then slowly stood up and cast a scourgify on herself, getting rid of most of the gunk that stuck to her form-fitting Ballisk-hide armor, then a lumos. She then opened her messenger bag and pulled out a scroll and rolled it open.

That entrance should be close. Hermione said out loud as she glance back and forth between the scroll and the surrounding area. Blasted vampire has to be difficult. Couldn’t we meet in a pub for once? Hermione grumbled. Ah, how could I’ve missed that. Of course, a hidden door that a vampire uses wouldn’t be visible in normal light. Occulus Vampirus.

With the casting of the spell, Hermione’s vision shifted, and she could make out the outlines of the door. After checking for any alarms and traps, she opened the door and slipped in the hidden room. Marius are you here? Hermione asked.

Of course, Ms. Granger, said Marius in a smooth, soft voice behind Hermione.

Hermione quickly spun drawing her wand and a dagger. Do you always have to do that?

Marius quirked an eyebrow and smiled at Hermione, I have the items your Master has requested, Ms. Granger. Do you have the payment?

One pair of Norwegian Black fangs, a bolt of Chinese silk, and one vial of Re’em blood, as requested. Hermione said as she pulled the items out of her bag, after she sheathed her wand and dagger. One Carthanigan sacrificial dagger, and the dust from the vampire that wielded it in life. Marius said as he handed the weapon and a vial over. As Hermione took hold of the items, Marius faded from view and said. If your Master ever passes on and you survive, please come find me. I can use a servant of your quality. Well, lets get this back to Harry. Hermione said herself as she tucked the items into her bag, and then with a pop disappeared.

Lord of Bones

Continuation, Lord of Bones style

March 1997.

Harry awoke, a warm weight pressing against his chest. Had this been a year ago, he’d have leant back and enjoyed the comforting sensation… but this was not a year ago. He’d been alone for so long, it now felt unnatural to have someone make physical contact with him. Green eyes snapped open, taking in the brown curls of his once-best friend. Nuitari Almighty, what’s she doing here?!

He quickly slipped out of the embrace, wincing at the pain in his half-healed wounds. A flick of his hand had him clothed in a shirt and jeans, holding his staff. He recalled a spell from one of Slytherin’s books, one that created a small, electrical jolt. Pressing the tip of the staff on his unsuspecting bedmate’s covered hip, he murmured the incantation. The gem atop the staff crackled and Hermione shot up with a yelp.

Her eyes focused on him. He started as Hermione reached out, ostensibly to embrace him. Oh, Harry! How are you feeling? Are you okay?

She was cut off when Harry leveled the staff at her face, a blank expression on his face. I fail to see how my personal health is of any concern to you, Hermione. Harry said emotionlessly. Hermione flinched at his tone.

Please, Harry, she said quietly, I know we haven’t talked much lately—

Of course not. You were too busy with giving Ron’s knob a taste test. It’s perfectly understandable for teenage girls to drop on their knees and suck off people who’ve constantly degraded them throughout their scholastic careers.

Hermione whimpered at that. Ignoring her, he continued on in that same emotionless voice, But enough about your social life. What are you doing here, and more importantly, why in all the Nine Hells were you in my bed, naked?

I… I followed you here and saw you transform. Then you were shivering because it was cold, so I shared my body heat—

Wonderful. Now I’ll go and bathe in acid, assuming there’s one strong enough to dissolve the taint of Ron Weasley that you’ve no doubt passed on to me. Go back to your precious Weasley and his 3-inch wonder.

… I broke up with Ron. He was cheating on me. Hermione said softly.

… How quaint. And I’m the rebound?

Hermione looked shocked. What?! No, Harry! she yelled shrilly, panic in her voice.

Harry sneered. Please, spare me. Convenient, isn’t it? That the minute Ron Weasley turns his back on you, you come to poor, deluded Harry for comfort, just because you need someone to make you feel better. Nevermind that you’ve essentially ignored me for nine months, nevermind the fact that if Ron hadn’t been so indiscreet you would still be on your knees in front of him! Harry was shouting now.

I-I didn’t— Hermione was crying now.

Didn’t what, Hermione? Didn’t mean to push me away? Didn’t mean to throw away five years of friendship? Didn’t mean to betray me by not even having the moral fortitude or courage to come clean about your indiscretion with Weasley? Didn’t mean to ignore me for nine months then suddenly turn around and start trying to spend time with me just because you were too blind to notice that Weasley was shagging Lavender? I am no-one’s second best, Hermione! he roared.

You only came to me because your darling fuckbuddy was screwing someone else on the side! Did you want me to hold your hand and tell you it was going to be alright? That things will work out in the end?! You obviously don’t respect me as a human being, much less care about me, so why bother?! he spat, eyes flashing. Deep within him, he felt the dragon’s rage.

Then suddenly he slumped, sudden weariness on his face. His grip on the staff tightened.

Ironic, isn’t it? If you and Ron hadn’t abandoned me, I wouldn’t have gained my staff and the power of the dragon, much less the magic in this Chamber. I suppose it was for the best.   You got your pleasure and I surpassed the students of the school in power and knowledge.

He sighed as he heard Hermione choke back a sob.

What exactly do you want from me, Hermione? Benediction? Acceptance? Forgiveness? There’s nothing left for me to give. I don’t think I can even bring myself to care anymore. Harry said tiredly. Just forget this ever happened, Hermione. Then we can all go back to the way things were. You can patch up with Ron and I can continue my non-interference in your relationship. He turned away, leaning on the staff wearily.

Then he heard it, a small and almost inaudible phrase. Please, Harry. Could… could you please let me explain? Hermione asked timidly.

Harry closed his eyes, willing a chair of shadowstuff to materialize. Talk. Fast.

Erm… well, I want to talk about what happened last year.

You found out that Ron had a penis. Harry added smoothly. You discovered that you like having said penis in your mouth. Ron discovered that he liked having said penis in your mouth. You both decided that it wasn’t any of my damned business, and started to ignore me. Nine months later, you find Ron fucking Lavender, and come running to me. That about sum it up?

Hermione slumped slightly. I-I suppose… from a certain point of view.

Harry shook his head sadly. True or false, Hermione. True or false.

She glanced up at him sharply. You’ve been studying Necromancy. That makes you dark and evil.

Healing spells are mostly necromancy. Your argument fails on that basis. said Harry calmly, watching her while twirling the staff in his hands. She faltered at that.

So, go on, then; regale me with the riveting tale of how I shouldn’t be told of the change in dynamics of the ‘Golden Trio’. Tell me why my best friend decided sucking dick was preferable to talking. Tell me why I should trust you, since it is plain you don’t trust me, and haven’t trusted me for almost a year.

When put like that, Hermione nearly collapsed. I… I don’t know, Harry. She whimpered.

Sooner of later… the day comes when you can’t hide from the things you’ve done. And sometimes, neglect and indifference can do more damage than outright dislike. Both maxims apply very well to our situation.

I… I know, Harry, believe me, I know. I feel terrible about this. I want to make it up to you.

I don’t know if it can be made up. Harry replied, his emotions tightly reined in. At the moment, I don’t trust you. You didn’t trust me. And then, to compound that, you followed me to my place of solitude, of privacy, and interfered in something that had nothing to do with you. The original transformations left me with broken shoulders, a cracked hip and a concussion. Why the sudden care now?

Hermione whimpered in horror. Oh God, Harry… I didn’t know! I’m so sorry!

You’re not apologizing to me for my sake. You want absolution of your guilt by garnering my interest, so that you can meddle in my private affairs once more.

She broke down. N-No Harry! I know I’ve lost your friendship and that I don’t deserve it back and that it’s all my fault— she wailed. Harry watched her expressionlessly, waiting for her to regain her composure despite every instinct that screamed at him to comfort her.

Eventually she pulled herself together. B-But I swear to you Harry, on my life, that I’ll help you, mind, body and soul, as a vassal to her master. Even if you don’t wish to acknowledge me, I swear myself to you. I will never betray you again.

Harry looked at her, considering her words carefully before finally speaking up, after a long silence.

I accept.

 

Alternate

Eventually she pulled herself together. B-But I swear to you Harry, on my life, that I’ll help you, mind, body andsoul, as a vassal to her master. Even if you don’t wish to acknowledge me, I swear myself to you. I will never betray you again.

Harry looked at her wistfully before speaking up. I will not survive the battle against Voldemort. I will die there and take him with me; of that I have no doubt. A vassal… will not change the outcome.

There was silence, before Hermione suddenly leapt up and engulfed him in a desperate embrace. No, no, no, no… she whimpered into his shirt.

He did not shake her off.

 

I’m not too pleased with this. I think I made Harry’s decision too quickly. Thoughts/Suggestions? Also, suggestions for the next chapter?

Lord of Bones

Harry sighed blissfully as he took a walk around the camping ground that housed the many fans of the Quidditch World Cup, idly watching the many different ethnicities mingling with each other, united by a common interest. He jogged around the camp’s perimeter, relieved to have escaped the chaos of the Weasley tent if only for a brief moment.

If I have to listen to Ron talk about Krum one more time… he thought, mentally chuckling at the thought of his best friend’s almost frightening obsession with the Bulgarian seeker. He passed by a group of African witch-doctors, hearing muffled snippets of conversation about spirits and curses.

Harry shook his head bemusedly, making a mental note to explore the Wizarding cultures of other continents after finishing Hogwarts. Maybe Hermione would like to keep him company then…

Then he felt the force of the explosion and heard the screams.

Eyes widening, Harry ran towards the source of the noise, brushing past the panicking and screaming witches and wizards. Cruel laughter and taunts echoed in his ears as he watched the helpless Muggle family being casually hurled about by invisible hands. Robed figures in skull masks watched the entire affair, flicking their wands in rhythm with the hurled people.

Then Harry heard sniffling.

A young blonde girl no more than eight was watching the whole thing, silently crying. A robed figure turned to the girl, apparently having heard the noise. His wand was raised, pointed directly at the girl.

Cru—

No! yelled Harry, leaping in front of the spell’s path and shielding the girl with his body. The spell struck home.

Harry gritted his teeth, willing himself not to scream. The little girl trembled in his arms.

The spell was lifted.

Potter, said a familiar silky voice, how predictable.

Lucius Malfoy. The aristocrat raised his wand, observed by his fellow dark wizards. Adflictatio veber!

The force lashes struck Harry several times, slashing into the flesh of his back. Eventually the whipping stopped, leaving Harry with a heavily bleeding back — wounds deep enough to cut into the bone.

The aristocrat and his accomplices laughed. So it ends Harry. We’ll be sure to… entertain the brat when you’re gone, gloated another masked figure.

Harry raised his wand, holding back a scream of pain from the wounds exerted on his back. Serpensortia, he whispered. Six massive cobras burst from the wand, hissing agitatedly. The dark wizards didn’t notice, but the little girl cowered into Harry’s arms.

Bite them, he commanded. The serpents moved and Harry heard the wizards scream as the large serpents struck.

What’s your name? he asked the girl quietly.

A-Astoria. Astoria Greengrass. She whimpered.

Okay Astoria. I want you to hold on tight, Harry whispered. He scooped the girl in his arms (feeling her fist into his shirt) and ran towards the Weasley tent, ignoring the agony of his back.

 

Hermione was frantic.

Death Eaters had attacked the Muggle family that owned the campsite, sending wizards and witches screaming for their lives. To make it worse, Harry had disappeared!

She cast a glance at the Weasleys, who were huddled around the camp. Ron and Ginny were shaking, while the elder siblings looked scared but determined. Opposite them, a brunette young woman around her age looked terrified — she had lost her younger sister in the fracas.

Hermione didn’t know Daphne Greengrass personally, but she knew the beautiful Slytherin was highly sought after despite being both cold and collected. Somehow, seeing the normally composed girllook so broken was a blow to Hermione in a way she couldn’t explain. Flanking the witch were here parents, a shapely blonde woman and a dark-haired man, both of which looked wildly distraught.

Hermione steeled herself and approached the Slytherin, who looked up suspiciously. Without a word, she embraced the brunette, who stiffened noticeably.

Then, she started shaking.

She’s crying, Hermione realized. She let Daphne bawl on her shoulder, willing herself not to join the Slytherin. The fact that Harry wasn’t here was driving her to tears.

Then they heard footsteps. Wands were leveled at the direction of the sounds.

A young man staggered out, bleeding heavily and cradling a blonde girl. Though his shirt was torn and his face had seen better days, the emerald-green eyes and scar were instantly noticeable. Gingerly, he set the girl down.

Daphne looked up, and her eyes met her sister’s.

Astoria! she screamed. Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass looked up.

The little girl smiled and ran towards her family. He saved me, Daph! He protected me from the bad men! she said excitedly. Hermione, who was halfway to Harry’s side — and the Greengrasses — looked at him with shock.

Harry smiled wanly.

Then he collapsed, the blood pooling beneath him. The last thing he heard was Hermione’s scream before unconsciousness overtook him.

 

Lord of Bones

’Potter, Adrian!’

’GRYFFINDOR!’

’Potter, Catherine!’

’GRYFFINDOR!’

Snape starts twitching, badly.

’Potter, Lucifer!’

’SLYTHERIN!’

’Potter, Raphael!’

’RAVENCLAW!’

Snape breaks down to tears.

Lord of Bones

Just a compliation of all the Harry’s kids from different witches come back in time drabbles I’ve written and posted. Feel free to add on to them.

Mama?

Fleur looked up inquiringly at the sound of her future daughter’s voice, meeting the girl’s emerald gaze gaze with her own. Aimee Potter had inherited her mother’s silver hair in addition to her father’s eyes, resulting in a devastatingly adorable combination; this, along with the features of both her parents and her mother’s heritage, was proof enough that the little girl would be a heartbreaker when she grew up.

With an unconscious maternal gesture, the part-Veela brushed aside the silver locks that fell over her daughter’s face, tucking them behind her ear. The little girl smiled shyly at her mother’s younger self. Can I ask you something?

Of course, ma belle.

The child seated herself on her future mother’s lap and snuggled in, breathing in Fleur’s scent as the French witch stroked her long hair. The girl looked at her mother’s face, curiosity in her eyes. Why does Papa punish you?

Every shocked eye in the room — from Hermione and her future twins to Tonks and her daughter — was on the part-Veela and her daughter.

Fleur stared at her child in shock as the question reverbrated in her ears. Wh-what? she asked weakly; her mind racing. It was impossible — it was too much suspension of disbelief to think that Harry was one of those types of men -

Obliviously, Aimee continued on. Oui. Sometimes, Mama and Papa leave the bedroom door slightly open, and once I saw Mama making these funny noises while Papa was spanking her, and she wasn’t wearing any clothes! I thought only very naughty girls got spanked! Does that mean you’re a naughty girl, Mama?

Sudden relief filled Fleur, her initial fears eased… that is, until what her daughter was saying caught up to her. The normally-composed part Veela began to stammer incoherently as she struggled to think of something to say; something that wasn’t helped by Tonks’ wolf-whistle and snigger.

You mean your mum and dad do that too? piped up Luce Potter. I saw dad spanking mum one night too and she was making all these strange sounds! Dad was calling her an infuriating, delicious little cocktease — What’s that mean, mum? And why were you making all those noises? Does that mean you were being naughty?

Daphne’s dark hair did nothing to shield her blush.

We thought Mum and Daddy were the only ones who did that! cut in Catherine Potter. Her male twin nodded as he looked up from his book. But we saw Mummy ask Dad if she could make up for it with extra credit! continued Adrian.

Hermione squeaked.

 

Adrian Potter yawned sleepily and snuggled deeper into the lap of his mother’s teenage self; his chubby fists gripping her skirt as he began to nod off. His twin sister was already cuddled against their mother’s side; soft rhythmic breathing indicating that she’d dozed off. His younger father had left to buy new clothes and entertainment items for all his new brothers and sisters, and his mother was now overseeing his and his sister’s nap times.

Hermione just watched her future children with a sense of stunned amazement. Maternal instincts she never knew she had welled up in her as she brushed a lock of hair from her son’s cheek — Adrian had inherited her own thick curls along with his father’s hair colour, while Catherine’s brown hair had her father’s distinct shape to it. Both children had their father’s stunning emerald gaze.

And, judging from their actions, had inherited a dangerously embarrassing sense of curiousity.

Mummy? asked Adrian sleepily; breaking into Hermione’s reverie.

The witch stroked her son’s thick locks. Yes Adrian?

Wha’s kinky mean?

Hermione smiled at the child’s inquisitiveness. It means a pl — EEEP!

Mummy?

A pair of wide brown eyes met his. Wh-where did you hear that word?

Adrian tilted his head innocently, I heard you and Dad say it.

Hermione stared at the time-lost boy in rapidly growing shock; so much that her What?! came out as Wrghbgl?

Adrian nodded. Uh-uh! I was goin’ to the library to get a book — ‘cause you taught us how to take what books we wanted by ourselves, Mummy — an’ I heard you and Dad in the kitchen, n’ Dad was speaking in the same way when Cathy n’ I learned new words n’ spells, an’ he said that you were as ‘kinky as your hair’! Then you said that you were even kinkier and then Dad said he was gonna put that to the test! N’ then there was this sound like whenever we’d be eatin’ lollies and ice-cream, n’ then you were makin’ thse noises n’ Dad said that was just the warm-up! So what’s kinky mean, Mummy?

Very slowly, Hermione processed what Adrian babbled before turning bright red and squeaking incoherently.

She was never quite able to look Harry in the eye for a while after that.

 

The Room of Requirement was not a place lacking in activity. Since its inception as a brainchild of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, the Room had seen some of the stranger things in Wizarding History.

It was in this place, almost one thousand years ago, that the ancient lich Zamaan Ruul would teach the Founders of Hogwarts the secret art of imbuing souls and personalities into mundane objects, transforming them into quasisentient beings in the border between living and never-lived. It was here, nearly six hundred years ago, that Nicholas Flamel would break the secrets to the creation of the Philosopher’s Stone; and it was here where the boy who would become Lord Voldemort performed one of the foulest acts known to any dark sorcerer, and segmented his own soul.

But it was highly unlikely the creators of the Room ever foresaw what was currently transpiring in the place.

Wearing a set of pale blue pyjamas with her long silver hair bound into a French braid, Fleur smiled indulgently at the little girl seated on her lap as they relaxed on the armchair the Room provided. Aimee Potter, for her part, was fascinated with her mother’s flowing locks; so unlike the curls she’d inherited from her father. The little girl had already unwound the older witch’s lower braid, and was threading her fingers along the part-Veela’s hair.

It was no secret that Fleur enjoyed showing off herself, but it was almost unknown that the vain witch revelled in having her hair played with. With a child or her sister, she found it relaxing; in a lover, she found it sensuous.

Seated on the floor next to Fleur’s armchair, Tonks leaned back against the armchair and grinned challengingly at her own daughter. Lily Potter grinned back.

What followed was a whirlwind of colour as both Metamorphmagi began cycling through hair colours, ranging from relatively placid brown to outrageously bright blue as the oneupmanship continued without pause, until Lily gave a frustrated pout at her mother’s preferred hair colour.

Now pink-haired again, Tonks looked smug — until her daughter’s hair transformed into a literal rainbow of colour.

I win, Mum! cheered the little witch, giggling at her gobsmacked mother.

On the nearby bed, Lavender was cuddling with her own daughter. Rose Potter murmured sleepily as she snuggled deeper into her mother’s warmth, yawning as Lavender stroked her fine blonde curls while crooning into her daughter’s ear. The older witch nuzzled the little girl and brushed a kiss against her forehead as the child relaxed into her. The beautiful blonde had proven to have an extraordinary maternal streak, surprising many who knew her.

Next to her, Pansy and Daphne looked at their own sons as the giggling boys play-wrestled under their mothers’ watchful eyes. Lucifer Potter — or Luke, as he preferred to be called — had inherited his statuesque mother’s wavy black hair, while Artemis Potter had Pansy’s gray-blue eyes but lacked his mother’s petite frame. With mutual grins, the two boys broke free of their mock-roundhousing and went back to their respective mothers, brushing sloppy kisses on the witches’ cheeks before attempting to tickle them.

Really, Art! What would your father say! chided Pansy good-naturedly. The dark-haired boy smiled cheekily.

That’s easy, mum! He’ll tell me to distract you, then he’ll grab you from behind and start tickling!

The normally-vitroilic Slytherin witch staggered mentally as the image of a happy household with Harry Potter — the last person she’d have imagined — gained even greater clarity, while even Daphne seemed to be lost in thought. Anything further though was quickly interrupted when a pair of twin blurs barelled through the door as Hermione followed behind them., wearing a robe belted at the waist.

Slowly, you two, she warned mildly as she shrugged off the robe and hung it on the hook.

Yes, Mum!

 ‘Ello, ‘Ermione… . Fleur’s voice trailed off as the silver-blonde stared at the newest arrival; an act that was mirrored by all the assembled witches.

Hermione looked somewhat perturbed at the looks she was getting. What? she asked self-consciously.

Lavender took in the tight tank-top that clung tightly to her dormmate’s full breasts — showing that she slept braless — and the short-shorts that left most of her toned, tanned legs bare; then sighed and covered her face with her palm.

What’s wrong, Mummy?

Just your Aunt Hermione being clueless, dear, replied the buxom blonde.

Hey!

Fleur shook her head slightly to regain her composure before giving Hermione a challenging look. Two can play at zis game, ‘Ermione!

A flick of her wand replaced the part-Veela’s pyjamas with an equally daring tanktop-and-shorts set; leaving the beautiful witch’s arms and upper cleavage bare, while the shorts clung to the Frenchwoman’s firm arse and highlighted her sleek ivory limbs. Fleur crossed her arms under her spectacular bust and smirked cockily at the puzzled brunette.

Watching this, Tonks’ eyes glinted mischeivously. Kids, why don’t you go find your father? We mums have a few things to discuss.

The children cheered and kissed their mothers’ cheeks before running out the door like a miniature stampede. Making sure the children had left, Tonks grinned and stood up. That’s the way you want to play it, Frenchie?

A flick of her wand, and another tanktop and jean-shorts clung to the Auror’s athletic figure. The playful Metamorph smirked at the quick stares aimed at her backside and gave it a playful wiggle.

Hermione just looked on, bewildered.

Daphne and Pansy traded uncertain glances before the former took a breath and stood up, pulling her flipping her long dark waves over her shoulder. No one out does a Greengrass, Granger!

But I’m not-

The curvaceous Slytherin cut her off with wave of her wand, replacing the green pyjamas with a white tank-top and green shorts, both cut in the style Hermione was wearing. As proud as she was of her looks, she really wasn’t going to go any further… and keeping the arousal she was feeling from showing was going to be a chore in itself.

Pansy bit her lip and shyly transfigured her pyjamas as well. The petite witch had a reputation for having both a vicious tongue and temper when angry, but having just grown into her features two years ago, she was still quite shy about herself though she filled her outfit quite well. She crossed her arms over her breasts, hiding the effects that the situation was was having on her.

Lavender looked around with a raised eyebrow, before finally getting up and transfiguring her outfit into a thin white nightgown that clung to her ample breasts and flowed down to her knees. The blonde smiled daringly, knowing very well that a look down would show that she was indeed a natural blonde.

Tonks returned the challenge with a slashing motion at her own torso, cutting off her tank-top below her perky chest and exposing her toned belly. She crossed her arms and smirked, only to watch Fleur go even further.

The part-Veela stood up in a slinky blue babydoll that clung to her volouptous frame, showing the upper cleavage of her own impressive rack and topping it off with a pair of lacy powder-blue knickers. The Veela smiled proudly at the hitch and changes in posture she sensed in her roommates, while holding back her own reactions to the increasing eroticism of the situation.

