The practical segment of the N.E.W.T. exams was naturally suspended after Jerry escaped from the world of the False Olympic Pantheon.
The reasons required no explanation; the ripples across the world barriers and the Goddess of Harvest's furious counterattack were enough for the Wizarding Council to re-evaluate the current situation and scramble to prepare for a potential new round of conflict.
For the seventh-year apprentices who were originally meant to take the exam, this was both a blessing and a curse.
Fortunately, they temporarily avoided the dangers of live combat.
Unfortunately, the chaotic situation left them in limbo, unsure when they would complete their studies and step into their true careers as wizards.
At the very least, a retake wouldn't be scheduled for another month or two.
However, for Jerry, the center of the storm that triggered all of this, things didn't immediately improve.
Although he had relied on his magical jewelry and the Crystal Puppets to successfully complete this massive display of power—even forcing back the Goddess of Harvest—the price paid afterward caused him quite a bit of suffering.
Forcibly driving the puppets to release such a staggering number of Forbidden Curses and utilizing so many ancient artifacts had placed an immense burden on both his body and spirit, resulting in significant magical backlash.
Inside the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the air was currently filled with the morning aroma of toasted bread and frying eggs.
Sunlight filtered through the massive windows, spilling across the long dining tables and illuminating the glittering silverware.
At the Slytherin table, students huddled in small groups, whispering about the latest rumors—specifically the indefinite suspension of the practical exams and the supernatural events caused by the severe spatial fluctuations outside the school.
Jerry sat in a corner of the Slytherin table, looking utterly drained.
His hair was somewhat messy, faint dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his complexion was several shades paler than usual.
Before him sat a plate piled high with food—a large fried egg, several slices of bacon, and a cup of pumpkin juice.
However, Jerry's movements were agonizingly slow, mechanically poking at the egg with his fork, unable to bring it to his mouth for the longest time.
It seemed that even a simple task like eating required a gargantuan effort.
Physical exhaustion crashed over him like a tide, and his spirit was in a state of emptiness after being extremely overdrawn.
The backlash from the Forbidden Curses and the artifacts had sent his mana core into chaos; though he had recovered somewhat after a brief treatment by Professor McGonagall, that hollowed-out feeling deep in his bones refused to dissipate.
Jerry managed to swallow a small bite of egg, feeling his throat go dry.
"Hey, Jerry! Where were you yesterday? I looked for you for ages!"
A voice full of vitality suddenly rang in his ear.
Jerry looked up to see Draco Malfoy sitting down across from him, tray in hand.
The blonde boy wore a brilliant smile, looking exceptionally energetic; it seemed the Malfoy family's secret potions were indeed effective.
His fair skin glowed with a healthy flush, and his green eyes sparkled with the light of youth, forming a sharp contrast with Jerry's lethargy.
"What's wrong, my Lord Jerry? You look like you've been kissed by a Dementor."
Draco took a bite of a croissant, chewing with gusto, completely oblivious to the exhaustion in Jerry's eyes.
"Tsk, tsk."
Jerry's voice was hoarse, even squeezing out those two sounds felt tiring.
His throat felt like it was clogged with paste, or as if it had been scoured by sand—dry and burning.
Contained within that brief sigh was the lingering pain of a body drained dry, the fatigue of an overextended spirit, and a bit of envy mixed with impatience toward Draco's carefree vitality.
Jerry merely strained to lift his eyelids, scanning the energetic face before him with a nearly focusless gaze before letting them drop again, like a puppet whose battery was about to die, unwilling to waste a single spark of energy.
Draco continued to gnaw on his croissant, waving his free hand dismissively, signaling that Jerry's state was a non-issue in his eyes.
Just as he was about to launch into a long-winded story about the latest Quidditch flight techniques he'd learned and the strange magical items his father had sent him, a pair of pale, slender hands—trembling visibly—emerged with difficulty from beneath the table, palms up, facing him.
Draco's chewing paused, a flash of confusion crossing his green eyes.
He looked puzzled at the weakly extended hand, the fingertips slightly curled as if even fully opening the palm was a struggle.
After a brief moment of daze, his clever mind began to spin rapidly. He recalled a few days ago when he had tried to pitch his family's secret medicinal pills to Jerry, who had only given a perfunctory response.
Draco's heart stirred, and a look of knowing slyness appeared on his face.
Draco quickly reined in his exaggerated smile, looked around to ensure no one was watching, and sneakily pulled a small, exquisite silver pillbox from his robes.
The pillbox was ancient in design, carved with the Malfoy family's serpent crest—clearly not a common item.
He took out two thumb-sized, dark red pills and surreptitiously pressed them into Jerry's open palm.
