FicWad

Harry Potter and the Harem of Honeys

Chapter Four

And trouble

On Thursday the thirty-first of October Hermione fled as the tears broke over her bottom lids and flowed down her cheeks. Harry shot a burning glare and a grimace at Ron Weasley, leaving Ron to withdraw into himself. Harry sped up, following Hermione into the girls' loo. He looked at her twisting and trying to suppress her tears and sighed. He stepped in, took her into his arms, and she dissolved into tears. Harry backed into a stall and sat down on the toilet, pulling the distraught Hermione into his lap. He held her as her sobs wound down to sniffles.

When she had mostly stopped, Harry tilted her head up and kissed her tears away. Hermione protested at first and then was silenced by a burning kiss. She sat, stunned, with her arms twined around Harry's neck and let him do as he pleased to her, not that he wasn't pleasing her, too.

Harry's warm hands wandered under her shirt and camisole, hypnotizing Hermione, and she squirmed around to bring them from her back to her belly. Harry smiled and kissed her hair as his hands wandered up and over her growing breasts and hard nipples. "No bra, Ne?"

Hermione blushed. "Do you want me to wear one?"

Harry's hands stopped. "Ne, I want you to do what you want."

Hermione turned back around until she was straddling Harry and pushed him back into the wall, locking her lips on his and pushing her tongue into his mouth. Her panty-clad vulva rubbed the length of his very hard erection and she settled in firmly, grinding him hard. Harry kissed her back and laughed. Hermione withdrew and blushed. Harry tilted her head up again. "Ne?"

"You're laughing at me!"

"No, Ne. I didn't realize you were quite this much of a tiger, though."

"I've wanted you since the train, Harry." Hermione blushed furiously.

Harry chuckled. "Mmmm, how many times have I made you come so far?"

"Harry!" Hermione looked into his clear green eyes and smirked. "Twice a day religiously, five last Sunday—it rained, remember?"

"So I have a lot to live up to, to replace fantasy-Harry."

Hermione shook her head quickly and panted, "Not if those kisses are any guide."

Harry smiled and pulled her head down for another. Hermione ground herself down on his hardness and moaned. Harry deepened the kiss and pushed up with his hips, and Hermione shuddered in climax. Harry smiled, stood her up, and dragged the uncoordinated, flushing witch to their next class.

Moaning Myrtle had watched the whole thing, stunned into silence. Now she had blackmail material, and the other Boy Who Lived was going to pay, handsomely and with his warm cock. Myrtle giggled; no more stealing wet dreams for her.

Hermione leaned against Harry the whole way to class and nearly got them both a detention from the Professor for inappropriate behavior, as she simply had to be touching him while they sat through class. She finally settled for kicking off her shoe and twining her leg around his.

Class finally ended and Hermione pulled Harry into the first broom closet they passed. Ron watched in a rage. Lavender and Parvati pouted and giggled alternately. Lavender looked at Ron's red face. "It's always the brainy ones, huh, Ron?" Ron stomped away amidst giggles.

Lavender looked at Parvati. "She's going to shag him. She's been mooning over him since the train, and he's stood up for her time and again against Malfoy and Weasley."

Parvati nodded. "She's a Muggle-born and he's Muggle-raised. Too bad the Potters are rich. We lost that one."

Lavender pouted. "Rich? Who cares about that? We are magical, after all. He's damn powerful, though. If he comes in her belly one time, her magic will never let another in, I bet. I know mine wouldn't. Who says we've lost him? We just have to be nicer to Hermione."

Parvati nodded. "You know, we could work a multiple with her."

Lavender wrinkled her nose. "Uh-uh—not me, anyway. I'm not into witches, I just want a belly full of Potter every once in a while."

Parvati filed this fact away and led Lavender off by the arm.

In the broom closet Hermione pushed Harry against the wall and slid to her knees. Before Harry could protest she had his robes open and his hard cock in her mouth. "Ne!"

Hermione pulled back and looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. "It's my first time, Harry. Tell me how to do it better."

Harry blinked. "Uh, well, I don't know. I've never done this either."

"All those girls and you never…." Hermione smiled and took him in as far as she could. Harry groaned low in his throat and collapsed, halfway seated on the embrasure at the back of the closet. He lasted about a minute before he exploded in Hermione's mouth, and she hummed proudly and swallowed. Hermione stood, smiling, and was kissed and spun into the embrasure. She soon found cool air washing over her thighs as Harry pulled her robes and skirt up. He pulled her panties aside and buried his face in her sex. Hermione grunted and held Harry's head, gently steering him where she wanted him. Harry smiled and worked his tongue in long licks as Hermione showed him how to please her. She lasted no longer than he had, once he found her button and Hermione thrust into his face. Harry stood and locked his lips to hers and Hermione licked herself off his face. "Hey, I taste good!"

Harry grinned and nodded. "Yes, you do."

Hermione growled. "You do too, and no fair—now you're ahead again. Turn around and sit down."

Harry blinked. "It's not a contest, Ne." He slid back into the embrasure and pulled her into his lap and they cuddled and kissed in the afterglow.

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"You don't think I'm a slag, do you?"

Harry shook his head and kissed her again. "No. I've seen a few slags, Ne. You aren't one."

Hermione digested this. "Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"You said I was your first."

Harry barked a laugh. "First blowjob—and no, I haven't done it either, but the group had some couples when the girls got older. We knew they were having sex, and there wasn't much cover in the park. Kristine Conrad and Mark Fellows gave us all an education. They were like rabbits. I have snogged a few girls."

Hermione giggled. "And now we are." She stroked Harry's hard cock several times and curled around in his lap, taking him in her mouth again. Harry lasted a little longer this time, mainly because he was working a finger into Hermione and stroking in her in time with her licking and sucking on him.

They came together and Hermione sat up and pouted when she found Harry already licking his fingers clean. "Hey, share!"

Harry grinned and offered her his hand; she sucked his middle finger clean, then straightened his clothes as well as hers. Harry kissed her and she lay back in his arms, just in time.

The broom closet door opened and Fred poked his head in. "Oy, Harrikins, if you're through with bagging the brainy bird—"

George's head came round the corner. "—we have practice."

Neither Harry nor Hermione would ever have been able to say why, but they didn't even blush. They leapt up and joined the twins in the corridor.

Fred started. "Uh, you two do know—"

George continued, "—what normally goes on in—"

Fred finished, "—broom closets, don't you?"

Hermione and Harry turned up innocent faces and Hermione said, "Cuddling?"

Fred looked at George and they both nodded while thinking they would have to get one of the girls to talk to Hermione, and they would talk to Harry in private. Who would have thought it, at the tender age of eleven? Most wizards still thought witches had cooties at that age. Cuddling indeed! These two must think they were stupid. The Map had shown them right on top of each other, and it did that when a couple was making out. Although they had been cuddling when the door was opened and they weren't embarrassed at all. This bore watching.

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The Halloween feast was going very well when the idiot DADA instructor burst in and announced, "Troll in the dungeons!" and then fainted in the phoniest way Harry had ever seen. His girls could have acted better at two years old. Harry looked at the staff table and watched Dumbledore make his pronouncements in a completely over-the-top manner. He had to be gay, and a graduate of the James Tiberius Kirk school of over-acting—that idiot Quirrell, too.

Harry filed out with the other students, edgy and on guard. Why would you send students wandering over a castle when a beast was loose in it? Harry had wrapped one arm around Hermione and was comforting her, and himself too really, on the way back to the dorm. The older Gryffindor girls watched and smiled indulgently. Potter was gaga over Granger, and she just as much over him.

Angelina and Alicia saw the two and decided tonight was the night to talk to Hermione. If Fred and George's suspicions were right, she would end up bound unless she was careful. Hard to believe eleven-year-olds could be sexually active, but the Muggle-borns were getting more precocious every year; starting their periods earlier, too. It was a topic of conversation among the older witches. Some of the pure-blood girls still hadn't had their periods in fourth year, while most of the Muggle-borns had been dealing with it since before Hogwarts.

Harry was another story. Him being on the platform at King's Cross with fifteen crying Muggle girls from ages eight to eighteen was a shock. That each of them had frenched him goodbye was stunning. Harry Potter had a Muggle harem! The rumors had been flying ever since. All the wizards had been able to get out of him was that those girls were his family—but who frenches their sisters?

Katie Bell had provided some insight. Apparently there was a group of girls in Surrey who had been fighting constant battles with bullies in school and in their neighborhood. It had made the papers a few times in the last three years. Harry was apparently the enforcer for them. He certainly had Malfoy of the nine fingers cowed. Whenever Harry showed up, Malfoy shut up and withdrew into himself.

The group had reached the common room; Angelina and Alicia glanced at each other and pulled Hermione away. In their third year dorm they sat her down on Alicia's bed and stood in front of her. Angelina started. "Spill."

Hermione frowned at Angelina. "Spill what?"

Alicia grunted. "What were you doing in a broom closet with Harry Potter?"

Hermione snapped, "That's none of your business!"

Angelina sighed. "You shagged him, didn't you?"

Hermione leapt to her feet and was pushed back down. "No! And what we do is none of your business!"

Alicia grinned. "Thank God for small favors. So what did you do? Fred and George said the closet smelled like sex and you were lying on each other."

Hermione's cheeks flamed and she clammed up. Angelina narrowed her eyes. "Did he return the favor?"

"What?"

"Come on, Hermione, you blew him. Did he eat you?"

Hermione was angry now. "He masturbated me twice and I sucked him off once. He ate me once today too. There. Happy, Angelina? Got enough grist for the rumor mill now?"

Alicia sat next to the nearly crying Hermione. "Baby, it's not like that! We care about you. If you keep on you could end up bound to him, and if you aren't on the potion you'll be pregnant. Muggle birth control won't work for you. God, I can't believe you have a better sex life than I do. I'm supposed to be reaching my school peak and I haven't even blown anyone yet."

Hermione grinned proudly. "I know, and he nearly killed me giving me oral sex. I thought my skull was caving in! You could do it for Harry, I'm sure. I'll ask him if he'd like you to."

Angelina blinked. "Uh, Hermione, don't you want to keep him?"

Hermione blushed and smiled. "Oh, that won't be a problem. He loves me. He'll always be mine. We're happy to help all the witches, though, at least I think so. We can do a contract with you. Harry has all the Muggle girls in his neighborhood. They're a little odd though, they can see magic! He has this thing about defending and helping witches. Well, girls, really. Apparently he had a cousin that tried to bully girls in school—everyone, really—and Harry stopped him. It went on and on and Harry ended up putting his cousin, uncle, and aunt in hospital at various times, and now they leave him strictly alone. The girls from the platform are the girls he's helped; he protects them and they provide him with food and clothes. Harry has helped lots of them. He doesn't want to admit it, but they love him and…and, well, they express it too. I've seen some of his letters from them. You should see the photos they send. It made me nervous at first, but Harry speaks to me differently than he writes to them."

Angelina looked at Alicia, then turned back to Hermione. "All right, hon, just be careful. Contact with his sperm without a magical contract will bind witches to him. Harry is way, way popular with the witches. You know the Gryffindor witches' code, so he's off limits to us unless you allow it, but the other Houses are free to try him. We'll help you, but you have to be vigilant. If you even think somebody is looking at him, make them sign a contract in blood."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Harry will be fine. Oh and he's not 'off limits'; if you want, I'll have him do you."

"Hermione! Aren't you listening?"

Hermione chuckled at the scandalized older witches. "You'll see, he loves me. That doesn't mean he can't have some fun or that you shouldn't. Just remember who's in charge." Hermione hopped up and strode from the room.

"Morgana! Harry has created a monster."

Alicia nodded. "This will end in tears, just you wait."

Angelina nodded; she thought so too. Other witches had tried this "open" approach to wizards and they always ended up used, hurt, and alone in the end. "They're young, they'll grow out of it. I don't think he'll hurt her on purpose, and a minor binding can be broken if both parties are willing. We'll teach Hermione to establish limits on her wizard for her next one."

Hermione, meanwhile, scampered away downstairs and into Harry's lap in his favorite wingback in the corner of the common room and began whispering ferociously to him. Parvati and Lavender listened and smiled. Apparently some of the older witches had begun explaining things to Hermione. Finally! Morgana, it had taken them long enough—and from what Hermione was saying, they had very little idea what else was going on. They as a group really had to figure out these contracts, just to be safe.

Neville Longbottom was holding forth in front of the fire. Ron watched him breathlessly. Harry looked over and cracked his knuckles. The girls in the common room winced. "Leave the idiot be, Harry. Everyone knows he's a prat."

Harry smiled at Hermione and kissed her head. "I know, but he, Malfoy, and Weasley pick on you, Ne. Neville started that crap today, egged Weasley into it. I'm not having that. Boy Who Lived or not, I'll kick his fat ass."

"Harry!"

"Trust me, Ne, it's better to nip this sort of thing in the bud." Harry stood, carrying Hermione up with him, and then turned and put her in the chair. He walked over to Neville and Ron.

Hermione shook her head and mumbled, "Like all your nipping so far has been successful."

Harry grinned over his shoulder. "Think Pavlov, Ne. Soon they'll look at me and start to hurt." Lavender and Parvati looked at each other. What did a Russian have to do with this?

Harry turned back to Ron. "I don't appreciate the things you said to Hermione, Weasley."

Ron looked at Neville, who smiled, nodded, and stood up. Now, with the Boy Who Lived backing him, Ron said, "What are you going to do about it, Potty?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and lashed out, hitting Ron in the gut. Ron bent over into Harry's uppercut, which lifted him off his feet and deposited him, unconscious, on the hearthrug. "You're next, Fatbottom."

"What? I don't have anything to do with this!"

"You miserable coward. You egged Weasley into this and then you just stand there?"

"I'm the Boy Who Lived!" Neville tilted his nose up.

Harry barked a laugh. "One of them. You're also the coward who got into Gryffindor."

Neville surged toward Harry and met a right hook, dropping him on top of Ron. Harry retreated to his seat. Hermione jumped up so he could sit and then she returned to his lap. The common room was as still as a churchyard.

George looked at Fred and they approached Harry. Harry looked up at them. "Want some?"

Fred shook his head. "Not as long as it ends here."

"Keep your brother in line, then."

George nodded. "We will, Harry. Look, Harry, you should be more discreet. We need you as Seeker—Longbottom sucks."

Harry nodded. "If you stop bullies early you don't generally have to do it again. I won't tolerate bullying, however."

Katie gave a significant look to Angelina and Alicia, who had come down the stairs in time to see the whole Weasley–Longbottom lesson.

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"No!" Harry leapt off the sofa and out of Ella's reach.

"Morgana, Harry, you let Granger. Now come here!"

Harry growled at her and left. Emma looked at Ella. "Fucking Gryffindor idiot!"

She followed Harry out of the trunk mansion's sitting room in time to see the door labeled "Potter Castle" slam shut behind him. She sighed and let him go. She reentered the sitting room in time to catch the dressing-down Ella was getting from Eliza. "You stupid cow! Can't you think with something other than your cunt?"

"Hey!"

"Hey, my ass, Caldwell! You've set us all back months!"

"I heard two fourth years talking; Harry took Hermione in a broom closet, or she took him. She at least gave him oral sex and he returned the favor."

Eliza rolled her eyes. "So he's automatically ready to shag us all? Stupid bint, he loves Granger! It's plain as day! He won't do anything unless she suggests it now. You know how he is."

Ella hung her head, tears running down her cheeks. "I'm just so frustrated!"

Eliza sighed. "We all are, silly cow." She sat next to Ella. "Just wait a while. Granger is apparently pretty aggressive with her roommates; at least she talks a good game, and certainly she's bossy enough. We just have to pander to that a little. And figure out the contracts. Once we get those ironclad we can subtly drop one on Granger and suggest some things."

Kristen sighed. "At least if I have to have a mistress it's going to be a smart witch, not some bitch social-climbing and using my body to do it."

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Harry entered the library of Potter Castle and flopped down on the sofa, facing his parents' portraits.

"Harry? You're up late. What's wrong, son?"

"Well, Hermione and I, errh...well, uh…nothing, Mum."

Lily looked at James. "You had a fight with Hermione, Harry?"

"Uh, no, the opposite actually…." Harry blushed furiously and studiously ignored his dancing father, who was singing a mad little ditty.

"James!" Lily drew back her arm and James settled instantly. She turned back to Harry. "Well, what's the problem then, son?"

"Ella wants me to—well, she tried to—oh, gods…." Harry could not talk to his mother about this!

"Sirius will be so proud!" James crowed as he danced.

Harry latched onto this apparent non sequiter in desperation. "Sirius?"

James nodded rapidly. "Sirius Black, your godfather! Hey, I've been meaning to ask you why he doesn't come with you on these little visits. I mean, I understand he's probably busy with chasing witches, but really, it's been months! And what about Moony?"

Harry blinked. "Moony? Hey, wait, Sirius betrayed you and the Longbottoms. He's in Azkaban!"

"WHAT? NO WAY!"

"James, stop shouting! Harry, are you sure? Sirius Orion Black is in Azkaban and you've never met Remus Lupin?"

Harry nodded. "Sirius Black betrayed you, killed twelve Muggles along with Peter Pettigrew, and was sent to Azkaban."

James—Portrait James—passed out and Lily looked at him with a curious expression. "I didn't know that was possible." She turned back to her son. "Harry, that can't be true. Peter Pettigrew was our secret Keeper at Sirius's suggestion. Sirius couldn't have betrayed us."

Harry rubbed his hand through his hair. James sat up. "Where's Moony?"

Harry scowled. "What the hell is a Moony?"

James looked at his son, all traces of humor gone. "Remus J. Lupin. A friend of ours. His Maurauder nickname is Moony. Sirius Orion Black, another friend of ours, is a Grim Animagus, hence his Marauder name of Padfoot. Pettigrew, appropriately enough, was a rat Animagus named Wormtail. I was a stag Animagus, Prongs, and Lily was a doe but her name remained Lily as she hexed us when we tried to call her Bambi. Peter Pettigrew was the only one who could have given us up. You have to find Moony, son! Sirius has to be gotten out of Azkaban!"

Harry frowned. "So how do I find him?

Lily smiled suddenly. "Harry, haven't I seen you talking to elves around here? I know I have. Send a note with an elf. They can find him. If they can't, try a post owl."

Harry nodded and moved to a secretary against the wall. He got out parchment, quill, and ink and then just sat there. What the hell do you say to your parents' oldest friend? James solved the dilemma for him. "Harry, write this down; 'Moony, you bastard! Get your ass to Hogwarts and meet my son! Wormtail is a traitor, Sirius is innocent and must be freed now! Why the bloody Hell haven't you been taking care of Harry?' Sign it Prongs and Lily." Harry wrote the letter and below that wrote, "This was dictated to me by my father's portrait, Mr. Lupin. Please meet me after the Quidditch game on the ninth. Signed, Harry James Potter."

Harry folded the parchment, sealed it, and called, "Otto."

The elf popped in and Harry looked at him and smiled. "Otto, please take this to Remus Lupin. Can you do that?"

Otto bowed and popped away. Harry rose. "I'd better get back to school."

Lily called after him, wanting to get back to the witch problem, but Harry was gone. She turned to her restlessly pacing husband. "He's eleven, James! Perhaps you should lay off the 'find 'em, fuck 'em, and forget 'em' training."

James winced. "Lily flower…."

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The next morning, after a very satisfying workout with the witches and a mutually satisfying detour into a broom closet with Hermione, Harry sat at breakfast and was bombarded with owls. The first letter was a stern note reproaching him for language. The second was a little more conciliatory. The third asked many questions Harry couldn't answer; he would have to ask his mum and dad. The fourth letter was an agreement to attend the Quidditch match and meet him afterward. Harry rubbed his head in frustration. Hermione looked at the letters. "Harry?"

Harry sighed. "Tonight, Hermione—I'll show you tonight." He refused to comment further, and the day passed slowly. Finally Harry walked the witches to their dorms near curfew and then led Hermione up to his dorm room. His dorm mates were downstairs in the common room or already in their beds. Harry quickly pulled Hermione into his bed, closed and sealed the hangings while silencing them, and pulled his shrunken trunk from his pocket. He had developed the habit of carrying it around, as he suspected Longbottom and Weasley had tried to get into it. He opened the lid and shooed Hermione inside. He climbed in after her, closing the lid behind them.

Harry didn't notice the curtains on Weasley's bed twitch back together. He wouldn't have cared.

Hermione looked around the space at the bottom of the ladder; it was a simple, well-lit stone room. Harry moved up beside her and took her hand. He led her down a barrel-vaulted passageway and stopped in front of a set of thick iron-shod double doors that would not have been out of place in a castle keep. "Welcome to Camelot." Harry pulled the door open. "The girls call it Camelot, anyway."

Hermione, who had missed the "girls" comment, gasped. The room was either faced, floored, and vaulted with snow-white marble or built entirely of it. The fabric on the seat cushions and arms of the side chairs was a shimmering gold. The wood of the furniture was ebony—and this was just the entry hall. Harry led her to a sitting room full of girls and young women. Hermione looked at him. Harry shrugged. "I had to know you, Ne."

Hermione drew a deep breath and paused; she thought about it, looked into Harry's honest, anxious face, and nodded. Harry was slightly shocked. He had expected a little ranting, at least. Marie Caldwell came forward and pulled Hermione away from him and began introducing her to the Squib Squad and its coven.

Harry watched and waited for the explosion. None came, so he led Hermione to the hallway of doors and through the one labeled Potter Castle, then through the castle to the library. He kept a tight grip on her hand as he led her to the reading area beyond the stacks. Hermione might have given herself a permanent injury had Harry not been careful, as walking with your head turned all the way around was difficult. Snapping your head back and forth and making mewling noises was not exactly conducive to safe locomotion either.

Hermione whined and turned to look at Harry when he finally stopped. She was frozen by the painting of Harry and a older Susan Bones hanging on the wall, and her heart leapt into her throat so hard it hurt. They looked brilliant together.

Hermione's eyes teared up and she moved to withdraw from Harry. Then the paintings spoke. "So, introduce us to this lovely witch, son," "Susan" said.

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she looked at the portrait again. The eyes—the witch had Harry's eyes, or apparently vice versa. Harry was speaking. "Lily Evans Potter, James Erasmus Potter, may I present to you my fiancée, Hermione Jane Granger."

Lily beamed at Hermione. "Well, aren't you the fast mover, Hermione Jane! Harry tells me you're smart, too. Tell me, how did another smart, pretty young witch get hooked on a Potter?"