Then the door opened again. Girls, the kids are upstairs and — ERK!

Harry had come in.

 

The older Potter tilted his head as he examined the scowling white-haired Slytherin almost dismissively. Who’s this again?

Draco fumed as his hated rival’s older counterparts gave him looks worthy of cockroaches, before Hermione’s older counterpart stepped in, rolling her eyes. Honestly Harry! You know it’s Malfoy!

Harry chuckled and sent his wife a flirtatious grin, making her cheeks turn pink. No need to get so huffy, Kitten.

The brown-haired witch blushed and squeaked at the pet name as the younger witches, her husband’s younger self and counterparts, and their wives turned to look at her inquisitively. The young mother valiantly tried to stammer out an excuse, as her husband continued on.

Besides, I didn’t recognize him with the hair, he said dismissively.

Pansy’s husband looked up from where he was sitting, idly playing with his wife’s short locks. You mean there was a time he had hair? he asked in mock-surprise.

Draco’s hand went to his hair in horror as he listened in. His luxurious locks, gone?!

Malfoy is… bald? asked the younger Harry curiously; filing away the nickname he would apparently have for Hermione.

Lavender’s Harry nodded from his spot on the sofa. Oh yes, he grinned happily, Bald as an egg at twenty-five! His wife smacked his shoulder playfully.

You just can’t resist mocking him about it, can you?

He raised an eyebrow. Me, mock him? Darling, would I look better with a ponytail? Harry, I just love Hermione’s curls! Love, the studio’s new stylist does wonderful things to hair! Always in front of him, too!

Both Lavenders had the good grace to blush. Daphne’s husband burst out laughing.

Nothing beats Daphne! Every time she bumps into him, she runs her hands along her hair and then flips it over her shoulder, gives him this smirk, and saunters off! I actually thought he was going to cry!

The older Slytherin looked smug.

 

Lord of Bones

The Dumbledore’s man, H/G and R/Hr subplots never happened, you hear me?! NEVER!
And I refuse to use the term Deathstick.

Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark sorcerer to reign over Europe since the Russian lich Koschei the Deathless, was dead. He had been so for almost a year. The celebration of the evil mage’s destruction was still going on. The Deathly Hallows, instruments of his defeat, had finally been united under one master.

And he was dead to the world.

Harry James Potter, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Black and Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Golden Boy of Gryffindor, bane of Dark Lords and Evil Overlord wannabes everywhere and the most eligible bachelor in Great Britain dozed off contentedly in the masterbedroom of 12 Grimmauld Place; the teakwood basinet that held his one-year-old orphaned godson Teddy barely four feet away from him. Harry snuggled deeper into the warmth of his bed, enjoying the rare moments of sleep that were not interrupted by his godson’s cries.

All too soon, dawn broke.

A soft, loving woman’s voice swam in Harry’s ears, rekindling an old memory nearly eighteen years old; one of that same voice lulling him to sleep. He felt a small, warm hand stroking his hair. Harry pressed his head into the hand, relishing the sensation.

He heard voices around him.

Oh James, our baby’s all grown up! said an excited woman’s voice.

He looks just like me, Lily! Our son looks just like me!

Don’t wake him up, Prongs; he’s not much of a morning person…

Huh, just like Lily…

This was a good dream, Harry decided.

At least, until he felt a hand creeping up his thigh.

Years of being hunted by a sociopathic, homicidal maniac had left Harry with exceedingly quick reflexes — reflexes that were being put to good use at that moment. Harry leapt out of bed, drawing the Deathwand out of its sheath and sweeping it in a crescent shape in front of him. Who are you?! he spat out, watching the newly revealed cloaked strangers warily.

Then he froze, looking into emerald-green eyes.

The wand dropped to the floor.

Hello Harry, whispered the figure, her hood thrown back to reveal blood-red tresses and a beautiful face. The figurenext to her pulled back his cowl to reveal a handsome, bespectacled man with messy black hair and warm brown eyes.

His parents.

Mum? Dad? N-no! You’re dead…

Soft warm arms engulfed him in a hug, one he hadn’t had since he was fifteen months old. He — and his mother — sank to the floor.

And Harry wept, his mother stroking his hair and whispering comforts into his ear. Even after he had stopped, he simply lay there, enjoying the sensation of a mother’s love. He felt a large hand squeeze his shoulder comfortingly; looking up to see his father smiling warmly.

But how—

We’ll explain everything, baby, soothed Lily. But first, we have to do the introductions.

Harry nodded and stood up, feeling embarrassed at his public display of tears. His fears were unfounded though, as he received a sense of amused approval from the rest of the specters. One stood forward, tossing back his hood to reveal a roguishly-grinning man. Harry’s eyes widened.

Sirius?!

In two steps, Sirius crossed the room, drawing Harry into a bear hug.

A very strong one.

Sirius… can’t breathe!

Oops, grinned Sirius. Sorry kiddo.

Another figure stood over the basinet, a look of awe on his face. My son… whispered Remus reverently, the fingers of one hand trailing down the sleeping Teddy’s smooth cheek. He turned to Harry, unshed tears in his eyes. Thank you, Harry.

Harry simply nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.

The four remaining figures stepped forward, each one dressed in flowing robes corresponding to the four Houses of Hogwarts.

The one in the red-gold robe spoke first. Allow me to introduce myself, young wizard! he spoke, his booming voice reverberating in the room. Harry blinked as the man struck a pose, his compatriots sighing in disgust. I am the Deliverer of Damsels, the Slayer of Sins, the Assaulter of Abominations, the Blade against Beasts, the—

— Man who died a virgin at the age at the age of one hundred and twenty. supplied the man dressed in emerald and silver. Salazar Slytherin, at your service, announced the same man, sweeping back his hood to reveal features nearly identical to Harry’s own. And the blowhard over there is Godric Gryffindor, said Slytherin, pointing towards the pouting blonde-locked man whose features had just been revealed.

You don’t look like the statue of Slytherin… said Harry uncertainly; trying to deal with the fact that his ‘visitors’ claimed to be two of the founders of Hogwarts.

Statue? asked Slytherin, blinking. Then he scowled. Dammit Godric, why couldn’t you have hired a competent sculptor? I looked like a monkey!

Gryffindor shrugged. You were the one too stingy to lend me any money to hire a sculptor, Salazar.

Ignoring the bickering spirits, Harry turned to the last two wraiths. The black-and-yellow robed one pulled back her cowl revealing deep blonde hair, grey eyes and a pretty face. I am Helga Hufflepuff, child, she said, smiling warmly and exuding a soothing calm. Despite himself, Harry smiled.

The last figure had disposed of her cloak entirely, revealing a buxom and beautiful young woman with lustrous black hair clad in a tight-fitting blue and bronze robe, smiling sinfully. Despite himself, Harry’s eyes dropped to her chest.

Wow, that was a tight robe.

The witch smiled. Rowena Ravenclaw, stud, she whispered huskily, a seductive expression on her face. Harry gulped and turned away quickly, ignoring the subtle tightening of his trousers and the way the witch was looking at him like a piece of meat.

Mum? How exactly did you come back? he asked. The witch smiled sadly. We’re not exactly back, Harry. We’re still dead, but only you can see us, as you are the intermediary to the netherworld.

What do you mean?

What do you know about the Master of Death, son?

And so it began.

Lord of Bones

This was supposed to be crack, then it got away from me.

7th year AU

An anguished scream ran out through the keep.

A body toppled from its throne, turning into dust.

Harry Potter collapsed to one knee, the Staff Of Slytherin and Sword of Gryffindor in each hand. He breathed harshly, at last free from the taint of Lord Voldemort.

You’ve done it, Harry! cried out a jubilant voice,

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black strode into the room, grinning widely. Sirius held a headless serpentine corpse in one hand while Remus gripped the ruined remains of an ornate cup. The last Horcruxes were destroyed; and with them, Voldemort’s immortality. Harry gave them an exhausted grin.

He stood up on shaky legs, leaning on the emerald-encrusted staff. He looked at Voldemort’s throne before transfiguring it into a large chair and taking a seat.

Padfoot, Moony…  he looked at them before breaking into a massive grin. How do you feel about becoming part of a new Dark regime?

Stunned silence reigned, at least until the calm werewolf spoke up.

What?!

Harry’s grin grew wider. Think about it! We could topple the Ministry, institute reforms and grant equality to women and magical creatures! All we need to do is appear really scary yet oddly charismatic.

Sirius stepped forward. … And what about your opponents? he asked worriedly. Had his godson gone off the deep end?

We’ll prank them into submission.

Remus spoke up. So… essentially, we’re going to conquer the world with a dark yet benign empire by humiliating the Ministry in any way possible?

Yep.

I’m in.

Moony?! gasped Sirius.

The werewolf shrugged. What? It’s a good, if fairly deranged scheme. It’s also what Lily would’ve wanted.

What about James?

He was planning Harry’s harem.

The ex-convict paused, then opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again. He looked thoughtful, then shrugged. It’s better than nothing.

Harry smiled again. There’s also one other thing.

Which is?

My Dark Consorts. Every Dark Lord needs a harem of Dark Consorts.

Sirius and Remus blinked owlishly, then smiled. That… can be arranged.

 

The Order of the Phoenix gathered at the Head Table, watching the students of Hogwarts eat their breakfast and worriedly noting the absence of one Harry James Potter. At the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger searched frantically, looking for her best friend, wishing to apologize for her atrocious conduct last year. Ron Weasley was stuffing his face with food, as normal.

Dumbledore stood up to give his customary speech.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open.

Immediately, several wands were raised, pointing towards the entrance.

Two men strode in confidently, their cloaks billowing behind them. Several gasps echoed in the hall.

Black and Lupin!

Are they teaching?

Where’s Potter?

The two men stopped before the Head Table, then turned on their heels to face the students.

Sonorus muttered Sirius before speaking up. Hear ye, hear ye! As of 4 p.m. yesterday, the Dark Lord Voldemort had his scaly arse kicked by Harry Potter!

At this point, the entire hall burst into cheers. Several were sobbing with relief, while Hermione looked on fearfully. Where was Harry?

Shaddup you ‘orrible little people! Surprisingly, the normally calm Remus had shouted.

The hall fell silent, universally wide-eyed.

Sirius continued on; As of 4 p.m. yesterday, Harry Potter has been proclaimed the Dark Lord of the Wizarding World! He pledges to fight corruption, restore equality, institute reforms and be a fair and just employer!

The silence was almost tangible. Even Dumbledore looked on, wide-eyed with astonishment.

He offers free dental, insurance, hazard pay and on-the-spot training! For more details, please refer to the booths that will be set up tomorrow!

Whispers began to rise. Free dental? Can’t be worse than Fudge! Sounds fun!

And finally, to the lovely ladies who wish to see if the wand matches thewizard, if skills in battle equate to skills in the bedroom, please be informed that four positions for the posts of Dark Consorts are open. Interviews are scheduled to start in one hour in the Room of Requirement! Ages 16 and up only!

Then they strode out of the hall, leaving a bevy of whispers and a dumbstruck Order.

spd3432us

I think it works better with the kids much younger than that. And the teens a year younger as well — during OOTP.

Harry and Hermione met McGonagall at the gargoyle leading to the headmaster’s office. To their surprise, there were three other girls waiting — Padma Patil, Daphne Greengrass, and Susan Bones.

Ah good. You’re all here. Mars Bars McGonagall said. As the gargoyle moved aside Go on. Up the stairs, the headmaster wants to see all of you.

Harry, what did you do now?

Nothing Hermione. I swear. I don’t know what this is about.

Stepping into the inner office, the teens were met with the sounds of small children sniffling.

Looking around, they saw a little boy about 6 and two little girls that appeared to be 4 or 5 years old and another boy and girl of about 8 or 9.

Headmaster. I have the students you requested.

The sniffling children looked up and ran over to the teens. Mummy, mummy. The youngest boy (dark haired) latched onto Daphne and a little strawberry blonde girl missing her front teeth grabbed Susan. A dusky skinned girl wrapped her arms around Padma while the other two buried their faces in Hermione’s waist.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he spoke up I believe you all know why you’ve been asked up here.

Harry spoke up, Not really. Who are these children and why am I here?

Well, Harry. These are your children.

Right. Good joke headmaster. The truth please.

Hearing that, the two children in Hermione’s arms turned around and the boy spoke up Dad, while we were waiting for you we were all talking. Emma and I believe that we’ve all traveled through time and across dimensions but where we come from Harry Potter is our father.

And I’m your dad? And these are all your moms?

No dad. You’re all of ours’ dad but we didn’t know these other kids before.

And I lived with you and your mum?

The little girl spoke up. Yes dad. You were married. But only to her.

I don’t believe it. I wouldn’t cheat if I was married.

That’s right. And mum wouldn’t let you either. We were on holiday at the beach last year and you watched a girl walk by. Mum slapped you and said… at this the little girl put her hands on her hips and started tapping her toe  Harry James Potter. I realize that due to the unfortunate circumstances under which that moronic headmaster forced you to be raised that you are perpetually stuck in a state of adolescence, therefore causing a biological need for you to admire the curves of an attractive female; but if you ever think about doing anything more than looking I’ll cut off your dangly bits and turn them into potions ingredients. Do I make myself clear? You turned pale and said Yes dear .

Across the room, Daphne started laughing Good job Granger

The other little boy walked over to Harry Father, why do you have Gryffindor trim on your robes instead of Slytherin like mother?

Slytherin? I was sorted into Slytherin?

Yes father. I overheard Mother talking with Aunt Tracy and she was telling her about your discussion on the Hogwarts Express about the proper steps for preparing potions ingredients and when the hat said you’d be great in Slytherin you accepted so you could continue your conversation.

The little blond girl spoke up. Mummy, tell him he’s wrong. Everyone knows daddy was in Huthleputh like you. Please mummy.

Lord of Bones

Takes place in an AU 6th year, with a somewhat Lucifer-esque Harry and Jafar’s You’re Only Second Rate.

Sectumsempra!

Horrified silence permeated the Great Hall as Draco Malfoy’s curse struck the back of an unsuspecting Harry Potter, sending a spray of blood intothe air.

Harry!

Hermione’s anguished scream struck even the coldest heart with sympathy as the Muggleborn witch ran to her fallen friend, tears steaming down herfair cheeks. Draco smiled.

Who’s laughing now, Potter? he hissed triumphantly. His smile was wiped off as a familiar chuckle echoed in the Hall, professors and students alike shocked out of their stupor.

Death-green flame enveloped Harry’s body, rising into a column of fire. The flames faded to reveal a smirking Harry Potter. Why, I do believe it’s… me.

The Malfoy child looked on in shock, distantly noting that music had started to play and realizing Harry’s wand was pointed at him.

I must admit, your parlor tricks are amusing, sang Harry mockingly, sending a red bolt at the Malfoy scion, replacing his robes with a Muggle conjuror’s outfit.

I bet you’ve got a snake under your hat! he taunted, ripping away the ridiculous top-hat, revealing a massive snake that smothered Draco in its coils. A wave of the wand dispelled the serpent and sent a wave of black fire that was narrowly dodged. Now here’s your chance to get the best of me, hope your hand is hot!

Come on clown; let’s see what you’ve got! continued the Boy- Who- Lived mockingly, transfiguring the suit into a clown’s outfit. With a furious shriek, Draco undid the transfiguration before sending another Severing Curse at his rival.

You try to slam me with your hardest stuff, but but your double-whammy isn’t up to snuff, Harry sang, as the spell splashed harmlessly on his robe. I’ll set the record straight, he jeered, flicking his wand and levitating Draco; You’re simply out of date, you’re only second rate!

Collectively, the entire Hall gasped; both at the taunt and at the way Harry carelessly sent Draco crashing into Severus Snape at the Head Table. Malfoy howled in fury as he stood up, transfiguring a spoon into a tiger and sending it at the still stunned Hermione. Harry stood in front of her protectively, this time in a ringmaster’s outfit, complete with a hoop.

You think your cat’s a meanie but your tiger’s tame! he hissed as the tiger lunged into the hoop, turning into a kitten as it did so. You’ve still got a lot to learn about the wizard game! Harry sang, creating a pointed hat on Draco’s head, while simultaneously levitating him over the Hall.

So for your education, I’ll reiterate; you’re only second rate! Harry bellowed, dispelling the charm. Draco screamed and closed his eyes, before realizing he had landed on a soft surface — a massive hand to be exact.

Dark Lords cower at the power in my pinky, jeered Harry’s voice. Draco backed away until he hit the base of the thumb. Looking up, he saw Harry’s face. My thumb is number one on every list! With that, Harry reappeared, this time with massive raven wings on his shoulders, looking like the archetypal fallen angel.

But if you’re not convinced that I’m invincible, put me to the test! Draco yelped and tried to dodge a massive coffin falling on him. I’d love to lay this rivalry to rest!

Daphne Greengrass yelped as Draco turned his wand to her and flicked it upwards, sending the beautiful Slytherin as a missile against his rival. Harry caught her gently and set her down with Hermione. Go ahead and zap me with the big surprise, sang Harry as he avoided the follow-up Reductor Curse. Snap me in a trap, cut me down to size! he mocked, even as a globe of darkness sprang to life around him and several transfigured swords ripped into the globe.

The hall gasped, even as Dumbledore staggered out of his chair, Daphne rose to her feet screaming profanities at Draco and Hermione whimpered with horror. Then,  a massive cake with candles appeared, dispelling the darkness. The candles sprayed sparks as Harry rose from the topmost candle, wings outstretched. I’ll make a great escape, it’s just a piece of cake, you’re only second rate!

Malfoy yelped and turned to run, only to come face-to-face with a gigantic serpent. You know your hocus-pocus isn’t tough enough, and your mumbo-jumbo doesn’t measure up! the snake mocked with Harry’s voice. Malfoy blinked as he found himself  floating over the Great Hall, on the steps to a throne which Harry occupied and on the arm-rests were a very surprised Hermione Granger and Daphne Greengrass wearing outfits that a succubus would blush at, looking all the world like a dark god and his consorts. Harry looped his arms around their waists and brought them closer to him, even as his wand changed into a serpent-headed staff.

Draco gibbered and dashed down the steps (even as a less preservation-inclined part of him demanded he ogle the skimpily dressed beauties). Harry raised the staff and continued mockingly as energy blasts burst from the staff’s eyes, Let me pontificate upon your sorry state, you’re only second rate!

Narrowly evading the rays, Draco ran to the doors of the Hall. Zabacabadabra! sneered Harry, appearing in front on the Hall’s doors. Draco yelped and turned the other way, only to run into an elderly woman with emerald eyes. Granny’s gonna grab ya!

Shrieking like a five-year old, Draco ran in the direction of his house dorm. Harry loomed over him, his voice rising to a roar, Alakazam-da-mus and this thing’s bigger than the both of us! He brought down hisglowing hands, sending rays of crimson energy down.

So spare me your tremendous scare, you look horrendous in your underwear! At that, the student body burst out laughing as Draco’s pants were yanked down, revealing childish briefs. Even as he he stuggled to pull up his pants, he felt himself flying backwards.

And I can hardly wait to discombobulate, I’ll send you back and packing in a shipping crate! taunted Harry even as the Malfoy child fell into a sealed crate.

You’ll make a better living with a spinning plate, mocked the Boy- Who- Lived as Draco found himself desperately trying to maintainbalance on several spinning plates.

You’re only second rate! finished Harry, leaving the broken Malfoy scion on the floor. Ignoring the hushed silence, he walked over to Daphne and Hermione (who were still in their outfits and who were watching him with fascination) and offered his arms. They looped their arms around his and the trio made their way out of the Great Hall.

As they left, a student started clapping, soon followed by the entire student body; leaving only a dumfounded Dumbledore and a shocked Head Table.

Lord of Bones

Ronald Bilius Weasley was not a very bright man. His Hogwarts grades would have driven the most determined professor to tears and his tendency to blurt out the wrong thing at the worst possible moment was legendary — he once insulted Daphne Greengrass by calling her a dyke and a whore in front of Harry Potter and Malcolm Baddock. He spent the rest of the week fending off the Slytherin’s lover and cousin’s fury; including a memorable incident with an angry black dragon.

If he were asked to describe himself, he would no doubt claim himself a powerful wizard instrumental in the downfall of the Dark Lord Voldemort (regardless that he had been driven off the battlefield by an amused Lucius Malfoy), a great lover given that he landed one of the most attractive and intelligent women in the Wizarding World (regardless that he left her unsatisfied emotionally and sexually), an attractive paragon of wizarding masculinity (even though he had really let himself go) and, well, you get the picture.

That he was an opportunistic imbecile constantly envious of Harry Potter’s fame, wealth and power; not to mention the Unspeakable’s succubi-like wife despite having a woman of equal beauty, completely escaped him.

Twit.

Ron returned to the Burrow the night after his liason with Lavender Brown, figuratively patting himself on the back on his deception. A few more flings before marriage wasn’t too bad; it was a way to make the most of himself before being tied down. It was also a way to alleviate the frustration he felt at his fiancée rising through the ranks faster than he had. First Potter, now her, he mused bitterly. It rankled him that Harry, in the space of ten years, had shot up from intern to the Head of the Department of Mysteries Black Magic Division to the Head of the most independently powerful division in the international magical community while he was stuck with a desk job (not considering, of course, that Harry worked his way to the top). Still, at least he got the girl.

Son, your fiancée has a surprise for you, Molly Weasley winked before going back to her dishwashing. Her beloved, hard-working son deserved whatever surprise his fiancée had in store for him.

Truer words were never spoken.

Ron stopped at the lavoratory, stepping in and quaffing a Virility Potion. Lavender had worn him out earlier and he needed the stamina (despite only having sex for a grand total of 3½ minutes in 24 hours). He grinned inanely as the potion took effect, silently congratulating himself at the duplicity he perpetrated. Hermione would never know that he slept with Lavender. She deserved it anyway, with making him feel ‘less than a man’ (not that he was much of one in the first place).

He made his way to his room; opening the door and walking in, blinking at the sudden darkness.

Hello, Ron.

The youngest Weasley turned his head and felt his jaw drop. Dressed in a sky-blue negligee that emphasized her impressive breasts and the trimmed triangle of curls between her thighs was Hermione Granger. Ron smiled lecherously. Score!

Hi babe, how about—

He was cut off when his fiancée pinned him to the wall with a wave of her wand (where did that come from?) and sauntered over, looking all the world like a succubus. His pants tightened as Hermione leaned over, breasts pressing into his chest. Ron Weasley, you are— she whispered into his ear, her hot breath spiking up his arousal.

—a lying, cheating bastard.

Ron’s eyes bugged out. Wha—

Did you think I wouldn’t find out, Ron? she hissed, pulling away from him. Did you really believe that you and your Lav- Lav were that discreet?!

How did you know?! he asked, dumbfounded and a little angry. Her reply was to yank out the orb of recall and activate it.

Ron stared, dumbfounded. Greengrass has a really great rack, he muttered, feeling the familiar crimson of rage clouding his mind at the fact that Harry would wake up to this every day. Hermione flushed. Eep!

She quickly forwarded the memory to Ron’s indiscretion. The crimson of his skin darkened as his infidelity played out.

Hermione, it was a mistake!

Mistake? You claim I have no right to a career, denigrate my gender, expect me to wait on you hand and foot and cheat on me?! You call that a mistake?! screeched Hermione, her temper raging, brown eyes flashing.

I—

No more excuses, Ron! Harry was right!

Harry?! Here Ron raged. So Harry-fucking- Potter ruins everything again! Was he the one who told you?!

