Harry Potter and The Acts of Betrayal
Chapter Nine – Back to School
“Congratulations Harry. Welcome to the family, you as well Hermione.”
“Come on.” Daphne grabbed his and Hermione’s hand and started pulling them toward the door. “Bye Daddy. Tell Mum I love her.”
“So,” said Lady Black. “It’s 4 in the after noon. What should we do now?”
“Dinner?” Harry asked. “Then we can discuss how we’re going to deal with each other and face Hogwarts.”
When they reached the apparition point, Dumbledore’s voice rang out. “Miss Granger!”
“I don’t know any Miss Granger, do you Lady Black?”
“Can’t say that I do, Lady Potter.”
The three teens were gone, leaving behind an angry Albus Dumbledore, and a small crowd of rubber neckers. Also two reporters.
“Wow.” Harry didn’t know much about women’s fashion, but these outfits caused blood flow problems.
“Well, he’s eloquent.” Hermione stood with her hands on her hips.
“Would a wolf-whistle have killed you?”
“I’m not really a wolf-whistle kind of guy Daphne. “ Harry concentrated on trying not to think about that night. “I’m still trying to figure out how I ended up with two beautiful women.” Yeah that was smooth.
That got him odd looks from both of his… wives. This was going to take some getting used to.
“We can make him squirm later” Hermione said. “I’m hungry, let’s go eat.”
“I’ve never eaten at a Muggle restaurant before. Anything special I should know?”
“Not really, it just takes longer.” Hermione explained, “Everything has to be prepared after it’s ordered.”
“So, what are you ladies in the mood for? Chinese? Italian? Indian? Thai?”
“What are those?”
Hermione and Harry shared a look, it was easy to forget just how isolated the Wizarding population was.
“They are styles of cooking, from China, Italy, India, and Thailand.”
“I’ve never tried any of them.”
“How about Italian?” Hermione suggested. “We can each get something different and share off each other’s plates.”
Harry hated doing that. He wanted what he ordered, but he had learned over the last month that if you went out to eat with Hermione she ended up sharing off your plate whether you agreed or not. After their second meal out together, he had decided that it was a small price to pay for her company.
“That was amazing.” Daphne sat back from the table. “I never knew that there were so many flavors. We’ve got to do this again!”
Harry was a bit surprised at how much she could eat; she had plowed through that ravioli plate like a starving lumberjack. For some reason he had been expecting Daphne to eat like a bird.
‘If you want surprising flavors Daphne, next time we’ll try Indian.”
“Ooh, I love Indian. A nice curry is to die for.” Hermione got a dreamy look on her face while spearing the last of Harry’s meatballs with her fork. “Why don’t we go dancing? There’s a club in the hotel, it would be fun.”
“Dancing? I love to dance, but wouldn’t it look odd with there being three of us? What would people think?”
“That I’m the luckiest guy on the planet. If you ladies want to dance, it sounds good to me.” Harry also hated dancing, but again, a small price to pay for the company.
Justin Finch-Fletchly and Ernie MacMillan entered the club with Justin’s girlfriend and her cousin, neither of the girls knew of magic beyond the attraction that the two men radiated. Over the last two summers, Justin had been teaching Ernie to pass as a Muggle. Their reasoning was simple, there were a lot more Muggle girls. They were celebrating Justin’s new BMW with a drive about town, when the girls spotted the marquee announcing the dance club in the hotel lounge. Knowing that accommodating men are rewarded men; they changed plans and stopped to dance for a while. The foursome found a table, and the girls left to powder whatever women feel the need to powder in groups at a club.
“You feel that Ern?”
“Bloody hell yes. There is a very powerful someone here. It feels like Dumbledore, but different.”
“Who ever it is he’s… Sweet Merlin, is that Potter on the dance floor? He’s with two women!”
“You’re right, it is. Is that Granger? Damn, she cleans up nice.”
