FicWad

I found a store selling Harry Potter and I thought it would be a good thing to have. Turns out they were just selling the books, so I still do not own Harry Potter. Bugger.


A/N 1 The “rape” in this chapter is completely a matter of perspective. I don’t see it as rape at all but some people might, so I marked it.


A/N 2 Thanks again to everyone that reviewed. It’s been incredibly positive and for that I am grateful. Now, on with the show.



The Unexpected Result Of. . .



. . .Having the Veela “Pull”




Harry had managed to stop Gabby’s blatant semi-public masturbation by threatening her with refusing to do anything she asked of him for the rest of the day. She managed to look contrite.

“I can’t help it, Master,” she said plaintively. “The thought of you naked under that robe has me so aroused.”

Harry looked down as she pulled her hand away, and to his chagrin, saw that the evidence of her arousal was dripping from her cleft and running down her legs. She had in fact left a little trail of it back along their path. Filch would be furious; Harry just hoped that it could never be traced back to him. He briefly wondered if the whole no-one-notices-Gabrielle thing would prevent him from seeing it; he was probably worrying over nothing.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, he failed to notice the smirk on her face as she brought her wet hand up and wafted it under his nose.

“Would my Master like a taste?” she teased with overacted innocence.

Impulsively, he grabbed her wrist and latched on to her fingers with his mouth, gently sucking her clean. The taste was indescribable; slightly sweet, slightly salty, very clean and pure. He found her delicious and remembered his promise he’d made to her in the shower that morning. He wondered if all girls tasted as good a she did.

“You, my dear,” he said, “are. . .” He pretended to search for a word.

“Sexy?” she offered. “Randy? Insatiable? Tasty? Fuckable?”

“Yes you are.”

He stepped up to the portrait of the fat lady and was about to give the password when the portrait opened from the inside.

“There you are,” said Ron as he climbed out. “Just in time for lunch.”

Hermione followed him out. Her eyes raked Harry up and down once appraisingly before she seemed to gather herself.

“Harry,” she said, her voice a bit breathier than normal. “Are you all right? Did you take care of whatever it was you needed to do?”

Harry was unsure just what to do about the way Hermione was looking at him.

“Er, yeah,” he said uncomfortably. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

“Well,” said Ron. “Let’s head to lunch.”

Harry glanced at Gabby but didn’t call attention to her. The inside of her legs were still shiny with her secretions. He should probably get her to dry herself off. He also wanted to put his boxers back on.

“I, er—” Harry fumbled for an excuse. “I just need to run up to the dorm for a minute. I need to get my book for Defense.”

“OK,” Ron said. “We’ll wait for you, but hurry up.”

Harry climbed through the hole, pulling Gabby along with him.

Up in the dorm, he grabbed the towel that she hadn’t used that morning and quickly tossed it to her.

“Here,” he said, hurriedly. “Clean yourself up a bit.”

He opened his bag and pulled his boxers out. He opened his robe so that he could more easily put them on.

“Are you always going to be that messy?” he asked offhandedly. “You got that stuff all over the hall.”

He pulled his boxers on and, hearing no answer, looked over at her. She was standing there, the towel dangling from one hand, not moving. She looked on the verge of tears. He froze, unsure of what to do.

“The bond is still new,” she said tremulously, clearly fighting not to cry. Her eyes seemed fixed on the floor a few feet in front of him as though she were afraid to look up. “I don’t know if I’ll always—”

“Gabby,” he interrupted gently. She stopped speaking immediately and looked up at him. He saw fear in her beautiful eyes. “What’s the matter?”

She seemed to take a moment to decide what to say. When she spoke, her voice hitched. “Are you disappointed in me, Master?” she asked quietly.

That brought him up short. It felt to Harry as though all the air had just been violently sucked out of the room.

“What? No!” he said vehemently. “What made you think that?”

“I—” she said, but it was clearly difficult for her. She shook her head and tried to look away.

“Gabby, please tell me.”

She stood there, with her fluids air drying on her legs and tears clinging to her eyelashes. She took a deep breath as though to steady herself and Harry’s heart went out to her.

“Your voice,” she began carefully; fearfully, “when you threw the towel at me and told me to clean myself off, it was. . .harsh. You said I was too messy. You sounded angry about what I did in the hall. . .” She trailed off, tears now silently falling down her cheeks.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and thought back to what he’d done and said since they’d entered the room. For a moment he was confused, he didn’t know why she thought he was angry at her, then it occurred to him that he had been a bit curt with her, and he had tossed the towel rather harder than he’d meant to do. Replaying the events in his mind, with perhaps a little help from the bond, he realized exactly what he’d done and how she took it. He opened his arms to her as his expression changed from confusion to one of sadness, sympathy and regret.

She hesitated only a moment before dashing across the room, leaping into his lap and straddling him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her tightly into a hug and gave her a kiss on the side of her head as that was all he could reach.