Harry’s not the guilty one here, Ron! He didn’t cheat on his wife! And he didn’t say a thing — Daphne told me!

Potter’s always the better one, eh?! For God’s sake, I got this for you! he shouted, pointing at his erect crotch.

The withering glance Hermione sent at him said volumes. How would I know the difference?

Ron gaped, looking at the scantily-clad bombshell in shock. Hermione slipped her engagement ring off her finger and hurled it at his feet.

A relationship is a partnership between equals Ron. You obviously don’t consider me one. We’re through. she said quietly. She transfigured her night-dress into a robe and disapparated, returning to her office, where she crumpled to her chair and buried her face in her hands, crying herself to sleep.

A warm cloak draped across her shoulders. Harry and Daphne Potter smiled at her slightly before vanishing to their manor, taking her with them.

Lord of Bones

Quiet. Solitude. He was travelling through the fathomless ether.

And then, darkness.

A man, tall, regal, robed in shadow. Eyes of the burning hells. A voice, cold and hateful.

You dare touch my mind, boy?!

A flash of emerald lightning.

Harry woke up, gasping for air. It was one thing to passively dream about Lord Voldemort’s machinations; but to actively intrude into the dark mage’s mind? He really had to rethink the Gryffindor philosophy of blind courage.

You alright, mate?

Harry turned to meet Ron’s eyes. Something flashed behind his eyelids.

Women, barely dressed and beautiful, before the throne of a muscular red-headed man. Proclaiming eternal devotion and loyalty. One in particular — a red-headed woman with features eerily like the man, with her head in the man’s bare lap.

SWEET MOTHER OF GOD! YOUR OWN SISTER!

Harry stared at Ron before making his way into the bathroom and retching from the sheer horror of what he had seen.

 

Harry staggered out of the dorm, eyes bloodshot and twitching. His mind briefly flashed back to the mental scene that had been burned into his mind when he looked at Ron. The… abomination had tormented him all night, ensuring a sleepless night.

Dear God, Mrs Weasley and Ginny… …

As much as he would have liked to think of it as a hallucination, the vivid reality of the… occasion suggested otherwise. And why did he see itwhen he looked at Ron? Was it some sort of passive Leglimency? Did it mean that Ron… 

Ew… 

Shuddering and mentally vowing not to consider the implications of Weasley inbreeding, the Boy- Who- Lived stumbled his way to the Common Room. Thelack of sleep caught up to him and he flopped onto a large sofa; not realizing it was already occupied.

Harry! yelped a familiar feminine voice.

Blinking and unsuccessfully willing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry blearily realized whose legs it were that his head was resting on.

He met the brown eyes of Hermione Granger. He smiled weakly.

Morning, HermioNEE…  Harry’s voice trailed off into a high pitched squeak. His eyes widened as another vision flashed into his mind.

Sweet Merlin!

 

She whimpered, pushing herself against the man’s body. A soft chuckle entered her ear as the man’s right hand slipped between her legs, his left still occupied with a firm breast. What’s this? he whispered tauntingly into her ear, the prim and proper Hermione Granger enjoys the thrill of being caught? In the Great Hall no less? How… kinky…

His fingers toyed with an erect nipple idly. All I have to is pull off the cloak and everyone gets treated to a free show, he whispered, his hand leaving her breast to grap the cloak covering them. She mewled, excitement, lust and a slight hint of fear in her tone.

Please, Harry… 

Harry’s eyes snapped open.

Sweet Merlin!

He jumped up from his seat, a distant part of him bemoaning the loss of the comforting warmth. Harry’s eyes tried to focus anywhere but the witchin front of him.

Erm… I’ve… ah… gotta go! See you in a tit! I mean, a bit! The young man fled the common room, mind frantic and pants tight; leaving his friend on her seat, watching him run from her with shock, astonishment and hurt in her eyes.

Lord of Bones

The Dark Lord closed his eyes and let his head fall back against his pillow, enjoying the minstrations of the brown-haired young woman lying in front of him. Her head bobbed along his cock, his right hand stroking her wild tresses gently.

Does Dumbledore know about your little indiscretion, Hermione? he asked tauntingly, noticing her slight flinch. Does he know that the prim and proper Hermione Granger, the greatest mind in the Order of the Phoenix, shares the bed of the the Dark Lord? he continued on, pulling his hard, saliva-soaked shaft away from her hot mouth. He pulled her up, against him, her soft, toned curves against his hard body.

Well? he asked challengingly, his eyes boring into her brown ones. Does it matter? she asked him defiantly, sliding upwards so that her full breasts dangled in front of his mouth.

He took the bait.

Lips closed around a pink nipple, nursing hungrily. Teeth grazed and a tongue laved against her nipple, drawing a hiss of pleasure from her. He regretfully pulled away from her breast, drawing a disappointed moan from her. In a surpisingly tender move, he cupped her cheek, drawing her face to his. Why are you avoiding the question, Hermione?

She shook her head. It’s just that—

He smiled slyly. Does Dumbledore know that you love being on top when we make love? he murmured, sliding the head of his cock against her wet pussy, before sliding in, inch by inch. She whimpered.

Does he know, he hissed, that you enjoy being in control, but love it when that control is taken away? He began thrusting into her, his powerful movements aided by the grip he kept on her hips. She moaned, grinding against him before he flipped them over and began to pound into her.

Does he know, he murmured into her breasts, that you’re relaying everything you learn from the Order to me? She mewled as he took her right breast into his mouth, suckling her nipple hungrily.

The sensations were too much. She cried out his name, her powerful orgasm stroking him. He endured, focusing on her flushed face. His thrusts became more erratic.

She came again, this time even stronger. Harry! she screamed. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock spurting into her. He thrust into her a few more times, each thrust sending another jolt of white-hot cum into her eager body. Still inside her, he fell on his side, pulling her to him so that her breasts were against his chest.

Lethargically, he kissed her tenderly. Does he know I love you? he asked sleepily. Does he know that all I want is to wake up with you in my arms, just once? He nuzzled her hair before finally succumbing to exhaustion. Hermione kissed his chest. One day, love. she murmured.

The next morning, the Dark Lord smiled when he opened his eyes. She was still in his arms, sleeping. He kissed her cheek before pulling her even closer to him, before joining her in slumber.

Lord of Bones

Lily’s eyes opened in the gloom, soulful emeralds within the choking darkness. The beautiful redhead stood up groggily, desperately trying to remember the last thing she could.

Eyes, crimson with hate…

A cold, mirthless voice…

Stand aside…

Take me instead!

Avada Kedavra!

Looming over a crib…

HARRY!

Lily’s eyes widened with terror, frantically searching the darkness. There was nothing there, not even a scrap of fabric. It was literally bereft of life.

Lily? LILY? yelled a familiar voice, worry tainting it. James Potter leapt out of the darkness, searching the gloom until his eyes fell on the redhead. Relieved, he embraced his wife, buryinghis face in her hair. I thought I lost you, he whispered.

Where is he, James?!

He stared at her. Lily?

Where’s our baby? WHERE’S HARRY?!

For the first time in twenty-one years, theclaw of true fear gripped James Potter. He released his wife and looked around the stifling gloom, reaching out through the familial bonds of magic and realizing he couldn’t even sense his child. The color drained out of hisface as he opened his mouth to yell.

Your child lives.

Three figures appeared from the gathering dark. The first was a skeletally thin figure in a cowled black robe, its face shielded by the heavy hood and wielding a silver-bladed scythe. The second was a white-robed young blonde man with a serene face, massive wings of pure light extending from his shoulders. The third was a dark-haired man in a red-black Muggle business suit, a sardonic smirk on his thin lips, black wings stretching from his back.

Like all those before you, you stand before the outcome of your paths. Whether for good or for ill, you have paved your roads and now you come to your final destination.

The hood fell back, revealing a bare skull.

Me.

You’re… Death, then? asked James uncertainly.

That is what you have termed me.

The white-robed blonde stepped forward, a blue gate springing up behind him. Your choices have ensured your asylum inthe Celestial Realms. Please, step through the gate.

What about Harry?! shrieked Lily.

Harry, Harry, Harry… isn’t that kid who gets a really fucked up life? asked the dark winged man, turning to his compatriots. They shrugged.

What do you mean? asked James, dread in his voice.

A briefcase appeared in the dark man’s hand. He opened the container, flicking through a set of papers until he pulledout one marked with a red dot. Ah, here it is… Harry Potter.

Lily and James perked up.

Lessee here… left in a non-magical neighborhood by some Dumbledore fellow… brought up by some Dursley bloke—

What?!

had his parents degraded… called a freak for eleven years… forced to live in a cupboard… starved and endured emotional and physical abuse… forced to act as an unpaid housekeeper… wow, this kid’s like the prime candidate for the Why I Became an Evil Overlord contest; all this in the first eleven years of his life too!

Lily and James trembled, though whether it was from sorrow or rage they couldn’t tell.

… Befriends some jealous git because he’s the only one who treats him like a friend… saves a Hermione Granger from being flattened by a troll… nearly gets eaten by a three headed dog… emotionally abused by some Snivellus — sorry, Severus Snape person, almost dies at the hands of a Janus wannabe… this is at eleven by the way, he added, turning to the trembling couple.

Second year… imprisoned like an animal in this Dursley place… introduced to some Weasley people (more on them later, by the way) … ostracized by school because he can talk to snakes — nifty talent, that … saves some fangirl from being killed by a sixteen year oldand his giant snake in some Chamber of Secrets place…

Third Year… some wrongly convicted fellow — Sirius Black — turns out to be his godfather… Forth Year… gets stuck in a near-fatal tournament… almost barbecued by a dragon… Weasley fellow turns on him as does half the school, except for this Granger person… watches his friend die and becomes an ingredient for this Dark Lord fellow’s resurrection…

He looked up from the papers, somewhat bemused. Fate and Destiny really have it out for this kid, eh?

When haven’t they? asked the blonde man acerbically.

Lily was silently crying.

The diabolic man went back to reading. Fifth year… severe emotional trauma… gets put on trial for defending himself… tortured in class… mindraped by this Snape git… Dumbledore person has severe inability to grasp basic psychology… godfather gets killed… Granger person injured and Harry blames himself… Sixth year… severe Amortentia dosage courtesy of fangirl (this Ginny Weasley bint) and egged on by fangirl’s mother… watches Dumbledore fellow get killed… Granger suddenly turns into the harpy from hell for no reason… Seventh year… gets betrayed by Weasley fellow again… general stupid stuff… Elder Wand nonsense… wins in a ridiculously stupid manner…

He looked up. Lucifer, are they even trying anymore?! I mean, the kid ends up marrying the fangirl (who ends up being a copy of her mother), gets a dull job, and has an unsatisfactory sex-life. Where’s the fun in corrupting these sort of people?

The celestial looked thoughtful. Wasn’t there a particular thread where he ended up with that Granger girl?

Actually, he ends up with a harem in that.

They turned to stare incredulously at Death.

… What?

Send us back!

Three sets of eyes set on the determined couple. I’m not going to let my baby endure life with my sister and her husband, nor will I let him be used like that! Send us back! Lily shouted.

That is not an option.

Without a word, the young mother stalked towards Death and whispered something into his ear.

The skeleton actually turned pale.

Three steps to the right and jump up. You’ll end up in your bodies. whimpered the Reaper. Following his instructions, the couple vanished.

Celestial and fiend turned to stare incredulously at Death, who was shaking slightly.

Look at it this way — we get to kick Fate and Destiny in the balls.

The opposites shrugged, before the fiend spoke up. Luc’s never going to believe me when I tell him this.

You think the boss upstairs will?

Good point.

Lord of Bones

Hermione whimpered into her pillow even as the events of the day caught up to her, each and every incident burning itself into her mind. Even while in her soft bed in the Potter estate, she simply could not sleep.

For the past twenty four hours, she had been an unwitting (although not unwilling) voyeur to her hosts’ extremely active sex-life. She buried her head into her pillow, unsuccessfully trying to blot out the three times she had walked into Harry and Daphne.

The first time had been what she termed the ‘living room incident’. While that, in itself, had not been too out of the ordinary — they were a young married couple after all, Daphne’s comment had her blushing for the next few hours. The second incident was what she termed the ‘kitchen fiasco’, where Harry showed off practical applications of his Parseltongue talent on his wife. She was fairly sure Daphne had not been expecting that, given that the beautiful brunette’s face alternated between extreme shock and extreme pleasure when Harry gave his demonstration.

The one that had her reeling however, was the library incident. She had been watching wide-eyed, from the shadow of a bookshelf, as Harry pinned Daphne to a bookshelf, tore off her shirt and knickers and shagged her senseless.

She idly wondered if it was even humanly possible to have that much stamina. Ron had been quick to come, but Harry just seemed insatiable. It certainly explained Daphne’s demeanour whenever they she bumped into her in the Ministry hallways, not to mention Harry’s perpetually smug smile nowadays.

She shook herself out of it.

She could readily admit she was in love with the young Lord of House Potter. However, watching the lovers enjoying themselves carnally was straining her ability to get over him. As if that wasn’t bad enough, her mind insisted on replaying the scenes over and over again. Everytime the image of Daphne sucking Harry off appeared, her mind would substitute herself in Daphne’s place; when Harry was eating out Daphne, she would imagine herself in Daphne’s place and everytime Harry shagged Daphne, it would be her he was shagging… 

She flinched, feeling her nipples harden and a familiar wet heat in her lower body. Hermione rose from the bed, her mind working furiously.

They were all coincidences. Or were they?

Hermione’s eyes widened as the realization struck.

Daphne knew. She knew Hermione had been there. The Slytherin had been looking straight at her when Harry and her were shagging. But why?

Hermione bit her lip as the images came back to her, nearly overpowering her rationality. The Gryffindor drew upon all her Gryffindor courage — there was only one way to settle the images.

Get the real deal.

She padded out of her room quietly, making her way to the adjacent doorway and slipping inside. She closed the door silently before turning her attention to the sleeping couple that inhabited the room. It was fairly obvious that both Harry and Daphne were nude under the sheet that covered them. Harry had an arm looped around Daphne’s waist possessively, while Daphne had her face buried in Harry’s neck, an arm thrown over his chest.

Hermione inched over slowly, gently pulling away the blanket from Harry’s frame. The Gryffindor licked her lips, taking her time in admiring Harry’s leanly muscled frame; a stark contrast to Ron’s fading, washed-out form. Her eyes traveled to the apex of his thighs. She positioned herself between his legs, before gently brushing a kiss on Harry’s limp cock. She gently brought it into her mouth, licking and sucking even as it began to swell in her mouth.

Hermione finally pulled away to avoid getting choked, fully taking in a close-up view of Harry’s large, almost-angrily throbbing cock, glistening with her saliva. She brushed a kiss against the purple cockhead before drawing him into her mouth once again, using her right hand to jack off what she couldn’t swallow while her left hand was preoccupied with her own dripping pussy.

Harry groaned. She froze, cock still in her mouth.

The young man opened his eyes blearily, having been jolted awake by the pleasurable sensation of the blowjob. He leaned back, gently thrusting his hips into the warm mouth before realizing that his wife was still sleeping in his arms. His eyes shot open.

Who… ?

Then he noticed the mane of brown hair and the brown eyes that were fixed on his own, a look of timid determination in them. Hermione? he whispered. A throaty chuckle cut off his next words as Daphne leaned forward, obviously awake.

Greedy little minx, aren’t you? she whispered teasingly, before turning back to her husband. Fuck her brains out, stud. She gently disengaged herself from Harry’s arms, leaving the bed and walking towards the shower.

Hermione recovered from her shock, going back to her previous preoccupation. She pulled away from Harry’s cock, dragging her tongue along its length. She sqeaked with shock when Harry spun her around with a flick of his hand, her dripping nether lips directly in frontof his face. Harry gently ran his fingers along her wet pussy even as she moaned around his cock. Her moan turned into a shriek as Harry impaled her with two of his fingers, rhythmically finger-fucking her even as her lips and tongue wrapped around his cock.

Harry pulled her into his face, his mouth and tongue hungrily devouring her even as he fucked her mouth. He nipped at her clit, elicting a muffled scream of pleasure. He resumed his assault on her lower lips, his tongue penetrating her pussy while she intensified her assault on his cock. He hissed out her name in release while her juices overflowed into his mouth. She hungrily swallowed the hot jets of cum that he pumped into her mouth, savoring the salty taste even as some pearl-white strands dripped down her throat. She pulled away from the still hard erection, savoring her own orgasm.

Harry spun her around and kissed her savagely, their tongues duelling. He all but raped her mouth, his hands buried in her hair and groping her breast. He broke the kiss, pressing soft nips down to her shoulder before descending to her left breast and suckling. Hermione held his head to her breast, whimpering as he suckled her hard nipple while his other hand disengaged from her hair to toy with her clit. She mewled out his name.

That was his breaking point. He pinned her under him, drawing a surpised squeal.

Spread your legs, he hissed, his eyes almost glowing. Hermione smirked. Make me, she whispered into his ear.

Don’t play games with me, love, he hissed unless you want me to fuck you like an animal.

Hermione smirked. That’s a nice thought, Harry, she said, pressing herself against him; but since you asked so nicely…  With that, she spread her legs, allowing Harry to settle between them. He stroked her pussy lips with his cock, enjoying her moans, before he buried himself in her with a single thrust.

Hermione shrieked at the sensation of being filled, triggering another orgasm just as Harry began to gently thrust. So big…  she whimpered.

Harry began to thrust slowly, gritting his teeth at Hermione’s near virginal tightness. Dammit Harry, just fuck me! she screeched. He obliged. They didn’t notice Daphne walk in, having abandoned her nightgown. She perched at the side of the bed, watching Hermione with amazement.

Is that how I look like? she wondered silently, reading the ecstasy in Hermione’s face. Her hand slipped between her own legs, gently stroking as she watched her husband speed up his thrusts, silently watching Hermione dig her fingernails into Harry’s back.

Hermione yowled, shrieking out her lover’s name just as he bellowed his orgasm. He thrust into her erratically, each thrust bringing a jet of white-hot cum as her pussy constricted itself around his cock. He finally pulled out as his wife came, a soft moan springing from her mouth. Harry positioned himself between the two women, the exhaustion catching up to him even as he pulled his lovers closer to him. Hermione nuzzled his hard chest. I love you Harry, she murmured sleepily, only for her head to snap back up in shock at her inadverdent confession. Harry smiled and kissed her lips softly.

 ‘Love you too, Hermione. he murmured. He tightened his grip on his suddenly quiet wife.  ‘Love you, Daph, he murmured, before finally succumbing to sleep.

Across their lover’s chest Daphne and Hermione silently gazed at each other. He loves you so much it’s almost frightening, said Hermione softly. Daphne’s lips quirked upwards, It’s the same way he loves you, she said quietly, gazing fondly at Harry’s face. The sleeping Unspeakable tugged them closer to him, almost possessively.

Y’know, I almost feel sorry for the poor guy, said Daphne, Hermione giving her a curious look. Between the two of us, we’ll run him ragged, she clarified, before snuggling into her husband’s neck. Hermione chuckled before finally allowing sleep to catch up to her, a smile on her face.

Lord of Bones

I don’t know where this came from, but I was inspired after reading yet another fic where Hermione finds Ron cheating on her, runs to a distant Harry for comfort, then reveals she’s in love with him and then an idyllic romance starts.
Bleh.
It’s just a paragraph, but I think it would fit a bitter, disillusioned Harry.

Harry trembled, his hands clenching into fists. How long had it been since he had yearned to hear those words? How long had it been since she’d spurned his love? How long had it been since he had triumphed over his feelings?

He turned to Hermione, whose hopeful expression faltered at the blank look on Harry’s face.

I am no-one’s second best. he said.

Then he was gone.

Continuation, Seel’vor style
I’d see the next part as something like this:

Harry awoke, a warm weight pressing against his chest. Had this been a year ago, he’d have leant back and enjoyed the comforting sensation… but this was not a year ago. He’d been alone for so long, it now felt unnatural to have someone make physical contact with him.

His eyes shot open, spotting the oh-so-familiar bushy brown hair of his ex-best friend. Okay… what in the name of Merlin’s massive member(thanks Clell!) is she doing down here? More importantly, why the hell is she in my bed? He reached out and prodded her on the shoulder, hard.

Mwha? Hermione mumbled. Early…

Not bothering to consider her comfort (why the hell should I? She ignored mine) Harry pulled away and stood up, wincing as his scabbed over wounds broke open, weeping puss onto the floor. Great… that’ll be a bitch to clean.

Hermione! He shouted. Wake the fuck up!

Hermione shot up, looking around the room in a panic. She relaxed slightly when she saw Harry. Oh, it’s you… are you feeling okay?

Harry slowly raised an eyebrow. I’m sorry? Why do you care?

Eh? She slumped slightly. Harry, I know that we’ve not really talked recently…

 ‘Recently’? You consider almost a year of being marginalised ‘recent’? You’ve barely spoken to me ever since you started gobbling Ron’s knob.

She winced at the crude, but accurate description. I… I know, Harry, and I’m sorry about that.

Are you? How nice for you. Harry replied sarcastically. Now that we’ve shared this riveting conversation, answer me a question; what the fuck are you doing down here, and why the hell were you in my bed? And more importantly; why were you naked?

You… you were injured, and really cold. Sharing body heat helps.

Harry shivered. There isn’t a scouring charm powerful enough, and certainly not enough soap in the world to scrub the taint of Ron off you… why would I want that near me?

Hermione’s eyes flooded with tears. That wasn’t very nice, Harry.

Wasn’t it? Oh, how dreadful of me! I really must take other people’s feelings into account, mustn’t I? After all, I might end up lying to someone, or… no… wait… that’s you and the ginger whinger. He turned, and started to walk into the small bathroom.

Harry, wait… we need to talk.

His head reappeared round the door frame. No. You need to talk. I need to piss. You can see yourself out.

Lord of Bones

Hermione Granger looked at the message on her desk, surprise rising in her at its contents.

Need to talk. Be there in 5 min — HP & DP

Quickly, the young woman conjured up a mirror, checking her cinammon curls and makeup, making sure nothing was out of place. She stiffened, then berated herself; dispelling the mirror as she did so. It’s just Harry and Daphne! she reminded herself, surpressing the envy at the Slytherin’s name. While she was happy for her best friend — he deserved it after the war against Lord Voldemort — there would always be a part of her that resented his happiness, especially considering that it wasn’t her Harry had found happiness with. The fantasies weren’t helping — mildly put, Ron was an inadequate lover; often leading to Hermione having to finish the job herself. That she got herself off by imagining Harry and herself in intimate positions was only part of the problem; lately she had been fantasizing about both Harry and Daphne! A knock on the door snapped her out of her melancholy. Enter! she called out.

Clad in a dark shirt and trousers, a black cloak around his lean muscled frame,  the man that stepped in was familiar to her; a young man with eyes of the death curseand messy black hair. At his side was a young woman with dark hair and ice-blue eyes, wearing a silver mantle that emphasized her figure. Harry and Daphne Potter. Hermione quelled the envy and jealousy that suddenly raged within her at the sight of the elaborate wedding bands around their fingers. Her eyes widened fractionally at her visitors’ state of dress. Daphne was flushed, her lips swollen while her hands attempted to set her skirt properly. Harry’s shirt was halfway unbuttoned, his hair even messier than usual. She resisted the urge to drool — or worse — at the sight of Harry’s chest, wondering how it would feel with her breasts crushed againsthis hard chest. She shook out of her thoughts, not noticing the slight smile on  Daphne Potter’s face at her reaction.