“Wait, that’s the Ice Queen with them. Potter and Granger with a Slytherin? What the hell?” They watched in amazement when Daphne kissed Harry deeply, then Hermione did the same.
The two Hufflepuffs shared a look. That was different.
“I got an Owl from Dumbledore earlier in the month saying that Potter and Granger will missing and in danger, and that if I saw them I should inform him immediately.”
“I got the same Owl Justin. He doesn’t seem to be in all that much danger to me. It seems to me that the old man is just a little too interested in Harry’s love life.”
“It is Harry that’s radiating magic like that?”
The girls came back to the table, the four were there for three hours, dancing and drinking and having a good time. Arguing that it wasn’t save to drive any longer, Justin got them a suite in the hotel, where the two ‘puffs lost all thought of Harry Potter in the arms of two affectionate women.
The lift to the 9th floor was just too damned slow. A deep burning passion for Daphne had been building in him since just after they had executed the contract. He clung to Hermione as if she were a lifeline. Several times during their evening, he had seen her staring at him oddly, until sometime after the second round of drinks when a sudden realization spread across her face. She would not tell him what she had figured out, which was odd unto it’s self.
Dancing with Daphne was very different from Dancing with Hermione. She molded herself to him, and he could feel her nipples pressing against his chest when they danced. When they were sitting at their table in a dark corner of the club, she had taken his hand and guided it under her skirt to her sex.
“Touch me Harry.” She whispered before drawing him into a deep kiss. This was much too much like the stories in one of Dean’s Muggle magazines. He’d always assumed that those stories were just so much thestral shit, but this was happening.
That had been enough for Hermione; she had insisted that it was time to go. She led them to a (thankfully empty) lift and was guiding them to the suite. Hermione found that she was glad she had researched marriage contracts. This reaction was an extreme one, with both Harry and Daphne reacting out of character, but a heightened sexual response was predicted in most marriage contracts due to magics in place to force consummation as soon as possible.
Daphne had told her of growing power of Harry’s magic. It was not focus on her, but even she was beginning to feel it. In Salem, the power level test on Harry had indicated he was ‘blocked’. At first, she dismissed that as absurd. Harry was one of the most powerful wizards in his age group, but now, with what she felt in his presence AND how Daphne was reacting to him led her to believe that when exposed to the Daphne’s magic, Harry had somehow broken through the blockage, releasing his potential. Of the three of them only Hermione had the presence of mind to open the door to their suite.
Hermione pried Daphne from Harry’s grasp.
“Go, get ready for him.”
“I’m ready” the Slytherin growled.
Hermione took Daphne’s head in her hands, staring her in the eye. “Remember what you told me. Is this how you want to remember your first night together?”
Daphne’s eyes cleared, her breathing calmed a bit. She broke away from Hermione and kissed Harry hard. “Give me 5 minutes.”
Harry watched her go, nodding dully.
“You.” Harry turned his attention to Hermione. “Go, shower, and brush your teeth. Put on deodorant.” She ran her hand across his chin. “Shave.”
Harry nodded dully again, staring at the door the Daphne had disappeared behind before going to the other bedroom of the suite to do as he had been instructed. 4 minutes 24 seconds later, he rushed toward the door to Daphne dressed in a hastily belted dressing gown. Hermione was standing in front of the door.
“Stop.” She planted her hand in the middle of his chest. “Harry listen to me. This is her first time. Ron hurt me badly the first time; and only the potion that kept me going. You two are under something similar. Don’t you hurt her. You were gentle with me, but you weren’t in this state with me. Think about what you are doing.”
“Thank you Hermione. Thank you for putting up with me.”
She watched as he went through the door, and then went to her own bed. She needed to cry a little bit.
Hermione lay in the bed, trying unsuccessfully to not think about what was happening in the next room. She and Harry had spent 5 nights together, making love each night except the night before when he found he could not concentrate on anything except Daphne. Hermione had been expecting that to happen, but it still hurt. Her research had led her to expect his reaction the previous night as well as how they were responding to each other now. This expectation was no help with the anger that burned inside of her upon hearing the happy sounds coming from Daphne’s bed. Harry had evidently listened to her.
