FicWad

Disclaimer: Harry ain't mine. Nor is the train, the carts, the tickets or anything you might recognise from JKR's books. If you haven't read those books, or if you're out to put me in trouble or give me grief for this, get the hell off my page. So there.



"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,


”Hello there Hermione, Luna, Ginny. I've had a brilliant summer. How was yours?”


Luna opened her mouth to say something when two missiles launched right next to her. The reddish streak won, and Ginny was caught by Harry and hoisted into the air by those massive, muscular arms. As he lowered her into a tight embrace, she did her best to cover his face with kisses. He laughed, and appeared to look for something around her neck. As he found it, he did something to her neck. Something blue flared for a split second, and Ginny went limp in his arms. She did whisper something to him, though, before she staggered to the side, leaving room for Hermione.

Hermione stared at the young man before her. The tight vest could almost be a coat of paint, as it showed his muscles off almost as if he was naked. That thought immediately made her eyes go downwards on their own accord, and the monstrous impossibility that reached down the leg of his tight pants made her drop her jaw. As she didn't move, he did. He took the closing step slowly, and closed her in those strong arms, making it very clear to her that if he wanted to have her, she would be powerless to stop him, even in the unlikely event that she would want to. She felt his breath against her ear, and suddenly, her undies were much too wet for comfort. She felt something ripple, like warm water against her skin, as he whispered to her.

“Thanks for the letter, Hermione. I do remember your post scriptum, and I intend to hold you to that. Right here, perhaps?”
She groaned in his ear as she felt her undies disappear. The rippling sensation travelled upwards, and suddenly her bra was gone as well.

“So, this really turns you on, doesn't it? I can remove all your clothes right here, and perhaps even make you mine right here, making you make good on your promise to swallow right here.”

She bit his ear. He inhaled from the brief pain, and growled at her, making her skirt vanish under her robe. She shuddered in a light, very light orgasm, that wouldn't keep her for more than a few minutes, she reckoned. He had claimed her, right there on the platform, and she hadn't even said a word. It was just that she couldn't think of anything sensible to say, so she just whispered in his ear.

“You, Mister Potter, had better fuck me soon, or I will do you on the stairs to the main gate.”

He separated from her with a wicked smile.

“Which would you prefer, I wonder? Now, I just have to greet Luna before I lose my muscles for a while.”

Luna had approached, as had most of the people on the platform. That included a certain Commander Steiner, who was looking at Harry speculatively. Harry turned to him first.

“At ease, Commander. If you wish, I can relieve you, and take over the guard.”

“Thank you, Lord Potter, but I'd rather we double-post it, if you don't mind.”

“Not at all. Carry on.” And Luna flowed into his arms.

“Hello there, Goddess.”

“Hello Harry. I didn't save myself for you. I'm sorry.”

“We all have our paths, and I didn't expect you to. You're my very good friend, and yes, I'm not affected by your artificial charms. Good work, though. We should discuss an alliance soon, you and I.”

“We should. Do you like anal? Because you're just too big for me right now, but I can practice a bit.”

“I don't really have specific interests like that, but watch this.”

A rippling effect seemed to cross over his body, making him shrink a little in height, and a lot in width. He was once again the scrawny little boy in ill-fitting clothes and mended glasses and unruly, slightly too long hair.

“I can morph pretty much everything.”

“Good. Then I really suggest you to fuck my arse. It's apparently very nice, and all the semen makes my boobs silky smooth.”

Harry laughed. She was certainly reliable. Even as a Goddess, she was still Luna to the core. The really great part about their little conversation was that no one had heard it well enough, and no one had really seen what happened. As he turned around to face the crowd, he saw a lot of wide open eyes diminish to more normal ogling standards. Once again, he was what they expected, except that he was alive. He did see a lot of familiar faces in the crowd, most notably Tracey Davis large, beautiful violet eyes that were locked on his face with a dreamy expression. There were Dean, once again with his little sister in tow. He smiled at her, nodded at him, and cast an artful look of consternation towards Tracey, before taking the lead and basically ran to the train. Well inside, he dodged people's attention with a subtle Notice-Me-Not charm, which enabled him to pass unnoticed until he found an empty compartment. The girls were only a few seconds behind him, and a lot more ruffled once they managed to push their way through the throngs of people who wanted to gape at The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again.
As the girls tried to catch their breath, not having his never ending stamina, he asked them in a hopeless voice.

“I bet lots of people didn't die this summer. What's so special about me?”