James waved Harry toward him as Hermione stumbled initially and then warmed up and opened up to Lily. "So, Harry, when is Remus coming? We need to plan how to get Sirius out!"

Harry nodded. "I know, Dad. He'll be at the game on the ninth. I'll check him out and if I think he's okay I'll try to bring him by then. I'll also give him a satellite trunk."

James looked at Harry. "I know it's a strain on you, son, and you only give the trunks to people you really trust, but Remus is a great guy. You'll see."

"Excuse me, Hermione. JAMES!"

James flinched at Lily's shout. Harry raised a brow and Hermione looked between the Potters like it was a three-way tennis match.

James hemmed and hawed while Lily threw up her hands in exasperation. "Remus is a werewolf, Harry. You may get a bad feeling from him because of this, but he's never hurt anyone. He was bitten and turned by a vicious werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, when he was a child. Fenrir made a habit of biting children to turn them."

Harry was puzzled, "Uh, why would I get a bad 'feeling' from him?"

James shrugged. "Werewolves are Dark creatures, Harry."

Harry blinked "Really? What makes a creature Dark? I mean, they're creatures—why would they be evil?"

The others started. Hermione asked, "What about Dark is evil?"

A spirited discussion resulted that lasted far into the night, covering philosophies and where Harry had learned his. That caused a bit of a blow-up and some contemplation on James and Lily's part. They had trusted Dumbledore, and he had betrayed that trust. Harry explained that he had cut off Dumbledore's access to the Potter accounts and that Ragnok was now managing them, as the previous account manager had died, and was still conducting an audit. James was left contemplating some actions to take.

Later Harry took Hermione back to his room and she kissed him and took her shrunken trunk to her own room. They would have several discussions over the next few days about Harry not having told her sooner, but she was generally happy with him. She actually understood the magnitude of what he had revealed to her—or thought she did, anyway. Of course Harry thought he understood it, too.

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On Friday the eighth Harry sat in Potions surrounded by the witches as normal. He was looking around as he waited for his cauldron to simmer when he suddenly jerked. Snape had just dropped something into Longbottom's cauldron. Harry immediately put up his best shields. Longbottom's cauldron melted down in spectacular fashion, and all those near him fell unconscious from the noxious fumes that emanated from the mess. Snape was amazed that Potter and the witches kept calmly working inside some kind of shield as the Slytherins not near Potter quickly fled the classroom.

Snape was too busy banishing the fumes and levitating a train of Gryffindor males to the Hospital Wing to do anything, and by the time he returned Potter's group had put their labeled potions on his desk and left.

Minerva listened to Harry and the witches' account and taught them how to extract their memories. She collected the memories in crystal vials which were covered in runes and then shooed everyone off to lunch.

Friday night found Harry and Hermione back in front of Lily and James' portraits after their study session. Harry took down his parents' answers to Remus's questions and then they talked some more. The couples went their separate ways after a couple of hours, as Harry needed his sleep for Quidditch the next day.

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When shall we three meet again?

Saturday the ninth of November dawned over Harry leading the witches of Hogwarts—a good percentage of them, anyway—through some Tai Chi kata. Harry was relaxed and focused, unbothered by the "pressure" of his first Quidditch game to come later in the day.

"You see, Professor, there he is—right next to the Mudblood slag!"

"Detention, Mr Longbottom! I will not tolerate that kind of language from any student, much less the Chosen One!" Dumbledore looked out onto the lawn thoughtfully. "There are no rules restricting witches from wizards' rooms, Neville. If Miss Granger was there of her own free will, why should you complain? This is just like the broom incident. Harry needed the broom, as a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and he received one as a gift by post. You forced the issue, and without the intervention of Ms Granger and Harry Potter you would have been a laughingstock. You will need intelligent, resourceful friends, Neville."

Neville jerked. Again with that! What was wrong with Ron and Michael? They were perfectly fine friends, and they had the right attitude. Too bad about Draco, but Neville hadn't given up the hope of making him less vocal and more—well, Slytherin, really. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore watched the "Chosen One" waddle away and shook his head. The boy took so much time and effort…he was almost as bad as Cornelius. Now to talk to Minerva about her Muggle-born and that Muggle-raised Potter. Why was that boy always in the middle of something? He had been from birth, really. It was a puzzle.

Harry and Hermione ate breakfast with the group at the Hufflepuff table, completely disregarding House tables as usual. Well, usual for them. They didn't pay attention to the convention on weekends and barely followed it on weekdays. The Slytherin had been a little stroppy about the invasion of Harry and the coven, but after some hard looks from Eliza and her witches as well as Daphne, Tracey, and Millicent, a grudging silence reined—a silence guaranteed by one look from those burning green eyes. Potter was scary. A few of the fifth through seventh year Slytherin wizards had objected and found themselves ambushed and, at the very least, stuck to walls or ceilings. A few, like Marcus Flint, had tried Eliza or Daphne and their witches and found out that they were not to be trifled with, either. First they beat you, then those green eyes showed up and the beating got worse, and you were stuck upside down in some dark hallway up near the ceiling screaming for help before your guts dropped and you got strangled in your own innards. It was disconcerting and required much more thought. Some of the Gryffindors had had the same experience after objecting to the Slytherin witches' presence, with the added joy of their witch Housemates dishing out a dose of the cold shoulder to go along with some moderate to heavy jinxes and curses.

Harry watched the staff table. Minerva was violently disagreeing with Dumbledore about something, if her hand motions were any guide. You'd have thought that after more than a hundred years the idiot would have learned to leave a Scottish woman alone, especially that one. "Whatcha reckon, Ne?"

Hermione looked up and then glanced at the staff table, only to look right in Professor McGonagall's eyes. She sighed. "Something involving us, Harry. Finish breakfast; she'll come get us when she's ready."

Harry chuckled. "Yes, ma'am." He returned to picking the table over for fruit and Canadian bacon, the lightest of the breakfast fare offered.

Hermione frowned at him, then smiled and shook her head. The older witches gave her glares. Obviously Hermione was going to need another talking-to when she got used to the coven. She was entirely too—too—well, bossy again.

Hermione was right, though. Professor McGonagall finished her breakfast and came over to the Hufflepuff table. "Ms. Granger, could I speak to you, please?"

Hermione nodded and rose, following Professor McGonagall out. Harry and the coven rose and followed them.

Professor McGonagall was deep in thought as she walked. Finally she led Hermione into the anteroom in which the first years traditionally waited to be Sorted, and turned to her. She began, "Mr Potter, ladies, I wish to talk to Ms. Granger alone."

Harry and the coven just looked at her for a moment. As they looked at her, Professor McGonagall realized she was looking at the top students from sixth through first year, the witches anyway. The light broke on her blindingly: these were the same witches in Harry's study group, and they were the witches the female staff linked with Harry. "What's going on here?"

Harry smiled. "You wanted to talk to Hermione, Professor."

"Don't be cheeky, Mr Potter. I wanted to speak to Hermione alone—that is without you present—about a matter of concern to witches."

Harry favored her with a short bow. "Of course, Professor. Hermione, I'll be at the pitch. Wood will be throwing a wobbler in a few minutes anyway."

Hermione nodded. "Tell him we'll be there soon, Harry."

Harry leaned in and kissed Hermione and then left smartly. McGonagall cast a gimlet eye over the others and sighed. "So respecting my wishes is right out, then? Very well. Ms. Granger—Hermione—it has been reported that you spent the night in Mr. Potter's bed."

Hermione gasped. "That's a complete lie, Professor! Well, the salacious aspect anyway. I will admit I spent some time there, but Harry and I were just talking."

Professor McGonagall examined the young witch closely. She believed her. "Hermione, you must be cautious. Certain forms of contact with a wizard could have you bound to that wizard."

Hermione nodded. "We know. Harry and I are already—erm—lightly bound?"

Ella Caldwell snorted. "She's affianced to Harry, Professor."

Professor McGonagall blanched. "Hermione! You're twelve years old!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know, Professor. I also know what I'm doing. We've studied it extensively. I won't be able to do better than Harry, and he loves me. Are we done here? We really do need to get to the pitch or Wood will 'throw a wobbler', as Harry says."

Professor McGonagall opened and closed her mouth several times. There was really nothing to be said. Her family had been very progressive in her youth; they had dropped the practice, but other witches were commonly placed into arranged marriages and sharing their husbands' beds by the age of thirteen as they willed, hence the guards on the witches' dorms but none on the wizards'. The practice had receded in recent years but had not totally died out. It was more common now for the witches to not be officially wed until they were out of school, but the practice of contracting for marriages was still in play—rarely, but in play nonetheless. She finally managed, "Do your parents know about this, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione at least had the grace to blush. "Not the details, but I've informed Mother of my status and intent as required, and Harry has asked for my father's permission to 'date' me. We intend to discuss this issue with them in detail over Christmas break; we felt it was better done face to face. You should probably expect a letter. They'll believe me, but they'll want all the details from a source not—erm—influenced by the situation."

Professor McGonagall had one last shot to fire. "And Harry's guardians?"

Hermione bit her lower lip. "I'll have to have an oath of silence to talk to you about that, Professor."

Professor McGonagall smelled blood in the water. "You do realize I cannot give that oath." Belatedly she noticed she was now surrounded by the witches, who were all watching her intently, piranhas circling a mako who had mistakenly swum too far up the Amazon and scratched itself on some trash. The blood in the water appeared to be hers.

Hermione smiled. "I swear on my magic that we intend no harm to Hogwarts." A blue flash coursed over Hermione. She pulled out her wand and conjured a teacup full of steaming orange pekoe and handed it to Professor McGonagall—conjured, mind!

Professor McGonagall blinked. "Well, yes, then, I swear not to reveal what I am about to learn about Harry James Potter to anyone without his permission, so mote it be."

Hermione smiled at the blue flash and the coven relaxed. "Harry is emancipated in the wizarding world and ignored in the mundane world. His 'guardians' would be only too happy to never see him again. That's actually a good idea; we'll get working on it right away. Mum and Dad could be his mundane guardians. He has known and used magic since he was four and had control of it starting at seven. Thank you—we'll see you at the game, Professor." Hermione turned and led the coven away.

Professor McGonagall raised the cup to her lips and drank. Oh, very nice, just one sugar, just the way I like it. Conjured—extraordinary. Minerva, get hold of yourself! Lily and James's son has been neglected. The least of your fears about those people has come to pass. The least—what else may have happened? Albus, the bloody great lump! Oooooh, that wizard! I have to talk to Harry. Harry has been doing controlled magic since he was seven? Circe! That means he's doing wandless magic!

Down at the Quidditch pitch Harry slowly got into his uniform along with the twins, Ron, Neville, and Oliver Wood. "Potter, where are the witches?"

Harry chuckled. "Up at the castle, Oliver. They'll be here soon. Relax, we have half an hour yet."

Oliver simply sped up his pacing. Harry smiled when Hermione led the girls in and sat next to him. "We have to talk, Harry. Professor McGonagall knows but is under oath."

Harry blinked. "Shaping up to be a busy day, then."

Hermione leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips before she followed the witches to their side of the locker room. Harry sat on the bench thinking, his head leaned back against the wall and his eyes closed. Neville sidled up to the edge of the curtain dividing the locker room. "Do you want to die, Longbottom?"

Neville jerked at Harry's calm-voiced question, then bristled. Harry sighed and in the same calm voice added, "Don't bow up on me, Longbottom. I'm trying to restrain myself from ripping your undescended bollocks off right now. If you provoke me, I will. What the witches do to you will be worse because it will be public and permanent. Witches have long, long memories, Longbottom."

Neville suddenly realized that Harry had never even opened his eyes, and the other wizards, minus Ron Weasley, were eyeing him with hostility. They obviously didn't respect the Chosen One. They would see when he saved them all and they had to worship him! He retreated and turned to his locker to examine it in great detail.

Moments later Harry finished practicing his Occlumency, sighed, and listened as the witches returned kitted out and Oliver began his review of the game plan and his pre-game speech. Harry mounted his broom and flew out with the rest of the team. He was immediately glad he had ordered his mind. The crowd was roaring, it was a glorious day, and the excitement was palpable.

Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, tried to intimidate Oliver, but the big Scot returned Flint's crushing grip with a smile. Madam Hooch shooed them into the air and kicked the box open. Harry was shocked at how quickly the Snitch disappeared, but he circled to gain altitude and took up a search pattern closely marked by the Slytherin Seeker.

Harry watched as the Lion's Chasers were roughed up by the Snakes. He ground his teeth until he saw an opening. Harry saw the Snakes in the open field and dove on them, with his trail closely following. He easily cleared the Snakes' Chasers, but their own Seeker crashed through their close-packed ranks, scattering them and knocking the quaffle loose and into Katie Bell's arms.

Harry smiled. That was fun!

The afternoon proved entertaining to Harry and the Lions, as he used the Slytherin Seeker to break up so many plays that Flint and the other Slytherin Beater started to knock Bludgers and loose Quaffles at him. Harry nearly laughed himself off his broom.

Harry was roaring around the pitch as fast as his broom would fly, amazing the crowds and scaring Hermione. Neither of them noticed Professor Quirrell eyeing Longbottom and Professor Snape watching Professor Quirrell.

Harry was having a blast when, down near the pitch, the Snitch appeared as if by magic. He shouted in surprise as the Snitch did a kamikaze attack on him and went right into his open mouth. Harry lost concentration, dragged a toe on the pitch, and rolled across the sandy arena. He sat up at the end of his roll and coughed the now bedraggled Snitch into his hand. He looked up in surprise as the roar of cheers nearly overwhelmed him.

Just as he stood he was hit by a brown-haired missile and found himself locked in a passionate kiss on the bottom of a dog pile.

Harry was finally able to surface and the team looked around. If they had expected to shake hands with the Slytherins they were disappointed, as the other team had left the pitch while they were still in the dog pile.

They shrugged and headed for the locker room. Harry entered last and burst out laughing. Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley were naked and stuck to each other, face to face. Apparently they had tried to push themselves apart because their hands were stuck to each other's shoulders. "What happened?"

Angelina turned to Harry. "Little pervs tried to sneak a feel while we were in that dog pile. They want sex so much they can just shag each other. Grab my fanny, little bastards."

Harry laughed all the way through his shower and chuckled as he changed. He waited on Hermione, who was under attack in the witches' locker room as the witches had decided her hair needed something done to it.

When she stepped out in a huff, Harry blinked. Hermione's hair was less bushy but no less curly. It flowed around her head and was bound in a French braid. He smiled at her. "It may take a lot of effort and not be schoolwork, Hermione, but it looks very nice." He reached out and touched her hair gently. "Feels nice, too."

Hermione groaned. "I'll think about it, Harry."

Lavender and Parvati clapped their hands and squeed. Harry laughed and left with Hermione on his arm. Padma, Susan, Daphne, and the rest of the coven met them right outside. Harry smiled and passed out kisses. The startled witches smiled and blushed.

Remus Lupin arched a brow. "Harry Potter?"

Harry looked at the wizard and smiled, offering his hand. "Mr. Lupin, I presume?"

"Yes, Harry. And call me Remus, please. Has anyone ever told you that you look startlingly like your father, except—"

The witches smiled and said in unison, "—your eyes, they're your mother's eyes."

Remus blinked and then chuckled. "So I'm not the first, then."

Harry smiled. "So Remus, shall we walk and talk?"

Remus nodded and walked beside Harry, who still had Hermione on his arm and was leading the other witches.

"So Harry, how have you been? You look good."

Harry was in a mood. "I was abused by my relatives to the point where my magic took action to protect me. It happened so often I learned to control it and have been using magic under control since I was seven. Since then I've taken control of my destiny. So far I'm not very impressed with the magical world. It seems filled with megalomaniacs, perverts, and imbeciles. Unfortunately, they all walk around armed." Harry shrugged. "And you, Remus?"

Remus blinked, his wolf senses were very alert to the suddenly very angry witches in the immediate vicinity. "Uh, fine, Harry. I've been out of the country, perhaps by design—I'll have to look into it. Your letter said you had some questions?"

Harry nodded. They had reached the disused classroom that was his destination. "Ladies, if you please, I'll catch up with you later. Ella, if you and Eliza would stay?"

The witches nodded and left. Hermione never left Harry's side. Harry took his trunk out of his pocket and put it on the floor. As he was opening it he introduced the witches and said, "Ella and Eliza will guard the trunk." Harry waved Hermione down the ladder and then followed.

Remus looked inside in amazement as he followed Harry down. Harry wasted no time, leading them straight through to the trunk in Potter Castle and up into the castle itself. He led the way to the library and to his parents' portraits. The shouting started immediately.

Harry and Hermione watched for a moment and then withdrew to peruse the stacks as the yelling settled into tears. "So, Harry?"

Harry sighed and looked back at the three adults—well, one adult and two paintings—again. "Obviously they're friends. We'll get him to take a loyalty oath and then give him a trunk."

Hermione hugged him. "It will be okay, Harry."

Back at the paintings Remus shook his head again. "So Sirius is imprisoned illegally—apparently without trial, if Harry is correct—and Peter is the real traitor. You, Lily, cast the charm that disincorporated Riddle, and your sacrifice powered it, making Harry the true Boy Who Lived, but Neville was selected by Dumbledore to be the Chosen One. Why would Dumbledore do this?"

James frowned. "Because he's a senile old pure-blood."

"James! Remus, that was a little too simplified. We think Dumbledore assumed that Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle as Harry found out, was after Neville. I believe that may be true, but he was also after Harry, as we all know, and luckily for Riddle he caught us all at one time. Harry has a pretty obvious mark, but apparently Neville has some sort of mark, too."

Remus nodded. "Potter Cottage was destroyed by Death Eaters at the same time you were attacked at the Longbottoms'."

Hermione, who had walked up with Harry, gasped. "Harry, just before Angelina stuck Neville and Ron together she Vanished their clothes. Neville has a mark on his chest like this." She conjured parchment and a biro and drew a stylized heart shape with the letters LV and an ampersand in it.

James, meanwhile, was looking at Harry. "Angelina stuck two boys together naked?"

Harry laughed. "Yes, we won the game and they dogpiled me. Apparently Longbottom and Weasley tried to cop a feel and Angelina objected. She Vanished their clothes and stuck them together, chest to chest, naked. We left them like that."

James laughed and looked at Hermione's drawing. "Hey, that looks like those hearts on the beech by the lake, doesn't it, Lily? Remember, I carved one for you and me in fourth year?"

Lily snapped her head back to the drawing. "You know, the last memory I have is of Bellatrix holding Neville and doing something to him. After that it was all running and then the green flash!"

Everyone looked at each other and shuddered. Remus was amazed. "So Dumbledore was fooled by a lovesick psychopath?"

Lily and Hermione shrugged simultaneously. Harry and James laughed. The laughter reached new heights when both witches stamped their foot at the same time, mirror images of each other, and put their hands on their hips. Lily threw up her hands. "Dumbledore was led astray by circumstance and has been unable as yet to see that his theory, though sound, is off by a hundred and eighty degrees—or one boy."

Harry smirked. "Good for me, then. We keep the geezer in the dark, and when Longbottom gets toasted I can see how much they offer me to haul their irons out of the fire. It ought to be worth some serious coin."

The room stilled. Hermione spoke first. "Uh, Harry, Riddle will be killing people."

Harry waved her off. "Muggles and Muggle-borns, Hermione, at least from what the old papers say. Well, those and whoever publicly opposed him. We can take steps, alert the Muggle-borns and start warding their homes, figure out ways to track Riddle and his Death Eaters. Build a team to fight them when they venture into the Muggle world, several teams even. Hell, we can start killing off the Death Eaters now. I mean, we know who they were from the trials. We can swear everyone to secrecy and set up a whole shadow magical world and let the pure-bloods fight it out, or let the ones we trust, and who I vet, join our world, and the rest can fight it out. Then we swoop in and take over after they've exhausted each other. We have very little to do with this civil war between pure-bloods, and they surely won't help us. Eventually, when the pure-bloods pony up the cash, I'll take Riddle down. If they don't and he's the last man standing, I'll take him down then."

James frowned. "Grand plan, son, but how are you going to fight a wizard who has sixty years of experience on you?"

Harry laughed. "Who said anything about fighting? I'm a fair shot—I'll shoot him in the head from a thousand meters out and Bob's your uncle. It's been done before. I just need a place to practice. The grounds here should work."

James and Remus scratched their heads while Hermione and Lily looked appalled.

The argument lasted an hour longer before Harry noticed the time and said that he and Hermione had to leave. James told him how to key Remus into the wards and they took Remus's loyalty oath and gave him a trunk.

Remus would start working to free Sirius. Harry could plan world domination, but they would have to discuss it more before he began the conquest. Or so they thought.

Finally Harry and Hermione came back up out of the trunk in Hogwarts and the four—Harry, Hermione, Eliza, and Ella—walked to Gryffindor Tower, where they joined the victory celebration. Eliza put up with the ribbing with a sardonic tilt to her mouth.

It was getting on toward dark when Harry asked Angelina if she had ever unstuck Neville and Ron. Her reply of, "Who?" drew laughter and a telling of the story. Percy huffed as he went to free them.

Meanwhile, Minerva McGonagall was preparing a letter explaining magical bondings for the Doctors Granger.

Chapter Five

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

Dan Granger wandered into the kitchen on a dreary Sunday morning in November just after sunrise and started a kettle boiling. He went to the front door and opened it to find the Sunday Times in the portico. He smiled; simple pleasures were in fact the best. As he stood up two owls flew past him into the house. Dan smiled; that was so cool! He hurried to the kitchen to find the owls perched on Emma's chair and Emma preparing a strainer full of orange pekoe, pouring the water through it into an antique teapot of hers, just like she did every Sunday morning.

Dan had to laugh as he moved to start a skillet heating. It was just like every other Sunday morning since Hermione had left for school. The beautiful snowy owl sat watching Dan start a pan of streaky bacon. He split a piece and tossed half to her and half to her companion, a regular barn owl.

Emma took the pot to the table, opening the kitchen window on the way, and removed the letter from the barn owl first. She gave it a smile and a pat and it flew off happily. Hedwig got her letter removed next and was fussed over endlessly. Hermione had introduced the owl to her parents the first time she'd sent a letter by Hedwig on that first lonely Sunday.

