Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and the Midnight Sun.
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
Of ravens with claws, a battle of Marks, the fate of Dawlish and i think there was some smut, too
?Blocked
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. JKR owns pretty much everything that matters in this world, and no canaries were harmed in the writing of this chapter. I wished I can said the samme about my betta, though.
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
“Okay, we're here. Let's get to work, go home and have a drink. MORSMORDRE!”
The Death Eater --- a seasoned veteran from five similar attacks on unprepared, undefended targets --- fired the hideous illusion into the cloudy sky, and was shocked beyond bladder control when a voice cried out behind a low garden wall less than twenty feet away.
“DILIGOMORSUS!”
A blinding white beam shot up from behind the cover, unfolding into a crescent moon with the silhouette of a buxom girl sitting inside it like in a chair, preening slightly. Over time, the moon seemed to turn fuller, until the image of a full, round breast was displayed and as it turned, it alternated between the preening silhouette and the fully displayed breast, and it completely outshone the sickly wisp of greenish smoke from the competition.
On the ground, a similar event had unfurled. Outside the Skeeter residence, a mighty force of Death Eaters, fifteen fighters, had met the guard from the Kilchurn forces. As soon as the Death Eaters arrived, the Einharjers on location put up wards to keep them there, a massive wave of Huldr Allure distracted the black-robed misfits, and the fight barely happened. Pettigrew did try to fire off a Killing curse, but was knocked out cold before he could even finish it, and the others fell to a storm of stunners and body-binds. As the ten present Huldr dragged the would-be attackers together, using their touch to keep them distracted, the door opened and the charming view of Rita Skeeter in a horribly frilly bathrobe appeared. She looked up at the competing marks in the sky and almost orgasmed in excitement. Pulling a notebook out of her bathrobe's pocket, she conjured a quill and rushed down to the troops to get her story. She had it pretty much down when the first Aurors appeared. Kingsley Shacklebolt ignored the reporter and focused on a note pinned to one of the captives.
“Hello. I am Peter Pettigrew, Order of Merlin and all, Death Eater, shocking example of poor personal hygiene, betrayer of the Potters, and framer of Sirius Black. As an illegal rat animagus, you might want to keep me stunned until you have me kissed for the murders of Cedric Diggory and others. Oh, and kick me.”
Shacklebolt read it out to his team, and laughed the whole time while they processed the Death Eaters' wands and, after a quick conference with the Einharjer commander, portkeyed them out.
Rita was now just silently taking notes as Kingsley, Johan from the Einharjers, Hans from the Lunarians, and Saga the Huldr met up.
“So, you are all Kilchurn forces, I take it? I need some kind of report, I guess.”
“Jawohl,” Hans began. “The enemy portkeyed in and fired the mark. We scared them good when I cast our --- the Lunarian Legion's --- mark, the Luna Lovebite. Gut, ja?”
“We move next, I think,” Saga continued. “A focus hit of Allure to make them think with wrong head, but some fall from that.” Her accent was very heavy, but the charming blonde made it sound endearing, and even apologetic. Johan followed the report.
“After shocking and disabling them, all wands moved to stun and bind. The rat almost completed a killing curse, but that was all the opposition managed. The Huldr kept them distracted and disabled until you arrived. Time estimation, first to last spell: three minutes.”
“Thank you. Please convey my force's gratitude to the Lord. And the Goddess, of course.”
Rita scribbled like crazy. The story of the year, right on her front lawn. She had to do something really nice for the Lord of Kilchurn Castle.
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“Lord Longbottom? A word, please?”
“Yes, Mr Nott?”
“I understand you have some influence on Lord Potter?”
“He listens to me sometimes, yes.”
“I believe I have partaken in a very stupid thing. Malfoy was instantly punished, and all he did was to hold Greengrass. Goyle and I escaped scot-free, and we did something worse, I think. Could you please advise me?”
Perhaps theatrically, Neville closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“This worse thing you did, did it harm or inconvenience Tracey Davis, perhaps? In Harry's presence?”
“I'm afraid so, no, I'm certain of it. I tried to apologise to her, but she refers any such decisions to her Master.”
“As she should. She will get a good report from me. You, I'm afraid, are toast. Harry doesn't get as fumingly angry as he used to. He kills, then goes on with his life. You have crooked a hair on one of his girls, and there is nowhere in Britain you can hide. Scandinavia is out, and frankly, the whole of northern Europe is hostile territory for you now. As one of his Fathers-in-law holds a high post in the French magical government, France, including the French interest sphere, is also not a good place. I suggest you immerse yourself in the American Muggle culture. Possibly Africa would do, but I would believe America would be an easier place in which to disappear.”
Theodore Nott hadn't noticed, but Neville was very much aware that there were a lot of attentive ears nearby.
“And if I stay here?”
“You might get lucky. You might even be allowed to live, but it would surprise me.”
“Thank you for your advice, Lord Longbottom.”
The boy bowed, turned, and left, his face ashen.
Neville said quietly to himself, for the audience of course.
“Be adventurous: piss on Voldemort, but don't touch Harry's girls unless you really wish to die.”
He made sure he had all his papers, and ran down towards the Arch. The Wizengamot would convene in half an hour, and he had to be there.
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She was worried. She had her faithful in battle, and she couldn't be there. She owed them so much, and now, all she could do was wait.
The strategy had worked.
The first evening, Chang and Edgecombe had started their usual routine to make sure the firsties knew that they were the queens of Ravenclaw. At one point, as they were prone to do, the bitches had pointed her out as a warning example --- especially, her apparently 'padded' bra. She had stood up from her comfy chair, walked over to the two superior-looking girls, and sent the Asian beauty flying with a short right hook. She had practised it often, and found it interesting that a punch that might have rocked one of her Faithful had sent the prefect flying arse over tea-kettle. She had swept the legs out from under Edgecombe and used a move from something called Aikididio or something to land her on top of Chang. She had then proceeded to give the firsties a more balanced view of Ravenclaw, like mentioning that studies were more important than keeping Chang and her Clique supplied with cool drinks and pedicures. Chang had then attacked her from behind with a fairly bad hex, but Luna had shielded herself and the firsties, who had been in the line of fire. She had then used a combat spell to enhance her own strength for a few minutes and pushed the older girls against the wall, keeping them in the working range of her enticement charms. Edgecombe had crumbled immediately, but it was the sight of Luna's breasts as she healed Marietta that made Chang fold for some reason.
That night, Marietta had come to Luna's bed, begging for an opportunity to please her as an apology. As Luna orgasmed from the seventh-year's tongue, something had happened to the older girl, and Marietta now spent all her available time at Luna's feet. Chang hadn't sought out Luna's bed yet, but she would. Luna was certain of it.
She paused in her mental meandering to allow the orgasm that the gently licking Marietta had given her to run it's course. That interesting crackling sensation was there again.
She was still worried. She looked through the distraction field as she felt someone enter. Cho was standing in the door, wearing a much too short nightie, and her nipples were clearly marked through the thin fabric. Perhaps a distraction of a different flavour would work.
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Harry allowed the hammer in his hand to fall to the floor. He must have held it for a while without noticing, but now he certainly didn't need anything to slow him down. He was spoiled, and he knew it. He had beautiful women around him all the time, begging for his seed. He had magically enhanced perfect sex goddesses around him constantly, but the sight of two identical girls slowly walking towards him with chiming body jewellery was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. There were no way he could identify them without the help of Jormungandr, and he didn't really want to. One of them walked around him as the other one stayed in front. The chiming intensified for a brief moment as the girls removed the chains and links of their golden armours and let them fell to the floor, making a beautiful c-minor chord. The girl behind him pressed her naked body against his back, and he could feel her nipples right through his leather vest. The girl in front of him started to unlace his vest and shirt.
“Harry, we are not here to be made pregnant. If we were, it would be wonderful, but we just want you. You marked us, and we are yours. We want to show you what we want to do to you whenever you want.”
She loosened his vest and the girl behind him pulled it off of him as the one in front started to tug at his shirt, but the chest-laced shirt seemed to confuse her, so Harry helped her a little by liquefying the cloth and letting it pool around his feet. She wasted no time in claiming his nipples with her mouth, teasing them with a long, pink tongue. The girl behind him seemed to draw figures on his back with her nipples, and whispered in his ear.
“We want you, we need you. We've always known that we were to breed with the most powerful Mages we could find here in England, and we are so incredibly happy that it's you. Ginny bragged a bit, by the way, so we know what to expect, and we want that too. Today, though, we're not trying to get pregnant; we're trying to please you.”
She began to nibble on his ear as the girl in front started on the lacing on his trousers.
