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Chapter 11 – Cleaning House

The members of the press went scurrying out of the great hall to file stories and speculations, all save one. Rita Skeeter sashayed over to the Gryffindor table.

“Are all accounts balanced now?” she asked Hermione.

“Yes they are, but if you want to kick start your new career as a candid journalist you might want to consider interviewing Harry. Get the real story, the whole story - the exclusive story.”

“Tempting, dear, but in the current political climate I don’t know who would publish it.”

“Does it mater, Ms. Skeeter?” Harry asked. “As long as it gets published.”

“All things considered,” Millicent added, “I think the political landscape is about to change.”

Harry warmed to see Millie overcoming her ingrained shyness, smiled and said, “I’m going to kiss you all over, Love.”

Millie grinned and said, “Pack a lunch then, that’ll take a bit of time. . .”

Rita looked at Harry like a particularly succulent entree and said, “So, Harry, what are you doing this Hogsmeade weekend?”

Harry smiled and said, “I’m very busy on weekends, but I will make time for you, Rita.”

Professor McGonagall called from the exit, “Mister Potter, please come along, this investigation will need your sworn statement.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Hermione sidled over to Rita and said, “Wouldn’t you love to be a bug on the wall for that conversation?”

Rita shrugged and said, “Not worth it, if I get caught it means a very long stay in Chez Azkaban.”

“If you’re caught as an unregistered animagus, that is.”

Rita arched an eyebrow and asked, “What are you playing at?”

Hermione smirked as she pulled a parchment from her robes sealed by the office of the head of the DMLE. It was a certificate of registration for a beetle animagus. The beetle was described unflatteringly; stocky and garish but otherwise accurate.

“All it needs is your signature and you’re legal.”

Rita snatched the parchment and held it up to the light. Yes, it was authentic; she could make out the official watermark, seal and Madame Bones autograph. The only thing required to make the certificate binding was her own signature.

Hermione handed her a self-inking quill.

Rita paused before signing, “Why are you doing this?”

Hermione shrugged, “Because we need friends and allies – we have enough people working against us as it is.”

Rita thought of the price her memoirs would fetch if she could get the inside story on the fight to defeat he-who-must-not-be-named.

“A girl could get herself killed, buzzing around like that.” She said.

Hermione snorted, “You’ve risked that much for two columns and a by-line. What if, after the second task last year, Victor Krum had decided to squash that beetle he’d pulled out of my hair, rather than let it fly off?”

Rita shuddered.

“Besides, this time you’ll be one of the good guys, won’t that sell more books than the next collection of Me Myself and I articles?”

“One condition,” Rita said pen poised above the parchment.

“And that is?”

“I want you in the room with me when I negotiate any book deals.”

“Done!”

Rita signed.

)O(

Fudge and Umbridge were ushered into Pamona Sprout’s office near the kitchens. The aroma of freshly baked breads permeated the room.

“No wonder Hufflepuffs tend to put on weight, eh Kingsley?” Madame Bones chided Shacklebolt.

“Not all of us, Madame Director.” Kingsley retorted, then added, “I don’t recall seeing you in the Gym this week, boss.”

She smiled, liking Kingsley and his talent for turning one’s own words back on them. Her smile fell when he considered the mess before her in the Head’s office.

“I think this has gone far enough.” Fudge began to puff up like a toad preparing for battle.

“I would think, Minister that you would want to distance yourself from Madame Umbridge. Trying to bluster your way out of here on her behalf puts you in a garish and unflattering political light.” Kingsley advised.

Dumbledore and McGonagall came in, followed by Harry and Susan.

“Why are these children here?” Umbridge asked, haughtily.

“Mister Potter is here as one of your alleged victims, Madame Umbridge. Miss Bones is here in her capacity as my DMLE certified recorder. She often attends official proceedings observing what is said and done in the course of an investigation. Her pensive memory is uncanny in its detail.

“Susan, please begin recording.”

The auburn haired Hufflepuff nodded and walked to a corner where she could observe all the people in the room.

“Right, let’s get to the point then, shall we?” Amelia said, cracking her knuckles for emphasis.

“Madame Umbridge, Have you at any time used a blood quill as a form of punishment on under-aged students here at Hogwarts.”

“Well, I, that is to say, I . . .” she looked to Fudge for support but found none there. She finally said “I do not recall?”

Madame Bones did not appear surprised to hear what has become the cornered politico’s catch phrase.