"Here, I told you this stuff works."
Draco lowered his voice, his tone full of pride and mystery. "It promotes blood circulation, removes stasis, and boosts your vital essence. When I came back last time..."
He cut himself off mid-sentence, realizing the setting wasn't right, and shut his mouth quickly, but his hesitant look gave Jerry a vague understanding of the medicine's true purpose.
Jerry looked at the two pills in his hand; the color was deep, the surface shimmering with a slight luster, and a sharp, somewhat earthy herbal scent wafted from them.
Jerry's gaze lingered on the pills for a moment before he wordlessly gripped them in his fist. Without much hesitation, he popped them directly into his mouth.
A pungent yet sweet medicinal power instantly exploded on his tongue, sliding down his throat to his stomach, and then dispersing to his limbs and bones at an even faster speed.
Visibly, Jerry's pale complexion began to flush with red, the dark circles under his eyes faded slightly, and his lethargic aura retreated rapidly, replaced by a clarity that, while still tired, possessed a newfound spirit.
The secret medicine was indeed miraculous; while it could do nothing for the overdraft of his mana core—which required longer-term recuperation—it at least replenished the vital blood and essence he'd just lost, preventing him from looking like a Dementor's victim.
Draco's eyes went wide as he watched Jerry's complexion change as if by magic.
His mouth hung open for a long time before closing. While speaking excitedly, he muttered in his head: Wow, Jerry, you look like you've taken Felix Felicis! Seems like the old man really has some good stuff in that weird collection of his! But why didn't it have such a huge effect when I took it? Do I need to take two at once?
Jerry ignored his muttering and wandering thoughts, merely letting out a long yawn while stretching out in a broad sprawl.
His bones let out series of crisp pops, and every cell seemed to be injected with life once more.
Jerry felt the power gradually filling his body again.
Though it was only a surface-level replenishment of essence, it at least made him look normal to outsiders.
Then, as if performing a magic trick, Jerry unhurriedly pulled out one bottle after another from the expansion pocket at his side—a total of more than ten potions of various colors.
There were deep green activation potions bubbling with fine froth, bright purple concentration serums smelling of flowers, and several unidentified brews.
Jerry downed them one after another like he was drinking water. His bold consumption made the little wizards glancing over occasionally wear expressions of shock.
He even used his breakfast—a half-cold fried egg and a few pieces of crispy bacon—to mask the exceptionally bitter taste of some of the potions, gulping the liquids while chewing his food, his movements fluid and carrying a unique, uninhibited style.
"About what we discussed before... I truly didn't intend to get involved with the Quidditch World Cup originally."
Jerry finally finished his last bite of bacon and spoke to Draco, his voice finally regaining its usual clarity, no longer hoarse.
"At most, I was going to rent some advertising space for the Crystal Puppet Workshop."
Draco leaned in, listening curiously.
"But times have changed." Jerry's eyes deepened, flashing with a shrewd calculation.
"I currently have a bidding slot for a Quidditch tournament supplier in my hand. Although the bid hasn't been finalized yet, all that's missing is a portion of the funding. Are you interested?"
Draco's eyes lit up instantly. Without a second of hesitation, like a fox that had discovered treasure, he leaned his head in until he almost touched Jerry's shoulder, whispering and muttering excitedly.
Quidditch!
Tournament supplier!
This was the Malfoy family's favorite field to infiltrate; it offered not only massive profits but also a huge boost to the family's prestige and influence in the wizarding world.
The Malfoy family had always wanted to plant their people inside but lacked the proper channel. He hadn't expected Jerry to be able to secure such a thing.
Just as the two were whispering together, plotting how to get their hands on the massive cake that was the Quidditch tournament, the doors to the Great Hall were pushed open again.
Hermione Granger and Hannah Abbott walked in.
Both had a trace of weariness on their faces, clearly having just come from a high-intensity practical Charms class.
Hermione's hair was a bit disheveled, but her gaze remained sharp.
Hannah, on the other hand, appeared somewhat anxious.
They immediately spotted Jerry sitting at the Slytherin table. Though he looked more spirited, his pale face and the lingering fatigue in his eyes still gave away his strange whereabouts from the day before.
Hermione knit her brows, clearly wanting to go up and ask Jerry where he had been, but reason eventually suppressed her impulse.
After all, because of the events of the past few days, the boundary between Slytherin and Gryffindor in the Great Hall was currently drawn in sharp, distinct lines.
They could only look at each other with worry and confusion before heading straight to their respective house tables to sit silently and enjoy their breakfast.
