FicWad

Chapter 5 - The Escape

EDIT: My bad :( I changed the prostate thing...messed up. blushes

An elegant, slim finger rose, pensively tapping against her jaw. The expression of interested musing on her face slowly slipped away, replaced by a wicked smirk.

Narcissa grinned wickedly, snapping her fingers. With a pop, a House-Elf appeared, dressed as usual in a combination of rags and wash-cloths. It bowed subserviently, nose almost scraping the ground with the effort it put into groveling.

Then, its eyes widened and it dashed across the room to the lump of broken flesh that was Draco Malfoy. A cacophony of half-screeched, half-muttered words tumbled from its green lips as it prepared to heal the child, struggling against its reflexive desire to punish itself.

"Halt!" snapped Narcissa, patience wearing thin, "Do not heal him!"

Perplexed, Inky, or Blinky or whatever its name was leapt back, bowing once again. "Mistress does not wish for Tippy to heal young Master?" It asked, the squeaky voice and the irritating third-person causing Narcissa to grimace.

"No, Elf. Young Master will not be healed. I -" She was interrupted by the elf, who squealed as if it had lost a limb.

"Mistress..." it cut itself short, a look of horror appearing on its face as it realized that it had just interrupted the Mistress of the House. Wailing, unknowingly producing another grimace of distaste on Narcissa's face, it began smashing its head against the floor, fists pounding against the marble.

Swiftly, a foot exploded out of the elf's peripheral vision, crashing into its chest. With a squeak of pain, it was sent sailing across the room and into the wall, where it tumbled to the floor in a mess of rags and bones.

Narcissa raised a cultured eyebrow, a look of amusement in her eyes.

Tonks grinned, muttering "Always wanted to do that...it just seemed like the right time, Aunty." Narcissa laughed, a tinkling, happy sound that had rarely been heard in the halls of Malfoy Manor. Striding over, she lifted the elf with little trouble, and tossed it on the ground a few feet from her. She was still, for the most part, the happy-go-lucky girl that she had always been, but she had noticed a darker side to herself lately. Perhaps it was Harry, perhaps it was just her own desires...she couldn't tell. But caught in the maelstrom of action that the last week had brought and the action that the next few days promised, she honestly didn't care, preferring to 'go with the flow'.

"Elf, keep yourself silent while I speak!" she commanded, her patience with the race of House-Elves apparently wearing very thin, "I want you to find two young House-Elves that work here. They should be energetic, and one should be female, and the other a male. Go now."

The elf, obviously happy to have been spared punishment or even death, popped away. A few seconds later, twin pops of air denoted the arrival of two elves, who began bowing.

Once again, Narcissa had to stop them from healing Draco, this time her irritation manifesting itself with two swift applications of the Cruciatus Curse. The screaming elves slowly quieted, though their limbs still shook. Tonks was grinning widely, apparently amused by her exasperation with the elves.

"Stop fidgeting, you worthless creatures!" she snapped, sparks flying out of her wand dangerously. The elves meekly crouched, awaiting her orders.

She smirked wickedly, taking Tonks' hand in hers. "As soon as my niece and I leave this room, the two of you will proceed to strip Draco, and copulate with him. You will not stop until he is dead, is that clear? At no point should he be allowed to faint...you will revive him and continue. You are not to obey any command he might give."

The elves nodded, but as she turned to leave, the male one bravely squeaked out "Mistress, what is copulate? Poncy is not knowing."

As Tonks laughed hysterically, Narcissa explained exactly what she meant, blushing slightly at the idea of giving the 'talk' to a House-Elf. The expressions of bewilderment on the faces of the creatures slowly faded, replaced by looks of slight horror on the male elf's face, and curiosity on the female elf's face. Narcissa fought the urge to cackle at the latter.

Crouching down, Narcissa peered at her broken son. A slight flash of pity crossed her eyes before it faded away. "Enjoy this, Draco," she whispered, "I'm repaying what you did to those Muggles."

Then, she whirled about, took Tonks' hand in hers, and walked out of the room, closing the door and locking it from the outside.

Inside, Poncy's shoulders slumped as he faced Draco. Bumpy snapped her fingers, causing Draco's bloody clothes to vanish, and his body to float into the air. With another snap of her fingers, Draco's member stood erect.

She squealed with delight at the view, excitedly saying "It is little bigger than Poncy's!" She straddled Draco as Poncy moved behind the boy.

Eight hours later, a pair of extremely drained House-Elves collapsed in the kitchens, having finally completed their task. Draco Malfoy lay dead in his own bedroom, a look of pain and horror twisting his face.


*************** ***************** *****************


With a heave, Harry tossed Becka onto the large bed in the guest room, the girl scrambling to cover herself with the sheets. He stood, looking at her placidly, as Bellatrix floated Becka's parents into the room. A flick of her wand set the two Muggles down on the carpeted floor, and she moved behind Harry, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. The husband and wife looked content in ther sleep, neither knowing the horrors that awaited the their child, neither knowing the horrors that were in store for /them/.

Becka stared at him in terror, her pretty features contorted with fear. "P-Please," she whispered brokenly, "don't do this."

"Do what, Becka?" he whispered, approaching her. The naked girl recoiled, a tear slipping down her cheeks.

"D-Don't touch me," she pleaded, shuffling towards the headboard of the bed, an expression of terror in her eyes. The quivering voice, the tears, her pleading actions, it all satisfied his lusty desires, appeasing his naked, wonton desire to spoil that which was pure. Still, his eyes betrayed none of those emotions, simply regarding her with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. He knew the terror she was experiencing, and though he basked in the sated glow of pleasure that it brought him, his every action seemed comforting, belying the threat that he so obviously posed.

She shuddered, weeping openly as she was cornered against the end of the bed. His hand reached out, gently touching her cheek, but she recoiled as if she had been struck.

Slowly, he came closer to her, cupping her cheek with his palm. He stared into her eyes, his thumb stroking her cheek, running over the high cheekbones and her smooth, creamy skin. She fell silent, captivated by the emerald eyes that held her gaze, though the tears did not stop. The adorable expression of fear commingled with captivation made him smirk wickedly, his male dominance satisfied by her appreciation of the force he could wield. After all, the crushing blow that had murdered her boyfriend had come with only the slightest of force from his boot-clad foot.

He released his aura, slowly wooing her. Within seconds, her tears evaporated, replaced by a look of slight confusion. He was exuding his aura at a very low level, not high enough to cause the wild response that she had given earlier.

He felt Bella remove his robe, and made no move to stop her as she slowly disrobed him. Becka's hold on the sheets relaxed, and they slipped down her neck, resting across her breasts. The image was one of innocent beauty, and involuntarily, Harry's breath hitched.

He sat beside her, his fingers never leaving her cheek, and gazed in enraptured wonder at her. The innocent, virgin Muggle exuded an atmosphere of sensuality so thick that it entirely overwhelmed him. But lurking beneath the veneration for this pure view sat a festering delight, a wicked happiness at the fact that he would be the one to steal this innocence away. And within seconds, the delight manifested itself as he smirked at her, drawing her close to him. Her eyes closed shut, an expression of peace on her face as she leaned in obediently, her own hands rising to press against his chest. The action wasn't preventive...it was inviting, her hands dancing across his chest as she memorized each plane of his muscled torso.

Slowly, he drew the sheet away from her, the crawling pace of the movement exciting him to new heights as she was slowly laid bare. Becka sighed, her breath playing across his cheek, and straightened her legs, maneuvering herself so that she was on her back, head nestled among the soft pillows. He moved on top of her, dimly aware that Bellatrix had entirely disrobed him, and held himself an arm's breath away, suspended on his strong forearms. As he gazed into her eyes, searching the innocent blue orbs for some emotion, she swallowed, her hands raising again to settle against the sides of his chest, trailing down to his hips.

"No," he whispered, moving off her. She stared at him, perplexed, wondering why he wasn't exploiting her willing body with the gusto that she had seen him drag her here with.

Bellatrix, too, was confused. After the earlier display of gore, where he had been laughingly torturing a man, she found it hard to believe that he would leave this flower unplucked. She looked at him, gaze askance, and asked "You do not wish to have her?"

