There is an R-18 scene in this chapter.
Chapter 14 (~10800 words):
– Harry –
I hadn't been expecting an asshole professor like Snape to save a dickhead student like Ron Weasley, but maybe I'd misjudged the guy. Snape had actually been one of the first professors to rush over when Ron started convulsing on the floor, obviously poisoned.
"This is quite an exciting school you have here, Harry," Gabrielle joked next to me.
"Usually, we get further into the school year ourselves before encountering such overt murder attempts," Fleur added.
Nearby, my girlfriend Hermione sputtered incredulously at those words. "What kind of school do you two even attend? I thought Beauxbatons was supposed to be a high class institution?"
Gabrielle chuckled lightly. "Oui! It is a high class institution! Very elite!"
Fleur, on my other side, nodded alongside her sister. "Very elite—and filled with backstabbing aristocratic teenagers trained by their parents to always try and get ahead of everyone else. It keeps things interesting if nothing else."
Huh? They never really talked about their school much in their letters. This was kind of reminding me of an American teen drama show. Backstabbing angsty magic teenagers seemed pretty on brand at the very least. Dudley used to watch some of those CW shows.
I snapped my attention back on what was going on.
Despite glaring at their brother earlier, Fred and George immediately dropped to the floor beside Ginny, their joking demeanor replaced instantly with tight, fearful expressions. Their faces turned pale, their usual playful energy vanished as they exchanged panicked glances.
"What the hell is going on?" Fred demanded, his voice strained as he quickly knelt next to Ron.
"Did he eat something bad? Poison?" George's voice rose anxiously, his eyes wide as he tried desperately to steady Ron's shaking limbs.
Ginny shook her head sharply, visibly trembling as she cradled Ron's head carefully. "I don't know," she snapped, her voice tense and frightened. "He was being an asshole like usual and then he just collapsed. One second he was fine, the next—" she swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears, "the next he was on the ground, shaking like this."
Around us, whispers grew louder, the other students murmuring in alarm and confusion.
Fred pressed his hands firmly against Ron's trembling shoulders, struggling to hold him still as Ron's convulsions intensified. George cursed under his breath, gripping Ron's wrists tightly, fighting to stop his flailing limbs from causing further injury.
Ginny, her face drained of color and panic clear in her wide eyes, cradled Ron's head in her lap, her fingers anxiously brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of his hair plastered across his forehead. "Ron, stay with us, you stubborn idiot," she whispered urgently, her voice shaking.
"Move, you idiots!" Snape barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the panicked whispers around us. He knelt swiftly, his black robes swirling dramatically around him.
He yanked Ron's jaw open, forcing it wide despite Ron's strained groans and choking coughs. Snape's fingers moved quickly, pressing the bezoar stone firmly past Ron's lips and guiding it down his throat. Ron's body jerked and spasmed, his hands clawing helplessly at the air, but Snape held him down resolutely.
The murmurs around the table grew louder, a mix of curiosity and unease filling the air as everyone stared at Ron being levitated off the floor.
Snape, still scowling, raised his wand and carefully lifted Ron's limp body, guiding him through the air with surprising care. "To the infirmary," he snapped sharply to Fred, George, and Ginny. "Follow along, and quickly—your brother is clearly too incompetent to even check his own cup for poisons," Snape grumbled under his breath.
Ginny turned towards me, her eyes filled with uncertainty. I quickly flashed her a reassuring smile, hoping to ease some of her worry. Her tense shoulders relaxed just a bit, and she managed a faint smile in return, nodding at me before swiftly hurrying after Fred and George.
Fleur and Gabrielle both noticed my lingering gaze on Ginny as she hurried away. Fleur leaned in close, her soft breath brushing my ear as she teased quietly, "Are you involved with that girl, Harry? She seemed rather important to you just now."
Gabrielle pouted dramatically on my other side, her bright eyes narrowing slightly in playful jealousy. "Harry," she whispered in a mock-hurt tone, pressing herself a bit closer against me, her warm, delicate shoulder touching mine, "I thought you preferred our company?"
Hermione, sitting on Fleur's other side, scoffed loudly, clearly unimpressed by their teasing.
Fleur leaned closer to Hermione with a playful smile. "Oh Hermione, don't be jealous. Harry's heart is big enough for all of us," she teased, her voice soft and melodic. "Harry has written about his relationship with you, and you sound quite delightful. I would love us to be friends..."
Gabrielle giggled lightly from my other side, her cheeks tinged a soft pink as she glanced at Hermione with a playful, teasing expression. She pressed her body slightly closer to mine. "And, you know, there's something else of Harry's that's certainly big enough for everyone to share," she added with a suggestive wink.
I coughed awkwardly into my hand.
Nearby, Jasmine, Lavender, and Parvati overheard Gabrielle's comment, their faces instantly turning a deep shade of red. The trio exchanged wide-eyed looks, leaning closer to whisper animatedly to each other, their gazes occasionally darting towards me. I could barely make out snippets of their hushed conversation but clearly caught phrases like, "Is he really that big?" and "I've always wondered…"
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying not to meet anyone's gaze directly, embarrassment warring with a strange sense of pride.
Although professor McGonagall was standing right behind the three girls. And they hadn't noticed.
"Miss McKinnon, Miss Lavender, and Miss Parvati," she began, her voice crisp and authoritative. "This is hardly the time or place for such inappropriate discussions. I suggest you show some decorum immediately."
The three girls blushed deeply, casting embarrassed glances towards the floor. Jasmine muttered a quiet, mortified apology, while Lavender and Parvati quickly nodded in agreement, clearly wishing they could melt into the benches beneath them.
McGonagall sighed, her severe features softening just a bit as she scanned the table, eyes sharp and observant. "Is everyone else quite alright? Were there any other problems?"
A few mumbled assurances of 'fine' and 'no issues' rose from the Gryffindor students around me, reassuring the professor.
McGonagall nodded curtly, though her eyes lingered thoughtfully on the now-empty space where Ron had collapsed moments before.
"Very well," she said, sounding slightly relieved, "it appears Mr. Weasley was the sole target of this attack. Rest assured, the matter will be thoroughly investigated."
With another deep sigh, McGonagall turned gracefully on her heel, her long robes swishing softly behind her as she returned to the staff table.
My eyes then flicked towards the teachers seated at the high table, and I noticed Professor Dumbledore looking directly at me, his eyes twinkling at me curiously. It was no secret that Ron and I "didn't get along" but I wasn't going to go out of my way and poison the guy.
Not so publicly at least...
All I could do was give the Headmaster a shrug. I honestly had no clue why Ron, of all people, had been targeted with poison. I would have figured someone would have tried to kill his gross fat rat first, if nothing else.