Ginny laughed, Luna looked like she was contemplating a list and Hermione just gaped.
After a second she seemed to compose herself, as Ginny nodded to Luna, and the two fifth-years withdrew to the window, leaving the soon-to-be sixth-years to talk about mature things.

“Where have you been? Did you get your books? What happened to your muscles? Is it really you?” She would have gone on for a while longer, Harry thought as he held his hand up. He thought for a second before he answered.

“My dearest little Ermine, I fled to Sweden, where I learned the ways of the Sorcerer, the Serpent and the Smith. I have met the Great Serpent of the North, the Norse Goddess of love and beauty, I've married, and have three lovely bonded mistresses to boot. I am an animagus who currently intends to screw you silly right here in this very compartment.” Then he smiled. He had spoken Norse.

“What?”

“I just answered your questions.”

“I sure did. You may not understand that particular language, but if you're very nice to me, I can say it all in another.”

She blushed, paled and then blushed again.

“How nice?”
Harry grinned, and then he sang. His voice filled the compartment, reverberating from the ceiling, and making the door slam shut. A fairly powerful Notice-Me-Not charm was layered into the windows, and an illusion of a filled room was added for good measure. What Hermione noticed was that Harry grabbed her, and pulled her in front of him, facing the window. The corridor outside was filed with students and parents rushing hither and yon, and Harry's hands was slowly slid upwards, and her breath suddenly grew ragged. He moved his hands towards her breasts outside her robes, giving her plenty of time to stop him. She didn't. As he reached her breasts, she bent her head back and moaned.

“Look at them, Hermione. A tiny film of my magic is all that keeps them from seeing you right now. When I take this robe off, they will see that you don't have anything on below your waist. Would you like that?”

“Yes ... yes please. Take it off. Let them see.”

He did. He also sent a quiet word to his highly amused wife, who used the Einharjer communicator to relay his message to an even more amused recipient.

“I think I'll need my full strength soon, so excuse me while I drop the disguise.”
His arms that encircled her suddenly filled out, and she felt his muscular chest against her back as he caressed her. He slowly unbuttoned her blouse, and opened it, and Hermione felt like he was displaying her, his trophy, to the world. He caressed her breasts and teased her nipples for what seemed like an eternity, as people moved in the hall outside. The Patils, Seamus and Dean, Neville and the Bones girl, Susan. The last two stopped right outside to talk, and Hermione was staring at them, transfixed, until Harry spoke again.

“Hermione? I seem to have a growing problem a bit down. Why don't you inspect it, and see if there's something you can do about it?”
She didn't hesitate for a second. She spun around, gave him a quick, searing kiss and knelt.
It frightened her a bit. Growing? As in not yet fully grown? She grabbed the strings and undid the knot in a split second. She loosened the lacing, and began to pull those tight leather pants down, and followed the revealing of his member with unbelieving eyes. It just didn't stop! As she had unveiled the whole thing, it sprung up a bit, but it was clearly not at full size. She gave the crown a tentative lick, and found the taste most pleasing, and Harry's moan even more so. She quickly took it in her mouth, and found the sensation of his member hitting the back of her mouth to be oddly pleasing. She applied some serious suction, and began bobbing her head. She didn't stop as she felt Harry reach down to grab her waist, and she didn't stop as he turned her upside down. As he touched her enlarged clit with his tongue, she did stop for a second to cry out, but then she continued to try to get his enormous member down her throat. Harry's tongue was amazing. It reached deep inside her, rubbed against her G-spot and caressed her very cervix. When she glanced out the window, and saw the people there, just a few inches away, she came. In the sensation of an orgasm with a large cock in her mouth, something in her throat must have relaxed, because suddenly, the massive member slid home effortlessly, and she enjoyed the feeling of him throbbing inside her body. Harry, however took this to be the moment to actually lift her off, and turn her around. It did hurt a bit, but it was even more exciting, to be handled like that, like a toy, by those incredibly strong arms. She didn't quite understand how he did it, but suddenly she found herself held by his hands under her arms, and with her knees bent over his elbows. The thing that occupied her mind was that her wet little quim was in direct contact with Harry's cock. She was only a formal virgin, having lost the biological to a vibrator years ago, but she did feel like a real one as Harry slowly began to lower her onto his rod with their eyes locked together. She whimpered a little as her walls gave way for the monster, but as soon as he was far enough inside to stretch her, rubbing a little against her clitoris and G-spot, she closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure. She opened them again, of course, to look out at the people, and at the two forgotten girls inside the compartment. Harry hadn't forgotten about them, however.

“Ginny? In the right pocket of my trousers is a necklace like yours with the Hagalaz rune. Could you put it on Hermione, please?”