Harry laughed, a pleasant yet wicked sound. "Don't be ridiculous, Bella...of course I do. But, I don't want to fuck her while I have her enthralled. I want her struggling, I want to steal her innocence while she knows what I am doing, while she knows that there is nothing she can do about it."

Bella stared at him for a second before laughing. She shook her head, muttering "I should have known." Her rueful smile made him grin, and she withdrew her wand, preparing to restrain the girl when he retracted his aura.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, looking at Becka, and muttered "Restrain her...I want to have some fun with her mother first. We will break her together, Bella...she is an interesting creature."

Bella grinned, a flick of her wand causing the confused girl to rise off the bed and move against the wall, where ropes tied her wrists and ankles to the stones. Harry's aura disappeared, causing Becka to thrash about in panic, unable to explain her previous actions. She screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks once more, the muscles on her neck standing taut.

Harry approached, placing his hand on her stomach, caressing her skin. She screamed again, unable to strike out at him, and tried to push his hand off by thrusting her body forwards. He laughed at the action, gripping her thighs in both hands and saying "Shh...not so fast, my love." His laconic grin made her sob, her cheeks red as she fought fruitlessly against the bonds that held her. He kneeled, gently pressing his hands against her hips so that her rear was once again pressed to the wall. His tongue slowly extended, licking against her folds, tasting her. She, unsurprisingly, was not wet due to her fear, but the sensation of his tongue brushing against the hooded bundle of nerves made her buck against the wall, a shameful pleasure from a humiliating act.

He laughed, rising again, staring into her eyes again. She blushed brightly, though the tears did not stop. Then, she was confused as he turned his back on her, only to scream out in frustration as Bellatrix floated her mother onto the large bed. She knew what was about to happen, and she fought fitfully against the ropes, screaming obscenities that seemed out of place from the mouth of this sweet, virginal girl. Harry, in response, merely gave her an amused look, and then focused his attention on the mother.

The woman seemed no older than thirty, perhaps thirty-two, and was exceedingly beautiful. She did bear signs of age, but a casual glance indicated that she was closer to Tonks' age than Narcissa's true age. Of course, the blonde beauty now, and would forever look no older than twenty-two at the most, thanks to the Ritual. Like her daughter, the mother possessed small, but pert breasts, the swell of her bosom looking enticing through the plunging neckline of the dress she wore. The dress itself was fancy, a white gown made of shimmering silk, a black and gold border framing the beauty of the dress. Her feet, Harry noted with some amusement, were clad in fluffy slippers that indicated that she had been barefoot before the 'catastrophe' had taken place on the street she lived in.

He jumped as Bella's hand squeezed his ass, and turned to see her grinning. "You like what you see?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows theatrically. In response, he waved his hand, vanishing her robes, making her gasp in shock.

He took her in his arms, his hands cupping her curved rear, and brushed his nose against hers, muttering "I like this view better." She smirked, pressing herself harder against his chest, her arousal evident through the rock hard nipples that rubbed against his chest. Leaning in, he kissed her, earning a strangled cry from Becka. Their kiss was passionate, a lengthy, sensual exploration of the other's mouth, tongues dancing gently. When they drew apart, Bella rested her head on his shoulder, facing the girl stuck to the wall.

She laughed wickedly, reaching out to pinch Becka's nipple. "You liked that, didn't you?" she asked, smirking widely as Becka shook her head vehemently. "Yes, you did," she whispered in a sultry voice, her fingers trailing down Becka's resisting body to touch her moistened folds. "Look at that," she whispered, stroking Becka's lips with the wet fingers, "you're wet, you little slut."

She felt her world close in on her, constricting her from all sides. Her breath grew frantic as she panicked, her eyes snapping to and fro in panic, a gleam of terror entering her pretty blue eyes. She wasn't prepared for this. At no point in her life had she ever envisioned such a scene, with a terrifyingly beautiful man and his almost-equally beautiful woman taunting her, humiliating her, raping her. She was out of ideas, she had no way to bargain with these people. She had nothing that they couldn't forcibly take from her, and that was exactly what they were doing. So she wept in frustration, unable to protect herself, unable to protect her parents, and unable to fathom why God had put her in this situation

Becka sobbed, trying to evade Bella's prying fingers as her own juice was smeared on her lips. But the action was made redundant by her tongue's experimental sweep of her lips, tasting the fluid of her arousal even as her overt actions seemed to recoil from the touch. Hysteria aside, the girl seemed fearful, though a tiny part of her felt aroused, intrigued.

Bellatrix laughed, running her soft hand across Becka's stomach, the muscles of which were clenched as the young Muggle vainly tried to escape her prowling hand. Harry laughed, leaning down to nuzzle Bella's neck, whispering "You wicked, wicked woman." Bella grinned in response, noting the flush of arousal that stained the Muggle's cheeks, her eyes wide.

Obviously, the girl found herself inordinately aroused by the actions of the couple before her...from the sensuous kiss to the gentle caresses that they gave each other, each action made her wetter and wetter. Bellatrix, noticing the way the muggle squirmed, trying to close her legs and rub her thighs together, grinned even wider.

She turned in Harry's grasp, pressing her rear against his crotch, and moved so that her body was pressed against Becka's. She leaned into the shorter girl, her lips brushing against the terrified Muggle's own as she spoke, her warm breath playing across those beautiful, pink lips.

"You're a little slut, aren't you?" she whispered cajolingly, her iridescent violet eyes boring into Becka's innocent blue ones. Becka trembled, letting out a sob, whimpering her denial even as the sensation of Bellatrix's large breasts pressing against her own caused her to get even wetter. Bella's eyes clearly announced her disbelief in the vehement denial, but she smiled placatingly, whispering "If you say so..."

The suggestive way that she trailed off in made Becka blush, and the girl shouted "NO!" Then, in a soft, broken voice, she whispered "I'm not a slut."

Bella laughed softly, and bit down on the Muggle's lower lip, eliciting a cry of pain. "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself, /Becka/," she whispered, smirking at the girl. Then, whirling about, she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, saying "But that doesn't matter, really."

Harry lifted Bella off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around him, straddling his hips in mid air. He shot her an amused glance before leaning his head down to kiss her collarbone, her breasts heaving under his chin. The flush of pleasure on her skin from the simple action had traveled down to her breasts, and lifting her even further into the air, he buried his head into her cleavage. His tongue circled her nipple before he took it in his mouth, biting slightly to capture the small knob of flesh between his teeth. Gently, then building to a crescendo, his tongue flicked across her hardened nipple even as his teeth lightly bit down on it, causing her to let out a low keen of pleasure, her back arching involuntarily.

He drew away, smirking, and whispered into her ear "You want it even harder than she does, don't you?" Bella blushed brightly, giving him his answer. His smirk widened, and he moved towards the bed, leaning over her as he laid her down. Then, sliding on top of her, he gazed into her eyes, admiring the violet hue of the usually unexpressive orbs.

She felt the head of his cock brushing against her entrance, and her hands rose to his neck, then slipped down to his shoulders. "Fuck me," she whispered, kissing his lips, "make me yours again."

Slowly, achingly, he slid into her, and her eyes pressed tightly shut as her most intimate area was invaded. Fully pressed into her, he paused, looking into her eyes. Beyond the lust, beyond the insanity, he saw innocence, and he saw love. He blinked, looking deeper into the violet eyes of his Alpha, and then grinned as he saw the insanity that lay buried even deeper within her. Heaving a theatrical sigh of relief, he began moving against her in achingly slow movements. With each thrust, he kissed her, stifling the low, throaty moans that exploded out from her lips. Within minutes, she was panting for breath, drawing in long, shuddering breaths that made her bosom heave enticingly. His hand was gripping her slim waist, the other supporting his weight, and his lips seemed attached to her collarbone. With each thrust, Becka stifled a whimper, fighting against the arousal that threatened to make itself increasingly obvious. She failed.

With a guttural shriek of pleasure, Bellatrix climaxed, shortly followed by Harry, who shuddered as his seed was forcefully shot deep into her womb. As they lay there panting, they grew aware of the heavy breathing of another person. She looked towards the mother, but the elder Muggle lay peacefully on the bed, still unconscious. Then, as one, their vivid gazes turned the other direction, falling upon Becka.

