A warm fire burned in the hearth of the Headmistress's office.
An exquisite set of English teaware rested on the oak desk; wisps of white steam rose from the white porcelain teapot, and the air was filled with the distinct bergamot aroma of Earl Grey tea.
Professor McGonagall stood behind the desk.
Holding the teapot in her right hand and steadying the lid with her left, she poured the amber tea into four teacups.
The sound of the tea hitting the bottom of the cups was crisp and rhythmic—splash, splash, splash, splash—four cups, not a drop more, not a drop less.
She wore a dark grey wizard's robe, cinched at the waist with a thin, dark green belt that perfectly outlined the figure of a woman in her prime, in her thirties.
Her black hair was coiled into a sharp high bun, with a few stray strands falling by her ears.
Behind her square spectacles, her green eyes currently bore an extremely subtle expression—somewhere between irritation and resignation.
Su Chan sat in an armchair across the desk, her legs crossed very high.
That dark emerald modified qipao had already been treated with a Scouring Charm by her; not a single wrinkle or stain could be seen on the silk fabric, as if nothing had ever happened.
Her posture was incredibly languid.
She held the teacup McGonagall had just handed her in her left hand, while the index finger of her right hand slowly traced circles around the rim.
Her lips took a small sip of the black tea, her dark, phoenix-like eyes half-closed in a leisurely expression.
It was impossible to tell that fifteen minutes ago, she had been kneeling on the floor, sucking on something as thick as her forearm.
And in another armchair opposite Su Chan...
That chair was too big.
So big that the person sitting in it couldn't even reach the floor with his feet.
Jerry sat in the chair, his two short legs dangling in the air.
But absolutely no one dared to treat him as just a boy.
At this moment, he held a snow-white little kitten in his arms.
Catherine was curled up on Jerry's lap.
Her snow-white fur was fluffy and soft, her large emerald-green eyes half-closed, a contented purr rumbling in her throat.
Jerry's left arm was wrapped around her furry body, while the fingers of his right hand idly scratched under her chin.
Catherine's ears twitched slightly under his fingertips, and the tip of her tail wrapped around Jerry's wrist, tightening occasionally.
Professor McGonagall placed the last cup of tea on the saucer in front of Jerry.
Then she straightened up, put her hands on her hips, and glared fiercely at Jerry.
That single glare contained a massive amount of information—anger, headache, powerlessness, and a deep despair of "how did I end up stuck with you as my ward."
Jerry looked up, meeting McGonagall's gaze.
On that round, boyish face, his large grey eyes blinked.
His expression was as innocent as a cat caught red-handed stealing dried fish but refusing to admit it.
Catherine, in his arms, offered a cooperative "Meow."
Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, silently repeating "I cannot hex my ward" three times in her head, then pulled out her own chair and sat down.
She picked up her teacup and took a sip.
Then she set it down and looked at Su Chan.
"Traveling all this way to Hogwarts."
McGonagall's voice was calm, but the corners of her mouth bore an extremely caustic, sarcastic curve.
"Madam Su Chan, surely you didn't come all this way just to—eat a sausage?"
The teacup paused in Su Chan's hand.
Su Chan lifted her dark phoenix eyes, looking over the rim of the cup at McGonagall.
Her expression did not change.
Then she set the teacup down, switched the leg she was crossing, the silk stockings producing a faint rustle from the friction.
"What of it?"
Su Chan's voice was incredibly languid, carrying the haughtiness of an Oriental superior.
"You lot get to eat it every day; am I not allowed a taste?"
The corner of McGonagall's mouth twitched.
Catherine's ears perked up, and her emerald eyes cast a displeased look at Su Chan.
Jerry sat in the chair, his two short legs continuing to dangle, his facial expression entirely unmoving.
His right hand continued scratching under Catherine's chin, his finger movements steady and rhythmic, as if the things that had just happened had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Su Chan picked up her teacup again and took another sip.
Her gaze swept over the rim of the cup and landed on Jerry.
Specifically, it landed on Jerry's crotch.
Those loose black sweatpants were currently worn properly on his body.
But Su Chan knew all too well what was hidden beneath those pants.
That massive, terrifying weapon—whose thickness was completely disproportionate to this short body—was now lying quietly dormant beneath the wrapping of the fabric.
A massive meat-root that would strike fear even into the heart of an adult wizard.
This sense of contrast caused Su Chan's brain to momentarily short-circuit every time.
She withdrew her gaze and placed the teacup back on its saucer with a soft clink.
"I want to order another batch of Crystal Golems."
Su Chan spoke those words.
Her tone switched instantly from the languid flirting of a moment ago to the precise and sharp edge of a business negotiation.
Jerry's fingers paused.
Catherine nudged his palm displeasedly, urging him to continue scratching.
Jerry looked down at her, and his fingers began to move again.
"Ordering any amount is not a problem."
Jerry's voice was crisp, carrying the youthful timbre of a boy.
But the words he spoke were as seasoned as an old fox who had been navigating the business world for decades.
"But you have to pay first."