“No, sweetie,” he said soothingly and she shivered a bit at the term of endearment. “I wasn’t disappointed with you or angry. This bond is new to me too, and having this attraction that it gave me. . . Well, let’s just say it’ll take some getting used to.” She pulled back a bit and looked him in the eye as though asking him what he meant. “I wasn’t quite prepared for Hermione’s reaction out in the hall. She’s been one of my best friends for nearly four years and to have her suddenly look like she wants to throw me down and have her way with me was. . . unexpected. When I said those things to you, I was mostly thinking about that”

She buried her head in back in his chest.

“So, you’re not angry with me, Master?”

He stroked a hand down her smooth back and then tightened his hold on her small frame. She tightened her grip as well and hunched her waist forward pressing herself as close as possible to him.

“No,” he said. “Of course not. I’m so sorry that I made you think I was.” She seemed to melt as all the tension left her body. “At the moment, I don’t think I could ever be angry or disappointed in you.”

He pulled back a bit and got her to look him in the eye.

“Tell you what,” he said brightly. “Since I’m new at the bonding thing, and, well, boy-girl stuff in general, if I do anything like that again, just assume that it’s not anything you did and it’s me being stupid about something, because that’s what it probably is. OK?”

She bit her lip and searched his eyes thoroughly before she nodded, smiling. She leaned up and gave him a kiss before leaning her head back into his chest, soaking in the comfort from her Master.

“I am unused to the bond, Master,” she said after a few moments. “I might not always be so. . .messy.”

“I hope you are.”

She looked up at him inquisitively.

“I do,” he defended. “I don’t know what I was thinking before. Seeing you dripping with anticipation. . . Seeing you so obviously aroused by me. It excites me like you wouldn’t believe.”

She giggled a bit, clearly feeling better.

“Yes I would,” she argued. “When I see or feel your hardness and know that it’s from me, it’s almost enough to make me come.”

She wiggled her bare bottom as though to prove her point.

The door burst open and Ron stood on the landing. There was a moment as he looked between Harry and the naked girl in his arms and back.

“I thought you were getting your Defense book.” he said impatiently. “Are you coming?”

“Sorry, Ron,” he said. “Just a bit of a misunderstanding. You and Hermione go on ahead. I’ll catch you up.”

“All right,” Ron said, and the door was closed again.

Harry and Gabrielle just held each other in the silence that followed. After a minute Harry gently asked, “Are we OK now?”

Gabby pulled back a bit and looked at him. There were still traces of tears lining her eyes but there was no sign of sadness in her face.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry that I—”

He stopped her with a finger on her lips.

“It was a misunderstanding,” he said. “And I contributed far more to it than you did. I’m sorry. It’s behind us now, yeah?”

“Yes, Master,” she said coquettishly. “May I go wash my face?”

He nodded and she extricated herself from his lap and dashed for the door.

Harry started to refasten his robes but stopped. He pulled his boxers back off then finished doing up his robes.

As they walked through the castle on the way to join Ron and Hermione, Gabby told him that she just remembered something she’d forgotten to tell him about the “pull”.

“If it really is the same as the Veela ‘pull’, it’s always there,” she said. “But you can control it. Normally, it’s spread out everywhere; every male—or in your case, female—will feel it equally. However, with practice, you can learn to focus it. You can narrow it down to a single person or a group. You can also focus it away from someone, but I understand that it’s harder to do that. Only you mentioned that the—effect—you had on your friend. . .”

“Hermione,” he supplied.

“Yes, you said Hermione’s reaction to you made you uncomfortable.”

He nodded. “It’s good information to have. I’ll have to practice it,” he said. “Maybe you’ll help me?”

She slumped a little.

“I don’t think I’ll be much help, Master,” she said sadly. “I’m too young to have the ‘pull’ so I don’t really know how to focus it. And you can’t practice on me, because, as your bonded, I’m immune.”

“Immune?” he asked.

“Well, it might be better to say you can’t focus it away from me. I’m always pulled to you.”

“Cheeky,” he said.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, while they were still quite alone, Harry informed her of the fact that he’d left his boxers in the dorm.

She looked up at him with wide eyes and a smile and when he winked at her, she teared up again and thanked him profusely. As they approached the door to the Great Hall, he finally understood her extreme reaction. It wasn’t the fact that he was naked under his robes, it was that he was naked under his robes for her.

He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Nothing’s too good for you, my pet,” he whispered.

They entered the Hall and Harry found himself fighting with his embarrassment; amidst the utter normality of lunch at Hogwarts, he was suddenly acutely aware of Gabrielle’s very naked presence. Hoping his face wasn’t too red, he found Ron and Hermione and he and Gabby took seats across from them.

It was quickly apparent that Hermione must have seen Harry hug Gabby through the door. She spent several minutes studying the younger girl with an inscrutable look on her face. Gabby seemed completely unconcerned, but Harry found that it brought her state of dress, or rather undress, to the forefront of his mind.

As they ate and all but Gabby chatted away about inconsequential things—homework, lessons, Quidditch and the like—his bond-mate carefully snaked her hand over and rested it on Harry’s thigh. He couldn’t say anything because he didn’t want to draw any more attention to the naked Veela, but also because he was incredibly aroused and didn’t want her to remove it. When it started creeping toward his crotch, he began to find it difficult to pay any more than the most rudimentary attention to wherever the conversation happened to be going.

Ron rambled about how bad the Cannons were doing this year and her hand shifted a few millimetres.