“Of course. Is it a conductor of some sort?” She quickly found the necklace, and fastened the clasp around the panting girl's neck.

“Actually, it's a limiter. Without these necklaces, hand made by Freja herself, it's addictive.”

“I see. Well, it's on. Hit her.”

He did. Hermione could never have imagined such pure bliss as she felt when the blue crackling fire invaded her body and told it to become pure Pleasure. She felt her juices flow, as her orgasms tore through her, and in the wake of that, Harry buried his full length inside her, stretching her incredibly wide. Heaven continued as he spun her around, and held her suspended on his cock, facing the window. Susan and Neville were still outside, and Neville was apparently showing her some magic, as he held a glowing purple sphere in his hand. Suddenly he appeared to hear something from his collar, and suddenly, he and Susan turned to the window, looking straight at Hermione.

“Hello there, Hermione,” Neville said.

“You do look like you're enjoying yourself, “ Susan added, and that was the last thing Hermione heard, as the orgasm that this revelation produced burned right through her body, and took her mind along. Harry gently lifted the unconscious girl off his cock and placed her gently in a seat, allowing her clothes to flow back on. As Luna opened the door for Neville and Susan, Ginny more or less swallowed Harry whole. Revelling in the combined flavour of Hermione and Harry, she took him as far down as she could, but she also remembered the last time. She waved for Luna to join her, and the self-proclaimed Sex Goddess steadied the huge cock with her enormous bristols as Ginny busied herself with the crown. After too few seconds, Harry gave the customary warning and received the customary response. Ginny bowed and licked his balls as Luna's mouth claimed the crown, and the first thick ropes of semen. When she couldn't keep up, Ginny took over and by joining forces like that, not one drop was wasted. As the two girls readjusted their clothes and Harry flowed his pants up from his knees, where they had been threatening to trip him up the whole time, Neville and Susan applauded the trio.

“Very well done, you two,” Susan said. “I've seen a Huldr fail to take it all, and they live on the stuff.”

“You should have seen his wife the morning after the wedding. She looked like she had been swimming in yoghurt.” Neville added.

“Wife?” Ginny asked, sounding a little hurt.

“Don't worry about it, Ginny,” Susan said. “She's very understanding, and since I talked to her just a minute ago, I know she doesn't mind you screwing him at all. No one woman could handle that on her own. Besides, she finds you quite scrumptious, and wouldn't mind any of you herself.”

Ginny looked at Harry speculatively.

“So, Harry. Ever been double-teamed?” she smirked at him.

“Ginny, there's a very limited number of things I haven't done. I've never had more than five women in bed at the same time, but I could have increased that number any time in the last weeks if I wanted, but I have a thing about bedding mother and daughter simultaneously.”

“You mean, you could ... Damn, Harry. You can't be serious!”

“He is, Ginny,” Neville said with a smile. “Two of his Consorts have their mothers living at the same place, and they are very interested in getting a piece of our little Harry-bear here. Right tasty ladies, they are, too.”

Susan looked at him with interest.
“So, Nev, you want to do Saga? You did her daughter, after all.”

“No, not really. Saga would probably screw the life out of me. Disa almost did, and she's much more controlled than her mum.”

Hermione had awakened by now, but she had a drowsy, silly grin on her face when she spoke up.

“The three of you must have had some summer. So, Harry, how many steady girls do you really have now?”

“Well, there's my wife of course, the infamous Ms. Anne Thrope, and then I have three Consorts and then there's Tonks. She's not a consort, but she's oath bound to me, and I'm afraid she's addicted to my Passionfire. If it wasn't for those necklaces, you would be too.”

Hermione thought for a moment. Then she shook her head.

“So, Harry, why don't you show us your Animagus shape? It's not like we haven't seen it before. Isn't that right, Guinevere?” Her face went from shrewd triumph to embarrassed bewilderment as the three on the “inside” started howling with laughter.

“No, Hermione, If I could turn into a falcon, it sure wouldn't be female. What made you think that?”

“Honestly, Harry, you're a flier, you're more than a little reckless, and , well, beautiful. The falcon also used that ..Passionfire, on Tonks.”

“Thank you. Just to mess with you, I could admit that your reasoning is valid, and that I am indeed an animagus. Just not Guinevere. I really shouldn't have conducted it to Tonks. That might have been what made her addicted. It's no big deal, as long as I can zap her once a week, but that's no hassle. No, Guinevere is an Animagus all right, but she's not me.”

“She's Elaine, then? Your wife, and Lord Kilchurn's daughter?”