Su Chan's phoenix eyes narrowed.
"I have no money."
Her answer was clean and decisive.
"But I can use other things to offset the debt."
Jerry's short legs swung.
"What things?"
Before Su Chan could answer, Professor McGonagall spoke first.
"You're short on money?"
McGonagall, holding her teacup, looked at Su Chan. A sharp light of knowing realization flashed in her green eyes.
"You control the largest underground Quidditch syndicate. And you're short on money?"
The moment this was said.
Jerry's short legs stopped swinging.
He looked up, his large grey eyes looking at McGonagall, a flash of genuine surprise in his eyes.
Underground Quidditch syndicates.
Peripheral bookmaking.
This was one of the most profitable and secretive grey industries in the entire wizarding world community.
Quidditch, as a beloved sport in all magical worlds—whether in Europe, Asia, Africa, or the Americas—had a staggering audience base.
Official Quidditch betting was regulated by the Departments of Magical Games and Sports in various Ministries, which extracted heavy taxes.
But the underground peripheral bookmakers bypassed this regulation entirely, directly interfacing with millions of lower-class wizard gamblers.
Malfoy had mentioned this to Jerry more than once.
Senior Malfoy had always wanted a piece of the underground Quidditch bookmaking action; he was even willing to put up a third of the Malfoy family's liquid assets as an entry fee.
But every probe hit a brick wall, because the true boss behind that syndicate was hidden too deep.
Not even the Malfoy family's intelligence network, which spread across the entire dark side of Europe, could trace it back to the source.
Now McGonagall was telling him that the source was sitting across from him, crossing her legs and drinking black tea.
Jerry re-evaluated Su Chan.
This woman.
One of the four Executive Deputy Directors of the Heavenly Dao Alliance, one of the highest authorities in the Asian magical world, ruling a vast power spanning hundreds of Eastern worlds.
And simultaneously, the boss behind the underground Quidditch bookmaking syndicate.
This meant her hands were in two pools at once—one military and political, the other global grey finance.
"Interesting."
Jerry uttered that single word.
Su Chan's phoenix eyes swept over McGonagall.
"Minerva, your information is quite well-informed."
Su Chan used McGonagall's first name. This form of address implied that the relationship between the two was much more private than it appeared on the surface.
McGonagall set down her teacup and leaned back in her chair.
"Whether my information is well-informed is irrelevant.
What matters is—you, Su Chan, hold the world's largest underground Quidditch syndicate, with an annual turnover of at least thirty million gold Galleons.
And you're telling me you have no money?"
Su Chan's expression changed.
That languor and teasing vanished. It was replaced by a true, heavy exhaustion.
She uncrossed her legs, placing both feet together on the floor.
Her back straightened, and she placed her hands, fingers interlaced, on her knees.
"I have no money."
She repeated it.
"Not a single bronze Knut."
Her voice sank.
"Every single gold Galleon has been poured into the colonial war."
The room was quiet for a second.
Catherine's purring stopped, her green cat eyes looking curiously at Su Chan.
Jerry's fingers also stopped scratching Catherine.
"The situation on the front lines—"
Su Chan's gaze fell on the fire in the hearth, the two dancing flames reflecting as tiny bright spots in her jet-black pupils.
"It is no exaggeration to say that all the resources of the entire Asian Ministry of Magic have been thrown into it."
She pulled a folded parchment from the hidden pocket of her qipao, unfolded it, and placed it on McGonagall's desk.
It was a map.
But not an ordinary map.
It was a structural diagram of world communities.
Countless circular nodes, large and small, were densely distributed across the parchment; each node represented an independent world.
The nodes were connected by lines of various colors, representing the passages and connections between worlds.
Su Chan's finger tapped on the center of the map.
There was a massive, nebula-like cluster composed of countless dense nodes.
The color of the cluster was deep red, forming a stark contrast with the surrounding blue (representing the Wizarding World communities) and gold (representing the destroyed Pseudo-Olympian Pantheon world communities).
"This is the Cultivation World community."
Su Chan's voice became incredibly serious.
"Its scale—is even larger than the Pseudo-Olympian Pantheon world community you faced previously."
Jerry's grey eyes fell upon that deep red cluster.
"How much larger?"
"About three to four times."
Su Chan's finger drew a circle around the edge of the deep red cluster.
"The core worlds of the Pseudo-Olympian Pantheon world community numbered around two hundred. Including subsidiary worlds and resource worlds, the total was no more than a thousand."
Her finger moved to the center of the deep red cluster.
"The core worlds of the Cultivation World community—just the ones we have currently mapped—exceed eight hundred.
Including subsidiary worlds, secret realms, blessed grottos, and those small independent planes hidden in folded space, a conservative estimate puts the total number at over four thousand."
Four thousand worlds.
Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed tightly.
Catherine lifted her head from Jerry's lap, her large green eyes staring at the map, her ears twitching slightly, clearly listening intently.
Su Chan's finger traced the outer perimeter of the deep red cluster.
"The location of the Cultivation World community is extremely unique. It is situated in the middle of a highly complex world-crystal wall."