The young Muggle girl had tears of humiliation streaking her pretty face as she fought against the ropes, but her arousal was equally evident through the wet streaks on the inside of her thighs and the rock hard nipples. Bellatrix, still panting from the orgasm, managed a wheezing laugh that captivated Harry's gaze, her generous bosom dancing with her hilarity. He cracked a grin and rolled them over, positioning his Alpha above him, and slipping his member out of her. She sat up slightly, her hands on his shoulders, and gazed down at him, noticing the expression of veneration on his face. Looking down, she blushed brightly, seeing what had captured his attention. With her hands on his shoulders and her arms straightened, her delectable breasts hung in his vision, gently pressed together by her upper arms. The curve of her slim waist to her rounded hips was equally obvious, framed from above by her heaving breasts, and below by his own muscular abdomen.

Leaning down, she smirked at him, cupping his cheek with one hand. Her hair fell to one side, cascading over her shoulder and draping across his chest, the sensation of the silky, soft strands exciting him as her lips brushed against his. As she began to speak, he cut her off, cupping her cheek with one hand, while the other rested on her hip, and pressed his lips against hers in a needy, primal kiss. The passion between them sparked as they attacked each other's mouth with animalistic ferocity, tongues barely touching before their lips melded together again, intervening in the fluid dance of the tongues.

When they drew apart, both were flushed and breathing heavily, hair slightly mussed and eyes slightly unfocused. "That was...nice," grinned Harry, somewhat at a loss for words.

Bella smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "You think you'll have anything left to take care of the two Muggles?" she asked, smirking slightly, the rhetorical question more of a complement to his virility than an honest question.

He grinned, shifting her body off his and sitting up. His eyes lowered to his crotch, and smirking, he whispered "Watch this." Where his cock had been flaccid after the whirlwind orgasm, in a flash it stood erect, throbbing with need. She stared, utterly shocked, unable to form a coherent response. Blankly, her eyes turned to his face, only to see him smirk. Leaning in, he kissed her, whispering "I told you I'm a machine, sweetheart."

She blushed, both at the endearment and at the fact that his virility exceeded any bounds that she had previously imagined. "Is that what makes you unload such a massive amount every time?" she asked sarcastically, though the look of satisfaction on her face belied the question's purpose. His breath played about her ears as he bit down on her earlobe and whispered "No...that part is just me."

She laughed vibrantly, a laugh that seemed almost inappropriate from the lips of Bellatrix Black. Grinning, he stood and hauled her up, pressing a kiss to her lips. "On with the show, then," he muttered, squeezing her delectable rear once before moving away. She stood back, and watched him do what he knew best, what was utterly natural to one such as him.

As me moved away, she teasingly pinched his ass, smirking at his amused expression. "I do so love watching you go to work, dear," she simpered theatrically, making him laugh. Leaning back in, he pressed a kiss to her lips, shot her his lopsided grin, and turned back to the Muggle.

Harry let loose his aura at a slightly forceful level, the effect focused on Becka's mother. The woman in question, though sleeping, let out a low moan, causing her daughter to blush brightly at the sensuality laced in the sound. Harry paid Becka no heed, focusing on the mother instead, his eyes appreciatively roving over her figure. From the creamy white skin to the pink lips, every aspect of the woman's body was attractive to him. Waving his hand, he cast the Enervate charm on the unconscious woman, causing her to wake up, looking fresh as ever.

A slow smile crossed her face as she saw Harry standing before her, a seductive yet innocent expression that made Harry smile in reply. He sat down on the bed as she sat up, her hands unconsciously rising to toss her hair over her shoulders.

"Hello," he whispered, entirely unashamed of the fact that his nakedness was more than obvious, "you're Becka's mother, aren't you?"

Suspended on the wall, Becka opened her mouth to scream a warning to her mother, only to find that while her vocal chords were taking the strain, no noise seemed to emit. Perplexed, she tried again, only to receive the same result. Bella, smirking wickedly, pinched the girl's nipple, attracting her attention, and waved her wand in a 'no-no' gesture. Frustrated, Becka burst into tears, the crumpled expression on her face seeming out of place without the accompanying noise.

"Jennifer," the woman said, her voice seductively low, the introduction sufficing Harry's purposes.

"Well, Jennifer," Harry whispered, drawing closer to her until his lips were a scant few centimeters from hers, "I'm Harry. I've been-"

She cut him off, pressing her lips against his forcefully, kissing him with such abandon that one would think she had never been kissed before. Immediately, her hands were wandering, touching and stroking his body and adventurously moving down to his crotch to stroke his member. Pulling away from her, he smiled, his hand caressing her cheek. She leaned into his touch, eyes closed, a beatific smile on her face. Her hardened nipples made for a sharp relief through the silky material of her dress, a sure indication of her arousal.

Once more she kissed him, this time with a combination of passion and love, both caressing and attacking his lips with her own. She had crawled into his lap, straddling him, and had her arms around his neck, gripping him tightly. He returned the kiss with vigor, gently easing her lips open and meeting her tongue halfway. Her mouth tasted of fine wine, both a testament to the circles she frequented and to the sort of woman she was.

Drawing away from her, he gazed at her with lust smoldering in his eyes, breathing hard as he whispered "Strip for me, sweetheart." She smiled, the beautiful features of her face lighting up with the simple action. Where Bella and Narcissa had purely aristocratic features, the only real common ground between the beautiful Black Sisters and the pretty Muggle was the high-cheekbones. Where Narcissa's hair was uniformly blond, Jennifer had dirty blond hair, and features that were, while pretty, not of partially Scandinavian descent like the Black Sisters were.

She moved off him slowly, her hands rising to toss her hair over her shoulders. He sat back on the bed, his laconic grin fully indicating his interest in her slow, fluid movements. As Becka thrashed about on the wall in fury, tears of frustration streaking her cheeks, Jennifer shot Harry a sultry smile, entirely ignoring her daughter. Dancing to music only she could hear, she turned, hips swaying with a sensual rhythm, arms held high in the air, her fingers clasped. She sighed as she moved, the slight flush of arousal fading away as she immersed herself into the dance. Slowly, her arms descended, running over her breasts, then her abdomen, and then circling behind her body to stroke against her buttocks on their path down to her thighs. The fingers of her right hand gently stroked the daring slit that ran up the side of her dress, and she extended her leg slightly, causing the dress to pull taut against her form. The slit widened, revealing the creamy, soft skin of her upper thigh, and her gaze slowly moved from the exposed skin to Harry's eyes, her lips curling seductively.

In response, his member twitched, hardening slowly under the effects of the incredible visual stimulus. Then, her legs straightened again, once again covering the smooth skin, and her arms bent as her fingers brushed against the back of her dress. They found the clasp of the dress, undoing it to reveal the hidden zipper that ran down the length of her spine, Slowly, achingly so, she slid the zipper down, each second baring more skin. Her head turned sideways and she smirked at him over her shoulder, the slightly curled blond hair framing her attractive face. Then, the zipper reached the small of her back, and her arms rose again, fingering the straps that sat on her shoulders.

She shot him a glance through heavy lidded eyes, the seductive gleam in the blue orbs as evident as the hardness of her nipples. Then, in another achingly slow movement, she gently slipped the straps off her shoulders, slowly allowing the dress to fall to the floor. Her back was to him, but the view took his breath away. She possessed one of the most incredibly attractive asses he had ever seen, almost a rival for Tonks'. What made it look even better was the underwear she wore, a lacy pair of black panties that hugged the curve of her ass like a second skin, the opaque material that covered her more private regions fading into a transparent black lace that caressed the creamy, soft flesh of her cheeks. Fully aware of the effect she was having at him, she leaned forward slightly, causing her delectable rear end to be thrust towards him, his member stiffening entirely in response to the innocent movement. His eyes were flashing brightly with lust, the emerald orbs shining like lamps in the dead of night.

Slowly, he tore his gaze away from the celestial view in front of him, and with some hazy amusement and anticipation, noted the lusty gleam in Bellatrix's eyes as she stared at the Muggle's front. As if she were reading his mind, the Muggle danced again, slowly rotating her body towards him, filling his view with her small but perfectly formed breasts, the brown nipples hard. Harry's eyes gleamed, and he fought the urge to leap from the bed and fuck Jennifer senseless against the wall. His cock was incredibly hard, almost painfully so, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he ached to plunder that celestial ass.