Dan wondered if he should set a third plate. Emma finally got settled with the style and entertainment sections of the paper, Hedwig apparently reading over, or from her shoulder. Dan put a plate in front of Emma containing two eggs, sunny side up, and two rashers of bacon, one crispy and one soft, and sat behind his own plate of the same. It was an indulgence they allowed themselves only the one day a week and a habit they'd picked up in America during a six-month working holiday there after graduating from university. During the week they ate only healthy foods and exercised daily.

Emma finished her breakfast, put down the paper, and unfolded the parchment from Hedwig. She read Hermione's letter as Dan read the other. "It's from Hermione's head of House, Em."

Emma grunted, already absorbed in Hermione's letter.

Mother (and you too, Dad)—

Professor McGonagall will be sending you a letter with some information, reference magical bonding, in it. Please know that I am entering into this relationship with Harry of my own free will.

Harry is without question the most powerful wizard of his and perhaps any generation. He grew up in less than fortunate circumstances, without knowledge of who he was until this past summer. He is an orphan and is now an emancipated minor, head of a noble house—a Duke, in fact—in the magical world. He is apparently rich beyond the dreams of avarice. He needs to become emancipated in the mundane world in order to keep people from attempting to control him. I've asked him if he feels that some benign guardians would serve as well as emancipation, as I think it unlikely that an eleven-year-old would be able to achieve emancipation. I suggested you and Dad as the mundane guardians; Harry is thinking about it.

I tell you these things so that you won't be worried about him or me.

A girl named Katherine Clyde will deliver a trunk to you today. Please place the trunk in the lounge. If you will be home this evening, Harry and I would really like to meet with you and Dad and talk to you. Please send a note with Hedwig as to what time this evening would be appropriate.

Hermione

Emma frowned. The letter was very serious but said next to nothing. What was this about? She looked up. "Dan! Are you all right?"

Dan sat frozen, white as linen, fork halfway to his mouth in one hand and Professor McGonagall's parchment in the other. "Dan?"

Emma leaned back as Dan turned a deep red and dropped the fork and letter. He stood and walked out the kitchen door and onto the patio surrounding the pool in the back garden. He immediately began to pace and wave his arms. Emma sighed. He only did that when he was mad about something he had no control over, like NHS regulators. She picked up Professor McGonagall's letter.

Doctors Granger:

I am writing to you in order to explain something very important. I would normally send a form letter to Muggle-borns' mothers after their daughters' first year. Normally this would not be an issue until their daughters' third year in early cases, or fourth year in most cases, when their daughters begin to consider physical relationships amongst wizards and witches.

Emma started and thought, Oh my! No wonder he's railing in the garden.

Normally, after the onset of puberty witches are attracted to wizards as girls are to boys in the Muggle world, the difference being that contact with the wizard's semen, without a magical contract signed in blood between the witch and wizard involved, can cause the formation of a bond—the more intimate and frequent the contact, the stronger the bond. The wizard's and witch's levels of magical power is also a factor.

Hermione is a powerful witch.

Emma was chuffed; she knew it!

Mr. Harry Potter, a fellow year mate and House mate of Hermione's, is a very powerful wizard.

Uh-oh!

Harry and Hermione, being respectively Muggle-born and Muggle-raised, have not taken the precaution of a contract but have apparently had enough intimate contact for Hermione to be bound to him as his fiancée.

Oh my! Dan will go—hah! he's already gone—nuclear. Well, the boy did ask first, points for that. We just didn't consider it to be more than puppy love.

This circumstance is highly unusual, as you might realize, because normally young first year wizards are not ready to enter into relationships, much less physical acts of the required level of intimacy for bonding. Young witches are also normally more reticent about conducting this type of activity.

Did this witch just call my daughter a slag?

I have spoken to them both and they seem very much in love—an adult kind of love. Mr. Potter defends Hermione and all other weaker students against all comers and, while quick to anger and ruthless in his punishments, has never to my knowledge intentionally offended, much less injured Hermione or any other student other than his intended target.

Who was this boy, Attila the Hun Junior?

I remain available for your questions any time.

Signed

Minerva McGonagall

Professor of Transfiguration

Head of Gryffindor House

Deputy Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Yeah, except your owl left as if we were going to salt its tailfeathers. Emma looked out the window and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

HOHHOHHOHHOHHOHOHHOHHOH0HHOHHOHHOHHOHHOHHOHHOHHOHH OHHOHHOHHOHHOHHOHHOHHOH

At Hogwarts, Susan looked daggers at Hermione. "You'd better go get him. That's his third lap of the lake—he'll get frostbite."

Hermione chewed her lower lip. Daphne rolled her eyes. "Gryffindors, charge in! You made this mess, Hermione. You should have talked to Harry and us before you and McGonagall started firing off letters. It wouldn't have changed anything, but Harry and we wouldn't have been blindsided."

Padma threw in, "I can't believe Ella and the Squib Squad bought this."

Tracey laughed. "Ella said something about 'jerking off a Band-Aid', and 'best to get it over with in one go'."

Hermione drew herself up and headed for the stairs to go outside and get Harry. The other witches turned back to the window and watched.

Hermione trudged down the path to the lake that Harry had made through the snow this morning and they all had trampled flat and firm. She got to the open trampled area and waited. Harry came steaming around the bend and dropped to a walk as he neared Hermione. He looked at her nervously chewing her bottom lip and smiled. "Walk with me as I cool down, Ne?"

Hermione nodded and Harry put an arm around her waist and led her around the perimeter of the trampled circle. Hermione watched the steam curling hypnotically off of his sweaty body. Finally, in a small voice, she said, "I'm sorry."

Harry looked at her for a moment, puzzled, and then his face softened. "You're forgiven, I told you that earlier. I won't keep saying it, Ne."

"I just didn't realize you'd be so mad, Harry! I thought I was doing the right thing. We need to get this sorted." Harry kind of jerked and then started to laugh. "Hey, don't laugh at me, Harry!"

"I'm not, Ne—well, maybe a little at you, but more at all of this. This isn't me being mad, it's me being nervous. The girls are mad at you, aren't they?"

Hermione nodded miserably. Harry chuckled. "Sorry, that's my fault. I'll talk to them. I'm not mad, Hermione Granger. Scared nearly witless, but not mad. I just can't sit still while we wait for the time of my execution."

"Hey! It won't be that bad, Harry."

"Ne, if you were having sex with someone I would kill them—and I'm not your father, just your boyfriend."

Hermione frowned and then smiled a little Mona Lisa smile. "I'll handle Daddy, Harry. He'll love you."

"Poached on toast, bollocks first, no doubt."

"Harry! Eeeewwww. Now come inside. You'll freeze out here, and we want to go to Camelot and maybe Potter Castle."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You want to go to the libraries, Hermione, just admit it."

Harry led her back to the castle, stopping occasionally to do his stretches. Just as he stepped through the door a cascade of water appeared, headed for them. Harry waved and froze the water. He waved again and it vanished. Harry looked around quickly and suddenly Peeves found himself stuck to a wall upside down, silenced and Petrified. Harry never broke stride but led Hermione up the stairs while it was all still registering with her.

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Angelina, just exiting the Great Hall, saw the whole thing and turned to Alicia. She arched a brow and Alicia shrugged. Angelina dragged her all the way to their room.

Up in the witches' dorm Alicia flopped back on the bed. "Morgana! How powerful can the little blighter be?"

After a moment of silence she raised her head and looked at Angelina. "Ange? Hey, Angelina!"

"What?"

"You aren't thinking of doing anything, are you?"

Angelina snorted. "You said it, Alicia—how powerful must he be? He only has eyes for Granger, though. The most we'll get is a roll in the hay." She grinned. "The next four years should be fun, though."

Alicia though about it for a moment. "We should join their study group."

Angelina frowned. "Why? They have first year courses."

Alicia looked at her. "And all those fourth, fifth, and sixth year tutors, all witches, all top of their years."

Angelina looked thoughtful. "Didn't we just cover covens in history?"

Alicia snorted. "Binns glossed over it to get to the next Goblin war. I've done some extra research."

Angelina groaned. "So spill, already."

"Covens, under a warlock, are free to do almost anything. Like a noble house, at a certain level they exercise all levels of justice. That and they're completely self determinative—they might have to answer to their liege, but there's some question as to who that might be." Alicia smirked smugly.

"Hey, Harry is already the last survivor of a noble house." Silence reined after Angelina's observation.

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In Little Whinging, Jennifer Clyde was starting her car to give her daughter Katherine a ride down to Crawley over in Sussex to deliver a trunk, of all things, for Harry. Not that it was a problem. Katherine was now the girl Jennifer had always hoped she would be, and much of it was down to Harry Potter and his group of friends. Katherine was confident, poised, and smarter than average, at least. She was very fit and becoming a beautiful young lady. Her hair was still the same dirty blond but somehow seemed to fit her, not only that but it was beautiful, shiny and healthy and she was filling out nicely. No, Jennifer didn't mind doing a favor for Harry at all, especially since the boy was paying for the petrol. Jennifer would let Katherine keep that twenty quid. She could afford the petrol and it was only a couple gallons at most back and forth in her diesel Golf.

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In Crawley, Emma had gotten Dan back inside after half an hour. She made him another breakfast and more tea, having let Hedwig have his first plateful rather than waste it. The breakfast, anyway; Hedwig apparently wasn't much for tea.

She handed Hermione's letter to Dan and he growled. Emma chuckled. "You did tell him he could date her, Dan."

"Date doesn't mean shag!"

"Dan! I'm sure they haven't gone that far. We need to tell them a time. I'm thinking eight this evening."

"How are they going to get here from school, Em?"

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall is arranging something, Dan. Remember, the Muggle-born guide said they have instantaneous methods of travel."

"Grrrrr."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You aren't going to be an idiot about this, are you, Dan? The girl is almost a teenager. She'd be experimenting sooner or later. We raised her well; just trust her. Her reports of this Harry boy are—well—glowing; too good to be true, even."

"Grrrr."

"Ass!"

Emma sent a note back to Hermione with Hedwig telling her to come at eight that evening.

The front doorbell sounded and Emma rose. "That will be Harry's friend Katherine with this trunk of his. Be nice." Emma opened the front door and was proven correct.

"Mrs. Granger? Katherine Clyde. Hermione asked me to deliver this trunk to you. This is my mother, Jennifer."

Emma greeted the ladies and led them into the lounge. "Dan, this is Jennifer and Katherine Clyde."

Dan stood and greeted the women and looked at the trunk. He took it from Katherine and put it against the wall under the windows.

Emma looked at Katherine. "You said Hermione asked. Did she owl you?"

Katherine cut her eyes to her mother and Emma paused. Jennifer said, "Isn't that Harry clever, training his owl? Training—having an owl for a pet in the first place. Then training it to deliver notes to the girls! That's one smart bird, and Harry isn't bad either. George and I are always happy to see him and the girls at our house.

Dan perked up. "Girls?"

Jennifer smiled. "Oh, you don't know? Harry has lots of little girlfriends."

Emma watched Dan carefully. Jennifer continued, "You see, a few years ago we started having trouble with some bullies around the neighborhood and at school. This little gang of hooligans was terrorizing the younger kids and all the girls. Harry somehow put a stop to it." She leaned in close to Dan. "I think he beat them up, but it's hard to imagine. He was so small back then, a real little waif."

Emma took a chance as Dan seemed enthralled. She looked at Katherine. "I'll get some tea."

Jennifer started to rise to help but Katherine said, "I'll help!" and quickly rose and followed Emma.

Dan looked back at Jennifer. "So this Harry boy is small?"

Jennifer nodded her head and now that her daughter was out of the room leaned in and confided, "Was. Harry is an orphan. He lives with his aunt and uncle near us. They starved the boy until our girls started feeding him. The boy had no clothes of his own, can you believe it? Only hand-me-downs from his cousin Dudley, his aunt and uncle's boy. Harry is a great child. His cousin Dudley was running that gang, we think. Harry somehow put paid to that. All the older boys in the neighborhood are terrified of him. Well, the rounders anyway. Harry and the girls run the neighborhood now and it's a tight, clean place, shipshape and Bristol fashion, as my father says. He's a fan of Harry's. They've made it a great place to raise kids. Not as nice as this area, but we're all working folks. Harry has made it a lot better in the last three or four years. He and the girls take care of the park. The girls all get along famously, better than sisters even. They're all top of their forms at school. They think we don't know, but Harry eats round our houses and they club up together to get him clothes and things.

"It was a bit dodgy when Harry left for school. The girls were shattered. Little Whinging was awash in tears for a fortnight! But the girls settled. Dudley Dursley—Harry's aunt and uncle are named Dursley—tried to start up again after Harry left, but he suddenly stopped again. I think Harry reminded him he would be coming back."

Dan nodded. "So you like Harry?"

In the kitchen Emma looked at Katherine as she laid a tea service. "Your mother doesn't know? Are you a witch? Why aren't you in Hogwarts?"

Katherine displayed her poise and chuckled. "You're Hermione's mum, no question. Uh, let's see…. No, Mother doesn't know. We think they know something is going on, but we're not sure what and we don't feel like pushing for an answer. No, we believe Harry's magic made us the best we could be, and when that wasn't enough it made us into Squibs. Because the best we can be said to be is Squibs, we can't cast magic, only use it in rune-activated objects and potions."

Emma frowned in thought. "So how many of you are there?"

Katherine smiled. "Fifteen in the Squib Squad—that's what we call ourselves. Harry has probably twenty or more witches affiliated with him at Hogwarts right now. The Squib Squad is fairly constant; as older girls move on, younger girls come in."

"So Hermione is just another girlfriend for this—this—little playboy, then?" Emma was getting mad.

Katherine smirked. "Oh no. Harry is completely head over heels in love with Hermione. We can all tell—well, those of us who've been with him for years. Disappointing, really; I mean, none of us ever got that reaction from him. Sure, a snog or two, but nothing like this. He's all the way gone."

Emma settled. That had been a heartfelt and honest answer and you could see, hear, and even feel the girl's disappointment. "Uh, you wouldn't—erm, well—"

"Try to break them up and get Harry for myself?"

Emma had the grace to blush lightly but this was, after all, her daughter's beau they were discussing. "Yes."

"No, not that it would do any good if any of us did. We had years with him. The witches might, but it won't do them any good, either. From what we've read, they'd be lucky to share him, and only if Hermione agrees—and I don't think she's a fool. She'll have us sign contracts if they decide to go that way."

The pot whistled and Emma asked, "How can we talk? I want to know more."

Katherine reached into her pocket. "Put this in the tea. Mother will fall asleep—you all will. I'll give you the antidote and we can talk, and then I'll wake Mother. She'll think she passed a pleasant Sunday getting to know you and your husband. It won't seem strange to her because I'll reinforce it, and I don't normally drink tea. Erm…and no, we've never done this before and hope to never again, but it's a bit of a situation."

Emma smiled. "I'll say."

Fifteen minutes later Dan and Emma popped back wide awake with the impression of just having spent a pleasant Sunday morning.

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At Hogwarts, the witches and Harry disappeared down into trunks in their own or their House coven leaders' dorm rooms and met in the trunk mansion, Camelot. The group immediately moved to Potter Castle.

A pleasant morning was passed talking to each other, Harry's parents, and Harry. The group reviewed the History of Magic study guide that was nearing completion, the interactions table for potions ingredients—a kind of periodic table of elements for potions—galleries from the printer, and Daphne's receipts and orders. A group went back to Camelot to pull orders for Daphne, including a lot of the books with the Italian Jesus on them, as Harry called the Muggle bodice-rippers that were selling so well, especially to the female Professors after Bathsheba and Charity had confiscated like books from Muggle-borns. Harry didn't even want to know how that trade had started.

Lavender whispered to Parvati, "Why isn't Harry afraid of us being here? Everyone knows we gossip."

Parvati looked scandalized. "You wouldn't say anything about Harry, would you, Lavender?"

"Of course not, Parvati. I just wonder why he trusts us."

Emma, the Hufflepuff coven leader, leaned into their conversation. "Because he's Harry, and he wouldn't betray you. He assumes you wouldn't betray him. We made him perform a loyalty charm on you anyway, though. We aren't Harry." She gave them both a penetrating look and pulled away.

Parvati and Lavender looked at each other, wide-eyed, and went back to studying quietly.

At noon the group broke for lunch and went to be seen in the Great Hall. They would meet here again at two.

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Back in Little Whinging, Katherine was frazzled but very happy. The Grangers had questioned her for two hours and then they had woken her mother and talked to her for another hour, Jennifer as always trying to pump Katherine for extra information about Harry to share with the other mothers. Now she was going to eat, shower, nap, and meet Harry at Potter Castle at two. Her mission, as far as she could tell, had been a total success.

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At 12:30 Minerva entered the Great Hall and took her seat for lunch. Albus refused to be in the castle on a regular schedule nowadays, being much more interested in his politics, so it was left to Minerva to show the flag, as it were. The Potter Coven—bah! Where had that thought come from? Well, anyway, they were all sitting at the Ravenclaw table smiling, giggling, and laughing as you would expect young witches to do. Harry sat amongst them with a slight flush, as you would expect from a young wizard surrounded by the top witches in school. A few other wizards sat nearby or with the group, but one look told a witch where the attention was focused, and that was on the witch and wizard Harry and Hermione Potter. What? Hermione Potter? Minerva, you're going soft in the head, gel.

"Do you think it's the Occlumency, Minerva?"

"Eeeek! Morgana's rusty chastity belt, Pomona, you scared me out of a century! Make some noise or something when you approach a witch."

Pomona smiled. "Especially one hypnotized by her power kind, eh?"

Minerva glared at Pomona. "What did you mean about Occlumency?"

"Emma Cadwallader, that tall brunette with the big chest next to Hermione Granger, told me that Harry suspects Severus of using Legilimency on students and filed a complaint with the DMLE. Dumbledore thinks he's made it go away, but what he really did was drive the investigation underground. Amelia is a Hufflepuff, after all; not afraid of hard work, that one. Anyway, Harry ordered books on Occlumency and they've been studying the art. Emma recommends it to all the witches. She says it makes school easier—something about an ordered mind."

Minerva started. "But that would mean at least one of them is a Legilimens."

Pomona nodded. "All of them are practicing that on each other, too. I've had no complaints, so I assume they keep it all in the coven."

Minerva hissed, "Pomona! Don't use that word! No wonder they're so close, though. Then they know everything about each other."

Septima Vector sat down on the other side of Minerva after dragging the Headmaster's chair out of the way. "Open your eyes, Minerva," she chided. "You have the warlock of the coven and the last survivor of his noble house in your House. Unless everything that squats to pee in the castle is wrong, you also have his chosen. The next seven years are going to be so much fun!"

"Oh gods, I'm too old for this! It's not true!"

Poppy Pomfrey sat down beside Pomona. "Well, good afternoon, Cleopatra, Queen of de-nile."

Minerva very maturely stuck her tongue out at Poppy and the Professors broke up laughing.

Poppy looked at Minerva once the Great Hall had settled again after freezing in shock at the laughter from the staff table. "Have you talked to them?"

"Who, Poppy?"

"Oh, an owl too? Mr. Potter and his lovely fiancé, Ms. Granger. Or are you denying that you can sense her all over him, too?"

Minerva gave her a glare. "I've spoken to them. It was too late, unfortunately; they were already bound."

Aurora Sinistra nodded her head. "Not your fault, Minerva. I mean, who would have thought an eleven-year-old wizard could? I mean really, how powerful must the little blighter be?"

"Aurora! Really!"

The Great Hall paused again as the teachers laughed.

Harry smiled. "Glad we could be entertaining."

Hermione fretted. "You don't really think they're talking about us, do you, Harry?"

Tracey snorted. "What else would they be talking about while looking at us? You and Harry are the talk of the castle, the females anyway."

Harry looked down the table at a familiar-looking older witch, a sixth or seventh year to judge from her shape, as the conversation shifted to other topics.

George, Fred, Angelina, and Alicia showed up and Lavender turned to Harry. "That reminds me, Harry. What was the idea of eating the Snitch yesterday?"

"Like I meant to, Lav? The crazy thing attacked me! I opened my mouth to yell in surprise and the thing flew right in."

Fred frowned. "Odd, that. The things are supposed to be charmed to avoid players at all costs. Never heard of one attacking someone before, but it sure looked like that one did."

Hermione was lost in thought. She remembered watching Harry, but with her eidetic memory, now made even more accurate by their Occlumency, she could also remember seeing Snape behind Harry watching Quirrell, who appeared to be watching Harry and murmuring—at least his lips were moving. It was odd. But why would Quirrell attack Harry? And with a Snitch, of all things? Curiouser and curiouser, as Dad says. Oh, Dad and Mum, now where was—

"Hey, Hedwig, how are you, girl?" Harry handed Hedwig a piece of beef from the tray of sliced roast beef and she nibbled his ear and then flew over to Hermione.

Daphne cracked wise. "The first Mrs. Potter has something for you there, Usurper."

Hermione poked out her tongue at Daphne and took the letter from Hedwig's leg.

Hedwig flew over to a surprised Daphne and nibbled her ear before flying back to Harry for a moment and rubbing her head on his cheek, then leaping off his shoulder and flying out the owl port at the top of the Great Hall. Hermione gave Hedwig a pink tongue too. Harry laughed. "Jealous of my owl, Ne?"

"No, but she shouldn't rub in so much that she's known you longer."

Harry looked at Hermione and laughed. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "So when do I die?"

Hermione simply said, "Eight." Fred and George weren't listening, though, and so missed this exchange that would otherwise have been sure to rouse their curiosity. Harry nodded.

The early afternoon passed with a walk round the frozen lake and of course some horseplay out on the ice. Fred, George, and the giant squid enjoyed a game of tag separated by six inches of clear ice. Harry was having fun making himself skid across the ice by casting wind charms behind himself.

Neville looked out the windows of the fourth floor corridor and suppressed his longing to join them. Ron voiced his own, however. "Looks like fun, Neville. We should go down there."

"I'll not be Potter's sycophant. I am the Chosen One."

Ron mumbled, "Yeah, and I'm failing out of here. I need some help from Harry's witches, or at least less time spent with the Chosen One and more on my studies."

Neville snapped his head around. "What was that?"

Ron's Gryffindor chose that moment to step up. "I have to go study, Neville. I can't hang out in the halls watching Potter. I can't fail, Mum would go spare. She'd kill me."

"Fine, Weasley!"

Ron turned away. "Sorry, Neville, it's just that hating Potter isn't a career. Sure, you're set for life with your fame and your rich noble family, but if I'm going to have anything I'll have to make it myself."