Her mind drifted back to the conversation Daphne and she had shared while Harry was taking his seats on the Wizengamot:
They had been discussing nonsense things, school, classes, favorite meals in the Great Hall, when Daphne asked the question she had been leading up to:
“Is Harry gentle?”
Hermione had been startled by that question. “He’s never struck me if that’s what you mean.”
“No, I mean is he a gentle lover?” The Slytherin blushed. “I’ve never done anything beyond kissing, I mean I think I know what goes where, but…
“Harry is a most gentle lover. He will worry far more about you and how you are feeling than what he wants.”
“His magic, it’s just so… so… powerful. It’s always with me, surrounding me, protecting me, it’s got me so… aroused. It started the day we first agreed to continue. His magic then hadn’t felt any different than it did when we were in school, very powerful, but nothing in the extreme. But it started to build, until it was all I could think about. When I sleep, I dream of him. I wake up touching myself.” Her blush deepened. “I barely know him, this is driving me insane. The books say that the urgency will die down in a couple of months, but I don’t know if I can take it that long.”
“I’ve researched it as well, and what I found agrees with what you describe. You don’t have to worry about Harry, he would never hurt you.”
“I’ve had my wedding night planned out since I was old enough to know what it was all about. Is it wrong to want romance when starting a contract?”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting what you want Daphne.”
“What about you? The culture you come from doesn’t recognize polygamy, what is this doing to you?”
“I won’t lie to you. I hate this. When he goes to you, I think I’m going to cry, but Harry and I came together knowing that you would be part of us. We will have to learn to deal with it, together.”
“Will you be there with us? Will you be wanting me there when he’s with you?”
The raven-haired girl closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank Morgana, I think I was more worried about that than…”
Harry found Daphne lying on the bed in a white silk robe. She wet her lips when she saw him. His control slipping away, Harry lay next to her, his hands exploring her body, gently opening the robe to expose her flesh. Her hands opened his robe and her gentle fingers traced the scars on his body.
“You must think I’m some kind of slut.”
Harry lifted his mouth from the ear lobe he was nibbling. “Don’t be silly. Do you honestly think I can’t feel the compulsion as well?” He settled back down kissing her neck. “We each agreed to the contract for our own reasons.” He reached around her, cupping her butt in his hand and rolled her on top of himself, maximizing skin-to-skin contact. “Now our magic is pushing us together trying to make more magic. You are driving me crazy.”
Daphne ground her pelvis against him, and took his erection in her hand. “Are you going to take me?”
He kissed her. “No, I would never take anything from you. We are going to make love.”
Daphne could feel his heart pounding against her chest, as she continued to grind against him seeking release. “I can’t wait anymore. Love me… I’ve never done this. Please don’t hurt me.”
Harry positioned her so that she was kneeling above him, and placed himself at her opening. “You’re controlling this, go as fast or as slow as you want, if it hurts, just back off… I’ll just be here, trying not to move until you want me to.”
Daphne began to move on him, sinking down until she felt him against her hymen, then easing back, his hands exploring her body as she moved above him. Finally, she allowed herself to push back far enough that the membrane tore. She collapsed upon him panting. The pain took her breath away. She lay atop of him, impaled on him until she got her breath back and began to move again. Slowly at first, then faster as the passion grew. She found herself wondering if this was true physical passion or the effects of their shared magic. When his hands found her breasts she discovered that she didn’t care.
The Daily Prophet:
BOY WHO LIVED: Dumbledore a Thief
Says Leader of the Light and Hogwarts Headmaster Uses Women in attempt to control him
- Ministry of Magic
- Meric Altern reporting:
In an unprecedented confrontation before the annual seating of the Wizengamot Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Headmaster confronted Harry Potter also known as the Boy Who Lived, and attempted to prevent him from taking his seats on the Legislative Branch of Wizarding Britain.