The sexy smile still lingered on her lips as she danced, hips swaying in slow, rhythmic movements. Her eyes were closed, her breath shallow but steady, and with the sideways motion of her hips, she turned, arms extended outwards like a ballet dancer's. Harry's eyes slowly moved from the sexy underwear to her rounded hips, eyeing the narrow waist and flat abdomen, and eventually moving to her small, succulent breasts. His eyes drifted to the valley of her cleavage, noting the small, golden Crucifix that hung between her breasts on a thing golden chain. The simple adornment made Jennifer look even sexier, crowning the image with a slight flair that made his cock twitch in desire.

Still smiling, she had turned again, staring at him over her shoulder through her long eyelashes. Then her hands pressed against her hips, and she slowly moved them down the outsides of her thighs, bending at the waist as she did so. The gentle thrust of her rear towards him made him breathe sharply, and his eyes traveled down from her curved cheeks, skimming across the long, smooth legs, to find that her legs were crossed at the ankles. Gazing at him over her shoulder, she smirked invitingly, thumbs hooked into the band of her underwear. Her lips parted slightly, tongue emerging to lick at them, and in a painfully slow movement, she straightened her crossed legs and slid her underwear down, revealing inch by inch the few wonders that the lacy garment still covered.

He inhaled deeply, eyes wide in appreciation as his eyes slowly moved from the newly uncovered skin to the moist mound between her legs, her outer lips puckered and framed beautifully by her slender legs on either side. Smirking, her thumbs released the flimsy garment, allowing them to fall to the floor, pooled around her ankles. With her legs slightly parted, she stood upright again, hair cascading down her back as she looked over her shoulder. The cheeks of her ass unconsciously clenched, making him hiss as his cock leapt.

Jerking to life, he stood slowly, interrupting her dance. No doubt, the sinfully sexy lap dance that was sure to follow would have had him screaming for release, but he was far too preoccupied with fucking her senseless at the moment. Taking her hand, he graciously waited for her to step out of her lacy knickers, and lead her over to the bed. She sat down before him, hands rising to his waist, drawing him close to her. Her dainty fingers grasped his manhood, ignoring the slight moisture remaining from his romp with Bella, and he hissed at the touch, his cock jerking within her grasp. She laughed pleasantly, eyes dancing with mirth, though the lusty gleam nearly obscured all other emotions.

In slow, reverent movements, she suckled the head of his cock, licking along his shaft while gently gripping him, her free hand rising to stroke the clenched muscles of his abdomen. Harry's head rolled back, a sigh escaping his mouth as she worked on him, the fingers of his hand lacing into the hair at the back of her head. He smiled slightly as he felt Bella's arms wrap around him, her breasts pressing into his back, her lips kissing his shoulder blade. Then, she moved around him, sitting on the bed next to Jennifer and leaning in to press kisses to his lower abdomen and thighs. His hands moved, each gently gripping Bella and Jennifer's heads as they touched him. He gasped loudly, moaning out his pleasure in a strangled voice as Bella's lips moved to his scrotum, her tongue licking at him as her lips caressed his balls.

Jennifer smiled, licking his shaft a few times before she pressed it against his abdomen, her lips joining Bella's on his scrotum. Their tongues flirted shamelessly even as they caressed him, the massaging sensation coming from the way they suckled him making him gasp loudly. Then, detaching her lips, she gently pressed them around the head of his cock, her hand now working his length faster, with a sure, soft grip. Within seconds, aided by the slight suction on his balls and the comforting, arousing sensation of Jennifer's warm lips on the head of his cock, he came, groaning out his ecstasy as he showered the inside of Jennifer's mouth with his spunk, unloading a truly massive amount. With an expression of delight on her face, Jennifer swallowed his 'donation', stroking him to completion in a manner that suggested she wanted even /more/. Grinning slyly at her engrossed, expectant expression, he satisfied her, erupting once again to unload yet another flood of semen into her mouth.

Bellatrix smirked at him, mouthing 'machine', which he grinned at. A gentle pull of his hand made Jennifer stand, and she immediately moved to wrap her arms around him, her lips sucking on his skin to leave the beginnings of small, delicate love-bites. Seeing that he was unlikely to detach this orally-gifted beauty from himself, he motioned to Bella, who smirked knowingly. The second she had seen the lusty glint in his eyes as they were fixated on the Muggle's ass, she knew what was to follow, having read his mind immediately.

Moving towards the chair, she found her wand, and with a few waves, had floated Becka to the bed, restraining her wrists to the headboard and parted her legs, tying her ankles to the sides of the bed. Becka looked at her in humiliated confusion as her crotch was bared, but then a glimmer of understanding entered her eyes. Frantically, she screamed, finding that her voice had returned to her, fighting fruitlessly against the delicate, invisible binds that held her. She fought fitfully, yet all that her troubles yielded was exhaustion and a slightly sore throat.

Harry smirked at her over her mother's shoulder, Jennifer still occupied with stroking and kissing his body, making no small show of her appreciation for his musculature.

Leaning in, Harry stared at Becka while whispering into Jennifer's ear, his eyes smoldering with lust. "Jennifer, sweetheart," he whispered, his hands cupping her rear, "why don't you show your darling daughter how much you love her?"

"How do you mean?" asked Jennifer, smirking at him, her mind lost in a maelstrom of passion.

Knowing that the question was rhetorical, Harry still held on to Jennifer, whispering "She's a virgin, sweetheart. We can't have that, now can we? Why don't you make her nice and ready for me, and then we can make this the best night of her life, okay?"

Jennifer trembled, a mixture of pleasure and excitement entering her eyes. "Will you fuck me?" she asked, looking into his eyes, "Will you fuck me while I fuck her?"

Harry gazed at her adoringly, inwardly wondering what psychological trauma these ardent words would later cause the woman, and whispered "Of course, sweetheart. I love you, Jennifer...I love Becka too, but she's feeling a bit under the weather, so don't pay any attention to her, okay? This is the only way to make her feel better, and I'd like for her to feel good again. You want me to be happy, right?"

Jennifer melted into his arms, smiling broadly as she kissed him. "I love you too, Harry. I love you so much. Of course, I always want you to be happy, darling. I love Becka too...so let's make her better. Come on, Harry, I've always wanted to try this."

There probably wasn't a shred of truth in the whole statement, but Harry didn't care. Right now, he was interested only in seeing this sexy muggle fuck her daughter while he fucked /her/.

Grinning, he released her, giving her one last kiss, a lingering slow kiss that caressed her warm, soft lips. It was too bad, he thought, that she'd be broken...the trauma would eventually hit her when he left to do other things, and he doubted that she could survive it with her mind completely intact. A pity...she had worked some incredible wonders with that mouth of hers, and it would be sad to let her go like that. With boundless enthusiasm, Jennifer moved towards the bed, circling around it predatorily as if she were ascertaining the best way to go about her new task.

Bella moved to Harry's side as he watched, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into his powerful embrace, smiling as his lips kissed her forehead. "She was good, wasn't she?" she asked, her cheek resting against his chest.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her lips. "She doesn't have the animal ferocity that you do, Bella, but yes, she was remarkably talented with her mouth."

She smiled. "My 'animal ferocity' turns you on?" she asked, eyes glinting lustily.

His response was growled out as he cupped her ass, pulling her against him tightly. "Bella, there is nothing about that fails to turn me on. You're easily the sexiest person that I've ever seen, and I thought that even before you went through the Ritual."

She grinned at him, pleased with the compliment, and he laughed happily at the fact that she made no false gestures, showed no false humility. She liked it, and it was entirely in her character to take the compliment and be arrogant about the praise. He kissed her soundly, arms rising to wrap around her body tightly, lips pressing against hers with a slightly subdued urgency, though the passion in the kiss wasn't lost. Pulling back, he looked her in the eye, saying "That would have been something, huh? If after you killed Sirius, I just jumped you and fucked you senseless right against the arch of the Veil?"

She smirked, biting his lip and softly replying "That certainly would have been /something/, darling...I wish you had, I would have come away with you much sooner."

He laughed in response, kissing the tip of her nose. "Bella, tomorrow morning, we're getting out of here. Narcy and Tonks should be back in a little bit, and I'll tell you exactly what we'll do."

Instead of questioning him, arguing or getting worried, she simply nodded, squeezing his ass and naughtily whispering "You have to.../take care/ of the Muggles first, Master."