“Do you want to fuck me, Harry? I want you to. I want to see how much of you I can take inside my little body. I want to know what you feel like when you're pressed against my womb. I want to know how your semen tastes. I want to have your hands behind my head, shoving your cock down my throat.”
She went down on her knees and freed Harry's throbbing cock. As she began to lick the crown, her sister behind Harry took over the commentary.
“Does it feel good, Harry? Is her tongue soft against your wonderful member? We want to show you things you never dreamed about; we want to please you and ourselves. You taste wonderful. Sis, take him all the way in, I want to taste him properly.”
As the kneeling girl smiled up at him and took his crown in her mouth, the girl behind him moaned. Her hands caressed his torso and teased his nipples, and her mouth licked and nibbled at his neck.
“Mmm. Yummy. The greatest thing about being a magical twin. A double mind in two bodies. I can stand here, with my breasts pressed against your back, and feel your cock in my mouth. I can have you inside me while I lick your balls. If you cum inside any of us, in any way, we will cum like you won't believe.”
She stepped around him without breaking skin contact. They were all naked now, and she was pressing her backside against him, lifting his right hand to her breast. He moved his left one to her lovely firm arse on his own and caressed the girl softly, as both of the twins moaned. As he placed his hand in the small of her back and slid it downwards, with his middle finger tracing the crack, pressing lightly against her anus, not stopping until he felt the moisture on his fingertip. The kneeling girl shuddered lightly and renewed her efforts, taking him deep with her pink little tongue whipping around his crown.
The one standing made a small yelp as he grabbed her waist carefully but firmly between his hands and lifted her straight up. She caught on quickly when he turned, and wrapped her legs around his neck, arching back with a flexibility he had only ever seen in Gabrielle. She loosened her grip around his neck, allowing him to see her properly, and it was a lovely sight. Her quim was smooth, and the little remaining tuft of pubic hair was shaped like a star. Below it was a perfectly symmetrical flower, glistening with moisture and crowned with a small pink clitoris, peeking out from under its dark hood. The contrast between her dark, south Indian skin and the deep pink of her folds was exquisite, and her powerful scent aroused him incredibly. He reached out with his tongue to touch the bottom of her folds, and was rewarded by a double gasp. He traced the labia in front of him with the tip of his tongue, and the girl on her knees started to jerk him off while she licked his crown all over. He worked the fragrant snatch in front of him for a couple of minutes, without ever touching the clitoris, before he put her down gently on the floor. As the girls traded places, the one getting up reached for a small capsule in the pile of discarded gold ornaments and threw the contents in a corner of the smithy. With a whooping sound, it unfolded to a large pile of pillows in different colours. The girl with his cock in her mouth started crawling backwards, pulling him along by suction, until they had reached the composite bed, where she stood next to her sister and pushed him down into the soft pile. He lay there in perfect comfort, looking at the double visions of beauty as they stood in front of him, basking in his admiration. They took a step apart, and the one to his right lifted her right leg slowly, and in a dance-like move, lifted her knee towards her breasts, then extended it upwards, keeping perfect balance. Harry's cock couldn't possibly have gotten any harder as her position opened her completely to his eyes. Keeping her torso perfectly level, she began to fall towards her sister, who caught the elevated leg on her shoulder and began to kneel down, grabbing Harry's cock in the process, aiming it slightly as she lowered her sister down onto it.
He saw both girls' eyes widen and he forced himself to lay still as the girl was slowly lowered on top of him. He saw, in perfect detail, how the soft, pink petals spread themselves for him, and how the opening slowly distended to accommodate his girth. As the girl lifted again, he could see how the inner labia clung to his member, as if unwilling to let it go, before she was lowered again, fraction by fraction until she reached her bottom. The sensation was unbelievable. The only physical contact between them was her hot, tight, wet folds squeezing his member. As she began gyrating her hips, the other girl crept up to him, kissing and licking his body until she lay beside him, looking up at her sisters swaying body as she pleased their man like no-one else before.
“This is incredible, Harry. Your cock is truly amazing, and it feels so good inside. I can feel you right here, inside my belly as you fuck her. She's stretched so wide that her knob is rubbing against your shaft and your crown is poised right at her uterus. Today is just for pleasure, though.”
She was working her hands between her legs for all she was worth, and he reached his arm around her, morphing it slightly to increase his range. He slid his hand down her crack like before --- if it hadn't been the other girl, of course, since he wasn't sure any more. He didn't stop this time, though, and with his thumb against her ass and his middle finger half buried in her welcoming slit, he performed the Veela charm.
Harry thought he would lose his member to the girl's orgasm. The small stimulation provided by the lubrication and cleansing had sent the girls rocketing over the edge, and the one perched --- well, impaled --- on his cock was contracting so violently that Harry feared she would injure herself. She fell forward over him, and the gasping girl, still contracting, began chasing his tongue with hers as her sister crawled down, licking his balls and the shaft that wasn't inside her sister. Harry took advantage of the girl's temporary lapse in strength, and without allowing her to slip off of him, turned and laid her down with her back against his chest. He began to thrust gently as he teased her nipples and whispered in her ear.
“Do you want me to cum inside you? Do you want me to fill your folds with my semen until it flows out of you, for your sister to taste?”
“No! I want ... it in me more .. I want to taste it .. more!” she panted as he thrust inside her, her sister licked their joining point. She turned her head and whispered to him.
“We feel each ... other, but it's more ... intense in person. You lubed ... up Padma's ass. It's ... time to fuck it. Just bend ... her down and I'll ... help you do her from behind.”
Staying inside her, Harry sat up, then stood up, with the dark beauty still impaled on his cock. Then he quickly lifted her off of him and caught the other girl --- Padma, he guessed --- flipped her over and lifted her cute little bottom. As he licked her folds and performed the Veela charm once more, Parvati was gagging on his cock, coating him in saliva and rubbing it between her breasts. As Padma, and Parvati to a lesser extent, appeared to draw closer, he dumped her on the pillows and adjusted her so that she had her firm little butt in the air. With her sisters guidance, he poised his crown against the tiny entrance and, with Parvati as guide, he pushed. Both girls lost it. Padma bucked back, trying to take more of him than he knew she could handle, while Parvati howled until Harry grabbed her and pulled her in front of him with her bum in the air. As he fucked one of the twins in her well-lubricated arse, he stuck his finger in the other one, fired off the same charm, and switched. Both girls panted and moaned as he fucked them, and, after a minute, they started kissing.
With liberal use of cleansing charms, he started to switch between pussies and asses as the girls moaned, panted, and occasionally cried, and he lost count of how many times they orgasmed. He had been surprisingly turned on by the thin white fluid that had begun to flow from the twins' nipples after a number of orgasms. They had lost all control, were touching each other in ways sisters normally wouldn't, and after almost an hour, they were sixty-nined while Harry moved around them, going from arse to pussy to mouth without pause until he was too close to stop himself again. He threw himself back among the pillows with his cock like a glistening flagpole, the girls untangled themselves, and one of them almost leaped on top of him, driving him deep into her pussy. They could see how close he was, and as the other girl laid her head on his stomach, licking his shaft and her sister's clit, they were ready for him. As he started to buck, the riding girl slid off, and the licking girl took him deep in her mouth as her sister moved.
He came.
He came in one hot mouth; on a swirling, pink tongue; over a beautiful face; on firm perky breasts; and then back into another hot, sucking and swallowing mouth until he was dry and only light twitches remained of the spurts. One of the girls rose and pulled him inside her hot folds as the exhausted trio basked in the afterglow of one incredible feast of lust, their feelings serene, almost sacred.
At least until one of the twins burped loudly and they all dissolved in exhausted laughter.
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Harry was about to leave his smithy, and the girls were just getting dressed before he could escort them back to their dorms. He had left the room, giving the twins a chance to talk for a second. He had learned that these little chats were very important, and that he should never, ever even think about eavesdropping. Suddenly, someone was behind him.
“Hiya, Harry.”
Harry hadn't been surprised in a long time, but his favourite vassal had actually made him jump. Neville was in the Costume, and looked almost dead on his feet, but happy.
“Hi Nev. What are you doing down here?”
“I just arched in from the Ministry. I was representing you in the Wizengamot.”
“Better you than me. If I had gone myself, we would have been at war as we speak.”
“Trust me, mate, I know that. I like this kind of thing, and I can't thank you enough for the chance.”
“So, what happened?”
“Thanks to Percy Weasley, Aunt Amelia is Minister. Thanks to Voldemort, the Kilchurn Forces are a legal peacekeeping force in Britain. All it took was to promise to assist the Aurors if they ask, and we would have done that anyway.”