“You do not recall. In light of your apparent loss of memory, will you submit willingly to interrogation by a Department of Magical Law Enforcement legellimens while under veritaserum?”

“No.”

“Very well, then while testimony and evidence is being compiled for your trial I have no recourse but to place you under arrest. You will be transported to a holding cell in Azkaban Prison until a trial date can be set. Don’t worry, the cell is very spacious – its last inhabitant was a half-giant.” The head of the DMLE gestured for Fudge’s minders to take her away.

“No! You can’t, no! Cornelius, Cornelius, tell them I was only following orders!” She attempted to pull her wand but found it plucked out of her hand by the Potter brat.

“You! This is all your fault! I never did anything to you that you didn’t deserve!”

“Are you sure you’re not related to the Dursley’s, my so-called Muggle family?”

She tried to slap him but he simply leaned back, avoiding the blow.

“The dementors should have had you, you little shite!”

“The dementors that you insisted couldn’t have been in Little Winging?”

Amelia Bones narrowed her eyes at the soon to be former undersecretary, “This bears further investigation. I think the Wizengamot can be persuaded, in light of your statement just now, to require you to take the veritaserum.

Umbridge screamed as the aurors, none too gently, escorted her out of the room.

“Professor Dumbledore, were you aware of Madame Umbridge’s activities.”

“I was told by my Deputy Headmistress that Madame Umbridge was, in her opinion, much too harsh in handing out punishments. When I brought my protestations to the Board of Governors I was referred to the ministry and when I complained to the Ministry I was told in no uncertain terms that I was not to interfere in any way with Profess, I mean, Madame Umbridge.”

“I assume you received this directive in writing?” Amelia asked, praying for some hard evidence.

The headmaster raised his left hand and caught the parchment that flew in from his living quarters.

“Impossible,” Fudge sputtered, “confidential ministry communiqués disincorporate once they’ve been read!”

“Then how fortunate for this investigation that I know a few preserving spells, eh, Cornelius?” Dumbledore said, handing the document to Madame Bones.

“Neither signed nor sealed but the watermark is unmistakable, it is from the office of the Minister of Magic. Further, I recognize the handwriting. This was written by Fudge’s hand.”

Amelia looked up from the parchment and said, “Cornelius, if I were you, I would go back to my office and take one last good look around. Then I would consider career options outside of the Ministry. Neither would I expect any sort of pension for many years of civil service . . .”

“Now see here, Bones!” the soon-to-be-ex-minister blustered.

“What I see, Fudge, is you, up to your neck in a sea of dragon shit and the tide’s coming in. Now get out of my sight!”

Fudge walked out of the office stiffly.

“Did you get all that, Rita?” Madame Bones asked of a speck in the far corner of the large room.

The beetle fluttered to the floor where a slightly disheveled Rita Skeeter regained her footing after a few moments.

“Yes, Madam Director. Would you like to review my story before I take it to the Prophet?”

“No, I don’t think I will. I’m going to trust you.”

Somehow the way in which the Director of the DMLE said “I’m going to trust you.” Clearly communicated “Fuck with me on this and they’ll never find your body. . .”

Amelia turned to the headmaster, “I’m not entirely satisfied with the way you’ve handled things at Hogwarts, Dumbledore. You, the supposed champion of light, have turned a blind eye to bigotry and intolerance – not the example I want my niece to emulate. I wonder if Beauxbatons will accept a transfer student in mid-term? Susan’s French is excellent and I trust Madame Maxime.”

Dumbledore stood looking as though he’d been slapped in the face with a freshly caught trout. The thought that any of the scions of English Magical society would abandon Hogwarts – even Phineas Nigellus, the most hated headmaster in the last half-millennium hadn’t seen pureblood families abandon Hogwarts!

“I think, Madame Director, that many people have learned hard lessons today. With your kind permission I shall retire to my office for some long overdue introspection.”

)O(

Millicent, Pansy, Tracy and Daphne returned to the Slytherin dungeons to drop off their morning books – they were supposed to have Double DADA but since their teacher had just been sacked they thought they could get in a little reading and relaxing. As they walked into the common room they were not surprised to see Professor Snape and the Slytherin boys – all of the upper years - in the common room. As the girls entered some of the boys moved in behind them blocking their exit.

“You will tell me the nature of your little sorority and you will tell me now. I would let the boys convince you but I find myself impatient for answers.” He nodded to Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott – apparently a pre-arranged signal to detain the girls. Draco took Pansy by the arms, which he twisted cruelly behind her back; Theo Nott bear hugged Tracy from behind pushing against her backside with his crotch as he did so. Vincent Crabbe caught Daphne in a choke hold and Greg Goyle just looked at Millicent and shrugged.