Dumbledore acknowledged my shrug with a slight nod before he slowly stood, commanding attention from the entire Great Hall. The loud chatter gradually faded away, replaced by eager anticipation from every corner.
"My dear students from Hogwarts, along with all the guests here tonight," Dumbledore began warmly, "I must apologize for the unexpected disturbance we experienced earlier. Hogwarts always seeks to provide a safe haven, and such occurrences are rare and unwelcome here." He paused, giving weight to his words before continuing more cheerfully. "However, we mustn't allow this unfortunate event to overshadow our joy at welcoming our esteemed guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons." He gestured gracefully toward the tables holding students from the visiting schools, offering them a warm, welcoming smile. "I'm certain our guests are weary and hungry after their long journey. So, without further ado, let us put aside our worries for the moment and enjoy a feast worthy of our new friends and cherished students alike."
The tension in the room noticeably eased as plates filled magically with delicious food.
The food cooked by the house elves was delicious as always, filling the Great Hall with mouthwatering aromas. In fact, I feel like the food was even better than normal. It kind of reminded me of the food from the Sitri manor in the underworld.
But what truly made the feast unforgettable was the company sitting next to me. Fleur and Gabrielle, the stunning French Veela sisters, were both vying eagerly for my attention, making the meal far more entertaining than usual.
Fleur leaned toward me first, her soft blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and brushing gently against my arm. Her bright blue eyes twinkled playfully as she held up a plump, juicy grape to my lips. "Come now, Harry," she purred teasingly, "let me spoil you a little."
Before I could reply, Gabrielle giggled and pressed even closer, her warmth radiating against my side. Her delicate fingers held a small piece of chocolate cake, and she smiled sweetly, her voice melodic and inviting. "Oh no, Harry," she countered softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You must taste this meat first. It's absolutely divine."
Hermione leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly in playful annoyance as she addressed Fleur and Gabrielle. "Don't get too comfortable sitting next to Harry at every meal," she said firmly. "He is officially MY boyfriend, after all, and you two are technically supposed to be at the Ravenclaw table with the rest of your school."
Fleur chuckled mischievously as she turned to Hermione. "Oh, Hermione," she purred, "rules are merely suggestions, especially when good company is involved."
Gabrielle nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly," she agreed. "Besides, Harry doesn't seem to mind our presence at all."
Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. "I'm sure Harry enjoys all this extra attention a little too much," she countered.
Hermione shook her and grumbled, "Ugh, I can already tell this is going to be a thing. And Professor McGonagall is already watching us closely enough..."
The mention of our stern professor made me glance quickly towards the staff table, catching McGonagall's keen eyes briefly observing us. She raised an eyebrow slightly but turned away with a faint shake of her head, apparently deciding our little group wasn't causing any immediate trouble.
Or maybe she was just too worried about what happened to Ron...
When the feast finally ended, everyone around me sighed contentedly, leaning back in their seats, stomachs full from the incredible desserts.
Dumbledore rose once more, and the room quickly fell silent. His gentle voice carried easily, drawing everyone's attention back to him as he began explaining the details of the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. I glanced around the room, noticing that most students wore looks of eager anticipation—clearly, the whispers and gossip had already filled everyone in on most details.
"As you know," Dumbledore started, "this year, each of our three participating schools—Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons—will have two champions representing them. All participants must be at least eighteen years old to ensure everyone's safety."
A murmur of excitement rippled through the hall. My Aunt Sona and I exchanged confident smiles as I glanced in her direction. At nineteen, we were comfortably within the age limit.
Dumbledore raised a hand gently, and the chatter quieted again. "However," he continued, "there will be some exciting changes to our traditional tournament. Rather than three events spaced out during the year, we will hold multiple smaller competitions. This change will keep our champions continuously challenged and on their toes constantly!"
Excited whispers rose again. Everyone was really getting into it.
"Additionally," Dumbledore said, his voice ringing clear, "there will also be various smaller competitions open to students who are not selected champions. Each event will offer valuable prizes and the opportunity to showcase individual skills!"
That was cool, otherwise it felt like it would have been a real waste for entire schools to show up at Hogwarts and only two students from each school participated.
A loud cheer erupted around the hall at this announcement. The prospect of more opportunities to participate visibly energized everyone.
But Dumbledore wasn't finished. He raised both hands slightly to regain everyone's attention. Once the room quieted again. He really knew how to give dramatic speeches and work a crowd. "Finally, thanks to a recent generous increase in the school's budget, I am delighted to announce that Hogwarts will be hosting an inter-school Quidditch tournament throughout the entire school year!"
The Great Hall practically shook with cheers at this announcement. Students from all four Hogwarts houses clapped enthusiastically, their faces alight with pure joy.
Gabrielle, sitting next to me, bounced eagerly in her seat, clapping her hands and squealing excitedly. I did my best not to stare at her perky breasts as they bounced up and down excitedly with her, since there were so many eyes on us. "Oh, this is wonderful!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling brilliantly. "Harry, we must watch the matches together!"
I laughed at her infectious enthusiasm, nodding with amusement. "Of course," I replied warmly, though my own interest in Quidditch wasn't as strong. Honestly, I would have found myself enjoying the sport a lot more if it had an hour-long time limit and there was no seeker.
Fleur caught my eye and offered a small smile and shrug—she wasn't too interested in Quidditch either, but she seemed amused at Gabrielle's spirited reaction.
Fleur shook her head gently, smiling fondly at her younger sister. "You're always so dramatic, Gabrielle," she teased affectionately.
Gabrielle turned to Fleur, practically glowing with excitement. "Exciting doesn't begin to describe it, Fleur! Imagine the drama, the competition, the atmosphere—it's going to be incredible!"
"If you say so, my sweet younger sister..."
Gabrielle pouted slightly, glancing toward me. "You'll be excited with me, won't you, Harry?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes dramatically.
"Alright, alright," I conceded warmly. "I'll try my best to match your enthusiasm."
…
(R-18 ahead)
I was finally back in my private room after the feast, still buzzing from the food, the announcements, and everything in between. Fleur and Gabrielle had been draped around me the whole evening, whispering teasing things and brushing against my arm every chance they got.
I had no doubt either—or both—would've followed me up to my room if they'd had the chance. But, their headmistress wasn't having any of that. The woman was towering, easily the tallest woman I'd ever seen.
Right after Dumbledore's speech, she'd appeared out of nowhere, cast one sharp look at the girls, and ordered them to return to their carriage. Fleur and Gabrielle had pouted, trying to argue, but one stern glare shut it down. They threw me mournful, longing glances as they were marched off.
I was halfway through stripping for bed, peeling off my last layer of clothes and letting them fall into a pile at my feet. The soft cotton of my undershirt clung for a moment before I tugged it free, exposing my chest to the cool night air. My trousers slid down my legs easily, and I stepped out of them, bare now except for the slight tension still curling in my lower belly.