Ron turned and walked away, leaving Neville grumbling by the window. Neville never saw Percy step out of the shadows at the end of the hall. "Good work, Ron. I was starting to worry about you. Now, let's go get your homework for Monday done."

Ron smiled. "Thanks, Percy. I appreciate you telling me how stupid I was being."

Percy nodded. "Family looks after family, Ron." He didn't say that helping to keep Longbottom down nearly guaranteed him a job in the Ministry in a couple of years, and not in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, either. Poor Ron…so unaware of how the game was really played! He would probably get all maudlin and want to suck up to Potter next.

Phhttt. Potter—sure, the boy was a powerful wizard and a dominant personality, but he would never notice Ron with all his strap-hangers around. Ron needed to become independent, stand above the fray of popularity and extracurricular activities that couldn't lead anywhere. Ron needed to be more like Percy and less like the twins, Charlie and Bill. And now was the opportunity to even the score—errr, change Ron for the better.

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Harry and the witches wandered into the school at a quarter to two and the group broke up, intending to meet at Camelot at two.

Harry was shivering. "I'm going for a shower."

Eliza nodded. "Well, back to good ideas then—about time! Trying to freeze yourself to death with sixty-mile-an-hour winds in subzero weather without even a warming charm! Silly boy!"

Harry came and hugged her. "I love you too, Eliza."

He scampered away as Eliza blushed for the first time in anyone's memory.

Hermione smiled and looked at the fainting couch. Katherine had come through early, apparently. She moved over and hugged the sleeping Katherine. Katherine sat up groggily. "Hermione?"

"Thank you, Kath."

"For what, Ne? I told the truth. Your parents will love Harry. Mainly because you do, I think."

Hermione stood and pulled Katherine away in the direction Harry had gone. Ella growled. "So all we have to do to get some Harry time is leap on a parent grenade?"

Emma sighed. "You again? Morgana, witch, you have hands!"

The others laughed at Ella's scandalized face and rolled around on the ground when she pouted. "Like that's the same!"

Daphne and Susan followed Hermione out of the room and stopped her and Katherine at the doors to the master suite. Daphne cleared her throat. "Hermione, Katherine needs to sign this." She held out the open-ended (at least as far as what service the witch offered) contract they had hammered out.

Susan held out an ugly black quill. "With this."

Hermione sighed. "Really?"

Daphne hoisted a brow. "Would you rather lose him? It is possible, Hermione."

Hermione nodded and Katherine smiled and signed, at least until the quill bit into her skin. "Hey, ouch!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and dragged Katherine into the room.

Harry was in the shower. The girls stripped and crawled into the bed. Hermione cast Nox to kill the lights.

Harry came out of the bathroom, all tousled wet hair and athletic body, and smiled at the dimly lit lump in the bed. He went over to the bed and crawled in.

Harry felt a warm body and pulled her into him while he snuggled closer. Harry's hands tracked over her abdomen and then her chest as he spooned her. It suddenly dawned on him that Hermione had grown more than a few cup sizes overnight. The blinding light of reason hit him and he was out of the bed scrambling for his clothes in an instant. He heard laughter and looked back at the bed to see Hermione's head pop up over someone's shaking shoulder. Katherine was laughing herself silly, and Hermione was inordinately pleased that Harry had reacted that way.

"Thank you, Harry. Now, come to bed. I want to thank Katherine for helping us out, and you need a nap before we go to my house."

Harry blinked stupidly. Hermione sighed, climbed out of bed, and led him back into it. Nervously she put Harry and Katherine together and then took comfort in his very hesitant responses to the other girl. Finally she had to take charge a little, not only telling both Harry and Katherine what to do but offering them encouragement, and when that failed just instructing them. That worked, and Hermione was thrilled. She watched and occasionally gave orders. Katherine seemed to really enjoy herself, and when Harry filled her mouth Hermione knew he was enjoying himself, too.

After they had pleased each other orally Hermione told them both to go to sleep, and she curled into Harry's side, slightly shaken by the deep gratification she had gotten from—well, from using Harry to dominate Katherine.

Out in the sitting room the Squib Squad-plus was tense. Eliza finally looked up and laughed. "Are we all worried that he will fall in love with Katherine or he won't?"

Kristine Thomas grinned. "Yes."

"Ouch." Ella rubbed her head.

"Gryffindors! If Harry loves her like he loves Hermione, he might love us the same way. Yikes! Scary, yummy, potentially fiery goodness. Unfortunately shared with all of you. While I love you like sisters, I—erm—love you like sisters. Sisters in bed? Euuuuuwwwww. If he doesn't love her like that, what are we? Slags, Harry's party girls, what?"

Emma laughed from her overstuffed armchair. "You bints are mad. Why aren't we the same girls we were an hour ago? Girls who really, really like Harry and might, if offered the opportunity, do a little exploration of sexuality with him? Why do we have to be all in love or slags? Drama queens much?" Emma went back to reading her book.

The others looked at each other sidelong and blushed. It was a tempest in a teapot, given that they were talking about Harry. Harry, who they had all trusted with every detail of their lives, who had never betrayed that trust, and who had weathered countless estrogen-driven storms of the older girls who had moved on with boy- or girlfriends by now. They still kept in touch. The group settled, embarrassed and thoughtful.

Hermione woke Harry at half seven and sent him and Katherine to the shower. She dressed and then laid out some clothes for Harry and picked up and laid out Katherine's clothes.

She managed to get Harry dressed after he returned and while reassuring him that everything was fine. Harry wasn't really troubled and he settled nicely. He was turning over the events in his mind.

Harry led Hermione and Katherine back to the sitting room and went through the room talking to the other girls. Hermione came and got him when it was time to go. He took her arm and led her to the door now marked "The Grangers" in the long hallway of doors and into that unfurnished trunk.

Hermione showed her nervousness by checking the trunk and commenting, "Mother will love this space, Harry. There's so much she can do with it. Dad will like the extra storage, too."

Harry pulled her into a hug. "It'll be fine, Ne. Now, come on. Let's go up." He nodded toward the ladder and led the way up.

The Grangers sat in their lounge, quietly thinking after a long, full day of discussions. The antique long case clock in the entryway sounded the full Cambridge chimes and then struck off the hours. At the stroke of eight the lid of the trunk Katherine had delivered opened and a black-haired, bespectacled youth stepped out, turned and reached into the trunk, and handed out their bushy-haired daughter.

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione hugged her mother and father tightly. "This is my fiancé, Harry."

Harry blinked but gamely offered his hand and shook Dan's firmly while looking him straight in the eye. Dan sighed. The boy was confident. Hermione was talking a mile a minute, answering her mother's questions, and somehow Dan and Harry found themselves following along behind the women back into the trunk. Dan watched as Harry let Hermione and Emma go first and then followed them down.

He followed along, asking a few questions and watching Harry be polite and courteous. He was disgruntled that there seemed no fault to be found with the boy. Hermione, chattering away, led them through the rooms hidden in the trunk and out into another space that was also apparently a trunk but was a mansion owned by Harry.

They met a roomful of girls—nice-looking, intelligent-seeming girls—in Harry's mansion trunk, and then Hermione led them back into the hall full of doors. Dan noticed doors labeled with girls' names and also doors with addresses or place names on them. They stopped by one labeled "Potter Castle". Harry opened it and led them through a trunk that was identical to the one in their lounge. He led them through the hall, past the store and workrooms and the studio apartment. He continued up a ladder into the entry hall of a magnificent castle.

Dan wondered why Harry let Hermione go down the ladder first but went up the ladder in front of her. He asked Harry about it. Harry blushed. "Hermione has a skirt on, sir."

Dan stood dumbstruck for a moment and then smiled. A teenage—hell, preteen boy missed an opportunity to peek—on purpose? He even noticed what Hermione was wearing and considered what that meant for him? Dan thought he might be able to like this boy after all.

Harry led the Grangers through the castle after keying them to the wards and took up his station next to Hermione in the library, gently herding her through the distracting stacks. Dan had to stop twice to turn around and retrieve Emma. Finally they arrived in front of a pair of portraits and Dan watched sadly as Harry introduced his parents. Poor boy, obviously not over being an orphan. Dan yelped in surprise when the portraits greeted them in return.

Harry chuckled and withdrew slightly as the two sets of parents began talking to each other. He and Hermione sat side by side at a nearby table and watched as the parents talked and the Grangers were served tea by Otto.

Harry had been sweating bullets when he met the Grangers, but Dan had shaken his hand and looked him in the eye and then acted perfectly normal. Harry was confused. This didn't fit any of the horror stories the older girls had told of their dads meeting their boyfriends—no cleaning knives or guns, no crushing grip, none of that.

Harry tuned back into the conversation the parents were having and blushed furiously as his father explained the nature of the binding he and Hermione had and his mother discussed service contracts. He finally couldn't stand it any more, and in a lull in the conversation he asked, "Mr. Granger, aren't you supposed to be threatening me or something along about now?"

Dan and James laughed as Emma, Hermione, and Lily listened closely. "Why yes, Harry, at least traditionally. I was going to wait, though, and try to understand a little more first. However, since you've brought it up, if you ever intentionally hurt my little girl I'll find a way to make you suffer, magic or not."

Harry blinked. "Uh...okay?"

Dan laughed. "Good. Now, I don't like this thing about Dumbledore being Hermione's magical guardian. What can we do about it?"

"Uh, what?" Harry asked, confused.

Dan frowned. "Really, Harry, after all the bragging Katherine and Hermione have done about you? Keep up, son!"

"Daddy, stop it. Harry, Dad and your father were having a discussion about Dumbledore being my magical guardian since I'm Muggle-born and have no adult representation in the magical world. He would have been yours too, by the way, as you're orphaned." Hermione turned to the broader group. "Harry being an emancipated head of house and me being affianced to him severs Dumbledore's guardianship. The other witches in the coven who are without parents in the magical world may be covered in the same way if we contract with them. We have to study the issue some more.

"What we need is to sever the Dursleys' relationship with Harry."

Emma smiled. "Well, we'll call our solicitor and see what can be arranged there. Harry, would you prefer to be emancipated or to have Dan and me as your guardians?"

Harry paled. "That would make Hermione my sister, so no!"

The adults all laughed and Harry blushed when Hermione leaned into him and pecked him on the cheek, then pouted. Dan said, "We won't take Hermione away from you, Harry. Just because we're appointed your guardians doesn't make you and Hermione siblings. We'd have to adopt you for that, and even then you wouldn't be blood-related. What the hell am I saying—of course she'll be your sister, and you'll keep your hands and other parts to yourself!"

"Dad!"

"Dan!"

James broke up laughing at Harry's stricken face and Emma and Hermione's outrage.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Harry, seriously, is this something you don't want?"

Harry shook his head. "No, that was just the knee-jerk reaction of caveman Harry, I think. The Grangers seem like fine folks and we should keep all this to as close a circle as possible."

The discussions took off from there, and Dan grew more and more impressed with the thoughtful young man his daughter had picked. He was faintly disappointed; he had wanted to run Hermione's first boyfriend off, but she had skipped all that and gone straight to her keeper, apparently. The girl never had followed the norm.

Dan talked to Harry about quite a few things. He satisfied his curiosity about why Dudley Dursley had stopped his activities a fortnight after Hogwarts classes began. Harry's forthright admission that he had used the trunk system to pay Dudley and his gang a visit and remind them that he was only a girl's request away was exactly—well, close, anyway, to what Dan had thought had happened.

Harry's opinion that the magical world was full of megalomaniacs and eccentrics that walked around armed concerned Dan, but the discussion with James that followed that opinion eased his mind somewhat.

While Harry and Hermione were introducing their parents, the other girls were finishing prepping orders for Daphne. "Daphne, we made a hundred Galleons profit this week. What are we doing with this money?" Tracey asked.

Daphne shrugged. "So far Harry's told me to put it back into the business. You know he isn't—therefore we aren't—hurting for money."

Susan nodded. "We should save some of it, though, for us to use so we don't have to use his money all the time."

Katherine finally made an appearance out of the master bedroom. "Like he cares." She was immediately mobbed. She smiled and answered most of their questions. Yes she was fine, yes it was great, she didn't know as Harry was her only lover so far but it was still great. No! They had not gone all the way. And on and on.

Finally, toward midnight the girls helped Daphne and the other witches move the pulled orders to their trunks for distribution in the various common rooms and said their goodnights.

In Potter Castle, Dan and Emma got instructions on getting home through the trunk system: climb down, go to the hall, find the door marked "The Grangers" and go through that trunk, then climb up the ladder. Satisfied that they could find their way, they shooed Harry and Hermione back to school. The two children left, pouting.

James looked at Dan. "He really is a good boy."

Dan smiled. "It seems so. Hermione picked a good one if she has to go through this."

Lily frowned. "You know, when I was in school there were rumors and legends of this type of thing, but the most that ever happened was a couple of witches ganging up on one wizard. Or two witches using two wizards for cover. What could have happened to change that so much in thirteen years?"

Emma frowned. "Legend? So this has actually happened in the past?"

Lily nodded and directed her to the appropriate place in the stacks to find the references. Emma read for a while and then looked up. "The recent past, too. Covens were common two hundred years ago; apparently the practice fell out of favor in the Victorian age."

Lily snorted. "Dumbledore, then, allowing or perhaps encouraging the behaviors present in his father's age—the supposed golden age of wizardry prior to the two world wars and the rise of Dark Lord after Dark Lord."

Dan frowned. "How does one man get so much power?"

James shrugged. "People, exhausted by war, let him have it. He then assumes that it's his to keep forever, forcing us into another cycle of renewing the tree of liberty, as our American cousins like to wax poetic about."

Dan groaned. "Bloody stupid is what this is."

"Dan! But that's true, isn't it?" Emma was frowning. "Hermione's generation will have a fight on their hands."

Lily nodded. "Magical and mundane. Too many things coming together: Dark Lord rising, Communism failing, oil running out, the Ministry being taken over by pure-blood idiots. The poor kids."

Dan rubbed his chin. "So how can we best help them?"

The discussion ranged far and wide and lasted until early in the morning. Dan and Emma would meet Remus the next evening and the discussion would continue.

Harry and Hermione and the coven, meanwhile, got back into the groove of class work and refining their relationship and what they were.

Friday morning after PT and breakfast proved to be a watershed.

Draco Malfoy smirked at Hermione as they waited for the door to the Potions classroom to open. He opened his mouth and his face suddenly vanished. The children squealed in fright and fled. Harry went with them, laughing hysterically on the inside.

Severus Snape met them coming up the stairs. "What is the meaning of this?"

Harry looked at the Professor. "Something happened to Mr. Malfoy, sir! His face is gone!"

Snape started. "Stay here!"

He strode down the stairs, his robe billowing theatrically behind him. He was back in moments with Draco in his arms. "Go into the classroom. Read the instructions and begin the potion. If you misbehave in any way you will be scrubbing cauldron bottoms for the rest of the year! Without magic!"

As Snape flapped away with his baby bat, Harry smiled and led the students back to the classroom. Taking a bench in the front row, he sat down and Hermione folded in next to him. They began the potion immediately. As had become the norm, the females in the class, minus Pansy Parkinson, occupied the desks immediately surrounding Harry. Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass took up their normal table right behind Harry and Hermione.

Once they had their potion at a simmer and were waiting for the next stage, Tracey elbowed Daphne, who looked around and, under the commotion of the boys' boisterous failures, leant forward. "You did that to Malformed of the nine fingers, didn't you, Potter?"

Harry stopped slicing willow bark and turned to look at Daphne and Tracey. He weighed ignoring them and discarded the idea. "Yes."

Tracey sucked in her breath. "How? I was watching you. You never drew your wand."

Harry just smiled and she narrowed her eyes. "You used wandless magic!"

Harry nodded and Tracey hissed, "Tonight, fourth floor, third classroom on the right, west wing."

Hermione turned around with a smile. "Trying to make dates with my fiancé, Davis? That's going to cost you."

Daphne smirked. "Already, Granger? Very nice; all that reading paying off, then?" Hermione blushed and Daphne chuckled.

Hermione was saved by the door banging open and the scuffling Slytherin and Gryffindor boys being fined massive quantities of House points and detentions. Snape had learnt not to favor his House. Seven investigations by the Department of Wizarding Education and the Board of Governors, after anonymous tips with full details, had worn away even the Headmaster's ability to shield him.

He turned his eyes to the front row and looked at Potter sitting quietly amongst the witches, going about his work. What was it about the boy? How was it that he was the center of calm?

Severus probed him gently with Legilimency and found only fierce concentration on the work before the boy. He dared not try active Legilimency; one of the investigations had been about that very thing. It didn't matter, anyway. He would find those disturbing perverse images of the Mudblood again, although from behind, that little boy-body she had was enticing. Only from the front did those disgusting growing milkbags appear. Severus shuddered.

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"Fine for you, Granger! He's around you all the time! He'll protect you—we need some help. I don't feel like being a piece of meat for all the upper years in my house to use."

Daphne nodded. "Davis is right, Granger. Slytherins aren't the only ones, either. Bones over there is going to get banged hollow with those tits of hers. They'll make her the Hufflepuff bicycle unless she finds a protector or packs up with the older witches. If she packs up, the upper years in her pack will use her, maybe let their boyfriends use her."

Harry laughed. "Not if they want to live. You're all mine! Erm…well, I'll protect you, anyway."

Daphne smirked. "Let's just go with the two of us—well, me at least—being yours, Harry."

Hermione looked at Lavender and Parvati who, instead of backing her up, shrugged. "The wizards will at least try to pressure us into sex; it's normal."

"It most certainly is not!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ne, why do you think my girls hang with me? 'Cause I hurt the people who try to hurt them. Sure, not all the males in the world are that way, but if there's even one it's too many, and apparently here there are more than one per House. You know we have rufies and GHB in the Muggle world just like they have love potions here. Same stuff, different day. Maybe you haven't seen it yet, but I have. It can happen."

Hermione was spluttering. Harry sighed and turned back to Tracey. "So you want me to train you in wandless magic?"

Tracey nodded. "Meanwhile I want your protection. I'm willing to provide oral sex and possibly full access to my body later. As the books say, a service contract."

Harry blinked. "Uhh...really? Wait—no, that's not what I meant. You don't owe me anything!" Hermione, instead of attacking him and beating him senseless, was rolling on the ground laughing. "Ne! Help me!"

Susan Bones chuckled. "It was your face, Harry. She'll be with you in a moment. However, you have to receive some sort of service or compensation from us if you take us under your protection. You're already top of all the classes with Hermione, so we can either pay you, which means we must get the money from our families, or we can service you. It's not like we can really help you academically, since you're tutoring us."

Harry stopped his fish impersonation and narrowed his eyes. "So I'll take...uuuh...thirty Sickles a month for you. I'm sure your families can afford that."

Tracey snorted. "What about 'we must get the money' did you miss, Harry? We've decided to go a different way."

Harry was a little mad. "And that makes me better than the misogynistic assholes how, exactly?"

Millicent Bulstrode, who had come along as a witness for Davis and Greengrass, said, "Because they made the offer to you and your fiancée; you didn't take anything from them or make any request. You'll give them some token, generally a ring, so the wizards know they're in agreements with someone, and they're doing it for some service from you so they won't end up bound—although, Davis, if you agree to oral and then let him shag you in the heat of the moment, you'll be bound. We'll need open-ended contracts that let us do anything.

"The contracts don't have to say what service they're performing. They could be doing your laundry as far as the world is concerned. The contracts are privileged, so unless you both agree to tell what the service is, it remains between you and the witch contracted with—uh, and your fiancée, of course."

Harry sat on the floor. Hermione sat down and took him in her arms. While they waited, Lavender looked around. Besides her there were Parvati, Hermione, and Katie Bell from Gryffindor; Hannah Abbot, Megan Jones, and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff; Su Li, Padma Patil, Morag McDougal, Mandy Brocklehurst, Nymphadora Tonks, and Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw; and Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin.

Harry looked around too. "Why don't you all club up together? I mean, you're what—a seventh year?" Harry was looking at Nymphadora.

She nodded. "Special case, though. Name's Tonks. I'm a Metamorphmagus and the wizards have been after me for years. This year I hear they're going to get together and take me. I can't watch my back all the time. I'll be happy to teach whatever I can and help with any school work. I'll also offer service for you, Harry. At least until I leave school, then we can reevaluate the situation. I intend to go to the Auror academy and might need some minimal coverage there, but if anyone ever found out…well, I don't need to tell you how they would react…."

"This can't be happening. Look, you all club up together and help each other out. I'll teach you as much as I can and give you all rings. We'll make it as painful as possible for the wizards who won't leave you alone. Tonks, you need to bring in a couple more seventh years. I don't need sexual favors."

Tonks grinned. "You have to have us one way or another, Harry, or the rings will just be rings. A hand job every once in a while at least, but we'll have to swallow the sperm or get it in us somehow. If you have us, the rings will magically denote our attachment and that's usually enough to stave off casual interest from a wizard. If we're claimed and a wizard wants us and we don't want him, we can then take action to dissuade him and be augmented by your and our magic. If that doesn't work, you can take action. You'll know when and where any one of us is in trouble—well, as long as we're here in the castle at least, I think, maybe a much wider area depending on us and you. If we aren't, uh, fully claimed, then we can't take action, at least not augmented. That's why I want to train you. There's an oath, too, so no one can reveal who we are."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So we can't just shake hands, kiss, let me rub one out for you, something else—anything else, really?"

Lisa shook her head. "We could if that formed an attachment for both of us and got your sperm into us, but the best way is probably oral."

"Ne?"

"I wasn't planning on a seventh year, Harry. It's fine, though—I trust you."

"Are you crazy? Hermione, it's not that I want to do anything with anyone else, you know that. You were my first. This isn't normal!"

Hermione giggled. "Neither are 'trolls in the dungeon', I guess, but we'll be fine, Harry. What's the worst that could happen? You'd love one of them? Fine. If you're happy and still love me too, it's no problem."

Harry stood and pulled Hermione to her feet. "I can't believe I'm asking, but how do we do this?"

Tracey nodded. "We take the oaths on our lives and magics, sign our contracts, then I take you into that office and the rest of them work out an order they want to go in. After I'm done with you I can share the sperm with them, and you teach us wandless magic. We meet as often as we can until we all have the wandless magic thing down. Then we'll decide how often we need to meet." She didn't want to mention the trunks and using them until the oaths were given and taken.