Harry, Daphne, she greeted, plastering a false smile on her face.  Harry gave hera lopsided grin that made her flush while Daphne smirked. Hermione, he said warmly. Allow me to extend my congratulations on your promotion. You deserved it. The sincerity in his voice made her flush with pleasure — something that drew Daphne’s close attention and a slight, unnoticed smile fromthe beautiful witch.

Harry drew a deep breath, drawing strength from the presence of his wife. Chief Auror — Hermione, he began awkwardly. I realize that what I’m about to say is, well… hard to swallow, here he faltered, looking to Daphne for support. The brunette leaned forward and spoke quietly, What my husband is trying to say is that your fiancé is cheating on you.

The silence was so thick that it could be cut with a knife.

And then; … what? N-no! You’re lying! Please say you’re lying! this last part came out in a whimper. Harry stood up and gently leaned forward. I’m sorry, Hermione, he whispered, guilt settling in him as his first love buried her face in her hands, her body shakingwith sobs. Daphne gently tugged her husband away. Wait outside, love. Letme handle this.

Harry nodded, gently kissed his wife and stepped out of the room. Daphne turned to Hermione. I know it’s hard to believe, but this will hopefully change your perspective of Weasley. The Slytherin drew out the Orb of Recall and placed it in front of Hermione, before suddenly embracing her. Hermione stiffened at the sensation, feeling arousal rise in he at the sensation of Daphne’s breasts against hers, their bodies touching. I know that we haven’t been the best of friends, Hermione, but… you were always there for Harry. If you ever need a sympathetic shoulder to cry on, or arms to hug you tight… Harry and I are here for you. Our door is… well, we’re always open for you. The suggestive tone in Daphne’s voice was unmistakeable. Hermione watched dumbfounded as Daphne sauntered out of the room, a sway to her hips.

Daphne met her husband outside Hermione’s office, pacing impatiently. She gently embraced her husband, murmuring Let’s go home, stud. Harry looped his arm around his wife’s waist and they vanished in a swirl of black-and-emerald flame. Harry missed the smirk on his lover’s face as she contemplated Hermione’s reaction to some of the more… interesting memories.

In her office, Hermione looked at the innocent-looking orb on her desk, her tears spent. The brown-haired beauty reached out and activated the artifact, her curiousity warring with the devastation she felt.

She watched the scene play out, her emotions going through a roller-coaster. After the scene faded, Hermione stood up. It wasn’t despair or heartbreak that she felt.

It was a demonic rage that would have made Lord Voldemort cringe.

Know my place?! Don’t deserve it?! Place for men?! Ronald Weasley, you fucking sexist bastard! And you have the gall to cheat on me with Lavender?! Lavender ‘ Broomstick’ Brown?! she screeched to the empty office, the innate rage manifesting as white hot flames she put out with an agitatedwave of her wand.

Then, she froze.

Wait a minute…  she muttered to herself. The memory had been set to start at that point. If she rewound it… 

Hermione reactivated the orb and mentally commanded it to start at the beginning. The magic of the artifact complied, and Hermione’s jaw dropped at the resulting image.

Daphne Potter whimpered softly as her husband suckled at her neck, his left handtearing away the buttons of her blouse, reaching in to gently massage a large, firm breast.

Hermione unconsciously began mimicking Harry’s movements, unbuttoning her robe to massage her own sensitive breasts. She sat transfixed at the Potters’ antics, jealously noting that even ten years of marriage hadn’t cooled their obvious ardour. She watched as Harry brought Daphne to the room, their activities getting more heated. Her analytical mind was fixated on the lean muscles Harry boasted, along with Daphne’sown toned body, wondering what it would be like waking up cuddled to a hard chest and being wrapped in a warm embrace; something Daphne no doubt enjoyed with Harry. Her eyes were transfixed on Harry’s obvious enjoyment of Daphne’s breasts while Daphne reached to massage his erection. At that, Hermione froze, taking in Harry’s cock, stunned at the size of it. How does that fit in her? How would that fit in me?

Even after the lovers were forced to seperate in the memory, Hermione’s own imagination ran wild. With one hand’s fingers tugging at a nipple, the other hand reached down past the trimmed curls at the junction of her thighs, gently stroking her lower lips. Being fucked by Harry against the wall, sucking Harry off, Harry eating her out while she gave him a blowjob… 

Her fingers slipped into her warmth, her mind furiously working. Daphne eating her out while Harry took Daphne, her eating Daphne out while Harry fucked her, sharing Harry’s cock with Daphne orally, Harry giving her a tit-fuck while pleasuring Daphne… 

The jumble of erotic fantasies culminated in Hermione’s yowl of pleasure as she experienced the most intense orgasm she had experienced yet. She cleaned herself with a wave of her wand, pushing away the fantasies. They’re married, they’re married, they’re married… 

She then cleaned her mind with a wave of her mental wand, replacing the fantasies with a different type of lament.

Ron! You bastard! You bastard! You bastard!

With that, she disapparated, taking the orb with her.

Lord of Bones

I did it for the lulz.

Daphne Greengrass leaned back into her fiancé’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he nuzzled the top of her head fondly. Harry’s fingers toyed with the hem of her black shirt, often tracing small patterns on the bare skin of her sides. Daphne mewled contentedly as the Gryffindor Golden Boy nuzzled his way to the curve of her neck, gently biting the soft skin he found there.

Harry’s hands moved upwards, cupping his lover’s full breasts through her shirt, gently massaging the firm orbs. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, stimulating the peaks of her breasts. The dark-haired Slytherin beauty smiled softly, arching her back as the warm bulge pressed into the base of her spine.

Someone’s feeling randy today, she said playfully, tilting her head upwards. Harry chose not to answer, instead meeting her offered lips with his own. He broke the kiss, only to reverse her position, pressing his chest against her breasts. Daphne’s wandering hands tugged at the base of his shirt, grinding her pelvis against his erection.

Harry groaned against her lips.

Then someone knocked the door.

Ignore it, muttered Harry.

The knocking became more insistent.

Daphne sighed irritably. We’ll continue this later, love, she promised, unstraddling her lover and opening the door, before walking out to deal with the intrusion, shutting the door behind her. Harry grumbled, watching the sway of Daphne’s hips as she left the room, and unsuccessfully willing his erection to die down.

Mother, hissed Daphne as soon as the door closed, Couldn’t this have waited?

Anastasia Greengrass smirked, taking in her daughter’s swollen lips, flushed face and erect nipples straining against her shirt.

Having fun, dear? she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daphne growled.

Dammit mother, I haven’t seen Harry in over a week and you drag me out here just as things were heating up just to ask if I’m having fun?!

How tragic. My poor, sex-deprived daughter, said Anastasia sarcastically. Daphne snorted.

I’d like to see you go from marathon fuck sessions every day to not getting any in a week, muttered Daphne under her breath, eyeing the door longingly. Anastasia pretended not to hear that.

Besides, it’s time for Harry to pass my test, said Anastasia casually. Daphne frowned. Test? What test?

Then her eyes widened.

You are not fucking my fiancé, mother! she snapped.

Sorry dear, said Anastasia cheerfully. You know the rules!

Daphne twitched indignantly. It’s a ridiculous rule!

It’s still a rule.

Daphne glared. You’re just jealous that I’m getting laid!

Daphne, said Anastasia patiently, You look like a younger, dark-haired version of me. Of course you’re going to get laid.

Someone’s modest, hissed Daphne. Then she sighed.

I’ll go and explain it to Harry, she said tiredly. She opened the door and stepped in, closing it lightly.

Harry looked up, noticing the expression on Daphne’s face. Daph, is something wrong? he asked warily.

Daphne said nothing. She walked up to her fiancé and slipped next to him, cupping his cheek and watching his face carefully. Harry, please don’t get mad, she said timidly.

Mad at what?

Daphne took a deep breath. There is … loophole in marriage laws which allow the future mother-in-law to have one night with the prospective son-in-law to determine his… suitability, a law which my mother has chosen to exploit… 

Harry stayed quiet, then asked, Daphne, are you telling me that your mother wants to have sex with me?

Daphne nodded.

Harry blinked. You’re not joking, are you?

The Slytherin shook her head.

And you’re sure about this?

Daphne’s reply was to kiss him and snog him senseless, before breaking the kiss for air. Harry tugged her closer to him.

Daphne looked at him. I trust you, she whispered before getting up.

Just as she was about to leave, she looked over her shoulder, a familiar smirk on her lips. Screw her brains out, stud.

Then she was gone and her mother walked in.

Anastasia Greengrass smiled, taking in her future son-in-law’s leanly muscled frame. Hello Harry, she purred.

Harry looked at her neutrally. Mrs. Greengrass.

The Greengrass matriarch toyed with the belt of her robe, watching Harry through ice-blue eyes. What’s the matter, Harry? Where’s the Gryffindor bravery and machismo? Or are you just a scared little boy?

Harry stood up and stalked towards her predatorily, like a panther. Your daughter said the same thing when I asked her to go to Hogsmeade with me for the first time.

And what did you do? she asked, watching his hands fiddle with her robe tie.

I snogged her against the wall until she said yes. The she pulled me down and snogged me after that. Harry undid the tie-knot, letting the garment fall.

Anastasia Granger, like her daughter, was a knockout. Harry mentally catalogued the similarities and differences between mother and daughter. Daphne had inherited her mother’s full, firm breasts, long legs and lithe figure. The only differences he could note were that Daphne’s hair was dark and wavy compared to her mother’s blonde and that Anastasia’s nipples were dark where Daphne’s were a deep pink.

Anastasia looped her arms around Harry’s neck. Like what you see? she whispered huskily, before mashing her lips against the younger man’s own. Harry kissed her back just as furiously, his tongue battling hers for dominance. He groped her arse with one hand, squeezing it harshly.

Anastasia broke away to moan out loud, until Harry nipped his way down her neck and shoulder, biting at the spot he knew Daphne loved. His reply was a loud whimper. He pulled her up against the wall, suckling her right nipple while toying with the left. Anastasia stroked his hair, cradling his head as he gently tugged on the nipple with his teeth, eliciting a loud cry of pleasure from her. He switched to the other nipple soon after, Anastasia’s hands fisting in his hair.

Harry continued with his ministrations, making his way down her body. He finally knelt down in front of her, allowing the mature beauty to straddle his shoulders. He nuzzled his face into Anastasia’s sleek blonde curls before using his tongue to trace the length of her dripping pussy. The Greengrass matriarch yowled as Harry thrust his tongue into her, lapping at her slit like a hungry cat, two fingers pistoning in and out of her tight, clenching pussy. He suckled her clit harshly, laving the sensitive nub with the flat of his tongue. He debated using his Parseltongue techniques on her, but decided against it.

With a final ear-splitting screech, Anastasia came all over Harry’s face. The Boy-Who-Lived drank in her orgasm hungrily, her soft contented mewls spurring him on.

Finally, he let her go and stood up. Anastasia slumped to the floor, breathing harshly.

She looked up. Her daughter’s lover loomed over her, a strange glint in his emerald eyes.

She took the hint.

The Greengrass matriarch unbuckled Harry’s belt and tugged the zipper downwith her teeth. Trembling, she pulled down his trousers and boxers, releasing his erection.

Anastasia’s mouth ran dry at the sight of Harry’s large cock, throbbing with his heartbeat. Timidly, she wrapped her hand around his hot dick, flinching at the heat and gently stroking him. Where’s your bravado now, Mrs. Greengrass? growled Harry, making a fist in her hair and tugging her forward, Suck. Harry commanded.

Anastasia timidly licked the head of his erection, sampling the salty taste. Then, slowly, she began to bob her head along his length though she was not able to take all of him in her mouth. She relished the first cock she had since the death of her husband, laving it with her tongue and gently massaging the heavy sack behind it. Harry encouraged her. Good girl, he murmured, falling back to the compliment he’d use on Daphne. It had the expected effect as Anastasia increased her tempo, bobbing in sync with Harry’s thrusts.

Fuck! Harry hissed. Just like Daph! Cocksucking pro!

Anastasia would’ve grinned if Harry hadn’t been fucking her mouth. Abruptly, he pulled away from her mouth, leaving a stream of saliva that connectedthe head of his cock to her lips. She mewled disappointedly.

Harry pulled her up, marching her towards the bed. The blonde woman crawled onto the bed, lying back and watching Harry with half lidded eyes and spreading her legs invitingly.

Harry knelt before her dripping entrance, running the angry-purple head ofhis cock along her pussy lips and teasing her with shallow thrusts.

D-Don’t tease — AH! Harry drove into Anastasia’s tight entrance, burying his cock to the hilt. Harry watched her expression with a sense of triumph, her cry of So big! in his ears. He alternated his lovemaking, sometimes using long, shallow thrusts, other times quick, powerful ones. He drove into her again and again, gritting his teeth against the pull of her tight pussy. Anastasia peppered his face with kisses, grabbing on to his shoulders and urging him forward.

Anastasia shrieked as her orgasm tore into her; the powerful muscular contractions nearly sending Harry over the edge as well. Calling on all his reserves of willpower, Harry continued fucking the woman under him, reversing their positions so that she was bouncing on his lap. Calloused hands massaged full breasts, while black and blonde curls met with every slam of their hips.

Harry pushed himself up, his thrusts getting more erratic. Come! he commanded.

And her orgasm struck, taking him as well. Burst after burst of hot cum fired into her body, the tight muscles milking him for all that he was worth. Finally, he pulled out of his lover, letting the last few spurts land on her stomach.

Anastasia fell on him, gasping heavily before nipping Harry’s lean, muscled chest. She kissed him again and then let her head fall on his chest, listening to the thrum of his heartbeat.

She froze when she felt something prod at her stomach. You’re still hard? she asked, shocked delight in her voice. He caught her before she could slide his cock into her.

One round only, he reminded her, smirking at the shock in her face.

But—

Send Daphne in, Mrs. Greengrass.

Anastasia pouted and then got up, heading towards the door, yelping as Harry smacked her arse playfully. Oh, and Mrs. Greengrass? If you want to join Daphne and me, just ask us.

The Greengrass matriarch flushed as she headed out the door, heedless of her nudity and the still-warm cum trickling down her thigh.

Daphne smirked as she walked past her mother, dressed in a very short nightgown. She closed the door gently, heading towards her nude lover while slipping off the nightdress. She crawled on top of him, trading kisses and nips while he slipped his cock inside her, readying himself for a round of lovemaking instead of mindless fucking.

Neither of them got much sleep that night.

Lord of Bones

He leaned back into the massive black seat, idly flicking through the pages of the massive tome in his hands. His free hand occupied itself with petting the majestic raven on the armrest of the seat. Finally, he closed the book, shrinking it and returning it to his trunk before giving the compartment a cursory look-over.

It had taken him a while to find a compartment suited to his taste. This one; far from the general chaos of the train, immediately won his approval (and that of Muninn; if the raven’s excited cawing was anything to judge by). He looked up, hearing voices outside the compartment. He sighed with irritation, summoning another spellbook even as he heard voices outside his compartment.

Harry Potter’s on the train! The Boy- Who- Lived? Has anyone seen him? Are you sure he’s here? I heard he’s six feet tall! I’ll bet he’s a Gryffindor!

Harry closed his eyes in irritation, feeling the onset of a headache behind his eyelids. The last thing he needed were drooling gits with hero-worshiping tendencies clamoring for his attention. The freckled, red-headed girl and the family he had passed by in the station were prime examples of those types, especially with her gawking and talking about seeing him in person.

Muninn cawed, as though he was laughing. Harry sent his raven a dirty look. He was jolted out of the staring contest he’d involved himself in by the compartment door opening. He looked up.

A pale blonde boy swaggered in, followed by two vaguely simian boys, obviously his bodyguards. Behind him were an olive-skinned Italian boy and a brunette with a haughty look on her face, the former walking with a sedate pace while the latter emulated the blonde.

I heard Harry Potter’s on this train, but this compartment’s obviously empty. It’s just fortunate! said the blond, his nasal voice rather irritating. Harry noticed the Italian boy roll his eyes heavenwards in mild disgust.

I can’t decide if you suffer from blindness, stupidity or both. Or are you simply unable to look past your own nose? he said quietly, drawing the blonde’s attention to him. He noticed the olive-skinned boy hide a smile behind his hand. The blonde looked directly at Harry, a sneer barely hiding the stunned shock on his features even as the dark-haired girl released a scandalized gasp.

Nothing else to say? In that case, kindly leave, continued Harry, his soft voice unnerving all but the dark-skinned boy, whose smirk widened. The haughty looking girl butted in, How dare you!? Don’t you know—

Hi there, cuz! Long time no see! came a cheerful voice, followed by a pink-haired young woman with a snake crest on her upper robe; her slim hand clapping down on the blonde’s shoulder. The boy — her cousin — squawked angrily.

You half-muggle mutt! I— He was cut off when the older witch grabbed him by the lapel of his robe. I’d keep a civil tongue if I were you, cousin. If I find you harrassing anyone else on this train, you will regret it, hissed the witch, her cheer forgotten. She straightened herself, releasing the suddenly paler boy, before turning her attention to Harry, who had so far only raised an eyebrow at her sudden shift in personality.

She took in the cultured appearance and open book, as well as the raven. She grinned, leaned forward and ruffled his hair, earning an indignant ‘oi!’. An ickle firstie! she cackled, and a shoe-in for Ravenclaw or Slytherin, to boot! Name’s Tonks, firstie! I’d stay and chat, but I’m going to have to deal with my cousin first! Have fun!

With that, the strange witch — Tonks — swept out of the train compartment, dragging the blonde out by the ear, followed by the apelike boys and the brunette girl, who seemed to be in shock. Only the Italian boy remained.

Harry silently gauged him, taking in the refined clothes and calm presence of the boy. He realized that the boy was assessing him as well.

They made eye-contact, silently watching each other warily.

The Italian boy smirked and held out his hand. Blaise Zabini.

Harry took it. Harry Potter.

His response was a raised eyebrow. You’re not what I expected you to be, Zabini said softly.

Expectations often lead to disappointments, replied Harry.

Zabini smirked. Perhaps, he said.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, as the two inhabitants of the compartment enjoyed their solitude. Blaise busied himself with a book of charms (his mother’s, he explained) while Harry dissected his grimoire, replenishing his spells. The only interruptions came from outside the compartment, where rumors concerning Harry, several children from Pureblood families and the school itself were discussed.

The train stopped. They were at the school. Harry opened Muninn’s cage, allowing the raven to fly in. It’s only temporary, he assured the great bird calmly despite Zabini’s chuckle.

The first thing Harry heard on leaving the train was a booming voice, calling for the first years in a heavily accented brogue. He and Zabini got on the boat, following the large man’s instructions. Three others were with them — a bushy-haired girl, a dark-haired girl with cold blue eyes and a boy with red hair. Over them, a massive castle loomed.

He blocked out the chatter of the bushy-haired girl, who was expounding on the history of the place. His thoughts brought another abode to mind, a citadel of white, red and black, where magic was supreme, deep in the grey ether… He shook himself out of the thought, waving away Zabini’s raised eyebrow.

A tall, stern-looking woman greeted them at the castle’s entrance, introducing herself as Professor Mc Gonagall. After the requisite introduction (which Harry tuned out), she turned to the doors.

Form a straight line and follow me, she instructed.

Harry and Zabini strode in silently, allowing everyone else in first. Harry took in the grand hall, viewing its glowing candles and majestic tables with a sense of detachment. The only thing that truly caught his attention was the enchanted ceiling. He could hear the bushy-haired girl mutter something about Hogwarts: A History.

The floppy, ragged looking hat on the stool in the center of the hall drew his senses in. He could feel the faint aura of transmutation that surrounded the item. That still didn’t prepare him for the ridiculous (in his opinion, anyway) song the thing belted out.

When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted, said Professor Mc Gonagall.

Abbot, Hannah! A blonde girl took the hat.

Hufflepuff!

She was joined by Susan Bones. Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst joined the Ravenclaws even as Lavender Brown joined the Gryffindors. He watched the dark haired, blue-eyed girl ( Daphne Greengrass) join the Slytherins with Millicent Bulstrode and Vincent Crabbe, followed by Gregory Goyle (stupidity sought out stupidity, he supposed, watching the two simian-like boys). The bushy-haired girl ( Hermione Granger) joined the Gryffindors while the blonde from earlier ( Draco Malfoy) swaggered his way to the stool and was proclaimed Slytherin. Inevitably, his name came up.

Potter, Harry!

He walked calmly and surely to the stool, ignoring the whispers but noting the looks of shock on his boatmates and the intruders from the train. He set the hat on his head.

Interesting, very interesting. Power… yes, you have power, and a good dose of ambition too. Brains as well. Wait… what’s this?

Harry nearly jumped at the voice, but kept his cool. He felt the voice speak again, albeit in a hushed tone.

Ah yes, I see now. How truly remarkable. There is only one place for you, Lord of the Black Moon.

Harry didn’t have the time to question those words as the hat spoke up.

SLYTHERIN!

The hall fell silent. Harry pulled off the hat and stood up, even as Mc Gonagall watched with an ashen look on her face. Harry noted the new trim on his robes and the serpent crest on his robe before walking to the direction of his new table.

Then, midway through his walk, he heard a clap.

Blaise Zabini.

Then the Slytherin table erupted, cheers and catcalls echoing around the room. As he took his seat, Harry chanced a look at the table where those he presumed to be teachers were sitting. A greasy-haired man watched him with an uncertain look, the large man looked as though he just had a heart attack, while the other teachers looked stunned.

The man Harry presumed to be Albus Dumbledore just looked at him, his face fairly disturbed.

Harry smiled mockingly, watching Dumbledore flinch slightly.

He was going to like it here.

Tim Williams

Harry had left the common room and Hermione felt hurt, angry and under it all, curious. He said tit?… what’s going on here? she thought. Some first years were going through to breakfast and she subtly checked herself out in the mirror near the entrance hole.

No, not showing, my robe is loose enough, she thought unarousing thoughts. Snape in his underwear… nothing. Ron eating — her nipples went soft. Well then, off to breakfast it is.

She was heading toward the Great Hall, her bookbag full of the morning’s books and assignments, thinking about a Runes problem, when she heard a hiss from an alcove near the stairs.

Hermione!! Harry whispered. She looked around to see if anyone was watching and sidestepped into the shadowed alcove. What is it, Harry? She had to look up into his eyes, since he had had a growth spurt and was now an inch taller than she. Harry deliberately did not look into her eyes, but at a spot over her head. Harry! I’m here… look at me!! she snapped, angry at his action. I dare not, Hermione, I need your help again, you know how I always count on you.

What is it, did you not finish your potions essay again? Honestly, that boy… No, nothing like that, something’s gone off in my mind, and I can see peoples thoughts, and I don’t know how to stop it… I don’t know what to do, and I dare not look into your eyes, because I will see what you are thinking… She tilted her head, remembering the event earlier that morning and blushed slightly. Oh… well, I guess I will have to adjust my schedule then. She laid a soft hand on his cheek, and drew his face toward herself. Tell me… what am I thinking, Harry? He forced his eyes to focus on hers.

you saw a fantasy of mine this morning in the common?

Harry nodded, blushing.

do you want to see what i am wearing under my robes? i’d be glad to show you…

He was torn between nodding and shaking his head no.

here’s what i’m wearing today, harry…

She concentrated and he saw her getting dressed in her wardrobe, for each girl in the dorm had her own private dressing room / wardrobe. She was standing there, ready to put on her robe. She wore thigh high grey, lacy stockings, held up with a garter charm, the boots Harry had gotten her for her birthday, and nothing else. Harry blushed to his roots, forcing his gaze away from her memory, until a firm, feminine hand forced his eyes back to hers.

i’m yours when you are ready, harry, remember this…

she took his hand, and pressed it to her chest, he felt the rock hard bumps of her nipples.

this doesn’t solve your problem, though, so maybe we should go and see dumbledore, he’s versed in legilimency, and can probably help you.