This public disagreement between two of the Leaders of Light magic shocked this reporter and had similar effects on other passerby’s. Potter accused his Headmaster of being a Thief, asking if the Headmaster had “accounted for the monies you have withdrawn from my vaults yet?” Dumbledore responded that Potter needed to be reminded of his place, and went on to forbid the Chosen One from taking his seats on the Wizengamot and threatened to return him to his Muggle Relative’s home despite the fact that Potter had reached his majority on July 31st.
Lord Potter was seen leaving the Ministry building later that day in the company of long time gal pal Hermione Granger (17) and classmate Daphne Greengrass (17). Owls requesting interviews returned unopened.
Harry Potter Assumes Family Seats on Wizengamot
By Luna Lovegood staff reporter
Ministry Of Magic – London.
Harry Potter, also known as The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, and #2 in his year for Hogwarts All House tasty bum competition, formally assumed his seats on the Wizengamot, becoming the first Lord Potter in 24 years and the first Lord Black in 14. Potter (17) was confronted by Albus Dumbledore prior to his seating when the elder Wizard forbid The Chosen One from assuming his rightful seats.
In what seems to be an odd confrontation between headmaster and adult student on summer holiday, the headmaster directed Harry to: “You will remain in my office and I will return you to your Aunt’s home after this meeting.” Potter responded that the Headmaster “may have missed it Headmaster, but I have reached my majority. What ever say you may have had in my life is over. I am an adult, and I chose to ignore your commands.” This exchange left the Elder Wizard extremely angry; many other words were exchanged ending with Potter saying: “I am heir to two different noble houses. The hereditary seats became available to me when I became 17. My status in school is not addressed by law or custom.” Potter continued: “Your interference in my life is over Headmaster. I am not your servant; I am not bound to you. Keep your whores away from me Pimp.”
It is unclear what Potter meant by the comment about the Headmaster’s Whores, but it is quite clear that there is trouble in store for the light side of magic.
Having assumed his ancestral seats of government, rumors are rife that Harry Potter may take not one, but two wives one for both lines. Potter, a permanent fixture in the Witch Weekly Top Five Eligible Bachelor Wizards Lists, may have already made his choices. If so this reporter offers her congratulations to the lucky witches. If the rumors are untrue, this reporter reminds Lord Black-Potter that she will meet him at school…
Molly Weasley knew exactly who Harry was referring to when he mentioned the Headmaster’s whores. How dare that insignificant nothing speak that way of her son and daughter? When they were reintroduced to the thrall, they would both be punished for this insult.
Ginny Weasley also read the Prophet, Hermione was still with Harry. That surprised her. She had expected Harry to get Hermione away from the Wizarding world with her parents, then return. To her, she hoped, to Hogwarts at very least. Once there he WOULD be hers.
However, Hermione was still in the picture. Had Ron taught her too well? Was she giving Harry what Molly would not allow Ginny to offer?
It would be too bad if Hermione had an accident…
“Good Morning Hermione.”
She would not look at him.
“Was she better than me?”
The bushy haired witch looked up, her eyes glittering with tears waiting to fall. “You kept at it until 4am. 6 hours Harry. Was she better than me?”
Harry tried to take her into his arms, but she would have none of it.
“Don’t touch me. I have researched the magic behind the marriage contracts. It gives the couple and all consuming need to consummate the union. Once. On rare occasions twice. I heard you, felt you, reach orgasm 4 times Harry. So I ask you again Harry, is she better than I am? What is she doing that I don’t ?”