Hermione made some comment about what they’d studied in Transfiguration that morning and Gabby’s hand moved a bit more.

Ron asked him some question about the Merpeople in the lake and how they reacted to something Harry had done yesterday and the hand inched a bit further.

Harry tried to answer Ron’s question but he wasn’t sure the answer made any sense at all.

Suddenly, Gabrielle’s hand was grasping him through his robes. He was like iron.

Hermione looked suspiciously from Gabby to Harry and back but said nothing. Harry risked a glance over to the girl next to him to find her gazing up at him lustfully. She licked her lips lasciviously and his cock twitched in her hand.

The next second, Gabby had ducked under the table, paying no heed to the fact that Hermione was watching both like a hawk. As the girl vanished, Hermione looked back to Harry with one raised eyebrow and an expression that seemed to say, “Care to explain this?”

Harry couldn’t have answered if he’d wanted to as by that time, the girl had wormed her way between his legs and up under his robes. A split second later and his cock was engulfed in a warm, wet mouth.

Harry gritted his teeth and bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out. The danger, the thrill of possible discovery, the sheer blatancy of the act heightened every sensation.

Harry shoved a bit of food into his mouth and pretended to chew in the hope that no one would talk to him if he was eating.

The suction on his cock was heavenly. She bobbed her head and swirled her tongue and drove him toward ecstasy in the midst of hundreds of oblivious Hogwarts students. He flashed on her words to him the night before (had it only been last night?) about losing control and fucking in front of everyone in the Great Hall. That thought was coincidentally accompanied by a particularly vigorous bob of her head and his cock throbbed dangerously.

He fought to keep a straight face, but it was all he could do to keep from moaning.

Hermione got his attention; he realized he’d been staring into the space between his best friends for who knew how long.

“Are you all right, Harry?” she asked. “You’ve been acting a bit strange all day.”

Hermione had clearly forgotten that she’d seen a naked girl disappear under the table minutes before. The fact that somewhere, in the back of her mind was the suppressed knowledge that Gabrielle Delacour was under the table and that if she somehow remembered that she would instantly be able to work out what the girl was doing there had Harry fighting to control his impending orgasm.

In as steady a voice as he could manage, he ground out, “I’m fine, Her—mione.” He could only hope that she would ignore the hesitation in the middle of her name that had been caused by a sudden, involuntary intake of breath.

Gabby’s mouth worked his cock expertly. He realized she wasn’t using her hands, though, just her mouth. It was an obvious attempt to prolong the act and heighten the intensity of his inevitable climax. He suddenly wished he had the girl’s ability to be unnoticed; he would never be able to remain silent when he finally came. He wondered wildly if he could somehow hold out until all the students left for their afternoon classes so that it wouldn’t be quite so public. Unfortunately, he was sure that there was at least half an hour still left till the end of lunch.

“Are you sure, Harry?” Hermione continued. “You look a bit flushed again.”

Some fraction of Harry’s focus was drawn away from the wonderful sensations emanating from just under the table to the witch across from him. Had they been speaking? Were they having a conversation? What was she talking about?

“Perhaps it was your trip in the lake yesterday,” she pressed. “It might be best if you go see the nurse.”

She thought he was flushed because of his trip into the lake. The absurdity of just how right she was was not lost on Harry and his sudden desire to laugh nearly cost him his control.

He became aware that he was gripping his fork so tightly that he would be surprised if he hadn’t bent it.

Gabrielle had started going deeper, his cock was banging against the back of her throat with every stroke. Harry suppressed a primal grunt that threatened to tear it’s way out of his lungs.

“You do look a bit flushed, Harry,” came a voice two seats down from Ron. Lavender Brown was looking at him with concern and perhaps a hint of lust. Parvatti, sitting next to her, was staring at Harry with a look on her face that said not only had she forgiven him for the abysmal date they’d shared at the Yule Ball without him having to apologize for it, but that she’d like nothing more than another evening alone with him.

Harry gulped, partially from the looks the two girls were sending his way, partially from the sensations he was receiving from a third and partially from the realization that, Lavender and Parvatti and most likely any number of girls were focused solely on him and he was moments from coming.

“No really,” he said, doing his best to keep the fact that he was nearly gasping with pleasure from being completely obvious. “I’m fine.”

Gabrielle’s movements were becoming more insistent. The motions of her tongue were driving him to the very edge.

“Are you sure?” came a voice from Ron and Hermione’s other side. It was a third year girl who’s name he didn’t even know. Out of the corner of his eye, he also noticed Hanna Abbot, Susan Bones, Megan Jones and three or four other girls from other years at the Hufflepuff table watching him intently.

“Positive,” he managed. His breath was coming faster now and the fear that he might pass out from hyperventilation flitted across his mind.

He made another attempt at getting food to his mouth and pretending to eat, but he couldn’t seem to coordinate his fork enough to actually collect any on it.

He was so close now, and the gentle twisting motion that Gabby had added to her movements aided in bringing him to new heights of pleasure. This climax was going to be his strongest yet. There was no way he would be able to keep silent. He was going to cry out. It was going to be obvious to everyone in the Great Hall that Harry Potter was having an unbelievably intense orgasm.