Just as the Great Hall was filled with the humming of student conversations, the clinking of silverware, and the occasional burst of laughter—a bustling and vivid morning scene—the atmosphere suddenly froze.
Everyone's gaze was drawn simultaneously to the changes happening above the Hall.
Beneath the high vaulted ceiling, in the space that had been empty as a deep starry sky, four massive cups glowing with soft light materialized out of thin air.
They were not physical vessels but were condensed from magical energy, hanging high in the air with invisible majesty.
Each cup shimmered, the edges glowing with the color of their respective house gemstones—the fiery red of Gryffindor, the emerald green of Slytherin, the deep blue of Ravenclaw, and the golden yellow of Hufflepuff.
These four cups were the ultimate symbols of Hogwarts House honor—the House Cup point containers.
Although Christmas had long passed and the term had entered its final half, the House Cup scores had been delayed due to the sudden accidents at the end of last year and the complexity of school affairs.
In an instant, the entire Hall reached a boiling point.
The young wizards put down their utensils, stood up, and pointed at the massive cups in the sky, whispering excitedly.
They all knew that the appearance of this phenomenon meant the moment to announce the house totals for this year—or rather, the previous academic year—was not far off.
Every face was written with anticipation and tension, guessing which house would ultimately lift the House Cup, the symbol of highest honor.
Excited cheers and confident discussions came from the Gryffindor table; Ravenclaw students analyzed the possibilities calmly; Hufflepuff students focused more on sharing guesses and encouragement.
At the Slytherin table, however, the atmosphere was composed and brimming with confidence.
Jerry and Draco locked eyes.
A look of contempt flashed in Draco's eyes—it was the undisguised disdain for other houses, especially Gryffindor, that was etched into his bones.
He leaned in slightly, close to Jerry's ear, lowering his voice with a tone of smugness and the excitement of someone reporting an achievement, as if sharing a secret known only to the two of them.
"You missed a great show yesterday while you were away."
Draco's voice carried a snicker, his long fingers drumming on the table with arrogance. "While those stupid Gryffindor lions were unsupervised, I had Crabbe and Goyle—those two big idiots—go specifically to find trouble for the Gryffindor brats. They're quite talented; just relying on their size to intimidate people was enough to make the Gryffindor first-years cry. Then, I incited some students from other houses to join in the jeering and create a bit of a mess..."
He paused, his lips curling into a smug smirk, and added: "Guess what? Gryffindor was docked a full thirty points yesterday—a whole thirty points!"
He emphasized the number "thirty" as if it weren't just points, but a tangible honor he had personally stripped from Gryffindor.
"Now, there's no way their score can catch up. The House Cup is destined to be in Slytherin's pocket!"
Draco finished speaking and leaned back, giving Jerry a satisfied glance, expecting to see the same approval and schadenfreude in his friend's eyes.
Jerry merely listened with a neutral expression, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible arc.
He knew Draco was reporting his accomplishments, telling Jerry that he hadn't wasted those funds for nothing.
Jerry naturally understood the significance of those thirty points.
Logically speaking, there was indeed no way Gryffindor could catch up to Slytherin now.
But in reality, that wasn't the case.
Others might not know, but Jerry understood that Dumbledore intended to use the propaganda and momentum surrounding Harry Potter, the son of heroes, to win over the fence-sitters in the Ministry of Magic.
Tsk, this meant that the act of arbitrarily granting points was a high-probability event.
"Let's go, time for class!" Malfoy called out as he stood up.
"What class is it today again?"
"Runes. Aren't the Runes exams coming up?"
Malfoy let out another yawn; Ancient Runes was his biggest headache, like attending a class taught by a devil.
Jerry rolled his eyes. Malfoy was capable of diving headfirst into the complex manufacturing of Crystal Puppets.
Mind you, that was a cutting-edge field that only high-level Alchemists dared to touch.
Yet Malfoy was already daring enough to run wild in that domain.
He even had the wild idea of placing the control core outside the Crystal Puppet's body.
If any master of Crystal Puppets knew of such a move, they would likely be so enraged they'd kill him with the most vicious curses.
Furthermore, Malfoy learned the complex study of Inhibitions very quickly.
In just a few short months, he could already draw complete neural link runes on his own.
Yet Malfoy was completely baffled by the seemingly simpler Ancient Runes, as if his cerebellum hadn't developed for it at all, like his brain was incomplete in that area.
Walking into the classroom with Malfoy, Jerry sat alone in the back row. Forget first-year Runes; he had self-studied the seventh-year curriculum years ago.
So, he needed to use this time to calculate the materials needed to manufacture so many Crystal Puppets.
"Jerry!"
Hermione!