“Petrificus totalus, incarcerous!” Millie was petrified and bound with heavy ropes. Snape lowered his wand.

“Miss Parkinson, we can do this the easy way or we can do this my way. Which do you prefer?”

Draco laughed, nervously. Not sure how far his godfather was going to take this.

Pansy threw her head back hard breaking Malfoy’s nose, then shouted “Lord Slytherin, to us! Please, Lord Slytherin, your Vipera need you!”

“Shut it, Parkinson.” Snape sneered, “Do not presume to call on the founder, he is not at your beck and call - urk!”

Snape and the boys who had presumed to man-handle the girls suddenly found themselves unable to speak or move as a hooded figure strode into the center of the room.

In a voice that foreshadowed slow, excruciating death he whispered, “I am the Lord Slytherin, and these are my shield maidens, my beloved Vipera.”

Power flowed off the Wizard, power and something else, cold, immeasurable fury. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Nott moaned. Crabbe pissed himself. Goyle backpedaled and thanked all the gods that ever were that he had not laid a hand on any of the girls.

The Lord Slytherin, for no one doubted him, addressed all the males in the room.

“Too long has my house been the dumping ground for thuggish weak minded inbred bigots. A cleansing fire is coming to Slytherin, be found worthy or be gone - for no other house will have you.”

He stepped over to Snape and his bully-boys.

“As for you, all of you – there are no second chances. I cast you out of my house; you will no longer be tolerated in any Slytherin quarter of Hogwarts. If you’re not too inbred to learn another language perhaps Durmstrang will have you, I care not . . . BEGONE!”

Snape, Malfoy, Crabbe and Nott found themselves in a heap in the corridor leading to the dungeon. When they tried to re-enter the dungeon they found they couldn’t.

“What do we do, Professor Snape?” Nott whined.

“When my father hears about this . . .”

Draco’s tirade was cut short by the back of Snape’s hand. “No one bloody cares about your bloody father! We shall go first to the headmaster; he can get us back into our quarters. Then we’ll deal with this imposter who calls himself Lord Slytherin!”

“I can’t be expelled,” Draco nearly cried, “I just can’t!”

)O(

Back in the Slytherin common room Lord Slytherin embraced his ladies. The remaining boys were cowed as the rest of the Slytherin girls came up from their quarters where they had been ordered by their former head of house.

Glynda Newton, a pale raven-haired seventh year prefect asked, “What’s happened here?”

Pansy stepped up. “We’ve been cleaning house, starting with Snape and some of the thicker fifth years.”

Glynda indicated the green robed hooded man in the center of a group hug. “Is this our new head?”

Pansy bit her lip to keep from saying what was on her mind, settling for introductions, “Glynda, this is our Lord Slytherin.”

Glynda, trained all her life as a pure blood princess, executed a perfect curtsey, lowered her eyes and said “I am honored, milord.”

Lord Slytherin’s voice was a pleasant baritone as he said, “Well met, Miss Newton.”

Glynda looked up into the hood but could only see two luminous green eyes. “You wish to remain anonymous, milord?”

“It simplifies things, for now, Miss.”

Addressing the rest of the house, Lord Slytherin said, “These four, my ladies – my Vipera, made a pledge to themselves and to each other to bring honor back to our house. Ambitious does not mean evil. If you would see Slytherin great again you will accept their ideas and their attitudes so that our noble house will rise above its baser nature.”

Saying that Harry phased out of sight and re-appeared, elf fashion in Lady Helena’s apartments.

“How did it go?” Susan asked from the loveseat. She was wearing what had quickly become the uniform of their quarters, a diaphanous silk emerald green gown. Hers was a shorter version – mid thigh length. In Susan’s case it enhanced rather than concealed her soft globes and set off her auburn hair beautifully.

“As well as can be expected.” He said with a sigh, “We’ll see soon enough if my claim to the Lordship of Slytherin has any real teeth.”

“Come sit with me, milord.”

“Please, just Harry.”

She patted the cushion next to hers and he sat. Susan gently guided him down so that his head was on her lap, looking up past her assets to a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

“Just relax, Harry.”

She carefully removed his glasses, then ran long fingernails through his hair, calming him, soothing him while at the same time making him groan with pleasure.