He had the wild urge to call out Gabrielle’s name just to attract everyone’s attention to her. The thought of everyone knowing just what was happening and who was doing it was almost too erotic to bear.

His cock twitched mightily.

All those girls focused on him: Lavender, Parvatti, Hanna, Susan, Hermione. . .

Gabby stroked and swirled her tongue.

The pressure in his balls built with his impending release.

The muscles in his stomach tightened and he braced himself on the table in front of him. He couldn’t keep himself from glancing around.

Parvatti’s wide, lust-filled eyes. . .

Lavender licking her lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with the food in front of her.

The pressure built—Gabrielle licked and sucked.

Hermione’s nose flared and Harry imagined that part of her remembered Gabby’s presence and, so, was aware of the smell of sex drifting up from under the table. Perhaps Gabby had bumped into Hermione’s legs while she was down there and that was all it took to bring the memory up.

Gabrielle’s smooth, wet tongue glided along the underside of his throbbing erection.

Three seats down from Hermione, that third year girl looked as though she was undressing him with her eyes. Harry noticed her trying to be inconspicuous as her right hand moved unobtrusively beneath the table and he realized with a jolt that she was discretely rubbing herself.

Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes. It took all his strength and willpower to remain silent as he exploded into Gabby’s mouth. Pleasure radiated out from his groin so intense that even his hands and feet tingled. Involuntarily, his hips gently thrust forward a bit with each pulse of his cock. His mind was blissfully blank.

The orgasm seemed to go on forever. He heard something, but his brain failed to process it—it sounded as nothing more than a buzzing in his ears.

Pulse, pulse, pulse, the orgasm continued. Despite his closed eyes, he knew that every one of those girls that had been watching him before, were now seeing him come without knowing it. Or perhaps they could tell and it was arousing them as well. Maybe that third-year came when he did. The thought gave his erupting prick an extra powerful throb.

Finally, the pleasure receded a bit and the contractions at the base of his cock slowed. He risked opening his eyes. As the orgasm faded, he realized the buzzing sound that his brain had registered was Hermione trying to get his attention.

“Harry. Harry!” she said quietly but insistently. She was eyeing him with concern. “I think you really should go to the hospital wing.”

Under the table, Gabby finished sucking the last of his come out and slurped off his cock.

“I’m all right,” he said, his voice now a bit steadier, though perhaps gruffer than normal. His breathing was slowing now. “Just didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Amazingly, this seemed to mollify her.

Gabrielle slipped out from between his legs and popped back up into the seat she’d vacated earlier as though she’d just sneaked down to pick up a dropped napkin or errant spoon. Harry took a bite of food to make Hermione happy and glanced over at the little vixen sitting next to him. She was using her finger to scrape a bit of his come that had escaped back into her mouth. Her eyes were glassy. His shifted his attention over to Hermione, wondering if she still noticed Gabby, but she had clearly forgotten the girl. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

He glanced over at Lavender and Parvatti; they were whispering conspiratorially with each other, then Lavender looked over at him and giggled.

He looked back over at the third-year girl. She was worrying her bottom lip and her head was down in an attempt to hide the fact that her face was very red; Harry could see her eyes darting around and when they found that he was looking in her direction, they stopped, widened for a moment and quickly shifted down to rest on her plate. She appeared to try to make herself grow smaller. He found himself smirking as he realized that she most likely did have that orgasm. The thought made his pulse quicken and he briefly wondered if perhaps she would like the idea of a repeat performance. . . .Or more.

After lunch was over, the four of them trekked up the stairs toward the third floor and Defense Against the Dark Arts. As they reached the first floor landing, however, a voice from below stopped them.

“Monsieur Potter,” Mrs. Delacour called out. “Per’aps I could ’ave a moment of your time?”

Ron and Hermione seemed reluctant to let him go off alone with her but he convinced them it would be all right. In truth, though, he hadn’t given this meeting any thought, despite the fact that he should have realized it’s inevitability. He found himself suddenly nervous and as he walked back down the stairs and he felt his palms begin to sweat. Assuming this conversation was likely to be very awkward, he motioned Gabby’s mother into an unused ground floor classroom for a bit of privacy.

How would she take the news that her daughter was bound to him, he wondered. Surely that would mean she would realize what it was they had been doing. How would she take the knowledge of the kind of bond he shared with her little girl? How could she be anything but fiercely angry with him—as only a mother can be—the moment she discovered that her daughter would likely follow him around in the nude for the rest of her life?

He suddenly wondered if privacy was what he wanted. Unfortunately, the door was now closing behind him and he knew that any attempt to postpone this conversation now would be impossible. He mentally prepared himself for anything.

“Monsieur Potter,” she said again, “I was ’oping you could tell me where my daughter is.” He heard no accusation in her voice, merely a quiet acceptance and near certainty that she had come to the right person.

Gabrielle took his hand in hers in comfort and support but out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she was nervous too.

Harry tried to reply, but the best he could manage was to squeak out, “Your daughter?”

“Oui, Monsieur Potter,” she said. “She and I were scheduled to return to France zis morning but I awoke to find zat she was not in ’er room or anywhere in our guest quarters. And I ’ave reason to believe she would seek you out.”