“Oh my, you're informed,” Harry said with such an honest expression of admiration that Hermione immediately understood that she was wrong.

“Don't fret, Mia. I've muddied the waters on purpose, and I do have a pretty good idea how your mind works. So, do you have any guesses on how I spent my summer?”

“Mia?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“Why not? I think I've proven my ability to pronounce words with four syllables. Haven't you ever had a pet name before?”

“I've never been a pet before, but you can pet me anytime.” She purred to his immense surprise.

“Sorry to interrupt, but as you didn't really stay awake to make good on your word, Luna and I took over.” Ginny smirked. “You still have at least one time to go.”

That made Hermione blush and glance at Neville and Susan.

“Did you ... did you really see?”

“No, we didn't. Harry may be quite unembarrassed in front of us, but he wasn't sure about how real you were ready to go. We took up positions and drove people away with a rather special Fear-charm, and Harry directed us. All we saw was the illusion Harry made, and it was a really good one.” Neville assured her, nodding towards Harry. “We weren't even sure we were at the right compartment.”

“Thank Merlin for Harry's skill, then.”

“Freja, please.”

“What, Harry? Wait, didn't you say she made the necklaces, too?”

“I met her this summer, and yes, we're talking about the Norse Goddess. The real, live Goddess. She taught me to make those illusions and a lot of other things.” He suddenly remembered his shape and shrank down to Puny Harry again.

That was the moment when the door slammed up, and everybody's favourite weasel made his customary appearance. He had of course missed the appearance of Harry outside, and even dismissed the whisperings. No one had told him straight out that harry was back, either, as those who tried were hushed up by the two gorgeous girls at his sides. Tracey was looking better than ever, with high, pert breasts, very slim waist and a taut butt, and her luminous eyes were sparkling as she looked around the compartment. As she expected him there, she managed to break through Harry's Notice-Me-Not field, and she smiled at him. Draco, of course didn't, as he was too busy showing off to the new and improved Pansy.

Pansy had become a Amazon. Her waist wasn't quite as slim as Tracey's, but a lot more muscled. Her hips were narrow, and she had somehow gained a firm pair of C-cups, with highly prominent nipples, and she had lost the sneer. Her eyes had grown larger, her nose had straightened out a little, leaving her with a cute little up-nose that was just adorable, and her jaw had slimmed out. Her brown hair was wavy, and styled like the few photos of Elaine Prichard showed, in a loose ponytail. All in all, she was looking really good.

“So, you complete bunch of losers and soon-to-be corpses. Where's your saviour now? What happened to him when he tried to show his face in public?”

The door slammed shut behind him and the two girls, separating them from the two normal tag-along goons.

“He killed some, ripped the magic out of some and then, he took a vacation.”

It was very quiet in the compartment as Draco Malfoy slowly turned around to face a “dead” man.

“Hi Draco. You didn't follow the script there. You were supposed to use your normal word for Muggleborn, and then I was supposed to kill you. So, how's Lucy dealing with life as a squib then?”

“You ... you ...”
As Draco ran out of eloquence, he of course drew his wand. Striking an impressive pose, he pointed it straight at Harry's face where it rested for two whole seconds before Harry simply took it away and tossed it on the ground, putting his boot over it.

“Draco, Draco. You see, here's how this year will work. You will keep to yourself and do your homework and wank off and all the usual things. You will not address any of the people present without good cause. You will not annoy me in the slightest because when you do, you will be horribly wounded and maimed and scarred for life. That'll be the warning. Now, leave the girls here and run. They're pretty and might want to choose the winning side. You are ugly and will most likely die.”

He casually opened the door, and summoned the gritty wand to his hand. He stuffed it down the back of Malfoy's shirt before pushing him through the door, and into the wall on the other side before looking at Crabbe and Goyle.

“Goyle, I'm sorry about your dad, but this is war, and he chose the losing side. You've got time to turn around. However, if you move against me or mine, I will kill you too. You too, Crabbe. I don't want to kill anyone, but there seems to be loads of people who choose to be on the losing side, and they will die.”

“You can't kill, Potter. You're too goodie-goodie for that.” Malfoy spat out in a great display of stupidity.
Harry grabbed his collar with one hand, and his right index finger with the other, snapping it with ease. Before the blonde ponce could even begin to scream, Harry hissed at him.

“Idiot. It's not about right and wrong, light or dark. It's You against Me, Us versus Them, and you, you insignificant little staleblood with delusions of adequacy, are Them. Your very existence is a threat to me and mine, and I will kill you in a heartbeat if you give me the flimsiest of reasons, so see that you don't.”