Her finger traced several winding lines on the map.
"World-crystal walls... you can understand them as the 'walls' between worlds.
Under normal circumstances, world-crystal walls are evenly distributed, and their thickness is relatively stable.
But in the region where the Cultivation World community is located, the structure of the crystal walls is incredibly chaotic."
She scored a few marks on the parchment with her fingernail.
"In some places, the crystal wall is as thin as paper, easily pierced with a light poke, forming natural world passages.
In some places, the crystal wall is as thick as a mountain; even if ten Nascent Soul cultivators used all their mana, they couldn't chip away even a fraction of an inch.
Furthermore, the thickness and position of these crystal walls are not fixed—they are constantly changing, flowing, and restructuring."
"What does that mean?" McGonagall asked.
"It means that when our armies are fighting in that region, the terrain undergoes massive changes every few days.
A world passage that was navigable yesterday might become an impassable dead wall today.
A resource world that was in the safe rear yesterday might suddenly be exposed directly within the enemy's attack range today due to the shifting of the crystal wall."
Su Chan's voice grew deeper and heavier.
"Fighting in that kind of environment, logistical supply lines could be severed at any moment.
Reinforcements could get lost at any moment.
Even an entire fleet could be permanently trapped in some uninhabited, abandoned world due to a sudden shift in the crystal wall."
Her finger tapped on several special marks inside the deep red cluster.
"And the cultivators have lived in this region for tens of thousands of years.
They know the patterns of the crystal walls' movements like the back of their hands.
Their array formations can even manipulate the movement of the crystal walls on a small scale.
To them, this chaotic region of crystal walls is their home turf, their fortress, their natural defense line."
She looked up at Jerry.
"Our armies have suffered countless losses there.
Ambushed, surrounded, supplies cut off, trapped and starved to death in folded spaces.
If not for your Crystal Golems—changing the course of the battle."
She paused.
"We would have been driven back long ago."
Su Chan withdrew her hand from the map, interlacing her fingers on her lap.
"The current situation on the front lines is—with the support of the Crystal Golems, we have successfully captured seventeen resource worlds on the periphery of the Cultivation World community.
These worlds produce Spirit Stones, Spirit Herbs, and various rare heavenly treasures, which are crucial to our war economy."
"But the enemy is no pushover either."
A trace of gloom flashed in Su Chan's eyes.
"The individual combat power of cultivators is terrifying.
Their top-tier combatants—those so-called 'old monsters of the Deity Transformation stage'—can destroy a standard wizard army of a thousand men single-handedly.
Our conventional forces are just cannon fodder before them.
Only the Crystal Golems can fight them head-on."
"And the sheer number of cultivators..."
Su Chan's voice became even heavier.
"Over four thousand worlds. Each world has its own sects, families, and rogue cultivators.
A conservative estimate puts the total population of cultivators at over fifty billion.
Among them, those who meet the combat power standard number at least three hundred million."
Three hundred million.
This number silenced everyone present for a second.
"And the total wizard population of the Asian Ministry of Magic, including all subsidiary worlds, is about four billion, but those who can truly fight number no more than forty million."
A bitter smile appeared on the corner of Su Chan's mouth.
"Forty million against three hundred million. Nearly a one-to-eight ratio."
"This war is locked in a stalemate.
For every resource world we capture, we pay a heavy price.
And the speed at which we capture them cannot keep up with the speed of consumption.
Gold Galleons, potions, weapons, personnel—everything is pouring into the bottomless pit of the front lines at a terrifying rate."
She looked at Jerry.
"Thirty million gold Galleons in annual turnover from the peripheral Quidditch syndicate sounds like a lot, doesn't it?"
Her finger tapped lightly on the desk.
"The military expenditure on the front lines for one month is twenty million."
"An annual turnover of thirty million, after deducting operating costs and dividends, yields a net profit of about fifteen million."
She tapped again.
"Fifteen million. That won't even burn for a month on the front lines."
"That's why I said, I have no money."
Su Chan spread her hands.
"I truly do not have a single bronze Knut left."
Jerry sat in the large armchair, his two short legs swinging at the edge of the chair.
Catherine let out a tiny yawn in his arms, exposing her little pink tongue, then curled up again.
"So what do you want to use to offset the debt?"
Jerry asked.
Su Chan's finger pointed at several locations inside the deep red cluster on the map.
"Resource worlds."
Her voice regained the precision belonging to a negotiator.
"We have already captured seventeen peripheral resource worlds of the Cultivation World community.
The Spirit Stones, Spirit Herbs, and various special minerals produced by these worlds are extremely scarce in the Wizarding World communities."
Her finger circled three of those worlds.
"These three worlds... I can give you exclusive mining rights.
For a term of fifty years.
As payment for a new batch of Crystal Golems."
Jerry's grey eyes stared at the three circled nodes.
Catherine also craned her neck curiously, her green cat eyes looking at the map.
"Exclusive mining rights." Jerry repeated. "What is the current security situation of these worlds?"