“Okay. Where did Amelia go? I heard she was missing.”
“Delacour estate. Your Father-in-law had given her a bolt-hole, it seems. What are you doing here?”
Harry grinned.
“Foreign relations. There might be a firm alliance in the works with India. I just negotiated an assurance of maintained interest, you might say.”
The door opened, and the twins emerged. Both of them wore dreamy smiles and their school uniforms, but all their normal house identifiers were in bundles under their arms, as was the body jewellery. They smiled warmly at Neville, and one of them spoke.
“A most serious interest, you might say.”
“Hello, uh, which one are you?”
“Frankly, we're not sure right now. We think I'm Padma, though. I have a small callous from the quills, but that's the only real difference.”
“I ... see. I realise that if I try to understand this, I might sustain brain damage, so I won't. Good night.”
As the girls giggled, he sauntered onwards shaking his head.
“There goes my best mate. I'd be lost without him, but I'm not above teasing him a bit. Would you dear ladies mind if ...”
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Harry was already under the covers of his bed when he realised that he wasn't alone in there. He didn't let on that he had noticed, just made sure that there were no scrying spells active and that his visitor didn't mean him any harm. As he fell asleep, someone liberated his tired cock, who was of another opinion regarding its weariness, and started sucking. Harry just relaxed and began drifting off to sleep. He would learn who it was in the morning. Sometimes, it sucked to be him, but sucking did have its good points.
He woke up alone, though.
He went through the motions of every morning, with one difference.
~Jormungandr, are you awake and aware when I'm asleep?
~Yes. Do you wish to know what the female did last night?
~Yes please, and who she was, too.
Suddenly, an image danced in front of his eyes. It was a peculiar sight, as it wasn't visual but mental, but he recognised Lavender anyway. She had sucked him gently, careful not to wake him, and she had quietly relished his semen as it flowed out of him at his silent, sleeping climax. She had swallowed it all, licked him clean, and tucked him back inside his boxers with great care. Before she left, she had whispered in his sleeping ear.
“Sweet dreams, my prince. It's all I have to give, but I hope you sleep well.”
She had kissed him with tears in her eyes, and disappeared, silent as a ghost.
He would have to talk to her. Or rather, Parvati. He wrote a quick note to her, saying that he wanted to know everything about Lavender Brown, as he needed to do something really nice for her.
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The Battle Of The Marks
by Rita Skeeter
Last night, as the Wizengamot held its long overdue session to remove Cornelius Fudge, evil did not sleep. The Death Eaters decided to attack Yours Truly, as I have finally understood the Dark Lord's true value --- or rather, his lack thereof. A full scaled attack was launched under the cover of darkness, and the first indication of a problem was the appearance of the Dark Mark in the sky above my house. It was immediately followed, however, by a white, beautiful mark in the heavens. My editor has forbidden me to describe it, but the picture below says it all, I believe. It is called the Luna Lovebite, and is the symbol of one of Kilchurn's allied forces, the Lunarian Legion. Between a contingent of Legionaries, the elite force called the Einharjers, and a group of Huldr whose pacifying power was instrumental in the strike, the entire Death Eater company was subdued in seconds with absolutely no casualties on either side. When the Aurors arrived, the prisoners were subdued, harmless and in some cases even healed by the Huldr, who also kept them calm and peaceful.
Ladies and gentlemen, I owe them my life, and I have no doubt that we all will in good time. Commander Hans Schmidt of the Lunarian Legion, Sergeant Johan Silfverslägga of the Einharjers, and Lady Saga of the Huldr led their forces with elegance and efficiency, and I never even felt fear.
So, what's the big deal, you ask?
The invincible forces have won again; there's nothing new about that. The remarkable detail in all this was that the Kilchurn forces were already there: They were waiting for the Death Eaters in my own garden.
After my honest report of the interview with Elaine, they had surmised that the Dark Lord might take offence and decide to eliminate your ever-vigilant reporter of undeniable facts. They decided to stop him, and placed a guard at my place.
The Ministry read the same article, yet the Aurors arrived long after the Death Eaters would have been gone. The ministry's response to the article is mentioned in other places in this paper.
Fudge would have let me die. Kilchurn wouldn't.
Goodbye Cornelius, you old goat, and good riddance.
The war that didn't happen, page 2-5
Percy Weasley, Lion in bureaucrat clothing, pages 6-8
Sirius Black proven innocent, page 9
The forces of Kilchurn, our strongest wards, pages 10-17
Peter Pettigrew, the Order of Merlin, facing the Kiss, page 18
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“Mr Potter, a word, if you please?”
“Certainly, Headmaster.”
He rose from the breakfast table and followed the aged Wizard to the room where the champions had gone in the Triwizard Tournament. Well there, he decided to be courteous, and conjured two chairs similar to his own at Kilchurn. Dumbledore looked surprised for a second, but sat down with a sigh.
“Mr Potter, I know that I'm overstepping my bounds as Headmaster in this very second, but I am also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and I fear that I am sorely lacking in that position at this time. I would appreciate any insight into the Kilchurn views that you might like to share with me. I ask for no secrets, but only a general view.”
Harry thought for a moment. There was nothing too secret about that. Indeed, they had done away with most of the secrets.
“Peace. Equality between sentients. The survival of the magical world. That's the main thrust, anyway.”
“I see. If the current speculations are true, why did the Lord of Kilchurn take an interest in you? No offence, of course, but I must admit I feel a bit left out.”
“Headmaster, I will not comment on the relationship between me and the Lord of Kilchurn. As for you being left out, it's your own doing. I don't trust you. Your speech at my memorial at Headquarters told me quite a lot. If you study it in your pensieve, you will see that you got confused, and told me more or less straight out that you had planned for me and Voldemort to kill each other, and that you saw me as a weapon, a blade forged in adversity for the purpose of killing and being destroyed. It was a shock, and it contradicted everything I thought I knew about you, as well as your own words, but your actions through my life support it. All these years, you have done things backwards. When the time has been one for action, you have not moved. When inaction has been the preferred way, you have meddled and thereby created the situations that should have been avoided.”
“I ... will look at my memory of the incident. If that is the case, and I do believe you, I fully understand why I find myself on the sidelines. I would like to speak more of this at a later date. Now, to an even less pleasant subject. There has been a number of attacks on staff and students in school, and consensus indicates you as responsible, even if there is not one shred of evidence to support it. Again, I wish for nothing more than a hypothetical guess regarding the reasons for such attacks.”
“I only know of a few such attacks. Tracey Davis and Pansy Parkinson were attacked in the Slytherin Common room by Professor Snape. I believe a Serpent Lord Avatar defended them against the gross perversion of the Slytherin ideals that the current Head of House represents. Daphne Greengrass and, again, Tracey were sexually assaulted earlier today by Malfoy, Nott and Goyle, I believe. The reason for these attacks has probably been their open affiliation with me or the House of Kilchurn. Oh, and I did destroy Umbridge, but in doing so, I managed to send a message to the ministry that probably saved thousands of lives. A partially regrettable loss of a torturer, but it was not for nothing.”
“I understand. The needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few. A noble sentiment, as long as one carefully considers who the few might be. By the Rules of House and Quarrel of 1634, your treatment of Dolores was perfectly legal, but I must say I was a bit surprised at your list of assaults. It does not correspond with mine. They do involve the same incidents, though, but from a different perspective. I must also congratulate you on a most impressive Occlumency defence. I have not approached it myself, and Severus refuses to even discuss it, but as I guess you knew, Filius tried you and was most impressed. As I just caught myself preparing to read you, I was reminded. Now, Mr Potter, I believe you have double Transfiguration this morning, and I mustn't keep you. Please visit me if there's anything you wish to share.”
They parted, and as Harry ran along the halls to make it to class, he couldn't help wondering what the Hell was going on.
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This was the sixth batch he had ruined, and now he was out of Lethe's bramble. Damn that bloody snake-thing. A one-handed Potions master wasn't good for anything except teaching, and that was unbearable. Not only had he failed in making the trust-reversing potion, he had also failed in making the silly little Rapture draught in time, so all the addicted house-elves that had served him in dosing the people he wanted dosed had died of withdrawal. The bloody stump that sat where his hand should be refused all treatment. There was some kind of toxin left behind that resisted all his skill, and, of course, the meagre skills of the so-called Masters at St. Mungo's. All attempts to regrow the hand had been fruitless, and the bloody healers had stared at him like he was a fascinating kind of dung beetle, mumbling about interesting cases and healing sciences. He pushed the blonde curls out of his face and tried to save his latest failure, but there was nothing he could do. Perhaps it was time to cut his losses. He walked over to the storage room and started picking out the most valuable ingredients, packing them carefully in a trunk.