Harry leant against the wall and Hermione sorted out the oath with advice from them all. In an amazingly short time Harry found himself sworn, dragged into the office, and Tracey fastened inexpertly to him.

"Tracey, easy, slow. Take your time and explore. I won't last long anyway—well, not if what happened with Ne and Katherine is any guide."

Tracey nodded and backed off. She examined Harry in minute detail, licking and kissing her way up and down. Harry pulled her up for a kiss and a look at her. When she finally returned to his cock and tentatively took him in her mouth again, Harry looked into her eyes, smiled, moaned, and thrust a little with his hips. Tracey grinned and pushed herself down, all the while moving her tongue.

Harry gently held her head and tried to pull her away when, as predicted, his third experience with oral sex pushed him over the edge quickly. Tracey wasn't having it and clamped down with her teeth—not too hard, but enough to stop Harry—and he came in her mouth.

Tracey smiled at the slightly salty taste and swallowed some. That wasn't nearly as bad as some of the older witches said! She gently sucked and pulled on Harry, taking every last drop of him. Her belly warmed and she found herself very wet.

Harry pulled her up, kissed her, much to her shock, and pushed her onto the desk he had been sitting on. He spread her legs, flipped her skirt up, and buried his face in her folds. Tracey could only curl up around his head and groan delightedly around the mouthful of sperm she was holding as he ripped a vicious orgasm from her.

Harry held her through her aftershocks and then kissed her closed lips. Tracey shook her head, ran out of the room for a moment, and then returned. She reinitiated the kiss with her mouth now empty. Tracey tasted herself on him and, desperate for more, opened her mouth and went looking with her tongue.

Harry sneaked a hand down to her sex and she stopped him. "Just oral for now, Harry. I really shouldn't kiss you even."

Harry nodded and Tracey pulled herself together and hopped off the desk. She led him back to the classroom, both of them wearing huge grins.

Hermione smiled at Harry. "We drew straws. Dora goes at the end of class."

"Dora?" Harry was confused.

"Tonks. Now, how do you do wandless magic? What can you do?"

Harry smiled at Hermione and explained how he had found himself to be magical at four years old and how it had developed by the age of seven to the point where he could consciously control it. Then he went on to explain his cousin and how the first intentional magic Harry had done was to knock him away from a girl at the playground in their neighborhood. As Harry talked and demonstrated, the witches codified his magic, starting with his wandless Banishing Hex.

By the end of the night Hermione and Daphne had managed to Banish a chair a few feet away. Nym (Harry said Dora was for when Tonks was older) had taught them quite a few wanded spells and hexes.

An hour before curfew Hermione sent "Nym" and Harry into the office. Harry got his first chance to inspect a nearly nude older girl, and he used it well. Or so he thought, at least until Nym grew her breasts even as he was looking at them. "Is this the real you, Nym?"

Nym's breath caught. "Uh, well, no."

"Could we do this with the real you?"

Nym blushed and morphed. She looked at Harry and smiled. He was obviously fascinated with her small, high, hard breasts and their slightly upturned pale pink nipples, nipples that reddened as they hardened painfully under his attention. "Harry, sit on the desk."

Harry stepped back and sat on the edge of the desk and Nym knelt before him. She took him out and was amazed. He was easily seven inches, and an inch and a half across. She had thought a first year wouldn't have grown into it yet. Harry blushed and she felt it. Nym smiled and took him in her mouth as she had seen described in the trashy romances and heard some of the witches talk about.

He was warm and smooth and softly hard on her tongue; it was amazing. Oh gods, he tasted good too.

Harry was in heaven but he didn't intend to wait this time and pulled Nym up and around as he slid back on the desk. She ended up astride his face, as he had planned, and he pulled her panties to the side and leant up into her.

Nym moaned around her mouthful and lost her place. She struggled for a minute and they regained a rhythm matching his. They came quickly, together and hard. Nym never stopped sucking and Harry went back to work. The second orgasm took a while. His, anyway. Her second bled into her third through sixth.

Nym finally swallowed the second mouthful, sat up, and popped her jaw. She looked down and realized just exactly where she was sitting and hopped up, apologizing.

Harry laughed, sat up, and kissed her firmly. "Thank you, Nym!"

"Ha! Thank you, you little demon."

Harry smoothed his clothes and looked in the desk drawers. He found a long piece of silver wire and concentrated on it. Nym watched in amazement as three plain rings formed in his hand.

Harry coiled the length of wire and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he dragged Nym back into the classroom, where he put the rings on Hermione, Tracey, and Nym. The rings glowed for an instant and changed into Celtic knotworks. Nym shared kisses with all the girls and then the girls all went their separate ways, misty-eyed. Hermione dragged Harry back to the Gryffindor tower and they met at Camelot.

Hermione couldn't wait and pushed Harry onto a love seat, Vanished his clothes, and took him in her mouth in front of all the other girls.

Eliza cracked, "That must have been an interesting meeting."

Emma shook her head and waited until Hermione finished Harry. "Hermione, go to a room. Your parents and Remus just show up here, you know that."

Hermione nodded and dragged Harry and a beaming Ella away. Susan sighed. "Good thing we all signed those contracts. Oh, Eliza, this is Tonks'. Harry needs to get her a trunk."

Chapter Six

When the hurlyburly's done

Harry was wandering the halls thinking, as was his habit lately; everything was moving so fast. The Grangers had engaged a solicitor, who was now moving his case through the mundane courts. The time in the trunk was being well spent and making him spent (hehehe). Well, not really, it was confusing. Ne was a huge supporter of him taking the girls—supporter, hell, she usually came dragging one into the bedroom with her. Harry couldn't figure that out.

Suddenly a strident, nasally voice halted him. "Potty, out without your bitch? Who will protect you?"

Harry turned around and smiled. "Ah, Malfoy, good. I was in need of some entertainment." He snapped his fingers and Malfoy screamed as his scrotum was twisted in an iron grip. "God, shut up, you little fag." Harry waved his left hand and Crabbe and Goyle were stuck to the wall, blinded, deafened, and Obliviated. Malfoy's testes popped as they ruptured and he vomited. "Ewwww, gross, faggot!" Harry stuck him to the ceiling, blinded, deafened, and Obliviated him as well, and continued down the hall, whistling the theme song from the Wizard of Oz.

Harry was two floors and a wing away when the screaming started. Hmmm, Parkinson's in fine voice today; that's a full three octaves.

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Third Friday of November

Albus Dumbledore bowed his head and sighed. This staff meeting was completely out of control. "Severus! Minerva! Silence!" He glared around the table. "Now, Poppy, could you repeat that?"

"Certainly, Albus. We currently have fourteen wizards from all Houses, including nine Slytherins, in the Hospital Wing or St. Mungo's. The Gryffindor, two Ravenclaws, and one Hufflepuff have broken limbs. The Slytherins have all had their testes crushed. Some of them will be lucky to survive—they went septic and I don't know if we did the castrations in time; I doubt any of the Slytherins will father children even if the Healers can grow their testes back or repair the damage. All of them have been Obliviated—heavily Obliviated."

The staff gasped, the male Professors' knees snapping together, and Severus started again. "It's the bloody Gryffindors! They've ruined the pride of the pure-bloods for a whole generation! I demand they all be expelled and tried!"

"My students have nothing to do with this. Your students have been breaking their arms! Albus, I demand the Slytherins all be questioned under Veritaserum and executed." Minerva upped the ante.

The room erupted again and Albus bowed his head in thought. The students who had been "nutted"—there was no other way to describe it—had all been pure-bloods. His Legilimency told him they had habits of making free with the less-than-pure-blood females in the school or the pure-blood females of "lesser" Houses. Nothing unusual there; pure-blood males had always used witches of lesser status to satisfy their urges. It was as it had always been. Obviously someone, probably a witch, had taken offense and was powerful enough to overcome these over-active wizards. She had to be stopped. The wizards were the hope of the future. Witches were for getting children on. The ghosts and paintings were all playing dumb. Oh, they knew something all right, but they wouldn't tell him. Gods, Minerva was strident today! "Minerva!"

"What?"

"Please release Severus."

"Certainly, Albus. When you come to your senses we'll talk. By 'come to your senses' I mean when you fire your pet Death Eater and enforce the rules of this school."

Minerva turned on her heel and left after dropping the Head of Slytherin into the fire in a bleeding pile.

While Albus had had his head down, Snape had fired a mildly Dark hex at Minerva. She had shielded and then loosed a ravening storm of magic on Severus, much to his shock. His shield had collapsed and several vicious curses more normally used in an abattoir had connected.

Albus, amazed, watched Minerva drop Severus into the fire. He rose and went to Severus.

Poppy walked over to Snape and Dumbledore. She levitated Snape out of the fire and toed him over. "Oh, quit whining, Snivellus." Severus writhed on the floor howling, partially flayed. Poppy shook her head and dropped a Portkey on him, sending him off to St. Mungo's.

Albus looked around. "Obviously this will have to be reported to the DMLE."

Pomona Sprout nodded and stood. "Of course, Albus. I think I'll go have a talk with my 'Puff witches."

Filius smiled. "Any chance I can send my 'Claws to you?"

Pomona smiled. "Certainly, Filius."

Filius nodded and walked away, troubled. The staff had come to what was essentially warfare. Oh, it was waged in words mostly, but Albus refused to reign Severus in and Minerva refused to let anything go. Severus would most likely die before this was settled—Minerva was far past capable and was vicious when provoked—but then again, that would settle it.

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The next day

Amelia Bones looked at Minerva. "Min, you know we have to do this?"

Minerva nodded. "Certainly, Amelia. Memory backed by Veritaserum?"

Amelia smiled. "Yes. So you have nothing to hide?"

"That poufter Death Eater pet of Albus's attacked me. I did not kill him, merely incapacitated him, Amelia. I'm sick to death of how witches are treated and I'm not having it any more. The rest of the staff's memories other than perhaps Albus's will verify my story."

Amelia nodded. "I have to talk to Susan while I'm here, Minerva. She's entered a service agreement with a wizard."

"That's exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about! Albus has allowed that despicable tradition to resurface with all these concessions to the 'pure-bloods'. That's what we get for having a poufter who doesn't care about witches as Headmaster."

Amelia, taken slightly aback, nodded. "Well, let's get you done and then, if you would, you can accompany me while I talk to her, and my Aurors will do the rest of the staff."

As Minerva was interviewed, Amelia contemplated what she had said. It was becoming difficult for all but the most powerful witches to be their own women. Maybe this run of crushed nuts would teach the pure-bloods.

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Susan caught up with Harry after Herbology and pulled him into the night-flowering-plants greenhouse. She shut the door and dropped to her knees. "I can't wait, Harry." She pantsed him and locked onto his hardening cock, nursing like a calf.

Hermione smirked. "You're rather addictive, Harry. I think we should shag them all."

"Hermione!"

"What, Harry? They'll never stop sucking your cock if you don't. Oh, I see—you like having them on their knees like this little slut. Let's see if she likes it." Hermione squatted beside Susan and opened her robe. "Oh yes, look, Harry—the slut's nipples could cut glass."

Susan moaned and Harry grunted at the vibration. Hermione stuck her hand down the front of Susan's robes. "God, Harry, the slut is sopping wet. Pull her off and stuff your cock in her—blast a baby into her belly."

Susan's low, tearing groan as Hermione fingered her to a quick orgasm was all Harry could take and he came with a shout. Hermione let Susan swallow twice and then pulled her off of Harry and cleaned him up with her own mouth.

Susan lay recovering where she had fallen over and grinned up at Hermione. "Morgana, you are such a bitch! Thank you."

Hermione smiled around Harry's cock. The other girls in their year who had followed them into the greenhouse laughed. They had already had the Mistress Hermione, Queen Bitch treatment. It was horrifyingly erotic having her use you while you sucked her wizard off. Her cleaning him up afterward took all the sting out of it—well, that and her apologizing to you later. The little bushy-headed bookworm had an amazing tongue and ability to absorb punishment.

Parvati and Lavender had amended their agreements and Harry had shagged them both after he did Hermione, which had been amazing. Hermione, the kinky little witch, had seduced Harry into shagging her on the silk rug in front of the hearth in the sitting room of the trunk mansion with all of them watching. She had focused Harry so tightly on her that he had apparently forgotten they were in the room. They actually heard her cherry pop. Harry had then loved her into some kind of loop of orgasms with him. They were a sweaty, sticky, jubilant, exhausted mess at the end.

Now he used his broom to fly to their window every night after they came back from the trunk. Hermione and he were shagging every night now that she was on the potion.

Hermione held first Parvati and then Lavender down after they re-swore, and Harry shagged them bowlegged. It was insanely erotic having Hermione have Harry shag them with their dorm room door unlocked, or even occasionally open. Neither of the pure-blood girls had had their periods and so were not on the potion yet, but they ran ovulation detection charms on themselves every night. There was no telling when Mistress Hermione would bind them to their beds and have her wizard shag them, or in Parvati's case sit on their face while Harry shagged them stupid. Lavender hadn't agreed to that. Parvati had leapt at the opportunity.

Lavender was getting more and more jealous, though, and Parvati thought she would break any day now. When she did, Parvati intended to have her witch–witch cherry. Hermione wasn't getting that! This little Mistress Hermione routine that she had fallen into was fun and all, but Parvati had too much time invested in Lavender. They had gone to primary school together, for Shiva's sake!

The rest of the witches had not gone that far, but several were contemplating it. They had all, however, sucked Harry off multiple times and he nosed into their folds whenever they let him. Harry wasn't much of a breast, leg, or ass man but he was fascinated with their sex and appreciated a healthy girl, as much as she would let him. It was shattering.

Harry fully lived up to his part of the bargain, hurting wizard after wizard and crushing the nuts of Daphne's and Tracey's nine attempted rapists. Somehow—the witches couldn't figure it out and Hermione was incensed, as Apparation was supposed to be impossible inside Hogwarts—their service contracts let Harry come to them no matter where they were. The upper year Slytherin males were paying a heavy price.

Daphne and Tracey, being complete Slytherins, had egged on the Slytherins who were bothering their witch housemates into attempting to rape them; then Harry would appear, crush their nuts somehow, and leave in the wink of an eye. They were the undisputed Queens of Slytherin and had their private covens of housemates lined up on their knees for Harry at any opportunity. Eliza laughed herself into hiccups over it the first time it happened and then started her own coven; couldn't let the ickle firsties steal a march.

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Amelia watched with Minerva as the group entered. Susan's eyes were slightly glazed and her cheeks were flushed. Amelia huffed. Sucking cock between classes! Morgana! They probably think this is new, too. "Min, who is that wizard?"

Minerva looked at the group. "That's Harry Potter, James and Lily's boy. Top of his class, he's one of my first years. Why?"

Amelia glared at Minerva. "Look at them, Min! It's obvious who Susan's contract of service is with. He's all but running down her chin. We need to speak with those witches, and that wizard, now!"

Minerva started. Could she really have missed this? All the hullabaloo about the vaunted Squib-Who-Lived! Minerva! Get control of yourself. Don't repeat derogatory nicknames started by Snape, of all people. 'S true, though, the boy is hopeless. Why Albus is so interested in him I don't know. It had to be a fluke, him killing the Dark Lord, and Harry and Hermione's obviously torrid affair has blinded you. "Amelia! Language! Children, come here, please."

Harry had seen his favorite Professor on the stairs and was already looking at her and smiling. He led the group to her. "Yes, Professor?"

"Follow me, please." Minerva led them to the second floor and an empty classroom. She indicated seats for them and Amelia secured the room.

Amelia came and stood beside Minerva. "Susan, are you in a service agreement with Mr. Potter?"

Hermione answered. "Susan is in a service agreement with House Potter."

Amelia's head snapped to Hermione. "Susan can speak for herself, young lady."

Daphne and Tracey had prepared them for this. They had requested copies of the Potters' will from the Chief Goblin at Gringotts and then, on reading the will and its provisions, they had requested the Potter signet. Harry was wearing it now. Hermione, after Harry had taken her virginity, had requested the matriarch's signet and they had all watched as Harry made love to her and put the ring on her. It had accepted her immediately. They hadn't investigated the other wills yet, but that was next on the agenda now that they had found out about them. Hermione was at least the Duchess Potter now, in all the ways that mattered.

The last two and a half weeks had been spent in constant study of the Potter Line, defensive magic, pure-blood custom, and wizarding culture, from six in the morning to eleven at night. Well, when Harry wasn't buried in Hermione's belly or someone's mouth, or they weren't in class, doing physical training, or at Quidditch practice. It seemed Hermione couldn't go a day without him inside her, and the other witches weren't far behind. Harry was exhausted every night and slept like a baby in Hermione's arms from the time they went to sleep after making love or using Lavender and Parvati until he was woken by Hermione and sent back to his tower at five-thirty.

"Actually, she can't speak on this matter, Madam Bones. I can, as her Mistress."

"Amelia!" Minerva conjured a fainting couch and lowered the Director of the DMLE onto it. She sat at the foot.

Daphne looked at Tracey and smirked. Amelia regained her wits. "What recompense, Duchess Potter?"

"Duchess Potter? Excuse me, Amelia, but this is Hermione Granger." Minerva was confused, but a horrible feeling was penetrating her mind.

Amelia chuckled. "And you a pure-blood, Minerva. Where is your mind? What has Dumbledore been doing to you?

"She may have entered school as Hermione Granger, but unless I am severely mistaken, only the Potter Matriarch could write and receive a House Service contract. Isn't that correct, Lady Greengrass?"

Amelia smiled grimly and lowered Minerva into her position on the couch as she stood. "So—how many, Duchess Potter?"

"Nineteen full time, Madam Bones, here at school. Of course some of those have their own covens; we haven't restricted them."

"And the level of contract services, if I might enquire?"

Hermione blushed and Daphne laid a hand on her shoulder. Hermione nodded and responded, "All are open-ended, Madam Bones. The witches decide what they're ready for."

Amelia was amazed. "Duke Potter makes no demands?"

Susan pouted. "No! It's terrible, Auntie. He won't push at all! He hardly wants anyone but Hermione. We have to take the lead."

"Have you ever thought that might mean he doesn't require or want anything from you, Susan? You could have made other arrangements." Amelia looked around at the reddening faces. "You didn't want to, did you? Did you even bother to ask Harry, or did you just use him?" Now the faces were shocked and then thoughtful.

Harry stepped in. "They did ask; in fact we researched and discussed it thoroughly. I agreed to it, Madam Bones."

Amelia nodded as Minerva gathered herself, though she flinched at every new revelation. "All first years, Duchess Potter?"

"Please call me Hermione, Madam Bones. No, one seventh year and others across the other years."

Amelia smiled at Hermione. "If you'll call me Amelia. So this seventh year—she must be a crackerjack at defense. And you, Duke Potter, must be a powerhouse. Much more power than the average wizard—hell, even than most powerful wizards, or you wouldn't have been able to emasculate those Slytherins. Their magic will naturally try to protect their ability to procreate. That knotwork Susan is wearing is your sigil, no doubt, since I see it on Lady Greengrass too."

Harry shrugged. "I wondered why it was so hard. It was easier to do to that boy in the neighborhood; thought I was losing my touch, Madam Bones." Harry grinned at her. "Errrh...oops?"

Minerva had heard enough. "Mr. Potter! Are you telling me you emasculated nine Slytherin house members on purpose? You broke those other students' arms, too, didn't you? Broke? Hell, turned the bones to powder! Poppy had to send some of them to St. Mungo's."

Harry shrugged again. "Yes. The Slytherin were attempting to rape Daphne or Tracey, who were both wearing my sigil. It was fully functional and they had both recently completed their obligation, within the preceding two days anyway. The Slytherins knew they were claimed. They were warned by Daphne and Tracey, and I warned them at least once. What Madam Pomfrey apparently refused to relay was the number of injuries she's treated. All of those Slytherins were warned verbally once, stopped physically once, and finally emasculated. I would have been within my rights to kill them at the first instance.

"The other House members were warned twice. The witches they attempted to fondle met the same conditions as Daphne and Tracey. The third time I stopped the wizards physically; they didn't try to win, so I didn't go as far with them. The wizards should keep their hands and other body parts to themselves."

Minerva was stunned. How powerful must Potter be? What? Minerva! What are you doing? He talked about being within his rights to kill them! Hush, you, they're rapists! Shhhh, listen.

While Minerva was having an internal conversation with her obviously suffering-from-multiple-personality-disorder inner voice, Amelia had narrowed her eyes. "So, Your Grace, it is your contention that you were protecting your chattel?"

"I prefer vassals, Madam Bones, and please call me Harry."

The witches were all looking at Harry proudly. He considered them not property but people. Amelia and Minerva, who was adjusting again rapidly now, smiled along with them. Amelia nodded. "Very nice, Harry. Would you be willing to provide a memory of each event? Just for full verification, Your Grace, and only because I don't want to use Veritaserum on one so young. There's a storm brewing over what has been happening here at Hogwarts. If I can say that this is an old pure-blood House handling its business, then the pure-bloods on the Wizengamot will be hoist with their own petard."

Harry smiled; he liked that idea. "Certainly, Amelia; you should be able to use Veritaserum on the seventh year Slytherin and Gryffindor for corroboration. They're Obliviated, though. I'll show you the events leading up to the incidents. They should be able to provide details that match."

Amelia nodded. "Fifth year and above should be able to stand the Veritaserum, I think. Let me show you how to collect the memories, Harry, and please give me the whole memory."

While Amelia worked with Harry, Minerva approached Hermione. "Hermione—beg pardon, Your Grace—Lady Potter—"

"Hermione is fine, Professor."

Minerva nodded. "Thank you. Harry didn't, erm...well..."

"Pressure me to have sex?"

Minerva blushed. "Yes."

Hermione smiled. "I practically raped him in the girls' loo on this floor. He came looking for me Halloween day to comfort me after Longbottom and Weasley insulted me horribly. We told you that—or rather, of that, not the details. I don't know why, but I saw him on the platform and then met him on the train and I was a goner. I was so glad it was Harry who came to that loo, I just lost control." She blushed.

Minerva smiled gently. "I guess it was really too late for the talk, then?"

Hermione laughed. "We have sex education in primary school in the mundane world. My mother gave me the 'talk' before I left home. We've done extensive research on the possibilities—and yes, Harry and I have explored every possibility." Minerva looked down and saw the Potter Matriarch's ring on Hermione's right ring finger. She was amazed. "I can see the ring now."