Holding her notebook, she sat down beside Jerry as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She claimed this was yesterday's class notes for him to look at, but her palm had already reached down beneath the desk uncontrollably.
"Stop it, class is starting!"
"Then I'll be gentle!"
Just as Jerry's body began to relax under Hermione's touch, the busy hand suddenly transitioned from simple stroking to more purposeful action.
Hermione's fingers gently pried open the half of Jerry's scrotum that was being constricted by his trousers, her fingertips feeling the two testicles that were still somewhat swollen from being stepped on by Aurora.
That numbing sensation mixed with a hint of dull pain made Jerry's head buzz, and all his fatigue seemed to be washed away by the stimulation.
"Jerry, are you alright?"
Hermione's voice rang softly in his ear, carrying just the right amount of concern.
However, her movements under the desk didn't pause for a second.
Her fingertips had now completely covered Jerry's scrotum, beginning to knead them with an extremely slow and meticulous technique.
"I... I'm fine..."
Jerry grit his teeth, trying to appear composed, but the trembling of his body betrayed him.
In his current state, bolstered by all those various healing potions he'd just downed, his body was incredibly sensitive.
Hermione seemed amused by his obvious attempt at a cover-up, her lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.
Her palm soon left his scrotum, moving instead to grip the long spear that was gradually hardening from the stimulation.
That thick, burning desire felt exceptionally prominent beneath her fingertips, forming a sharp contrast with her small, dainty hand.
"You didn't come to Ancient Runes yesterday. Were you out making trouble again?"
Hermione's voice held a trace of a scold, but her actions under the desk were unhesitating.
Her fingertips gently stroked the shaft of the spear, sensing the moisture that hadn't completely dried and the still-slippery head at the tip.
She greedily perceived the scents of Professor McGonagall and Aurora lingering on Jerry's lower half from the night before.
Hermione's fingertips traced circles around the head, like waking a sleeping beast, causing the tip to begin seeping transparent mucus again.
Hermione's pinky finger gently teased back the foreskin, exposing the massive head of the spear completely before pressing down with the pad of her finger.
"Mmh... hiss..."
Jerry let out a low moan, burying his face in his arms.
The stimulation was too intense, throwing his thoughts into total chaos.
Hermione's hand toyed with the spear as if she couldn't bear to let go, her pinky finger nimbly probing into the urethral opening, stirring within.
She could feel the spear twitching incessantly from her play, and the transparent mucus at the tip increased, making her fingers soaking wet.
"Such a bad boy."
Hermione whispered softly, but her voice was filled with uncontrollable desire.
She naturally knew and fully understood that she had a near-obsessive craving for Jerry's body fluids.
This addiction allowed a nearly manic self to hide beneath her usually rigorous and intellectual image.
Waves of fragrance drifted from Hermione, a refined scent mixed with the rising body heat of desire.
Hermione leaned in close to Jerry's ear, asking softly, "You smell like other women."
Hermione's breath brushed Jerry's ear, sending a wave of numbness through him, while the hand under the table suddenly increased its pressure. Her fingertips gave a heavy scrape at the frenulum of the spear, carrying a hint of punishment.
Jerry's body tensed abruptly, nearly jumping out of his seat. He bit his tongue hard to prevent himself from letting out an obvious cry.
"Last night... Hermione, don't, class is starting..."
Jerry's voice trembled with tension and pleasure.
"Class?"
Hermione repeated contemptuously. Her fingertips suddenly left Jerry's spear, moving instead to grip his trousers beneath the desk. With a gentle pull, she dragged the pants Jerry had just barely pulled up all the way down to his thighs.
That thick, tensed desire was now completely exposed to the air under the desk.
Hermione leaned in even closer, her nose nearly touching Jerry's tip, taking a slight breath.
"You still remember class? As the Class Representative for Ancient Runes, I must punish you. Why did you skip class yesterday?"
"Mmh..."
A rich, unique masculine scent belonging to Jerry surged into Hermione's nostrils.
That powerful pheromone caused a boom in Hermione's brain; all her reason and rigor were instantly washed away.
Hermione's body shuddered violently, her breathing turning rapid, her eyes becoming dazed and unfocused. The steadfastness and self-restraint she had always prided herself on were now proved utterly fragile before Jerry's scent.
"Hah... hah..."
Hermione began to pant heavily, her palms deathly tight on Jerry's trouser legs, her knuckles turning white from the force.
The sensation of moist heat within her was spreading at an alarming rate, causing the desire for control that had arisen from her teasing to be completely replaced by a more primal hunger.
Hermione's cheeks were flushed dark red, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Those eyes, usually filled with wisdom, were now blurred by a layer of moisture as if tears might burst forth at any moment.