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Transfiguration had been fun, especially for someone who could do it on instinct alone. He had transfigured his ferret into kittens, monkeys, and even into Malfoy once, to general jollification. As it hadn't been a sitting class, but the students had moved about in the class room, he had taken up position behind Hermione as often as he could get away with it, and by lunch she was wet to her knees. He had made sure to help Lavender as well, and Parvati had beamed at him for it. He had even managed to get her alone for a second, just to tell her that he owed her a big favour for a great night's sleep. Her blush had been almost illuminating.
His little breakfast prank on Neville had been small but good. The twins had walked up to Neville when he was talking to Susan and, perfectly enough, Seamus. They had nuzzled and kissed both his cheeks, and done the same to Susan. The blank stare from Susan and the vibrant blush from Neville had been great fun, but to see Seamus' mouth open and close in a complete mental lock-down had been hilarious.
Parvati had slipped him a note in return half way through the class, and he hadn't been able to read it carefully yet, but he had noted that Lavender wanted to work with design, hairdressing, make-up, and the whole girlie works, but didn't really have the confidence regarding anything except her own beauty. That was pretty much all he needed to know, and for much of the time he looked focused in class, he was actually talking to his Bondmates. He also carried muttered conversations with Neville regarding an offer to the Ministry. As just about everybody knew, Azkaban wasn't safe, as it was built around using Dementors for everything. Otherton, on the other hand, would have a large number of Huldr and similar species to cater for. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep a prison/Huldr restaurant on the premises. Neville was sure he could get it through, but Harry was less certain.
Seamus, who had noticed how easily Harry talked to the girls in class, and how he could even slide in behind them and correct their stances and wand-movements, began teasing him about it, and almost got himself hexed by all the present girls.
“Oh, come on now, Harry. How do you do it? How can you get close to all the birds like that?”
“That is quite enough, Mr Finnegan. The secret is simple. Mr Potter has style, and he showers regularly. He also has the ability to transfigure a pebble into a beautiful rose, so I do suggest you work on your skills. A rose that smells like an old sock will bring no birds, Mr Finnegan.”
He stared in shock at the strict Professor. For the first time, he noticed the little changes that had happened since school started. She smiled more, sometimes wore some unobtrusive traces of make-up, and didn't wear her hair in the prim bun any more. He stared at her, then at Harry, and with growing horror, at the professor again. Professor McGonagall chose this moment to blow a kiss to Harry, who returned it extravagantly, and managed to keep his face straight for several seconds before cracking up. The class, including Seamus, had a good laugh at the successful prank by their Head of House.
As they left class and were heading down the stairs, Harry felt like someone kicked him hard in the back, and as he was thrown through the air and down the stairs, his brain registered the cracking sound of an automatic weapon.
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He was waking up again. He had failed, again. He hadn't pushed hard enough; he hadn't been good enough to make them kill him.
He was chained to the wall. There was a beautifully worked metal band around his waist holding the chain. There was a bed, soft, nice and with a self-cleaning charm on it. It smelled of lavender and lilac, but the soft bed was just out of reach unless they were there for him, draining him, killing him, one little piece of his soul at the time. He was well fed, at least. The room was not uncomfortably hot or cold, so he didn't really miss his clothes. It would just have bought him a few seconds rest, to have to undress for them. There was no point in trying to deny them. They were just too strong, and their magic spoke directly to his body, making it perform even when it was beyond his ability. They pumped his cock up with pieces of his soul, his élan vital. He couldn't help sobbing when he heard the key turn in the lock.
Again, someone had come for him, and this time, they were two, and they carried a sack between them. One of them went straight for him, her squirrel-like tail swinging as she removed her clothes and had her magic catch his undivided attention. He felt the chain extend itself as she led him to the bed, where she promptly mounted him, driving him to one half-orgasm after another, until she finally let him have a real one, filling her greedy mouth with semen. She didn't speak to him at all, she just nodded at the wall, and the chain dragged him back to his blanket by the wall. He looked around for what the sack might have contained. Next to him, bruised and scraped, was the thoroughly defeated Cornelius Fudge.
Today's special at the Otherton menu: Life force of Auror, or Life force of Politician. Somehow, Dawlish didn't think that this was very good news.
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The K-Pist, Carl Gustav M45.B might just be the simplest and sturdiest sub-machine gun in the world. A metal weight and a spring, set in a pipe. No complicated clockwork things, no complex mechanics involved at all. There are no electronics whatsoever, and it has impressive fire power for its compact size. The perfect weapon in a magical environment, as long as you mind the rate of fire, which empties a clip in 4 seconds. Ted Nott hadn't minded that. He had also been so startled by the flare that he hadn't kept the gun down, so 33 of the 36 bullets had ended up hitting stonework. Three had hit Harry Potter in the back.
Ted Nott didn't have much time to worry about that, as every hair on his body was yanked out and his eyes were covered in paint. As a large number of hexes, including at least six stunners, hit him, the thought that remained in his brain was stupid.
“At least Potter didn't kill me.”
Lavender was the first one to react to the attack. As she didn't know the Cruciatus, she hit the attacker with the most painful spell she did know, the depilation charm. She followed it with a spell of her own devising, the Instant Makeup-charm, but she pushed as much magic as she could into it, instead of the usual gentle touch. The result looked like a panda with a hangover; his eyes quite firmly walled up with waterproof eye-shadow. Parvati and Hermione were running down the stairs, and Neville was talking to his sleeve. After a minute, Harry was on is way to the Hospital wing, the Professor carelessly levitating Nott that way too, and Neville put his hand on Lavender's shoulder. The girl was still frozen in place, wand out.
“Lavender? You did good. Harry will be fine in a couple of days, and I've told all involved about what you did. You can expect a very serious reward. Do you want me to contact your brother?”
She lowered her wand and turned to him, but there didn't seem to be anyone behind her eyes. Neville began to lead her gently down the stairs, as Susan Bones came running up the stairs to get to them. Neville kept talking.
“Lav, I think you're in shock. You need to rest, I think, and to feel safe. There's a room waiting for you at Kilchurn if you want it.”
“He was nice to me. He didn't ask anything from me. When I gave him something, he thanked me. He was going to give me something in return. Now, he's gone.”
“He's tough, Miss Brown,” Susan said. “He can take just about anything, and the best healers in the world are coming here. Come on; let's get you to Kilchurn, and you can tell me what you want Harry to give you when he wakes up.”
Lavender Brown descended the stairs, giving a detailed description of Cunnilingus, something the poor girl apparently didn't know much about, as Susan and Neville led her towards a new life.
Outside, things were more dramatic. A dense fog had appeared over the lake, and out of it came soldiers, chainmail blazing in the sun. A deep thumping sound was heard as battle hammers marked the marching rhythm against the ground and iridescent Lindorm cloaks shimmered as four columns of Einharjers marched forth and separated for two shorter columns of Legionaries in shiny black leather. They were followed by ten Huldr, two wearing white gowns, the rest in white vests and mini-skirts. The Huldr in gowns barked orders, and the Einharjers immediately set up camp with military precision, a well-honed routine. In mere minutes, tents were raised in a city-like pattern and wards were erected. A guard of Einharjers and Legionaries escorted the Huldr towards the main gates of the castle. They were about half way there when the Legionaries still in camp got together and pointed their wands towards the sky.
“MIDNATTSSOL!”
It looked a little goofy under the bright midday sun, but it was a sun nonetheless, a reddish sun disc with a patch of green on top and a snake-like patten circling it, superimposed with the Potter crest, the motto in Norse runes.
The midnight sun had risen over Hogwarts.
Author's notes.
Firstly, a big and major Thank You to Pfeil, a brilliant and cunning linguist (couldn't resist that) who cleans up my erratic grammar and atrocious punctuation. Of course, I fiddle with the chapter after he's done, so there may be some later added errors still, but that's me, not him.
Again, I tip my hat to some other authors. Who recalls the use of a depilation charm as a weapon? Further, my hat is completely off to Novocaine, for my requested one-shot, Kartong, turning the Lavenders of the world into real people. This had the unexpected result of making me feel guilty, as I was planning on using her just like that. Now, I have to do something nice for her. The tucking-in scene was planned, but I tweaked it to fit, and later, Lavender got cast in a role I had intended for someone else. It worked better like this, though.
Looks like Nott's little preventative strike didn't work, doesn't it? This brings another question to the fore. Who's in charge of Kilchurn?