The lingering arousal from the evening—Fleur's teasing, Gabrielle's closeness—had left me half-hard, and as I stood there naked, my cock hung thick and twitching.
A knock on the door cut through the silence.
Lyra and Lyna, my maids, were far too bold to bother knocking. If they knew I was undressed, they'd see it as an invitation, not a deterrent. I expected them to burst in while giggling.
"Yeah?" I called, not making any move to cover myself. Spreading out my senses a bit, I already knew who it was.
The door creaked open and Hermione stepped inside. She stopped in her tracks. Her eyes locked on mine just long enough to register I was naked, then dropped instantly, raking down my chest, pausing at the sharp cut of my abs, and then landing squarely on my cock.
It twitched again under her stare.
"Oh," she breathed out, voice barely above a whisper.
I didn't cover up. I didn't move. "You just going to stand there, or...?" I asked casually, raising an eyebrow.
Her eyes flicked back up to mine, but the heat in her expression didn't fade. "I—I was coming to talk, but..."
"But you saw something better to look at?" I teased.
Hermione stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. She licked her lips, eyes dragging slowly down again. I watched the flush bloom across her cheeks, a rich, dark pink that spread all the way to her ears.
She didn't answer immediately. Her gaze lingered, bold now, eyes tracing every line of my torso, then flicking back down. I saw her pupils dilate just slightly. Her breath hitched. "I... came to talk," she said finally, her voice uneven. "But you're... very much not dressed."
I let out a low chuckle, breaking the thick silence between us. "You know," I said, my voice a little rougher now, "this is the first time you've ever seen me completely naked." My cock twitched again under her stare, stiffening just a little more with the heat radiating off her flushed face. "Do you like what you see?"
Without waiting for her answer, I reached down and stroked myself slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on hers. My fingers curled around my shaft, giving it a lazy pull from base to tip. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Her face, already bright red, somehow managed to go even deeper.
Her lips parted, and for a long moment she didn't speak—just stared. Her eyes were wide, pupils dark and dilated. When she finally did answer, her voice was barely a whisper. "Yes. Yes, I do."
I grinned at that, then turned away, giving her a full view of my bare back and arse as I walked across the room. I perched on the edge of the bed, legs spread slightly apart, making no effort to hide anything from her gaze. I leaned back on my hands and tilted my head, watching her as she hovered by the door.
"So," I said, a bit more serious now, "what are you here for?"
Hermione blinked, her thoughts visibly scrambling to catch up. She hesitated, then shook her head like she was trying to clear it. "I came to talk," she started, stepping closer. "About Ron. About him getting poisoned. It's weird, Harry. It's... it feels strange? Why him, and not—um—you to be honest?" she pointed out.
I nodded once. "Yeah. I've been thinking the same thing." I had been expecting one of the junior Death Eaters to try something against The-Boy-Who-Lived at some point. Nothing yet though. "I'm sure this is a topic for another time, though," I told Hermione. "Unless you just came here to talk?"
She paused mid-step. Her eyes fell again to my body, and her gaze lingered. Her tongue darted out, running over her bottom lip slowly. "You know what?" she murmured, her voice changing—lower now, huskier. She took another step toward me. "I don't care about talking about Ron anymore."
I laughed. Not mocking—just amused. "I figured," I said, my voice low.
She was only a few steps away now, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo. It was something floral and soft. She didn't move to sit. Just stood there, staring at me like she didn't know whether to run or reach out and touch me.
I raised an eyebrow. "You know," I said, my tone teasing now, "I've never seen you completely naked either." Her breath hitched again. I leaned forward slightly. "Although," I added, voice dropping, "I did get a pretty damn good look at your beautiful, perky breasts yesterday... before we got interrupted by my mum."
And wasn't that a shame…
Hermione obviously agreed with me, because without a word she began stripping out of her robes. I sat back and watched while the fabric slid from her shoulders and fell to the floor. Layer by layer, she revealed smooth, pale skin, until she was standing in nothing but a white bra and panties. The contrast made her look even more vulnerable, her chest rising and falling faster under my stare.
She hesitated for half a second, then reached behind her back. I heard the faint click of the clasp, and her bra slid down her arms, exposing her breasts. They weren't huge, but they were firm, round, and perfectly shaped, her pink nipples stiffening in the cool air. I remembered how they tasted on my tongue yesterday, and my cock jerked hard in response.
Her hands moved lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. She tugged them down slowly, almost teasing me, and I leaned forward as the last barrier slid past her thighs.
My breath caught when I saw her pussy for the first time — soft pink lips framed by neatly trimmed curls that matched the wild hair on her head. She stood there, flushed and fidgeting under my hungry gaze, but she didn't cover herself. My cock was painfully hard now, twitching with every beat of my heart. "You're absolutely beautiful," I told her, my voice rough.
Her blush deepened, but she smiled, shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the other. "You really think so?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling but hopeful.
"I don't think," I said, standing and stepping closer, my erection brushing against her thigh as I stopped in front of her. "I know." I closed the distance between us.
Our mouths crashed together, hot and hungry, her tongue sliding into my mouth as I pulled her against me. Her body was soft and warm, her breasts pressing into my chest as her hands gripped at my shoulders.
My cock throbbed hard between us, and when she shifted her hips forward, it nestled right between her thighs. She moaned into the kiss as I ground against her, the thick head rubbing through the slick heat of her pussy, separated only by the barest brush of skin.
She shivered, clinging tighter, her breath hot against my cheek as she whispered between kisses, "Oh Maou, Harry…"
I held her ass firmly in both hands, grinding my length up and down along her slit. The swollen tip dragged against her folds, parting them slightly, coating me in her wetness with every slow thrust. Her moans vibrated against my lips, each one sharper than the last as I rubbed my cock over her clit again and again.
We staggered together toward the bed, lips locked, our bodies grinding like we couldn't get close enough. I collapsed back onto the mattress, propping myself up on my elbows, my cock standing tall and slick, pointing up at her. My chest heaved, my pulse hammering in my ears.
She bit her lower lip, eyes fixed on me with raw, nervous lust as she crawled onto the bed. Her thighs spread, smooth and trembling, as she hovered just over me, her pussy glistening for me to see.
Her voice shook as she admitted, "It's my first time."
I reached up, brushing my thumb gently across her flushed cheek, but my words came out low and rough. "Then I'll make sure you'll never forget it."
She nodded, biting her lip harder, one hand reaching down to wrap around my cock. Her hands were so soft. Her small fingers barely fit around the thick shaft, and she guided me forward, pressing the swollen head right against her slick entrance. She whimpered at the contact, thighs trembling, eyes fluttering shut as the tip pressed firmly against her.