“You aren’t thinking clearly Hermione.” Daphne sat down on the sofa next to her cowife. “Yes usually the marriage is consummated once. You know as well as I do that Harry is far from usual. We were both under the compulsion of his magic last night, from the second you sent him to me until we both passed out from exhaustion.” She looked to Harry. “I don’t understand why, but you are enormously more powerful than you were last year.” Again fixing Hermione in her gaze. “I still feel the compulsion, it’s building again. That isn’t supposed to happen. For the next three or four months we are supposed to crave each other’s touch, but is isn’t supposed to be… this.”
“When Harry was tested in Salem, the apparatus indicated that his magic was blocked.” Hermione was embarrassed by her reaction to the others. I haven’t had a chance to research exactly what that meant, but I have noticed that his increase in power coincided with your initial bonding.”
“Blocked? That’s not possible. Harry was entirely too powerful to have been blocked. When someone’s magic is blocked, they only have access to 10 percent of their magic, if Harry were blocked that would mean…”
“Sweet Merlin. That would explain why he’s been affecting you so much.”
“We need to perform a bonding ritual.”
“What’s a bonding ritual?”
“It will link the three of us Harry. It’s our only way out of the jealousy I’m feeling.”
“We’re feeling Hermione. Just the thought of you with him tonight is making me angry. We need to bond.”
“Ok, you two geniuses are going to have to slow down and explain things to me. Use small words. My magic was blocked? By who? Voldemort?”
“Unlikely.” Said Daphne. “He was looking to kill you, not cripple you.”
“Not your parents either, Sirius and Remus always told stories about how proud your parents were of your bursts of powerful accidental magic.” Hermione furrowed her brow. “That only leaves Dumbledore.”
“Putting a restrictor on his weapon until he ‘gave me the power’ to defeat Voldemort. Wonderful. That makes sense in his control freak world I guess. Ok, what will this bonding ritual do?”
It will link us body and soul. Each of us will know what the others think, how they feel, and we would share our magic.”
“So each of you would be able to use my magic as well as your own?”
“Yes, and you would be able to draw on ours if you needed it.”
Harry nodded. “What do we need for this ritual?”
The three of them sat on the floor in a circle, three goblets sat on the floor before them. Hermione dipped a finger in the goblet and traced the rune for magic on Harry’s forehead. Harry did the same, tracing the rune for the soul on Daphne’s. Daphne repeated the action tracing the rune for the mind on Hermione’s forehead. The runes each glowed a vibrant blue. The trio each picked up a goblet, and incanted in unison: “Communico anima” and sipped at the potion.
Each passed their goblet to their left and incanted: “Communico acies” and sipped at the potion, before again passing the goblet to their left.
Finally they incanted “Communico magicus” and drained the goblets. The Blue aura of the runes expanded to their whole bodies, then projected into the middle of their circle, fusing in to a single mass of light, then returned to their bodies, then to the runes, which slowly faded.
Drained they each slumped to the floor. With the last of his strength Harry pulled the women to him and held them, one on each side as they all lost consciousness.
He opened his eyes to find Daphne looking very concerned. She was very pretty when she was concerned.
“Thank you Harry,” her voice was in his head. “You aren’t too hard to look at either.”
“Either I’ve gone crazy, or it worked.”
“Of course it worked” Hermione huffed in his head. “Since when do Daphne and I make mistakes? Though that doesn’t discount your being crazy in the slightest.” The tiniest bit of humor crept into their connection. “By the way, you are a disgusting pervert. Daphne and I have been treated to your fractured psyche producing pornographic fantasies about us while simultaneously arguing about the reality of the situations, ignoring yourself, condemning your self to hell for it?”
“Could be worse you know… What if it was about Draco?”
“Oh Bloody Hell Harry!” the two witches spoke aloud, and oddly in unison. It gave them both pause.
“That was odd.” Hermione said.
“Are we synchronizing? Or is the bond closer because we’re both women?”
“Maybe it’s because we were both disgusted by the thought of a naked Draco?”