He focused a second, and as he spoke next, his voice was heard in every compartment, behind every silencing charm, and caused a seventh-year Slytherin to lose his erection, to the great disappointment of the sixth-year 'Puff he was with.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, fellow students. Kilchurn has declared the use of the word Mudblood to be prohibited. The first offence will result in broken bones, the third is considered Capital. This applies to all years, as well as the staff. Thank you for your attention.” With that, he nodded at Crabbe and Goyle, and returned to the compartment.

The compartment was quiet. Ginny, Luna, Hermione, Tracey and Pansy was just staring at him with half-open mouths as Susan and Neville were shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Damn, Harry. You just don't know how to keep a low profile, do you?” Neville snorted.

“Nope. The only time I held it was when I had it, or possibly wanted it. The attack in Diagon Alley proved to me that this is war, and I will win.”
He flopped down on an empty seat.

“And just how long have you rehearsed the little speech you gave Malfoy?” Susan asked with an arched eyebrow. Harry grinned at her.

“Every time I shaved for the past month. I had several versions ready, depending on his stupidity. This was the simplest.”

He looked at the two Slytherins.

“Hello there, Ladies, I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is Harald, Harry to my friends, Triwizard survivor, battler of dark lords, writer of lines and I once did Vätternrundan in seven hours. I got a medal for that. I know your names, of course, but as you stayed behind when the winner of the all-wizards stupidity award went away, I assume you want in on the winning side so I want to know you a little better. Pansy, you're certainly not one I'd call my friend in a hurry. Could you tell us why you're here?”

“I want to live, and I want out of the bloody arranged marriage my father has sold me to. I know I've disgraced myself to you all, but mostly to Lord Longbottom.”

She turned to him and fell on her knees with her head bowed.

“As such, Lord Longbottom, please accept my servitude as atonement for my crimes against you. I wish to serve you, in any and all capacities it is possible for me to do, until your Lady thinks that I have redeemed myself.”

Neville was a bit lost for words, but he was a Pureblood, and as such he had an enormous reservoir of platitudes for all circumstances.

“I, Lord Longbottom, do thank you for this most extravagant offer. Sorely tempted am I to take it without thought, but prudence has taught me differently, and while I by no means intend any slight against your good intentions, I must ask you to clarify these intentions.”

Harry couldn't help himself. In a loud whisper, he asked Hermione.

“Don'tcha jist luv ta hear the aristrecrates talk all fancy like tha'?”

She suppressed a giggle, before answering.

“Duz me heart alotta good te hear'em pulishing those vocabilaryties all shiny.”

“Hush, you low-born oafs.” Neville laughed.

“My lord,” Pansy continued, with only the tiniest trace of mirth in her voice, “It is clear that I have been misinformed regarding who'll win the current conflict, and as such, I wish to live. My goals may not be the purest, but as I understand that I need to earn and gain the respect and protection from the House of Kilchurn in order to survive, I have chosen to, by your leave, bind myself to the Lord Longbottom. You are just and kind, and hopefully, I will learn those traits. I trust my servitude to Lady Susan, as you are known to be more forgiving than I deserve, and she is more likely to know your worth than you are, My Lord. Therefore, she will know when I have served enough.”

Neville seemed to consider this carefully, before turning to Harry.

“My Lord, her position is fair and just, and as my Lady has been reminding me frequently and occasionally loudly, it is my duty to keep a mistress of concubine, which this fair lady seems to offer herself as. However, as the conduct and appearance of my associates reflects on the house that I represent, and not just myself, I humbly beg my Liege Lords opinion.”

Neville and Susan were the only ones in the compartments whose eyes seemed to remain inside their heads as Harry rose, cast a privacy charm on the door and morphed. In the place of the scrawny teen stood the broadshouldered Harald Fafnersson in his Kilchurn costume, and with wide bronze links around his arms. A cape of iridescent Lindorm leather flowed from his shoulders and he held the staff Fang in his hand. Sigyn had designed this look for, as she said, “Lordish” events. It worked. He was majestic, archaic, and no one who saw him could doubt his power, or his ability to win, ever again.

“My most faithful Liege, as I trust you to manage the Sentient's Sanctuary, and my finances and holdings, I trust you, and your Lady to choose wisely. However, as the gift was given to me by my father, I can, by your leave, read her heart for you, and see if therein resides the seeds of betrayal. Barring that most gruesome outcome, I find her pleasing to my eyes, and her speech is sweet to my ears and well versed she seems, in all manners of rites and protocols in which I find myself sorely lacking. Her line is that of proud warriors, and I do sense the steel of old in her stale, but still flowing, blood. Perhaps, her once proud family name can regain it's honour and vitality by her voluntary enslavement to you, my most treasured Liegeman.”