"The outer defense line has been secured," Su Chan answered.
"The main force of the cultivators has been pushed back to the second ring by the Crystal Golems.
These three worlds are currently under our absolute control."
"But you just said the crystal walls shift." Jerry tilted his head.
"If a large-scale shift occurs in the crystal walls, is it possible for these three worlds to be exposed to enemy attack again?"
Su Chan was silent for a second.
"It's possible."
She did not lie.
"But the probability is very low.
We have already deployed crystal-wall anchoring arrays around these three worlds, which can slow down the shifting speed of the crystal walls to a certain extent, buying time for evacuation."
Jerry's short legs stopped swinging.
"Exclusive mining rights for three worlds, fifty years."
He looked down at Catherine in his arms, scratching under her chin twice with his finger.
Catherine let out a satisfied purr.
"In exchange for how many Crystal Golems?"
"Five thousand."
Su Chan held up five fingers.
Jerry's eyebrow twitched.
"How many were in the last batch?"
"One hundred."
"One hundred allowed you to conquer seventeen worlds. Five thousand..."
The corner of Jerry's mouth turned up slightly.
"What do you plan to do with five thousand Crystal Golems? Flatten the core region of the Cultivation World community directly?"
Su Chan's phoenix eyes flashed.
"I won't hide it from you."
She leaned her body forward; the collar of that dark emerald qipao loosened slightly with the movement, revealing a section of fair collarbone.
"The strategic goal of the Heavenly Dao Alliance has shifted from 'defense' to 'all-out offense.'
The performance of the Crystal Golems on the front lines has shown the highest decision-making echelon the possibility of completely resolving the threat of the Cultivation World community."
Her finger drew an arc on the map, thrusting directly from the periphery of the Cultivation World community into the core.
"Five thousand Crystal Golems, combined with our three reorganized main legions, are enough to punch through the second ring defense line of the Cultivation World community and directly threaten their core worlds."
"Once the core worlds are threatened, those sects and families scattered across the four thousand-plus worlds will be forced to return and defend.
When that happens, the resource worlds we captured on the periphery will gain a breathing space to consolidate defenses and establish permanent forward bases."
A fanaticism belonging to a strategist burned in Su Chan's eyes.
"This is a window of opportunity.
The alliance within the Cultivation World community is not united; the contradictions and conflicts of interest among the major sects are incredibly complex.
If we can apply enough military pressure in a short amount of time, their alliance will very likely crumble from within."
"When that time comes—"
Her palm covered the center of the deep red cluster.
"The resources of these four thousand-plus worlds will be entirely ours."
Jerry looked at Su Chan's palm.
He looked at the dense deep red nodes on that map.
Then he lowered his head and blew a puff of air onto Catherine's ear.
"Meow!" Catherine's ear twitched from the puff, and she flicked her tail in displeasure.
Jerry chuckled.
"Exclusive mining rights to three worlds, fifty years, in exchange for five thousand Crystal Golems."
He repeated the terms of the trade.
Then, Jerry shifted his gaze from Catherine, looked up, and those large grey eyes stared directly into Su Chan's jet-black pupils.
Sitting in the large armchair, holding a cat, his two short legs dangling in the air.
But the look in those eyes caused Su Chan's breathing to stall for a second.
That was not the look of a boy.
"Acceptable."
Jerry said.
"But I have an additional condition."
Su Chan's phoenix eyes narrowed.
"What condition?"
Jerry's finger slowly traced circles on Catherine's back.
"That spy from the Cultivation Realm... I'm keeping her."
Su Chan's brow twitched.
"What use is she to you?"
"Intelligence value." Jerry's short legs swung.
"Besides, the underlying logic of her charm magic is very different from your Eastern cultivation system. I am interested in her techniques."
Su Chan looked at Jerry.
Then she glanced at Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall was holding her teacup, drinking black tea sip by sip, as if these matters had nothing to do with her at all.
But her green eyes shifted slightly behind her square glasses, clearly recording every single word.
"As you wish."
Su Chan finally nodded.
"But if she possesses any classified information regarding the Heavenly Dao Alliance, you must notify me before utilizing it."
"Of course."
Jerry's mouth curled into an arc.
He hopped down from the chair.
The top of his head only reached the height of Su Chan's chest while she was sitting.
Holding Catherine, he walked to the front of McGonagall's desk.
Because he was too short, he had to stand on his tiptoes to see the teacups on the desktop.
Professor McGonagall watched him stand on his tiptoes, the corner of her mouth twitching involuntarily.
This tiny first-year.
This shorty who couldn't even reach the table.
Twenty minutes ago, he was using a massive meat-root that would make an adult wizard despair, fucking an elite spy from the Cultivation Realm until she lost consciousness.
And now he stood before the desk, on his tiptoes, his small hand picking up a teacup and taking a sip of black tea.
Then he set the teacup down and wiped his mouth.
"By the way, Minerva."
Jerry used the same form of address as Su Chan.
McGonagall's temples throbbed violently.
"In the school, call me Professor McGonagall."
"Okay, Minerva."