Daphne shuddered. “Please, don’t say that. I’ve seen a naked Draco. That little sleaze came on to me first year. He informed me that he had ‘chosen’ me for the honor of giving him his first blow job.” She smiled a little at the memory. “I kicked him hard. He sent Crabbe and Goyle after me; they roughed me up pretty good, until Tracy hexed them both. The pair of them are still frightened of her.”
Neville was sitting in the usual carriage, the last compartment in the last carriage. True to his word, Harry was not on the train, neither was Hermione, and he assumed Daphne … Black. That was going to take some getting used to. He was going to make sure to be on the side of the Gryffindor table facing the Head table. It should be an entertaining show.
Neville still could not believe that Hannah Abbott was actually willing to spend time with him. In his minds eye he still saw himself as the pudgy boy who somehow accidentally got sorted into Gryffindor. He did not see the confident young man he had become. Fortunately, Hannah DID see him as he now was, and had high hopes for what he might become. Consequently instead of the last compartment in the last carriage holding the Golden Trio, assorted other Gryffindors and Luna Lovegood, it was a mix of Griffs, Puffs, and Luna Lovegood.
“Neville, where’s Harry?” asked Hannah as the Express pulled out of platform 9 ¾. “I got an Owl post saying that he and Hermione were missing and in danger at he beginning of August. Then the Prophet said he was in some kind of confrontation with Dumbledore at the Seating Ceremony. Has he contacted you?”
“Sorry Hannah, not my place to say, but Harry’s ok, so is Hermione. I would suggest that everyone get a good seat at he feast. One with a good view of the Head table.”
“Come on Nev, spill” interjected Ernie. “Justin and I saw Harry and Hermione at a Muggle Dance club; they were with Daphne Greengrass of all people. The three of them were VERY friendly. What’s more magic was just POURING off Harry, even more intensely than when he got pissed at Umbitch fifth year in the Room of Requirements and shattered every piece of glass in the castle. He wasn’t angry at that club, far from it.”
“Harry was happy? Good.” Commented Luna from behind her issue of the Quibbler
“Well, I don’t know about ‘happy’.” Justin said. “It was more like he was progressively becoming more and more… I don’t know… Horny. Daphne was just hanging off him, to a lesser degree, so was Hermione. I don’t think…”
They never found out what Justin thought, the door to the compartment slid open with a thunk. Draco Malfoy and his bookends entered.
“So, where’s Scarhead and the mudblood Longbottom?”
“They said something about stomping a ferret Bad Faith, oh Hi Harry.”
Malfoy spun to look where Neville indicated and saw… nothing.
Everyone in the compartment laughed.
“Who do you think you’re playing with Blood traitor?”
“Bad Faith, my family was a noble house when yours was still selling their wives, sisters, and mother’s virtues for drink. How is your mother anyway? Your father still using her to ensure his cellars are topped off?”
Furious Malfoy whipped out his wand, and found himself facing six.
“Draco, you are a pathetic dueler who loses even when you cheat.” Susan Bones spoke up. “We on the other hand have been trained by Harry Potter, the man who has consistently defeated your dark lord. Now we aren’t in Harry’s league, but we are certainly above yours. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Malfoy slowly backed out of the carriage.
“Well said Susan.”
“Thank you Ernie. I just hope Harry shows up and stomps on him.”
The Sorting was finished, the new students distributed to their new houses. Minerva McGonagall has signaled for silence so that the Headmaster could say his traditional ‘few words’
Dumbledore stood from his new chair. Where is Potter? I thought sure that Granger would bring him back, since I know they’re in the country…
He drew in breath for his witty offering when the huge double doors to the Great Hall suddenly slammed open. Harry Potter strode in, flanked on either side by Hermione Granger and Daphne Greengrass, all three were clad in robes of Black Acromantula silk. Potter’s robes bore the crests of the Potter and Black families. Dumbledore paled when he saw the crests on the robes of the two women. He wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t dare.
“Sorry we’re late Head Master.” Potter said in a conversational tone that carried throughout the Great Hall. “My wives and I were unavoidably delayed.”