Hermione felt all the strength being extracted from her body, her legs going soft and her breathing becoming increasingly difficult.
"Fine, Class Representative. I accept your punishment."
Jerry acted quickly.
One hand accurately and powerfully pinned Hermione's neck, giving her no chance to resist.
The temperature and pressure of his palm carried an unquestionable command.
His other hand skillfully gripped Hermione's chin, tilting it up so her face was aimed directly at his increasingly hideous, erect monster.
"Since you love this scent so much, then have a proper taste."
Jerry's voice was low and raspy. He looked into Hermione's dazed, moisture-filmed eyes, clearly seeing the near-obsessive light within, drowned in desire.
Hermione's body shook from being forcefully controlled by him. She tried to struggle, but her strength had been drained dry; she could only emit low, whimper-like hums.
Her reason had reached its limit, ready to be swept away by that powerful instinct at any second.
Jerry's arm exerted slight force, forcing Hermione's head closer to him.
His scent invaded Hermione's nose and mouth with increasing intensity.
Hermione's breathing became even more frantic. A gulp came from deep in her throat; the intense secretion of saliva made her feel an unprecedented thirst.
Jerry pressed the thick, tensed meat-root directly against Hermione's slightly parted lips.
The meat-root—forming a powerful contrast with his boyish frame—was still seeping transparent mucus at the tip, carrying a warm and slippery touch.
Hermione's body gave a violent jolt. She instinctively opened her mouth wide, her tongue reaching out to lightly lick the tip of the meat-root.
"Woo..." A deeper moan escaped Hermione's throat.
That familiar, lethally tempting taste caused Hermione's final line of defense to collapse completely.
Jerry gave Hermione no chance for regrets.
(Three thousand words omitted...)
Hermione lifted her head weakly. Those eyes once full of wisdom were now dazed and unfocused due to the orgasm and the massive amount of body fluid she'd swallowed, filled with a heart-stopping obsession.
Her tongue reached out, attempting to lick away the fluids around her mouth and nose, but her movements were so slow and powerless she couldn't clean them off.
That intense influx of Jerry's fluids was currently washing through her senses, thoroughly flushing away the last of her reason.
Her addiction to Jerry's fluids had been satisfied to the highest degree at this moment, but the impact of that satisfaction nearly shattered her spirit.
At the podium, the Ancient Runes professor continued his lecture tirelessly, completely unaware that right under his nose, the two "top students" of Slytherin and Gryffindor had just engaged in such a wild union.
The other students in the classroom were busy taking notes; no one noticed the scene in the corner.
"Hah... Jerry..."
Hermione's voice was exceptionally hoarse, carrying a weak trace of infatuation.
"I... I... want more..." Hermione extended her tongue, trying to lick the saliva and fluids of her own making from Jerry's fingers.
Those dazed eyes stared dead at Jerry, filled with unquenchable craving.
Jerry used his thumb to gently wipe a drop of fluid from the side of Hermione's nose, his movement carrying an almost imperceptible tenderness.
He leaned down, whispering into her ear, which was red and swollen from intense desire: "None of this is free, Hermione. Just like your mother's wizarding bloodline modification surgery!"
These words were like ice-cold spring water, dousing the frantic flames in Hermione's mind, yet stirring up a new ripple.
Hermione's chaotic gaze focused instantly. Although her body remained as limp as mud on Jerry's thighs, those eyes—usually full of wisdom and ambition—flashed with a sharp light once more.
As her desire was temporarily sated, Hermione's shrewdness and cunning began to return.
"I know that, of course."
Hermione's voice remained hoarse, but her tone had regained a portion of its characteristic dominance.
She laboriously licked her lower lip with a tongue still drenched in his fluids, seemingly still savoring the taste from moments ago, while her fingertips suddenly moved, tracing several complex runes on Jerry's forearm.
In an instant, a faint mental pulse, perceptible only to Jerry, radiated outward with Hermione as the center.
In Jerry's mind, a strange and mysterious space immediately surfaced.
It was an ethereal, circular hall wrapped in brilliant starlight, with countless tiny points of light shuttling through it, each point seeming to connect to an independent mirror world.
In the center of the hall hovered a massive, shimmering magic mirror.
Countless images, some blurred and some crystal clear, flickered within the mirror, displaying a myriad of scenes from different angles—all filled with a heavy atmosphere of desire, yet laced with the fantasy and secrecy of the wizarding world.
"Welcome to the 'Forbidden Eden,' Jerry."
Hermione's voice echoed directly in Jerry's mind through the mental link, carrying a trace of pride she couldn't hide.