Please read, which you obviously did, enjoy, which I hope you did, and review, which I hope you will, as reviews are the currency in which the fanfic author is paid.
Vanir
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
“Okay, we're here. Let's get to work, go home and have a drink. MORSMORDRE!”
The Death Eater --- a seasoned veteran from five similar attacks on unprepared, undefended targets --- fired the hideous illusion into the cloudy sky, and was shocked beyond bladder control when a voice cried out behind a low garden wall less than twenty feet away.
“DILIGOMORSUS!”
A blinding white beam shot up from behind the cover, unfolding into a crescent moon with the silhouette of a buxom girl sitting inside it like in a chair, preening slightly. Over time, the moon seemed to turn fuller, until the image of a full, round breast was displayed and as it turned, it alternated between the preening silhouette and the fully displayed breast, and it completely outshone the sickly wisp of greenish smoke from the competition.
On the ground, a similar event had unfurled. Outside the Skeeter residence, a mighty force of Death Eaters, fifteen fighters, had met the guard from the Kilchurn forces. As soon as the Death Eaters arrived, the Einharjers on location put up wards to keep them there, a massive wave of Huldr Allure distracted the black-robed misfits, and the fight barely happened. Pettigrew did try to fire off a Killing curse, but was knocked out cold before he could even finish it, and the others fell to a storm of stunners and body-binds. As the ten present Huldr dragged the would-be attackers together, using their touch to keep them distracted, the door opened and the charming view of Rita Skeeter in a horribly frilly bathrobe appeared. She looked up at the competing marks in the sky and almost orgasmed in excitement. Pulling a notebook out of her bathrobe's pocket, she conjured a quill and rushed down to the troops to get her story. She had it pretty much down when the first Aurors appeared. Kingsley Shacklebolt ignored the reporter and focused on a note pinned to one of the captives.
“Hello. I am Peter Pettigrew, Order of Merlin and all, Death Eater, shocking example of poor personal hygiene, betrayer of the Potters, and framer of Sirius Black. As an illegal rat animagus, you might want to keep me stunned until you have me kissed for the murders of Cedric Diggory and others. Oh, and kick me.”
Shacklebolt read it out to his team, and laughed the whole time while they processed the Death Eaters' wands and, after a quick conference with the Einharjer commander, portkeyed them out.
Rita was now just silently taking notes as Kingsley, Johan from the Einharjers, Hans from the Lunarians, and Saga the Huldr met up.
“So, you are all Kilchurn forces, I take it? I need some kind of report, I guess.”
“Jawohl,” Hans began. “The enemy portkeyed in and fired the mark. We scared them good when I cast our --- the Lunarian Legion's --- mark, the Luna Lovebite. Gut, ja?”
“We move next, I think,” Saga continued. “A focus hit of Allure to make them think with wrong head, but some fall from that.” Her accent was very heavy, but the charming blonde made it sound endearing, and even apologetic. Johan followed the report.
“After shocking and disabling them, all wands moved to stun and bind. The rat almost completed a killing curse, but that was all the opposition managed. The Huldr kept them distracted and disabled until you arrived. Time estimation, first to last spell: three minutes.”
“Thank you. Please convey my force's gratitude to the Lord. And the Goddess, of course.”
Rita scribbled like crazy. The story of the year, right on her front lawn. She had to do something really nice for the Lord of Kilchurn Castle.
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“Lord Longbottom? A word, please?”
“Yes, Mr Nott?”
“I understand you have some influence on Lord Potter?”
“He listens to me sometimes, yes.”
“I believe I have partaken in a very stupid thing. Malfoy was instantly punished, and all he did was to hold Greengrass. Goyle and I escaped scot-free, and we did something worse, I think. Could you please advise me?”
Perhaps theatrically, Neville closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“This worse thing you did, did it harm or inconvenience Tracey Davis, perhaps? In Harry's presence?”
“I'm afraid so, no, I'm certain of it. I tried to apologise to her, but she refers any such decisions to her Master.”
“As she should. She will get a good report from me. You, I'm afraid, are toast. Harry doesn't get as fumingly angry as he used to. He kills, then goes on with his life. You have crooked a hair on one of his girls, and there is nowhere in Britain you can hide. Scandinavia is out, and frankly, the whole of northern Europe is hostile territory for you now. As one of his Fathers-in-law holds a high post in the French magical government, France, including the French interest sphere, is also not a good place. I suggest you immerse yourself in the American Muggle culture. Possibly Africa would do, but I would believe America would be an easier place in which to disappear.”
Theodore Nott hadn't noticed, but Neville was very much aware that there were a lot of attentive ears nearby.
“And if I stay here?”
“You might get lucky. You might even be allowed to live, but it would surprise me.”
“Thank you for your advice, Lord Longbottom.”
The boy bowed, turned, and left, his face ashen.
Neville said quietly to himself, for the audience of course.
“Be adventurous: piss on Voldemort, but don't touch Harry's girls unless you really wish to die.”
He made sure he had all his papers, and ran down towards the Arch. The Wizengamot would convene in half an hour, and he had to be there.
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She was worried. She had her faithful in battle, and she couldn't be there. She owed them so much, and now, all she could do was wait.
The strategy had worked.
The first evening, Chang and Edgecombe had started their usual routine to make sure the firsties knew that they were the queens of Ravenclaw. At one point, as they were prone to do, the bitches had pointed her out as a warning example --- especially, her apparently 'padded' bra. She had stood up from her comfy chair, walked over to the two superior-looking girls, and sent the Asian beauty flying with a short right hook. She had practised it often, and found it interesting that a punch that might have rocked one of her Faithful had sent the prefect flying arse over tea-kettle. She had swept the legs out from under Edgecombe and used a move from something called Aikididio or something to land her on top of Chang. She had then proceeded to give the firsties a more balanced view of Ravenclaw, like mentioning that studies were more important than keeping Chang and her Clique supplied with cool drinks and pedicures. Chang had then attacked her from behind with a fairly bad hex, but Luna had shielded herself and the firsties, who had been in the line of fire. She had then used a combat spell to enhance her own strength for a few minutes and pushed the older girls against the wall, keeping them in the working range of her enticement charms. Edgecombe had crumbled immediately, but it was the sight of Luna's breasts as she healed Marietta that made Chang fold for some reason.
That night, Marietta had come to Luna's bed, begging for an opportunity to please her as an apology. As Luna orgasmed from the seventh-year's tongue, something had happened to the older girl, and Marietta now spent all her available time at Luna's feet. Chang hadn't sought out Luna's bed yet, but she would. Luna was certain of it.
She paused in her mental meandering to allow the orgasm that the gently licking Marietta had given her to run it's course. That interesting crackling sensation was there again.
She was still worried. She looked through the distraction field as she felt someone enter. Cho was standing in the door, wearing a much too short nightie, and her nipples were clearly marked through the thin fabric. Perhaps a distraction of a different flavour would work.
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Harry allowed the hammer in his hand to fall to the floor. He must have held it for a while without noticing, but now he certainly didn't need anything to slow him down. He was spoiled, and he knew it. He had beautiful women around him all the time, begging for his seed. He had magically enhanced perfect sex goddesses around him constantly, but the sight of two identical girls slowly walking towards him with chiming body jewellery was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. There were no way he could identify them without the help of Jormungandr, and he didn't really want to. One of them walked around him as the other one stayed in front. The chiming intensified for a brief moment as the girls removed the chains and links of their golden armours and let them fell to the floor, making a beautiful c-minor chord. The girl behind him pressed her naked body against his back, and he could feel her nipples right through his leather vest. The girl in front of him started to unlace his vest and shirt.
“Harry, we are not here to be made pregnant. If we were, it would be wonderful, but we just want you. You marked us, and we are yours. We want to show you what we want to do to you whenever you want.”
She loosened his vest and the girl behind him pulled it off of him as the one in front started to tug at his shirt, but the chest-laced shirt seemed to confuse her, so Harry helped her a little by liquefying the cloth and letting it pool around his feet. She wasted no time in claiming his nipples with her mouth, teasing them with a long, pink tongue. The girl behind him seemed to draw figures on his back with her nipples, and whispered in his ear.
“We want you, we need you. We've always known that we were to breed with the most powerful Mages we could find here in England, and we are so incredibly happy that it's you. Ginny bragged a bit, by the way, so we know what to expect, and we want that too. Today, though, we're not trying to get pregnant; we're trying to please you.”
She began to nibble on his ear as the girl in front started on the lacing on his trousers.