Instead of answering the question, he found himself surprised by her last statement.

“You do?”

“Naturellement,” she said. “I could not ’elp but notice ze changes in ’er after ze. . . regrettable évènement of yesterday.”

Gabby leaned up to his ear and whispered, “regrettable event,” translating the French words she knew he didn’t understand.

“I believe zat your ’eroic rescue of my daughter may ’ave. . . attracted ’er to you. Also ze fact zat I can feel your ‘pull’ tells me zat somezing ’as ’appened between ze two of you.”

Surprisingly, Harry still heard no malice in her voice, only a calm assuredness. He glanced at the girl next to him and saw her give the briefest of nods. He took a steadying breath and used the had she was still holding to urge her a bit toward her mother.

“She’s here,” he said simply.

Mrs. Delacour’s eyes darted down to the nude form of her daughter and widened a bit. Then Gabby released his hand and she and her mother embraced.

After a moment, she held her daughter out at arms length and studied her.

“Comment vas-tu, ma chérie?” she asked.

“I’m fine, mother,” Gabrielle said patiently. “But I am not yours any longer.” She looked over her shoulder at Harry. “I’m his,” she finished.

“Bien sûr,” her mother said understandingly. “Tu lui appartiens peut être, mais tu seras toujours ma chérie.”

“Maman, English,” she chided. “My Master doesn’t understand French.”

Mrs. Delacour seemed to tense a bit at the word “Master” but she nodded and smiled at her daughter before turning her gaze to him.

“Of course,” she said. “My apologies. My English is not good. It is easier to speak to my daughter in French but it was rude of me.”

Uncomfortable, Harry found that he could only nod in understanding.

“So,” she said after studying Harry before turning back to her daughter. “Master? It is not ze normal bond zen?”

“No,” Gabby admitted quietly. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not,” she said soothingly, gathering her daughter back into a hug and looking at Harry appraisingly again. “I zink I saw ze kind of man your ‘Master’ is during ze task: ze kind of man ’oo would risk ’imself to ensure ze safety of ozzers. Ze bond will only make ’im want to protect you more. Just tell me one zing Gabrielle,” she said turning back to her daughter.

Gabby looked up from the hug expectantly.

“Are you ’appy?” her mother asked.

The radiant smile would have been all the answer her mother needed, but she responded anyway.

“More than I could have thought possible,” she proclaimed happily. She looked over at Harry positively flushed with affection. “I feel complete. It’s like I found a part of myself I didn’t know I was missing. You must know how it feels,” she said to her mother.

“Not yet,” she said wistfully. “But per’aps one day I will. Zough, I doubt I would choose ze bond you ’ave. I am pleased zat you are ’appy, ’owever.” She released Gabby and approached Harry.

“I trust I am leaving ’er in good ’ands?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“You can provide for ’er?” she asked.

He nodded. “I will do everything in my power to make sure she stays safe and happy, Mrs. Delacour,” he said.

She gave him a hug. “Monsieur Potter—” she began then continued in a gentler tone. “’Arry, we are as close to family as it is possible to be. Please call me Apolline. You may even call me as Gabrielle does if you wish.” She released Harry from her embrace, gave her daughter another hug and kissed her on the cheek. “Je t’aime,” she said.

“Je t’aime aussi, maman,” Gabby replied. “Toujours.”

“Ze two of you must come to France zis summer,” she said to them. “I would like to get to know ze man ’oo is now my new son.”

“I think I’d like that, A—Apolline,” he said, stumbling on her first name a bit. “And I’m sure that Gabby would.”

“‘Gabby’?” Gabrielle’s mother seemed surprised. “I zought you did not like ‘Gabby’.”

“Only when anyone but my Master calls me that,” she said defiantly. She smiled at Harry as though to say that she really did like him to call her Gabby.

After Apolline left, Harry and Gabby raced up to the third floor and Defense Against the Dark Arts. The bell rang when they were on their way so Professor Moody docked Gryffindor 5 points when Harry walked in late.

The double period passed uneventfully with Gabrielle standing dutifully next to Harry. For the most part she let him work, but occasionally did little things like lick his ear or caress his cheek with her fingertips when she thought she could get away with it.

Harry, during idle moments when Professor Moody was helping someone else, tried his hand at controlling the “pull”. He thought he might have made Lisa Turpin feel it enough to look up at him but, as he was trying to aim it at Padma Patil who was sitting next to her, he couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

After class, Moody held Harry back. When Ron and Hermione made noises about waiting for him, Moody shooed them off to dinner.

“Potter’s a big boy,” he growled. “I think he can find his own way down to the Gryffindor table, don’t you?” He pulled out his hip flask and took a drink. Ron and Hermione grudgingly left saying that they’d see him when he got down there..

Moody it transpired, wanted to talk about the tournament. He asked Harry about some of the things that happened under the lake, wanted to know how he fared with the Merpeople and practically demanded to know what he was thinking rescuing the “little French girl”. Harry wanted to rush to Gabrielle’s defense, but as he was being drilled by the scarred professor, he’d watched in fascination as that magical eye of his alternated between staring at Harry and spinning randomly in all directions likely looking for possible threats. He shuddered to think what would happen if he called enough attention to her that, at least from Moody’s point of view, the naked little girl suddenly appeared right before him.