This virtual space was clearly the backend of the website Hermione was operating in private.
Jerry's gaze swept across the points of light; he could distinguish scantily-clad witches dancing in the air, hot-bodied gorgons performing provocative rituals in secret chambers, and even succubi using magic to tease different subjects.
Although these images carried erotic overtones, they were filled with magical elements, featuring shocking scales yet being incredibly stimulating.
Hermione had set the website to be open only to witches, and only witches could view the content, which undoubtedly satisfied the secret desires and curiosity deep within the hearts of witches to a massive extent.
At the edge of the magic mirror, a set of numbers flickered. With a thought from Hermione, those numbers surfaced clearly in Jerry's mind—"176,342 Galleons."
"This is the net profit I've made so far, after deducting all maintenance and mana consumption costs," Hermione's voice said, with an enticing low pitch. "In such a short period of time."
Jerry's heart gave a violent thud.
One hundred and seventy-six thousand gold Galleons!
This was an absolute mountain of wealth.
"This is only the beginning."
Hermione seemed to sense Jerry's surprise, and her mental pulse became even more resolute.
"But it's not enough. I still need you.
Your alchemy and runic knowledge are the keys to taking 'Eden' even further."
Jerry noticed that beside that massive virtual magic mirror, several ethereal design drafts were also hovering.
With a flick of Hermione's mind, several design drawings were enlarged and presented in Jerry's mental vision.
They were the new upgrade designs for the "Forbidden Eden" client.
"The current 'Eden,' though secretive, is still based on the physical connection of magical items and magic mirrors."
Hermione's voice carried a hint of disdain, as if she were slightly dissatisfied with her own masterpiece. "There is the possibility of being eavesdropped upon, and the risk of being cracked by more advanced counter-magic."
The design Hermione displayed was a type of soul-transmission device.
It could be designed as an exquisite necklace, a gemstone set in a ring, or a piece of magical jewelry that appeared ordinary on the outside.
"The user only needs to wear it on their person, and they can directly dive deep into 'Eden' through a pure mental power connection."
Hermione explained, "It will completely eliminate any eavesdropping based on physical links and entirely rule out the possibility of cracked runes or tracked mental imprints."
Jerry looked at those complex runes and alchemical frameworks; even with his understanding of alchemy, he couldn't help but feel shocked.
This design undoubtedly surpassed any known technology in the current wizarding world.
"Of course!"
Hermione continued, her voice carrying a trace of helplessness but also a hint of expectation. "It's just that my current level of alchemy is not yet enough to independently manufacture a device of this grade.
It requires an extremely complex combination of rune arrays and precise control over mental guidance... for this, I need your help."
Jerry perceived this as an opportunity.
This design was undoubtedly epoch-making; once realized, it would completely change the way secret communication and virtual experiences were conducted.
"And once soul-transmission becomes possible, I have another idea."
Hermione's voice suddenly became excited, carrying a hint of fanaticism. "Livestreaming!
We can open livestream rooms. As long as they wear the soul-transmission device, they can share our 'lives' in real-time, even the most private moments."
Livestreaming?
Jerry's eyebrows shot up.
This term was a concept almost unheard of in the wizarding world.
"Imagine it, Jerry!"
Hermione's voice carried a hint of bewitchment. "We can interact with the audience in real-time. The audience can use their Gringotts accounts to send us gold Galleons directly in the form of mental imprints as tips."
"In Gringotts' transaction contracts, besides traditional physical coins and checks, mental imprints can also serve as proof of transaction, can't they?"
Hermione's voice became full of confidence. "Those secret transactions are usually conducted via mental imprints rather than actual gold coin movement.
This feature will bring unimaginable revenue to 'Eden'."
Hermione's ambition was far greater than Jerry had imagined.
Jerry withdrew his gaze from Hermione's design drawings in the mental world and looked back at the girl before him—cheeks flushed, body slumped limply on his thighs.
Traces of his unwiped body fluids still hung from the corners of her mouth, and the scent likely still lingered deep in her nostrils. Driven by desire, she appeared fragile and alluring, yet beneath that fragile exterior was hidden a mind so shrewd it was almost terrifying.
The Runes professor was still droning on at the podium; the classroom was as usual.
"Interesting."
Jerry finally evaluated, his voice hoarse with a trace of unmaskable interest.
His fingers rubbed gently on the back of Hermione's neck, carrying a new kind of consideration and judgment.
"Was all of this the result of your research alone?"
Jerry just asked casually, but Hermione's body stiffened abruptly.