He nodded, still thinking of what he had seen. Out loud she spoke, Do you think it goes both ways? She absently waved her wand, casting a notice-me-not charm to keep their privacy. It worked, too, until Minerva McGonagall came by. Harry was about to answer when his Head of House stepped into the alcove. She had years of experience seeing through student privacy charms. She was, however, shocked to find her two favorite students hidden in the alcove. Miss Granger, Mr Potter, she started, but Hermione interrupted, while Harry kept his eyes toward the floor. Professor, we are glad you are here, we need help, or rather Harry needs help.

What is it Miss Granger, Mr Potter?

Harry has had some kind of mental / mind magic breakthrough, and can’t seem to bring it under control. The older witch tried to look him in the eyes, but he kept his head firmly down. It seems, he said, that I am having bouts of passive legilimency, and I can see what people are thinking, and to tell the truth, I really don’t want to know what most if not all people are thinking. He examined his shoes. McGonnegal winced, thinking of the hormonal flood that passed for thinking in the halls of the school. Miss Granger, escort Mr. Potter to the anteroom of the Great Hall, I will send the Headmaster to sort him out.

Lord of Bones

Daphne Greengrass- Potter, Slytherin alumnus, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and wife of the current Lord of House Potter, smirked slightly as she stepped out of her husband’s office, buttoning the upper portion of her blouse and extending the length of her skirt as she did so. Harry was always so much fun to tease, even after ten years of marriage and sharing the same bed. She idly wondered how long it would take for him to break and start looking for her.

As she made her way out of the empty room, a powerful ‘bang’ caught her attention. Harry strode out of his office, death-emerald eyes blazing hungrily, a growl making its way through clenched teeth.

Daphne winked at her husband and started down the corridor, a pleased smirk on her face as she mentally counted down. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… 

In that span of time, her husband had crossed the length of the room. He pinned her to the wall, one hand entangled in Daphne’s raven tresses, his right leg gently grinding between her thighs. Daphne moaned.

You little minx, Harry whispered into her ear, his other hand cupping her face. You enjoy tormenting me, don’t you? Dressed up like that… 

The raven-haired beauty smiled slightly. That’s why you love me, she said saucily, tilting her head upwards as her husband’s mouth methers in a hungry kiss. Harry broke the kiss, elicting a disappointed whimper from the Slytherin beauty. Harry laid several gentle kisses along the curve of her cheek and down her neck, tugging aside her blouse to suckle gently at the junction of her neck and shoulder. His left hand tore away the buttons of her blouse, reaching in to gently massage a large, firm breast.

Daphne’s pleasured moans slowly began to build in tone. Harry pulled away the hand that had been entangled in Daphne’s dark hair and murmured a few words, muffled by his wife’s neck. A Silencing charm and a Disillusionment charm draped across the lovers. Harry pulled away from his wife’s grip, drawing a questioning glance from Daphne.

His answering grin was almost serpentine as he literally swept her offher feet, drawing a surprised shriek from Daphne. She snuggled up to her husband’s leanly muscled form as he strode down the corridor while cradling her, looking for a place to continue their marital ‘activities’.

Harry stopped in front of a teak door. Silently, the door swung open and Harry swept in; the door closing behind him with nary a sound. He quickly set his wife down and began resuming their earlier activities; his hands working to divest her of her blouse. He pushed her up against the wall, hishead descending to her firm breasts while her hand cupped the impressive bulge in his trousers, the pad of her thumb gently massaging his erection. Harry responded with a groan and a gentle bite on her nipple.

Daphne’s muffled shriek of pleasure was cut off when the door swung open with a crash. Harry pulled himself from his wife’s chest and shielded her with his body, quickly checking to see whether his spells were still in place. Relieved that the charms hadn’t been dispelled, the Head of the Department of Mysteries looked down at his wife and nodded, only to see a look of fascinated horror on her face as she looked at the pair that strode in.

Harry slowly turned around to see what had caught his wife’s attention. Shock warred with disgust as Ron Weasley stumbled in with an arm around Lavender Brown, his robe half undone. It was easy to see that the youngest male Weasley had let himself go, his gangly form no longer boasting the muscles gained during the war against Lord Voldemort.

Isn’t he engaged to Granger? Daphne asked her husband quietly. Harrynodded, feeling a familiar emotion in his gut. Daphne gently stroked her husband’s arm, relaxing the suddenly tense muscles. Her eyes glittered with understanding and Harry managed a loving smile at her. He turned back as Ron began babbling.

… and now she’s head of the bloody department! I mean she’s just a bookworm! Sure she has a hot body and a great rack, but that’s a job for men! She should be at home like me mum, dealing with the womanly stuff! What does she have that I don’t have?!

Harry tensed at the implied slight against Hermione, his eyes blazing. Daphne held back her husband with a gentle caress on his arm.

A witch’s place is at home! The Ministry is a place for men! rambled Ron, oblivious to the angry siren and her husband as he gently held her from responding to the slight against her gender.

Calm down, love, Harry whispered, stroking her hair gently even as his wife shook with fury.

But you’re different, Lav. You understand, don’t you? You’re a properwitch, Ron blathered to Lavender, the blonde witch giggling. Lemme show how much of a proper witch I am, Won- Won, said the blonde, as she divestedherself of her clothing. Ron followed suit, a goofy smile on his face.

The Potters looked on in shock at the rutting couple, their own ardour cooled (although Daphne silently thanked Lucifer for her husband’s prodigious endownment, especially compared to the Weasley scion’s poor one). Daphne drew an orb from her pocket, letting it glow slightly.

It’s an orb of recall. It records its surroundings so that they can be recalled later on, replied Daphne quietly to her husband’s questioning glance.

After the rutting couple had fallen asleep, the married Potters swept out of the room, their minds trying to absorb what they had just seen.

Lord of Bones

June 1997

The doors of Potter Manor swung open as Harry ran in while cursing like a sailor, Hermione right behind him. She looked at Harry worriedly, torn between fright and consternation at the near-homicidal look on his face. She had never seen Harry this furious before; not even when he found her in his bed and believed she’d betrayed his trust yet again.

She followed Harry, desperately trying to keep up with Harry’s navigation of the Manor, until at last they arrived at the source of the scream.

Hermione blanched, just as her parents came up behind her and recoiled in horror.

The room was a mess, with broken and scattered vases and paintings and overturned furniture. Arthur and Molly Weasley were cowering at the very edge of the room, faces pale and eyes wide. Ron had hidden himself under the dining table, his eyes covered by his hands, while Ginny stood petrified; a look of pure horror on her face. Hermione couldn’t blame her.

From a large hole in the floor, the head and neck of a titanic serpent rose, black hood open and sleek tongue tasting the air. The crimson-gold creston its head identified it as a greater basilisk, and a particularly old and large one at that — by her estimate, it had to be at least sixty feet long. Mercifully, its eyes had a film of skin covering them, though she could tell it wasn’t blind.

But that wasn’t what caught her attention. The beast that was the focus ofall the commotion was in the middle of the room.

Wings like a gigantic bat spread from the huge body of a white goat. A lion’s head roared, while a long, scaly tail crowned with a dragon’s head hissed at the air. Baleful yellow eyes glared down at the intruder into its master’s sanctuary, the claws digging into the ground in obvious agitation.

And pinned underneath the chimera’s foreclaws were the obviously terrifiedforms of Fred and George Weasley, somewhat bruised and bloody, but still alive — though the flames building in the chimera’s maw were prepared to rectify that.

The lion’s mouth opened.

The twins screamed.

Harry’s hand fell on the beast’s mane, yanking it back and provoking a startled yelp from the monster. Enough, Aizagora! he roared. Leave them! Return to your slumber!

As you command.

The chimera folded its wings, shimmered and vanished. Harry turned to the basilisk and hissed a command. The serpent retreated back into the floor, its head bowed in obeisance. For an instant, there was silence as Harry surveyed the ruins of the room, his expression darkening further as the Weasleys huddled around the twins, wailing about safety and generally blowing things out of proportion.

Harry’s eyes blazed with the death-green of the killing curse, his wand raised, black lightning gathering at the tip as he watched the Twins lap up the attention.

Then he froze, as a pair of arms looped around his waist and soft, full breasts pressed into his back. Please Harry, begged Hermione, her breath falling on his neck, they’re not worth it.

Harry let the wand blaze for a few moments before letting it finally fall. A snap of his fingers summoned two small red-skinned humanoids, bat-wingedand snake-tailed. Clean this place, he hissed, before turning around andsweeping out of the room, his rage wrapped around him like a cloak.

 

Dinner was a tense affair that night.

Having learnt the reason why Harry was so angry — the room the Weasleys had inadvertently trashed was his mother’s favorite, before leaving for Godric’s Hollow — Hermione could understand why.

Harry sat at the head of the table, staff leaning against the chair. His face was expressionless, watching the guests with the air of a bored king. Hermione noticed the little signs though; such as the way Harry’s fingers tapped impatiently on the armrests and the clenching and unclenching of his left hand.

The Weasleys hadn’t noticed, though. Ron was alternating between stuffing his face and glancing at her lustfully, Ginny was dreamily staring at Harry, while the Twins were being fawned on by their mother (and enjoying the attention, she noted). Her parents, on the other hand, were watching Harry curiously.

Then Mrs. Weasley spoke up. Harry dear, she said, we really must talk about the sleeping arrangements.

Harry’s eyebrow rose.

It simply isn’t proper for the elders in the House to be delegated to thespare bedrooms. Really Harry, it’s for the best if you bunk with Ron whileArthur and I have the master bedroom. There’s also the issue of the kitchens — those horrid creatures refused me entrance, and I demand to be allowed in! she finished sharply.

Harry looked at her neutrally, but Hermione briefly saw his eyes flash, becoming slightly reptilian. First of all, said Harry calmly, the master bedroom is only usable by the blood of the Lord and Lady of the Manor — in case that was too complex for you to understand, it means that only me, my significant other, our children and our families. Secondly, you are not a Potter, thus the imps refused your entry.

Well then, that’s not a problem! Since my Ginny will allow us permission,we’ll move our bags there immediately!

What does Ginny have to do with this?

You and she are together. It’s only proper that you allow us into the room.

Hermione winced, feeling the temperature drop several degrees. That she was wearing a sleeveless top didn’t help matters. She spared Harry a glance, noticing his hand on his staff.

That wasn’t a good sign.

I have never touched your daughter. Frankly, I have better taste.

Unnoticed by anyone, his eyes flickered towards Hermione as he said that. Molly fumed. How dare you—

No, hissed Harry. How dare you! I have been magnanimous enough to allowyou into my family’s ancestral estate, despite your youngest son’s actionstowards me this last year! I have tolerated your badmouthing of my late godfather and your increasingly puerile efforts to get me and your daughter together simply because you want your hands on my family’s wealth! And what do I get in return?!

Molly stood up. Young man—

My warnings ignored, my trust in your family shattered and my mother’s favorite room ruined! Your idiot children couldn’t wait to see why I specifically ordered that no-one was to enter the chamber and awoke my family’s guardians! I’m warning you, Weasley; push me and I’ll push back!

C’mon Harry—

—it was just a bit—

—of fun. Can’t blame—

—us for being—

—curious.

Harry rose from his chair at that, staff in hand. Black lightning crackled as a bolt slammed between the twins, blasting them out of their chairs. The next time you elect to be curious, I will not intervene. I’ll simply let you die. The Twins paled rapidly.

Harry swept out of the room with that, adding, And Mrs. Weasley? Command me in my own home again and you will regret it.

Then he was gone, as Hermione left the dining room to find him.

Lord of Bones

Hermione woke up from her sleep, blinking blearily at the massive room she found herself in. Her nightgown was on and the clock at her dresser told her it was only eight in the morning. A small framed picture drew her attention, a laughing young woman in a wedding gown being swept around by a man in a tuxedo. The inscription read Harry and Daphne Potter, June 1998 .

Hermione smiled sadly. Yet another thing I’ve missed. Then, her mindcaught up to her surroundings. If this was a picture of Harry and Daphne’s wedding, then… 

She stood up from the bed and padded over to the window, opening it toreveal the green beauty of the Welsh countryside. Draig Cartref. Ancestral home of the Potters and demesne of the Lord and Lady of the House. How did I get here? she wondered; the last thing she remembered being crying herself to sleep in her office.

Ron… 

A moan drew her attention away from her melancholy. She paused, realizing that no-one was there. Then the moan returned, definitely masculine. Hermione blushed, realizing the moan what it was; feeling arousal, desire andenvy well up within her. She also realized the moans were from the next room.

Oh God.

Eerily enough, that was the same sentiment going through the mind of the next room’s occupant. Harry gritted his teeth as he wrapped his hand in his wife’s raven tresses. Daphne smirked, lapping at the tip of her husband’s cock like a great cat, relishing in the power she had over the most powerful man in Britain. Harry’s hand tightened around her hair as she took himin her mouth, teasing the head and length of his massive erection. He resisted the urge to thrust fully into his wife’s hot mouth, barely holding back a groan as she released his cock from her mouth, pressing kisses around his length before sucking him off again.

Harry felt his release building up, fixing his emerald gaze on his wife’s ice-blue eyes. The hunger he saw in his wife’s gaze sent him over the edge. F- Fuck! Daph! He roared out his release, each powerful jet of cum hungrily swallowed. Daphne swallowed her husband’s seed, reluctantly pulling away from her husband’s undiminished erection when he pulled her up and savagely kissed her, tasting himself in her sweet mouth. Daphne’s eyes widened slightly even as she sank into the kiss; Harry usually wasn’t this dominant in bed. He preferred teasing her with tender nips and kisses, driving herto the edge of orgasm before gently making love. This new, savage Harry was a surprise, though not an unwelcome one.

He broke the kiss, leaving her in a slight daze. Harry reversed their positions, pinning her under him, feeling her firm breasts press into his hard chest. He brought his left hand down, skimming past her breasts and flat stomach, past the trimmed triangle of black curls and into her wet heat. Daphne whimpered.

Spread your legs! he hissed into her ear, raw lust in his voice. Daphne shook her head teasingly, the mischief in her eyes fading into a compliant desire as she glimpsed into the almost demonic lust in her husband’s emerald eyes. Now, wife! he snarled, settling himself above her. Daphne complied, feeling Harry’s cock gently stroke her folds. With a savage thrust, he fully buried himself in his wife, relishing her surprised shriek of pleasure as her orgasm massaged his cock with wet heat. Daphne moaned out her husband’s name, already feeling him move through her orgasm. Fuck, he hissed into her ear in the middle of his powerful thrusts, Ten years and you’re still as tight as a virgin! Daphne smiled coyly against his shoulder. It’s all for you, stud, she purred into his ear, before gently moving his head to her breasts. Harry latched on to her right breast, nipping and suckling at the hard pink nipple like a man possessed. Daphne mewled at the sensation, feeling her second release build up from the sensations of her husband’s cock and tongue. Oh God, Harry! she screamed, feeling another rush of white-hot pleasure race through her. Harry gritted his teeth, determined to endure even as he felt Daphne’s impossible tightness constrict around him.

Daphne whimpered as she felt her husband’s thrusts increase in power. Harry, baby, please cum! I’ve been waiting for it all night! Harry grinned into his wife’s breasts. One more, love, he promised, turning his mouthto her left breast, while still playing with the right one. This time, they both tensed, feeling the buildup. Where do you want it love? he gasped into her ear. Inside baby, please! Finally, as Daphne screamed out her release, Harry roared out his. His large cock pulsed in her, firing jets of potent cum even as she rippled around him. Harry reversed their positions as he collapsed, leaving her on his chest. They both gasped for air, Harry gently stroking his wife’s raven hair as he did so. Did I hurt you, love? he asked, concerned. Daphne looked up from where she had been nuzzling his neck, gently kissing him. No baby. It was perfect. Harry smiled.

Daphne looked up mischeviously. Remembered the silencing charms, dear? Harry’s eyes widened, a strangled sound making its way out of his throat. Daphne chuckled. I already handled them until about two hours ago, she added silently. She rose from her husband, elicting a disappointed groan. We’ve got to get dressed. We’ve got to take Hermione’s things today. Harry nodded, before getting up from the bed, heading towards the shower. Daphne tied a robe around her shapely body, silently cleaning her husband’s essence from where it was trickling down her thigh. She walked out of the room and bumped into her houseguest. Daphne took in the flushed look, erect nipples and the way Hermione refused to meet her eyes. She smirked, conjured a robe and gave it to Hermione before walking away.

Phase 1, complete.

Lord of Bones

This is an old fic of mine. You have no idea how much it pained me to type the R/Hr parts. You really don’t.

AU 6^th Year.

November 1996

Harry discreetly stood in the Fat Lady’s shadow, waiting for the giggling couple to enter before sweeping out of the room under the protection of his Invisibility Cloak. He ignored the sharp pang and bitter taste in his mouth at the sight of his two best friends (though that was up for debate; he couldn’t remember saying anything more than a few sentences to either of them this past year) snogging on the couch. What had struck him the most, though, was that they didn’t even have the decency to tell him about their relationship.

It’s for the best, I suppose, thought Harry darkly. Sirius’s death hit him with the force of a rampaging bull dragon, showing him the consequences of lacking power and skill. He had vowed to change after that, devouring any spellbook he could get his hands on. The annual trip to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys allowed him to secretly obtainsome of the less-than-legal spellbooks without alerting the Order or his friends. He had even wanted to bring Ron and Hermione in on the secret and train them as well.

Then he walked in on Ron with his cock in Hermione’s mouth. They didn’t notice, but he had left quickly anyway. The betrayal he felt on seeing Hermione (his Hermione, but he crushed that thought) and Ron in that intimate position left him feeling hollow. He had distanced himself from them, allowing them to continue their secret relationship in peace while he focused on the upcoming war with Lord Voldemort. It wasn’t easy though — Mrs. Weasley had somehow decided that he and Ginny were perfect for one another and would accompany Ron and Hermione. With Dumbledore’s help, he had avoided them.

Harry allowed them their space, even in school — he had far more important things to consider than his own issues. It was in Hogwarts that he found the greatest collection of magical books and paraphernalia in Britain — the Chamber of Secrets. He had even taken to spending some of his nights there, though he doubted anyone noticed, much less the two lovebirds that spent most of their time eating each other’s face.   The magic inherent in Slytherin’s collection would have made Voldemort break down and beg.

If Tom knew what was really inside the Chamber, he would’ve robbed it blind, muttered the Boy-Who-Lived to himself, turning into Myrtle’s bathroom. A hissed word opened the Chamber’s entrancetunnel. Slipping into the pipe, he made his way to the work desk he had conjured and the long shaft of wood on it.

His new staff.

Staff-creation was an ancient rite, one that symbolized a passage to maturity (or, at least, that was what Slytherin’s journal stated). A witch or wizard would create his or her own staff, binding themselves to the artifact through a rite of blood. Staves were generally used in specialized professions, as each staff enhanced a particular subset of the wielder’s magic. In the war against Voldemort, Harry would take every advantage he could find.

Harry had been ironic in his choice of wood for the staff. Yew was both a symbol of immortality and a symbol of death. Magically enhanced, the wood was a natural conduit for healing, protectionand necromancy spells — spells that would no doubt be useful in the war. Also scattered along the table were several magic-enhancing gems to be infused into the staff; a diamond for healing, a star sapphire for protective magic and a zendalure gem for necromantic magic.

It would take at least a few more months before the staff was completed. In the meanwhile, Harry could deal with his other plan — becoming an Animagus.

He grinned. Despite losing Ron and Hermione, he felt somewhat lighter. Maybe it really was for the best.

 

March 1997

Harry smiled at his newest Transfiguration essay grade, inwardly laughing at the O that decorated the top right of the parchment. With his singular focus on magic, he noticed that spellcasting and magical theory came to him naturally, allowing him to focus on his studies with better results.

Then he frowned, remembering his last meeting with McGonagall, two months previous.

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts. Hermione’s slipping grades weren’t his business. He wasn’t really sure what brought on her sudden fall in academic performance, but it wasn’t really hisbusiness to start meddling.

She and Ron had a falling out two weeks earlier — apparently during one of the times when he spent the night in the Chamber. Seamus told him that Ron was shagging Lavender on the side because Hermione refused to go all the way (Harry didn’t know why he felt so relieved at that). While the falling-out didn’t really affect him one-way or theother, the aftereffects did.

For whatever reason, his former friends had decided to reconcile with him, despite having more-or-less ignored his existence in the past nine months. Ron had accosted him several times in the past two weeks, demanding that Harry return to the Quidditch team (when Ron was the one who was pleased that he had quit) or come and goof off. He had gone so far as to take the seat next to Harry that was occupied by Tracey Davis in class — the irritated Slytherin levitated him upside down in the Great Hall in retaliation.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Dumbledore had cautioned him about exposing his staff, Harry would’ve bludgeoned the redhead already.

Hermione was another puzzle. The determined Gryffindor witch had determinedly attempted to approach Harry several times inside and out of class. Not wanting a repeat of the Ron fiasco, he’d used his classmates as human shields, quickly striking up conversations with them to avoid a confrontation. She had once caught him leaving the common room at night, but he managed to deflect her.

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts. A chill ran up his spine as the significance of the day struck him. The final transformation ritual of his Animagus form had to be done tonight — something he wasn’t really looking forward to.

It was an uncommon fact that it was possible to obtain a non-standard Animagus form, such as a manticore. The problem was that the two Animagus methods were wildly different. The ‘standard’ method of transformation just involved quaffing a specially prepared potion. The ‘uncommon’ method involved a carefully prepared magical circle, precise runes and several spells layered on the ‘standard’ Animagus potion along with either the blood or physical component of the creature you wished to become.

The second problem was that the ‘uncommon’ method involved a battle of wills between the wizard and the creature — one that required a phenomenally strong will to win. More often than not, the wizard simply went mad or allowed the beast to take control. That was thereason for multiple steps — each step was designed to acclimatize the caster with his new body. Each step hurt horribly though; but Dumbledore had waived him from classes for the day so that he could recover. Slytherin’s journal had cautioned as much.

Harry turned on his heel and headed to the bathroom. He couldn’t afford to botch this one up.

He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice the brown eyes watch him leave, nor did he notice the eyes’ owner rise to follow him.

 

Hermione Granger wondered when it had all begun to go wrong.

In retrospect, it started after 5^th year.

She had been ecstatic when Ron revealed he had feelings for her. She had nursed a crush on the youngest Weasley for quite some time after all, but even she wondered if they were rushing through things too quickly — in less than three weeks, she was already sucking him off and he was eating her out. Her new relationship with Ron had occupied so much of her time that she had ignored someone just as important.

Harry.

She didn’t know she had become so distant from her first - and now, only (and even that was debatable) — friend. While she had been busy with Ron, she should’ve at least reached out to Harry.

But she didn’t.

She had been so preoccupied with Ron that she didn’t even notice that her grades were starting to slip. When her O’s had lipped into EE’s, she didn’t really notice — comfort snogs with Ron took up her time. Then the arguments started. Without Harry as a buffer, they soon fell apart. Petty bickering, fights, shouting-matches… all these cropped up with surprising regularity. The final nail in the coffin came when she found Ron shagging Lavender.

The argument had been epic.