“Oh I could get used to this, Suzie my love.”

“Anytime, Harry. Anytime at all.”

)O(

“Surely, Headmaster, you can overcome this enchantment – you’re the headmaster!” Severus Snape’s face had run the gamut of colors, red-faced rage, to bloodless white as he discovered that, while the potion’s classroom was a common area and therefore available to him, his office and the all-important potion’s storeroom were considered Slytherin domains.

)O(

Selene Sinestra rapped on Minerva’s door and entered – then gasped at what she saw. Her old, um, make that youthful colleague stood in the center of her quarters, clothes strewn about as though her rooms had been ransacked. She was holding a floor-length gown of midnight blue before her, frowning.

“Oh, thank the Goddess, Selene, I’m having a crisis here and I need your help.”

“What’s happened here, Minerva, did someone loose nifflers and Cornish pixies in your apartments as a prank?”

“No, I just started going through my wardrobe and realized that it’s too bloody old – all my clothing went out of fashion fifty years ago!”

Selene began to see – and she barely contained her snigger. “So, who is it, Minerva?”

“What, who?”

“He must be extraordinary. You’ve endured rejuvenation, apparently.”

Minnie nodded to confirm.

“And now you’re in a panic over your out-dated attire, so he’s young?”

Minnie nodded again.

“Powerful?”

“Oh, you have no idea!”

“Passionate?”

“All it takes is one look and I want to be on my back somewhere, feeling the weight of him as he, um . . .”

“I understand, truly, I recently entered into a relationship with someone who, how does he put it? Oh yes, “rocks my world”.”

“A muggle?” Minerva looked shocked, not at the idea itself, but at the thought of Selene Sinestra, or her twin sister, Sidra, purebloods to their magical cores entering into a relationship with a muggle.

“Not exactly, he’s a, well; the best word for it is a Magician, a mage in the old sense.”

“What is his talent?”

“Music and . . . you know.” Selene blushed.

“I think perhaps I do. May I have your word?”

“I’ll swear an oath if you need me to, Minerva.”

“It’s enough that you’re willing to.” Minnie took a deep breath, “I’m in love with a Warlock, in the old sense. I’m a member of his coven.”

“There’s more to it, isn’t there, Minerva?”

“Your word?”

“On my life and my magic. . .”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Selene shook her head, “I think, perhaps, I do . . . I will not divulge anything that I learn here today without Minerva McGonagall’s express permission, I so swear, so mote it be.”

“My Warlock will draw from the love of the ladies of his coven to defeat the terror that is Voldemort – it has been prophesized and I am vital to his success.”

“But the Potter boy . . .” then the full realization struck home, “Goddess, Minnie, you’d better be glad I did take that oath - a student, an under-aged student at that.”

“My Lord Potter is not under age, Selene. By the laws of the land he is fully emancipated and he’s something else.”

Selene’s eyebrows rose.

“He’s the Lord Slytherin, by right of conquest.”

Selene sat on Minerva’s clothing strewn desk.

“He’s the one who banished Snape and those boys from the Slytherin parts of the castle?”

“One and the same.”

Selene’s eyes narrowed, “You didn’t call me here to help you with your wardrobe.” It wasn’t a question.

“Actually I started worrying over my lack of appropriate atire after I sent for you – you always dress so nicely and, well, Lord Harry has mentioned that he would like to see me in some of your outfits, always so well cut - so stylish.”

“As flattering as it is that a young man appreciates my sense of fashion, I’m not available, as I said. Minnie, what did you call me for?”

“Slytherin needs a new head of house. As Deputy Headmistress I hope you will accept the position. I and the Lord Slytherin both believe that house will benefit from a woman’s touch.”

“We’ll need a new potion’s professor as well.” Selene said, tacitly accepting the position of Head of Slytherin House.

“Albus is working on that, I believe our Lord Slytherin will be of some help there as well.”

Selene Sinestra nodded, took a deep breath and hopped up from the desk, “Let’s see what we have to work with, here.”

Together they transfigured Minerva’s rather severe wardrobe into something much less so.

)O(

Harry woke with a little start, “I’m so sorry, Suzie, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that.”

Susan smiled and said, “Do you know what it means when you do that?”

“Um, I’m really, really tired?”

“No, it means you are at peace with me, and you trust me to watch over you while you’re at your most vulnerable.”

“I love you, Susan Bones.”

“And I’ll always love you, Harry Potter.”

“Is this the kissing part?”