Harry answered his questions to the best of his abilities and the professor dismissed him. Harry could feel that electric blue eye on him all the way out the door.

They had descended a floor and gone down several hallways before Gabby commented that she could feel how tense he was. He explained to her in a quiet voice that the former Auror would likely react poorly if he ever suddenly noticed her.

“The last thing in the world I want,” Harry said, “is to see you hurt.”

Her mouth curled in a sultry grin.

“Unless you’re the one doing the hurting,” she said. Harry looked at her questioningly so she pressed on. “Some day, I’d like to see if you can make me come by torturing my nipples the way you do.”

Harry’s cock stirred at the though and he wrapped his arm around her bare shoulders, giving her a smile that promised he would before turning serious. “I might cause you pain,” he said. “The most delicious, erotic, sexy kind of pain—but I hope I never hurt you. You understand that, right?”

The look on her face told him that she did indeed know what he meant and that she would like nothing more at the moment than to show him her thanks most affectionately.

At that moment, however, there was a noise from a short distance in front of them like a sudden intake of breath.

Startled, Harry looked away from Gabrielle to the source of the sound to find that second-year Gryffindor Victoria Frobisher had just come out of an adjoining hallway and was looking at the two of them. For one moment, due to his surprise, Harry was completely focused on his house-mate. She grunted, her knees buckled and she hit the floor. Harry rushed up to her, concerned that there was something wrong, Gabby right behind him.

He gathered the girl in his arms and shifted her around so that he could see her face. She was flushed, her eyes were glassy, she was breathing so fast she was practically panting and she whimpered occasionally.

“Vicky,” he said trying to get a response from the girl. “Are you OK? Is there something wrong?”

She just looked back at him as though she were seeing right through him. She moaned and jerked a bit in his arms.

“I think we need to get her to the hospital wing,” he said to Gabby, not caring if Vicky noticed her or not; this was an emergency! “Did someone attack you?” he asked the stricken girl.

She whimpered again but managed to shake her head falteringly. She seemed uncoordinated and Harry was unsure if she was really coherent enough to understand what he was asking. He had to help her.

At that moment, she moaned and jerked again. Had it been any stronger, Harry would have called it a convulsion. He was sure there was something dreadfully wrong with her.

He felt Gabrielle’s hand on his shoulder.

“Master,” she said gently, but Harry wasn’t listening.

“We need to get her to the hospital wing,” he said desperately.

“Master,” she repeated more insistently.

He looked up at her. “What is it?” he asked.

“Just ignore her for a moment,” she said calmly.

“What?” he asked, confused. Didn’t she realize that there was something seriously wrong? “We have to help her. She could be injured.”

“She’ll be fine, Master,” Gabby said, still very calm. The soothing tone of her voice was beginning to calm Harry’s nerves a bit. “Just ignore her for a moment. Focus on me.”

Harry pulled his eyes away from the girl in his arms and looked at the one by his side. She was staring intensely back at him. For a moment, he nearly lost himself in her gaze despite the urgency of the situation.

As the seconds passed, he felt Vicky slowly relax. He looked back down at her to find her no longer in apparent distress, but staring back up at him with the same look that he’d seen during lunch on the faces of all those girls.

The next second, she had leaned in and planted her lips on his. It took only a moment for him to recover from his shock and return the kiss with equal ardour.

Her tongue found his and she moaned into his mouth. Their arms held each other, hands roaming, exploring, caressing.

Without warning she bolted upright and, for an instant, Harry thought it was over. But she seized his his hand and pulled him into the adjacent classroom, Gabby following along in their wake, remembering to grab both student’s book-bags. The moment they were inside, she’d closed the door and nearly ripped at his robes in an effort to get them off of him. Harry barely had the presence of mind to lock and silence the door.

Once she had his robes off, her eyes widened and she groaned. Apparently, she had not expected him to be naked underneath. She was upon him in a moment and they returned to kissing passionately. She reached down, took him in her hand and began stroking him to hardness.

Gabrielle managed to reach in between them and begin unfastening the catches on her robes. The going was slow as she was fighting just to reach them, but one by one, they popped open. Harry wasn’t helping as he had his arms around Vicky, pulling her close to him as though he sought to merge with her, which, he supposed, in a way, he did.

They broke the kiss and Vicky groaned again as Harry trailed little kisses and licks along her cheek to her ear and then down her neck.

“Oh, gods, Harry,” she moaned. “That feels lovely!”

Now Gabrielle had managed to get the girl’s robes open and was attempting to pull them off but meeting resistance as Vicky’s arms were still busy, one hand on massaging his bum and the other stroking his now tumescent shaft.

“Master,” Gabby said petulantly, “I would love to strip this wanton slut for you—” Vicky moaned again upon hearing Gabby’s term for her. “—but she’s just not cooperating.”