When all was said and done, they had messily broken up and the Golden Trio was shattered. While crying, she had noticed that Harry was nowhere in sight — he didn’t even come to the tower to sleep. Questioning anyone simply brought the same answer: He’s been doing this since September. I thought you knew. She had been stunned at that comment; she hadn’t noticed her best friend pulling a routine disappearing act at all.

She had seen him the next day at breakfast, talking to Seamus. He had evidently heard about the break-up, judging fromthe way he avoided both her and Ron. Any attempt to talk to him would be thwarted by Harry’s skill at disappearing and deflecting suspicion. Hermione desperately wanted someone to talk to, and the only one she thought would listen to her was actively avoiding her. Her grades were suffering for her mistakes with Ron and Harry. Harry however, was earning the praises of the professors.

She had caught him leaving the common room that night itself. Her attempt to ask where he was going was met with a shrug and a flick of a midnight-black robe as Harry turned on his heel and walked away.

She had gone to Dumbledore immediately after that. The old mage looked at her, smiled sadly and said, If he has not trusted you enough to tell you, I will not break his trust in me.

Then it hit her.

Harry didn’t trust her.

She felt numb. Her best friend didn’t trusther enough to tell her where he was going. Harry felt she wasn’t trustworthy enough to confide in. And he was right. She had been a horrible friend to him this year — keeping her relationship with Ron a secret from him, ignoring him completely… He was entirely justified in it.

Then came the days where Harry wouldn’t show up at all. She had been frantic with worry, a condition that did not change when Harry showed up the next day looking as though he had been on the receiving end of an angry dragon. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, to reassure him that he could trust her but he always managed to dodge.

Tonight, she saw her chance. Hermione discreetly followed Harry, watching wide-eyed as Harry’s wand became a gem topped staff of yew. Harry walked briskly through the halls, finally turning into Myrtle’s bathroom.

Why is he here? thought Hermione confusedly. Her question was answered when Harry opened a pipe and slipped through the tunnel. Hermione quickly followed him, muffling her footsteps. Behind her, the entrance shut. Her eyes widened as she took in the elaborate rune-marked floor and the steaming goblet in the center of the circle. Harry leaned the staff against thewall and began to disrobe.

From behind a pillar, Hermione watched wide-eyed, watching the lean contours of Harry’s back and the play of sinewy muscle against pale skin. Se rubbed her thighs together uncomfortably as a familiar wetness spread, watching Harry walk to the center of the circle and drink the goblet’s contents, holding what appeared to be a scale.

Then the screams began.

Harry’s body seemed to mutate; wings bursting out amid sprays of blood, hands and feet becoming talons, skin becoming scales, a massive tail growing from his tailbone… Hermione watched with horror (and a great deal of self-wretchedness, realizing that Harry didn’t trust her with this secret), that soon turned to admiration at the massive black dragon that now occupied the room, held in by the protective circle, its roars silenced by the magic.

Then she noticed the dragon’s talons tearing at itself, the eyes switching between pale yellow and emerald green. Blood sprayed out from the wounds until at last the dragon’s eyes settled on emerald-green. The dragon dwindled into a nude Harry, a savagely triumphant smile on his face despite the deep, bloody gouges in his flesh. He summoned the staff to his hand, leaning on it as he staggered out of the circle and through a nearby door. Hermione made to follow, entering just as she saw the staff blaze and Harry slump on the large bed, exhaustion in his features.

Hermione examined the room, awed by the workbenches, the bookshelves and the general grandeur of the room. Two books near one of Harry’s quills caught her eye and she moved to examine them. The first one was titled The Grimoire Arcane, but the second one made her gasp.

The Art of Necromancy.

Harry’s studying Necromancy?

A muffled moan caught her attention. Harry was thrashing on the bed, shivering heavily. Resolving to deal with the book situation later, Hermione examined Harry’s wounds, noting that the blood had stopped and they were healing.

Harry was still shivering.

A Muggle survival lesson came to mind. Resolving not to fail Harry again, Hermione stripped herself of her clothes and snuck under the blankets of the bed, cradling Harry’s head to her chest and feeling his shivers abate as the shared warmth heated him up. She briefly wondered why she felt so content holding him, even as sleep finally claimed her.

Lord of Bones

The soft ‘crack’ of apparation echoed in the still air of the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, heralding the presence of three cloaked figures, two obviously feminine. The first figure was a young woman with curly brown hair, the second a dark-haired beauty with a rather conspicious wedding ring; the third a tall young man wearing horn-rimmed glasses, the band on his visible hand indicating he was the brunette’s spouse.

Hermione turned to face Harry and Daphne, a sad smile on her face. Thanks for coming with me, but you don’t need to burden yourselves by helping me.

Harry stepped forward, concern written on his features. Hermione, you’re my best friend. You’re never a burden — we’re happy to help. He was rewarded by a brilliant smile and a quick hug.

Thanks Harry, Hermione murmured into his chest, before stepping away. Harry restrained his body’s surprising physical reaction from Hermione’s lush body against his, especially after only recently making love to his wife. Unnoticed by both mages, Daphne Potter smirked at her husband’s reaction. The Lady Potter spoke up, turning the attention to herself.

One more thing before we go.

Harry raised an eyebrow as his wife sautered towards him, carefully watching the sway of her hips predatorially. Hermione blushed at the Slytherin’s blatant sexuality. Daphne gently ran her finger along the curve of her lover’s jaw. I think we’re going to need something more direct than wands, stud. Think you can handle it?

Immediately, Harry’s form shimmered, taking on the visage of a massive yet still slim snake with bright green eyes and black scales. The king cobra coiled himself around his wife’s upper body, resting his head on her neck.

Hermione gaped.

Harry’s an animagus?!

Daphne smiled at her.

A king cobra animagus, actually. You’re the second person to know.

Hermione didn’t know whether to be happy at Harry’s apparent trust in her, or be disappointed that he only showed her his talent at his wife’s behest. She shook herself out of these thoughts, reminding herself to be happy for him, before giving them a quick smile. She turned and walked down the road leading towards the Weasley home, Daphne following her lead at a sedate pace.

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped into the Burrow; Daphne staying in the shadows. Her nervousness wasn’t unfounded.

Hermione Granger!

Hermione winced. Hurricane Molly had arrived.

You-you scarlet woman! How dare you do such a thing to my Ronny!

Mrs. Weasley… 

Be silent, girl! How dare you show your face here?!

At this point, Daphne realized that inducing fear wasn’t a valid option. At her unseen signal, Harry silently transformed back; still unnoticed. In front of them, the argument continued.

He cheated on me, Mrs Weasley!

SLAP!

Hermione raised a trembling hand to her cheek, tears pooling in her eyes. You harlot, snarled Mrs Weasley. How dare you accuse my son — your fiancé of such lies?!

Daphne’s eyes widened, both at the slap and at the pure rage her husband was displaying. His eyes were blazing with the green of the killing-curse and his wand was blazing emerald. With a few strides, Harry had crossed the distance seperating him and his wife from the arguing witches.

Will my word suffice, Weasley? he hissed, gently wrapping Hermione in his cloak, letting her cry into his chest.

Harry! What a welcome surprise! There’s no need to defend her—

As Lord of the House of Potter, I henceforth swear upon the magic that I witnessed the infidelity of Ronald Bilius Weasley!

Hermione pulled back to stare at Harry with disbelief. Even Daphne, who had caught up with her husband, was struck speechless by the ancient magic invoked.

Mrs Weasley floundered for a moment before finding another excuse. Well, it was her fault that Ron strayed!

… Excuse me?

She should have been married to Ron years ago. I should have had grandchildren by now. Instead she brings these muggle notions — working in a man’s department, wanting to get married in a church! At least my Ron now has a proper pureblood witch!

Daphne’s furious shaking and Hermione’s quiet tears ignited Harry’s fury. My wife is the head of her department. We were married in a church. Are you insinuating that both she and Hermione are failures when they have accomplished more than you ever have? snarled the Unspeakable, green eyes flashing.

He’s a hard-worker who deserves a wife who’ll properly take care of him, Molly continued in her rant, seemingly not hearing Harry’s words.

Harry couldn’t help but snicker at that. What’s so funny, young man? Asked Molly with a glare.

Harry straightened up and looked her in the eyes. It’s just that hard-working most certainly doesn’t fit him from all that I’ve heard. I’ve gotten questions about him at more than one inter-departmental meeting. Given that his nickname around his department is Little Ludo , I think you can imagine just how high a regard his coworkers have for him and just how much he does. Harry shrugged, But that’s neither here nor there, we’re here to help Hermione get her things without being bothered and then we’re gone.

With that, the trio swept past the Weasley matriarch and walked up the stairs, Harry gently leading Hermione until they came upon an uninvited face.

Hello Harry, said Ginny Weasley flirtatiously. Where are you going with the damaged goods? I mean, she’s thrown away her chance to actually become part of the wizarding world. Harry’s eyes widened at the barb, already feeling Hermione clench her hands in his cloak, hurt and fury rolling off her.

Surprisingly, it was Daphne who reacted. If Hermione’s damaged goods, Weasley, what does that make you? Or is this some sort of poorly planned vengeance, seeing as she rose through the ranks faster than you, Centaur Liason?

Daphne leaned over and whispered into Ginny’s ear, Besides, what is the word of a disgraced lesser house against both Harry Potter’s wife and mistress? The Weasley girl fled.

By the time they had reached Ron’s room, Hermione had composed herself. Still within Harry’s protective embrace, she wordlessly summoned and shrunk her possessions. Together, the trio then apparated back to the estate, Hermione wrapped in both Daphne and Harry’s arms.

Lord of Bones

The dark-haired man shivered slightly in the cold air of the forest, cradling the bundle in his arms. He looked upwards towards the starry sky, his keen eyes easily picking out the dark circle that blotted out the stars.

The man gulped. If he did this, there was no turning back. Then, his eyes met the emerald eyes within the bundle. He gathered his resolve.

Anything for his son.

The man gently deposited the bundle on the ground and slipped a gold- hilted dagger from his sleeve. He moved towards the center of the circle he drew earlier.

Tentatively, he pricked his finger on the dagger and let a drop of blood fall.

Please, let this work, prayed the man.

The blood-drop hit the grass.

At first, there was nothing. Then, the drop expanded, until it covered the forest floor. The man silently watched the crimson of the blood turn pitch black.

How curious.

The man whirled around, his wand held out in a ready position. The voice spoke again, seemingly emanating from the forest itself.

That a wizard of light would call upon me… truly, a most ironic occasion.

A young man strode lazily out of the darkness. He wore a black robe and held an ornate staff of equivalent hue. His skin was as pale as the gibbous moon, but his eyes and hair were darker than even the impenetrable darkness that surrounded them.

Unwillingly, the man’s eyes met the dark stranger’s. After a moment, the stranger nodded slowly.

So, this is why you call me. Idly, the stranger raised a pale hand. The bundle appeared in the man’s outstretched palm. The apparition examined it with a critical eye.

Tell me, little wizard; why should I do this? What care is it of mine if this child dies or not? Anger blazed through the man.

Do you have no compassion?! No mercy?! Are you so cold you have no care for others?! The man immediately fell silent, realizing who he was shouting at. In the unbearable quiet, he desperately wondered if he had gone too far. After several moments of silence, the stranger spoke again.

You seem to forget to whom you speak to, little wizard. Both men fell silent.

However…  The man perked up.

This intrigues me, little wizard. It has been many millennia since I have been invoked. Do you even comprehend the price that I could demand? The man replied, Anything for my son.

The stranger fell silent. Then, he spoke again, a strange sense of finality resonating in his voice.

I can save your son. But there is a price. If I do so, then he and I will be one. We will be both Harry Potter and Nuitari. In essence, he will become me. I am, after all, in need of a presence in this world.

Their eyes met.

Do you accept?

In that instant, the man’s eyes met his son’s emerald gaze. He considered his options. Then, a tired voice spoke.

Yes.

canoncansodoff

Ravenclaw Interviews

Miss Chang, what makes you qualified to be a Dark Consort?

Cho smiled. I was the first girl Harry fancied, and I play Seeker on my House team, just like him. All work and no play makes a dull Dark Lord, and I’ll be there with my broomstick whenever he wants to play.

Next question. How do you feel about sharing Harry?

Cho chewed her lower lip. That depends on whom I’d be sharing Harry with.

Fair enough, Sirius replied. So far, we’ve brought Miss Granger, Miss Greengrass and Miss Bones on board.

Granger? Cho said derisively. Joined so tightly at the hip with her Golden Boy that she’ll follow him to the Dark Side? I should have known.

The Ravenclaw witch turned on her heel and stormed out.

Damn, Sirius. She didn’t stay long enough to tell us about her boobies.

Lupin shook his head and sighed. Next!

He frowned when the door opened. Is something wrong, Professor Vector?

Not from where I’m sitting, Sirius muttered, as the Arithmancy professor glided across the room with a pleasing sway of her hips.

I’m here for the interviews, the witch replied.

Remus nodded. Making sure that we don’t do anything improper… yes, that makes sense.

The raven-haired professor raised one corner of her pouty red lips into a half-grin.

No, you don’t understand, Remus, she replied. I’m here to ‘be’ interviewed.

Sirius snapped another quill, while Remus blinked rapidly, as if he’d just been blinded.

You want to be one of Harry’s Dark Consorts?

Yes, I do, Vector purred, using a sultry voice that had no place in a proper classroom. Is there a problem? Was there an age limit that I wasn’t aware of?

Erm… not as such, but… 

Sirius interrupted Remus’s response with a wide smile and firm elbow to his friend’s ribcage.

No problems at all, Professor, he said, eyeing the attractive witch up and down. I’d love to hear your responses to the interview questions… wouldn’t you, Remus?

The lycanthrope looked at Sirius, then at Vector, and then finally at the list. With a here we go again sigh, he finally nodded.

Right, then… Miss Vector, what makes you qualified to be a Dark Consort?

The Arithmancy professor smiled, and coordinated her succinct response with the unfastening of the four buttons down the front of her robe.

M

I

L

F

She then proved her point by dropping her robe and revealing the lack of undergarments.

Gaaah! choked Sirius, at the sight of the now-naked witch.

Once he got over the shock, Remus asked the first question that came to mind.

Are you cold, Septima?

The Arithmancy professor followed her former colleague’s gaze down to her erect nipples.

No, no, she said with a snort. I’m rather hot, actually.

I’ll say, muttered Sirius.

Erm, right… moving on, Remus stammered. How do you feel about sharing in the bedroom?

What kind of sharing? the witch cooed. Me sharing Harry with other witches, or Harry sharing me with his loyal vassals?

The former, replied Remus.

Both, replied Sirius.

Bad Dog! scolded Lupin, swatting his friend’s nose with the rolled up paper.

He then turned back to his former colleague and asked, What would you do if Harry made a decision that you personally disagree with, if the decision was incorrect?

Vector’s eyes sparkled. I would strongly state my case, then insist that I be disciplined for my impertinence.

Are you expecting Harry to use Crucio’s on his minions?

No, I am hoping that he’ll use a cane on my bare bum.

Dolt! muttered Sirius.

I see, said Remus. I also see that you’ve already answered the last question.

She certainly has, Sirius stated, ogling the witch’s perky breasts. B cup, but bonus points for those brilliant points.

Oh, how kind, the witch said sweetly.

But that gives us time to ask an alternative question, doesn’t it? Sirius asked.

Let me guess, snarked Remus. Something to do with doggy-style?

Oh, you mock me, Good Sir, whined Sirius, wincing in fake pain.

So, do I pass inspection, boys? Vector asked with a saucy grin.

Erm, yes, everything is in order, said Remus with a smile. Just go through those doors, and join the others.

It is always the smart ones, isn’t it? Remus asked, once the Arithmancy professor gathered her robe and left the room.

With eyes still fixed towards the parting view that Vector had provided, Sirius nodded and asked, So do you think that Harry will need us to recertify our selections every now and then?

Remus chuckled. No, I think that Harry have all the pertinent information soon enough.

Too true, the lucky bastard, Sirius lamented. Gathering the papers on the desk, he added, Well, leave the last part to me.

Which part is that?

Gently breaking the bad news to the other witches, Sirius said with a smile.

And offering a shoulder to cry on? Remus asked.

Amongst certain other body parts.

Merlin, Sirius, they were all sixteen and seventeen… isn’t that a little young for you? Sirius laughed as he walked towards the exit. Think in terms of dog-years, my friend… dog-years.

Lord of Bones

Albus Dumbledore blinked.

He had seen many things throughout his long, long years, both mystical and malignant. He had traveled the world, studying exotic magic and strange creatures. He had spoken to and studied under witch-doctors and shugenja, pawang and bomoh.

But nothing, nothing he had ever seen or done prepared him for the sight of six children suddenly appearing in his office in a flash of bright light, looking just as surprised as he felt. Silently, he studied the children.

They all looked to be around the same age, in his estimate; certainly no more than five or six. Two of them were twins, as far as he could tell. The boy had curly black hair, the girl messy brown. Their eyes, however, were identical; a startling shade of emerald-green. A very familiar shade of emerald green, Dumbledore realized. And they were studying him as well.

He turned away, somewhat unnerved, and studied the next boy, this one with messy black hair and ice-blue eyes. The boy was looking at him quietly, a flicker of surprise mixed with trepidation in his eyes. Dumbledore smiled at him kindly and inspected the next child, this one an adorable strawberry-blonde little girl with blue-green eyes. She smiled at him shyly and he couldn’t help but smile in return.

The last two were siblings, but not twins. In fact, the girl looked about a year older than the boy. Both were dark-haired and somewhat darker-skinned than the other children, with dark eyes. The bindi on their foreheads and the structure of their face told him they had North Indian blood, but he could also notice some of the more Caucasian traits; particularly in the cheekbones.

Given that they were all dressed in pyjamas, he surmised that the children were asleep ? or were about to sleep ? before their arrival. The cut of their clothes suggested that they were children of well-off purebloods, possibly one of the great families.

A botched kidnapping?

Possible.

Hello children, he said kindly. Do you know how you arrived here?

Unanimously, the children shook their heads.

Do you know who I am?

They shook their heads again.

I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, he said softly. You’re safe from whoever tried to kidnap you.

But that’s not true! You can’t be Dumbledore! said the brown-haired girl indignantly. The blue-eyed boy nodded. Daddy said he’s dead!

And who is your daddy?

The answer was unanimous.

Harry Potter.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened. Oh dear.

Lord of Bones

Teaser.

It has been ten years since Ron and Hermione have been together, despite Harry being in love with Hermione. His ties with them fray and he finds happiness with the Slytherin Daphne Greengrass.

Now, Daphne Potter, wife to the Head Unspeakable, finds out that Ron Weasley is cheating on his fiancée. Knowing that her husband still carries a torch for Hermione, Daphne plots.

Her goal? Get Hermione into bed with her husband (and herself).

Features Unspeakable! Harry, HitWitch! Bisexual! Daphne, Flustered! ChiefAuror! Hermione and Idiot! Ron.

A small excerpt:

I’m back, love!

Harry’s voice echoed in the hallway of the ancestral home of the Potters. Noticing that his lovely wife hadn’t greeted him, he noted the trail of rose petals leading to their bedroom.

He grinned.

Shedding his outer robe, Harry dashed up the stairs, fully intending to show Daphne how much he had missed her while he was away.

A throaty female moan stayed his hand just as it reached the doorknob. He knew from experience that Daphne was a screamer. Then who-?

He tentatively opened the door and stepped in. He froze.

He recognized the long, dark hair of his wife. It was the second person that knocked his senses away. Whimpering and moaning at the set of skilled hands massaging her breasts was a beautiful young woman with chocolate-brown curls.

Hermione Granger, soon to be Weasley.

He found his voice again. Daphne? Wha— He was cut off as Hermione’s eyes snapped open in shock and his wife rose to greet him, her form succubi-like.

Daphne grabbed her husband’s half-opened shirt and pulled it off his leanly muscled form before capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Welcome home, Harry, she whispered into his ear, after the kiss. Happy birthday, she said, leading him to their bed and to Hermione.

Seel’vor

Here’s the first part of Easing Tensions; laying the groudwork

Harry Potter’s fifth year of education as the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had not begun well. Ever since his ‘trial’ in the summer for fending off two Dementors, conveniently sent by the Ministry of Magic, he’d been picked on, bullied and harassed by almost everyone in the school. The Weasley family, apart from Fred and George, had been more distant than normal.

Presumably, they were trying to reduce the appearance of being allied with Harry, keeping Arthur Weasley’s job safe at the Ministry of Magic. It was well known that Percy had broken with his family, preferring to suck the Minister’s… ingratiate himself to the Minister.

The Ministry themselves had contributed to his current misery. They had sent Delores Umbridge, a half-human, half-toad creature to ‘supervise the modernisation of Hogwarts’. In Harry’s words, though, it was to ‘supervise the dumbing down of Wizarding Britain, turning every youth into a brainless moron’. Ever since she had taken over the running of the vacant Defence Against the Dark Arts post, Harry had been in detention nearly every day. Some of the excuses were creative, and would have been amusing had they not been happening to him. His favourites so far had been ‘glancing around the room’, ‘making Madam Umbridge uncomfortable with his presence’ and the absolute best; ‘breaking wind without permission’.

Unfortunately, the detentions he had been assigned to carry out weren’t the usual punishments. Traditionally, he’d be made to clean out the trophy room without using magic, not really that difficult a task. Unpleasant, yes, but not harmful to him. Detentions with Snape were usually worse, but that was because of the ‘ick’ factor; processing animal potions ingredients, cleaning cauldrons and scrubbing the floors. These tasks didn’t really bother him. After all, preparing raw meat, scrubbing pans and mopping the floors at the Dursleys had pretty much inured him to the ‘ick’.

However, Blood Quills, illegal Dark Objects that carried an automatic I-5 sentence, were not standard. Each time he wrote a word with a Blood Quill, a razor sharp cutting spell carved into the soft tissue on the back of his hand to extract the blood from his veins, and transferred it onto the page. As expected, using a Blood Quill hurt like hell, and being forced to write lines to suck up to the toad was seriously hurting him. Umbridge had, thoughtfully, allowed him to keep the parchment he was writing the lines on. He’d written ‘I must not tell lies’ some 2,000 times, earning Umbridge 100 centuries in Azkaban. Of course, Fudge would pat her on the back and tell her ‘good job’.

The main source of Harry’s tension, stress and general aggravation was notsomeone pushing him, manipulating him or irritating him… no, it was his complete lack of presence. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin (1^st— class), Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock, yada, yada, yada. In Harry’s previous years at school, Dumbledore had been all over him like flies on shit, but Harry hadn’t actually spoken to him since last June, shortly before the end of his fourth year. Since then, Dumbledore had ignored him.

Harry didn’t like being ignored, (except from the Dursleys during the summer… and he’d be back to pay off those debts on his 17^th birthday) and having Dumbledore just blank him infuriated him beyond measure.

In Psychology, it is well known that no-one is limitless. Everyone has their breaking points, the point where they cannot take anymore, and snap. How they snap, though, is completely different. Some could just become catatonic, slowly rocking themselves, soiling themselves, and simply wasting away. Others could lose all moral structures, becoming unthinking, mindless apes, bent on murdering, mayhem and chaos. The final category were those who would simply break away from ‘society’, turning into truly deranged individuals; frighteningly intelligent, insanely powerful, and utterly without mercy.

If Dumbledore knew what he was creating, he would have abandoned his silly plan of ignoring the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’, and would instead become closer. Dumbledore’s ignorance went two ways, though; making sure Harry was kept isolated and ignorant also meant that Dumbledore himself was kept isolated and ignorant.