He grinned at her, muttering "I'm waiting for the older one to decide exactly how she wants to fuck her daughter, Bella. She's been staring at the girl for a minute now while masturbating."

Bella's head whipped to the side, and she fought off laughter as she saw Jennifer doing exactly what Harry had said she was, with one small difference. She was crouched on top of Becka, her fingers furiously rubbing against her pussy a mere two inches from her daughter's anguished face. Every few seconds, Jennifer would let loose a moan, her fingers leaving her pussy to move to her own mouth, where she licked them with great care.

Turning to Harry, she said "You know, if you'd like to, you can keep them. Narcissa is extremely skilled with Memory Charms and the Imperius Curse...it would be child's play to keep them in your control, if you wanted."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Interesting," was his only response, his mind considering the possibilities. While having Jennifer and her talented mouth around would certainly be great, Becka served a single purpose: to be fucked senseless, and have her innocence taken by him. If the girl proved worthwhile, she could be kept too, but he was fairly sure that he would find no use for her.

"Or," Bella said, a slight sparkle in her eyes, "you could give them to my niece as slaves. I have Narcissa, myself, but I wouldn't use her for some of the more.../humiliating/ jobs that I could think of. I could use the younger one. Tonks could keep the older one, Master, and see if that talented mouth of hers is equally versatile when applied to a woman."

Harry laughed. "I'm sure," he said dryly, "that we will see if that is the case soon enough. She looks to be about ready to get around to fucking her daughter now. But the idea has merit, and I would like to give Tonks a slave, too. Of course, I could simply make them mine, but where's the fun in that?" He smirked, receiving a smirk in return from Bella.

Kissing him gently, she whispered "I think its time you told this woman to hurry things about...from the feel of your cock pressing against me, I'd say you need her to solve your problem pretty quickly."

He laughed, looking down to see his erect member throbbing between Bella's legs, his shaft brushing against her sex. "Huh," he muttered amusedly, his eyes sparkling. Smiling at him lovingly, she kissed him, and pushed him towards the bed.

Walking to Jennifer, he lifted her bodily, hands grabbing her hips, and moved the panting woman between her daughter's legs. Amusedly, he noted that Jennifer hadn't stopped fingering herself...if anything, the pace of her actions had multiplied. She was on all fours, her face hovering over her daughter's navel, eyes closed in ecstasy as she touched her most sensitive spots.

Moving onto the bed next to her, he gently eased Jennifer's face down, whispering "Look, sweetheart. Look at your lovely daughter...she's wetter than you are. But she can't touch herself, Jennifer. I think you should help her out, don't you?"

She nodded fervently, eyes fixated on her daughter's moist folds. Her hands left her crotch, rising to stroke her daughter's thighs, inching ever closer to the source of her wetness. Nervously, she ran her tongue over her lips, moistening the pink flesh, and pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter's snatch. Becka screamed, her frustration becoming increasingly evident through the un-stemmed flow of tears that streaked her cheeks.

Harry simply smirked, caressing Jennifer's back as the Muggle tentatively licked her daughter's pussy, eliciting a helpless groan of pleasure, though the sound was lost in the flood of tears that emerged at the action. Her right hand moved forward, skimming across Becka's milky thigh to gently brush against her clit. Then, pressing the tips of her index and middle fingers on either side of her daughter's pussy, she spread Becka's mound, causing her inner lips to emerge in the fashion of a blooming flower.

Harry stared at the sight, entranced, as Jennifer slowly ran her tongue over the folds, ending the motion with a flick of her tongue across Becka's clit. Then, she began attacking with gusto, gently sliding the index finger of her left hand into her daughter, while pressing her lips around her clit, her tongue bathing the sensitive bud of flesh with saliva.

Becka's cries slowly turned from frustration to shameful pleasure as she experienced a wonder that she had never felt before. Smirking, Harry continued running his hands over Jennifer's body, pinching her nipples, caressing her ass and dragging his nails across her flawless skin. Growing tired of the foreplay, he let the two women continue, moving behind Jennifer, his throbbing cock rock hard and pointing right at Jennifer's ass. He felt Bella's hand slip his wand into his, and was dimly aware of casting the lubrication charm on Jennifer's bung, causing the Muggle to gasp in pleasure as a cool fluid coated her anus, cleaning her hole simultaneously.

In a slow, arduous movement, he pressed the head of his cock against her, gently pushing in inch by inch. With each minute movement, Jennifer screamed, unable to move. The tightness of her anus was driving him crazy, encircling and enveloping his member entirely, squeezing against every inch of his cock. Jennifer had given up on her daughter for the moment, her eyes pressed shut as her face was forced against her daughter's pussy, the fluid unconsciously being smeared across her lips. When he bottomed out inside her, Harry paused, reaching down to grab a fistful of Jennifer's hair.

Leaning in, he whispered "Fuck her with your tongue, Jennifer, make her come. Make her orgasm harder than she ever has before."

Moaning as his cock moved slightly within her, she screamed out her compliance. Laughing, he made no move to release his grip on her hair, starting to gently rock against the muggle as he forced her face back down. With each thrust, Jennifer found her attempts squashed, the deft movements of her tongue against her daughter's clit being muffled as the thrusts invariably smashed her lips against her daughter's pussy. Slightly frustrated, she decided to make the best of things, extending her tongue out of her mouth and holding it as rigid as possible, thereby spearing in and out of her daughter's pussy with each thrust, eliciting screams of pleasure from the nubile young Muggle. Using some amount of creativity, the Muggle tried to adapt to Harry's thrusts, flicking her tongue upwards and over her daughter's hooded clit to make her daughter screech as the sudden pleasure overwhelmed her senses, causing her to climax loudly with a throaty scream emerging from her throat.

Harry was in heaven, buried in the Muggle's tight, warm hole, feeling her clench around him with each thrust. Panting, he released Jennifer's hair, and grabbed her hips tightly, using his new grip to piston himself forwards and backwards, plunging in and out of her with renewed gusto. Twice, in quick succession, Jennifer orgasmed, the pleasure sending tremors through her body, giving a spasm around his hardened length that served to simultaneously increase his pleasure.

With a great shuddering sigh, he released himself within her, feeling his cock drain his cum into her hole. Nearly collapsing against Jennifer, he slumped on her back, pressing his chest against the gentle curve of her spine, feeling the smooth skin against his chest. She was moaning softly, head hanging slightly, having risen on her arms to allow him to plow even further into her. Gently, he kissed the nape of her neck, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he gently brought them down from the shattering climax. In their furor, they nearly missed Becka's climax, the sharp cry of her orgasm nearly lost amongst the sounds of their rutting and panting.

Smirking at Becka over her mother's shoulder, Harry whispered "Did you like that, Becka? Did you like the feel of your mother's lips and tongue on you? Inside you?" His dark smirk made her shudder, a tear slipping out even as the flush of shame spread across her body. Extending his arm out, he placed it on her breast, gently massaging it, his thumb brushing against her nipple. She fought against him, but he quieted her with a look.

Slowly, he slipped his cock out of Jennifer, who moaned in loss, making him laugh. He slapped her ass playfully as he moved away from her, approaching her daughter.

"I just fucked your mother, Becka. Look at her," he whispered into her ear, watching her eyes obediently settle on Jennifer's flushed, sated face, "See how happy she is? I'm going to keep your mother, Becka, because she can do some incredible things with her tongue, and she has one of the nicest asses I've ever seen. Did you realize that I was sodomizing her?"

Becka's eyes widened in shock, her head snapping sideways to stare at him. He laughed. "Of course I did...don't look at me like that. She's got a perfect ass...I had to fuck her."

Laughing at her expression, he moved, motioning for Jennifer to move sideways. Almost reading his mind, the older Muggle straddled her daughter's left leg, rubbing her moist slit along her daughter's knee, moaning softly against Becka's lower abdomen. Becka wept for her mother's lost innocence, her naivety not allowing her to realize that it had been lost a long time ago.

Harry laughed, knowing exactly what Becka was thinking, and finding the foolishness of her naivety amusing. He crouched where Jennifer had been just a few seconds ago, lips poised above Becka's pussy. The slightly pungent aroma of her juices wafted into his nose, twisting his senses and arousing him again. He pressed a gentle kiss to Becka's crotch, his hand patting her thigh comfortingly.