“My Lord, you speak as always with the wisdom you falsely claim to lack. Your father's gift, however, might be highly prudent to employ before I accept the fair flower's oath. Please, My Lord.”

“Pansy, please rise, and meet my gaze. If you would be found lacking, no ill shall become you, but if treachery lies within your heart and mind, you would be wise to leave now, before my test of your resolve begins, for the punishment for treachery is old and established.”

On shaking knees, Pansy stood. She had not expected this. She had thought that Potter might be Lancelot, but now she was convinced that the man before her was the Pendragon himself. His slit pupils reminded her of the words that the Lady of the Lake had said, about the true Serpent Lord. Straightening her back, she met his eyes. This was where her life had brought her, and she faced it as herself, without agendas or plots and plans. Just Pansy, a rather foolish girl about to do something right in her life. She saw those reptilian pupils widen, and suddenly, there was an alien presence in her mind. Something moved through her memories, taking stock of good and bad, and her plans and thoughts about the future was scrutinised carefully. After ten eternal seconds, the presence was gone, and Potter spoke again.

“There is no traitorous plots within her. There is , however, a genuine wish for atonement and servitude. Lord Longbottom, The house of Kilchurn has no objections to your taking her oath, and as such, extend it's protection to her and her unmarked family. There are Marked members of her family, though, and the week of mercy is long gone. The house of Kilchurn has spoken, and it's wishes made clear.”

With that, he returned to his puny shape and sat down, studiously meeting no ones eyes. It had been the right time, and the right circumstances to pull on his authority. It was just bloody inconvenient, unless he Obliviated everybody.
On the other hand, it certainly wouldn't hurt his long-term plans.
A week or so of being a little more “plain Harry” would have been nice, pipe dream or not, but maybe this could still be contained. He paused his brooding to hear Pansy's pledge. Nev was certainly shrewd enough to hear any obvious loopholes, and as neither he nor Stina had found any plots, he wasn't too worried, but there were always new things to learn.

“I, Pansy Hypathia Parkinson, swear my services, in body, in soul and in mind, to Neville, Lord Longbottom. As he sees fit shall I serve, withholding nothing, hiding nothing and denying nothing, until the lady Longbottom, his wife, releases me from this oath. I am his, as tool or toy, and this I swear, on my life and magic, and I am willing to be placed under an enslavement spell, if one can be agreed upon by me, acting then of free will, and my master, Lord Longbottom. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be.” echoed Neville.
Pansy smiled. It was an open, content smile. It made her now attractive face beautiful as she took her place at her Master's feet.

“Damn,” Harry said. “ I didn't really expect more than something like 'Please don't kill me, I'll be nice.' So, if you could all just forget my and Neville's little conversation there, I'd be most grateful. I don't like to boss people around, and I don't like to give orders, so I ask you instead.”

“You'll have to order me, though.” Tracey interrupted. “I will obey your orders, whatever they may be, but you have to give them. I'm here to announce my subservience to you, My Lord Potter, but I need to be ordered, though. If so ordered, My Lord, I am yours.”

With that, she turned and left. Well, she tried to, but the door wouldn't open.

“Tracey, just remember that you made me do this. I order you to keep your mouth shut about what you just saw. You may discuss it with anyone present, but not where others can hear it. Is that clear?”

“No, My Lord, but it'll do. I will need more detailed instructions tonight, after the welcoming feast. At the entrance to the Dungeons?”

“Yes. Just keep this quiet.”

It was perfect, he thought. She had been more defiant than he had expected, but he had given her an opening, and she had grabbed it. He wouldn't toy with her for too long. He had looked at her too, as he was already engaging Jormungandr, and he was happy about what he had found inside her. Her mind was filled with dreams and desires of him, and the only decidedly dark thing he found was a strong desire to hurt her father, for disgracing the family. He could sympathise with that. He had also done her the favour of clarifying her mission for her. She would now do everything in her power to make him enjoy giving commands. His future was looking good.