“It’ll start off that way, I’m sure.” She stood and held out her hands, “c’mon to bed.”

“As my lady commands.”

When they entered the bedroom they were pleasantly surprised to see a beautifully nude Millicent Bulstrode stretched out on the bed one arm raised above her head the other resting between her thighs.

It was the most sensuous sight Harry had ever seen.

“I seem to remember you promising to “kiss her all over”.”

“Well, a promise is a promise. Now, where to begin?”

He flipped an imaginary coin and said, “Heads.”

Susan relieved him of his shirt and shoes and socks so it was a bare-chested Harry that began to gently kiss the top of Millie’s head. He kissed and caressed her hair, nibbled her earlobes when they came in range and planted light kisses on each of her eyes.

“If this is a dream I pity the poor fool who tries to wake me up.” She purred.

“If it’s a dream, Millie, then it’s a dream best shared.”

He brushed his lips across her nose, kissed each cheek then touched his lips to hers.

When their lips parted she sighed, “You can wake me up like that everyday!”

“For the rest of our lives, love.”

He took her hand in his and kissed fingers, palm, back of the hand before trailing kisses up her wrist and arm, shoulder and neck then working his way down the other. She lay on her back so he had unfettered access to her large, but not proportionally so, breasts. Each breast received equal attention.

“So one won’t be jealous of the other,” he explained.

Trailing kisses down her taught, flat belly he dipped his tongue into her very sensitive belly-button. She hissed as he intentionally bypassed her sex, which by now was radiating wet heat. He kissed and nipped his way down one leg and up the other, paying particular attention to the thin webs of skin between her toes. He worked his way up the inside of her legs alternating left and right until he got to the juncture of her legs. Millie’s sex wasn’t shaved but her pubic hair was very fine and soft. He wished he’d had a comb so that he could part her hair in the middle but made do with his finger tips.

Harry studied her sex. Puffy outer lips, glistening moist inner lips – her hymen perforated but still intact. Her most pronounced feature, her clitoris, throbbed, keeping time with her heartbeat. Unlike most clits hers didn’t recede completely into its sheath when she was stimulated, as she was now, but protruded slightly. When he licked the length of her opening from bottom to top, ending by latching onto her distended nub, she shrieked and inadvertently clenched the walls of her vagina. Her accumulated lubricating juices squired out, slick and warm.

Smiling, and more than a little proud that he’d been able to make Millie climax so demonstrably, Harry reached up with both hands and messaged her breasts as he simultaneously dipped his tongue back into her warm honey-pot. Oddly enough he knew this would calm her.

“Oh, Gawddess Harry!”

“You like, Millie?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Ready?”

“Beyond ready.”

Susan undid the fasteners on his trousers and pulled them off, again Harry was going “commando” – saving time.

He placed the bulbous head of his cock at her wet entrance and pushed so that just the head passed through her outer lips. At this point her membrane was stretched to near breaking. He leaned forward and lay on top of her, his mouth just below her ear.

“Millie, sweetheart, put your teeth on my shoulder, get ready to bite.”

“Won’t that hurt?”

“Depends on how hard you bite, it’s okay, this will probably hurt a bit, and I’d feel better if you took it out on my shoulder.”

By way of an answer she placed her teeth lightly on his left shoulder.

On a whim Millicent wrapped her legs around Harry locking her ankles at the small of his back – this forced her legs farther apart and allowed his cock to slide in, unencumbered by the remains of her hymen.

Rather than bite him she kissed his shoulder.

“Didn’t hurt a bit, Harry, now, feel free to move!”

He pushed so that their pubic bones pressed together, and then pulled so that he was nearly completely out before pushing in again. Out, in, out, in, a little grind and wiggle then repeat, again, and again and again.

One thing Harry had been anxious about was whether he’d be large enough to give Millie a decent ride. He needn’t have worried.

As Millie’s breathing became more and more ragged he slipped one hand down between them and placed two fingers along side her protruding clitoris – Millicent froze and pushed hard against Harry’s member just as he brought his fingers together to fondle her engorged clit.

Millie clamped on Harry’s cock, buried as deep as it could go, and the feeling was mutually explosive – Harry’s ejaculate mixed with Millicent’s copious fluids as they groaned in unison.

“I love you, Millicent Bulstrode.”

“I love you, Harry Potter.”

Susan smiled, Millicent was destroyed in the best way possible but Harry would be back up in no time and this time he’d last a bit longer.

It was good to be a witch in the Coven of the Four Houses.