"Becka," he crooned softly, staring at her with expressive, loving eyes, "please. Let me love you, Becka...I want to make you happy, sweetheart."

She stared at him, entranced by the expressiveness of his eyes, captivated by the gaze that held hers. She had never before seen such a vibrant color, never before noted the danger and the love that simultaneously emerged from a living being. She was flummoxed by the extent of what this man was, flummoxed by the power that his simple words held over her.

Entirely intending to scream out her denial, she found herself nodding instead. "Love me," she whispered brokenly, gazing at him through bright blue eyes that spoke of a world of sadness.

Two months ago, Harry Potter would have melted at the look in her eye, and would have taken her into his arms to comfort her. He would have lavished her with his love, and would have gone out of his way to make her happy, even at the expense of his own wellbeing.

That Harry Potter would never have found his way into this situation, not even by accident.

This Harry Potter simply smiled, a false expression of relief entering his eyes. This Harry Potter fully knew the power that he held over women, and fully knew that he did not even have to exert his awesome power to woo this slip of a Muggle. This Harry Potter would take complete advantage of the situation he had quite intentionally put himself into.

Sliding up the length of her body, he paused above her, looking into her eyes with false love, emoting a million positive emotions that entirely captivated her. She could feel his body pressing against hers, her rock hard nipples brushing against his muscular chest, the feel of his thighs against the milky insides of her own...it all served to make her wetter, trapped inside this nightmare-turned-fantasy. Her Prince had come at last, and he was here to love her, to comfort and protect her. He was here to treat her like a goddess among women.

Her 'Prince' laughed inwardly, mocking the girl even as he gazed at her in false admiration. Of course, the girl was beautiful...the smooth, unblemished skin was extremely rare amongst hormonal teenagers, and the innocent beauty of her face served to make her bodily charms even more attractive. Yet, it had taken nothing to woo her. He had just sodomized her mother in front of her, forced her mother to rape her, and had tied her up. She was still restrained, but that didn't matter any more. He had not used his aura on her to make her agreeable...a simple look of love had turned her nightmare into a fantasy.

A wave of his hand released the binds that held her to the bed, and he gently took her into his arms, gazing at her with loving adoration. She smiled at him through her tears, gazing upon the perfection that was her Prince. He rolled them over so that she was lying on top of him, his arms holding her to his chest, a sense of security and peace enveloping them. She was dimly aware of her mother being led away from the bed by the Goddess who had touched her Prince earlier, but focused on Harry instead.

She smiled shyly at him, cheeks tinged with red, and blushed brightly as his thumbs rose to wipe away her tears. Shyly, she kissed him, a light peck on the lips. He smiled back, and then kissed her the way she had always wanted to be kissed. His lips gently pressed against hers, the warm flesh massaging her lips slowly, the lingering touch of his fingers on her naked hips sending small tremors through her. His upper lip moved down, sucking slightly on her lower lip as he pulled gently, easing her mouth open. His tongue searched for hers, finding it instantly, something that made her feel that this was a perfect match. Unlike she had expected, the sensation of his tongue on hers wasn't a slimy, disgusting sensation, but was a warm, comforting one, erasing her fears and allowing her to melt further into his embrace.

When she drew away, her eyes were still closed, savoring the gentle touch of his lips. They opened, a smile appearing on her face as she saw him stare at her lovingly, fondly cupping her cheeks.

"I love you, Harry," she whispered softly, a happy, contented smile on her face, "we were meant for each other."

She closed her eyes again, lips still curved into a brilliant smile, waiting for the kiss that never came. Slightly confused, she opened her eyes, only to see him smirk at her darkly.

"Oh yes," he whispered, "you certainly do love me." She was a bit disappointed, since he had not echoed her love for him, had not reciprocated the sentiment.

She began to say something, a bit uneasy about the smirk on his face, when he roughly rolled them over, pinning her arms above her head, his thighs spreading hers easily. He gazed into her eyes, still smirking, and whispered "Will you still love me after this?"

The question confused her until she realized what the hot sensation between her thighs was. Her eyes shot wide open in terror as she screamed, but it was muffled by his lips pressing against hers in a needy kiss even as he slammed home, uncaring for her maidenhead. In a savage plunge, he had positioned the head of his cock at her soft lips, and in one strong movement, bucked his hips forward, violating her and breaking through her maidenhead. She screamed in pain, unprepared for the savage attack, arms fighting against him in vain.

Tearing his lips away from hers, he laughed wickedly, a sound that echoed in the room, and without pause for her pain, continued plunging his member in and out of her. She screamed, she fought, she bit and she flailed, but her movements only seemed to excite him further as his thrusts moved to a feverish pace, slamming in and out of her with abandon. She was tight, hot, wet...it was heaven for him, a heaven that he had stolen and spoiled in the matter of a few seconds. She was screaming, trying to ignore the pleasure that had begun slamming into her nerve centers. Again, it was in vain, as her screams were interspersed with moans and cries of pleasure that grew increasingly frequent.

He prided himself in being a skilled lover, and his skill easily met her challenge that night, taking her through a whirlwind three orgasms before he succumbed to the pleasure and lost himself within her, thrusting in deeply to push his seed deep into her womb. When he moved off her, eyes no longer bearing the caring light that she had 'fallen for'; he simply gazed at her impassively before turning away.

Broken and bleeding from where his innumerable 'love bites' had pierced the skin on her neck and breasts, she lay crying, her crotch raw and red, her wrists bruised by his crushing grip. Her lips were puffy, mauled by his rough, demanding kisses, her hair mussed by the constant pushes against the pillows. Her Prince had broken her, and the story did not end happily ever after.

Crushed in spirit though she was, she wanted him to love her. She wanted him to look at her the same way that he had before, to hold her like he had before. And broken, she knew...she would do anything to have him touch her again. The neutral look in his eyes after he was finished with her had made her wilt, unable to summon the vindictiveness that would rightly allow her to blame him for her current state. He had mauled her, but it was her fault, she thought. She had not loved him enough.

The Goddess...she did love him enough. Their slow, passionate lovemaking was a fitting example of this. He had loved her, had made love to her, in the way that she wanted. She had failed her Prince, and would do anything to make him love her again.

From across the room a cry of pleasure was heard as the Goddess climaxed, Jennifer's talented tongue causing a forceful orgasm in the dark haired woman. How she envied her, jealous of his love for her...how she desired that he would love her too, desired that he would want her as he wanted his Goddess.

That night, Harry lay nestled between Bella and Tonks, Narcissa spooned against her niece. Jennifer lay on the rug on the ground, smiling happily in her sleep as she hugged her daughter to her naked body. Becka did not sleep that night, nor did she sleep much in the week following that eventful night. Her master, the master she had taken of her own volition, had pinned her to the wall that night and had told her what she needed to do to please him. And please him, she would.


************************* ************************ **************


Fleur Delacour stumbled into the kitchen, bleary eyed. Pausing, she placed her hands on the back of one of the ornate chairs, turning her back to receive a satisfying pop as a crick was released. Letting out a sigh, which quickly turned into a yawn, she made her way over to the stove, waving her wand in a half-hearted manner.

While the coffee made itself, she slumped into a chair, dragging it near the stove and putting her head down on the countertop. The odd whistle of steam served to wake her out of the slumber that threatened to capture her mind once again, and she was partly grateful and partly hateful of the rejuvenating sound. At last, the coffee was done, and sitting back in her chair, she let the smell of the newly ground beans waft into nose, a slight smile lighting up her beautiful face.

Her silken nightgown clung to her body, her ample bosom stretching the fabric over her chest. She sat back, holding the cup, slowly feeling the fatigue leave her body.

The past day and a half had been terrible for her, a nearly consecutive 36 hours of relentless hunting. Luckily she had been able to steal a nap between shifts, but the scant two hours had done little for her tired body. Harry Potter had gone missing, and he had caused her to miss out on her sleep, something that irritated Fleur to no extent. She hated missing her beauty sleep.

Half-heartedly, she resolved herself to beating some sense into the boy when the Order finally found him. For now, she was stuck in this dreary old house, and was set to spend the next twelve hours in Diagon Alley, fruitlessly combing the shopping district for a boy who would fade into the crowd easier than she could spot him. Tonks was due to arrive back, and they would take the shift together. That, perhaps, was the only thing that lifted her spirits, for the happy-go-lucky Auror was her closest friend outside France.