Daphne nodded excitedly. "Just like the family book says. You know who they are and mean them no harm, so you can see it!"

Amelia looked up from where Harry was extracting memories and placing them in conjured crystal jars. "How many of you have read that book?" she asked sharply.

Hannah Abbot suddenly flushed. "All of us. I thought that was odd."

Minerva shook her head. "Maybe not. If Harry read it first, it probably knows he considers you family or you wouldn't have been able to read it." She didn't say what they all obviously knew; there was another possible explanation, but the contracts should have prevented it from being permanent.

The witches looked at Harry, who was blushing now under their glowing looks. "What? Leave me alone…."

Hermione shook her head. "Too late for that, Harry."

Harry put his head down on the desk. His neck and ears were glowing.

Minerva smiled. "Hermione, I will go over the rules for Noble houses from the charter. I will give you a digest of them. Please try to keep your activities as a married couple under cover. Albus—erm, the Headmaster will be back soon and I can't tell you how he might react to this. He only has attention for Mr. Longbottom."

"If possible, Minerva, I would like a full copy of the rules as well as the digest."

The young witches all nodded. "You do know we aren't the only House with witches under contract here, don't you, Minerva?" Hermione asked.

"I suspect that even if that's true, you're the only one with less than 'pure-bloods' under contract. Also, the ones I know of are family to family, not head of house to witch. The witches involved are under marriage contracts and normally wait much later than first year to start…erm, well…to be active with their affianced. You must be very careful, Hermione. Multiple marriages are legal in the wizarding world and Harry is a rare prize. The Potters are a fabulously wealthy old family." Minerva looked directly into Hermione's eyes. "There will be more than a little jealousy if this should get out."

Su Li agreed. "Cho Chang will move to be included, which will bring the pack of witches she's in with her. They're currently informally serving the pack leader and occasionally her current boyfriend. Only manually, though, and with no contact with the sperm of the wizard of the day, at least no internal contact. She's tried to get me to join them."

Harry shrugged. "Hermione can deal with them however she wants. If they try to hurt her or supplant her, I'll act." He was done giving Amelia memories.

Harry got dogpiled. Amelia laughed as Minerva threw up her hands and wrote them a note to excuse them from class.

Minerva walked Amelia out. "What keeps me from telling Albus about this, Amelia?"

"You know the answer, Minerva. You're pure-blood. They let you in. Now only Harry can let you tell. I doubt he will. I don't get the impression he thinks too much of Albus."

"Phhht. Albus placed him with those Muggles, Amelia, over my protest."

Amelia got a crafty gleam in her eye. "Did he really?"

She nodded to Minerva and walked away, whistling a jaunty air.

Minerva grimaced; that didn't bode well for Albus. A witch didn't get to be top of the DMLE without knowing how to work things. Amelia would have enough material to blackmail Albus into anything in another week.

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Fourth Saturday in November

"Well, damn, Daphne, why didn't you say? And all the girls help you?"

"Yes, Harry."

"So you're reinvesting the money and paying them a wage, right?"

"Uh...well, no, Harry. We're just holding the money besides the operating capital."

Harry rubbed his hand through his hair and looked at Daphne. "Okay, we're going to open bank accounts for all the girls. They'll be paid a wage for time spent filling orders, and if we sell things they develop they'll be paid a percentage of the profit. We'll also pay a wage for producing items. You all work it out."

Daphne smiled. "Fine, Harry, and thank you."

Harry shook his head. "You're all smart girls. Don't wait for me—work out this kind of stuff with each other. If I don't like it I'll talk to you all about it, but I still only get one vote."

Daphne pecked Harry on the cheek from her position in his lap.

Meanwhile Susan was reading a letter from her Aunt. "Harry, Aunt Amelia says we're clear in the Wizengamot. As long as we or you are acting in defense of ourselves, or in your case of us, and as long as you don't kill the perpetrator intentionally, it's fine. You may owe some wergild, though.

"Apparently if they discover who did this they can challenge you to a duel, or if they're minors their parents can—hmm, head of house, maybe, since you're a head."

Tracey suddenly lit up. "Malfoy! You can take Malfoy, the whole house!"

Hermione spluttered, "Harry fight a duel with a grown wizard? I think not!"

Tracey pouted and Eliza cleared her throat. "Hermione, there's considerable turmoil in Slytherin right now. The scions of the Death Eater supporters have been emasculated. Those houses don't have 'spares', as it were, for a variety of reasons."

Daphne snorted. "Mostly that the heads are closeted homosexual misogynists."

Eliza continued, "Yes, well, be that as it may, we have an opportunity here. It can be exploited through line theft, Harry impregnating the matriarchs or the primary daughter of each line, or there's the possibility of Harry eliminating the heads and thereby taking the houses.

"In Riddle's first rise Malfoy was the financier for him. Wars are won with money.

"Harry could beat Malfoy in a duel, or he could simply kill him and use Narcissa Malfoy and cast the servus secus curse on her, enslaving her."

Harry was amazed. It was like he wasn't even in the room. "Uh, not to put my foot down too harshly, but HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MINDS? I have no intention of stealing anyone's line or taking over any other houses."

Tracey looked at Harry quite calmly. "Well, that's too bad, because Pansy came to me to enter into service. It seems that your emasculating Draco ruined her and her family's plans, and now they say you owe her. She'll marry Draco, but you will impregnate her as many times as she desires or you'll have to duel the Parkinson head. Don't ask me how they figured it out, and I neither confirmed nor denied anything, but this is pure-blood politics at its basest level.

"If you don't either agree to their demands or to a duel, they'll shop this information out for a price and you'll be forced to duel all of these families' heads."

Harry stood up, placing Daphne on the couch, and walked out.

Emma put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and held her in her seat. "Let him go, Hermione. He needs to decide what to do. We'll have to talk about this again and again, I think."

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Sunday, 8 December 1991

Harry walked the darkened halls after yet another row. This one had involved Remus, Minerva, Amelia, the Grangers, and his own parents, too. It was unfair of the girls to go to the adults with this, but Pansy fucking Parkinson was negotiating sharply from a position of strength. The bitch! Harry personally felt she should be treated like any other bully: shown that she was not the most powerful person here; but apparently the politics of the situation precluded that, or limited Harry to seducing her into submission, and the very thought made him retch. They wouldn't let him beat her ass like he wanted to.

Now the adults were turning on him, too. Amelia had as much as endorsed the duel-with-Malfoy plan. After the practice duels with her and Remus she was convinced Harry could win, as was Remus. They had been beaten badly the first three times by what they called Harry's "controlled wild magic", but now they were beginning to understand how it worked and were fighting back. Amelia was convinced that Harry could win against any adult opponent the first time he dueled them. They just had to arrange the terms and conditions of the duel so that even if Harry left the other party alive they would be proscribed from harming him or his interests ever again, or speaking of what they had learned about Harry's magic. Her preference was for him to leave them dead.

Harry, having taken a lesson and now done his reading, was not convinced that winning wouldn't open more of these cans of worms. House Malfoy had agreements with Dark-oriented families across Europe that were a matter of public record. If Harry won the house, not only would he have a thirty-eight-year-old matriarch to satisfy but he would have all these contractual obligations. There was no way to know how many obligations the house had that were not on public record. He was simply not prepared to deal with that. Narcissa was good-looking enough, but from all reports she was a bitter shrew with an acerbic tongue and she was old—well, thirty-eight anyway—a great-looking woman with an apparently smoking hot body, but old.

On the bright side, Amelia was able to docket a trial for Sirius that had flown completely under the radar because she had used his prisoner number rather than his name and scheduled trials for several other numbered prisoners at the same time.

Harry's efforts to slow the world down were a shambles. The only good things lately were the girls and these walks. Amazingly, Harry had not rowed with the girls; sure, they'd had some spirited discussions, but not really rows. Somehow it was only the adults he rowed with. Of course, it probably helped that he was pleasuring the girls as much as he possibly could. Making the girls come was Harry's favorite thing in the world; it was such a rush! Hermione being a complete submissive with him and a dominatrix with the other girls and then apologizing profusely and letting them use her was surprising and sometimes amusing, but everyone seemed happy with the arrangement.

Harry's feet carried him down a long-disused corridor and he turned into a room just to see what was there. He approached the huge mirror and looked at the writing around it. "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." Harry chuckled; someone was having a laugh. "Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desirE—I show not your face but your heart's desire," indeed! What simpleton had thought that up?

Harry approached the mirror and was fascinated. He saw himself, obviously older, standing with an obviously older Hermione who was hot as a fresh-fucked fox in a forest fire, by the way, surrounded by kids. Harry watched mirror-Harry and -Hermione pursue the very active kids all over the inside of the mirror. One of them carried a rough red stone the size of a ping-pong ball and led a merry chase.

Harry laughed as he watched and the sound seemed to attract the little rascal, who charged the glass from his side and held out the stone. Harry automatically reached out his hand and staggered back in shock when he grasped the stone and it came free of the mirror. The image in the mirror faded and Harry was left standing there rubbing his head.

The stone he now held was obviously massively magical. The girls would be interested in this. Hmmmm. Harry thought for a moment and looked around the room. He picked up a piece of chalk from near the slate on the front wall of the classroom and concentrated. He took the resulting look-alike stone and walked back to the mirror, where he put it against the surface and concentrated again. The stone was suddenly plucked out of his hand by a smiling, bushy-haired, green-eyed little nymph who gave him a wink and raced away into the depths of the mirror.

Harry wandered away, bemused.

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16 December 1991

Harry flew over to Hermione's window and then through it as the window opened. He dismounted his broom and kissed Parvati as a thank-you for opening the window. She giggled. Harry smiled back and tried to drag her to Hermione's bed, but Parvati slipped away. Harry shrugged and crawled into the bed. Hermione opened her arms and Harry rolled onto her and kissed her thoroughly. She smiled and spread her legs and Harry slipped right between them. Hermione wriggled until Harry was lined up with her center and then he pushed hard. He was completely buried in her in one push. Harry stroked into her hot, wet, velvet tightness and just as she came Hermione sat up from the floor beside her bed and asked, "Harry?"

It was too late and Harry shouted in mingled fear and passion as he spilled into the Hermione under him. He leapt from the bed, holding his heart, as Nym appeared in the bed. She dragged Hermione into bed with her and buried her face in the real Hermione's folds, presenting her backside to Harry. Hermione giggled and Harry growled and rammed himself into Nym from behind while he slapped her ass. "Little witch."

Nym came again and groaned.

"Harry, don't come in her."

"What? Why, Hermione?"

Harry waited patiently as Hermione grunted out an orgasm and pushed Nym away. Harry knew immediately why she hadn't wanted him to come in Nym. "Hermione, that's terrible! She's hanging on the edge!"

Hermione leaned up, huffed, and pulled Harry to her. As he slid in she smiled. "She's had two. Nym can clean you off. Now fill me up, lover."

Harry moved to turn his head and look for Nym. Nym laughed and turned him to face Hermione. "Hurry, Harry."

Harry grunted and pounded into Hermione while at the same time he spun and pulled Nym down and her legs open. He latched onto her clit and tongued her through orgasm after orgasm. Hermione smiled and held Nym down as best she could. Lavender and Parvati laughed and came to help. Poor Nym soon had a girl latched onto each nipple, Harry licking and nibbling her clit, and Hermione trying to get a fist into her.

Hermione was suddenly reminded that she had other things going on when Harry dragged across her G-spot at an odd angle and then pushed back in hard and right on the button, so to speak. She clenched and howled, punching out with her arm. Nym howled as Hermione's small curled hand penetrated her, and Hermione forced her arm inside Nym nearly to the elbow. Nym convulsed, clamping down on Hermione's arm, and bucked her way through a muscle-pulling orgasm. Harry pumped rope after rope into Hermione.

Before the girls had gathered their wits Nym pushed Parvati and Lavender off and disengaged from Hermione's arm. She rolled Harry onto his back and rammed him down her throat. Harry groaned as his cock got the dry heaves in an odd kind of male multiple orgasm. Parvati dove between Nym's legs, and Lavender, finally throwing it all in, dove between Hermione's.

Thank the gods it was Friday night. They managed to go unnoticed as all the Gryffindor first year girls were there. It was their night on the schedule. Nym was a seventh year Ravenclaw and had her roommates in her own little three-person coven, and Harry's roommates thought he was gone for Quidditch. Even then they only thought as much because Neville was still making a stink about not being on the starting team, and them practicing without him.

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Hermione regained consciousness first and woke the others in a blind panic; daylight was streaming in the windows. Nym groaned and laughed and then groaned some more. Harry woke, dressed, took his broom, and jumped out the window. The shot of cold air fully woke first him and then the witches.

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Harry flew down to the dressing rooms; it was nine in the morning. Alicia, Angelina, Katie, Fred, and George were waiting for him. Katie smiled, kissed his cheek, sniffed him, and whispered, "Me next, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. Oliver strolled up to the group. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's dress and practice. Where are the reserves? Ravenclaw has the pitch this afternoon."

Alicia sighed. "Oliver, you wanted this practice to be starters only. You said so yesterday."

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Up in the dorms the girls helped Nym to the shower, as she could hardly walk. The three first years weren't much better off as Harry had shagged them all last night, working off his aggressions multiple times. Gods, it had been wonderful. The shower got them somewhat mobile. They wandered off to breakfast, Nym morphed to a random first year-sized witch until they got out of the portrait hole. The older Gryffindor witches watched, knowing that that was an extra first year, and said nothing. They knew what was going on from Hermione and would carry the secret to their graves. Harry had made the wizards very respectful of witches; he deserved all the thanks he could get. Besides, if they kept their mouths shut then Hermione might let them get some from Harry if they ever needed it.

While Harry was at practice the witches just managed to catch breakfast. They all squirreled away fruit for him. Padma and the rest joined them and Padma hooked a plate of biscuits into her bag.

Morag looked at Hermione. "So Harry is going home with you on the twenty-third, Hermione, and the plan is for you and him to visit a different one of our homes every day?"

Hermione nodded quickly. "Fortunately Amelia has gotten my Floo hooked up, and the Patils are twins so we can do their parents at the same time on Christmas Day. For the rest of the time we can use the trunks. So it's like this schedule says." Hermione handed out pieces of parchment.

Padma giggled. "Father will be mad, but Mother will appreciate being done by Harry. Come to think of it, you're very talented, Hermione—Father will probably like being done by you."

Hermione blushed and rolled her eyes. "Padma!" She leant forward and whispered, "Only one male gets in here."

Padma snickered. "You're definitely not the girl who got on that train in September. Besides, Daddy isn't a pedophile." She looked at the parchment.

Nym barked, "Hey, I resemble that remark!" As Padma looked, the others laughed but Nym frowned. It was a valid issue.

23 Dec Lavender Brown 6 p.m.

24 Dec Katie Bell 4 p.m.

24 Dec Emma Cadwallader 6 p.m.

25 Dec The Patils 2 p.m

26 Dec Hanna Abbot 2 p.m

26 Dec Kristen Thomas 6 p.m.

27 Dec Megan Jones 2 p.m

27 Dec Eliza Mcnair 6 p.m.

28 Dec Susan Bones 2 p.m

29 Dec Su Li 4 p.m

30 Dec Morag McDougal 2 p.m

31 Dec Mandy Brocklehurst 2 p.m

1 Jan Lisa Turpin 2 p.m

2 Jan Nym Tonks 2 p.m

3 Jan Millie Bulstrode 2 p.m

4 Jan Tracey Davis 2 p.m

4 Jan Daphne Greengrass 4 p.m

"If we need to make any changes to the times, let me know as soon as you can."

The witches looked over the schedule somewhat uneasily. Megan finally introduced the elephant in the room. "Aunt Gwenog is going to go spare, twice—first that this is necessary, and second that I've entered into service with the youngest Seeker in a hundred years. She's going to want contracts for the Harpies just so they can keep the witch babies."

The group sat for a moment and then Nym snorted. "Yeah, well at least you just have to fight off your aunt. You won't have to defend yourself to your mother for being a pedophile." The chuckles started slow but soon they were all laughing uproariously, even Nym this time.

Hermione was lost in thought. Megan had brought this up before, and something about it tickled Hermione's memory. Suddenly the memory exploded across her consciousness and she let out a woof of air. "Artificial insemination—we can use artificial insemination on Narcissa Malfoy and she can have a cover wizard after Harry takes care of Lucius. We'll put her under a contract."

Eliza waved a silencing dome into place. "If she would agree—and that won't solve our problem with Parkinson."

"But it will, Eliza. Parkinson can have Draco and a baby. We can use it on her, too."

Emma objected. "You'll never get Harry to agree to this, Hermione. Those will be his children."

"It's all in how we write the contracts, Emma. They have to be structured to protect the children at all costs. We'll get to work on them."

Emma rolled her eyes at Hermione, but this did have a slight chance of working. It was a gold-plated cinch that Harry wasn't going to shag Pansy. He hated her. Narcissa Malfoy could probably have him, but Harry would kill her when she moved against Hermione, which she surely would.

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Down at the Quidditch pitch Katie had Harry up against the wall of the witches' shower with his cock buried in her throat. Angelina shouted, "Oi, get a room!"

Katie pulled her head back and held Harry with both hands. "Sod off, Johnson. Perk of being on the team with him. I get him after practice."

Alicia snorted. "No wonder you've never complained about Ollie's insane practice schedule." She watched as Katie took Harry all the way down her throat again. "Morgana, Potter, you could have a career in porn easy. You didn't flag a bit when we walked in."

Harry smiled. "And how could I? Katie is great at this."

Angelina snorted. "You'd better pay attention to her, Harry, or she'll bite you."

Harry grinned and grabbed Katie's head. He took three full strokes and then pulled her up, spun her around, and shoved his cock into her and released. Katie wriggled and purred.

Alicia stood openmouthed for a moment. "You're shagging them? All of them? Little blighter, you could have said! You could have too, stingy bint."

Angelina nodded. Katie laughed at her friends. "See Hermione—she'll sign you up. Or–" she turned and stroked Harry a few times— "Harry can just shag you now and you can take your chances."

Alicia shook her head. "Oh, hell no. I'll sign up and get on the potion if I want some. No way the little blighter doesn't knock me up, powerful as he is. In fact I'll sign up anyway; I'm tired of all the Gryffindor girls getting laid and me going dry. My fucking fingers are sore."

Angelina nodded and kept watching as Harry pulled Katie to the floor and buried his face in her folds. They had absolutely no shame, and Harry knew his way around a pussy.

Oliver, Fred, and George looked at each other and shook their heads. They had heard everything through the curtain. Oliver said, "Odd; witches generally go after older wizards."

George shrugged. "Potter is their muscle. I saw him 'disciplining' a seventh year Ravenclaw. I'll not cross them or him."

Neville, who had just come in, growled, "He's nothing special."

Ron glared at him. "Oh, yeah? He beat me and you up and stuck you over the mantle like a Hippogriff head. It took him to get you back down; even McGonagall couldn't do it. The only thing you get from witches is insults, but yeah, he's nothing special—I can see your point."

Neville fled, near tears. Dumbledore had to pay more attention to him and less to politics!

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The group in the Great Hall had by now gathered themselves and headed off to their favorite empty classroom on the west side of the fourth floor. One whole wall of it was windows. Daphne looked at Hermione. "You sent those books to your parents?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Professor McGonagall had to go talk to them. They were, like, going mad. Dad flipped all the way out and Mum—I don't know, she's oddly quiet about it all. She asked a few questions, sent an anxious letter, and then that was it. Wizarding law apparently has them boggled, but the solicitor they engaged practices both sides and he's confident Harry will be ours in the Muggle world soon."

Su asked, "Harry is still staying at your house at Christmas, though?"

Hermione nodded and Su continued, "And his girls from the neighborhood are coming over still?"

"Yes, or we're visiting them."

Mandy frowned. "He's going to shag them all now that he's trained to it."

Millie shook her head. "Some, perhaps, but not all. Some of them aren't ready and some of them don't think of him that way. Remember, it's not like with us. The Muggles don't need his sperm in them to reinforce the claim. Hell, even most of us aren't ready to go all the way with him yet; some of us never will be."

Lisa Turpin snorted. "Yeah, right, I've seen him eyeing you up. One of these days you'll be sucking his cock and find yourself with a belly full. We know you want him, and he obviously won't turn you down. You need to raise your self-esteem, Millie, make it match those magnificent breasts of yours."

Millicent Bulstrode smiled shyly and blushed furiously. Harry was never shy with that roving eye of his.

Morag's brogue got their attention. "Uncle Angus has been keeping an eye out around Little Whinging. The Squib girls have packed up and are doing fine, just like they say. The police and the teachers are watching, too. They don't trust that Dursley's gang has gone. Harry has such a reputation and the boys know he'll be back for the hols, so Uncle Angus thinks it won't be a problem." Morag's "Uncle" Angus was a Squib who worked for the police. He had made some enquiries for her father, his cousin.

Millie laughed. "I can see that he would. That nut-crushing trick of his is a potent reminder. Parkinson is packed up in Slytherin. She supposedly shagged Audrey Nott's boyfriend the other day. The stupid bint was proud of it."

Daphne's bright laugh filled the corridor. "Like she had a choice. She made it sound like it was all special and fun. I heard he threw her on a table in the common room and buggered her."

Hermione gasped. "That's horrible!"

Tracey looked at her. "Hermione, you've offered a place to every girl in the school and Harry has eliminated the rapists. It was her choice not to enter a service contract with Harry. She went the traditional way, trying to bargain on her own—and cut you out, by the way. Stupid bint won't take the potion, either. That's why Carmichael buggered her. He doesn't want to get a child on her and be saddled with her. Those are creepy though, all of them, the old inner circle Death Eater families. They want to turn the clock back to the Dark Ages. I don't know why a witch would run with them."

Eliza snorted. "Besides, it's a lie; Geoffrey Carmichael is Audrey's cover. Audrey isn't a Death Eater candidate, by the way. She hates her father with a passion. The only reason Geoffrey got hard was that Parkinson looks so much like a boy from behind. He faked it, but Parkinson squealed like a pig and cried like a baby when he stuffed his hard-on between her and the table top. Geoffrey used her crying to convince everyone he'd buggered her. I was there. Audrey's one of mine."

Nymphadora chimed in as they found seats in their reading room. "You know, Harry just scraped off the gross bad actors. Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecomb had a problem with a Ravenclaw wizard not knowing that no means no the other day. They handled it, but nobody should let their guard down."