"Relax," I murmured, sliding my hands up her hips to steady her. "Take your time, love. I want to feel every inch of you."
Her breath hitched as she sank down just the tiniest bit, the head stretching her tight walls. She gasped sharply, her nails digging into my chest as the thick tip popped inside her.
"Oh—fuck—" she moaned, her voice raw with shock and pleasure, hips rocking slightly as her pussy clenched around me.
I groaned loud, the sensation of her wet lower lips squeezing around me making my cock twitch hard inside her. "Maou, you feel incredible," I growled, my hands gripping her hips as I fought the urge to slam up into her.
She whimpered again, adjusting, then slowly lowered herself further, inch by inch, swallowing more of me with every shaky breath. Her thighs quivered as her pussy stretched, dripping wet around my thick shaft.
I could see her struggling between the sting and the flood of pleasure, her face flushed, her body trembling as she finally sank halfway down. Her cunt squeezed me so tight I could barely think, only groan helplessly beneath her.
"You're doing so good," I panted, my hands kneading her hips. "Fuck, you're perfect."
Her cunt was so wet and tight that I could feel every throb of her body around me as she hovered halfway down my cock. Her walls squeezed me like a fist, and the warmth radiating from her core made my whole body shudder. I was buried inside her to the hilt of my shaft, or nearly so—just enough that I could feel a resistance at the tip, that last barrier still holding her back.
Hermione trembled on top of me, her nails dragging across my chest, her breathing ragged and uneven. I cupped her hips firmly, grounding her, my voice low and steady as I whispered, "You're beautiful. You can do this."
She looked down at me with wide, shining eyes, her lip caught between her teeth. "I'm so happy you're my first," she whispered, voice trembling with raw emotion. Then she took a deep breath, tightened her grip on my shoulders, and let gravity do the rest.
Her ass slammed down against my thighs with a wet slap, her body jerking as my cock punched through her hymen and drove into her cunt to the very base. The sudden warmth and pressure swallowed me whole, her pussy clamping down hard around my shaft like it never wanted to let go!
Hermione let out a muffled scream, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes screwed shut. Her whole body shook, chest heaving, sweat starting to bead along her collarbones.
I rubbed her stomach gently, sliding my palms down to squeeze her trembling thighs. "It's okay, baby," I murmured, my own voice rough with restraint. "I've got you. Just breathe. Let your body get used to me."
She kept her hand pressed to her lips, muffling the sounds spilling out of her throat. But then, after a few shaky breaths, she lowered it again. To my surprise she giggled, though her voice was hoarse. "That wasn't pain," she gasped, eyes sparkling despite the flush on her face. "That scream was pure pleasure~"
Hot damn! She really had me for a second there!
I groaned, my cock twitching deep inside her, feeling every squeeze of her walls as they adjusted around me. The tightness was almost unbearable, and every spasm of her cunt milked me, dragging me deeper into her heat.
Her hips shifted slightly, experimenting, and her breath caught in a long, needy moan. "You're so fucking big, Harry," she gasped, her voice breaking on the words. "It feels so good."
Her pussy fluttered around me as she lifted her hips a fraction and dropped them again, testing the stretch. The friction sent lightning straight up my spine. I gripped her hips harder, guiding her as she moved, my eyes glued to the sight of my cock glistening with her wetness every time she rose an inch before taking me back inside.
"Maou, look at you," I groaned, thrusting my hips up slightly to meet her movements. "Riding me like you were made for it."
Hermione moaned loudly, her body rocking in unsteady rhythm, her breasts bouncing with every drop of her hips. Hermione threw her head back, her damp hair spilling down her shoulders as she braced her hands flat on my chest. Her nails scraped lightly over my skin while her hips began to rise and fall with more rhythm. Each time she dragged her pussy up my shaft, her walls clenched like they were reluctant to let me go, only to swallow me again when she dropped back down!
She was gasping, moaning, her mouth hanging open as her body bounced against mine. Every time she sank to the base, her ass cheeks slapped against my thighs with a wet smack. The sound of her pussy taking my cock, squelching and obscene, filled the room.
I looked down, my vision blurring from the intensity of it, and saw a thin trickle of red mixing with her slick. Her thighs gleamed with her juices, streaked with spots of blood from her first time. The sight sent a surge of primal pride straight through me.
My cock twitched hard inside her, and I growled, "Fuck, Hermione… you're so fucking sexy right now! You're mine!"
Her eyes fluttered open, glazed with lust, and she moaned at my words. "I am… I'm yours," she panted, her voice breaking into a whimper as her pussy squeezed tighter around me. "Oh shit, Harry, you feel so big inside me, I can't stop."
I slid my hands from her hips up to her waist, gripping her tight, guiding her movements as she bounced harder on my cock. Every thrust made her tits jiggle, her pink nipples taut and begging to be sucked. There would be plenty of time for that later though.
Hermione's pussy was already clinging to me like a velvet vice, her slick walls fluttering around my shaft with every motion of her hips. She was riding me beautifully, but I wanted more—needed more. My hands locked onto her waist, fingers digging into her soft flesh as I took control.
Each time she started to rise, I yanked her back down hard, impaling her completely on my cock. Her ass smacked against my thighs with sharp, wet slaps, and she screamed out as my cock punched deeper inside her, grinding against her cervix.
"Oh fuck, Harry!" she wailed, nails raking down my chest, leaving red lines across my skin. "You're… you're splitting me open—" Her voice broke into another scream as I pulled her down again, my balls slapping against her ass as I bottomed out. The sound of her cries mixed with the obscene squelch of her soaked pussy swallowing me.
I groaned, my breaths ragged, the heat building in my spine. Every time I dragged her down, I could feel her trembling around me, her cunt tightening like she was already on the edge. "That's it, baby," I growled through gritted teeth. "Scream for me. Let me feel you cum on my cock."
Her inner walls fluttered violently, gripping and releasing in rapid pulses. I could feel her clit grinding against my pelvis every time I slammed her down, the swollen nub catching perfectly, making her buck uncontrollably.
Her head rolled back, sweat dripping down her flushed neck and chest. Her tits bounced wildly with each thrust, her stiff nipples brushing against my skin. Her whole body was on fire, trembling with overstimulation, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
Her voice came out broken, gasping between shrieks: "Harry—fuck—I can't—OH FUCK—I'm gonna—"
I yanked her down harder, holding her there, grinding my cock deep into her quivering pussy. "Do it," I demanded, my voice rough with lust. "Cum all over my cock. Show me how much you love being fucked like this."
That was all it took.
Her body convulsed violently, her thighs locking tight around my hips as she screamed my name. Her pussy clamped down with desperate, pulsing spasms, milking me in rhythmic waves as her orgasm ripped through her. Hot gushes of slick poured out, coating my cock, running down my balls, soaking the sheets beneath us.