"..."
Jerry patted Catherine in his arms.
"I'm heading back to the dormitory first. I have Potions class tomorrow."
He turned and walked toward the door.
His one-meter-twenty silhouette looked exceptionally tiny in the spacious Headmistress's office.
When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at Su Chan.
"About the order, I'll have Hermione contact you tomorrow. The production cycle will take about six weeks."
Su Chan nodded.
"Also—"
Jerry's grey eyes glinted.
"Give me a heads-up before you visit next time. And don't kick my guardian's door."
With that, he carried Catherine and walked out.
His small figure disappeared around the corner of the corridor.
The Headmistress's office was quiet for a few seconds.
Su Chan picked up her teacup and drank the last sip.
Professor McGonagall looked at her.
"How do you plan to explain kneeling in front of my student and eating that thing?"
Su Chan placed the empty teacup back on the saucer.
"I won't explain."
Her voice was utterly calm.
"I was just helping him lubricate. Didn't you do the same?"
Professor McGonagall's face flushed crimson.
She slammed her hands on the desk and shot up.
"I—that was—given the circumstances—!"
"Uh-huh."
Su Chan stood up and tugged at the hem of her qipao.
"Your black tea is quite good, Minerva."
She walked toward the door.
"Next time I come, remember to prepare two cups."
Her stilettos tapped out a final few clack, clack, clacks on the flagstone floor before she vanished at the other end of the corridor.
Professor McGonagall sat alone in the empty office.
She took off her square glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose hard.
"Merlin's beard..."
She cursed under her breath.
Then she looked up at the ancient mirror above the fireplace.
The mirror reflected her face—in her thirties, still fairly young, but with a few fine lines already forming at the corners of her eyes.
She felt every single one of those fine lines had been caused by Jerry making her mad.
She put her glasses back on, picked up her quill, and resumed grading assignments.
The fire in the hearth burned quietly.
Jerry walked down the path back to his dormitory, holding Catherine.
The corridors of Hogwarts became much quieter at dusk, as most students had gone to the Great Hall for dinner.
Orange-red sunset light filtered through the high stained-glass windows, casting colorful spots of light on the flagstone floor.
Catherine curled up in Jerry's arms, her snow-white cat tail wrapping around his wrist, her large emerald-green eyes half-squinted, and a contented purr rumbling in her throat.
Jerry, with his one-meter-twenty small frame holding a white cat, looked more like the cat was holding the person than the person holding the cat.
When they reached the dormitory door, Catherine suddenly jumped from Jerry's arms.
Tap.
Her four paws landed lightly on the flagstone floor.
Then her body twisted; the white fur receded, her limbs lengthened, and a humanoid figure stood before Jerry.
In her human form, Catherine was a full head taller than Jerry.
She wore a loose white shirt and a grey pleated miniskirt—the casual uniform of a Ministry of Magic intern.
The shirt was only buttoned to the third button; the collar was wide open, revealing a expanse of fair skin on her chest and a deep cleavage.
Her breasts were incredibly plump, the shirt fabric stretched taut under the weight of the two heavy mounds, revealing tiny gaps around the buttonholes with every breath.
She retained a pair of snow-white cat ears on the top of her head, the tips a pale pink, twitching slightly with her emotions.
Her tail was also still there, extending from a dedicated opening at the back of her skirt; the fluffy white long tail swished lazily side to side behind her.
Catherine crouched down.
She bent her knees, lowering her line of sight to be level with Jerry's. Her large emerald-green eyes looked straight into Jerry's grey pupils.
"My little pervert Master."
Her cat ears perked forward, and the tip of her tail drew small circles in the air.
"Mmh?"
Jerry pushed open the dormitory door and walked in.
Catherine followed him and closed the door with a click.
Jerry climbed onto the four-poster bed, which was far too large for him.
His short legs kicked at the edge of the bed twice before he tumbled onto it, then he sat cross-legged right in the center.
Catherine hopped onto the bed after him.
She didn't sit; instead, she lay down, her entire body prone on the bed, propped up on her elbows with her chin resting on the back of her crossed hands. Her green cat eyes looked up at Jerry from below.
This posture made the gap in her shirt collar even wider; the two heavy white orbs squeezed out a suffocatingly deep cleavage in the opening of the fabric.
Her tail arched high behind her, swaying side to side.
"Little pervert Master~"
She called out again.
"Speak."
Jerry leaned back against the pillows at the head of the bed, his two short legs stretched out flat on top of the covers.
Catherine's cat ears flattened slightly—her standard precursor to acting spoiled.
"Club activities."
Her voice became even more syrupy, every word sounding as if coated in honey.
"I want to participate in club activities too~"
"Aren't you interning at the Ministry of Magic?"
"Interning is interning, club is club~ They don't conflict~"
Catherine hitched her body forward, slowly inching closer to Jerry like a kitten begging for milk.
She lifted her chin from the back of her hands and rested it directly on Jerry's thigh. Her large emerald-green eyes gazed up at Jerry from extremely close range.