The witches nodded. "Speaking of which, are you doing the Hogsmeade run, Nym, and if so, with who?"

"Marie Felix and Sheldon Price, Hermione, two Ravenclaw seventh years I've run with since first year. Marie owns Sheldon and I'm more adept than her, so I'm safe. She's one of mine."

Hermione nodded and smiled. "Good. Glad to see you getting your witches out to play, Nym."

Nym hugged her. "You're such a good little mother."

The witches laughed at the blushing Hermione.

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In another part of the castle Albus Dumbledore looked sadly at the shimmering fabric in his hands and wondered how he had come to the point where he was contemplating stealing from an orphan, as Fawkes sang a somber song.

That fateful Halloween all those years ago had brought the plans of a lifetime to a halt. The Potters warning the Longbottoms that night was the only good thing that had happened. Them being killed and leaving their son an orphan was the least of the bad things that had happened. Their boy Harry had been disfigured with that lightning bolt scar, Alice had been Crucioed to near insanity, Frank had had a leg blasted off, and little Neville had "LV" carved into his chest amid the other scars from who knew what ritual Tom had been trying to perform.

Little Neville was a sanctimonious near-Squib who fell back on his fame at every opportunity and had just proved yet again that he could not make friends. Having apparently lost Weasley, he had come in here bitching about Potter and the witches. He should be getting close to Potter and learning. Now, there was a young wizard on the rise who knew how to use witches, if Dumbledore was any judge. Why, just the other day he had seen Potter in a disused classroom with three fifth years on their knees in front of him. That boy had taken up the traditions well. Too bad he was so fascinated with witches. Albus shuddered; the things were so needy!

He sighed. If he hadn't interceded, the Hat would have refused to sort the Longbottom boy, claiming he was a weakling and a Squib. As it was, even with all he'd been able to do over the years and years of private tutors, the boy was near hopeless; all the teachers agreed. Severus had had to be disciplined very harshly after he made the boy wet himself on the first day of class, and still the boy pissed himself occasionally in that class.

The Malfoy wizard had grown into the perfect foil against which to sharpen the Boy-Who-Lived, just as planned. Powerful, for a child, mean-spirited; until Potter nutted him he'd been perfect. Bah, Potter! One of those pure-blood bitches, Greengrass probably, had made the connection and knew he was worth millions and had moved to establish herself. It had gotten away from her, though, and the Muggle-born Granger owned the boy. Those other little bitches just flocked to him for protection, probably, because Granger surely wouldn't let him shag them. Muggles and their morals! So for a little cocksucking the cunts got a free ride. Granger would get Potter's fortune, though. Hehehe, teach the little Greengrass slag to play grown-up games. Oh what a tangled web we weave when we don't really know how to manipulate the sheep. Hmm, a few favors for Granger and he could have some of that fortune. Well, that was for later; just keep an eye on the witch for now and figure out what she would respond to best.

Albus, feeling better after his rant and beginning to plan to get a hold on the Potter fortune, folded the Invisibility Cloak and wrapped it up with the note for delivery later. He would have Fawkes take it to its owner on Christmas since he had been unable to convince little Neville to stay for Christmas and Alice had sent him that Howler.

Hmmm, the Mirror would have to be installed in its final place later, too, after the boy had seen it after the holidays. No problem. A small delay, that's all, and now that he finally had the stone from that bastard Nicholas and hidden in that mirror, time was immaterial. Too bad he couldn't have gotten it a hundred years ago when they first met, but no matter. He could buy some witch from the Balkans to father some children on after a little de-aging. He would use some glamours to cover his younger features for a while and the witch could raise his heirs while he went about wizard's business. Speaking of which, Severus was free today, now where was that brandy? Severus was so much better after a snifter or two.

Fawkes squawked discordantly and flew out the window. Albus, startled, cracked his head on the top of the chifforobe he was rooting through. "Bloody bird!"

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At the Ministry of Magic, Amelia Bones sat contemplating the upcoming trial of Sirius Black.

She had laid the groundwork with a thoroughness that bordered on politics as art. That idiot Fudge could blame Dumbledore, Barty Crouch, and Bagnold for Black's illegal incarceration and make political hay. Black would be freed, further distancing Harry from Dumbledore, and she could survive to fight another day. Black would of course get some compensation—some, hell! A massive amount.

Susan had better appreciate what was being risked for her. She'd better come up with an unimpeachable cover wizard and shower her aunt with red-haired, green-eyed baby witches of immense power. Ha—poor Hermione! She might be Duchess Potter, but her ladies-in-waiting had plans for her Duke. Who knew Susan could be so—so—well, Slytherin? Good for her, though. Her letter had explained a well thought out course of action, and Susan appeared to be ready to execute it. Too bad she had to share, but she seemed happy to. Come to think of it, the Duchess Potter seemed happy, too. Well, it took all kinds.

Now to get the plans going to capture the rat Pettigrew that Remus swore was in Ronald Weasley's possession, and everything would go as planned. Amelia shook her head. Remus had seen Pettigrew riding Weasley's shoulder at a Quidditch game. Werewolf senses weren't all bad, it seemed.

Chapter Seven

When the battle's lost and won

23 December 1991

Harry was ensconced in a compartment with Hermione, Daphne, Lavender, and the Patils when the door slid open and Pansy Parkinson came in and sat next to him. "What the hell?"

Pansy reached in her bag and fished out a parchment. "I'm not signing this, Potter! It gives you nearly complete control of me!"

Harry blinked at her. "Fine. Don't! I appreciate it."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't like you, Parkinson. I certainly don't want to father children with you."

"Oh, so I'm not good enough, Potter?" Pansy leapt up and somehow had her robes off in a couple of seconds. Daphne waved an obscuring charm over the windows and Hermione sealed the door. Pansy ran her hands up the front of her body. "I'm young but I'm developing nicely, a natural blond." She turned around. "And I think I have a nice arse. My family are all at least moderately powerful and we are very, very wealthy."

Padma stood up and pushed Pansy over so she was bent ninety degrees from the waist. She ran a hand over her ass and to her sex. Pansy squirmed but said nothing. "A virgin, too, Harry." Padma let Pansy up.

Pansy glared at her. "There's a charm for that, you know, dyke!"

Harry snapped, "And that's why I'm glad, Parkinson. You're no better than any of my girls, but you have a bad attitude."

Hermione tripped Pansy and held her on the floor by sitting on her chest. She reached between her legs and rubbed her sex fairly roughly. Pansy squirmed and writhed. She also got very wet. Hermione forced her to orgasm quickly and then got off Pansy and sat down by Harry. "It comes hard. You could have some fun with it."

Pansy leapt off the floor. "FUCKING MUDBLOOD WHORE, I'LL KILL YOU!" She was an amazing red color.

Daphne slapped her, hard. "Shut up, bitch, while your master decides your fate. Don't interrupt the mistress again." She backhanded her. "That's for insulting my mistress."

Pansy sat stunned, nude, and humiliated. Audrey hadn't acted like this at all.

Hermione nodded at Daphne. "Thank you, Daphne. You did emasculate its potential owner, Harry. You owe it at least a little."

Harry nodded. "Get it to sign and I'll let you give it some cum if you want to."

Hermione turned and picked up Pansy's bag. She unceremoniously shoved Pansy back on the floor and dumped the contents of her bag on the seat.

Pansy started to struggle again and Lavender sat on her chest, facing her head. "Stop, bitch. Mistress, can I test her oral skills?"

Hermione blinked. This was totally unplanned; although Daphne slapping the crap out of Pansy had also been unplanned. "If you want." Surely Harry would stop her. And what was Lavender doing? She had barely started getting and giving oral sex from Hermione and Parvati!

Harry, slightly stunned by the whole thing, said nothing. He watched in amazement as Lavender slid forward, and then it dawned on him that they were going to rape Pansy. "Stop!" Lavender froze inches above Pansy's mouth. "Pansy, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. If you don't want to participate in this any further, just say stop, okay?"

Pansy heard Harry and part of her mind howled at her to scream stop now. She opened her mouth, raised her head, and closed her mouth around Lavender's mons, sucking hard and pulling air through Lavender's cotton panties. Her tongue, instead of helping to form a word, strove to rip through the light cotton and bury itself in Lavender.

Lavender sank down on Pansy, pushing her head to the floor, and Padma chuckled. "I'd say that's a 'go', not a stop, Harry."

Harry shook his head; he would never understand girls. The slap he accepted as punishment for calling Hermione names, and they had agreed to see if Pansy was a virgin. She had a reputation, after all. But who knew she'd go all submissive, or that Lavender would force her—and what the hell was Hermione doing?

Hermione was digging through the contents of Pansy's purse, possibly more of an intrusion of privacy than Padma checking her hymen, and dropping items back in one by one. She was finally left with a folio, the thick contract scroll, and a Blood Quill. She opened the folio. Pansy's whole negotiation was laid out, including semi-nude wizarding photos of her mother and aunt and a black and white one of her grandmother. Hermione held them up. "What are these for?"

Daphne glanced at them. "They give an idea of what Pansy will look like when she matures. Oh, I hope she takes after granny; she's hot."

"Shmmp iss oossly th waymm," came from Lavenders crotch.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, bitch. Oh my god! Fucking hell, that was good. Talk more—say 'usually' again." The others in the compartment laughed. Hermione read through the negotiation packet while Lavender judged Pansy's oral skills. Obviously they were of a high order.

Daphne lifted Lavender off Pansy and took her place. "Okay, bitch, let's see how you do with someone with more experienced than our lovely lion."

Pansy's little voice had given up in disgust and was sitting in a corner muttering about sub-slut dykes.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Harry, these requested changes are good—well, some of them. They would have the effect of putting her even more under your control."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, what part of 'I don't want her' is too complicated for you?"

Lavender chuckled. "You only want the bushy-headed bookworm, Harry. I don't blame you, but there is an advantage to be gained here for the future. The Parkinsons have influence among the Dark families. They and the Greengrasses can help us balance our world."

Harry sighed and changed benches. He pulled Lavender into his lap. "I don't really care about the world, Lav."

"But you'll have to, Harry. Our kids will need wives or husbands."

"Our kids, Lav?"

Lavender blushed. "Not necessarily with you, Harry, but still ours—and we are yours, so yes, 'ours'."

Hermione smiled at Harry and she and Padma went back to the negotiation document. Lavender squirmed around on the bench and popped Harry into herself. "You may not want her, but she sure made you hard eating your pussy."

"Mmmmph mrrmmrph!"

Daphne spasmed and clamped her thighs around Pansy's head.

"Oh, gods! Lav, you're right, this little bitch can eat pussy so good! Pansy, he's not yours yet, so while I appreciate your yelling, forget the word 'mine'."

Eventually Padma traded with the now wrung-out Daphne, who read through the contract and then traded with Parvati.

Hermione took her turn on Pansy and then with Harry while the others cleaned Pansy up and talked to her about the contract. The modifications were made and Hermione sat impaled on Harry in a reverse cowboy while Eliza was fetched to review the contract.

"God gods, have you been running a brothel in here, Hermione?" Eliza wrinkled her nose.

"Just testing Pansy, Eliza."

"Hmmph! How'd she do? I might want some."

"Shtop! My tongue is sore," Pansy said quickly.

Harry smiled. "Very good, Pansy, you remembered the safe word. I was a little worried."

Pansy beamed. Eliza patted her cheek. "You have hands, silly bitch." Pansy sighed and reached for Eliza's robes.

Eliza grinned and pushed her hands away. "Later, eager beaver. Let's get you contracted so you can clean your mistress and master for your first dose."

Pansy smiled demurely and blushed lightly as the others looked at each other. Something very odd was going on here. Little Pansy thought so too, but the rest of Pansy bricked her up in her corner. If she signed, they would take care of her. That was all that mattered. Sure, she'd have Draco around, but he was easy to control now; she wouldn't even need Harry's help. A hint or two of outing his complete sexual dysfunction and it would be over for him; the few remaining fully male Slytherins would eat him alive.

Pansy signed the document they handed her with the Blood Quill after seeing that the three clauses most important to Daddy were in it, then found herself flat on her back on the bench with the Mudblood sitting on her face. She got her first taste of Harry from the Mudblood and worked hard to get it all. When the Mudblood was finished, Padma gave Pansy lessons in sucking cock and she got the rest of her "dose", as Eliza had called it. Harry put a Celtic knotwork ring on Pansy's finger and she curled up on the bench, contently nursing away on him. She fell asleep still gently sucking.

Harry threw his hands in the air. Hermione laughed and covered Pansy, and Harry's lap, with a blanket. She removed the obscuring and locking charms and Eliza rolled her eyes. "You have a voyeur fetish there, mistress."

Hermione smiled. "You don't have to call me that."

Lavender patted her cheek. "We know, sweetie; we just like watching your head swell."

Hermione gave her a pink tongue and the others laughed and laughed. Harry couldn't join them, as Pansy had his full attention. He finally managed to remove her after he had supplemented her dose. He curled up in the corner of the bench with Pansy still maintaining as much contact as possible. Hermione tucked the blanket in around them and rested her arm on Pansy like she was the family dog.

Eliza shook her head. This would be interesting.

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Two hours later

Remus, Dan, Emma, and fifteen girls stood watching as the students flowed off the train. It was easy to find Hermione—she was on Harry's right arm in the center of a cluster of witches. Dr Emma Granger watched with interest as Harry navigated around upper year witches and over the top of any and all wizards who didn't actually move out of his way. He never made physical contact, and if they saw him and could they moved, but in the end even the ones with their backs turned were moved out of his path. Even from where she was, both on the platform and in her life, Emma could tell Harry was one of those males who could be felt in a space. For Emma it was a curious kind of piqued interest with slightly sexual overtones. She smiled as she imagined what it must be like for an unattached female. Her smile broadened; for the males on the platform it was obviously something different. They gave way, looking slightly surprised in most cases. Some looked very irritated.

Dan noticed Emma noticing. "He's a power, no doubt."

Remus nodded. "And here is trouble."

Lucius Malfoy stood in front of Harry, refusing to yield the path. Harry looked at him and smiled. "Malfoy."

Lucius blinked. How exactly did this boy know him, and what possessed him to be so familiar? "Your name, boy?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Surprisingly uninformed, Malfoy. Surely you can figure it out. Do try not to be quite so rude in the future." Harry had never stopped walking, and the surprised Malfoy gave a step, then another, and then was clear of Harry's path. Harry nodded imperiously. "Malfoy." He swept by the Malfoys and continued on his way.

Draco approached his father. "That's Harry Potter, Father." Lucius nodded and watched Harry walk away. Narcissa watched him, too; the boy was obviously fully aware of his status as a head of house. Not only that, but he was a power. She could feel him all the way to her—well, never mind. This would prove interesting.

Harry approached the adults. Remus looked at him. "Lucius Malfoy is dangerous, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "He's a bully. I never have liked them."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Say hello to the girls and goodbye to the witches, Harry. I don't have my wellies and don't feel like wading in testosterone."

Dan huffed, "Emma!" He got a look and a raised brow.

Around the platform parents had watched Harry and his witches come off the train. Frank Longbottom looked at Alice. He was pensive; Harry was everything he had wanted Neville to be. He looked around and there was Neville, looking exhausted and bedraggled. Frank sighed.

Harry went around meeting the witches' parents. The Bells were a perfect example. Harry moved up to them with Katie on his left arm and Hermione on his right. "Mrs Bell, Mr Bell, I'm Harry Potter. This is Hermione Granger, my fiancée. I'm glad to meet you."

After a couple of sentences of small talk, Harry moved on to the next family. It took forty-five minutes to clear the platform.

Marie Caldwell led them out to the coach that had been arranged by the Squib Squad and used to pick up the Grangers and Remus at the Grangers' house. Harry was impressed. "Good job, Marie. This is very nice."

Dan nodded. "Better than driving, even. Harry, we have a couple of appointments. We have to be in court on the second of January at nine in the morning for your custody hearing, and we have Sirius Black's trial on the third at ten."

Harry nodded and Hermione whipped out her day planner and added the appointments and one for the Parkinsons between the Davises and the Greengrasses. "We have Lavender and her parents this evening at six, Harry."

Emma nodded. "Oh, and Hermione, our Floo is out-only. We decided it was safer that way. You can Floo out and either Harry can Apparate you home or you can use the trunks to get home."

Harry looked around. Constance Lipardi of the Squib Squad, a black-haired, brown-eyed, petite girl of fifteen with a killer body and a heart-shaped face accentuated by a deep widow's peak, put her hand on his arm. "The driver's a Squib, Harry, and there's a silencing charm around his position."

Harry nodded. "Good idea on the Floo, actually, Mrs Granger."

Dan nodded. "Thanks. Emma and I have given up on keeping you two apart, Harry." He grinned tightly. It had hurt to realize that Hermione was already committed to this boy, but Harry's obviously complete commitment assuaged it somewhat. That he was obviously good for her moved Dan along too. Besides, the Squib psychologist had shrugged and explained it to him and Emma exactly the way Lily, James, Remus, and Minerva had: "It's rare but it can happen." Dan was mostly over the protective-dad stage and approaching the sympathizing-father-in-law stage really quickly now.

"And Pansy, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione consulted her planner. "We can do her parents on the fifth at two, before the Greengrasses, Harry."

Emma blinked. "Harry, I thought you didn't like her. Also, didn't we write a draconian service agreement her father would be sure to decline?"

Hermione snorted. "Power apparently means more to them than we considered." She handed her mother the copy she had made of Pansy's contract. "Harry emasculating Draco made Harry her next most viable option."

Emma buzzed through the contract. "She signed this? It gives Harry complete rights to her. He can give her to others—anything, really, as long as he gets her pregnant at least once every five years. This is slavery! Who added these three clauses?"

Hermione sighed. "Her father."

Dan, having by now read through the modifications to the much-discussed contract, looked at Harry. "Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "She put up with quite a bit of rough handling by the girls during the negotiation, Dan. I never touched her until she signed. It was really odd; she struggled until I told her she could stop whenever she wanted to. For some reason that lit her fuse, so to speak. She served all the girls, signed the contract, and then served me. She serviced me orally twice, actually."

Dan blinked while Emma nodded. "A subservient girl. Hermione, you have to be careful with her. She'll get the same urge to dominate the others as soon as she's comfortable in her position with Harry, just like you, missy. Harry, she'll want you to 'force' her like Hermione does. You need to be careful, too."

Glynnis Householder, another of the Squib Squad, groaned. "Oh gods, not another one." She was grinning hugely, though.

Hermione gave her the tongue. "You like it and you know it, bitch!"

"Hermione!"

"Sorry, Mum."

Dan looked at Harry, who had his face in his hands, and sputtered and then laughed uproariously. Harry pouted. Emma came to his defense. "Dan! Really! It's fine, Harry, I'll help you with Mistress Bushy-Head."

"Mum!"

"Hush, Hermione!" Now Hermione was pouting, and the rest of the bus was laughing.

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Near Potter's Bar, England, early evening 23 Dec 1991, the Brown house

"Well?"

"Shhh, Allen, I'm reading."

Allen Brown looked at his wife, Tracey, then his daughter, Lavender. "You're happy with this, Lavender?"

Lavender sighed. "Daddy, Harry is great! Powerful, rich, and he cares about us. He'll never hurt us—well, he will when he won't marry us, but he does love Hermione. Never mind, you wouldn't understand. Yes, I'm very happy, Daddy."

Allen blinked and started to reply when Tracey spoke. "It's all in order, Lavender. A service contract to the head of a noble house, perfectly honorable given the current conditions. Who helped you with this, Lavender?"

"We looked it up, Mum. Harry's Mum and Dad's painting, Remus Lupin and Amelia Bones and Professor McGonagall reviewed it, and we signed it."

"How amenable would your lord be to changing it to a house-to-house contract, Lavender?"

"We can ask him in thirty minutes, Mum."

"Wait just a minute. Why would I want to obligate the house?" Allen asked.

Tracey rolled her eyes. Hufflepuffs were hard-working and as faithful as apostles, but they didn't think long term. Still, it was good for her inner Ravenclaw to have some grounding. "The Dark Lord is still active, Allen, or someone like him is. Muggles are attacked often and the Muggle-born population, mysteriously, has not grown since his fall. Logically it should have, as there are more Muggles all the time. House Potter is creakingly ancient, so noble they should bleed blue, enormously wealthy, and if the boy is anything at all he'll command significant support amongst the light and neutral families. We're in on the ground floor here, thanks to Lavender."

"I'll have to meet this wizard and talk to him first, Tracey."

"Of course, dear. Now, Lavender, come along and let's talk for a moment." Allen turned to his small bar in the sitting room. He definitely did not want to hear the details that he expected Tracey was about to cover very thoroughly.

Allen was right. "So, Lavender, what have you done with this wizard? That contract would allow you anything; more importantly, it saves him from anything."

Lavender didn't even blush. "Harry has had me every way possible. My mistress likes to have him use us."

Tracey frowned. "Your mistress? This Hermione girl? Every way?"

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, and yes. If you want the details, I can give you a memory and you can use one of the Pensieves in your office, Mum."

Tracey was a clerk for a law firm that handled both wizarding and mundane business. "Don't be fresh, young lady. What about what you want, Lavender? Do you get what you want, or does your 'mistress' control that, too?"

Lavender laughed. "It's a game, Mum—fun, but still a game; and yes, I get what I want. We let Hermione dominate us and then she feels guilty and we get to use her as a submissive. She's very talented."

Tracey shook her head and chuckled. "You were so boy-crazy I never thought you'd be into witches even as an experiment, or 'practice', as we used to call it. I guess boarding school has changed, though. We didn't do anything with the wizards until third and fourth year. Of course, by the end of fourth year there wasn't a virgin left, except for that one religious girl. What was her name? Anyway, I think she was lying; she spent a lot of time in broom cupboards."

Lavender shook her head. "No change. The boys are still idiots. Only Harry is different. Well, among the first through third years. He's respectful and caring and protects those who can't protect themselves. He's modest, and so handsome. You won't believe it."

Tracey smiled at her daughter. "Good. I can start working on a brother or sister for you since you've settled now."

"Why did you wait until now, Mum? I would have loved a little sister."

Tracey patted her daughter's cheek. "We aren't Weasleys, baby. Accidental magic can kill, and let's face it, you weren't exactly the most stable girl around. It was all high drama until now. Fun most of the time, but two of you would be dangerous. Anyway, I'm only thirty-three and have had you already, so it's fairly safe for me to have more. Remember, most witches don't go through the change until up in their eighties. I could probably have four more kids and wait between them until they went to school if I wanted to. I won't, though—but we did want at least one more."