Harry grabbed her arms and moved them to the girl’s sides. Gabby latched on to her robes and yanked them down as far as she could. When Harry let go, Vicky finished the process, by pulling her arms out of the sleeves so that she could return one hand to Harry’s prick. The other hand, he noticed, went straight for the crotch of her transparently wet knickers. Under her robes, she wore only a thin, pale green vest with thin straps and the aforementioned knickers in white cotton. On her feet, she wore ankle socks under powder blue and white trainers.

Harry’s hands found pleasant features of her anatomy to explore; one hand found her hip and upper thigh, the other, one of her breasts. It was a novel experience for him, having never felt a breast before. They were tiny, an A-cup in his uneducated opinion—in reality a double-A-cup—but they were there. He marvelled at the pliant flesh just under her vest; she wore no bra, not really needing one.

Slipping one side under Harry’s groping hand easily, Gabby pulled the girl’s knickers down to her feet, though Vicky was apparently unaware of that fact and so didn’t bother to step out of them. The vest presented her with something of a problem, however, as the position of Vicky’s arms, not to mention Harry’s hand manipulating the girl’s barely pubescent chest, prevented all but a few inches of movement.

Vicky released his cock and ran both hands up his back, pulling him closer. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around him, capturing his hardness up against her arousal-slicked sex. Harry growled and shifted his hips so that his erection was dragged along her cleft. She squealed at the movement and clung to him.

Gabrielle was becoming desperate. Wanting nothing more at the moment than to get the girl’s shirt off, she finally just grabbed what she could of it and, with all her Veela strength, pulled. It stretched a moment and then, with the sound of rending fabric, ripped free. Vicky cried out from the suddenness and perhaps a bit of pain from where the garment dug cruelly into her delicate skin before tearing.

Vicky seemed to suddenly become aware that she was nude save her shoes. She pushed Harry back until he finally understood what she wanted and allowed her to manoeuvre him onto his back. She was astride him in no time, lifting herself up and positioning him at her sopping entrance. With a determined and lustful look, she began lowering herself onto him. Harry was curious about the tearing sensation he felt as he slid into her depths, but she didn’t even pause her descent so he assumed that she was all right.

By now, Gabby had discarded the ruined garment and made her way over to her Master and the girl with whom he was currently coupling. She moaned as she felt Harry’s pleasure trickle through the bond as he entered the girl. She knelt next to them and took one of the girl’s petite breasts in her mouth, kissing and sucking and lavishing the hard little nipple with attention from her tongue. Vicky groaned, whether it was from the homage being paid her developing boob by the girl dressed in the choker or from the feeling of being penetrated by hard male flesh for the first time, only she knew.

Harry was in heaven. Even though older, the girl currently sinking down onto him was tighter than his Gabby. He became concerned that she might injure herself in her desire to be fully penetrated. He grabbed her hips and tried to slow her progress.

“Easy,” he told her. “Take your time.”

She didn’t seem to listen. She just kept sinking on him, millimetre by millimetre.

Harry watched in amazement as Gabby licked and sucked one of the girls breasts before moving to the other. He found that he could reach between her legs so he plunged two fingers into her wet slit. Her cry of pleasure was muffled by Vicky’s flesh and she bit down on the girl’s right nipple. The Gryffindor girl screamed in pleasure and dropped the rest of the way down. She moaned in pain and ecstasy and the suddenness of the invasion.

Harry began fucking his fingers in and out of Gabby’s cunt. After a moment to adjust to the full loss of her virginity, Victoria began fucking herself on his cock. She started with small movements, little more than grinding, but within seconds, she was driving herself down on him and Harry was thrusting up to meet her, the sounds of their wet, slapping flesh filling the room.

“Oh, God, Vicky,” exclaimed Harry, “that feels so good.”

He added a third finger to Gabrielle’s pussy and she squealed in delight. She began raking her teeth over Vicky’s breasts, trying in vain to catch and bite the nipples on the bouncing girl. Vicky grabbed Gabby’s head and pulled her closer, adding pressure to her scraping teeth. Her head went back and her eyes closed. Harry noticed.

“You like what Gabrielle is doing to you?” he asked his house-mate.

She looked down at him.

“Oh—gods yes!” she said as she bounced. “She can—do this to—me any time.”

Harry used the hand not currently plunging into Gabby and stroked around Vicky’s slit. He found her little nubbin and seized it, pinching. She cried out and came. Her pace slowed a bit and each of her thrusts impacted Harry harder, but she did not stop.

Gabrielle stopped teasing her breasts and sought the girl’s mouth in a kiss. She managed to bring the girl to a stop and pushed her onto her back. Harry got onto his knees between the her legs, lifted her by the hips and plunged back into her centre. Gabby leant over the girl and kissed her again. From this angle, he could see their tongues dancing around and he growled at the sight and thrust harder. He tried to move his hand back to Gabby’s folds, but Vicky either didn’t want to, or couldn’t, hold herself up so Harry had to keep both hands on her hips to support her.

When their kiss ended, Gabby began trailing her tongue down along the girl’s body—her jaw, her neck, her chest, her delicate breasts. . .

She licked and sucked Vicky’s bellybutton for a while before moving on down. When she reached the spot where Harry was vigorously plunging into her, she found her clit and gave it a lick. Vicky howled and thrust up to meet her, nearly forcing Harry’s cock from inside her.