"I haven't participated in activities for so long~ Have you forgotten about me, little pervert Master~"
Her lips puckered slightly, her nose rubbing against the fabric of Jerry's sweatpants.
"Who forgot about you." Jerry reached his hand down, his fingers rubbing the base of her cat ears.
"Ah... mmh~"
Catherine let out a faint, nasal moan.
The base of her cat ears was one of her most sensitive spots; with every rub of Jerry's fingers, her body melted a little more.
Her tail dropped from its high arch, hanging limply, the tip resting lightly on the bedsheet, twitching weakly.
"Then can I participate~ little pervert Master~"
She rubbed her chin back and forth on Jerry's thigh, her emerald-green eyes pooling with moisture.
"You can."
"Really!"
Catherine's cat ears instantly perked up, and her tail snapped up, swaying wildly in the air.
She lay fully across Jerry's legs, her green eyes shining like two stars.
"You're the best, little pervert Master! Meow~"
She leaned up and planted a quick peck on Jerry's cheek.
Mwah.
Then her head suddenly dipped, her nose burying into the crotch of Jerry's sweatpants.
She took a deep breath.
Even in a resting state, that area bulged considerably due to the staggering size of the thing inside.
Catherine pressed her nose against the highest point of that bulge, greedily inhaling that intense musky scent that belonged to Jerry.
"Mmh~ The smell of my little pervert Master~"
Her voice was muffled, coming up from the crotch area.
Jerry looked down at her.
"Stop sniffing."
"Just one more sniff~"
Catherine rubbed her nose back and forth on the bulge, making the fabric of Jerry's sweatpants shift slightly; the slumbering behemoth beneath the cloth was jostled into a slight sway.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock on the door.
Catherine's cat ears snapped upright, her green eyes glaring displeasedly toward the door.
"Who is it!"
A familiar, slightly anxious female voice came from outside.
"Jerry! It's me! Hermione! Are you in there?"
Jerry patted Catherine's head.
"Get up."
Catherine reluctantly lifted her head from Jerry's lap, muttering complaints under her breath.
"Come in."
Jerry called out to the door.
The door was pushed open.
Hermione Granger stood in the doorway.
Her brown curls were tied into a ponytail, and she still had dark circles under her eyes from staying up late working on blueprints, but her eyes were astonishingly bright.
She wore the standard Hogwarts uniform; her Gryffindor red and gold tie was neatly knotted, and the hem of her school skirt fell about fifteen centimeters above her knees, revealing legs clad in white thigh-high socks.
She held two palm-sized, gold-shimmering cards in her hands.
They were Quidditch tickets.
"Jerry! Look!"
Hermione jogged into the room, holding the two tickets up in front of Jerry.
Because Jerry was sitting on the bed and Hermione was standing beside it, she had to bend over to present them to him.
"Tickets for the opening match of the Quidditch World Cup! VIP box! The best view facing directly over the center of the pitch!"
Hermione's voice trembled slightly with excitement.
"It's an invitation sent directly from the Department of Magical Games and Sports! Because our club is the exclusive supplier of souvenirs for this tournament, they gave us two free VIP tickets!"
She looked at Jerry with sparkling eyes.
"The opening match starts next Saturday! Ireland versus Bulgaria! Viktor Krum is playing! He's a world-class Seeker!"
Hermione said all this in one breath, then inhaled deeply, her cheeks flushing red from excitement and lack of oxygen.
"Jerry, let's go together!"
Jerry took the tickets and flipped them over to look.
The Quidditch World Cup logo was printed on the golden cards—two crossed broomsticks and a winged Golden Snitch.
The back of the tickets read in gold foil text: VIP Box - Section A - Front Row.
"Not bad."
Jerry placed the tickets next to his pillow.
A radiant smile bloomed on Hermione's face.
Then she noticed Catherine, who was still lying on the bed.
Catherine was glaring at Hermione with extremely unfriendly eyes.
Her cat ears were flattened, the fur on her tail puffed up, and her green eyes were filled with territorial instinct.
"Granger."
Catherine called Hermione by her last name.
"Catherine."
Hermione called Catherine by her first name.
The two women stared at each other for two seconds.
A subtle smell of gunpowder filled the air.
Jerry looked at Catherine, then at Hermione.
"That's enough."
He leaned against the pillows, swinging his short legs.
"Catherine was just telling me she wants to participate in club activities too. Hermione, you came at the perfect time; you're in charge of club affairs, arrange something for her."
Hermione's attention immediately shifted from Catherine to business.
"Participate in club activities? No problem. There's a discussion meeting on optimizing the Quidditch souvenir production line next Monday; if Catherine has time, she can—"
"I'm not talking about that kind of activity."
Catherine interrupted Hermione.
Her cat ears perked up, a sly gleam flashing in her green eyes.
"I'm talking about—club activities."
She deliberately emphasized the words "club activities."
Hermione blushed.
She knew all too well what "club activities" referred to in certain contexts.
"That... that requires Jerry's personal approval..." Hermione's voice grew small.