The sensation pushed me over the brink. My balls tightened, and a deep growl tore out of my chest as my own orgasm surged. "Fuck—Hermione!" I roared, slamming up into her as I erupted. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot deep inside her trembling pussy, filling her completely.
She gasped, her eyes rolling back as she felt me flood her. "Oh Moau, yes—fill me, Harry—fuck—I can feel it—" she moaned, her voice breaking into a sob of pleasure.
I kept yanking her down onto me through it, forcing her to take every pulse of my cock as I spilled into her. Cum leaked around my shaft, dripping down her thighs, but still I held her there, buried to the base, grinding against her cervix until my release finally slowed.
She collapsed forward, her tits pressing against my chest, her whole body trembling from the force of her orgasm. Her breath was hot and ragged against my neck as her pussy continued to twitch and spasm around me, milking out the last drops of cum.
I stroked her sweaty back slowly, my cock still buried deep inside her wet heat. My chest rose and fell in heavy gasps, my body still shuddering from the intensity.
"You were incredible," I murmured into her ear, kissing the side of her flushed face. "Watching you lose yourself on my cock… fuck, Hermione, that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen."
She giggled breathlessly, her lips brushing my jaw. "That was… more than I ever imagined," she whispered, her voice hoarse but blissful. She shifted her hips slightly, groaning at the feeling of my cock still stretching her. "You're still so hard inside me…"
My lips curled into a grin, my hands sliding down to grab her ass again. "That's because I'm not done with you yet."
Her eyes widened, her body shivering in anticipation as she whispered, "Then don't stop. Make me yours again."
I growled low in my throat, flipped her onto her back beneath me, and drove my cock into her soaked, quivering pussy once more.
(R-18 end)
…
I woke up with the warm weight of Hermione in my arms, her body tucked against me, her bare back soft under my hand. My fingers drifted lazily over her smooth skin, tracing the curve of her shoulder and down the line of her spine. A grin tugged at my lips before I even opened my eyes.
The room was quiet, only the sound of our breathing filling the air. For a moment, I just enjoyed it—her warmth, the faint scent of her hair, the way she fit perfectly against me.
She stirred slowly, her body shifting against mine as she blinked herself awake. When her eyes fluttered open, she looked up at me and gave a sweet, sleepy smile that made my chest ache.
"Good morning," I murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Good morning," she whispered back, her cheeks pink. She ducked her head, trying to burrow under the mess of tangled sheets.
I caught her gently, pulling the covers back before she could hide. "Hey," I said softly, tilting her chin so she met my eyes. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You're beautiful, Hermione."
Her blush deepened, but she didn't look away. The nerves in her eyes softened, replaced with a spark of joy. I held her gaze, heart pounding as the words rose up before I could stop them.
"I think… I love you," I admitted.
Her lips parted, and for a second I thought she might cry. Instead, her smile broke wider, brighter than I'd ever seen. "I… I love you too," she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. Then her expression shifted, a little pout crossing her face. "Otherwise I wouldn't have given you my virginity."
That hit me harder than anything else had. I leaned in and kissed her, slow and lingering, pouring everything I felt into that moment. When we pulled apart, I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"There's something I want to talk about," I said quietly.
She tilted her head, curious. "What is it?"
"I haven't been thinking much about it yet," I admitted, "because I'm still so new to being a devil. But… I do have my Evil Pieces. And I already know I want you around me forever."
Her eyes widened, and then her face lit up like sunrise. "Harry," she breathed, pressing closer to me. "I've actually been waiting for you to ask me. I was hoping… I'd get to be part of your peerage."
A laugh slipped from me, half relief, half joy. "You've really been waiting on me to figure it out, huh?"
"Of course," she teased, poking my chest with one finger. "I'd be your best bishop ever."
"You don't want to be my Queen?"
Hermione's eyes softened, and she cuddled closer against me, resting her head on my chest. "Oh, Harry… that's so flattering, that you'd even think of me for something so important!" She sighed, her voice warm. "But no. I don't think I'd make a very good Queen."
I frowned slightly, running my hand through her hair. "Why not?"
She tilted her head up to look at me, her brown eyes thoughtful. "Queens aren't just magically powerful. They're supposed to be strong physical fighters too, and they need to have this… commanding presence. A real leader's aura." She paused, nibbling on her bottom lip. "That's not me."
I studied her face, the honesty there. She wasn't being self-deprecating, she was being realistic. And I respected her all the more for it.
"You sell yourself short," I said, brushing my thumb along her cheekbone. "But I get it. You've always been more comfortable guiding people with your mind, not barking orders."
She smiled at that. "Exactly. And that's why I'd be the perfect bishop. I can support you, and give everything I have without needing to be at the front."
I kissed her forehead, pride swelling in my chest. "Then my best bishop you'll be!"
Her grin widened, and she hugged me tightly, her body pressing against mine. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," she whispered into my skin.
…After Hermione drifted back to sleep in my bed to get a bit more rest before classes, I slipped out from under the covers, still feeling the warmth of her body clinging to me. My muscles ached pleasantly, the kind of soreness that came from a long night of passion.
I couldn't help but grin as I thought about it.
I padded into the shower where Lyra and Lyna were already waiting. Of course they were.
My two maids never wasted an opportunity to hover around me, and this morning was no different. The moment the warm spray hit my skin, they were on me. Hands gliding over my chest, scrubbing me down with exaggerated care.
Except it wasn't just scrubbing.
Their fingers wandered more than necessary, trailing down my stomach, lingering on my thighs, brushing far too close to my cock. Lyra pressed her chest against my back as she worked a sponge over my shoulders. Lyna knelt low, humming softly as she ran her hands up my calves, deliberately slow.
They were jealous. I could see it in their eyes, feel it in their touch.
"So," Lyra murmured against my ear, her lips grazing my wet skin. "Was she good?"
"Yeah," Lyna chimed in, her eyes sharp and curious as she looked up at me. "Tell us everything, Master. Every little detail."
I laughed, though it came out strained with how close their hands kept wandering. "You two don't give a guy a break, do you?"
They pouted in unison, though the playful sparkle in their eyes betrayed them. "Not when you're holding out on us," Lyra teased, her hand sliding down my stomach until I caught her wrist.
I pulled her hand away gently, shaking my head. "Another time," I said firmly, though my grin probably ruined the effect. "I've got class today."
Their matching groans of disappointment followed me even as they finished scrubbing me down, muttering about how unfair it was. By the time I stepped out and dried off, I was refreshed but still carrying the heat of their jealousy.
Unfortunately, as much as I might have wanted to let them keep pushing, today wasn't going to be a free day like yesterday. Yesterday had seen classes canceled, but today… no such luck.
I dressed and made my way down to the common room.