She wondered why the effort was needed, and why Diagon Alley of all places was expected to give results in the search. From what she knew, Harry's house had been a literal bloodbath, with the scant, messy remains of his relatives liberally coating the walls of the all-too-perfect house. Obviously, Tu-Sais-Qui/ /(You-Know-Who) had captured the young hero...that was something that certainly did not bode well for the Order. As far as Dumbledore was concerned, finding Harry was more crucial than any other objective. A Muggle town had been attacked last night, with many residents being murdered, and more being kidnapped by the Death Eaters. Dumbledore had immediately forbade the Order from trying to control the damage, leaving it to the Aurors.

As he said it, "The Aurors can handle the situation there, my friends. Right now, our main objective is to find Harry." /This she could not understand. How could Harry be that needed? She understood that the psychological damage of seeing the Boy-Who-Lived dead would be a tremendous blow to the Wizarding World. After all, Harry had beat him the last time...if he was killed by the Dark Lord, it stood to reason that /Tu-Sais-Qui was even more powerful than he was fifteen years ago. Dumbledore confused her...he was quite obviously intelligent, yet some of his decisions simply reeked of stupidity even to someone as inexperienced in tactical warfare as her. He chose the path of non-confrontation, choosing to act as a 'clean-up crew', in Tonks' words. She could not understand why...a man of his power and knowledge could easily decimate the raiding bands of Death Eaters that beset the poor Muggle towns who suffered at their hands. Yet, he did nothing, sending his mostly-inexperienced band of do-gooders in at the end of an attack, allowing them to make feeble attempts at capturing Death Eaters. She sighed...there was no point questioning his actions. The Order was so fanatically loyal to him that his decisions were accepted without pause for rational thought.

That bastard Snape was missing...most likely, the greasy, ugly man had 'switched' sides once again. Fleur, personally, thought the man had never truly worked for the Light. During her stay at Hogwarts, the man had been a terror for the French girls. His students regularly taunted and harassed Fleur and her classmates, making lewd remarks and sometimes going so far as to 'cop a feel', as the British said. And their complaints fell on deaf ears, for Snape had vindictively sneered at the girls, denying all allegations and muttering 'Tarts, trollops, whores,' under his breath when he thought they couldn't hear him. Frankly, Fleur hated the man, and quite ardently hoped that his blood was also in the house.

Ah, yes...the house. The term 'bloodbath' was rather an understatement. Hestia Jones was dead outside the house. There was no way of telling when the attack had happened, for Hestia's shift began at 6 PM and went until 6 AM, when the body was discovered. The two males had been butchered, and the female had been raped and then torn apart. From the various puddles of blood in the house, not only Harry and his 'family' been tortured, but a Death Eater or two had also lost their lives. Rabastan Lestrange was found in the hallway outside Harry's room, a massive chunk missing from his chest. From her quick scan, he had only been hit with one curse: the killing curse. Yet, his body had a hole of massive proportions in it. She supposed that it must have been the Dark Lord, casting the curse at either Harry or one of his relatives. The victim must have scrambled out of the way, and the friendly-fire had struck Lestrange.

She shuddered, thinking of the power that must have been behind the spell for it to have produced a physical manifestation. Then, some of Rudolphus Lestrange's blood had been found on the splintered end of a chair leg. When the identifying charm was used on the blood, the name it revealed had sent a cheer through the veterans of the First War, Moody in particular looking grimly satisfied. Had Snape been injured in the fight, he certainly would have erased the evidence of his presence, lest the Order find out.

Tonks had, unusually, been quite relaxed about the whole thing, which was curious. Her friendship with Tonks had revealed early on that she harbored a massive crush on Harry, and she had quite frankly told Fleur that she was in love with him. Fleur supposed that she should have been a bit more conservative about the issue of the twenty-two year old Auror's love for a minor, but she understood the fixation, to some extent. Harry /was/, after all, a very handsome boy, and those vibrant green eyes of his had on many occasions taken Fleur's breath away. After getting to know him better, Fleur had even considered making a play for him, since the age difference between them was a scant three years. But partly out of loyalty to Tonks, and partly out of loyalty to Bill, she had refrained. Harry, to this day, was the only man within twenty years of her age to be able to resist her charm. Snape could, but she hardly considered him a man. Harry's friend, Bill's youngest brother...he was a travesty. When she entered a room, he went cross eyed, and began encroaching on her personal space, reaching for things across from her for an excuse to brush against her arm.

But she was with Bill, and that was all that mattered. Her /relationship with Bill was similar to Tonks' feelings for Harry, since he was a good seven years older than she was. At times, she felt a bit disgusted with the idea, but she let it go, knowing that she was unlikely to find a man who could look past her beauty. Bill, too, easily succumbed to it, but the man had a more rational mind than most, and for the most part, was able to keep his urges to a minimum. Fleur was actually hesitant about kissing him, for it led to Bill going wild, and getting a little too personal for her tastes. Hopefully, Bill wouldn't keep pressing the issue of sex...she had had to explain countless times that the virginity of a Veela was a treasured virtue, one that wasn't given away lightly. It bound the Veela to the man who broke her maidenhead...so she wanted to be /completely sure that Bill was the right man for her before giving him her most treasured possession. While it would not enslave her to him, she would be bound to him for the rest of her life. She would be unable to sexually interact with another man, would be unable to 'divorce' him or destroy the bond if he became rageful and violent, and would be forced into a marriage with him.

Rape was a Veela's most vivid, terrifying nightmare.

She shivered in disgust. She had always disliked red hair and freckles...they just made a man look unattractive, in her opinion. Bill was different...his hair was dark, nearly brown, and he didn't have freckles. The other Weasleys...it looked like a disease had struck them, turning their hair an awful color and smattering the pockmarks across their faces, arms and chests. Perhaps Molly and Arthur Weasley were closely related...she could only imagine that a travesty like incest would lead to a troop of children like theirs. She was being overly harsh, but their reactions to her were getting increasingly irritating. The youngest Weasley, the girl, glared at her at all points of the day, and in an exhibition of truly witty humor, had oh-so-privately nicknamed her 'Phlegm'. Fleur, of course, responded to the glares with a look of pity...the girl would be lucky if she could pay a man to come within an arm's reach of her, much less sleep with her.

The Twins weren't around much, since they seemed fixated on their childish obsession with Pranks. They were making a healthy amount of money catering to little children. Yet, their infrequent meetings with Fleur resulted in a slightly muted replica of their younger brother's actions, gazing at her lustily and trying to out-do each other at all times to win her favor. Percy she had never met, except for a short chat during the Tournament. He had been so uppity that she had become instantly disgusted by him, moving away and leaving the idiot gaping. Charlie was supposed to be a 'good chap' according to Tonks, but she confided in her that he was a possessive lunatic when it came to his relationships. She decided that she would be better off not encountering the last, uncharted member of this odd family. The parents were alright, she supposed, but Molly was a domineering, irritating wench when it came to authority, presuming to have the right to tell people what to do. She incessantly mothered people, and talked to Fleur haltingly, as if simple English words would befuddle the 'poor French girl'. The husband was something of a crackpot, and Fleur honestly had no idea why the two of them were in the Order. They brought nothing to the table, since his security clearance at the Ministry was as low as the wand-weigher's, if not lower. The wife couldn't duel, and spent her time setting up shop in this dreary old house, forcing the children to renovate it piece by rotting piece.

She sighed, letting go of the train of thought. It did her no good to muse on such thoughts.

Draining the cup of its last contents, she washed it out, setting it on the counter to provoke the Weasley woman. The wet ring made by the cup would annoy her to no end, and Fleur took some perverse pleasure out of it.

Turning to leave the room, she screamed in shock as a loud POP shook the room. Instantly, the table broke, splinters flying everywhere. She shielded her eyes with her left arm, her right hand brandishing her wand at the cloud of dust threateningly. From amidst the debris, a low moan of pain emerged, and she moved into the shadow, waving her wand to clear the dust.

What she saw made her scream again, setting off the portrait in the Entrance Hall.