After they’d readjusted and Harry resumed his strokes, Gabby crawled up to look Vicky in the eye.

“That was naughty,” she said, finding one of Vicky’s nipples and twisting it painfully; the girl moaned, either in pleasure or pain or both. “You broke my Master’s rhythm.” She trailed her fingers lightly across to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment. “I think you’re going to have to be punished.”

Gabby reached down and found her most sensitive area, this time with her fingers. When she attempted to rise up and add to the pressure, Gabby’s hand forced her to remain at the same height.

“Naughty,” the Veela said. She seized the girl’s clit and pinched it.

“Aaahhh,” the second-year cried incoherently.

“Naughty,” she repeated, this time twisting it.

“Ooohhh,” she moaned.

Harry continued thrusting away, plundering the girls depths, entranced by the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Naughty,” Gabby said finally. This time she slapped her pussy.

Vicky came, grunting like an animal.

When her orgasm subsided, Gabby was right in her face.

“You liked that, didn’t you, slut?” she asked.

Victoria hesitated, but nodded.

“Well, maybe you’ll like this too,” she said. Then she got on her knees and straddled the Gryffindor’s face, lowering her cunt to the girl’s mouth. For a time, Harry thought nothing was happening, then Gabrielle moaned and fell forward onto her hands. Harry could see the second-year’s tongue lapping at the Veela’s folds. The sight nearly drove him over the edge.

He managed to manoeuvre his hands so that he could massage Vicky’s clit with his thumb as he fucked her. It was no more than thirty seconds before he saw her stop licking and cry out in orgasm again. After coming down from her sexual high, she went right back to licking the younger girls bald twat.

Harry continued pounding and massaging. He could feel pleasure trickling through the bond from Gabby, heightening his enjoyment.

He was nearing his orgasm now. Another minute or two and he would be there.

He moved his left hand farther under Vicky to better support her and with his right hand, he tugged on the sparse pubic hair growing at the top of the girl’s slit. She moaned, so he pulled harder. This girl seems to enjoy pain, he thought as she moaned again. He knew Gabby did to some extent, but it seemed an even bigger turn-on for Vicky.

He pulled harder, actually lifting the skin at the top of her sex. She moaned louder and the rhythm of her licking faltered a bit. He pulled again, this time hard enough that the hair pulled free. As it did, her head lifted an inch and she screamed into Gabby’s delicate flesh in yet another orgasm.

That was all it took. Harry tipped over the edge and spilled himself inside his house-mates cunt. The pleasure rushing through the bond, added to the sensation of the girl screaming into her pussy, pushed Gabby into her climax as well. For several seconds, the trio wallowed in their mutual orgasm before finally collapsing in a heap.

After basking in the afterglow for a few minutes, Gabby was the first one to recover. She retrieved the two sets of robes, handed Vicky hers and helped Harry put his on. Then she found Vicky’s knickers and ruined vest and gave them back to the girl. Vicky absent-mindedly placed her vest in her bag and looked at her soaked knickers in something of a daze. She looked at Harry and smiled and handed them to him.

“You keep them,” she said. “I have plenty more.” She stood, pulling her robes on as she did. As an afterthought, she added, “And you can earn them any time you want.”

Harry gave her a lecherous grin as they fastened up their robes.

“You had best be careful, Miss Frobisher,” he said. “If you make offers like that, someone might just take you up on them.”

“Mmmm, I certainly hope so,” she said wistfully.

They left the room together and headed for the Great Hall to catch the end of dinner. They wound up parting ways before long as Vicky was walking a bit gingerly.

Once they were alone, Harry asked Gabby what happened in the hall.

“You focused on her, Master,” she said. Harry didn’t get it and asked what she meant.

“When she startled us, you focused on her. Completely. Your ‘pull’ was entirely focused on her.”

Harry was stunned at the implications.

“When you focused your ‘pull’ on her and only her, she came. That’s why she collapsed.”

Harry suddenly realized. “So when I was holding her in the hall and she kept shuddering. . .”

“She was coming. Repeatedly.”

“God, no wonder she was so wet.”

Gabby nodded.

“You, Master, are going to be dangerous, once you gain control of that,” she said with barely restrained excitement.

Harry had a lot to think about during dinner.


A/N I don’t think it really needs it (as it’s not critical to the story and also since it’s from Harry’s point of view and he doesn't understand it), but since it has almost become tradition to translate foreign languages in the author's notes, I shall oblige:


naturellement—naturally

regrettable évènement—regrettable event, exactly what Gabby says it means.

comment vas-tu—how are you

ma chérie—my dear

bien sûr—of course

tu lui appartiens peut être, mais tu seras toujours ma chérie—you may belong to him, but you will always be “ma chérie”. (This is the only thing I had to look up as the memories of my decades old high school French classes are fading. If there are any French speakers out there who want to tell me I did a horrible job of translating and correct me, be my guest.)

maman—mama

Je t’aime—I love you

aussi—also

toujours—always or forever. Literally, it’s a joining of two words that mean “all days”

(Thanks to SirZic on Harry Potter FanFic Archive for help with the French.)

NOI