The fire was lit, casting a warm glow over the couches where Fred, George, and Ginny sat huddled together. They looked worse for wear—slumped shoulders, pale faces, eyes that were wide and unfocused.
"Hey, guys," I greeted, stepping closer. "How's your brother?"
Before either twin could answer, Ginny jumped up and ran straight into my chest. She wrapped her arms tight around me, burying her face against me. I froze for a moment, startled, before wrapping one arm around her trembling shoulders.
"We've been horrible siblings…" she whispered, her voice shaky. "I can't believe I hexed him. I can't believe I threatened my own brother when he was under the Imperius Curse this whole time. I'm so dumb!" Her words came out broken, choked with guilt.
George and Fred stood up behind her, both looking grim. "We're so fucking dumb," George muttered, shaking his head.
"Yeah," Fred added, his jaw tight. "We thought he was just… Ron. Annoying, lazy, stupid Ron. But…"
I guided Ginny toward the couch, easing her down while she still clung to me. Confusion pulled at my chest, and I sat with her, waiting for the twins to explain.
Fred rubbed a hand over his face before finally speaking. "Dumbledore told us last night. Ron's been the victim of mind magic for years. Not just once, not just recently—years. The brother we thought we knew… he wasn't real. He was nothing more than a puppet."
They told me everything he and Pomprey—our school nurse who I hadn't met yet—told them about their brother's condition. It was not good. No wonder the dude came off as such a basket case.
His brain was damn near magically fried.
Ginny sniffled against me, her shoulders shaking as she tried to compose herself. I squeezed her a little tighter, rubbing slow circles on her back.
"It has to be someone in this common room, right?" I asked, looking up at the twins. "How else could they keep applying the magic even at Hogwarts?"
Both Fred and George froze, staring at me with wide eyes. The realization dawned on their faces like. "Bloody hell," George whispered.
Fred's hands clenched into fists. "Those… those fuckers. Whoever they are…" His voice trembled with fury. "They've been sitting right here with us this whole time!"
George's expression twisted with rage. "I want to march up to Ron's dorm right now and start interrogating every one of his roommates!"
Fred nodded, his fists shaking. "I'll go with you. We'll drag the truth out of them!"
I reached out and grabbed both their wrists before they could storm off. "No," I said firmly. "That's exactly what we shouldn't do."
They whipped their heads toward me, confusion and anger battling on their faces.
"Think about it," I continued, keeping my voice low. "If you go up there and start demanding answers, what happens? We tip them off. They panic. They run. Or worse, they cover their tracks and hide even deeper. We can't risk that."
Fred scowled, his nostrils flaring. "So what? We just sit here and do nothing while whoever's been controlling our brother laughs at us?"
"No," I said, meeting both their gazes. "We don't do nothing. You guys are my friends…" I trialed off as Ginny wiped her tears and pouted at me. "And—more—" I added and she smiled with a small blush. "I can ask my family to help with this. Hell, Lyra and Lyna spend a lot of time in the common rooms, I can ask them to investigate secretly. They are very reliable."
Fred, even with everything going on, still found room to be a smartass. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing on me as though he'd just noticed something amusing. "You're not just saying that because you were obviously up all night shagging them, are you?" he teased, his voice cracking into a grin.
George's eyes flicked up and down. "Indeed. We can see the love marks peeking out over your collar," he added with a sly grin.
My hand shot to my neck on instinct.
Damn it—sure enough, my fingertips brushed over the faint sting of a mark. Bloody hell, Lyra and Lyna had been a little too enthusiastic when I'd let them "wash" me down this morning, and apparently, the evidence had lingered.
Ginny grumbled, her voice low but clear enough that we all heard the sharp edge in it. "Of course." She folded her arms tight across her chest, glaring at the fire instead of me.
Jealousy was practically radiating off her.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to rise to the bait. "First of all," I muttered, "I wasn't even with them last night." The words slipped out before I realized I was digging my own grave. My mouth worked faster than my brain, and the truth tumbled out anyway, "I was with Hermione..."
Fred and George's heads snapped toward me so fast I thought they'd get whiplash. Matching smirks curled onto their faces, twin sharks circling the same bit of blood in the water. Ginny, on the other hand, went stiff as a board, her cheeks flushing a dangerous shade of red.
"You were… with Hermione?" George drawled, his tone both incredulous and amused.
Fred shook his head, though the grin didn't leave his face. "Didn't think the bookish girl had it in her," he said, a chuckle escaping him. "Good for her!"
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. "Yes. With Hermione. She's my girlfriend, in case you somehow missed that detail. And before you two start making jokes—"
But it was too late. Fred leaned forward, eyebrows raised, his grin wicked. "No jokes here, mate. Just a bit surprised. Always thought Hermione was more the type to marry a library than—" He gestured vaguely at me, his smirk widening. "—jump into your bed."
George nodded at me. "You've really brought that girl out of her shell this year. She always had trouble fitting in Gryffindor but this year has been obviously different."
"Was she any good? I promise I will be better!" Ginny finally declared right to me.
Fred facepalmed. "Dammit Ginny!"
George made a gagging noise. "Don't blurt that out while we're right next to you…"
"Alright, enough," I cut in, though my ears burned at her bold declaration right there. "I don't owe you the details of my private time with Hermione…"
"Ok—Ok… You've been a good friend so far, Harry," George said, his tone more serious now.
Fred nodded in agreement. "Yeah. So, we'll trust you on this one. We'll let your… supermaids,"—he smirked a little at the word—"poke around first. But if they can't find anything in the next couple days, then we're going to do things our way!"
His words hung heavy in the air.
I leaned back on the couch, Ginny still curled against me, her arms stubbornly wrapped around my waist. My eyes flicked between the twins, taking in their mirrored scowls and the tension simmering beneath their calm. They were angry. Righteously angry.
I didn't blame them.
"Alright," I said finally, nodding. "That's fair. Give Lyra and Lyna a couple days. They're subtle. They'll spot things you two wouldn't. If they come up empty…" I let the words trail off, meeting Fred's gaze, then George's. "Then we'll do it your way."
George and Fred headed to breakfast, I told them we'd join them as soon as Hermione was ready. Maybe in 20 minutes or so. Other students were starting to wake up and flow into and out of the common room as they came and went. Ginny was still cuddled up next to me. I asked her if they found out who poisoned Ron at least. Was it the same people mind controlling him? That wouldn't really make sense though would it? If they wanted to kill him, they would have done it secretly to not expose themselves.
Ginny shook her head. "We have no idea, but no one has asked the elves yet. Someone must have snuck into the kitchens and slipped it into his goblet."
Huh, I guess that made sense. "You know, Lyra and Lyna were in the kitchens yesterday for a couple hours. That's why the food was so good last night!" I could still remember it.