"Hah... Jerry..." Hermione let out a satisfied sigh, her body arching slightly under his fingertips. Her neck, which had been stiff from the long duration, received a moment of relaxation.
However, her thoughts did not linger on that physical pleasure.
Hermione suddenly jerked her head up. She pushed her body up, sitting a bit straighter. Though her legs were still weak and couldn't completely leave Jerry's thighs, her eyes stared directly at Jerry, filled with apology and candor.
"I'm sorry, Jerry, I... I must confess to you." Hermione's voice was still a bit hoarse, carrying the stickiness of having swallowed his fluids, but her tone was incredibly firm. "Actually, 'Forbidden Eden,' including all those exquisite designs, isn't just the result of my efforts alone!"
Jerry's eyebrows twitched slightly, a trace of playfulness flashing in his eyes.
Looking at Hermione's near-morbid seriousness, the corners of his mouth curled into a slight arc.
Jerry reached out a hand. Instead of touching Hermione's swollen lips again—which still held the warmth of his fluids—he reached out more directly and unhesitatingly toward her chest, heavily pinching Hermione's left nipple—the soft bud wrapped beneath her school uniform and shirt.
"Oh?"
Jerry's voice carried a hint of aroused, richer interest and an aggressive scrutiny. "Who is it?
Whose efforts were involved?"
The fingertips pressed against the bud rubbed and kneaded it. Hermione's body shivered sensitively, and she took a sharp breath but dared not make a loud sound because the professor in the front row was looking back.
Her fair neck also flushed a faint red due to this sudden stimulation and the shame of being potentially seen.
"Mmh... mmh... Jerry!"
Hermione panted softly, her body going limp again due to the numbness and slight pain surging from the sudden violation, but the candor and firmness in her eyes did not diminish in the slightest.
"It's Liliana, Hannah... and Cho Chang... for now, it's just the three of them."
Hermione's voice remained weak, yet every word came through clearly, carrying a hint of helplessness and a sense of recommendation.
The trembling of her body intensified due to the increased pressure from Jerry's fingertips, but she bit her lower lip hard, struggling to maintain her composure as she tried to convince Jerry as quickly as possible.
Jerry gave Hermione's nipple several more heavy twists, feeling the bud grow harder under his fingertips. Hermione's body also writhed and struggled in his arms, but he released his hand without a shred of pity.
"We formed a society and were assigned an undetectable extension classroom as the society's base... I'm sorry, I invited them to join in your name, because operating Forbidden Eden requires a lot of energy. My mother hasn't undergone the wizard modification surgery yet, so my energy alone wasn't enough... and they were all willing to participate in the new videos."
Jerry understood the reason why Hermione was willing to share the credit.
As it turned out, it was because Hermione had actually used his name to establish this society.
However, they all sounded like acquaintances!
It seemed there was nothing wrong with it.
The scale of Forbidden Eden's spread was growing wider and wider. The videos Jerry had filmed previously were all already listed. He was just thinking about whether he should film a batch of new videos, and he hadn't expected Hermione to have already found the new lead actresses.
"Take me there after class!"
As the bell rang for the end of the Runes class, while the professor tidied the teaching materials and the students rose to pack their books, Hermione dragged her still sore and trembling body and quickly left her seat.
Hermione led Jerry through the crowded corridors, walking briskly toward an inconspicuous society activity room deep within Hogwarts.
Hogwarts had always encouraged wizard apprentices to create societies, aiming to stimulate their creativity and social skills.
Hermione gently pushed open the wooden door, which was cast with a precise Silencing Charm.
The light inside the room was somewhat dim, provided not by natural light but by several rune stones emitting a soft magical glow.
The air was filled with a faint fragrance mixed with a sandalwood-like woody scent, carrying an air of mystery and tranquility.
As soon as Jerry stepped into the room, his gaze quickly locked onto the center.
It wasn't filled with the usual tables, chairs, or experimental equipment found in common societies, but three wooden high-back chairs carved with complex runes.
On each chair sat a familiar figure.
Liliana's high breasts propped her shirt tight, the buttons looking ready to burst. Her rounded, full breasts proclaimed her "babyface with giant breasts" characteristic.
Although her expression was calm, fine beads of sweat had seeped from her forehead, and her blonde hair was a bit messy, showing a high level of mental concentration.
Hannah Abbott.
Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her eyes closed tight, and her brows slightly knit. She was clearly enduring a significant amount of pressure.
Her robes were also a bit askew, revealing her fair neck beneath.
Cho Chang.
Her body was perfectly straight, but her lips were pressed tight. Her originally cold face now appeared somewhat pale, and her breathing was more rapid than usual.
Her long hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, but a few strands wet with sweat could be seen near her ears.