Lavender hugged her mum. "It's five till. We'd better wait in the entry hall."

Tracey nodded and put her arm around her daughter. They walked out to the entry hall, where they found Allen waiting. The fireplace flared green and a matched couple spun to a halt and stepped gracefully from the grate. Allen watched intently, as did Tracey. The wizard—and there was no doubt this was a wizard—was five feet tall with messy black hair, bright green eyes, and a confident smile. He was apparently well muscled and healthy, maybe a hundred and ten pounds. The witch—and there was no doubt of that either—was also five feet tall with bushy brown hair, bright brown eyes, and a developing figure that hinted at a spectacular young woman lurking inside, slightly coltish as was the nature of teenage girls but still a healthy-looking girl, perhaps ninety pounds.

The wizard extended his hand after looking at his companion and waved a wandless, mild cleaning charm over them both. "Harry Potter. You must be Mr. Brown. A pleasure to meet you, sir."

Allen shook his hand and then was introduced to Hermione Granger. He introduced Tracey and they all followed her to the sitting room, where Harry seated Hermione and then sat down quietly beside her. Allen had a thought. "Drink, Harry?"

Harry smiled. "I'll be happy to get them for us, Mr. Brown, if you would just point me?"

Allen blinked. "Erm, no, that's fine, Harry. I'll get them, but what would you like? The ladies are having tea, I'm sure."

"Oh, an alcoholic drink. No thank you, sir, I don't drink. Tea will be fine for me also."

"Daddy!"

Allen cringed; he knew that tone. Harry saved him. "It's fine, Lav. I'd want to know too, and that was fairly subtle."

Allen frowned and Harry smiled. "I really don't drink though, not even butterbeer, not yet, anyway. A few of the members of the group I grew up with tried drinking. It always made them silly, morose, then ill. I was never very impressed with it."

Allen laughed. "Try just drinking an ounce or two, Harry, or one or two beers. It's not quite so bad then, and sometimes a shot of Ogden's just makes a bad day at the office fade away. But right you are: no need to start that until you have an office to go to, eh?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "So what are your questions? I mean, Lavender's told us so much about you two and she's such a fine witch, it's easy to see the apple didn't fall far from the tree. I feel like we know you all already."

Tracey smiled. "Flatterer. You can keep this one, Lavender!"

The group laughed and the ice was broken. They all spent a pleasant couple of hours in what was a very nice question and answer period, covering everything from school to politics.

Later, after Mr. and Mrs. Brown were sworn to silence and shown the trunk network and Harry had gone home with Hermione, Tracey was curled into Allen's side in their bed. "Well, that's a good start on Lavender's sibling. Thank you, dear."

Allen smiled. "No, thank you. Are we crazy, though? I mean, first we let Lavender get involved in this, and then I'm left wishing Harry was my son."

Tracey laughed. "He is a power, no question. Hermione, too—she's quite brilliant, frighteningly, even. No wonder Lavender's grades are so much better this year, if she's in charge of the study group.

"I don't think we're crazy to let them do this. Lavender would experiment anyway. Oh, don't get your back up now. You already let her lover leave unscathed, which she and I appreciate, by the way, since she managed to find a decent one. Anyhow, as I was saying, Lavender would experiment. She's been attracted to boys for a couple of years now. We couldn't have picked a better boy, and he comes with built-in sisters for her—girls her own age who she can talk to and who can, together perhaps, regulate him."

Allen lifted his head. "Darling, I love you, but in this you're wrong. They're not regulating Harry. He is regulating them. If they had their way he would never see the light of day again and one of them would be mounted every moment he was awake, and perhaps if he got an erection in his sleep as well."

Tracey giggled. "If Hermione and Lavender are any guide, I would agree. Did you see them looking at him every time a question was the least bit personal?"

Allen nodded. "And I saw his eye-rolls. You're right, too. He's good for her to at least 'experiment' on. If she has to learn, she could have done much, much worse."

Tracey nodded. "And the things I hear are happening!" She shuddered. "There won't be any of that foolishness with Lavender. Harry would kill somebody."

Allen smiled. "From what I hear down at the pub someone has been nutting Slytherins at Hogwarts. It's apparently a dispute between one ancient and noble house and all the Darker noble houses."

Tracey raised her head and looked into Allen's eyes. "By 'down at the pub' I take it you mean around the Ministry? Good. Someone needed to put a leash on them years ago. Dumbledore won't do it. Harry did. Good for him, and Lavender."

Tracey paused. She had been doing some research on a case like this. "I have a case like this at work. A young scion was emasculated and the house was seeking wergild. In this case, though, they want an heir. I researched the potential remedies, and the only way it could be done was for a patriarch to give his wife or the eldest daughter of the house for the purpose. I can't see it happening, but you never know with these Darker houses. Hey, wait a minute—why couldn't the head make his own heir?"

Allen grinned. "Down at the pub they say it's the Dark magic. I don't see how, though, or wouldn't it have affected the wives?"

Tracey shook her head. "The only two Dark witches I know of are Lestrange and Carrow. Lestrange was apparently barren and Carrow was never afforded the opportunity, let's say. The Death Eater wives were just that, wives of Death Eaters, not Death Eaters themselves."

Allen lay thinking. "So Harry could be forced to impregnate one of these matriarchs or daughters and then be forced to give the child to some Death Eater to raise? I don't like the chances of whoever tries to force that issue."

Tracey shuddered and curled closer. "You'll be out sick that day." Allen chuckled.

Lavender pushed herself off the wall silently and padded to her bedroom with a perfect little Mona Lisa smile. Mum and Dad would speak to the Bells, Patils, and Abbots. The order of meetings would pay off as the Slytherins in the coven had planned, leaving the toughest for last; and now that the Parkinsons were committed, the Greengrasses would have to get on board, and Hermione and Padma's trap play would work.

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Back in Crowley, Dan looked at a smiling Harry and Hermione and shook his head. "So you had a good evening then, children?"

Hermione nodded and over the next thirty minutes she filled her parents in. Harry even managed to get a few words in. Finally Emma shooed them off to bed at about eleven, and Hermione dragged Harry away to her bedroom.

Harry stood in the middle of the room looking sheepish as Hermione went about getting ready for bed.

Downstairs Dan looked at Emma. "Have you shown Harry where he's sleeping?"

Emma looked at Dan and blushed. "Oh, my god!"

Dan stood. "I'll take that as a no, then."

He took off upstairs, and with Emma in hot pursuit opened Hermione's door to find a blushing, fully dressed Harry telling a panty- and camisole-clad Hermione, "But it's your parents' house, Hermione. We should at least ask."

Dan smiled. "I like him, Hermione. You can keep him, but not in your room until you're married."

"We are, Dad! He's just being all noble and stubborn."

"WHAT?"

Hermione cringed. "Uh, well, kind of—you see…."

Finally, at one in the morning, Harry drifted off to sleep in Hermione's bed. She had stopped crying now and Harry had pulled her in to him. The row with her mum had been spectacular and shocking to Harry and Dan both. Unfortunately for them, they agreed with Hermione on her big "ceremony later" plan.

For some reason, mainly because Emma was as avid a reader as Hermione, Hermione wearing the Potter Matriarch's ring had stopped Emma cold from questioning the whole "sort of married" thing, but then she'd taken off on a jag about wedding planning.

Dan had narrowly avoided a night on the couch. Harry sighed. It had ended okay, but that was an experience he intended never to repeat. Dan and Emma would be read into everything from now on.

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That will be ere the set of sun

On the morning of Monday the twenty-seventh of December Harry's eyes popped open at four forty-five. He slipped back from Hermione with a raging hard-on and smiled evilly. Hermione rolled onto her back, still sleeping, and Harry slid down her belly, nuzzling her. He hesitated when she mumbled, keeping her asleep but getting her more and more excited.

Harry worked his way down and nuzzled into her folds. He licked, nibbled, and sucked on the moaning witch, studiously avoiding her clit. When she was well lubed he slid back up, stopping at her nipples for a moment, and then fully sheathed himself in her in one thrust.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as she convulsed in an orgasm and she leaned up and took Harry's lips. Her legs snaked up and around him, and with her subconscious in control she rammed herself on him again and again. After her second orgasm she rolled them over, rose up, and turned around. She sat on Harry's head and buried him in her throat. Harry only lasted a few more strokes, and as he came in her mouth he nipped her clit gently. Hermione locked in orgasm again.

Harry rolled them back over, still buried in her mouth, and tried to pull away but Hermione threw her arms around his hips and dug her fingers into his ass as she sucked for all she was worth. And pulled herself all the way down Harry's cock. Harry finally managed to escape by leaning over her and tonguing her to her fourth orgasm. Hermione burped and giggled. "Beg pardon. Hey! Come back here and fuck me."

"Hermione!"

"Not me? Hmm, how about Christine Mulligan, then? That little redheaded Irish slut needs another good eight inches. We should make her get off the pill and fuck her full of babies. The Irish are good for babies." Hermione got up and went to her Harry trunk, gloriously naked.

Harry rolled his eyes and caught her halfway there. Hermione was soon on her hands and knees on the rug with Harry buried in her. "Oh yes! Doggy, too—good, treat me like your bitch, Harry."

"Hermione, shut up."

"Come on, Harry, fuck the bitch harder!"

Harry rolled his eyes and gave in to what she was trying to get him to do. He drew back and slapped her rounded ass hard. Hermione squealed and sprayed him and herself. Her upper half collapsed on the rug and Harry held her hips up as he drove in her hard, finally releasing in her as she clenched on him. Harry rolled Hermione over and leaned up and took her lips in a burning kiss. "You are crazy."

"Yes, master, all for you."

"How do you know I like it?"

Hermione licked her lips and wriggled her bottom. "I can taste it and you're still leaking out of me. That's the first time you made me squirt, though. We'll have to remember that. You'll need to hit me more often."

"Hermione!"

"Please, Harry? That was great. You can't imagine how it feels." Harry was slowly sawing in and out of her. "Although this is very nice too."

Harry smiled. "But we have to stop. We should do PT."

"But this supposedly burns twelve hundred calories an hour, and I can take you for a hell of a good abdominal workout, remember?"

"Yes, but then you have honeymooner's syndrome."

Hermione flexed her hips upward. "I don't mind, and you can shag the others while I heal."

Harry's eyes flared and he pinned her arms above her head and rammed into her hard. "I don't want them."

Hermione smiled and breathed, "Fuck me then, master, like you mean it."

Hermione got her wish. Harry pounded her viciously. She smiled. She wasn't in the mood to make love. She wanted him to dominate her, and he did.

They finally made it into the trunk mansion at five thirty and Hermione went straight for an analgesic and an anti-inflammatory potion.

Eliza found herself pinned to the back of the couch and Harry keeping warm in her. "Hermione! Again? If you're going to wind him up like this every day…mmmm, never mind, wind him up every day. Oh gods, yes, Harry, right there!"

Harry had stuck a finger into her along with his cock and was rubbing the little wrinkled patch of tissue on the top wall of her vagina. He watched interestedly as he pushed Eliza into and then held her in a series of orgasms. The other witches entered the room and smiled at Eliza and Harry as they prepared for PT.

When everyone had arrived, Hermione pulled Harry off Eliza, finished him with her mouth, and levitated Eliza along with them to the Potter Castle so they could do PT on the grounds. Using the track Otto and the other elves had prepared, Harry prepared to cross-country-ski five miles instead of doing their run. Out on the track Eliza kept falling and everyone chuckled at her dazed face as they helped her up.

When they returned, Dan and Emma were just heading out, along with Remus, Amelia Bones, and the Browns, Bells, Cadwalladers, Patils, Abbots, Joneses, and most of the Squib parents. Gwenog walked over to the steaming Hermione. "Lady Potter, have you thought any more about our offer?"

Hermione nodded. "I don't mind, Gwenog, but again, I'm not the one you're up against. Harry has to agree, wouldn't you say?"

Gwenog nodded. "He's so different. Usually any wizard we look at tries to get between our legs. Now that I'm sure of you, though, we'll work on him. I'll tell you what, though—the other witches, just like me, aren't going to go for artificial insemination. We want him."

Harry had walked up. "Uh, you know I'm eleven, right?"

Gwenog eyed him up and down boldly. "And you can shag any number of teenage witches silly. Yes, we know. If we're going to carry your children we want your attention, Harry. Not some Muggle with a turkey baster. The witches who agree to this are generally at the end of their most active playing time. We'll always be older than you, so what's the difference? You'll find us attractive and add us to your little harem for a while, or you won't. We accept that. We'll care for your children in the best way we know how, and if you don't approve, we'll lose them. We read the contract."

Gwenog, wearing a spandex body suit under her robes, opened them and watched as Harry took her in. Large but firm breasts, prominent hard nipples. Narrow waist flaring to broad hips surrounding a flat, hard stomach and very nice, well-muscled legs. Gwenog chuckled throatily. "Yes, Harry, there are benefits for us both." Her brother Lester walked over.

"Again, Gwen? Pardon us, Harry—oh, still coming at two, right?"

Harry nodded and Lester smiled and toddled off, dragging his sister. A furiously blushing Megan apologized. "I'm so sorry, Harry. Aunt Gwen is—well, she's—"

"Horny and wants a belly full of Harry's sprog," Nym supplied.

Megan nodded. "Yes."

Harry laughed and hugged Megan, leading them all away. "We noticed. Hot, though."

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Back in the Castle, down where you would expect dungeons, Harry and the coven soaked in a very warm swimming pool. Eliza came over to Harry and sat in his lap gingerly after checking that he wasn't hard. She really couldn't take another go right now.

"So, Harry, what's the plan for tonight?"

"A quiz, Eliza? Again?"

"Yes, Harry."

"First we go to the Jones's. If I can escape without being raped by Gwenog, we will then Floo through to your father's country house near Wood Norton. Your father Lincoln isn't a Death Eater, but his brother Walden is. I'll answer his questions as I have all the others, and we'll see what happens. I'll be pleasant and everything will be fine. Your father may test me with a duel."

"He will test you, Harry. Use your wand and your natural quickness. He isn't looking for spectacular, he's looking for you to be able to defend me. Don't tell him anything important until he's sworn to you."

Harry nodded and wriggled. Eliza dove off his lap and swam away. "Oh no! Someone else can fix that for you. I can't believe you got that while we were talking about my father!"

"Phht! I got that while your perfect soft ass was rubbing it. Hmmm."

"No! No buggering me until after Daddy is sworn."

"That's blackmail!"

"An incentive, Harry."

Nym stopped the argument by sitting in Harry's lap, directly on his hard cock. "Who do you want, Harry?"

"Grrrrr, you, Nym, I've told you."

"Spoilsport. Here, do Jodie Foster. You like her in that creepy sheep movie."

Harry laughed. "Silence of the Lambs, and she's a lesbian."

"Not right now, she isn't!"

Emma shook her head. "That's so strange."

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Eventually everyone ended up in the sitting room of Potter Castle, and James and Lily joined them via a landscape painting there. A nice, easy Monday passed as they considered the holiday so far. Harry was happy, of course, but he was easy; as long as he and the girls weren't threatened, he was happy.

The Squib Squad and their Witch Auxiliary had been busy producing and acquiring more and more items: study guides for all subjects, bodice-rippers, and an array of study aids were developed and put on sale. Flash cards, an O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. jeopardy-style game, magical Trivial Pursuit, and all kind and manner of electronic devices were being disassembled, tested, and prepared for production. Rune-driven devices and an odd "dial-a-spell" device were in various stages of research and development.

The dial-a-spell was a stone with a pointer surrounded by spells. You dialed it to the spell you wanted and pushed a button, and et voila! Your dishes washed or dried themselves, your laundry washed, dried, and folded itself, or the room the device was in cleaned itself. Emma Granger loved it. The next step was to add a cooking dial-a-meal dial-a-spell, but that one was proving complicated and would be expensive.

When they went over Daphne's books, the adults were amazed that she was doing ten thousand a week gross and making a profit of around four thousand Galleons. Of course, it helped that she was the sole supplier to Scrivenshafts of nib pens and wire-bound, micro-perforated parchment notebooks. This market would be cyclical, but with the other products they were developing it looked like a solid, stable enterprise.

Henri Patil was full of ideas for production and wholesale sales. The Bells, Abbots, and Joneses all wanted in on the deal too, and it appeared that they were going to form a partnership with the Squib Squad and Witch Auxiliary.

Meanwhile, the mums were happy with Harry and how attentive and supportive of their daughters he was, as the Squib Squad mothers had been. The fathers found him to be a pleasant, modest, helpful boy. A good leader, too, and a powerful young wizard. He would do very nicely for their daughters. If they had to go through having a wizard, they could do much worse, at least from the stories down at the pub.

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At two, Harry and Hermione stepped gracefully from the Jones's Floo into the maelstrom that was the extended Jones family. Harry was at first stunned and then dragged into discussion after discussion, sometimes involving a little work around the house; rebuilding the basement of the gigantic rambling mansion seeming to be the current "little work". Hermione was immediately pulled away and into the Jones witchs' world of cooking, straightening, and talking about people whose names she would never remember. Even with her memory this huge family overran her abilities, and soon enough the women had her loosened up and just going with it all.

While Harry pitched in with a will in the basement, learning construction spells and amazing the Jones men with his power, Hermione watched the buxom, handsome Jones mums, wives, girlfriends, and sisters. Melba, the matriarch of this tough family of magical builders, liked what she saw. The witch needed educating in the duties of a matriarch, but the innate skills were there. She listened attentively and processed rapidly. She was fair in her judgments, too. It was obvious the girl had power; all in all a fit companion and helpmate for her youngest daughter's warlock. "Hermione, dear, you do know we can all see that ring. You can stop pretending to be other than what you are, Lady Potter."

Hermione blushed and Melba chuckled. "There's a good lass. Now what does your warlock intend?"

"Mother!"

"Shhh, Megan. Your head witch can speak for herself, and don't think I haven't seen what you've been doing—and your aunt, prancing around here with her tail in the air, trying to get topped. You could just go drag him down, Gwenog."

"Phht! Tried it, Melba. He had me tied up and stuck to the ceiling before I got a hand on him. Now I'm negotiating with Lady Potter."

Melba shook her head. "You'll never change. Well, Lady Potter?"

Hermione sighed. "Harry really just wants to be left alone, but somehow things happen near him and he won't see anyone abused. Especially girls—errh, women."

Melba grinned. "Lester was the same way, still is. Left alone he'd happily spend his entire life building on this house or fixing it. Now, what about the sex? Why are you allowing that?"

"I'm not, actually. I kind of have to force it. The girls and witches are safe with Harry and he enjoys them immensely. He won't stay with any of them, though. They have to stay with him, if that makes sense."

"Oh, aye, I've had the same problem through the years with Lester. He's safe for them and they want him, but you have to hit him over the head with them before he takes the hint. It worked out, though; nice big clan, and we need fear nothing."

Hermione nodded. "The wizarding world is odd: everyone walking around armed, and it seems that fully half of them are crazy."

Melba nodded. "More than seems. You all stick together, though, and you'll see through." Hermione beamed at her. "Now, go get your warlock, dearie. Time to beard the Dark. Just remember, they want the same things: their families, safe and whole."

Hermione nodded and an ecstatic Megan dragged her away to find Harry. They followed the sound of the thumping and banging. "Hermione, that was great. Mother approves! I can stay with Harry as long as I want to. Thank you sooooo much!" Megan spun and pulled Hermione to her and kissed her full on the lips.

Hermione was a little dazed. "But I didn't do anything."

"Except be you. I knew Mother would approve—well, I was fairly certain. Aunt Gwenog trying to jump in made me very sure, and now Mother likes you. We're good."

Hermione followed along, thinking, More than seems, indeed!

Back in the giant kitchen Gwenog stood and Melba looked at her. "Gwenog, you'll not queer this for Megan. You're older, and you'll know if the warlock is upset or uncomfortable with you and your coven. If he is, you will back off. You'll not be taking other lovers when you're with him, either, nor will your witches. Clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Melba nodded and went back to tomorrow's bread dough; kneading bread always left her mind clear to think. Not that this required much thought. They were a good lad and lass; they would find their way. The witches and these Squibs with them would have a very nice life. Dumbledore was wrong about these lads. If he couldn't see Potter was the Boy Who Lived, he needed a new cane. A white one.

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Meanwhile, in the basement, Harry had impressed all the Jones wizards by keeping up with Lester and learning spells easily. Lester finally called a break and he and Harry sat while the others knocked down the temporary cribbing from the groin vault he and Harry had just laid. "So, warlock, how's me daughter, then?"

Harry tensed and Lester laughed. "We all know the facts of life here, Harry. I can see she loves you. I've seen the way you treat her. I know you have your primary, but she'll pick others for you. Perhaps it's their nature, but they do it. Megan seems happy to be part of it. Don't hurt her and you'll have no trouble with me."

Harry relaxed and sighed. "There's no way to get them to stop?"

Lester laughed long and hard; the other Jones males joined him. "It's been fifty years for me, Harry. She still finds 'em somewhere. Widows now, to be sure, and not so many, but still…no, there's no way I know of to get her to stop. Still and all, they've all married well or seem happy, and it keeps her happy, so who are we to say no?"

"So they'll go off and marry, then?"

"Oh, aye, Harry, some will, some even do it for love. Of course, others will find cover wizards like those two poufters over there." He pointed at the two biggest men in the room. "They're good blokes, just don't take any showers with them." The Jones men laughed again.

Harry put his head in his hands just as Megan and Hermione came into the huge room and looked around in awe. "Daddy, what have you done to Harry?"

"Sorry, lass, I told him the awful truth about you witches."

"Daddy!" Megan stamped her foot.

The Jones men roared and Harry smiled. He stood and offered Hermione his right arm and Megan his left. "Mr. Jones, thank you, I had a wonderful time."

Lester grinned. "Come back any time, Harry. We've the whole north wing to revault yet."

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Hermione and Megan steered Harry away amidst shouted goodbyes. Megan got them through the hearth and sighed contentedly. Gwenog walked up and hugged her. "Aye, ye chose well, lass."

"You too, Auntie. Worth the wait?"

"I think it will be, Megan. He's a power and she's his match."

Megan just nodded. Then giggled. "They have no idea, either."

Gwenog held her at arm's length for a moment. "You all are so bad!"