“Do you want to fuck me, Harry? I want you to. I want to see how much of you I can take inside my little body. I want to know what you feel like when you're pressed against my womb. I want to know how your semen tastes. I want to have your hands behind my head, shoving your cock down my throat.”
She went down on her knees and freed Harry's throbbing cock. As she began to lick the crown, her sister behind Harry took over the commentary.
“Does it feel good, Harry? Is her tongue soft against your wonderful member? We want to show you things you never dreamed about; we want to please you and ourselves. You taste wonderful. Sis, take him all the way in, I want to taste him properly.”
As the kneeling girl smiled up at him and took his crown in her mouth, the girl behind him moaned. Her hands caressed his torso and teased his nipples, and her mouth licked and nibbled at his neck.
“Mmm. Yummy. The greatest thing about being a magical twin. A double mind in two bodies. I can stand here, with my breasts pressed against your back, and feel your cock in my mouth. I can have you inside me while I lick your balls. If you cum inside any of us, in any way, we will cum like you won't believe.”
She stepped around him without breaking skin contact. They were all naked now, and she was pressing her backside against him, lifting his right hand to her breast. He moved his left one to her lovely firm arse on his own and caressed the girl softly, as both of the twins moaned. As he placed his hand in the small of her back and slid it downwards, with his middle finger tracing the crack, pressing lightly against her anus, not stopping until he felt the moisture on his fingertip. The kneeling girl shuddered lightly and renewed her efforts, taking him deep with her pink little tongue whipping around his crown.
The one standing made a small yelp as he grabbed her waist carefully but firmly between his hands and lifted her straight up. She caught on quickly when he turned, and wrapped her legs around his neck, arching back with a flexibility he had only ever seen in Gabrielle. She loosened her grip around his neck, allowing him to see her properly, and it was a lovely sight. Her quim was smooth, and the little remaining tuft of pubic hair was shaped like a star. Below it was a perfectly symmetrical flower, glistening with moisture and crowned with a small pink clitoris, peeking out from under its dark hood. The contrast between her dark, south Indian skin and the deep pink of her folds was exquisite, and her powerful scent aroused him incredibly. He reached out with his tongue to touch the bottom of her folds, and was rewarded by a double gasp. He traced the labia in front of him with the tip of his tongue, and the girl on her knees started to jerk him off while she licked his crown all over. He worked the fragrant snatch in front of him for a couple of minutes, without ever touching the clitoris, before he put her down gently on the floor. As the girls traded places, the one getting up reached for a small capsule in the pile of discarded gold ornaments and threw the contents in a corner of the smithy. With a whooping sound, it unfolded to a large pile of pillows in different colours. The girl with his cock in her mouth started crawling backwards, pulling him along by suction, until they had reached the composite bed, where she stood next to her sister and pushed him down into the soft pile. He lay there in perfect comfort, looking at the double visions of beauty as they stood in front of him, basking in his admiration. They took a step apart, and the one to his right lifted her right leg slowly, and in a dance-like move, lifted her knee towards her breasts, then extended it upwards, keeping perfect balance. Harry's cock couldn't possibly have gotten any harder as her position opened her completely to his eyes. Keeping her torso perfectly level, she began to fall towards her sister, who caught the elevated leg on her shoulder and began to kneel down, grabbing Harry's cock in the process, aiming it slightly as she lowered her sister down onto it.
He saw both girls' eyes widen and he forced himself to lay still as the girl was slowly lowered on top of him. He saw, in perfect detail, how the soft, pink petals spread themselves for him, and how the opening slowly distended to accommodate his girth. As the girl lifted again, he could see how the inner labia clung to his member, as if unwilling to let it go, before she was lowered again, fraction by fraction until she reached her bottom. The sensation was unbelievable. The only physical contact between them was her hot, tight, wet folds squeezing his member. As she began gyrating her hips, the other girl crept up to him, kissing and licking his body until she lay beside him, looking up at her sisters swaying body as she pleased their man like no-one else before.
“This is incredible, Harry. Your cock is truly amazing, and it feels so good inside. I can feel you right here, inside my belly as you fuck her. She's stretched so wide that her knob is rubbing against your shaft and your crown is poised right at her uterus. Today is just for pleasure, though.”
She was working her hands between her legs for all she was worth, and he reached his arm around her, morphing it slightly to increase his range. He slid his hand down her crack like before --- if it hadn't been the other girl, of course, since he wasn't sure any more. He didn't stop this time, though, and with his thumb against her ass and his middle finger half buried in her welcoming slit, he performed the Veela charm.
Harry thought he would lose his member to the girl's orgasm. The small stimulation provided by the lubrication and cleansing had sent the girls rocketing over the edge, and the one perched --- well, impaled --- on his cock was contracting so violently that Harry feared she would injure herself. She fell forward over him, and the gasping girl, still contracting, began chasing his tongue with hers as her sister crawled down, licking his balls and the shaft that wasn't inside her sister. Harry took advantage of the girl's temporary lapse in strength, and without allowing her to slip off of him, turned and laid her down with her back against his chest. He began to thrust gently as he teased her nipples and whispered in her ear.
“Do you want me to cum inside you? Do you want me to fill your folds with my semen until it flows out of you, for your sister to taste?”
“No! I want ... it in me more .. I want to taste it .. more!” she panted as he thrust inside her, her sister licked their joining point. She turned her head and whispered to him.
“We feel each ... other, but it's more ... intense in person. You lubed ... up Padma's ass. It's ... time to fuck it. Just bend ... her down and I'll ... help you do her from behind.”
Staying inside her, Harry sat up, then stood up, with the dark beauty still impaled on his cock. Then he quickly lifted her off of him and caught the other girl --- Padma, he guessed --- flipped her over and lifted her cute little bottom. As he licked her folds and performed the Veela charm once more, Parvati was gagging on his cock, coating him in saliva and rubbing it between her breasts. As Padma, and Parvati to a lesser extent, appeared to draw closer, he dumped her on the pillows and adjusted her so that she had her firm little butt in the air. With her sisters guidance, he poised his crown against the tiny entrance and, with Parvati as guide, he pushed. Both girls lost it. Padma bucked back, trying to take more of him than he knew she could handle, while Parvati howled until Harry grabbed her and pulled her in front of him with her bum in the air. As he fucked one of the twins in her well-lubricated arse, he stuck his finger in the other one, fired off the same charm, and switched. Both girls panted and moaned as he fucked them, and, after a minute, they started kissing.
With liberal use of cleansing charms, he started to switch between pussies and asses as the girls moaned, panted, and occasionally cried, and he lost count of how many times they orgasmed. He had been surprisingly turned on by the thin white fluid that had begun to flow from the twins' nipples after a number of orgasms. They had lost all control, were touching each other in ways sisters normally wouldn't, and after almost an hour, they were sixty-nined while Harry moved around them, going from arse to pussy to mouth without pause until he was too close to stop himself again. He threw himself back among the pillows with his cock like a glistening flagpole, the girls untangled themselves, and one of them almost leaped on top of him, driving him deep into her pussy. They could see how close he was, and as the other girl laid her head on his stomach, licking his shaft and her sister's clit, they were ready for him. As he started to buck, the riding girl slid off, and the licking girl took him deep in her mouth as her sister moved.
He came.
He came in one hot mouth; on a swirling, pink tongue; over a beautiful face; on firm perky breasts; and then back into another hot, sucking and swallowing mouth until he was dry and only light twitches remained of the spurts. One of the girls rose and pulled him inside her hot folds as the exhausted trio basked in the afterglow of one incredible feast of lust, their feelings serene, almost sacred.
At least until one of the twins burped loudly and they all dissolved in exhausted laughter.
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Harry was about to leave his smithy, and the girls were just getting dressed before he could escort them back to their dorms. He had left the room, giving the twins a chance to talk for a second. He had learned that these little chats were very important, and that he should never, ever even think about eavesdropping. Suddenly, someone was behind him.
“Hiya, Harry.”
Harry hadn't been surprised in a long time, but his favourite vassal had actually made him jump. Neville was in the Costume, and looked almost dead on his feet, but happy.
“Hi Nev. What are you doing down here?”
“I just arched in from the Ministry. I was representing you in the Wizengamot.”
“Better you than me. If I had gone myself, we would have been at war as we speak.”
“Trust me, mate, I know that. I like this kind of thing, and I can't thank you enough for the chance.”
“So, what happened?”
“Thanks to Percy Weasley, Aunt Amelia is Minister. Thanks to Voldemort, the Kilchurn Forces are a legal peacekeeping force in Britain. All it took was to promise to assist the Aurors if they ask, and we would have done that anyway.”
“Okay. Where did Amelia go? I heard she was missing.”