Each of the three had her hands tightly gripping an ancient-style wooden cross.
The crosses themselves did not emit obvious magical pulses, but judging from their tensed bodies and expressionless faces, they were clearly doing something extremely mentally taxing within the mental world constructed by the soul-transmission.
They seemed completely immersed in their own mental worlds, not noticing Jerry and Hermione's arrival at all.
Hermione closed the door softly and gave Jerry a slightly triumphant smile.
She was just about to introduce them further when the three girls immersed in the mental world began to undergo a quiet change.
The first to react was Cho Chang.
Her originally closed eyelids quivered slightly, and a ripple of nearly imperceptible emotion flashed across her cold brows.
As a high-year exchange student, her mental power was undoubtedly much higher than the other two, and her perception was more acute.
A new scent—Jerry's unique pheromones from the real world—pierced through the protection of her mental power field and reached the depths of her consciousness.
She slowly "withdrew" from that virtual "Eden," as if a traveler on a long journey had finally stepped onto solid ground, her body giving a violent jolt.
Cho Chang's eyes snapped open.
The moment her gaze touched the composed boy standing beside Hermione, a peach-colored blush rapidly spread across her cheeks, reaching all the way to her ears.
She saw Jerry; he had truly come here!
This was fundamentally different from voyeurism in a video or hearing from Hermione's description that the core existence of "Forbidden Eden" was a masked boy.
Cho Chang's return to consciousness seemed to push over the first domino.
Next, Liliana and Hannah woke up from their deep mental states one after another.
Liliana's "babyface with giant breasts" frame gave a slight arch in the chair, her chest—tightened by her school uniform—rising and falling with her rapid breathing. Her originally closed brown eyes snapped open, a trace of daze and blur still lingering in her gaze, as if she hadn't quite detached from the illusion of "Eden."
When Liliana's gaze fell on Jerry, her expression shifted rapidly from initial confusion to surprise, and then into a deeper, thicker shyness.
She certainly knew who the "male lead" of "Eden" was. Hermione had shown her the unmasked videos, but facing him in person, that secret throb buried deep in her heart and the shame of facing the "source" were far stronger and more real than she had imagined.
Especially in a setting like this.
Hannah Abbott's reaction was slightly delayed. She first let out a blurred moan, her brows knitting in pain, as if she had just experienced a long and taxing mental struggle.
She took a sharp breath, her eyes snapping open.
Seeing Jerry, a smile immediately appeared on her face. She was the first to join this society because she knew Hermione definitely wasn't acting on a whim. She wasn't about to let Hermione have Jerry all to herself.
Jerry watched them with a smile on his face, saying very gently, "I'm glad you could join the society. But I can't let you waste your time and offer selfless dedication for nothing. I've discussed this with Hermione—what do you want?
You can all state your requests.
As your salary for participating in the management of the society."
The three girls who had just returned to reality from the mental world each had faces written with complex, unspeakable emotions.
Liliana and Cho Chang's reactions were completely different.
Liliana's cheeks shifted from a shy crimson to a mix of curiosity, struggle, and an aroused excitement bordering on challenge.
Cho Chang, on the other hand, maintained her usual coldness, but her slightly trembling eyelids and tightly pressed thin lips betrayed her inner turmoil.
She said nothing, merely casting her gaze toward Hannah beside her, seemingly waiting for something.
Sure enough, the one who broke this delicate balance was Hannah Abbott.
Hannah Abbott took a deep breath, seemingly summoning the greatest courage of her life.
With a bit of desperate stubbornness and a burning gaze, she stared directly at Jerry and was the first to speak.
"I want your 'white seeds.'
I want as much as you give to Hermione."
Hannah's voice wasn't loud, and even carried an imperceptible tremble, but in the quiet room, it rang out as clear as a thunderclap.
"Only that!" she added heavily, for fear Jerry hadn't heard clearly or had misunderstood her meaning.
Hermione's face stiffened, a flash of dissatisfaction in her eyes. Had she known, she wouldn't have brought this girl in.
Wait, it was this girl who had nagged and pestered her way into the society in the first place.
That damn bitch!
But a playful expression appeared on Jerry's face.
"Since Hannah has stated her request!" Jerry's gaze finally landed back on Liliana and Cho Chang, the corners of his mouth curling into a meaningful arc. "What about you two?"
"I want... you... to keep me!" Cho Chang couldn't hold it back anymore, or rather, she said it impatiently.
Cho Chang's eyes were filled with greed.
It was clear that the "transaction" between Jerry and her last time had not only failed to lead her back from her path, but had instead pushed her a step deeper into the decadence of wealth.