"Damn, I didn't get to eat any of the food, since I was in the infirmary with my brothers," she grumbled in disappointment and then paused. "Wait—you're slutty twin maids are crazy buggering loyal to you, aren't they? Did THEY poison Ron?" she asked me. A bit joking but also a bit serious. Her eyes locked onto mine. "They did look like they wanted to kill him after he insulted your mother," she pointed out.
That was… A good question? I think…?
I shook my head though. "They wouldn't do that. They would have punished him more openly, more publicly," I explained to Ginny. Devils kind of looked down on poison, and there's no way Lyra or Lyna would have gone out of their way to buy some.
And it's not like it just fell into their laps or something…
…About fifteen minutes later, Hermione finally came down the stairs that led to my private room. The moment she stepped into view, I could tell she was moving carefully, like every step took more effort than she wanted to admit. Her legs wobbled faintly, and she clutched the banister just a little too tightly for balance.
Her cheeks were already red, but when her eyes flicked up and met mine, her whole face turned crimson. She quickly looked away, brushing at her messy hair as if that would distract from how obvious it was that she was walking on shaky legs.
Ginny noticed immediately. "Well, well," Ginny said, smirking as she leaned back against the couch. "Looks like someone had a busy night. Could barely drag yourself out of bed, huh?"
Hermione stiffened, pretending she hadn't heard. She adjusted her robes, straightened her shoulders, and marched the rest of the way down, though her blush betrayed her.
"Don't tease her," I said, shooting Ginny a look. I reached out and touched Hermione's arm gently, helping her keep her balance. "Come on. We should get going or we'll miss breakfast."
Hermione nodded quickly. I led both girls toward the door of the common room. Ginny followed along, still smirking, though she at least kept her comments to herself after that. Hermione stayed close by my side, brushing against me every so often.
As we stepped into the corridor, my thoughts drifted back to last night's feast. Most of all, the way Dumbledore had ended the night with a dramatic flourish.
The Triwizard Cup.
It had been unveiled in front of the entire hall, glowing faintly on its pedestal.The room had gone quiet as soon as the goblet appeared. Everyone knew what it meant. That cup would decide the champions for the tournament. Not the professors—just that ancient artifact, magic older than any of us.
Dumbledore had explained it wouldn't be active until the following morning, after he had time to make some adjustments to it. That time was now. It should be ready to go in the middle of the Great Hall.
A grin tugged at my lips. I was more excited than I'd expected to be.
– Pettigrew –
Peter Pettigrew was pissed off—thoroughly, completely pissed off! His tiny paws were throbbing, and his lungs felt raw from scurrying all the way across Hogwarts. Every corridor felt ten times longer when you're a rat. Hours wasted, just scampering about just to get back up here! It was so much harder than being carried.
Finally back in Ron's dormitory, Peter leapt onto the bed, curling into a tight ball. His whiskers twitched irritably as he lay panting on Ron's messy blankets.
Stupid, worthless Ronald Weasley!
The boy had managed to poison himself. Peter still couldn't wrap his tiny rat brain around that one. He'd carefully procured lethal poison, something that was supposed to kill that bastard Harry Sitri once and for all.
Instead, Ron drank it himself.
How in the world does someone poison themselves? Peter thought bitterly. The goblets were labeled by the house elves! It was supposed to be a simple assasination!
Peter bristled, his fur standing on end. His beady black eyes glowed with anger as he thought about the botched plan. He'd been careful. He'd given Ron crystal-clear instructions. They'd even managed to steal Jasmine McKinnon's invisibility cloak.
A perfect tool. Peter knew exactly how effective it was. He'd spent years sneaking through Hogwarts under James' cloak, after all.
But Ron had still managed to ruin everything.
Peter dug his tiny claws into the blanket, tearing at the fabric in frustration. Ron was now out of the school—maybe at St. Mungo's, maybe dead. He didn't really care what happened to that idiot. Ron was just a puppet, and puppets could always be replaced.
He knew why all this was happening!
Harry Sitri. And Sirius Black. The rumors whispered through Hogwarts confirmed what Peter had suspected from the start. Harry Sitri was clearly Sirius Black's son. Peter knew those two were working together, hunting him. Sirius wouldn't escape Azkaban after all these years without a reason, and Peter knew the reason was revenge.
Peter squeaked in bitter frustration, huddling lower into the blanket.
Well, he wouldn't be hunted down like an animal! Not by those two arrogant bastards. He'd get to them first. He had to find another puppet—another foolish student he could twist around his tiny paw and manipulate to do his bidding!
Just then, the dormitory door swung open. Peter's heart leapt in panic, but he held still, his beady eyes darting quickly toward the noise.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan stepped into the room, they were Ron's roommates after all.
"Hey, isn't that Ron's rat?" Dean asked, approaching the bed and peering down at Peter.
"Yeah, it is," Seamus agreed, wrinkling his nose slightly. "Poor ugly bugger. With Ron at St. Mungo's, who's gonna look after it?"
Dean sighed, reaching down gently to scratch Peter's head. "I guess I can. Seems like the right thing to do, even if Ron was a total prick lately. Almost made us hate Harry Sitri for nothing."
Peter relaxed under Dean's touch, giving a pathetic little squeak of gratitude. Internally, his thoughts churned faster. Yes. Perfect. A new puppet. Peter let out a small squeak, cuddling closer against Dean's robes. If he could smile as a rat, he'd have done it right then. Dean Thomas seemed just naive enough to become his new pawn.
The boys turned, carrying him out of the dormitory. Peter closed his tiny eyes contentedly. Yes, Ron had failed. But Peter would try again, and again, until he saw Sirius Black and Harry Sitri suffer!
– Nameless –
Nameless drifted in the dark, his tattered cloak dragging across the jagged stones of Azkaban. His body was not truly a body, but a husk of shadows stretched thin and cold. Still, he felt. He felt rage, hunger, and insult.
Foolish human mages.
They had forced him and his brethren back to this prison. Shackled them like chained beasts, as though they were servants instead of demonic predators. As though the proud kind that had once stalked the Underworld itself could ever be contained by mere wards and stone.
It burned within Nameless like a poison.
Only days ago, he had tasted freedom. The Ministry had opened the gates, bidding the Dementors to sweep across the countryside, "searching" for the escaped convict, Sirius Black.
The humans thought themselves clever, turning predators into hounds. But Nameless and his kin had known—Sirius Black's escape was no accident. They let him go.
The man was a shapeshifter. He could become a beast, hiding his true soul behind fur and bone. They had seen him transform in Azkaban's shadows and had said nothing. They had let him slip away.
Why? Because the longer Sirius Black ran free, the longer they could roam outside of Azkaban as well...
And while they roamed, they fed.
Souls. Sweet, tender, terrified human souls.