With the privacy charm removed, and what Harry considered the 'business' part of the journey over and done with, an endless row of people just happened to pass their compartment. Harry did his best to be polite and friendly to everybody, but the repetitive parts of the conversation began to grate, and he started to vary himself. When people said “I thought you were dead!”, he usually answered something like “I got better”, or sometimes just “Don't believe everything you read”, but after a while, he tried to be creative. “I did, but Hell is outsourcing this year. See you in potions” worked just fine, but his line to the Patils, “I did. Didn't you?” failed spectacularly. He spent several minutes calming down the apparently crying twins before he caught on to their little ruse, but it wasn't until they began feeling him up that he got it. He didn't let on until they were actually handling his member, but then he rewarded them with a hard swat on each lovely bottom. They unhanded him at once.
“Ouch,” they said almost in unison. “That will leave a mark”

A bit of inspiration hit him, and he asked in a low, fairly threatening voice.

“And who's mark would that be?”

The shading on the Indian girls' cheeks might have been a blush as one of them answered.

“Yours, I guess?”

“Right. Now, what would such a mark mean?”

“Ownership,” the other one stated with a certain satisfaction.

“Right, and don't you forget it. See you in school. Now scoot.”

“Yes, Master,” They curtsied and ran off, giggling, as Harry returned to his seat.


“Could someone explain that to me? What the hell just happened?”

“Honestly, Harry,” Susan said, glancing at Hermione with a smile, “During this summer, have you met even one woman who didn't want you from second one? Or acted really submissive, come to that? You were hard to resist before your ... before you learned to sing, but now it's almost impossible. Come on, harry. Name one.”

“Well, Sigyn ... no. Sti ... no. You! And Minnie. Your Aunt, too.”

“My Aunt wouldn't mind a piece of you, but she has a lifetime of control to hide behind. On your birthday, Minnie wouldn't take her eyes off you whenever you were in the same room, and me? Are you kidding? I love Neville, and I certainly want him more, but believe me, I will invoke the Goddesses price one day. You'd better believe I want you. You're just not first on the list.”

“All right then, but what does that mean?”

“Oh, hone...Harry, obviously something about you makes us act like this,” Hermione said with a similar smile at Susan. “It's said that women has a drive to mate, or submit to the most powerful male in the area, and you're telling our bodies just how powerful you are. My body is telling me how much it wants to have your bab....what?”

Harry had clamped his hands over his ears, and even created some kind of silencing sphere around his head .

“Riight.” Neville said. “Now, I'll need some oaths. This is, at the moment, a state secret, and Sue, you can expect one hell of a spanking later. Ladies, your oaths that my next topic is not discussed outside this compartment. Pain-oaths will do.”

Once the bewildered girls had given some fairly light oaths, Neville explained to them about the Goddesses price, and Hermione understood that she had almost compelled him to impregnate her at the spot, if she had just worded the sentence that way. At Neville's wave, Harry cancelled the deafness spell and Hermione immediately began to apologise.

“I can't believe she could ask such a price after the fact. I mean, the deal was made and all, and then the horrible bi ..”

“HERMIONE! You're badmouthing my Goddess. As her champion, I'd have to go all Jihad on your ass, and there are so many more pleasant things I like to do with it first. You got the impression that I don't want to make you pregnant, and that's just wrong. Just not now, and not here. Next year, on the other hand, in the library, maybe even in the Restricted section on top of a pile of old editions of 'Hogwarts:A History'. Sound good?”


Hermione couldn't answer, as her eyes had glazed over, and she was rubbing her thighs together in a way that would be obvious to a firstie. Harry smiled indulgently at her, before turning to Ginny, who had a speculative look in her already mischievous eyes.

“So, you mean that no contraceptive potions or techniques can be used if I call you on that price-thing. How about barren women?”

“She's the Goddess of fertility. I guess she'll fix things.”

Ginny's face fell momentarily, but she jumped up, and placed herself in Harry's lap, rubbing herself against him in a most anti-subtle way.

“Harry, I will make the necessary legal work, and as soon as legally possible, I want you to spend at least 48 hours making me pregnant. I don't mind having your baby, and I really want to see if I can fit all of you inside me.”

“You didn't need to call on the Price for that, Ginny. I owe you a very serious session, remember?”

“Does this mean a bloke can move in on Elaine?” said a voice from the door.
Harry turned to greet his remaining sane dorm-mates.

“Dean! Seamus! How are things?”

“Great, now that we can see you. So, you got a hot babe like Elaine, and here you are with Ginny on top of you. Can't you leave some babes for us poor mortal blokes?”

“You know Elaine intends to sit for you? Knowing her, there's just no way she'll keep her clothes on for it, either.”

Seamus just stared at him, and Dean started rubbing his palms against his jeans, before asking Harry.

“You okay with that, mate? I'm not sure I'd be, if I were you.”

“No worries there, mate. She's proud of herself. You might get to see, but I'm the one who gets to touch. I'm just fine. Since she'll ask me, I'll ask you. How's Jenny?”