“Delacour estate. Your Father-in-law had given her a bolt-hole, it seems. What are you doing here?”
Harry grinned.
“Foreign relations. There might be a firm alliance in the works with India. I just negotiated an assurance of maintained interest, you might say.”
The door opened, and the twins emerged. Both of them wore dreamy smiles and their school uniforms, but all their normal house identifiers were in bundles under their arms, as was the body jewellery. They smiled warmly at Neville, and one of them spoke.
“A most serious interest, you might say.”
“Hello, uh, which one are you?”
“Frankly, we're not sure right now. We think I'm Padma, though. I have a small callous from the quills, but that's the only real difference.”
“I ... see. I realise that if I try to understand this, I might sustain brain damage, so I won't. Good night.”
As the girls giggled, he sauntered onwards shaking his head.
“There goes my best mate. I'd be lost without him, but I'm not above teasing him a bit. Would you dear ladies mind if ...”
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Harry was already under the covers of his bed when he realised that he wasn't alone in there. He didn't let on that he had noticed, just made sure that there were no scrying spells active and that his visitor didn't mean him any harm. As he fell asleep, someone liberated his tired cock, who was of another opinion regarding its weariness, and started sucking. Harry just relaxed and began drifting off to sleep. He would learn who it was in the morning. Sometimes, it sucked to be him, but sucking did have its good points.
He woke up alone, though.
He went through the motions of every morning, with one difference.
~Jormungandr, are you awake and aware when I'm asleep?
~Yes. Do you wish to know what the female did last night?
~Yes please, and who she was, too.
Suddenly, an image danced in front of his eyes. It was a peculiar sight, as it wasn't visual but mental, but he recognised Lavender anyway. She had sucked him gently, careful not to wake him, and she had quietly relished his semen as it flowed out of him at his silent, sleeping climax. She had swallowed it all, licked him clean, and tucked him back inside his boxers with great care. Before she left, she had whispered in his sleeping ear.
“Sweet dreams, my prince. It's all I have to give, but I hope you sleep well.”
She had kissed him with tears in her eyes, and disappeared, silent as a ghost.
He would have to talk to her. Or rather, Parvati. He wrote a quick note to her, saying that he wanted to know everything about Lavender Brown, as he needed to do something really nice for her.
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The Battle Of The Marks
by Rita Skeeter
Last night, as the Wizengamot held its long overdue session to remove Cornelius Fudge, evil did not sleep. The Death Eaters decided to attack Yours Truly, as I have finally understood the Dark Lord's true value --- or rather, his lack thereof. A full scaled attack was launched under the cover of darkness, and the first indication of a problem was the appearance of the Dark Mark in the sky above my house. It was immediately followed, however, by a white, beautiful mark in the heavens. My editor has forbidden me to describe it, but the picture below says it all, I believe. It is called the Luna Lovebite, and is the symbol of one of Kilchurn's allied forces, the Lunarian Legion. Between a contingent of Legionaries, the elite force called the Einharjers, and a group of Huldr whose pacifying power was instrumental in the strike, the entire Death Eater company was subdued in seconds with absolutely no casualties on either side. When the Aurors arrived, the prisoners were subdued, harmless and in some cases even healed by the Huldr, who also kept them calm and peaceful.
Ladies and gentlemen, I owe them my life, and I have no doubt that we all will in good time. Commander Hans Schmidt of the Lunarian Legion, Sergeant Johan Silfverslägga of the Einharjers, and Lady Saga of the Huldr led their forces with elegance and efficiency, and I never even felt fear.
So, what's the big deal, you ask?
The invincible forces have won again; there's nothing new about that. The remarkable detail in all this was that the Kilchurn forces were already there: They were waiting for the Death Eaters in my own garden.
After my honest report of the interview with Elaine, they had surmised that the Dark Lord might take offence and decide to eliminate your ever-vigilant reporter of undeniable facts. They decided to stop him, and placed a guard at my place.
The Ministry read the same article, yet the Aurors arrived long after the Death Eaters would have been gone. The ministry's response to the article is mentioned in other places in this paper.
Fudge would have let me die. Kilchurn wouldn't.
Goodbye Cornelius, you old goat, and good riddance.
The war that didn't happen, page 2-5
Percy Weasley, Lion in bureaucrat clothing, pages 6-8
Sirius Black proven innocent, page 9
The forces of Kilchurn, our strongest wards, pages 10-17
Peter Pettigrew, the Order of Merlin, facing the Kiss, page 18
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“Mr Potter, a word, if you please?”
“Certainly, Headmaster.”
He rose from the breakfast table and followed the aged Wizard to the room where the champions had gone in the Triwizard Tournament. Well there, he decided to be courteous, and conjured two chairs similar to his own at Kilchurn. Dumbledore looked surprised for a second, but sat down with a sigh.
“Mr Potter, I know that I'm overstepping my bounds as Headmaster in this very second, but I am also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and I fear that I am sorely lacking in that position at this time. I would appreciate any insight into the Kilchurn views that you might like to share with me. I ask for no secrets, but only a general view.”
Harry thought for a moment. There was nothing too secret about that. Indeed, they had done away with most of the secrets.
“Peace. Equality between sentients. The survival of the magical world. That's the main thrust, anyway.”
“I see. If the current speculations are true, why did the Lord of Kilchurn take an interest in you? No offence, of course, but I must admit I feel a bit left out.”
“Headmaster, I will not comment on the relationship between me and the Lord of Kilchurn. As for you being left out, it's your own doing. I don't trust you. Your speech at my memorial at Headquarters told me quite a lot. If you study it in your pensieve, you will see that you got confused, and told me more or less straight out that you had planned for me and Voldemort to kill each other, and that you saw me as a weapon, a blade forged in adversity for the purpose of killing and being destroyed. It was a shock, and it contradicted everything I thought I knew about you, as well as your own words, but your actions through my life support it. All these years, you have done things backwards. When the time has been one for action, you have not moved. When inaction has been the preferred way, you have meddled and thereby created the situations that should have been avoided.”
“I ... will look at my memory of the incident. If that is the case, and I do believe you, I fully understand why I find myself on the sidelines. I would like to speak more of this at a later date. Now, to an even less pleasant subject. There has been a number of attacks on staff and students in school, and consensus indicates you as responsible, even if there is not one shred of evidence to support it. Again, I wish for nothing more than a hypothetical guess regarding the reasons for such attacks.”
“I only know of a few such attacks. Tracey Davis and Pansy Parkinson were attacked in the Slytherin Common room by Professor Snape. I believe a Serpent Lord Avatar defended them against the gross perversion of the Slytherin ideals that the current Head of House represents. Daphne Greengrass and, again, Tracey were sexually assaulted earlier today by Malfoy, Nott and Goyle, I believe. The reason for these attacks has probably been their open affiliation with me or the House of Kilchurn. Oh, and I did destroy Umbridge, but in doing so, I managed to send a message to the ministry that probably saved thousands of lives. A partially regrettable loss of a torturer, but it was not for nothing.”
“I understand. The needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few. A noble sentiment, as long as one carefully considers who the few might be. By the Rules of House and Quarrel of 1634, your treatment of Dolores was perfectly legal, but I must say I was a bit surprised at your list of assaults. It does not correspond with mine. They do involve the same incidents, though, but from a different perspective. I must also congratulate you on a most impressive Occlumency defence. I have not approached it myself, and Severus refuses to even discuss it, but as I guess you knew, Filius tried you and was most impressed. As I just caught myself preparing to read you, I was reminded. Now, Mr Potter, I believe you have double Transfiguration this morning, and I mustn't keep you. Please visit me if there's anything you wish to share.”
They parted, and as Harry ran along the halls to make it to class, he couldn't help wondering what the Hell was going on.
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This was the sixth batch he had ruined, and now he was out of Lethe's bramble. Damn that bloody snake-thing. A one-handed Potions master wasn't good for anything except teaching, and that was unbearable. Not only had he failed in making the trust-reversing potion, he had also failed in making the silly little Rapture draught in time, so all the addicted house-elves that had served him in dosing the people he wanted dosed had died of withdrawal. The bloody stump that sat where his hand should be refused all treatment. There was some kind of toxin left behind that resisted all his skill, and, of course, the meagre skills of the so-called Masters at St. Mungo's. All attempts to regrow the hand had been fruitless, and the bloody healers had stared at him like he was a fascinating kind of dung beetle, mumbling about interesting cases and healing sciences. He pushed the blonde curls out of his face and tried to save his latest failure, but there was nothing he could do. Perhaps it was time to cut his losses. He walked over to the storage room and started picking out the most valuable ingredients, packing them carefully in a trunk.