One of the fundamental truths of the universe is that everything decays. Entropy increases. The situation at Hogwarts was beginning to deteriorate slowly, but the sanity of Harry James Potter was beginning to come crashing down. It was only a matter of time before the situation exploded.

Lord of Bones

An AU of the story; how it could have gone…

Save for the chatter between a few students, the Great Hall was quiet,almost somberly so. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan looked wan, Neville’s eyes were red-rimmed. At the Head Table, Dumbledore’s face was pale and drawn —for once, he looked like all his hundred years of life. Flitwick lacked his usual good cheer and McGonagall’s face was grieving. Even Snape looked tired.

The other tables had somehow picked up on the grimness. The Hufflepuffand Ravenclaw tables were quiet, watching the Lions carefully. Even House Slytherin was silent.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron sulked. Hermione had found out about Lavender and broken up with him —dammit, he had needs too! It wasn’t his fault she refused to put out! As he dug into his breakfast with the finesse of a rabid dog, he idly wondered where his prat of a best friend was. Sure, he hadn’t talked to Harry for close to a year, but that was no reason for Harry to disappear!

Far to his right, Hermione was incessantly questioning anyone she could get her hands on about Harry’s whereabouts. The various negative answers were not helping her mood; not since she’d found out about Ron’s infidelity. Honestly, that boy— her train of thought was cut off when the doors of the Great Hall burst open and someone limped in.

Harry.

The Boy-who-Lived was a wreck. He was leaning heavily on a gem-encrusted yew staff, his robes tattered, his skin burnt, his left leg being dragged as he staggered forward —it was fairly obvious that it was broken. Cuts and scrapes lined his skin, his left hand was mangled, blood was dripping out of his scar in copius amounts. Every few moments, he would release a bloody cough. Every eye in the hall tracked him as he limped forward. Finally, he stopped at the Head Table, green eyes meeting tired blue.

Albus Dumbledore looked as though he was going to cry.

Harry twitched his staff, and a bloody head with crimson eyes and slits for nostrils fell out of thin air onto the table. Quietly, Harry spoke; The Dark Lord Voldemort is dead, and soon, I will be too.

The student body froze at that, watching the tormented young man disbelievingly.

Hermione stared at him with horror.

McGonagall broke down weeping.

Imploringly, pleadingly, Dumbledore spoke. Please my boy, we can helpyou. We’ll get the best healers, the finest in Europe—

Harry cut him off. Professor, if you ever cared about me…

We all do, Harry, whispered Dumbledore.

…then let me die!

Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. Agonizingly, painfully, Harry walked out of the Great Hall, to the Chamber of Secrets, leaving behind a horror-struck student body.

No-one noticed Ron and Hermione follow him.

 

Yeah, it’s up for continuation, preferably just to the confrontation and aftermath, if anyone wants it. I’ll be concentrating on the drabbles, crack ideas, Flames and the original fic.

Lord of Bones

More smutty offerings, for my boredom is great.

Hermione, could you please stay? I want to ask you something. Harry’s voice reverberated in the Room of Requirement, just as the last of the 6^th year DA swept out of the room. Discreetly, Harry gave Daphne Greengrass a spank on the arse as she walked past him, receiving a promising smile in return. He waited until the last student left the room, leaving him with his best female friend.

Hermione had refused to look at him in the eye the entire day. That, and the perpetual blush on her face, gave him an idea as to why she didn’t dare face him.

She had seen.

Merlin, he loved this girl.

Harry smiled, taking soft, measured steps towards Hermione and watching her tense imperceptibly.

Then he hugged her.

Hermione froze, then hesitantly hugged him back, her hands stroking his back softly. Harry? she asked meekly.

Did you enjoy the show last night? he whispered into the shell of her ear, nipping softly on the earlobe. He felt her tense and struggle slightly. I don’t know what you’re talking about, she said weakly.

Please don’t lie to me, Hermione, he whispered into her ear. Harry ran the flat of his tongue down her neck, before finally nuzzling the creamy skin of her collarbone. He felt twin hard points pressing into his chest through his clothes and heard Hermione begin to mewl.

Which part did you enjoy the most? he murmured, pulling away from her neck to look into her eyes. Hermione’s face was flushed, her chocolate curls framing her face. She stared at him, uncomprehending the question until it finally hit her what he was asking.

Excuse me? she asked.

I said, which part did you enjoy the most? he repeated patiently. Was it the part where I was finger-fucking Daphne while eating her out?

Harry noticed Hermione’s body shudder slightly, while the beautiful witch’s pupils dilated with arousal. Or was the part where she was giving me a blowjob? he asked mildly, tracing his fingeralong the seam of her lips.

Hermione ran her tongue over his finger, watching him with wide eyes.

Or was it the part where I was shagging her brains out? he asked softly, his lips just slightly above her own, his breath on her lips. He leaned over and kissed her softly, cupping her face as he probed her mouth with his tongue. He felt Hermione bury her hands in his hair, pulling him closer as she reciprocated the kiss fiercely.

In an amazing degree of flexibility, Hermione wrapped her legs around Harry’s hips, grinding herself against the virile young man. Their lips clashed hungrily, soft feminine moans mixing with masculine groans. Harry barely noticed the front of his trousers getting soaked before Hermione realized what she was doing and pulled away.

Harry, I’m sorry! she squeaked, mortified. I shouldn’t be—

Harry dipped a finger into her knickers, silencing her immediately. Hermione yelped as he began to stroke her wet nether lips, crooking his finger to gain entry. If you’re worried about Daph, don’t be. She doesn’t mind.

Hermione could only moan.

Harry disengaged his finger from Hermione’s tight passage, amusedly noting the sheen of her arousal on it. He pressed his finger against her lips, watching with some surprise (and arousal) as she suckled the appendage, bathing it with her tongue. He slowly pulled awayhis finger, his eyes widening at Hermione’s disappointed whimper.

‘Fuck, that was hot!’

Harry pulled Hermione to the massive four-poster that had just materialized, seating her on the side of the bed. He nuzzled her breasts through her shirt and bra, before finally nibbling on the hard protrusions on the shirt. Hermione pulled him off her chest before he could do anything more.

He looked at her with hurt puzzlement in his eyes, before the Gryffindor beauty tugged her shirt off and unclasped her bra, revealing full, pert breasts. The impressive mounds were tipped with hard, pink nipples that made Harry’s mouth water. Hermione gently guided Harry’s head to her right breast, throwing her head back as he suckled on the pink tip. He punctuated his nursing with a quick bite, drawing a breathless moan from his new lover even as his hand busied itself with her left breast. Harry finally pulled away from his treat, before switching to her left breast and repeating the motions there.

Finally, Harry forced himself away from her nipple, making his way down to her flat stomach (pausing only to elicit a squeal from her when he flicked his tongue into her belly-button) and to the skirt she was wearing. Harry unclasped the offending garment and tore it aside.

Harry!

They were in my way, he grunted, eyes fixed on the simple cotton knickers that his prize. Above him, Hermione blushed at his intense gaze and moved to block his sight.

She was too slow.

Harry licked her sopping wet pussy through her knickers, drawing a surprised shriek from Hermione before he simple tore aside the garments, revealing trimmed light brown curls over an erect clit and moist pussy. The hand clenched itself in Harry’s hair and Hermione’s legs straddled Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s right hand stroked Hermione’s creamy thigh lovingly, his other hand and mouth busy with the Muggleborn’s dripping folds, lapping up her copious fluids. A finger entered her welcoming channel, causing Hermione to babble incoherently.

Harry finger-fucked Hermione slowly, savoring her drawn out cries. He alternated his licks and thrusts with suckles onher clit, grinning inwardly at her cries. A final lick and suckle hurled her over the edge.

Oh God, Harry!

The Boy-Who-Lived drank her orgasm thirstily, unrelenting in his licking. Finally, he pulled away and stood up, looking down at the trembling witch and scooping her up in his arms (drawing a contented moan and a kiss to his neck) before laying her on the bed and stretching himself next to her. Like a content cat, Hermione playfully licked Harry’s jawline before pressing her lips against his jaw. She had busied itself with tugging up Harry’s shirt, finally pulling away the offensive garment to reveal a pale, smoothly muscled chest. Harry unbuckled his trousers and boxers, pulling them down his legs and throwing them off the side of the bed.

Hermione explored her lover’s firm chest with hands and lips, drawing a growl from him. She glimpsed down and her eyeswidened at the massive, powerful-looking erection that throbbed in the cold room. A small, cool hand wrapped around Harry’s cock as Hermione watched it with fascination, a plaintive whine escaping her lips.

She looked at her lover despondently. You’re too big, Harry! It’ll never fit!

A chuckle was his reply. I guess the all-knowing Hermione Granger doesn’t know everything, huh? he asked playfully, pinning her underneath him and nuzzling her pert nose. Trust me, love.

She nodded, opening her legs welcomingly. Harry stroked the head of his cock along her wet lips, teasing her unmercifully before sliding himself into her inch by inch. Hermione screwed her eyesshut, feeling the hard organ stroke deep within her. Finally, Harry buriedhis large cock fully in her, gritting his teeth as the urge to pound her relentlessly welled up in him.

Slowly, he pulled back and thrust again, giving her time to get used to him. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned into his ear, nipping the earlobe tenderly. Harry began to thrust in earnest, feeling Hermione respond eagerly as she lifted her hips and set a rhythm with Harry’s hips. The wet ‘smacks’ of grinding hips were a perfect counterpart to the growls and mewls that permeated the room.

Harry cupped his lover’s firm arse and lifted her over the bed, cradling her weight on his hands as he relentlessly fucked her. Hermione’s cries and yowls echoed loudly in the room, her own counterthrusts increasing her pleasure. Nails dig into broad shoulders, drawing blood as a pair of lips mercilessly attacked Harry’s neck. Hermione screeched like a wild-cat, feeling her orgasm build in the pit of her stomach asher boiling pussy constricted around Harry’s cock.

She shrieked and came, the force of her orgasm triggering Harry’s own. Spurts of white-hot cum blasted into Hermione’s tight channel, her orgasm milking Harry’s balls for all they were worth. He rolled over so that Hermione was on top of him, letting her slump down onhis chest. The young woman closed her eyes and savored the sensation of her lover’s seed within her and trickling down her thighs. Harry kissed her head softly, cuddling against her.

Harry? she asked softly, kissing his chest.

Yes love?

Why were you with Daphne last night? she asked curiously with no anger in her voice. I’ve never seen you talk to her.

I’ve been dating her since 5^th year.

Stunned silence.

Then, a hurt voice asked tremblingly, Why didn’t you tell me?

Harry sighed and cupped Hermione’s face kissing away the tears that were dropping down her cheeks. Hermione, I was a wreck last year. With Dumbledore, Snape, the DA, Ron and my feelings for you, Daphne was the only thing that kept me sane. If I had told any of you, Ron would have started shouting and accusing me of being a traitor, Ginny would be trying to seduce me and you would be trying to rationalize it.

I—

Combined with the fact I was in love with both you and Daphne, how did you think I felt? I didn’t want to choose between you and her and also have to deal with Ron’s insecurity and Ginny’s hero-lust.

You… love me? she asked, a radiant smilespreading across her face. Harry gave her a grin and kissed her softly. Hermione broke the kiss, whispering I love you too.

Then she fell quiet before speaking again. But what about now?

Daphne was the one who suggested that I seduce you.

What? she squeaked.

Hermione, did you really think I would be shagging my girlfriend in plain sight if I didn’t have a reason to do so? Harry asked; amusement in his voice.

Hermione looked mortified… and a little interested.

And… she doesn’t mind sharing?

Why don’t you ask her in person? She’s right there.

Hermione lifted her head from Harry’s chest, following his hand. A curvaceous brunette was walking towards the bed, the clothes slipping off her toned body. Daphne slipped into the covers and snuggled up to her boyfriend, watching Hermione’s expression.

To their surprise, Hermione leaned forward and fused her lips to Daphne’s. Harry felt himself harden again, watching the two visions moan into each other’s mouths, slim hands burying themselves in each other’s hair. They finally broke away, turning to a wide-eyed Harry. Daphne grinned wickedly, gripping the base of her lover’s shaft.

Damn stud, you really know how to pick ‘em.

Harry’s reply was lost as two heads disappeared under the covers and began orally assaulting his member. As Harry fellback to the pillows and stroked his girls’ heads, one thought crept into his mind.

‘Best day ever.’

Lord of Bones

Hermione Granger paced anxiously around the Gryffindor Girls’ Dorm, her mind working furiously with the new information she had just been presented with not even twenty minutes ago. Sirius and Remus had announced that Voldemort was gone for good; all his Horcruxes destroyed. While she was ecstatic at the news of the malevolent tyrant’s final destruction, she couldn’t help but feel hurt — Harry had not trusted her enough to tell her about his intentions to hunt down the malignant sorcerer’s soul vessels.

And she couldn’t blame him. She could frankly say she had been an utter bitch to him all throughout last year. She could still see the bewildered hurt in his eyes when she reprimanded him for thinking Draco was a Death Eater and during the Half-Blood Prince fiasco. After she returned to her house and analyzed her actions, she felt ashamed of herself — a shame that was replaced by fear when it was announced that Harry had gone missing. She still didn’t know what had possessed her to distrust Harry and treat him so badly last year.

But she promised that she would change, apologize to Harry and be there for him. This Dark Consort thing did sound fairly interesting, and she could readily admit (while blushing like a tomato) that being Harry’s lover was something that she had fantasized about many times. Besides, Harry would need someone brave enough to stand with him and also guide him. The brown-haired beauty made her way out of the dorm and headed to the Room of Requirements.

 

Daphne Greengrass pondered the surprising turn of events. The psychopath Lord Voldemort had been destroyed by the Golden Boy, something she had been expecting. What she had not been expecting was Potter’s claim to the mantle of the Dark Lord and his rather spectacular announcement.

Daphne was under no illusions about what was expected from her as a pureblood heiress. While she wanted a career in the Unspeakables, she would no doubt be forced to serve as a brood mare and trophy wife to whichever inbred idiot that her parents decided to marry her off to. Potter, on the other hand, was known to be both kind and considerate with no prejudice against ambitious women. He would need someone cunning and ambitious enough to help him on his path and one who could appeal to the purebloods.

Besides, if those pictures the Creevey stalkers took were any indication… she spaced out and started drooling before snapping out of it. In any case, if she bore Potter’s children, he would not deny her the right to pursue her ambitions. The seductively beautiful Slytherin shook herself out of a mental picture where a dark haired, blue-eyed boy curled up sleepily in her lap and called her mummy, before stepping out of the Slytherin Common Room and heading towards the Room of Requirement.

 

Susan Bones reclined against the massive couch of the Hufflepuff Common Room. The buxom redhead stretched, recalling the rather peculiar events of the day. While she had been expecting Harry to deal with Voldemort eventually, the notion of Harry becoming the Dark Lord was rather shocking. Still, that he was doing it to improve the Wizarding world and overthrow a corrupt Ministry was a noble act.

She nodded decisively. She had been born into a family of politicians and had grown up with politics. She could help Harry establish a good government and guide him through the political arena.

Harry had helped her before and deserved her Hufflepuff loyalty. Besides, he was an attractive young man and a far better choice than someone like shudder Ron Weasley. The virility of the Potters was legendary — till her dying day, Lily Potter walked funnily and always had a goofy, satisfied grin on her face.

With that in mind, Susan made her way to the Room of Requirement.

 

The Room of Requirement: Gryffindor Interviews

Sirius and Remus sat behind a massive desk, blank looks on their faces. They hadn’t expected the lines to be this long — or at least Remus didn’t; Sirius always knew his godson was a manly stud.

James would’ve been so proud.

Anyway, Sirius and Remus sat behind a massive desk, looking at a vaguely triumphant-looking Ginny Weasley — who had suddenly sprouted breasts that they could’ve sworn weren’t there a few months ago.

Miss Weasley, what makes you qualified to be a Dark Consort?

Ginny smiled cheerfully. First of all, I’d convince Harry to turn back to the Light and stop this stupid Dark Lord nonsense. Then I’d steer him correctly and make him work in the Ministry—

Stop. Next question — how do you feel about sharing Harry?

There wouldn’t be any sharing. I’ll have Harry kick out all those… scarlet women.

… I see. What if Harry made a decision that you personally disagree with, if the decision was incorrect?

I’d follow mum’s way of persuasion, of course!

Oh God, muttered Sirius. One last question, he said loudly, what cup size are you?

I’m a D-cup.

Finite, Remus said. The prominent breasts disappeared. Ginny flushed.

Thank you, Miss Weasley. NEXT! hollered Sirius.

Ginny left and Hermione walked in.

The questioning began again.

Miss Granger, what makes you qualified to be a Dark Consort?

Hermione stayed silent for a few seconds before answering quietly. I’m Harry’s best friend and the one who understands him the most. I’ll be able to support Harry emotionally and also be brave enough to stand with him through thick and thin. I also wish to apologize to him and attempt to renew the trust he once had in me.

Next question — how do you feel about sharing Harry?

It’s sort of understandable for their only heir of an old family to have many wives and Harry’s always wanted a large family. I can get used to it.

What if Harry made a decision that you personally disagree with, if the decision was incorrect?

Hermione thought it out carefully. I would attempt to reason with Harry and show him the facts, and advise him against it.

One last question, said Sirius, what cup size are you?

There was a heavy pause.

What?! shrieked Hermione, outrage in her voice. What does that have to do with anything?!

Hermione, said Remus patiently. A Dark Consort is more than just an administrator, advisor, friend, mate and partner; it’s also to show that Harry’s just that badass to have all these visions of female glory around him. It’s important.

… I’m a C-cup, she gritted out.

Remus and Sirius shared a look. You don’t look like it, ventured Sirius.

For God’s sake, roared Hermione, do these look as though I’m lying?! She pulled open her robes and shirt, revealing that she did indeed have a very nice pair of breasts, held back only by a red lace bra. Sirius and Remus gaped, wide-eyed.

Erm… yes, Hermione, we see that. In that case, please step through those doors, said Remus hurriedly. Hermione huffed and pulled her clothes back on, stepping past the doors.

It’s always the brainy ones, mused Remus. Sirius’s giggling drew his attention.

Padfoot?

Mmm… Boobies… 

Remus sighed, pulled a paper fan from his robe and smacked Sirius on the head.

Hey! What was that for?

D’you remember the time you walked in on Lily changing in her and James’s bedroom?

Sirius drooled at the memory. How could I forget? Lily had great knockers; creamy, full and tipped with deliciously pink—

Now remember James’s reaction when he found out.

Sirius paled and crossed his legs together protectively.

And Harry has a worse temper then James.

Eep.

Don’t worry Padfoot, Hermione’s not the tattling type.

Sirius only whimpered, remembering the threats to his precious danglies.

 

Slytherin Interviews

Daphne Greengrass strode into the Room, her face carefully blank. Sirius (who had recovered) and Remus greeted her.

Miss Greengrass, what makes you qualified to be a Dark Consort?

Daphne smirked. I know pureblood etiquette and customs well, which I can use to teach Harry how to conduct himself in a pureblood environment. I’m ambitious and cunning enough to be able to cultivate these traits in Harry. I’m also a hot Slytherin who looks good in black.

Next question — how do you feel about sharing Harry?

I’m bisexual.

Sirius dropped his quill, his eyes glazing over. Remus sighed and smacked him again.

What if Harry made a decision that you personally disagree with, if the decision was incorrect?

Daphne smiled. I would point out the parts of the plan I was uncomfortable with and ask him to change them. Failing that, I’d sexually frustrate himto the point where he’d be about ready to snap. If he agrees, I let him shag me any way he wants. If he doesn’t, I’ll just continue teasing him.

Sirius snapped his quill.

One last question, said Remus, what cup size are you?

She smiled. C-cup.

Through that door please.

As the Greengrass heir joined Hermione, Sirius turned to face Remus. My godson’s going to shag the hottest birds in Hogwarts. What are we going to get?

I don’t know about you, but there’s this really cute werewolf I’ve been eyeing… 

 

Hufflepuff Interviews

Hannah Abbot left the room just as Susan Bones walked in.

Miss Bones, what makes you qualified to be a Dark Consort?

Susan smiled. I was born and bred in a political family. I know how to live in the political arena and Harry may need my help to properly build a working governmental system.

Next question — how do you feel about sharing Harry?

He’s a Potter. You know their reputation for virility.

Sirius whimpered, crossing his legs. Remus sighed but refrained from hitting him again.

What if Harry made a decision that you personally disagree with, if the decision was incorrect?

Susan pondered that. I’d point out the political ramifications of his decisions and the possible consequences. I’d also gently talk Harry into at least holding back the decision until he’s covered all possible ground and fully thought it over.

One last question, said Remus, what cup size are you?

She smiled. D-cup.

This time, Remus broke his quill.

Through that door please. Sirius strangled out.

As the Bones heiress walked out, Remus turned to Sirius. Boobies!

Don’t steal my line!

 

The Consorts

I can’t believe that Harry would care about such a thing! ranted Hermione angrily. Daphne sighed.

Granger?

What?

Take a look, said the Slytherin, passing a photo to the brown-haired girl. Hermione took it curiously, and then felt her face heat up as she looked upon a bathing, naked Harry Potter.

Hermione’s eyes roved past the lean, muscled chest and the corded muscles of Harry’s arms and legs, licking her lips hungrily as she did so. Then her eyes fell between his legs.

Sweet Circe, she breathed out, a familiar heat between her legs.

Susan looked over her shoulder. Wow, said the wide-eyed Hufflepuff, no wonder Lily Potter was smiling so much, if James Potter was hung like that… 

Hermione looked up, a predatory glint in her eye.

Dibs.

Lord of Bones

This is actually an old idea of mine, but I’ve never been able to get down to writing it, so here goes:

During the early events of Half-Blood Prince, Harry is summoned to the Headmaster’s office. Much to his surprise, he bumps into several girls (Padma Patil, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, Hermione, any other girl you can think of) apparently waiting for him outside the gargoyle entrance.

Entering they are met with a vaguely amused / befuddled Headmaster and several children around 10 – 11 years old. Children who look as though they were each blends of Harry and each of the girls. It’s what they say next that’s even more surprising: ‘Dad / Daddy? Mum / Mother / Mummy?’

The premise here is how Harry adjusts to his children by various other women other than Ginny (and to the new attention he’ll be getting from the women) and how the women react.

Just imagine… ’I’m married to Saint Potter?!’ ’But mummy, I always hear you telling your friends daddy’s a demon in the bedroom! Why are you calling him saint?’

Much lulz ensues; especially if some of the kids start making references to people around them.

Harry & Hermione’s twins: Daddy, isn’t that the man you told to stop annoying mummy or else you’d feed him to the basilisks?

Harry & Daphne’s son: Mum, why do you always tell Aunt Astoria that you’re not sharing Daddy?

Etc…

Even more fun if the kids’ parents show up later on.

Lord of Bones

The citadel loomed over the city, casting a bleak shadow over the landscape. Its slit-like windows gleamed with unholy light, screams of agony tormenting the frigid air. In the darkness of the night, no-one noticed the hooded, black-robed shadow making its way along the path to the monument’s doors, a black serpent-staff crowned with an emerald in one gloved hand.

Closer inspection revealed that the figure was a young man of twenty, with black hair. A great serpent coiled around him, jaundiced eyes lightly covered with a film of skin. He glided slowly but surely up the path, his footsteps muffled.

He stopped in front of the great doors of the citadel.

Halt! State your purpose!

Two men in robes stepped out of the shadows, their wands glowing. The young man tilted his head upwards slighly, revealing eyes of emerald-green.