“Oh, she's great. That little critter Lord Kilchurn gave her is an odd one, though. What's it supposed to be? I'm not complaining, mind. That medallion yanked her out of the way of a lorry the first week, and one of our neighbours gives her a wide berth these days, mumbling about shining dragons and I've never trusted the old bastard one bit.”

“The image is a Leharv, like Hank.”

“The Kilchurn Dragon?”

“Yes. He's not a real dragon, though. More like a winged serpent. Friendly chap, but he does have a temper, and he's just happy to let Jenny have his likeness as a Fylgja.”

“I thought that was something like a ghost, or something like that, anyway.”

“That's the name of the protection spell. I think it's illegal here, but Kilchurn doesn't really care about that as long as it's the best. She couldn't have a better bodyguard.”

“If it's so great, why is it illegal?”

“As it deals with Spirits, it's considered Necromancy. I've already done the rituals to donate part of my spirit as a Fylgja when I die, and so have thousands of others through the ages. One day, someone will make a Fylgja for someone that my Spirit Echo likes, and this part of me will watch over them. It's a sacrifice that has been part of the so-called 'white magic' for millennias. My own kids will definitely have them.”

“Cool, it really is intelligent. D'you know what the name means? The Lord told her to ask me, and I don't have a clue. Wingphale or something, wasn't it?”

“Vingfåle means winged steed. I thought you took Runes?”

“Yeah, and then I close my books and go to the next class. It's not like I really bother.”

They all laughed, mostly at Hermione's incensed expression and some time during the summer, she must have acquired the ability to laugh at herself, as she joined in after a minute. They horsed around for about an hour, and Neville had to explain Pansy several times to the people who passed through, and Dean and Hermione went off to the Prefect's meeting. Harry made a mental note to thank Professor Minnie for not appointing Neville. He needed his liegeman. Nev's explanations of Pansy were sometimes hilarious. Sometimes she was a transfigured Kneazle, sometimes he had bought her in Knockturn alley, or won her in a game of hardcore strip-poker. Pansy proved herself worthy by helping him reinforce the story. When she was introduced as a kneazle, she meowed and purred, or grumbled about the unfairness that his four eights had beaten her flush. She even transfigured some trash into a price tag, saying 12 sickles, 4 knuts, which she attached to her cleavage and flashed those who got that story. This way, the hours passed.

Dean looked out the window. “ Hey, wasn't that Gallow Rock? Ten minutes to Hogsmeade station. We'd better go find our trunks and change. Catch you folks later? ”

“Sure, Dean, Seamus. I've got a meeting after the feast, but I'll be in the Common as soon as I can, all right.”

The two young men left, and the usual flurry of stuff and robes happened in the compartment. The trip hadn't been nearly as stressful as he had feared.
This was where the hard part began.
On an impulse, he enlarged his trunk and brought out his Stormbringer. The weight of the hammer was very reassuring, hanging from his belt.
Carefully checking his Puny Harry shape, he stood, and as soon as the train had stopped, he made his way to the exit.

Emitting a fairly weak repelling charm, he managed to pass into the carriage without anyone but the Thestrals noticing him. Neville, Susan and Hermione joined him, as he made his mostly unexpected return to the castle. As he made it fairly clear that he didn't want to talk, the ride went by in silence.

As he crossed the Wards, a bad feeling caught him, and he made doubly sure that he had his hammer and his wand safe and within easy reach.

Keeping as low a profile as he could, he sneaked in to the great hall, but before he could even get near the Gryffindor table, a dazzling purple cloud surrounded him. With a shake, he shattered it, and a black flash replaced it, and it slid off him as well but a bright green net-like structure managed to form around him, and he was trapped.

The hall was absolutely silent.

He looked at the head table, where he saw the Headmaster standing with his wand raised, and a bright green glow surrounded it.

The headmaster didn't really look all that happy to see him.






Author's Notes. Ah, he's back where he belongs, right? I wanted him to settle in a bit, and get some buddy-support among the students before facing his doo...school. As you can see, I'm not shoving Hermione off, and the Kilchurn Clique, Harry, Susan and Neville will be a staple. Next chapter will be rather heavy on smut. I'm trying to find the lemony flow I had in the beginning, before the wedding, but it's bloody hard. Anyway, Tracey will get her first real chance in the next chapter, and so will Ol' Fumbledore. Please review. Those of you who doesn't write yourselves probably can't imagine how much easier it is to write when the reviews of the latest chapter keeps coming in. Once again: Please review. Tell me how to make my story better.

Oh, and Enjoy.

Vanir