Harry Potter...a naked/, /gorgeous/, Harry Potter, lay in the middle of the mess, splinters and chunks of half-rotted wood strewn around him. His body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, lacerated with cuts all over the place, save for his face, which simply bore a deep gash on one cheek. He clutched a body in his arms.../no! It stirred...it was alive!

Slightly dazed, all she could do was gape, her eyes roving over musculature that seemed so perfect/, so sculpted. Tonks had told her that he had put on weight and had grown a lot in the past two months, but this was ridiculous! Her eyes moved down his form, pausing in disbelief at his crotch. Despite herself, Fleur salivated at the sight, thinking thoughts that were /grossly inappropriate, considering the moment.

Then he moaned out "Help..." in a broken voice, his arm twitching in pain. Perspiration beaded his forehead and put a fine sheen on his tanned, muscular body, and Fleur had to focus on the moment to avoid thinking, and perhaps doing things that were best left to the deepest reaches of her imagination.

Snapping to attention, she sprinted forward, hearing the thundering of footsteps on the stairs. Thinking fast, Fleur waved her wand, conjuring a robe for Harry. In a few seconds, she moved the other body away from him and gingerly helped him into the robe, tying the sash around his waist just as the door burst open, startling her despite the thundering noise of the approaching footsteps.

It was the youngest Weasley, Tonks bursting in right after her.

"What did you do?!" the girl snarled at her, spitting venom.

Fleur gazed at her placidly as she cast a pain-relieving charm on Harry. The other body, a woman, going by the lustrous black hair, groaned in pain, shivering in the manner that was common amongst those that had been exposed to the Cruciatus curse. Quickly, Fleur cast another pain-relieving charm on her, rewarded by the easing of her breath.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" she spat again, this time feebly producing a wand and pointing it at Fleur.

Tonks, irritated, lashed out with her hand, knocking the wand to the ground, where it rolled into the debris of the table.

"Shut up, little girl!" Fleur snarled, taking Ginny aback with the anger in her voice. "Go and fetch your mother!"

Like a dog with its tail tucked between her legs, the girl collected her wand and left the room, looking somewhat frightened by Fleur's outburst.

"What happened, Fleur?" asked Tonks, looking concerned as she approached them. Just as Fleur began to reply, Tonks paled. "Harry? HARRY!" she screamed, dashing over. Kneeling on the floor next to a semi-delirious Harry, she cradled his head in her lap, cupping his cheeks lovingly as she sobbed in relief.

"Oh god, Harry, I thought I lost you," she wept, hugging his limp body to hers, her cheek touching his own unshaven one. Fleur moved away slightly, somewhat embarrassed by her friend's emotions, giving the two of them the space they needed.

Through the cuts and the pain, Harry smiled, his body trembling slightly. His fingers rose slightly to touch her hand, a weak motion that made Tonks sob even more.

"What did they do to you, Harry?" she whispered brokenly, holding him tightly, comforting herself with the sensation of his body in her arms.

He murmured something inaudible and she strained to hear it. Through eyes that were slightly opened, he saw her miss his words, and whispered slightly louder this time. "I came back to you, Tonks," he whispered weakly, his voice fading with the effort. His whisper was hoarse, and Fleur trembled slightly, knowing that his throat was probably raw due to the screams elicited by the Cruciatus. Her respect for Harry grew, her previous joking resolve to smack him for causing her to miss her sleep going forgotten.

Tonks was crying freely now, holding him tightly, rocking as she gripped him.

Earlier, Fleur had thought of jokingly telling Tonks /'I saw Harry naked!'/...now it didn't seem like such a good idea. She really did love him, and she envied her friend the depth of that emotion, wishing that she had someone who she could love that much.

The door burst open again, the kitchen filling with bodies as the Order entered. Molly stormed over, and upon noticing that it was Harry in Tonks' arms, tried to wrench his body away from her. She was met with a fist to the face from a sobbing Tonks, falling flat on her ass with a gobsmacked expression on her face at the action.

"TONKS!" she screamed, "Let go of him! Look at him, girl, he's covered in cuts and bruises! I'll fix him up, and you can talk to him later on!"

Fleur winced, both at the grating voice, and at the explosion that was sure to occur. Sure enough, Tonks looked over at Molly and screamed right back at her.

"OH SHUT UP, YOU MISERABLE OLD BITCH!" she screamed, the tears on her face making her look even more beautiful, "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!" Then, in a quieter voice, she said "Call Pomfrey."

Molly, aghast, said "I can handle it, Tonks, I've raised seven children! Now give him here!"

Tonks glared at her with hatred that took Fleur aback. "Listen, you cow! If your brats cut their knees, then you can patch them up. You are NOT touching Harry, d'you understand?! Call Pomfrey NOW! He's been under the Cruciatus...there's nothing you can do to help that! I want a /licensed /Healer to work with my Harry, damn it, not some biddy in a nightgown with delusions of grandeur and a serious fucking Mothering Syndrome! Now go and GET HER!"

Chastised, Molly silently motioned to Ron, who sprinted over to the fireplace and made the call. Fleur was partly thankful...in the furor, he hadn't noticed her, for her certainly would have ignored the fact that his best friend lay broken on the floor in favor of hitting on her in a prepubescent, immature manner. Then her eyes landed on Ginny, and she frowned, looking at the star-struck expression on her face as she gaze with new hunger at Harry. She could understand the attraction...Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, despite the blood, but something about the look on her face rubbed her the wrong way.

She approached, kneeling next to Harry and moving to touch his arm. Tonks was preoccupied with whispering into Harry's ear. As Ginny made contact with Harry's hand, three things occurred in quick succession.

First, Harry looked up sharply, surprised by the sudden contact, and saw Ginny, his eyes going wide in fear. Second, his arm swung up fast, a marathon effort for someone as injured as he was, and struck Ginny in the face, sending her sprawling on the floor from where she was crouching. Third, Harry went deathly pale, rocking back and forth, tears pouring out of his eyes.

The room was shocked, except for Tonks, who continued to cradle Harry against her chest, still crying freely and hugging him. The Weasley brothers looked like they wanted to hit Harry regardless of the fact that he was injured. With some distaste, Fleur saw that Bill was amongst those who were glaring at Harry. Ginny was crying, hugging her mother, and nursing a split lip. Hermione stood with them, disheveled, looking torn between shouting at Harry and wondering why it happened.

A dozen voices began clamoring, all demanding to know why he did that.

A dozen people jumped in shock as the answer came...not from Harry, but from the person that he had brought with him. A pained, broken voice slowly said "H-He...doesn't...want...to be...touched...by males."

Fleur nearly burst out laughing at the scandalized expression on Molly and Ginny's faces.

Again the voices rang out, screaming that Ginny was obviously a girl, something that Fleur would have wittily disagreed with, were she inclined to speak at the moment. They demanded to know why Harry didn't want to be touched by males, screaming about how they would be unable to carry him up the stairs. Fleur nearly snorted...the idiots were so quick to dismiss magic.

A wheezing laugh emerged from the slumped person as she said "H-He must...think...she is...a man...Harry...was nearly...raped...by a...Death Eater."

There was pin-drop silence as everyone stared from the slumped woman to Harry. No one said a word for nearly a full minute, the silence interrupted only by Harry's harsh breathing.

Then Ron, who had returned from calling Madam Pomfrey, bravely asked "Who are you?"

Harry was still holding on to the woman, his arm tightly grasping hers even though his body was weakening. There was no answer, for the woman had fainted. Then, Harry spoke, and pandemonium reigned in umber 12, Grimmauld Place.

With great effort, he fought to make his words heard by all. "This is Bellatrix Black," he whispered, "don't hurt her. She's innocent...she helped me at the cost of her own life."

Then, Harry Potter fainted in Tonks' arms, his head lolling to the side to rest against her chest.

Pandemonium reigned in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

************* **************** ****************

Well. Here it is...the update.

Thanks for the reviews, I'm extremely humbled by the way this fic has been received.

I'm beginning to really enjoy writing this fic, and it's a pity in some ways, because I've been focusing on it more than Chimera now. I was away for a while, which is why this chapter took so long in coming out. Apologies for that.

Once again, thanks to CJ Cold, who helped beta this chapter and give me some excellent ideas. CJ: Your help has been invaluable, and I'm very thankful for it.

READ AND REVIEW! :D

-Apocalypso