"My little pervert Master has already approved it." Catherine's tail swished smugly.
Hermione looked at Jerry.
Jerry nodded.
Hermione's face grew even redder.
Seizing the moment while Hermione was still dazed, Catherine suddenly sprang up from the bed.
Her movements were as fast as a real cat hunting.
She reached out with both hands and grabbed Hermione's wrists directly.
"Ah!"
Hermione let out a cry of alarm.
Catherine gave a forceful yank.
Hermione lost her balance completely, falling forward.
Catherine used the momentum to pull and drag Hermione onto the bed.
Thud.
Hermione's back slammed heavily onto the soft mattress, bouncing twice before settling.
Her brown ponytail came undone, curls spreading across the grey bedsheets.
The hem of her school skirt flipped up from the movement, revealing the fair skin of her upper thighs just above the tops of her white thigh-high socks.
"C-Catherine! What are you doing!"
Hermione struggled to get up, but Catherine had already rolled over and mounted her.
The catgirl's knees straddled Hermione's waist, her buttocks resting on Hermione's lower abdomen.
Her weight pinned Hermione down, rendering the petite little witch completely immobile.
Catherine looked down from her vantage point at Hermione beneath her.
Her green cat eyes held the glint unique to a predator toying with its prey.
"Granger~"
She called Hermione's surname in that cloyingly sweet tone.
"You didn't participate in the spy's dormitory earlier~"
Hermione's face flushed crimson.
"I-I don't do that kind of thing—"
"So we have to make up for it now~"
Catherine reached for the collar of her own shirt.
Her fingers hooked the third button and gave a light flick.
Pop.
The button popped open.
Followed by the fourth.
Pop.
The fifth.
Pop.
The front of the white shirt was completely thrown open.
Two massive, snow-white orbs sprang free from the fabric's restraint, drooping slightly due to gravity but still maintaining incredibly full hemispherical shapes.
The skin of the breasts was so fair it was nearly transparent, revealing the blue veins beneath the surface.
Given Catherine's leaning posture, the sheer size of those breasts hung directly over Hermione's face.
The two heavy white orbs of flesh looked like two satellites about to crash, hovering less than ten centimeters from Hermione's face.
Hermione's eyes widened.
Her field of vision was completely dominated by the two snow-white, soft fleshy orbs.
Catherine's breasts were so large that from this angle, Hermione could see almost nothing else—only endless white and those two pink nipples.
"Lick~"
Catherine's voice drifted down from above her breasts.
"Catherine! I—"
"My little pervert Master approved the club activity~ Aren't you going to participate, Granger?"
Catherine's tail swished, her green cat eyes looking down at Hermione past her own breasts.
"Or~ do you want the little pervert Master to invite you personally, Granger?"
Hermione's gaze involuntarily drifted toward Jerry sitting at the head of the bed.
Jerry sat cross-legged next to his pillow, his short legs crossed, his large grey eyes watching the two of them with a flat expression, as if watching two cats playing.
He made no move to stop Catherine's actions.
Hermione swallowed hard.
Catherine seized this moment of hesitation.
Her waist sank down, and the two massive orbs dropped directly onto Hermione's face.
"Mmph—!"
Hermione's face was completely buried by Catherine's breasts.
The soft, warm orbs of flesh, carrying the catgirl's unique milky scent, squeezed her features from all directions.
Her nose was buried in the cleavage between the two breasts, and her lips were pressed tightly against the outer curve of one of them.
That milky scent became overwhelmingly intense at this zero-distance contact.
Hermione's mind grew hazy under this dual assault of smell and touch.
"Mmh... mmh..."
Her lips parted involuntarily.
The tip of her tongue poked out.
It touched the extremely delicate skin on the surface of Catherine's breast.
Slurp.
An incredibly faint, wet sound of the tongue contacting skin.
Catherine's body gave a shiver.
"Mmh~ yes~ just like that~"
Her voice became even sweeter, her cat ears folding backward—her instinctive reaction when she felt pleasure.
The tip of Hermione's tongue moved slowly over the surface of Catherine's breast.
Slurp... slurp...
Sliding from the outer curve inward toward the cleavage.
The saliva carried by the flat of her tongue left a thin, glistening wet trail on the fair breast.
Catherine used her hand to lift her left breast slightly, adjusting the angle so that the pink nipple aimed right at Hermione's lips.
"Here~ lick here~"
The tip of Hermione's tongue touched that erect pink nub of flesh.
Slurp.
Catherine's body instantly went rigid.
"Ah~ mmh~"
A moan with a long, drawn-out trailing note spilled from her throat.
Her cat ears trembled violently, and her tail suddenly puffed into a ball of fur, swishing frantically in the air.
Hermione was stimulated by that moan.
Her tongue began to lick the nipple more actively.
The flat of her tongue circled the nipple, and the tip poked at the indentation at its peak.
Slurp. Squelch. Slurp.
The wet sounds of licking echoed in the quiet dormitory.
"Mmh~ mmh~ Granger~ your tongue is so good~"
Catherine's waist began to involuntarily sway back and forth, her buttocks grinding against Hermione's lower abdomen.