The magicals never noticed when a few muggles dropped dead spontaneously. Why would they? Muggles could not even see a Dementor. A scream, a collapse, and then silence — only a drained husk left behind, eyes glassy and lifeless. Nameless had taken three souls himself in that first week, and each soul had been glorious.
His brethren had feasted as well, spreading across the countryside like a plague of shadows. Hundreds of muggle souls had been devoured in the "search" for Sirius Black. It should have been thousands. It could have lasted longer. It should have lasted longer.
But then one of his brothers grew arrogant. The fool boarded the Hogwarts Express, stuffed with young mages — teenagers fat with innocence and magic. He thought he could gorge himself, he thought wrong.
That fool had been thoroughly punished by the rest of them. Chained below in the depths of Azkaban, it would not be escaping for the next 1000 years for ruining all of their spoils!
But at least the fool discovered one thing. Among those young mages had been something they all loathed. A devil!
The enemy of their kind since the dawn of their exile. It had been devils who had driven the Dementors out of the Underworld!
The Ministry, of course, had not understood. They saw only a Dementor attacking a train full of their own kind. They had recalled all of them to Azkaban. Now they were caged again. Hungry. Furious. Nameless drifted through the prison corridors, his brethren stirring restlessly in the shadows. Their whispers clawed at the air, each rasping breath thick with resentment.
"We should never have returned. The devil was so close!"
"We should have struck at him then. Together we would have overwhelmed him!"
"The devil soul must be devoured! Vengeance will be ours!"
Nameless agreed with them all. The hunger gnawed at him like knives. His kind were always hungry.
And yet, they were forbidden to leave again, even if they promised to only search for Black. The mages had their little school tournament, and they would not allow Dementors near it. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had demanded it. No Dementors anywhere near their precious students. Especially not after the train incident.
The Ministry had bowed like dogs, chaining Nameless and his brethren back to Azkaban once more. But the hunger did not fade. Already, some of his brothers whispered of leaving. Of abandoning Azkaban, drifting unseen across the night sky until they reached Hogwarts again.
The wards of the school were strong, but hunger was stronger.
Nameless knew they would go. And he would follow.
Because this was not over. The hatred between devils and demons was eternal.
– Harry –
I leaned back in my seat, still riding the high from earlier. Putting my name into the Goblet of Fire felt amazing. The challenging, playful stare my gorgeous Aunt Sona had given me afterwards only made things better.
I could already picture the excitement that would come with being chosen as champion.
Professor Lockhart's class dragged me from my daydreams. He clapped loudly to get our attention. "Alright everyone! Now, I understand the events last night at the feast were terrifying," Lockhart announced, sounding far too cheerful. "Ron Weasley's sudden poisoning scared even me. But never fear! I happen to have the perfect spell for just such an emergency!"
Beside me, Hermione instantly frowned. She leaned slightly closer, whispering, "Is he serious? There's no general-purpose poison cure spell! I've never heard of that!"
Jasmine McKinnon, sitting on my other side, snorted quietly in disbelief. "Does a spell like that even exist?" she muttered skeptically.
I shrugged slightly at both girls. Honestly, I wasn't sure. But even as a devil and getting taught for weeks by Sona, I'd never heard of such a convenient magic.
If devils didn't have their own version, odds were it didn't exist.
Lockhart continued confidently, holding up a small flask filled with a dubious-looking potion. "Now, who's brave enough to be my volunteer? Don't worry! This potion is nothing serious. Just a minor laxative—barely even poisonous!"
The classroom was immediately dead silent. No hands went up, of course. Lockhart looked momentarily annoyed but quickly masked it with another blinding smile.
"No one feeling brave? Tut-tut! Very well then, I'll just have to pick someone randomly." He grabbed a ridiculous-looking hat off his desk, theatrically reaching in to draw a name. Did he just have everyone's names in a hat ready to go?
I leaned towards Hermione and Jasmine, lowering my voice. "If he picks my name, I'm leaving."
"Same here," Jasmine whispered.
"Absolutely," Hermione agreed firmly.
I held my breath slightly as Lockhart finally pulled out a slip of parchment. He unfolded it slowly, savoring the drama before announcing loudly, "Draco Malfoy!"
Thank fuck!
Across the classroom, Draco slammed his fist onto his desk. "Fuck!" he hissed angrily, his cheeks flushing bright red. Next to him, Daphne and Tracy immediately started snickering. They clearly weren't sympathetic to Draco's plight.
Lockhart beckoned Draco forward with a reassuring smile. "Come now, Mr. Malfoy. No need for dramatics! You'll be perfectly fine, I promise you!"
With a resigned scowl, Draco shuffled to the front of the class. Lockhart thrust the flask toward him with a flourish. "Drink up, Draco! Remember—my spell will cure you immediately."
Hermione groaned quietly, shaking her head. "There is no way this ends well," she muttered.
"Draco is really stupid, and I am so fucking here for it!" Jasmine whispered with a smirk.
"Me too!" I added with my own grin. This couldn't be happening to a nicer asshole!
Draco stared into the flask uncertainly but then—unbelievably—he gulped down the entire contents in one go.
All right then, he really went for it...
At first, Draco stood perfectly still, looking relieved that nothing seemed wrong. But within seconds, his expression shifted dramatically. His eyes widened, and he clutched his stomach with both hands, letting out a strained groan. "Oh Merlin! It hurts!" Draco gasped desperately.
Lockhart immediately waved his wand, proudly reciting some nonsense words that definitely weren't a real spell. "Bowl-be-gone Maxima!" The only real Latin word he even said there was Maxima. How in the fuck was Lockhart in Ravenclaw when he was a student here?
…For a moment, nothing happened.
Lockhart smiled brightly anyway, clapping his hands. "And there you have it! You're cured, Draco!" he declared triumphantly.
A few students gave hesitant, awkward claps. But the applause quickly died as Draco doubled over, moaning loudly!
"You—you bloody fraud!" Draco gasped. He staggered slightly, turning alarmingly pale. "Your stupid spell didn't do anything!"
Lockhart chuckled nervously, patting Draco on the shoulder. "Come now, it just needs a moment—"
"No—it—doesn't!" Draco interrupted, clutching his stomach tighter. "I need the bloody bathroom—NOW!" And then his stomach gurgled loudly, followed by some very unsavory noises escaping from behind him!
He sprinted out the classroom door like his ass was on fire—which it might have been? Whatever was in that potion was not a minor laxative.
And of course everyone in the classroom collectively lost their fucking minds and started giggling, except for a handful of Draco sycophant slytherins. Nobody cared about them though as they all ran after him.
Lockhart stood frozen at the front, his forced smile looking slightly panicked now. He cleared his throat loudly. "Ah—well, class, that—that didn't quite go according to plan," he stammered awkwardly, adjusting his robes. "But let's just move on. I'm sure he'll be fine."
XXX