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Transfiguration had been fun, especially for someone who could do it on instinct alone. He had transfigured his ferret into kittens, monkeys, and even into Malfoy once, to general jollification. As it hadn't been a sitting class, but the students had moved about in the class room, he had taken up position behind Hermione as often as he could get away with it, and by lunch she was wet to her knees. He had made sure to help Lavender as well, and Parvati had beamed at him for it. He had even managed to get her alone for a second, just to tell her that he owed her a big favour for a great night's sleep. Her blush had been almost illuminating.
His little breakfast prank on Neville had been small but good. The twins had walked up to Neville when he was talking to Susan and, perfectly enough, Seamus. They had nuzzled and kissed both his cheeks, and done the same to Susan. The blank stare from Susan and the vibrant blush from Neville had been great fun, but to see Seamus' mouth open and close in a complete mental lock-down had been hilarious.
Parvati had slipped him a note in return half way through the class, and he hadn't been able to read it carefully yet, but he had noted that Lavender wanted to work with design, hairdressing, make-up, and the whole girlie works, but didn't really have the confidence regarding anything except her own beauty. That was pretty much all he needed to know, and for much of the time he looked focused in class, he was actually talking to his Bondmates. He also carried muttered conversations with Neville regarding an offer to the Ministry. As just about everybody knew, Azkaban wasn't safe, as it was built around using Dementors for everything. Otherton, on the other hand, would have a large number of Huldr and similar species to cater for. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep a prison/Huldr restaurant on the premises. Neville was sure he could get it through, but Harry was less certain.
Seamus, who had noticed how easily Harry talked to the girls in class, and how he could even slide in behind them and correct their stances and wand-movements, began teasing him about it, and almost got himself hexed by all the present girls.
“Oh, come on now, Harry. How do you do it? How can you get close to all the birds like that?”
“That is quite enough, Mr Finnegan. The secret is simple. Mr Potter has style, and he showers regularly. He also has the ability to transfigure a pebble into a beautiful rose, so I do suggest you work on your skills. A rose that smells like an old sock will bring no birds, Mr Finnegan.”
He stared in shock at the strict Professor. For the first time, he noticed the little changes that had happened since school started. She smiled more, sometimes wore some unobtrusive traces of make-up, and didn't wear her hair in the prim bun any more. He stared at her, then at Harry, and with growing horror, at the professor again. Professor McGonagall chose this moment to blow a kiss to Harry, who returned it extravagantly, and managed to keep his face straight for several seconds before cracking up. The class, including Seamus, had a good laugh at the successful prank by their Head of House.
As they left class and were heading down the stairs, Harry felt like someone kicked him hard in the back, and as he was thrown through the air and down the stairs, his brain registered the cracking sound of an automatic weapon.
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He was waking up again. He had failed, again. He hadn't pushed hard enough; he hadn't been good enough to make them kill him.
He was chained to the wall. There was a beautifully worked metal band around his waist holding the chain. There was a bed, soft, nice and with a self-cleaning charm on it. It smelled of lavender and lilac, but the soft bed was just out of reach unless they were there for him, draining him, killing him, one little piece of his soul at the time. He was well fed, at least. The room was not uncomfortably hot or cold, so he didn't really miss his clothes. It would just have bought him a few seconds rest, to have to undress for them. There was no point in trying to deny them. They were just too strong, and their magic spoke directly to his body, making it perform even when it was beyond his ability. They pumped his cock up with pieces of his soul, his élan vital. He couldn't help sobbing when he heard the key turn in the lock.
Again, someone had come for him, and this time, they were two, and they carried a sack between them. One of them went straight for him, her squirrel-like tail swinging as she removed her clothes and had her magic catch his undivided attention. He felt the chain extend itself as she led him to the bed, where she promptly mounted him, driving him to one half-orgasm after another, until she finally let him have a real one, filling her greedy mouth with semen. She didn't speak to him at all, she just nodded at the wall, and the chain dragged him back to his blanket by the wall. He looked around for what the sack might have contained. Next to him, bruised and scraped, was the thoroughly defeated Cornelius Fudge.
Today's special at the Otherton menu: Life force of Auror, or Life force of Politician. Somehow, Dawlish didn't think that this was very good news.
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The K-Pist, Carl Gustav M45.B might just be the simplest and sturdiest sub-machine gun in the world. A metal weight and a spring, set in a pipe. No complicated clockwork things, no complex mechanics involved at all. There are no electronics whatsoever, and it has impressive fire power for its compact size. The perfect weapon in a magical environment, as long as you mind the rate of fire, which empties a clip in 4 seconds. Ted Nott hadn't minded that. He had also been so startled by the flare that he hadn't kept the gun down, so 33 of the 36 bullets had ended up hitting stonework. Three had hit Harry Potter in the back.
Ted Nott didn't have much time to worry about that, as every hair on his body was yanked out and his eyes were covered in paint. As a large number of hexes, including at least six stunners, hit him, the thought that remained in his brain was stupid.
“At least Potter didn't kill me.”
Lavender was the first one to react to the attack. As she didn't know the Cruciatus, she hit the attacker with the most painful spell she did know, the depilation charm. She followed it with a spell of her own devising, the Instant Makeup-charm, but she pushed as much magic as she could into it, instead of the usual gentle touch. The result looked like a panda with a hangover; his eyes quite firmly walled up with waterproof eye-shadow. Parvati and Hermione were running down the stairs, and Neville was talking to his sleeve. After a minute, Harry was on is way to the Hospital wing, the Professor carelessly levitating Nott that way too, and Neville put his hand on Lavender's shoulder. The girl was still frozen in place, wand out.
“Lavender? You did good. Harry will be fine in a couple of days, and I've told all involved about what you did. You can expect a very serious reward. Do you want me to contact your brother?”
She lowered her wand and turned to him, but there didn't seem to be anyone behind her eyes. Neville began to lead her gently down the stairs, as Susan Bones came running up the stairs to get to them. Neville kept talking.
“Lav, I think you're in shock. You need to rest, I think, and to feel safe. There's a room waiting for you at Kilchurn if you want it.”
“He was nice to me. He didn't ask anything from me. When I gave him something, he thanked me. He was going to give me something in return. Now, he's gone.”
“He's tough, Miss Brown,” Susan said. “He can take just about anything, and the best healers in the world are coming here. Come on; let's get you to Kilchurn, and you can tell me what you want Harry to give you when he wakes up.”
Lavender Brown descended the stairs, giving a detailed description of Cunnilingus, something the poor girl apparently didn't know much about, as Susan and Neville led her towards a new life.
Outside, things were more dramatic. A dense fog had appeared over the lake, and out of it came soldiers, chainmail blazing in the sun. A deep thumping sound was heard as battle hammers marked the marching rhythm against the ground and iridescent Lindorm cloaks shimmered as four columns of Einharjers marched forth and separated for two shorter columns of Legionaries in shiny black leather. They were followed by ten Huldr, two wearing white gowns, the rest in white vests and mini-skirts. The Huldr in gowns barked orders, and the Einharjers immediately set up camp with military precision, a well-honed routine. In mere minutes, tents were raised in a city-like pattern and wards were erected. A guard of Einharjers and Legionaries escorted the Huldr towards the main gates of the castle. They were about half way there when the Legionaries still in camp got together and pointed their wands towards the sky.
“MIDNATTSSOL!”
It looked a little goofy under the bright midday sun, but it was a sun nonetheless, a reddish sun disc with a patch of green on top and a snake-like patten circling it, superimposed with the Potter crest, the motto in Norse runes.
The midnight sun had risen over Hogwarts.
Author's notes.
Firstly, a big and major Thank You to Pfeil, a brilliant and cunning linguist (couldn't resist that) who cleans up my erratic grammar and atrocious punctuation. Of course, I fiddle with the chapter after he's done, so there may be some later added errors still, but that's me, not him.
Again, I tip my hat to some other authors. Who recalls the use of a depilation charm as a weapon? Further, my hat is completely off to Novocaine, for my requested one-shot, Kartong, turning the Lavenders of the world into real people. This had the unexpected result of making me feel guilty, as I was planning on using her just like that. Now, I have to do something nice for her. The tucking-in scene was planned, but I tweaked it to fit, and later, Lavender got cast in a role I had intended for someone else. It worked better like this, though.
Looks like Nott's little preventative strike didn't work, doesn't it? This brings another question to the fore. Who's in charge of Kilchurn?
Please read, which you obviously did, enjoy, which I hope you did, and review, which I hope you will, as reviews are the currency in which the fanfic author is paid.
Vanir
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