The hem of the grey pleated skirt flipped up and down with her movements, revealing white cotton panties printed with cat paws underneath.
A small, dark wet patch had already appeared at the center front of the panties.
Squish.
The sound of fabric rubbing against a wet private area.
Catherine released her left hand and switched to the right breast.
She pressed that equally massive orb toward Hermione's lips.
"This side too~"
Hermione's lips parted, taking the right pink nipple into her mouth.
"Mmh..."
She began to suck.
Suck. Suck.
The sound of sucking mixed with the sound of licking, turning into an even denser, more lewd rhythm.
Catherine's moans grew louder and louder.
The amplitude of her buttocks grinding against Hermione's lower abdomen increased.
Those cat-paw print panties were now completely soaked, the transparent liquid seeping through the edges of the underwear and dampening the waist area of Hermione's school skirt.
"Ah~ little pervert Master~ Granger is so good at licking~"
Catherine turned her head, her green cat eyes looking at Jerry sitting at the head of the bed.
Jerry was still sitting cross-legged.
But at the crotch of his sweatpants, a massive tent had now pitched high.
Under the stimulation of the wet sounds and moans from the two women, that thing had fully awakened.
The thick shaft stretched the fabric of the sweatpants to the limit, the outline of the head so clear that the curve of the coronal sulcus could be seen through the cloth.
Catherine stared at that tent, her green eyes burning with crazed desire.
"Little pervert Master~ I want it~"
Her tail swayed frantically in the air.
Hermione's mouth was still clamped on Catherine's nipple, making suck-suck wet sounds.
The corner of her eye also caught that terrifying bulge at Jerry's crotch.
Her breathing became even more ragged.
Saliva overflowed from the gap between her mouth and the nipple, slowly trailing down the outside of Catherine's snowy-white breast, pooling into a small, transparent puddle in the crease between the breast and the ribcage.
"Mmh~ ah~ mmh~"
Catherine's body grew softer and softer.
Her posture sank lower and lower, until the two massive orbs, now licked wet by Hermione, pressed entirely onto Hermione's face.
Hermione's world was completely swallowed by white softness and the rich scent of milk.
Her tongue roved frantically back and forth between Catherine's breasts, licking the left, sucking the right.
Her hands also unknowingly reached up, gripping from both sides those massive orbs that her palms could not possibly cover entirely, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh and kneading hard.
Slurp. Suck. Slurp. Suck.
The wet sounds grew denser and denser.
Catherine's moans soared higher and higher.
Jerry sat to the side, watching it all.
His short legs swung.
The thing inside his pants swelled another size larger.
"Enough."
He spoke.
Catherine and Hermione stopped their actions simultaneously.
Pop.
When Hermione's lips separated from Catherine's nipple, a crisp sound of suction breaking rang out, and a transparent thread of saliva stretched between them before finally snapping.
Catherine rolled off Hermione, lying on her side on the bed.
The two massive, saliva-slicked orbs bunched together on one side due to her posture, the pink nipples looking red and shiny from the moisture.
Hermione lay on the bed, her chest heaving violently, her cheeks flushed crimson, her lips and chin coated in her own saliva.
Both of them looked at Jerry at the head of the bed.
Jerry sat cross-legged, the tent in his sweatpants standing tall.
He looked down at that tent.
Then he looked up at the two hazy-eyed women.
"About Quidditch."
He looked at Hermione.
"Next Saturday, right?"
It took Hermione a great deal of effort to switch her brain back from that chaotic state.
"Right... right. Next Saturday. Ten in the morning."
Her voice was hoarse, her throat still carrying the milky scent from Catherine's breasts.
"How are the products coming along?"
"The first batch of orders has already been sent to the Tyranid Mother Bug... we expect the first finished products within three days..."
As Hermione answered, she couldn't control herself from stealing glances at the crotch of Jerry's pants.
Catherine lay beside her, her green cat eyes also staring fixedly at that tent.
The tip of her tail wrapped around Hermione's wrist and gave it a gentle tug.
Hermione turned her head to look at Catherine.
An incredibly sly smile hooked the corner of Catherine's mouth.
In her green cat eyes, a clear subtext was written—
Together?
Hermione bit her lower lip.
Catherine's tail tightened a loop, wrapping even firmer.
"Little pervert Master~"
Catherine turned back to Jerry, her voice so sweet it was practically dripping honey.
"Granger says she wants to participate in club activities too~"
"I didn't say that!" Hermione's face flushed tomato-red.
"Your body said it~"
Catherine pointed at the large, wet stain on Hermione's school skirt, soaked by Catherine's own love juice.
Hermione looked down at her skirt, then suddenly covered her face with both hands.
Jerry looked at them.
His short legs swung.
"Let's finish talking about Quidditch first."
Both women quieted down simultaneously.
Catherine's cat ears drooped slightly, and she gave a displeased "meow."
But she obediently closed her mouth.
Club activities could wait.
The little pervert Master's orders could not.