Eyes of the death-curse.

The young man raised the staff.

Avada Kedavra.

Emerald lightning burst forth from the staff, striking one man. As thecorpse collapsed, the other man raised his wand, only for the great serpent to uncoil and strike with infernal agility.

The young man stepped over the bodies and touched the doors. He seemedto walk right through them, reaching the inner tower. Two other figures rushed to intercept him. They too fell, this time to silent columns of black fire.

He turned to his left and made his way down the corridor, dispatching the guards with spells of necromantic power, of flame and lightning and ice. He stood before the door at the end of the corridor.

The dungeons.

A wave of his hand opened the door. He stepped in and slowly made his way down the stairs.

Men and women, manacled to the walls. The stench of death and suffering. He ignored it.

Three burly youths were over three attractive young women. Two were fighting them off, despite their near nudity; one with curly brown hair and another with waist-length ebony locks. Another, a freckled redhead, was already disrobed, her captor clearly enjoying himself. Hermione Granger, Daphne Greengrass and Ginevra Weasley.

He cleared his throat. They froze.

Quickly, the three men, one a rapist, the other two would-be rapists, stood, fumbling for their wands.

The young man spoke quietly.

Avada Kedavra.

Death-lightning roared. The serpent rose, jaundiced eyes glowing. Death overtook the two would-be defilers.

One turned tail. The young man raised his hand, curling it into a fist. The rapist staggered as though exhausted, and then fell, dead.

The young man turned to the cowering women. The red-headed one was broken, but the other two stared at him, defiance in their eyes.

He took a moment to admire the view before raising his hand.

They flinched.

He reached out with his hand, a glow escaping it. Cloaks appeared overthem; wine-red for the brown-haired one, jade-green for the dark-haired one and gold for the redhead.

He turned to the manacled people, a wry grin on his face. Three years ago, he would never have imagined himself saving them. Irony at its finest.

He raised his staff and swung it in a semi-circle. The manacles openedand the prisoners were free.

He silently watched them; a gaggle of redheads, an old man, a man withgreasy hair, a werewolf.

He turned around and walked away.

Wait!

The old man called out to him.

Please, who are you?

The hood fell back. A handsome face, chiseled yet dark. Eyes of the death-curse.  Untamed hair darker than night. Lucifer in the flesh.

They recognized him; once of the Serpent House.

The Boy- Who- Lived.

Harry Potter.

Lord of Bones

Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, the Headmaster would like to see you both in his office immediately. The password is Skittles, said Professor McGonagall, drawing the attention of both Harry and Hermione. The two Gryffindors immediately left the Great Hall at the Transfiguration Mistress’s statement; one pensive, the other worried. Far behind them, Ron hungrily tore into another chicken drumstick.

Harry? Hermione asked nervously.

Yeah, Hermione?

Why do you suppose Professor Dumbledore want to see us? Is it because of our grades? Is he going to discuss giving you the Prefect position? Is he—

Hermione! laughed Harry, his pensiveness forgotten. Calm down! It’ll be fine; it’s just the beginning of the year. We can’t have got into that much trouble so quickly!

Hermione smiled at that. You never know, Harry, she teased. We’ve got a track record for that.

Harry grinned at her, causing her heart to skip a beat. Down, girl… 

You were called too? cut in another voice. Harry looked up, realizing that they were in front of the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, complete with snarling gargoyle. Susan Bones smiled at them from her position next to the statue, her strawberry-blonde hair tied back into a long braid.

Hermione smiled at her busty Hufflepuff classmate as Harry greeted her.  ‘Lo Susan. You mean you were called here too?

She isn’t the only one, called out another voice. Dusky-skinned, dark-eyed Padma Patil stepped up from the nearby stair, a composed smile on her face. Hello Harry, Hermione, greeted the Ravenclaw, Professor Flitwick asked me to wait for the last arrival.

She means me, said Daphne Greengrass, stepping out of the shadows. The Slytherin princess raised a dark eyebrow, calm blue eyes assessing the situation with a keen glance. Potter, Granger, Bones, Patil.

Hello Daphne, said Harry cheekily, letting a mischievous grin cross his face. Going to fall into my arms again?

The beautiful Slytherin scoffed. Not on your life Potter! she snapped, the shadows hiding her blush. Harry smirked at her, not noticing the intrigued looks he was receiving from the spectators of his banter. They quickly looked away when Harry turned around.

Still oblivious, Harry recited the password and strode up the stairs, the girls barely a few steps away from him. He waited until his four companions caught up to him before opening the door and stepping in.

Professor—

Mummy! Daddy!

Harry barely had the time to grunt in surprise as two blurs bowled him over. Looking around, he noticed that each of the (very surprised) girls had a crying child attached to the front of their robes, and, to his surprise, he somehow had a somewhat dusky-skinned little boy and brown-haired little girl attached to the front of his robes. He felt a sudden rush of affection for the children attached to him. Next to him, Hermione was comforting a dark-haired little boy while Daphne had a quiet little boy with the same hair holding her robe tightly and somewhat shyly. Padma had a dusky-skinned girl while Susan was embracing a little girl with hr hair color.

Congratulations, Mr. Potter, said Dumbledore amusedly. You’re a father.

Lord of Bones

Hermione woke up to a soft bed, moaning lightly at the sunlight that struck her eyes. The young woman woke up fully, realizing that she was once again in the Potter estate.

How did I get here? she wondered, confusion and the fog of sleep clouding her mind.

The memories of last night caught up to her, remembering the argument, the slap, Molly, Ginny’s hurtful words… 

Surprisingly, she did not feel sadness or despair. In fact, all she felt was a kind of relief and not a small amount of anger, towards her ex-fiancé and herself. In retrospect, Ron always was a jealous git, unwilling to further his position and resentful of those who surpassed him.

Not that he was even a great lover, the prat, she huffed to herself, remembering all those where she had to use her hand and imagination to find release, imagining herself writhing under Harry, letting Daphne eat her out… 

She blushed heavily, pushing away the memories and her overheated imagination. She suddenly felt jealous of Daphne, coming home to a lover that satisfied her in every way, if the noises two days ago were anything to vouch by.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and summoned her night-robe, tying it over her mid-thigh length nightgown before leaving her room. She walked down the stairway leading to the ground floor, wincing slightly at the cold floor’s sensation on her bare feet.

She walked past the nearby doorway, the shadows cast obscuring her. She turned her head in curiousity, only to pause in shock. She burrowed deeper into the shadow, her mind processing what she was seeing.

Harry was sitting on a chair, calmly reading a book, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. That wasn’t what drew her attention, though. Kneeling on thefloor, dressed in a provocative nightgown, was Daphne Greengrass- Potter, her lips wrapped around the head of Harry’s massive cock.

Harry himself seemingly had no reaction to his wife’s ministrations on his erection, apart from a hand curled in Daphne’s dark hair. The Slytherin bobbed her head along the length of her husband’s member, her small hand stroking what her mouth could not accomodate. Her tongue lapped at the head of his cock; his only response being a quiet but audible, Good girl.

Hermione felt her right hand rising upwards, skimming open her robe, gently pinching and rolling a hard nipple with her fingers. She whimpered gently, transfixed by the erotic sight in front of her.

Daphne continued her blowjob, releasing her hands’ hold on his member only to stroke the muscles of his powerful thighs. Harry’s free hand cupped her cheek, gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb. You really know how to suck cock, love, he said calmly, casually turning the page of his book.

Hermione slipped her fingers into her wet pussy, her thumb gently brushing her erect clit. She stood, silently watching Harry’s apparent dominance of Daphne, wondering what it would be like to have her mouth around his cock.

Daphne felt her husband’s muscles tense under her. Harry finally put his book away, carefully thrusting into his wife’s mouth before succumbing to her oral skill. Daphne did not need to be told what to do; she hungrily drank her husband’s cum, relishing each hot jet he expelled into her mouth. Even she could not take it all in, and a small stream dripped out of her mouth, trailing its way down her throat.

Outside, Hermione felt her inner muscles clamp down on her fingers in the most intense orgasm she had ever felt. Her eyes widened as she took in the couple. He’s still hard?! Hermione licked her lips, taking in Daphne’s look. This is normal for her, she realized.

Daphne swooped down for Round 2, only to be stopped by a powerful pair of hands.

My turn, said Harry, demonstrating a prodigious display of lust-fueled strength as he hoisted his wife over his shoulders, his hands cupping her arse. Daphne squeaked as she felt her husband’s tongue sweep across her nether lips before diving in like a man dying of thirst.

Outside, Hermione watched wide-eyed as Harry drove Daphne to orgasm with just his tongue. While Ron had been more than willing to recieve blowjobs (and Hermione could readily admit she was no slouch in that department), he had been less than accomodating when it was time to return the favor. Harry however, seemed to enjoy it.

Daphne shrieked again as herhusband’s teeth nipped at her clit, drawing out another wail of pleasure. She felt Harry’s grin. What’s he planning? Her question was answered when, midway through her orgasm, Harry impaled her on his cock, pulling down her nightgown to reveal a pair of large, firm breasts. She shrieked at the intrusion, her inner muscles constricting Harry’s erection. Baby, that’s so good! she whispered, enjoying the sensation of her husband suckling at her breast while simultaneously slamming his hips into her.

Hermione frantically thrust her fingers into her pussy, her gaze on the junction of the lovers’ thighs, wondering how Daphne managed to take it all in, and wondering if she could do the same.

Harry pulled away from his wife, feeling her orgasm massage his cock. Daphne moaned at her husband’s frantic thrusts, thanking every god and goddess she knew of for his stamina. She felt another orgasm approaching, just as her husband smashed his lips against her, pulling her to him just as their orgasms hit. With a cry, Daphne came, relishing each pulse of her husband’s cock in her as he groaned into her neck.

Outside, Hermione muffled a scream as she came, her release the strongest one yet.

I love you, Harry whispered into Daphne’s ear before gently kissing her. Daphne reluctantly disengaged from her lover, murmuring an I love you too, before smirking slightly.

I’m going to clean up, stud. As tempting as it is, I’m not walking around our home like this. Harry gave his wife a little swat on the rump, enjoying her shocked squeak. Go ahead, babe.

Daphne swept out of the room, but not before adjusting her nightgown. She smiled wickedly at the hidden Hermione. Next time, just get on your knees and start sucking, if you want to join. She gave the former Gryffindor a flirtatious wink before walking away, leaving Hermione blushing with several thoughts running through her mind.

Lord of Bones

Interlude

Harry quickly slipped out of his bedroom, clad in only a shirt and boxers.Discreetly he made his way down the stairs, gliding over the steps and floors like a wraith. He passed by a patrolling Aizagora, pausing only to scratch the chimera’s ears and eliciting a contented purr from the leonine head. Finally, he opened the door of the Manor, stepping outside before silently shutting the door.

It was time to let the dragon loose.

Had he been more observant, he would have noticed a brown-haired young woman on the balcony above him, watching him curiously.

Harry stepped beyond the balcony’s shadow, eyes closed as his form began to change. Hands became talons, wings erupted from shoulders, and a lashing tail grew from his tailbone.

Finally, he opened his eyes, relishing in the power of his new form.

Hermione watched, mesmerized by the change.

Harry was beautiful.

Fully eighty feet long from fanged mouth to lashing tail, the dragon cut an impressive figure. Great wings spread from his shoulders, easily capable of supporting the sleek body and powerful limbs. Twisted, bone-white horns swept out of his skull, accentuated by the long, spiked frill that ran downhis spine to the tip of his stinger-tipped tail.

Silently, the behemoth took flight.

Hermione watched open-mouthed at the aerial acrobatics the wyrm executed in mid-air, before it finally headed away from the Manor and disappeared into the darkness of the night.   After watching the dragon’s long tail vanish, Hermione turned back to her bed and swept herself under the sheets, realizing at that very instant how deep the gulf between her and Harry still was. Deep within her, she still felt the harsh sting of loss.

And a renewed urge to regain his affection and trust.

 

June 1997

Molly Weasley frowned.

Really, Harry was being utterly unreasonable! She and Arthur had the rightto the master bedroom, given that they were senior to him. It was the way things were, in her mind.

The poor boy obviously was too involved with these ridiculous Lord and Lady ideas — all archaic notions! Really, the boy did need to get with Ginny; she would be perfect for him, as her dear daughter would be able to ingratiate some sense into Harry about respecting one’s elders. She’d also have to do something about those guardians; such dark beasts did not deserve to live.

That her daughter would get a noble title and the Potter wealth from getting Harry was a reward in Molly’s mind. All Harry needed was a little push in the right direction, away from Hermione who belonged with Ron anyway. She’d have to do something about that, too…

She brought out a small, stoppered vial, looking at it carefully before pocketing it again. Soon all would be as it should.

As she left the hall, she failed to notice several hidden imps disappear, only to reappear in the master bedroom.

It is as you feared! What are your orders? they hissed in tandem.

Harry sighed.

Let me deal with it, he commanded. The imps bowed and vanished.

Harry closed the book of fire magic he’d been reading, replacing it on hisshelf before leaving the room and descending the stairs. As he stepped offthe final step, a sleepy groan drew his attention. He turned around… and stopped cold at the foot of the stairs, staring at a yawning Hermione before turning away quickly, stamping down the dragon’s primal commands and his body’s own response.

Hermione in a short, white nightgown with a barely-belted nightrobe over her wasn’t helping his libido any.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, turning away and beginning his walk into the kitchen… only to nearly walk into a clenched, swinging fist and a cry of YOU EFFING BASTARD!

Ron.

Ron Weasley wasn’t a very smart person.

The fact that he had a horrible temper didn’t help him any.

In retrospect, it all started with that book Ginny have him, the one aboutwooing the girl you liked. It was a fairly good book in his limited opinion, and following its instructions had led him to bagging Hermione.

It had been fairly tame at first, just a few kisses here and there. But hehad managed to convince Hermione to go further… and he had succeeded.

The sensation of her warm, wet mouth around his cock was heavenly. While he didn’t really go down on her, her own oral skills were good enough for the both of them. But she didn’t want to go the distance.

Gryffindor’s balls, she hadn’t even let him see her tits yet!

Keeping Harry in the dark had been exhilarating. Finally, he had somethingthe Boy-Who-Lived did not! Keeping her reminded that their relationship came first had paid off, even though she didn’t let him go all the way with her. That is, of course, until he’d grown careless.

He took up with Lavender soon after starting Hogwarts. While the blonde wasn’t as talented as Hermione in the oral department, she was at least willing to put out. It was nine months into his tryst with Lavender that Hermione walked in… and broke off their relationship.

He argued and pleaded with her, before finally deciding that he’d let her cool off and get her back later; maybe then she’d be more willing to spreadher legs for him. He’d even gone to find Harry and asked around for him.

Only to receive cold shoulders from his dorm-mates. Harry never slept in the Tower anymore and only showed up for classes and meals. Didn’t he understand there were things more important than whatever he was doing, like the Quidditch Cup and getting Hermione back with his best mate? Every time he approached Harry, Dean, Neville or Seamus would run interference.

His only condolence was that Hermione hadn’t run crying to Harry — he was avoiding her as well.

Then it changed. He didn’t know how or why, but Hermione was now always behind Harry. Then it struck him.

It was the most obvious conclusion.

The tart had spread her legs for Harry and given Harry what rightfully belonged to him! That was the only explanation!

He had been angry, of course. But the fact that Harry and Hermione were never around gave him precious little to vent on.

Then he’d found out that his family would have to live at Potter Manor to keep them safe. He’d fumed and sulked; Harry had a lordship, a goddamned manor, was rich and had his woman! His mum had cheered him up though, saying that Harry’s wealth would be shared with them once Ginny married Harry. Ronsmiled at that; soon he’d have everything he’d wished for. Even Hermione would be his again once Harry was out of the picture.

When he’d arrived at Potter Manor, Harry had the nerve to dismiss him and his mum completely, simply telling them where they were sleeping and where not to go. That really got to Ron; especially with the way Harry expected them to obey his commands. Then the chimera and basilisk had been released and Harry had to save them again.

It was Harry’s fault in the first place! He was the one with the dark creatures!

Even at dinner, Harry had been a ponce! When Ron’s mum demanded the respect due to her, Harry had insulted her and Ginny! Ron had no doubt that Harry was sleeping with Hermione, and yet Harry questioned Ginny’s virtue! He should’ve known his place!

And now, seeing Harry walk by without even noticing him was the last straw. He brought his fist up and swung it.

You effing bastard!

Harry dodged. Ron overextended and fell.

I warned you. There was a sickening snap. Ron screamed as Harry broke his arm, letting the bone rip through his flesh.

A flick of his cloak and Harry was gone.

Lord of Bones

Well, bugger, commented Blaise as the trio caught sight of the massive snake-skin that littered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Harry prodded it with his wand, now transfigured into an ornate black staff, an expression of curiosity on his face. The glistening skin collapsed, the touch of the staff reducing it to dust in a matter of moments.

At least we know what to expect, he commented dryly. A pity the creature didn’t get rid of dear Draco as well. Tonks would’ve been ecstatic. Harry turned to the third member of the troupe, an expression of contempt on his face. Get in front, Gilderoy, he instructed. Blaise conjured several shards of ice behind the blonde man, an expression of utter disdain on his face. Now! growled the Zabini heir, sending one shard at him. The man yelped and leaped forward.

… That was payback for trying to flirt with your mum in Flourish and Blotts, wasn’t it? commented Harry, watching the byplay with an amused smirk. Blaise’s audible grinding teeth answered his question. Having spent the summer at the Zabini estate, Harry couldn’t really blame the man. Mariana Zabini was one of the most attractive women he had ever seen and one of the most affectionate as well (as both he and Blaise could attest to, given that they endured their fair share of hair-ruffling, embraces and affectionate squeezes). He knew better than to voice it out around the Zabini heir, though, given his over­protectiveness towards his mother.

The highlight of the summer came when Harry and Blaise were accosted by Gilderoy Lockhart while in Flourish and Blotts. A visibly unamused Mrs. Zabini stepped in, got complimented by Lockhart, responded with a curse and ushered both Harry and Blaise away. Harry muffled a snicker at the memory.

Turning his attention back to his friend and his teacher, he nudged the man with his staff, forcing him to start moving. As they strode down the corridor of the chamber, Harry noted the marks on the floor — something very large had just moved around here. At the end of the corridor, a pair of massive double-doors decorates with a pair of emerald-eyed stone serpents loomed threateningly over them. Harry smiled thinly, prodding Lockhart forward. Time to do your job, professor, he hissed malevolently.

Lockhart squealed and keeled over. Harry and Blaise shared dumbfounded looks over the man’s unconscious body before the Italian boy spoke up, Damn, I owe Davis five galleons. He really does scream like a little girl. Harry shook his head and turned to the door. Keep an eye on him, Blaise, he requested. The olive-skinned Slytherin nodded as Harry turned and literally melted into the door, emerging on the other side.

The Zabini scion shook his head, I’ve really got to get him to teach me how he does that, he muttered, keeping an eye on the unconscious professor.

Behind the doorway, Harry swept across the floor, taking in the massive statue. He raised an eyebrow; the sculptor hadn’t done a very good likeness of Slytherin, apparently. The statue resembled Goyle more than the cultured nobleman’s bust he had seen earlier. He caught sight of a red-haired girl on the floor and strode towards her. He prodded her with his staff, taking note of the pale skin and almost shriveled features.

The necromantic taint around her verified his suspicions.

She will not wake, whispered a voice behind him.

Harry didn’t bother turning around. That would be rather obvious, given that you’ve been siphoning her life-force to grant yourself a semblance of life, or unlife as the case may be, Tom. Or should I call you Lord Voldemort?

The specter smiled mockingly. Ah, so you figured it out then? I must say that I’m impressed, Harry. You truly are as brilliant as that poor child over there thought. You should have seen it Harry. She’d go on and on about how Harry Potter crushed her dreams by being sorted into Slytherin, on how he was so brilliant but could have been more had he been sorted into Gryffindor… 

I wondered why she was alternating between blushes and glares whenever I bumped into her, Harry said calmly. In all due honesty, Ravenclaw would have been my second choice. I prefer leaving foolish bravery to the fatalistic.

Riddle burst out laughing. And what do you call walking into the lair of a basilisk with no protection?

Defending my interests. You see, the serpent might be of use to me one day. I’d rather not have Dumbledore intervene and dispose it when you finally go too far with your genocidal tendencies. In short Tom, you are going to die here.

The smile fell off Riddle’s face. How dare—

Harry held up a book he pulled from the girl’s limp hand. Recognize this, Tom?

Riddle’s eyes narrowed.

It’s a rather fascinating piece of work isn’t it? The credit goes to Blaise, though. He pointed some rather interesting things out – such as the fact that a possessing spirit is destroyed when the anchor that tethers it to the world of the living is destroyed, Harry smiled at the panic on Riddle’s face. Goodbye, Tom.

Even as Riddle’s hand rose up, Harry muttered a spell under his breath. Two crackling rays of darkness leapt out of his palm, hovering over the book. The rays struck home and the book seemed to melt, dripping ink as it fell into itself.

Riddle screamed, a scream of loss and unendurable torment, even as his form began to burn into nothingness, leaving not even ash in its wake. Harry looked on impassively, watching even after Riddle’s form was blasted into nothingness.

A stir and a soft moan drew his attention to the red-haired bundle. Ginny Weasley looked at him, terror in her gaze. I didn’t mean – I didn’t know—

Shut up, said Harry. You’re coming with me. Get up and start walking.

Trembling, Ginny stood up, flinching as Harry’s staff was gestured in her direction. Are you waiting for something? Like the basilisk, perhaps?

Her startled squeak and subsequent run towards the entrance brought a smile to his face. Harry turned to the statue. I’ll be back, he promised softly.

Turning back, he commanded the doors to open, where he found Blaise grinning and Lockhart bleeding from a head wound. He woke up and tried to memory-charm me. Twat was holding the wand the other way round. Blaise noticed the redhead looking at him fearfully, watching as she flinched away from him. Jumpy, isn’t she?

Harry shrugged and began to walk back to the entrance, followed by Blaise, Ginny and Lockhart. They left the Chamber ( Harry pausing only to seal it away) and made their way to the Headmaster’s office. Harry grabbed Ginny’s arm and unceremoniously dumped her in the room, where her family (Good Lord, they’re all freckled! Blaise would comment later on) waited, along with an anxious Headmaster, Deputy Headmistress and Slytherin House Head.

Harry tuned out the Weasley matriarch’s wailing and his four classmates’ suspicious glances, turning to Snape and Mc Gonagall, who had been watching with an unreadable expression and a shocked look respectively. The Slytherin Head spoke up, Potter, Zabini, come with me.

The Potions Master walked out, followed by the boys. Outside, Snape turned to the boys. Explain.

Riddle was possessing the girl via the diary, sir. We dispatched him in the Chamber, explained Harry.

And you did not inform any of the Professors, why?

Because we wanted the basilisk alive, sir. Better to have something of that magnitude on our side with Harry controlling it rather than allow it to be destroyed and lose a valuable asset, explained Blaise calmly. Snape’s mouth twitched. He turned to Harry. How surprisingly Slytherin of you, Potter. You might not be as great a dunderhead I thought you were.

Thank you, sir, replied Harry neutrally.

The Weasleys, of course, will be intent on speaking to you two as will the Headmaster. I suggest you be as discreet as possible.

Of course, sir, replied Blaise. They turned to leave and return to their dorms.

Oh, and Potter, Zabini?

Sir?

Fifty points to Slytherin. Each. With that, the greasy-haired man swept back into the Headmaster’s office, leaving two very surprised students behind him.